#I don’t even watch good omens but it’s one of my fandom in-laws

[ssejdoesthings]

Heartbreaking News: Fictional Couple is Mad At Each Other

[isabellehemlock]

ID. A digital collage of characters from left to right, top to bottom: Finnick Odair from The Hunger Games, Nicolò di Genova from The Old Guard, Olivia Benson from Law & Order: SVU, Phoebe Halliwell from Charmed, Eddie Munson from Stranger Things, Alice Cullen from The Twilight Saga, Aziraphale from Good Omens, Stede Bonnet from Our Flag Means Death, Ciri from The Witcher, and Will Byers from Stranger Things. The lettering imposed in the middle reads: "10 characters. 10 fandoms. 10 tags." END ID

Special thanks to @nade2308 for tagging me for this fantastic game! 🤩 I saw a mutual do this one not to long ago and was sort of itching to do it as well - was even planning on typing something up over the weekend lol - so did I go a little extra by also including my why for each, and some quotes? Yup.

tw for mild/vague references of abuse related to their respective roles/backstories/character arcs

ETA I forgot to tag 10 people OOF lol

@mostlyimmortal @lucasmileynelli @heda-of-endlesswonder @almostcanon @alllthequeenshorses @scarlet-welly-boots @spacewitchqueen @brightestmuhii @bewires @good-nightsocialite

Finnick Odair - The Hunger Games

Finnick gives me fellow ESFP/Scorpio vibes, and though he puts up a fairly convincing front of someone who does not care (I mean, fair when you got him saying things like, “Every time that cannon goes off it’s like music to my ears”), he actually he cares very, very much (but I don’t want to spoil his character arc for anyone not familiar).  In my opinion, he uses his persona, and humor to project outwards (same Finnick, same), and sharing a few things with his character, made it fairly easy for me to latch onto him once I dived into the series :]

“I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money in years.” - “Well, then, how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?” - “With secrets.  What about you Girl on Fire?  Any secrets worth my time?”

Nicolò di Genova - The Old Guard

Fairly certain it’s obvious with my whole tumblr motif and name lol - and though of course all takes are valid - but I’ve definitely enjoyed exploring a HC of Nicky remaining Catholic and writing a lot about it.  I’ve definitely projected - but actually Nicky is more like who I’d like to be, with that quiet, stoic persona - which I’m definitely not lol.  But I do identify with his kindness, “heart of the family” vibes, and doing what he can to keep their family together :]

“I believe we’re meant to find each other.  It’s like destiny.”

Olivia Benson - Law & Order: SVU

I’ve been watching the show since I was in my young 20s (after binging the first several seasons), and it’s been part of my comfort and healing for a long time now.  It’s definitely got hard subjects, but it inspires and encourages me to know there are people out there who will fight for justice, who care, and Olivia is such a force all on her own, but she truly shines with her found family.  Extra bonus points for having adopted her child - as someone who’s family has been blessed by adoption three times over, I love seeing that representation on screen.  

“You know what I’ve seen is that people who have gone through unfair, horrific experiences, is that they have this will.  And when they get support - a chance, they can not only survive, but they can thrive.”

Phoebe Halliwell - Charmed

I spent my teen years watching Charmed, and it was so phenomenal to get to see a trio of kick butt ladies who grew, evolved, and wore amazing outfits all while nurturing family.  Phoebe was the youngest, then the middle sibling, and I think she definitely had such a fantastic character arc.  I resonated with several plot lines for her, but especially when it came to Cole, as well as her hope for a family of her own.  She was so wonderfully warm, and expressive, and I really vibed with that as well.

“I know this may not sound very PC, but I want romance.  Long, slow kisses, late night talks, candle lights.  I love love.”

Eddie Munson - Stranger Things

My most recent character obsession but it’s holding strong!!  I ship him as a fellow ADHDer personally, and even my husband felt like his character and I are very similarly expressive lol.  I also vibe with his ability to feel like an outcast, but somehow finding a way to gather people together, and in many ways just doing his thing - even if others might laugh at him - who cares, he’ll just stick out his tongue and throw faux devil horns at you.  It’s not like he’s dumb and doesn’t realize exactly what some people think of him, he simply has no problem ignoring it and having fun anyways.  It’s only an issue when people falsely accuse him of murder, which like, well duh lol.  But even then, just like Dustin says, “He was never mean.”  I believe the truth comes out eventually, and will so in Eddie’s case, too (and if season five doesn’t cover it, I’ll effin write it because that’s the peak of fanfiction lol).  But anyways, yeah, I relate to him on multiple levels :D

“It’s forced conforming.  That’s what’s killing the kids.  That’s the real monster.”

Alice Cullen - The Twilight Saga

Okay so once again, there’s something about the quirky, though fully aware, but simply having too much of a good time to get pulled into it - persona that drags me in and helps me feel seen lol.  Alice is the epitome of found family because not only does she find Jasper (Team Jasper btw), but also helps them to find their family and is like the biggest cheerleader for #Belward before even Edward is haha.  Add in sprinkles of vampire awesomeness, and a psychic ability to boot, and a penchant for hosting the best parties (not to brag, but I’m the one who insists on a theme and does the work to bring it to life in our family gatherings lol), and she's too awesome imo not to love :)

“Weddings: they bring everyone together.”

Aziraphale - Good Omens

This was hands down THE fictional character where I was like, “Okay this is 99% me on screen” lol.  I think anyone who knows me for more than like five interactions tends to give me this one as the character they envision me being the most like (well, that or Penelope Garcia lol).  I’m actually going to leave this one to your imagination as to exactly why, but can probably say most guesses would be accurate haha.  I love Aziraphale, and adore his vibe, and I’m very excited to see more of him (and of course Crowley, and everyone else) in season two!

“It all worked out for the best, though.  Just imagine how awful it might have been if we’d been at all competent.”

Stede Bonnet - Our Flag Means Death

It’s now a long running joke, but worth repeating here - I never meant for me to relate the most to two middle aged white men with cool accents who are literal bottles of sunshines, but here we are.  Stede sold me on him the moment he muttered, “We talk it through - as a crew” and though boy, he definitely had some growing to do, I do think his heart is in the right place in wanting to band a crew together. And hello, he has storytime for them all.  Like, he cares, a lot. And I can't wait to see him win back Ed in season two ;)

“Polite menace.  That’ll be my brand.”

Princess Cirilla - The Witcher

Ciri speaks to my inner child/princess.  Considered not to be all that much past what her birth status suggests, she actually is able to do a lot more than given credit for, and though unassuming - she kicks butt as she gets dragged/hunted all over mutliple kingsdoms.  Which I relate to lol.  Add in sprinkles of found family, and stepping into your own, and harnessing your inner strength to balance the scales around you and yes, yes, yes - I’m stoked to see what happens in season three for her!

“I want to be indifferent to the past.  To the lies.  To the things I’ve done.”

Will Byers - Stranger Things

Oh Will, sweet, powerful, (and imo) underutilized in Season Four Will - he’s actually tied with Eddie in my my fave ST character, because of feeling different, and the trauma - but especially in Season Three, when he’s watching others date and just knows it’s not the same for him.  As someone who didn’t know the label asexual until my 20s, I just wanted to reach through the screen watching him trying to navigate those moments of seeing relationships from what feels like the sidelines, both wanting to feel the same thing (so you don't feel different), but very much not in the way you’re witnessing (and not able to express the why for a myriad of valid reasons).  It’s hard to navigate that sexuality spectrum even under the best of circumstances but yeah, I definitely felt for Will, and hope many good things for him in Season Five! 

“She’s so different from other people and when you’re different sometimes you feel like a mistake.  But you make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all.”

[random2908]

Tagged by @theothin

Last song: I don’t listen to a ton of music most of the time because it feels bad with my migraines. But I went to a singing circle a week ago and one or two of the shorter, more repetitive songs from there have been stuck in my head on and off. Also we sang the Elk Herds song with all the harmonies, even though there were only four of us left in the circle by that point in the evening, so that was great.

Last show/currently watching: Last shows were Wednesday, Is it Cake?, and Russian Doll season 2, which I feel is a perfect snapshot of my preferred tv-watching habits--two spec-fic dark comedies and a dumb cooking competition. (Left to my own devices I’d say the ratio would probably be the opposite, but I was watching Russian Doll with people, and in fact I’ve watched little enough tv in the past several years since starting my last job that what I watch with other people on Saturday evening movie/tv nights is enough to skew my statistics.) Currently I’m finishing up the shows that I was partway through with friends, but now won’t be continuing with them because I’ve moved away: Spy x Family and The Patient. Next at the top of my watch list are “Glass Onion” (which is admittedly a movie not a show) and Stranger Things Season 4. After that I’ll have to go to my lists and think a bit about what I want to watch, but maybe Sandman (even though I wasn’t too into the books 20 years ago), or His Dark Materials (ditto), or Good Omens (ditto again, just replace 20 years with 15; you can see why I haven’t watched these shows yet even though everyone else has). Or maybe I’ll be asking for recommendations.

Currently reading: My tumblr dash. Uh. A smattering of fanfic. The last book I read was two months ago and it was The Last Graduate (Scholomance book 2). Next book in the queue, when I get to my destination and establish myself as a patron at my new local library is The Golden Enclaves (Scholomance book 3), which I am looking forward to. After that, my best friend and I have decided to do the first Mistborn book as a book-club book, because both of us want to try out Sanderson. She because she was obsessed with WoT as a kid, and ended up reading the entire series as it came out; Sanderson wrote the last three books after Robert Jordan died, so she’s very curious what she’ll think of his own works. Me because Sanderson is my sister-in-law’s favorite author and I feel like I should make some attempt at bonding with her? After that the next two books I intend to read are Memories of Empire, and Beloved (by Toni Morrison) as my book club book with my best friend, because it’s one of her favorites to re-read and we meant to do a book club on it last summer but ended up just being too busy. Anyway, some years I read 2 books a month and some years I read maybe 3 books the whole year, so I don’t know how long it’ll take to get through this list.

Current obsession: Insofar as I even do obsessions, idk, Wednesday I guess. The Locked Tomb, still. A friend who lives 15 minutes away from my new home is obsessed with Scholomance so maybe he’ll get me obsessed with it; notwithstanding that I was patient zero for tlt fandom among the people I know, generally I don’t get obsessed with anything without feedback from people around me who are also into it. (My dad, my best friend, and a handful of my other irl friends are all into Wednesday.)

Tagging whoever wants, which I know is a cheat but I don’t want to put pressure and I’m sure I’ll find anyone’s answers interesting.

[castthy-nightedcolour]

One-Shot: One Good Day (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the notes as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Aziraphale

Warnings and Tags: anxiety, depression, social Anxiety, implied S/H, swearing, aziraphale loves your soul, mysterious soft guardian angel breaks into your home, soft comfort

Summary: life hasn’t been going great for you. every single thing which could have gone wrong in the last week has gone wrong and you’re reaching breaking point. miraculously, something appears in your room to guide you to safety.

Word Count: 2459

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/76720253

You stumbled through your front door, the handle of your shopping bag snapping in half as your foot made it over the threshold. You watched blankly as the bottle of lemonade rolled down the hallway and the other groceries poured themselves all over the floor, rain water dripping from your hood down your face. As you slammed the door shut behind you, the smell of disinfectant rose up from the place where the groceries were sitting and you quickly realised that there’d been a leak.

Deep breath in.

The breath makes it halfway into your diaphragm before it stumbles into a sob.

Burning in your throat as you pull down your hood and hear the water shake off onto the floor.

One wrong thing in your life always managed to form into two wrong things, then before you knew it you were drowning in a cascade of completely wrong things. Everything in the past week had gradually been getting more difficult and you now felt that if you couldn’t even go to the corner shop without everything going horribly wrong, there wasn’t much point in leaving the house at all.

Work was hell; customers were rude, you were in constant pain from walking the shop floor and folding and re-folding items that people threw onto piles, and your manager seemed to hate you more with each passing day. Because you were always working, you felt incredibly isolated from any of your friends, and your unsociable free hours prevented you from messaging anyone in complete fear that you were taking up their time.

Everything just felt dull. A pressure behind the eyes, numb hands, dead legs, a complete inability to produce even one tear. You hadn’t felt this bad in a long time and you could feel yourself spiralling quickly towards catastrophe.

You stepped over the pile of groceries on the floor and edged towards your bedroom, completely ready to fall down backwards onto your bed and think yourself into a pain of solace. Water was still falling from your coat down onto your floor, leaving a trail behind you before slowly pooling together on the lino.

As you pushed your bedroom door open, you ran your right hand along your left arm, collecting freezing cold water on the tips of your fingers and in the palm of your hand. You took this hand to your face in an attempt to feel something on a face which felt like brick.

Not cold enough. Try harder.

A swift slap to your cheek had you letting out a small gasp.

Still not good enough.

You lunged towards the bed with the full intention of collapsing onto it and never getting up again. As you propelled yourself forwards, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, one with a gentle but commanding touch. Although you stopped dead in your tracks, you weren’t at all scared or concerned about this other presence in the room. There was absolutely no hint of threat at all. Slowly, you turned your head to look at the hand, glancing up the arm which was clad in a pale beige overcoat. A warm voice whispered from behind you,

‘Now, don’t tell me you were going to get into that lovely warm bed in this coat?’

There was no other way to describe the voice but hug-like, embracing the dull ache in you and injecting just a hint of warmth. You didn’t reply, but slowly turned fully to get a glance at whoever the man smelling vaguely of cinnamon was.

He is almost luminous.

One hand resting lightly on your shoulder with the other holding the rogue bottle of lemonade with support from his underarm.

You took one glance at the fluffy white blonde curls on his head and immediately branded him as something ethereal, the rosy pink cheeks and beaming smile were just more evidence for this. You shivered under his light grasp, partially because you were freezing and partially because you were very overwhelmed by the sight in front of you. If this was as you thought, a visit from an angel, then surely your life would never be the same.

Or maybe you’d died?

As if reading your mind, the glowing being jumped in to reassure you.

‘I know you may be wondering what’s happening here but fear not, I’m here with good intentions. In fact, they’re the only intentions I can possibly have.’

You zoned out slightly listening to his honey soaked voice, your eyes practically glazing over at the idea of whoever this radiant being was being present in your flat which had become a complete black hole over the past week. You struggled to form any kind of sentence to articulate this, but eventually came out with one word.

‘Y/N.’ You breathed, immediately feeling like an idiot for saying it. The angel didn’t hold the same opinion on this matter, though.

‘Well, that is a simply beautiful name. It’s an honour to be in your presence, Y/N.’ He spoke. You couldn’t quite fathom why he was being so nice to you and an ominous, inky black cloud inside you was attempting to convince you that this was all some joke.

Noticing fear creeping into your eyes, the angel tightened the grip on your shoulder in reassurance.

‘It’s okay, I promise. I’m Aziraphale , I’m here to look after you for as long as you need.’ The voice, like nectar, coated your very being in what felt like love.

The angel placed the lemonade on the floor and then very slowly pulled your coat off your shoulders, constantly looking at your face for any hint of discomfort. All you could do was stand there like a lemon, a look of disbelief plastered on your face as Aziraphale lifted the coat and threw it behind him, with it seemingly now miraculously dry. As you leaned to try and peek behind him, he looked concerningly at your shivering body and took a step towards you, running one of his hands down each of your arms.

You could suddenly feel heat radiating off him as you realised that all of your clothes were sopping wet, it wasn’t just your coat. The storm outside had hit just as you’d left to go the shop, which was just the icing on the cake of the perfectly played out horrible circumstances of the week.

As the hands were run down your arms, you noticed everything become dry and fluffy, like you were suddenly dressed in fleece, but they were definitely still your clothes.

Some kind of miracle?

The reassuring voice of Aziraphale returned to the room, echoing off every wall.

‘There, now I think that’s a lot better. Won’t you sit down, Y/N?’ He gestured towards your bed and immediately, you fell backwards onto it, following his instructions as though they were law. Sitting up, you peered up at him as he moved to sit down next to you, a comforting smile still on his face. The feeling of safety was so overwhelming for you, especially compared to the chaos swimming around your body only five minutes prior. Instinctually, you kicked off your shoes, curling your legs up to the bed and sitting cross legged, turning to face the angel. You weren’t sure how to make conversation with the ethereal, it wasn’t exactly a day to day occurrence, but you ran with the situation.

‘So… well… wow I guess. This is… well it’s…. oh my god sorry, oh GOD I shouldn’t be saying God should I, not around you. I couldn’t have done this more wrong, could I?’ As the words trickled out your mouth, the familiar sense of embarrassment began to worm its way back into your soul, overriding whatever comfort Aziraphale had placed there previously. You were slightly shocked to glance at his face and notice the smile still plastered on it.

‘Please, lovely Y/N, there’s no need to apologise. Say whatever you need to say, I’m here to listen. I’m all yours.’ He beamed.

Something still isn’t adding up. There isn’t a chance that someone would be this nice to you out of choice, this must be a joke.

With your thoughts beginning to spiral again, your breathing was working its way into something between a pant and one long, continuous breath. Aziraphale noticed this sudden change, and placed one hand on your back and began to very gently rub.

‘Shhhhh, it’s okay now. What’s going on here? What’s happened?’ His voice rang like a bell in your head. Your breathing came to a complete halt.

No one’s every asked you that before, have they?

The angel realised that your ribs were no longer rising and falling. All he had to do was say the words ‘please breathe’ before you took one big sigh. Glancing down at the floor, you weren’t really sure how to even answer him. Did you mention your manager? Or was he more bothered about the fact that you’d barely eaten for three days, and the only shopping that you had managed to get yourself was now doused in disinfectant? Maybe he’d be able to help with your missed messages and emails.

Then again, with 43 notifications looming over you, maybe not.

As you lifted your gaze, all of your debilitating troubles culminated into two words.

‘I’m fine!’ A false chipper tone rang through your response as the angel furrowed his brow.

‘Well, now, and please don’t think me rude here Y/N, but I think that may be just a teeny-weeny lie.’

You both sat staring at each other for a few seconds as you let that sit with you. Interestingly, you swore that you could see sunlight on his face despite the fact that it was absolutely pissing it down outside. Eventually, you worked up the courage to respond.

‘Well, yeah. A little bit maybe but on the whole, I’m okay! It’s just my manager is really onto me at the moment which means that I can’t really concentrate so I’m having to stay long hours at work…’

As you spoke, the chain of events spilled out your mouth in a fountain of truth. You got to the point where you couldn’t stop talking, laying out an entire map of problems for Aziraphale to navigate his way across. By the time you were talking about the build-up of notifications on your phone, tears were running down your cheeks, with Aziraphale swiftly reaching across to wipe them away. He watched on as you spoke, an almost pained look in his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see a human soul so torn up, especially because of other humans.

With words falling out of you so easily, both you and the angel were a little taken aback when you stopped yourself mid-sentence.

‘I’ve been coming home and I’ve just been sitting here and thinking, and thinking before eventually-‘.

Aziraphale looked as though he expected you to carry on for about a second, until he grasped exactly what you were talking about. He couldn’t help but getting choked up at the idea of such a beautiful soul being driven to destroying the vessel which was carrying it, and this was all he needed to hear. With both force and care, he threw his arms around your shoulders, allowing your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

‘I’m going to sort this all out for you, Y/N. I can’t bear to think of you being so unhappy when you deserve the world, and everything beyond it.’

Before you could even protest with any idea that he may have been exaggerating, you felt a whimper leave your body which felt like it had been sitting there for centuries. Being held, being listened to, being cared for was something so alien to you, so overwhelming.

As you sat still in the angel’s grasp, you could physically feel worries lifting off your shoulders. You wondered for a moment how this was even possible, before remembering that you were spilling your problems out to an angel.

—

Turns out, Aziraphale really did sort it all out for you. A cheeky little rat infestation in the local shopping centre meant that the shop where you worked was forced to close for a few days, plus your manager had been taken out by a freak case of a rare tropical virus so they weren’t going to be able to leave their house for a couple of weeks.

Your fridge was fully stocked, every surface in your house was shining and a glass of lemonade complete with ice and a little slice of lemon was sitting on the side waiting for you when you returned from a bath which had driven every ache from your body. The angel was leaning against the fridge, reading a copy of Frankenstein which you’d forgotten that you even owned. You stood in the doorway of your kitchen in a fluffy robe, feeling a smile sit on your face for the first time in a while. The angel suddenly noticed your presence and glanced up, beaming at you.

‘Enjoying that?’ You asked, pointing your head towards the book. He held it up.

‘Takes a while to get going, doesn’t it?’ He responded, a quizzical look on his face. You giggled at this, slowly walking over to take the glass of lemonade. The angel watched on as you took a sip from it, the bubbles rising to your nose and making you sneeze. As you put the glass down, you fully turned to him.

‘Thank you, Aziraphale. For everything you’ve done for me.’

‘Oh, we’re not done yet my dear. I’m here for you until the end. Unfortunately one good day won’t be enough,’ he walked closer to you and grabbed both of your hands.

‘But it’s a brilliant place to start.’ He finished. You beamed up at him, but still with some concern sitting on your face.

‘What about when my manager gets better? I’m really not sure I can ever face them again, I-‘ Before you could begin catastrophising, the angel gently placed one finger on your lips. He then squeezed the hand entwined with his.

‘As I said, I’m here for you until the end. There’s many miracles for you, dear Y/N. Let’s just get through today, okay? We can battle tomorrow when it arrives. For now, I think that it’s time my food expertise should come out and that you should take a seat while I prepare the best meal of your life. Now, let’s see…’ He moved away from you, beginning to rummage in each cupboard and your fridge for ingredients. Naturally, you seemed to drift towards your sofa, as if being led.

Must be a miracle. For an angel, he sure can tempt you.

[technicallyr43]

I’ve had this stuck in my head for awhile, so let me lay out the bones of a story for y’all. Watch me obliterate canon for some fandoms.

The apocalypse, where Lucifer led some angels and rebelled against god and were subsequently banished from heaven. Some say that it was due to them not agreeing that humans should be a part of Gods love. Some say they didn’t agree with Gods plan. But the truth is that it was never about the humans. It was about a brother.

The Archangels were all brothers. The first born, Gabriel, the might of god, who was his first and spread his word making the others. Michael, who was like god, who carried out His wishes without hesitation . Raphael, who healed like god, a kind soul who treated anyone and everyone without prejudice. Lucifer, the light of god, who led the younger angels in worship and led them. Uriel, the judgement of god, who sought justice for all and burned with fire. Amenadiel, the warrior of god, who upheld the law of all that was foretold and wouldn’t lose a battle.

With the creation of Angels, and their sub-species, the archangels had a hand in governing over the younger brood. And then God created humans. The Angels viewed the humans as beneath them, and wondered why God would create a lesser being. Some questioned outright, others to themselves. Lucifer asked the most questions, raised the most concerns. But none that were enough to be exiled. Until a tragedy struck.

The first born, Gabriel, was murdered. His soul disappeared and his grace dispersed. It was such a shock that it caused unnatural disasters on earth, and all the beings felt it. Everyone was in shock. How could such a powerful angel suddenly die? The Archangels pleaded with God to ask what happened, but God remained silent. And so, the unrest continued until the 2 sides broke apart and started the War.

The apocalypse lasted years, until finally Michael struck down Lucifer and the other angels, causing them to fall to Earth, and then keep falling. They fell past the dirt and the stone into Hell, and then God spoke to Lucifer.

“This is your realm now. The deepest pit of the darkest corner contains an evil that even I cannot contain. Protect it and you shall have free will.”

And so Lucifer did. He raged against it but when he found out who was behind the prison, he reluctantly guarded it. The fallen angels became demons, and humanity grew.

With the fall of Lucifer, the death of Gabriel and the disappearance of Raphael, the upper echelons of Heaven scrambled to put it back in order. Angels were promoted to higher places, and prophecies were spoken as everyone knew that another war would happen. And then the events of Good Omen happen.

After Adam says no to the apocalypse, Heaven and Hell are making new plans, but then Lucifer leaves Hell, and the good TV show we know as Lucifer starts. And because it’s now been brought to my attention that Lucifer is also part of DC, Arrow, Flash, and Supergirl are here too. Superman finds a little girl and he takes her to Flash Bc she’s got some weird power to rewind stuff.

So one day, a battle starts out, and an evil creature named Lilith starts destroying the world. The heroes are trying to fight her but she’s too strong. Then Lucifer comes to fight, and the archangels too. They don’t know why they fee the need to fight, but they do. Crowley and Aziraphael are there too, and the battle rages on and everyone takes refuge in a crumpled church. They’re all tired and injured, some dying, and it’s clear they’ve lost. And then they hear someone ask them if the battle must go on.

Everyone looks up at the altar and see a long blonde haired man looking at them warmly. The flash crew recognize him and Cisco is like, “yo gabe! Wtf, you disappeared like months ago and ur showing up now. I got some shitty timing”. Gabe just laughs and Crowley is looking like he’s seen a ghost, and says, “did you call him Gabe?”.

Aziraphael asks if he’s alright and why that matters, but Gabe just answers, “it would be you to recognize me like this, Raphael.” The other archangels lose their shit, Bc they realize that Crowley is the missing Raphael and this man is their supposed-to-be-dead brother. They explain that the apocalypse happened Bc of Gabriel dying, and are understandably upset. Gabe just smiles and starts singing “You will be found” from Dear Evan Hansen. (I found that the lyrics are pretty spot on for what happens in this plot)

While he’s singing, their wounds start healing and they feel rejuvenated. And suddenly the little girl screams out “Papa”, and runs to Gabe. Her little horn activates and her rewind power envelopes the whole planet as it rewound to before Lilith started killin people. By the time they’re done, Lilith has noticed Gabe and is boiling in rage.

Because before the Archangels, God created something else. He created Leviathans, a grotesque creature that devours all good. Recognizing his mistake, he create the first archangel, Gabriel to fight them. The both of them successfully lock them up in the prison that the Goddess is locked up in, separated but contained. Well, after God created Humans, a Leviathan broke out due to a human being curious, and immediately went to Heaven to feast of the angel grace up there. Gabriel was able to stop them from entering the gates, but was seriously wounded by the beast. God entered the fray, and was able to immobilize Lilith, the leviathan, but was distracted by Gabriel quickly dying AO she escaped to another dimension. God immediately used an enormous amount of energy to take Gabriel’s soul and fling it to a dimension where he could be born again and find his grace when he’s ready. But after that, he was too weak to speak to the other angels without hurting them. So remained silent until he was able to gather strength to speak to Lucifer about the prison.

And Gabriel was reborn in the MHA world as Hizashi Yamada. He became a hero, a teacher, a radio host, a husband and a parent, before Lilith found him and yanked him and his daughter, Eri, into the dimension she was in. Gabe was able to get back his grace and flung Eri to somewhere she would be safe before ripping his grace out of him and flinging it back to his world and dropping from the dimension stream. He found himself in the Flash world, with no memory. His grace split apart, finding itself into his husband, Aizawa Shouta, and his children, shinsou Hitoshi and Eri. And then enough found it’s way back to him so he could remember and perform the miracle he did at the church. And when Eri found him again, he gained a large portion of his grace, allowing him to fight Lilith and cram her back in the prison, with the help of Lucifer.

And that’s the end of this book. The second part will be up tomorrow.

What the fuck have I done

[claudiafekete]

This is another ordinary story of “how xxx fandoms changed my life” -

- or maybe not. you decide. I want to write it down.  trigger warning for politics, discussion of sexual violence, mild gender dysphoria It’s also horribly long. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

When I first came to tumblr, I had just graduated from APH. Short for Axis Power Hetalia. I learned about it in the form of manga. For years it was my everything - I learned what fanfic or fanart meant and I learned the basic online etiquette. As I grew in years, it accompanied me.

Until it didn’t.

Shortly after I fell into solangelo.

It’s a fun story, how I picked up PJO years after years of absence. My brother was whining about something written in Magnus Chase. “What do you think the Norse Gods were going to do to Percy that Annabeth was crying?” He demanded. I expressed my confusion. He kept on with his different theories and I made the decision to look it up online later.

My online search of Percy Jackson’s fate soon revealed something unknown to me before: solangelo. The first canon gay ship I ever knew. Therefore, at the ripe old age of 19, I threw myself into this endless hole called “tumblr” for the first time.

It was the most LGBTQ+ friendly place I had ever been. I joke you not. It was also the place where I was taught not only how a healthy relationship should look like, but also how sex should or could be like.  You don’t learn anything healthy about sex in Chinese or Mandarin using fandom, at least during the years I was in them. There were rigid 攻/受(roughly translated as top/bottom) stereotypes that everyone rushed to squeezed their characters into them. A lot of time though both person might ship A with B, they wouldn’t interact because one thought A should top and another thought B should top. Their different topping designation resulted in depictions of the characters’ personalities so dramatically differed that you couldn’t recognize them as the same characters.  Other than the refreshing relationship dynamics, Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard offered me a chance to take a look at my gender identity. I had known that theoretically non-binary people existed outside of binary gender, but I hadn’t known how one might live as one or describe themselves as one. I’m not trying to claim that Alex Fierro’s story is the only story of non-binary people. I’m trying to say that it was the starting point for me to make exploration and find the label  “agender” for myself.

I stayed in APH for 6 years. I had expected to stay in solangelo for longer.

Entered June 2019 with its whispers and anxious demonstrations. Entered folks pouring into streets in Hong Kong. Entered tear gas and facemasks and sticks and a bullet scarcely missing the heart and journalists beaten by police. Entered young students not of age disappearing mysteriously. Entered people dressed in white attacking citizens and not arrested by police. Entered dead bodies that were probably “被自殺 (being suicided)”.

Entered a city falling into the hands of tyrants next to your door, and you didn’t know how to help. You didn’t know what to do with yourself with your clean and spare hands. You were so far away from the frontline, you were angry and helpless and hopeless for that.

It was the first time I witnessed, first-hand, how the Chinese government directed the discussion online, so that it seemed as if there were random mobs who were disturbing the peace of Hong Kong and possibly taking money or being trained by US.  “Bullshit. Would there still be so many kids hurt on street if we have received any kinds of training for this?“  Of course, the majority of Chinese people inland wouldn’t hear that. Hong Kong is a former colony. Any calls of outrage toward the present government must be made by disillusioned young people who were unaware of colonization and imperialism. 

That was why I took refugee in Good Omens. I needed to run some where to stop myself from scratching myself to blood. I needed to some works for these clean and spare hands to do so that they wouldn’t pick up something destructive, such as a knife.

If the PJOverse fandom had felt the best place on earth, well, the Good Omens fandom lifted me into paradise. 

I’ve never seen so much kindness being showed under one tag. The creators and actors were all kind and interacted with the fans in their own ways. We were encouraged to do everything, anything, to build art with it however we liked. We as fans were recognized. We were seen. We were ... cared for. It was overwhelming, in a good way.  For that, I would be forever thankful to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett and Michael Sheen and so many others in the production. I would be forever thankful to artists who liberated body types and freed the ties between gender expression and genitals. I would be forever thankful for the fantastic creators out there.

Would it seem as if I’ve only cherished the mutuals I met in Good Omens fandom? It wasn’t my intention. There are friends I keep in touch long after I fell out of love with APH. There are mutuals I got to know through solangelo and I feel, I hope that we are friends. Everyone who has chat with me I do my best to remember. (Though I do left conversation in weird places, become so ashamed of my incompetency that I do not continue them.)

What I’m trying to say is, as good as the solangelo fandom was, I still ran into biphobic posts here and there. It was only once or twice – but it was a constant reminder that being bisexual didn’t seem “valid” to some of the other LGBTQ+ members out there. Who cares what cis-gendered, heteronormative people said? Bullets that shot from friendly fire hurt the worst.

Besides, with a large and vibrant fandom like Good Omens, it’s easier to feel less alone and more… seen.

Damn right. Even after writing more that 5000 words in English it is still so easy to fall back into the comfortable nest of mother tongue. I can read simplified Chinese characters as well as the traditional Chinese characters I grow up using. There probably will never be getting the accent right but soundlessly devouring words in front of a screen? I excel at that.

That was what’s happening when the days rolled into January, 2020. I flew to US as an exchange student and exchanged long letters with a young Chinese woman I met in Good Omens fandom. I’ve never felt so alone in life. English as in creative writing has never come more naturally for me. The words burst in my head and arranged themselves freely on screen or on papers. I’ve never felt more hopeful about my writing ability.

The days rolled into March, 2020.

The first time my mom told me to come home over home, I laughed. The second time, I frowned. Before she pleaded me for the third time, I had grabbed a ticket.

I hadn’t imagined the disease plaguing China and its neighboring countries would affect the whole world.

You lived the rest of the story. I fled back to Taiwan.

 That was where Doctor Who came in. Or David Tennant. Such a strange time. For fourteen days I was the only living human in the house. I watched Casanova – or was it later? Hamlet definitely came before that. Then I could live with my family again. I handed in my homework and wrote in a different language than the people around me were speaking. My parents were working. My little brother was in school. When there was no one to talk to me I either read or watch Doctor Who to pass the time. I fell for Thirteen. I fell for twissy. Falling fast and hard and completely won over by their glamour.

I started internship. There were some small breaks where I could catch an episode or half, but never as much time as before. I dipped into fandom wiki and found that no matter how much research I did, there would always be details I overlooked simply because I could not afford hours watching all the episodes. No matter how hard I squeezed my schedule for time, no matter how much I devoted myself to the series, it would never be enough.

So I gave up, and let it go. For the first time in quite a while, I willingly gave up something for the simple reason of “I want to live a more comfortable life”.

 Came summer. Damp air combined with biting heat and piles after piles of biochemical terms made life agonizing. An ordinary kind of pre-pandemic “agonizing” which felt like a luxury in a world that was ending.

Hong Kong fell.

It was bound to happen. Once I heard protestors fought their way into the legislature I knew, for almost an year I knew, nothing good would come out of this. CCP would never allow its subjects acting out of hand. With such open despise to the authority, CCP would take nothing but a full conquest at the end of it.

See where we are now. As long as you’re “interfering” the political climate “inside” China, it doesn't matter which nationality you hold or where you were or how long it has been since you made the statement. “According to the law”, China can come for you. No, better, it can tell your country to hand you over. What a clever empire. What a graceful empire.

What a horrifying empire.

With the news I spiraled down fast. I kept away from the young Chinese woman I was exchanging letters with, I kept away from any kinds of Chinese social media, and the worst of all, I kept away from Good Omens, for it was sweet and kind and hopeful, for it reminded me of a time where fighting seemed to make a difference. I was empty and exhausted and a husk. Something must come out to fill the void. Someone needed to paint me in colors so that the world wouldn’t notice I was fading away.

I was surprised at who took the brush.

 After ten years, the first man I ever have a crush on strolled back into my life.

He was over thirty, but I always pictured him in his early twenties. Dark hair, eyes of grey or silvery blue. Loud laughter that sounded like a bark. Swift and elegant. Intelligent. Prideful. Stubborn. I embraced him as I’ve done ten years ago as a little child.

When I looked past him, I saw someone else.

Worn, weathered, with wry humor. Attentive and considerate. Tortured by the world yet never stop giving out kindness. Countless scars. Grey hair unfitting to his age. I didn’t pay him much attention ten years ago. This time, I looked.

Let me introduce you Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, my very first crush and the man who is too much like my last crush.

 2020, a month before Fall semester started, I trekked cautiously, timidly back into Harry Potter fandom.

The fandom of August 2020 was very different from fandom of 2010. The lack of author, for one – it became mandatory to denounce the author’s transphobic statement and other bigotry setting. I’m glad that everyone is doing their best to make it a friendly place for minority groups. Though I’m afraid, by making it a white or black situation with short statements and no discussion, it wouldn’t really help people understand why she is wrong in this. However irrefutable the author’s guilt seems to us, it is not something obvious to those who are unfamiliar with the subjects.

But it does feel good to see blogs and fics with the introduction such as “If you support the author’s transphobic bullshit this place does not welcome you”. It feels reliving.

The second was, I found the type of work I’m actively pursuing changed.

Back when I was young – when I was so little I didn’t even know what the word “fandom” meant – I read Character x OFC and some M x M. During the APH period I read an alarming amount of M x M and countless historical AU. When digging through solangelo, beside the canon divergence stories, simple AU like coffee shop grabbed my attention. Coming out stories were my comforts. The best of Good Omens fics were either in canon verse discussing desires, bravery, humanity and mortality, or setting in an AU with the promise of sweet, fluffy endings. Doctor Who almost always focused on Time and Space. Love was twisted and so often tainted by anger. Monster and god were very alike.

I came a full circle back to the Marauder era, and found myself not looking for heroes, but for young fighters struggling desperately in a seemingly hopeless war. I looked for people who were frightened but never, never ever going down without a fight.

I used to find characters and events unfolding in foreign places, now I want  characters who are close to what I am or what I want to be.

---

So, that’s it, my grand journey through multiple fandoms and basically a journey of self-discovery. It’s messy, sometimes painful, but always with so much joy blooming along the way.

Something doesn’t change. I’m still obsessed with words. I’m still a sucker for happy ending. I’m still wishing someone will come and love me the way I need to be loved.

Something does. I stop imagining that some magical power will come into my life and solve everything. I stop looking for others to save me from myself. I start believing that though wounds hurt, some of them do teach us to be a better person.

Long ago, I saw my friends and I as rabbits, without proper weapons to defend ourselves. That wouldn’t do. I thought. For my friends I’ll grow into a snake with fangs to protect them. Maybe I have grown into a snake. Maybe I haven’t. But I do hope I won’t stop fighting for those I love, with those I love.

I hope I won’t give up.

[keyrousse]

First line meme

Big thanks to @nottonyharrison for the tag!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some of your favourite authors!

When I started reading my first lines, I cringed at some of them, those from un-beta-ed fics in particular (I have a period of I-doubt-my-English-abilities) ;). Ah, well. People read them anyway.

Tagging @andordean, @marbienl13, @namesonboats and @merulanoir :)

So, okay, the opening lines of 20 of my latest fics (two of them were written in 2007, actually, but I put them on AO3 in 2019) under the cut:

1. It’s like having a target painted on our backs, Adon Carre thinks, his lips pursed and brow furrowed, as he looks at the whole set up: the three armoured vehicles, over twenty law enforcement officers and a government-issued cargo plane. (Consequences - "The Witcher" Modern!AU, sequel to "Appearances" below)

2. The Doctor doesn’t speak at all after they land somewhere remote to prepare the Master’s funeral. Jack and Martha help him as much as they can, setting up the funeral pyre, but they don’t touch the body. The Doctor’s the one who prepares it, wraps it and puts in on the pyre. (Exhaustion - "Doctor Who" s3 finale)

3. Hardy is pretty transparent, Ellie thinks, watching his slim back as he leans against the railing on the upper floor balcony of the station, head bowed, fingers interlocked, ankles crossed. While he can maintain the dead look on his face when he’s questioning potential witnesses, his overall reaction to the case is obvious. (The Shift - "Broadchurch" post s3, sequel to "The runner" below)

4. The day at the beach after Joe’s ‘banishment’ (Ellie prefers the term ‘send-off’) is both joyful and weird. Joyful because they are together, Ellie with her sons, Beth with her family. Weird because Beth does something that isn’t typical for her: she takes Ellie aside and apologises for how she treated Ellie after Joe’s arrest. (The runner - "Broadchurch" pre-s3)

5. One blink and Ciri crashes into something wooden and blue, with a blinking light on its roof and a weird metallic sound coming out of it; she bounces off and lands on the sandy ground, her head spinning, hands and clothes covered in dirt. (The Jump - The Witcher Modern!AU/Doctor Who s2 crossover :) - probably my favourite. This one wrote itself like a movie)

6. “Miss Venger, how long had you been married to Mister Haute?”

“Fifteen years. We divorced two years ago.”

“What was the reason of the divorce?”

“Incorrigible differences.”

“Noticed after fifteen years?”

“After one year, if not sooner.” (Appearances - "The Witcher" modern!AU)

7. “She’s cold, and lifeless. She must have died shortly before we arrived.” (Whumptober 2019 - "The Witcher" - this line is translated from TW3 actually. My whump is more angsty than whumpy and that was the first time I wrote on prompts)

8. “My Lord, we still don't know how Principality Aziraphale and demon Crowley escaped punishment.” (In accordance to... - "Good Omens")

9. Year 1268

[some fragments illegible due to ink smudges and water stains] To the witchers from Kaer Morhen in Kaedwen, by upper reaches of Gwenllech

It is with great sadness and sorrow

that I must inform you

that our mutual acquaintance, [illegible] in arms, dear friend, brother,

witcher Geralt of Rivia, known as the White Wolf

was killed [illegible, later a different ink used] two days ago during the pogrom in Rivia,

while defending the non-humans from the mob.

May [illegible] consolation,

that during his last moments he was surrounded by family and friends. (Bits from the Path - "The Witcher" books and games. The first time I wrote for that fandom in English: translated from "Urywki ze Szlaku" below. Sorry to all the people who watched the Netflix show but haven't read the books. ;) )

10. Siedział przy swoim biurku z głową opartą w dłoniach, palcami zanurzonymi we włosach. Czuł się parszywie. Wielokrotnie sobie powtarzał, że nie powinien, że zrobił wszystko, co mógł, że nie pozostało mu nic innego, jak oddać tę pacjentkę komuś bardziej doświadczonemu... Co za ironia. Ordynator powinien być najbardziej doświadczonym lekarzem na oddziale, a kartę pacjenta przejął jeden z jego podwładnych. (Nic nie rób - "House, MD". One of the two fics written back in 2007/2008. Yes, it's in Polish. Yes, it's a case fic. I was very busy studying dentistry at the time. Sequel to "Stanąć na nogi" below)

11. - Chciałbym zacząć, kiedy stanę na nogi – rzekł wtedy ze spojrzeniem wbitym w podłogę.

- Pański gabinet będzie na pana czekał – skinęła głową. (Stanąć na nogi - "House, MD". Written as the first of two season 0 episodes of the show.)

12. Walsh was wiping the counter and still smiling after Allison's visit, when he heard the door opening. He looked up.

"Delahoy, hi," he greeted. Eric nodded and shook Walsh's hand. He sat heavily by the counter, not looking at Jason. (Secrets - "The Unusuals". There was this short-lived TV show with Jeremy Renner)

13. „Co ja zrobię z winnicą?”, zastanawiał się Geralt, idąc na ciężkich nogach w stronę miejsca w ogrodzie pałacowym, gdzie zostawił Płotkę.

Kiedy kilka godzin wcześniej otrzymał akt nadania mu posiadłości, pierwszym problemem były zwłoki hrabiego de la Croix w piwniczce i strażników na dziedzińcu. Potem, oczywiście, pojawiły się inne, więc kwestia szokująco stałej kwatery została zepchnięta na dalszy plan. (Dom Wiedźmina - "The Witcher" - TW3 game during and after B&W)

14. Jaskier nie zwrócił uwagi na wysokiego, chudego, kompletnie siwego mężczyznę, który kręcił się po rynku. Był zbyt zajęty uderzaniem do pewnej urodziwej panny i potem uciekaniem przed jej braćmi.

Ów wysoki, chudy, kompletnie siwy mężczyzna zwrócił jednak uwagę na Jaskra. I wyłapywał w tłumie jego purpurowy kapelusz z piórem, uśmiechając się do siebie nieco kąśliwie. Siwy chudzielec miał nosa do kłopotów, a ten poecina w purpurze aż się o nie prosił. (Urywki ze Szlaku - "The Witcher" books and games - the beginning of my adventure in that fandom :) )

15. Chas waits for him at the airport.

The patient, reliable, forgiving six foot six and a half inches man, stands by the Arrival gate with his hands in his pockets. Didn't change at all. (Walls crumbling - Constantine (TV)/Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior crossover. Matt Ryan phase :) )

16. “Hello, Molly, can we talk?”

She was tempted to close the door, but Sherlock looked tired and resigned – at least he wasn't high. (Overdue conversations - "Sherlock". I have the last two chapters saved somewhere, I wasn't motivated to post them at the time. People didn't care anyway. Maybe for the better...)

17. When we first met Garry Miller, he was oozing confidence. Even on the photo Bec showed us, there was a little confident smirk on his face. It was a face of a man who knew what he wanted and how he was going to get it. Not to mention, handsome and somewhat exotic. (Crash course - "Blue Water High". I had a Craig Horner phase, too.)

18. They separated when they heard voices coming towards them. They found Richard's belongings in an adjacent chamber. Richard dressed quickly and they set to leave. On their way out they encountered only a few guards who were not hard to fight off. Soon, Richard and Kahlan ran into the woods. (A bit of a coddling - "Legend of the Seeker". Craig Horner phase, as I said. Never finished watching the show.)

19. Solo zdecydowanie wzbudzał emocje.

Pierwsze, co poczuła Gaby, kiedy pojawił się w jej życiu, to irytacja. Amerykanin, ważniak, który coś od niej chciał, nie przedstawił się od razu, nie zdradzał swoich planów, rozbił jej samochód, nie spełnił obietnicy o hoteliku, ugotował risotto śmierdzące stopami (chociaż całkiem smaczne, kiedy wreszcie odważyła się je spróbować). (Nietykalny - "The man from UNCLE")

20. Ostatnich pięć lat „odsiadki” Napoleona zleciało błyskawicznie. Solo by w ogóle przegapił dość ważną datę zakończenia odbywania kary, gdyby nie to, że Waverly pilnował tego terminu lepiej od niego. Na kilka dni przed końcem wyroku przeniósł ich zespół (i siebie) do siedziby U.N.C.L.E. w Nowym Jorku i po cichu zadbał o to, by ich trójka nie miała nic konkretnego – w sensie misji – do roboty. (Okres przejściowy - "The man from UNCLE")

[ilovecathtates2]

R, X, Z?

Hello!! Thank you! <3

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships

BENJI DUNN / ALAN HUNLEY !!!!!!! From Mission Impossible again.. I'm even considering writing a fic for this pairing even if I dont write lol ... and I don't really believe Alan died >:(

X - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms

Mrs Hughes/Mr Carson - Downton Abbey

Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington - Bridgerton

Aziraphale / Crowley - Good Omens

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go

ok, let's go

I'm currently fangirling about Cobra Kai after my friend convinced me to watch it.

I'm enjoying it a lot but some characters feel really weak to me, like Amanda, that seems to be only Daniel's moral voice... She has no backstory (apart from not liking her mother-in-law and it was solved in ONE episode) and she doesn't act as a mother at all towards Sam and Anthony... I mean, she only interacts with Daniel, or when Daniel is in the scene

Yesterday I watched the episode where there is the July 4th Miyagi-Do presentation and was kinda shocked that after Cobra Kai interrupts it she comforts only Daniel, leaving her daughter absoletely devasted behind...

It's okay for a character to not have a big backstory, but Amanda is really present in the whole story and nothing ever happens to her... if she disappeared in the next episode I wouldn't miss her at all

[clair-void-ance]

Startup and Guidelines

Startup:

Here’s a list of the type of content that I’m allowing to be requested for time being (until my no thoughts head empty lookin brain gets its crap together lmao). I’ve listed a few fandoms and the characters in them that I’ll be willing to write for at the moment. I’ll be adding more soon, so keep an eye out for when I do! Even request a few and I’ll say if I can do them or not! (It’ll be based on if I’ve seen or read any of the media suggested, but if i haven’t seen or read it yet I’ll add it to the list!)

Types of Content:

Full fics

Playlists Maybe?

Headcannons

Drabbles (If I can handle writing so little)

Imagines

Etc.

Fandoms: (bolded means I write best for those***)

(Will do almost any character and any type of reader! Just give me ideas and a detailed description of what you’d like and I’ll try to get to it :) I may have to do research if I don’t understand a topic, but I’ll try to do my best!)

Buzfeed Unsolved: Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara

Conan O’Brien [cause honestly, why not?]

Ghost [the band]: Cardinal Copia, Papa Nihil, Papa Emeritus II, and Tobias Forge

Good Omens [book and movie]: Crowley, Aziraphale, Gabriel, Anathema Device, Newton Pulsifer, Hastur, War, Death, Famine, Pollution, and Beelzebub

Harry Potter [books and movie]: Severus Snape, Cho Chang, Barty Crouch Sr. and Jr., Cedric Diggory, Amos Diggory, Albus Dumbledore, Argus Filch, Hermione Granger, Rubeus Hagrid, Viktor Krum, Tom Riddle, Silvanus Kettleburn, Neville Longbottom, Golderoy Lockhart, Luna Lovegood, Xenophilius Lovegood, Remus Lupin, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Minerva McGonagall, Alastor Moody, Garrick Ollivander, Poppy Pomfrey, Harry Potter, Quirinus Quirrell, Newt Scamander, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Aurora Sinistra, Sybil Trelawney, Blaise Zabini, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Bill Weasley, Percy Weasley, and Ginny Weasley

Joker: Arthur Fleck and Sophie Dumond

Law and Order SVU: John Much, Olivia Benson, George Huang, Odafin Tutuola, Melinda Warner, Sonny Carisi, Rafael Barba, Ed Tucker, William Dodds, Mike Dodds, Carl Rudnick, and Greg Yates.

Network: Max Schumacher, Howard Beale, Diana Christensen, and anyone else you want

Sherlock Holmes [books, movie, or tv show versions! I love them all!]: Sherlock Holmes, Moriarty, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Philip Anderson, Molly Hooper, Irene Adler, and Charles Magnussen

Sofia the First [kinda cringe, but let ya boi live man]: Cedric, Greylock, Baileywick, and maybe Roland

Stephen Colbert [Because, again, why not?]

Supernatural [sort of? I haven’t seen it fully yet, but I got a feel for the characters!]: will list later (way too many characters; gotta love them tho)

The Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit [book or movies. I write pretty decently for all of these and maybe a few more]: Boromir, Pippin, Gil-Galad, Bilbo, Gandalf, Aragorn, Arwen, Elrond, Lindir, Galadriel, Eowyn, Faramir, Grima Wormtongue, Haldir, Saruman, Denethor, Thranduil, Radagast, Ori, Bofur, Thorin, Nori, Tauriel, Beorn, etc.

The Matrix [currently watching, so hopefully I’ll get a good grasp of the characters: Agent Smith, Morpheus, Neo, and anyone else I suppose

The Office [U.S. version, although I may do the U.K. one if I watch enough of it]: Toby Flenderson, Dwight Schrute, Andy Bernard, Darryl Philbin, Gabe Lewis, and Michael Scott

The Thick of It: Glenn Cullen, Hugh Abbot, Malcolm Tucker, Peter Mannion, Phil Smith, Emma Messinger, Jamie, Cliff Lawton, and anyone else I suppose

Top Gear [UK]: James May, Jeremy Clarkson, and Richard Hammond

Twin Peaks: Dale Cooper, Audrey Horne, Jocelyn Packard, Andy Brennan, Lucy Moran, Laura Palmer, Leland Palmer, Tommy “Hawk” Hill, Lawrence Jacoby, Albert Rosenfield, and Gordon Cole

Watchmen [movie and comic for now until I finish the new series!: Walter Kovacs, Jonathan Osterman, Daniel Dreiberg, Nelson Gardner, Byron Lewis, Hollis Mason, Ursula Zandt, Adrian Veidt, and Moloch

To Be Continued....

Will do:

The best that I can with what is asked! I’ll even write for super old or niche media as well if I know it; asking would probably be the best option though :)

Will not do:

To sum up: anything offensive or that is morally wrong. If you aren’t sure about something, just ask! I’m down to answer questions! :)

[tweetsongs]

Gosh, you have such a colourful collection of otp tags. Is there a masterlist?

⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ ‘colorful collection’ is such a nice way of putting it, rather than something like ‘oh god what are these tags, why can’t you ship-tag like a normal human.’

honestly i never thought people would look at my blog enough that the ship tags would become an issue (feel free to hmu if u want me to also use more conventional tags for easy blacklisting/searching/etc, i can go back and add those in), but here’s a list of all the otp tags that i remember having for easy access (behind the cut because,,,,,i underestimated how many of these i have OTL). i’ll come back to edit some in if i realize i’ve missed any:

podcasts

- otp: i need him to be okay (jonmartin, tma)

- otp: arrangements (melanie/georgie, tma)

- otp: alice (daisy/basira, tma)

- otp: i’m already kissing him (taako/kravitz, taz: balance)

- otp: time enough to fall deeply and truly in love (lup/barry bluejeans, taz: balance)

- otp: sweet flips (carey/killian, taz: balance)

- otp: tree lesbians (hurley/sloane, taz: balance)

- vampfire (dani/aubrey, taz: amnesty)

- otp: fuck destiny (wren/shan, spines)

- otp: strange, but not strangers (mabel/anna, mabel)

movies/marvel franchise

- otp: r + e (richie/eddie, it (stephen king))

- otp: avocados at law (matt/foggy, daredevil)

- otp: you gave me a home (steve/tony, marvel)

anime/manga

- otp: a world without haruka is hardly worth saving (haruka/michiru, sailor moon)

- otp: partners in law (miles/phoenix, ace attorney)

- otp: watch my match (soma/takumi, shokugeki no soma)

- ot3: elite gays (takumi/soma/megumi, shokugeki no soma)

- otp: i’m erina-sama’s friend (erina/hisako, shokugeki no soma)

- otp: us against the world (michaela/clarith, evillious chronicles)

- otp: don’t be afraid of this world where we’ll meet (anthy/utena, revolutionary girl utena)

tv shows

- otp: it’s beautiful (will/hannibal, hannibal)

- otp: i think about your eyes and your mouth and what you feel when you kill someone (eve/villanelle, killing eve)

- otp: a nightingale sang in berkeley square (crowley/aziraphale, good omens)

- otp: two sides of a coin (merlin/arthur, merlin)

- otp: we’ll find each other (barry/cisco, the flash)

- otp: we’re two people who love each other (joan/sherlock, elementary- this is mostly qp/platonic, but it deserves an otp tag)

- otp: you were my flashlight (chidi/eleanor, the good place)

books

- otp: we’ve been good enemies (anne/gilbert, anne of green gables)

- otp: as serious as harpy cancer (elliot/luke, in other lands)

- otp: yes or no (andrew/neil, all in the game)

misc (aka that one band)

- otp: you’re a precious existence to me (nino/ohno, arashi)

there’s probably more that i just can’t think of/haven’t used in forever, but even without that this list is long enough lol. hope this helps/or was at least an entertaining insight on my chaotic fandom history!!

(why,,,why do i have three separate shokugeki otp tags,,,,i don’t even like the manga that much,,,,,,,)

[vulpesmellifera]

Fics I Read & Loved in February 2019

For January’s list, check it out here. 

I am super late with this, but I was very busy writing! I read a lot of fanfic in February in between writing my own, but I stuck with a lot of shorter pieces so that I could get back to my writing. I picked out my faves, and here they are:

To All the Lovers in the House Tonight by kedgeree. Mystrade. Mature. 15,950 words. Greg always gets his man, doesn’t he? 

Survey Says by involuntaryorange. Johnlock & Mystrade. G. 9,048 words. I got on a crackfic kick, and this was amazing. If you haven’t seen Family Feud, that’s fine, but it may help with the visuals. 

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid. Johnlock. Explicit. 47,709 words. Gone to a hotel to investigate for Mycroft and there’s only one bed! I think the mounting tension between the two is the best part of this fic - and the payoff is sweet!

The I Know the Steps Series by stardust_made. Mystrade. Explicit. 37,394 words. This is great - Mycroft and Greg come to know each other - first from Mycroft’s POV, and then Greg’s.

Many Happy Returns by sussexbound. Johnlock. Explicit. 5,557 words. John wants to do something special for Sherlock on his birthday. I saw the Co-Bathing tag, and thought, “well, that’s interesting,” but sussexbound makes it work! 

Praise Me by testosterone_tea. Johnlock. Explicit. 4,204 words. Sherlock loves it when John gives him praise. John notices. Super sweet and hot.

Iris by slashscribe. Johnlock. Explicit. 11,948 words. John moves back to Baker St with his daughter Iris. Sherlock pines.

As The Stars of Heaven: Holmesian Reproductive Strategies by Tammany. Mystrade. Teen. 24,342 words. Mycroft decides he wants a family. Greg is sort of jealous. Well, really jealous. 

Home is Not a Place by sussexbound. Johnlock. Explicit. 15,614 words. This series is wonderful. John and Sherlock slowly open up to each other while John deals with internalized homophobia.

Queer Eye: Johnlock Edition by fellshish. Johnlock. Teen. 5,817 words. Crackfic! My favorite line: “Look, five gay guys came in and the first thing he did was lose his dressing gown like a fierce Beyoncé rising from the ashes. No way that boy’s straight.”

Enough is Enough by sussexbound. Johnlock. Explicit. 10,122 words. John is trying to manage his feelings, and shares some old hurts with Sherlock.

A Proper Marriage by afteriwake. Adcroft. G. 1,228 words. I can actually see this ship sailing, and this is a sweet ficlet. (I prefer Mystrade, but if I can’t have it, like when I’m shipping Sherstrade, I can see Adcroft.)

like a moth to a flame by egmon73. Mystrade. Mature. 12,343 words. Greg realizes that he’s attracted to Mycroft. How can he be 52 and just now attracted to a man???

Sweetheart by janto321 (FaceofMer). Mystrade. Explicit. 1,312 words. Mycroft thought it would just be sex between them.

Taking His Time by sanguisuga. Mystrade. Explicit. 8,040 words. Mycroft didn’t quite expect these developments with Greg Lestrade.

Thawing the Ice Man by sanguisuga. Mystrade. Explicit. 5,681 words. Mycroft and Greg get stuck at Baker Street one night and have to share a bed. It’s Christmas!

On The Dangers of Semi-Skimmed by loveanddeathandartandtaxes. Johnlock. Mature. 1,536 words. There’s wanking and innuendo. 

You’re What I Couldn’t Find by hubblegleeflower. Johnlock. Explicit. 6,454 words. This is so hilariously meta, and worth the read.

so let’s go to bed (before you say something real) by JenTheSweetie. Johnlock. Explicit. 18,492 words. John and Sherlock are shagging and that’s all. Then John gets hurt.

Boat Chase! by shamelessmash. Johnlock. G. 14,314 words. NINE NINE! Listen, if you watch Brooklyn 99, then this is the fic for you. If you haven’t watched Brooklyn 99, get thee to Hulu and start watching! It’s funny, it has a diverse cast, it’s LGBT-friendly (not everyone is out in the first season). And then come back here and read this and be in on the jokes and laugh yourself senseless! 

Valentine’s Day Ficlets:

Happy Valentine’s Day by sussexbound. Johnlock. G. All the feels on this one as Sherlock suggests retirement. 

Late Valentine by missselene. Sherlock/OMC. Explicit. This is part of the Sherlock & Sanjay series. If you haven’t read Entangled, it won’t make much sense. Sherlock and Sanjay celebrate Valentine’s Day in their way.

As I did for January, I will post my February 2018 fics as well, below the cut-off so this isn’t such a ridiculously long post!

I was still new to the fandom, so a lot of these are fanfiction faves/classics.

Cold Hands, Warm Heart by chasingriver. Mystrade. Explicit. 51,553 words. Mycroft gets forced into a family ski vacation. The ski instructor is hot!

So Full of Light by mydwynter. Mystrade. Explicit. 21,450 words. One of my favorite Xmas fics. Mycroft and Greg grow beards for a cause. And beards are hot. 

On Pins and Needles by 7PercentSolution & J_Baillier. Johnlock. Explicit. 598,196 words. I remember being wholly absorbed in this story. A debilitating disease befalls Sherlock, and John does what he can to be at his side. 

Damage Control by TheDevilsFeet. Mystrade & Johnlock. Explicit. 46,679 words. Mycroft and Greg go on a drive to extract Sherlock from a precarious situation. It has some very awkward moments, but they get to know each other better.

Sinking the Land by emungere. Mystrade. Explicit. 34,302 words. It started with random cock sucking. And then it gets even better. So good!

The Vampires of London by consultingdetective. Johnlock. Explicit. 72,660 words. Here we get to see some real BAMF John. Mysterious deaths have Sherlock in a tizzy. John knows what’s going on, and leads Sherlock on a dangerous adventure.

Working it Out by sideris. Johnlock. Explicit. 111,824 words. The cases on this one are fantastic. Sherlock finds himself struggling with feelings of attraction, arousal, and repulsion. John is trying to keep up, but he’s about had it. 

Beyond These Games by recreational. Mystrade. Explicit. 37,736 words. Greg wants to know about the man behind the voice. It gets complicated.

Mister Big series by L_Morgan. Mystrade. Explicit. 41,007 words. This is one of the sweetest Mystrade fics out there. And not fluffy sweet...just sweet. Well done.

Virtually Perfect by Random_Nexus. Mystrade. Explicit. 19,680 words. A great Mystrade fic! I’ve reread this one when I needed a pick-me-up. Mycroft and Greg meet over the internet.

Cracks in the Ice by Mice. Mystrade. Explicit. 31,739 words. This is fantastic. It takes Greg and Mycroft from pre-canon to post-Reichenbach, and the ending is such a surprise. 

And the Law Won by MofBaskerville. Mystrade. Explicit. 10,531 words. Mycroft has had a less-than-stellar experience with relationships, and breaks it off with Greg before those things can come to past. Greg isn’t happy about it. 

Pater Noster series by manic_intent. Mystrade. Explicit. 26,551 words. Good Omens AU! Mycroft is a demon and Lestrade is an angel. Things get tangled from there. 

For Services Rendered by Mottlemoth. Mystrade. Explicit. 10,582 words. Greg runs into someone at A&E on Christmas Eve. 

True Minds series by green_violin_bow. Mystrade. Explicit. A Jane Austen Persuasion AU! Need I say more?

Out of Thought  by green_violin_bow. Mystrade. Explicit. 89,323 words. A fabulous love story wherein a disbelieving Mycroft is pursued by a besotted Greg.

The North Wind’s Lord by Mice. Mystrade. Explicit. 7,931 words. An AU where Greg tries to find out why the winter won’t stop. Mycroft is an out-of-sorts sorcerer. 

The Habits of a Lifetime by out_there. Mystrade. Explicit. 54,234 words. One of my very favorite Mystrade stories. Mycroft is dealing with the aftermath of Sherrinford. 

A Safe Prisoner of His Fate by out_there. Mystrade. Explicit. 33,812 words. Young Mycroft is the captive of a dashing pirate. Yes please!

The Sad Divorced Bastards Club by out_there. Mystrade. Explicit. 19,987 words. Greg invites Mycroft to join a club. Mycroft accepts. I love out_there’s work!

Finding a Way series by MuchTooMerryMaidean. Mystrade. Mature. 116,152 words. This one is a difficult but wholly worthwhile read. TW for rape and rape recovery. I think this is a really important piece, though, the most genuine treatment of the topic in the fandom that I have come across - how rape impacts a person, but also the people around them. It also explores identity, politics of sex and gender, family relationships, and so much more. I’ve reread it twice now, and will probably reread again.

Performance in a Leading Role by mad_lori. Johnlock. Explicit. The very first AU I read! And then I was hooked on AUs! And if you haven’t read this, I don��t know what you’re doing here. Are you even serious about this? ;-)

Bonfire Heart by JessieBlackwood. Mystrade. Mature. 44,075 words. Greg is a surgeon, and Mycroft is a pain in the arse. Excellent story!

Clearly, I read a lot of Mystrade last February, and that’s because I got obsessed. Still my favorite Sherlock ship today!

Happy Sailing!

[justlikeeddie]

otp meme

List your Top 5 Canon and Top 5 Non-Canon OTPs. Then, tag 10 people to spread the love, and so on and so on…

I was tagged by @rcmclachlan! It’s fun to excavate your fandom history!

This is a GOOD QUESTION in that, y’know. What is a canon OTP? (What is a pairing? What is canon? What is ‘is’?) The answer, for this post, is “whatever made it easiest for me to split these into two sets of five”.

CANON OTPs

Aziraphale/Crowley, Good Omens

This is canon. “Fight me”? No need. Fight Michael Sheen.

Do say: “And when I’m off in the stars, I won’t even think about you!”

Don’t say: Hey, have you thought recently about the fact that Crowley’s snakeskin shoes might actually just be his feet?

Look at an art: A little ancient Grecian collusion by @seraph5

Read a fic: nothing but the wild rain by @singlecrow

Have I written it? In a desperate exercise in exorcism immediately after watching the show, yes: Going Native and Riding in Cars With Demons. And I have about five WIPs in charliekellypepesilvia.jpg frantically plotted notes stages. Watch this space. (For some time. I’m a bizarrely slow writer.)

Flint/Thomas, Black Sails

Do say: “People can say what they like about you, but you're a good man. More people should say that. And someone should be willing to defend it."

Don’t say: I was enjoying the show so much that I ignored the fact they made captain flint gay but to wrap up the series on the notion he would put his sword down to pick daisies with his male lover is just too much to bear. I miss the 90’s

Look at an art: Journey into the Dark by @riisinaakka-draws

Read a fic: Unaccommodated Man by @septembriseur

Have I written it? Yes, although astonishingly, I only ever finished one fic: Some Affair.

Strange/Arabella, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell

Do say: “The excitement of it was very much to see how you would look at me. The excitement of life was very much to see how you would look at me.”

Don’t say: HE WAS A MUCH WORSE HUSBAND IN THE BOOK AND HE LET HER DIE AS A TREE (I know. I know)

Look at an art: Padua by @cobbledstories

Have I written it? Not as a foreground pairing, although I do have a very detailed Strange/Arabella/Grant fic that lives eternally in my head in the hope it will one day fit a Yuletide request.

Morse/Joan, Endeavour

Do say: “You mean the world to them. You mean the world…” [trailing off in tears]

Don’t say: You do realise he’d make her miserable and she deserves better? (I KNOW)

Cry at a simple gifset: :′′(

Have I written it? No, happy to let the show itself continue to take anything that Morse might hold dear and crush it into the dirt, no need for me to help.

Jake/Amy, Brooklyn 99

Truly the opposite to Morse/Joan in every possible way, aside from the involvement of law enforcement personnel

Do say: “There’s a typo in this crossword puzzle.”

Don’t say: …Title of your sex tape. (Or anything about Season 6, which I haven’t seen yet.)

Look at an art: Jake & Amy by @ivy6am

Have I written it? No, because Brooklyn 99 is an example of that rare and complete joy, Show That Textually Contains Literally Everything I Want From It And Then Some.

NON-CANON OTPs

Sam/Gene, Life on Mars

My “formative” tag on Tumblr is probably overused, but, like. Extremely. Formative. Truly the ur-fandom in terms of my future trope and fic interests. God bless you, weird mid-00s genre experiment broadcast at a particularly impressionable point in my teens.

Do say: Gene Hunt constructs intricate rituals that allow him to touch the skin of other men.

Don’t say: The ending of Ashes to Ashes is canon.

Watch a vid: There Is Too Much Light In This Bar by AbsoluteDestiny

Read a fic: Tangible/Intangible by @lozenger8

Have I written it? I went back to this fandom for Bent for Yuletide a few years ago, but everything else was written when I was literally 17, so caveat lector.

Merlin/Arthur, Merlin

Genuinely wondered whether I should have included this in the canon list. Two sides of the same coin? Merlin's mum desperately trying to get them together about halfway through the first series? “I was born to serve you, Arthur”? As ever, in thinking about this, I’ve just made myself furious again that this objectively fucking stupid children’s TV show remains one of the most emotionally and erotically resonant pieces of media I’ve had the misfortune to consume.

Do say: “I could take you apart with one blow.”

Don’t say: “I could take you apart with less than that.” (It’s been nearly eleven years since this exchange aired on children’s TV and I’m still reeling)

Watch a vid: Alone by sisabet

Read a fic: Past Imperfect by @thehoyden

Have I written it? Yes, although, again, I was a teenager and didn’t really know how to words: Cross You Off My List. I also have a passionately-planned and half-written epic about the ten years of their evolving relationship from boys 2 men (not the band), and its delicate balance between private interaction and public performance, which I thought I was finally going to finish for the ten-year anniversary of the show last year, but at this rate, might be done in time for the twentieth.

Fraser/Kowalski, due South

Do say: “Partnership is like a marriage, son.”

Don’t say: Anything that will wake the Vecchio anon.

Watch a vid: Goody Two Shoes by @laurashapiro-noreally and pipsqueak

Read a fic: Kowalski is Bleeding by @cesperanza

Have I written it? Weirdly way less of it than makes sense for the amount of time that this was my primary fandom, but yes, published some time after the fact: Homecoming and Poles.

Strange/Grant, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell

Surprise double-entry for JSMN! Except not at all a surprise, because I am into so many aspects of this book and show that I could probably have filled most of the ten entries with JSMN rarepairs. (Please, talk to me about the criminally underexplored sexy class politics of Strange/Childermass.) But anyway, Strange/Grant was, somewhat to my surprise, my takeaway pairing from the TV adaptation.

Do say: “There are any number of magical things my friend could do to prove it,” while looking like you’re about to combust from how excited you are by the prospect.

Don’t say: HE WENT TO VENICE IN A PUDDLE WITH NO GOODBYE (I know)

Look at an art: Major Grant by erebusodora (technically only one half of the pairing, but it’s just a very nice painting)

Read a fic: Wilderness by @the-omnishambles, ie The First Strange/Grant Fic On The Internet

Have I written it? Yes, went a bit mad in 2015. A peculiarity of the Iberian Peninsula (long, slightly sad); An England that is dead (shorter, sadder); and Sound and Vision (no redeeming features).

Charles/Erik, X-Men

Again… IS THIS CANON. Explain any single thing that happens in any of the X-Men timelines if this pairing isn’t at LEAST unconsummated canon

Do say: “I couldn’t disobey you even if I wanted to.”

Don’t say: Sorry, what exactly was the plot of X-Men: Apocalypse?

Look at an art: A sketch by loobeeinthesky (the watch!!!)

Read a fic: Wisteria by by @columbinepurples

Have I written it? Yes: The Width of a Circle.

In turn, but only if you’re bored and like making a list as much as I do, tags for:

@confusinglyamusingly

@butteronmyroll

@johnnyvod

@the-omnishambles

@sixohsixoheightfourtwo

@cribins

@septembriseur

@itsmapes

@deputychairman

@drawsaurus

(You don’t… have to go into as much detail as this… I think you’re just supposed to say who the pairings are, but listen I’m staying with my parents this week and I have a LOT of tumblr downtime)

[doctortreklock]

An Ancient Place (the by his side remix) - December 32, 2019

Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.

Prompt: Full of History and Secrets (x)

December is a month of remixes and sequels!!!

Fandom: Good Omens

Title: "Night Vale is an ancient place. Full of history and secrets, as we were reminded today." Welcome to Night Vale, Ep. 4

Words: 4635

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If there was one thing Aziraphale hadn't expected from a brisk fall day in 1967, it was meeting Anthony J. Crowley.

He'd been doing his usual afternoon stroll through Soho, feeling somewhat more lonely than perhaps he customarily did, when he decided, on some whim that he would be forever grateful for, to pop into St. Patrick's for a brief visit.

Like all holy sites, he felt a pleasant warmth as soon as he set foot on the hallowed ground. Surveying the sanctuary with all the satisfaction of a job well done by someone else, he noticed a particularly striking man by the basin of holy water.

He was dressed in what Aziraphale had come to suppose must be the fashion of the day: an overly tight outfit in a somber black that looked out of place in the brightly lit church. With dark, round sunglasses and heeled boots to be precise. He found it a bit ridiculous, but was quietly aware that they must find him equally ridiculous for his own, more old-fashioned, apparel. Not that the thought made him anxious to match the current trend. Aziraphale had determined long ago that he would only bend to the latest fad if it was no longer the latest. It would hardly be worth updating his wardrobe for any style that lasted less than at least three decades.

Though most trends in human fashion were perplexing and often downright distasteful, Aziraphale couldn't help but note that this man seemed to wear the clothing with ease. The dark jacket flexed easily around his body as he carefully held a glass jar in the water to fill it. His black leather gloves were likewise somewhat jarring when compared to his otherwise brilliant surroundings, Aziraphale noticed. But, he admitted, to the contrary, they also seemed to fit him just as well as the rest of his ensemble, regardless of how out-of-place they seemed in context.

As he watched, the man pulled the bottle cautiously out of the water and held it nearly at arms' length, as if struggling to figure out what to do with it. Unbidden, Aziraphale felt a smile slip onto his face.

It quickly vanished, however, when the man seemed to discover an itch in the most inconvenient place, giving what could be overestimated as a full-body flinch. The general effect, however, was that the glass bottle slid against his leather gloves and began to fall.

Before he knew it, Aziraphale had reached out and caught the jar. He wasn't out of breath, which meant he must have employed a minor miracle to have made it so quickly. Hopefully Gabriel wouldn't audit his miracles any time this century. Either way, he didn't regret his slip in the slightest, as it made the man's face light up in the most relieved smile he'd seen in decades.

"Here you go," he told the man, surprised to find himself a little breathless after all. "Careful that you don't drop it again," he cautioned. "That glass would be quite a bother to clean up."

The man took the bottle back with a dazed nod, holding the bottle gingerly, close to his body this time. Good deed done, Aziraphale began to turn away, ignoring the hollow feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. There was no reason for it, after all. He'd only just met the man.

"Would you like to grab a drink?" the man blurted, and Aziraphale halted in surprise. "As thanks," he finished.

The hollow feeling vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving behind a warmth that Aziraphale couldn't quite attribute to the church, no matter how much he wanted to rationalize it away. "I would be delighted," he told the man.

The man adjusted his grip on the bottle, tucking it close to himself and reaching out with his free hand. "I'm Crowley," he said. "Anthony Crowley, but most people call me Crowley."

Aziraphale smiled and shook Crowley's hand, the leather of his glove soft under Aziraphale's fingers. "Ezra Fell," he said, introducing himself by his current pseudonym. "I sometimes go by Zira," he added on impulse. He wasn't sure why it mattered to him that this human, who he had never met before and likely never would again, address him by even a portion of his true name, but he could not deny that it did matter.

Crowley grinned at him, a wide smile of delight, and for a moment, Aziraphale was so distracted he couldn't have said if he was standing in a church or on the moon.

--

Anthony Crowley turned out to be the most fascinating person Aziraphale had ever met, and he'd spent time with everyone from Virgil to Arthur Doyle. They seemed to click instantly, almost as if Crowley had been made as his mirror, a perfect foil. If Aziraphale hadn't known, deep in his corporation's bones, that his Creator had never been so generous and would never forgive him for his arrogance, Aziraphale might have wondered if Crowley had not been made just for him.

He could picture Crowley everywhere, at every point in his own history. Cutting a dashing figure through ancient Rome, rescuing him when he'd been discorporated in France during the Revolution, even standing next to him at Eden as he watched the first thunderstorm. Even now, looking back at his memories, Aziraphale could nearly taste the empty spaces around him where Crowley would have stood, slotted in so neatly it would be impossible to tell he hadn't been there the entire time, warping the emptiness around his own solitary figure into a pair of companions, two partners, a binary star system in perfect balance.

--

"Packing is exhausting," Crowley proclaimed, flopping back onto Aziraphale's bed. Though, as of today, it was their bed, really. Aziraphale felt a flutter of joy at the thought. He'd only known the man a month, but already he knew that he wanted to spend as much of Crowley's life with him as the human would allow.

"It was mostly unpacking today, my dear," Aziraphale told him in amusement. "The packing was yesterday." He flitted around the room, tucking away more pieces of his solitary life that he hadn't quite managed to get out of the way yet.

"I don't care," Crowley told him firmly. "Packing, unpacking, it's all the same to me. Moving is exhausting, angel," he declared with a wide gesture in front of him. That he happened to be gesturing at the ceiling did not seem to put him out at all, Aziraphale noted with a burst of affection.

"Well, then," Aziraphale said lightly. "Maybe you should just never move again." He didn't pause, stuffing the detritus of the 1930s into the corner of another drawer. He also didn't look at Crowley.

"Maybe," Crowley echoed, and Aziraphale could hear the smile in his voice.

He chanced a look over at the bed, and Crowley was watching him with something like wonder and something like love in his gaze. "Maybe," Aziraphale repeated more firmly.

"C'mere, angel," Crowley said softly, sitting up and holding out a hand. Aziraphale went to him effortlessly, allowing himself to be pulled down next to Crowley on top of the quilt. "Zira, I--"

"What is it, my dear?" Aziraphale prompted when Crowley faltered. He reached out and gently tucked a lock of Crowley's hair behind his ear.

"I--" And Aziraphale had only known Crowley a few short weeks - though it felt like a thousand years already - but he'd never seen the man so vulnerable. "Zira, I've been alone for a long time," he said quietly, closing his eyes for a moment, and Aziraphale's heart broke a little at seeing the tears well up around his eyelashes. "I never thought I'd meet anyone who would want to spend a month with me - me, as I truly am - much less a lifetime. And I just..." he fell silent, overcome with emotion.

"I know, my dear," Aziraphale whispered to him, cupping Crowley's cheek with his palm and pressing their foreheads together until their noses brushed and their breath mingled and Crowley's face was too close for Aziraphale to see the tears in his beautiful, golden eyes. "I know."

He held Crowley close until the man's breathing evened out and Crowley fell asleep. Aziraphale wouldn't have been able to move if God themself had appeared and ordered him to. Instead, he expended a few small miracles on switching off the lights and repositioning them under the blankets instead of on top of the covers.

Aziraphale carefully lifted one of Crowley's hands from the sheets, kissed it gently, and held it, all night long. He didn't sleep.

The cool October winds whistled at the windows that night, but inside an angel kept watch over his slumbering partner and vowed to never let the man be lonely again for all the days of his life.

--

Sometimes Aziraphale wondered bleakly what he thought he was doing. Playing house with a human was never something that could be forgiven or overlooked by his superiors. It was only a matter of time before they found out. Even if his time with Crowley was long past by the time they discovered his infraction, it wouldn't stop them from issuing punishment.

Even if he managed to slide under the radar for another century, it wouldn't matter in the long run. Crowley's soul was bound for Heaven; Aziraphale refused to contemplate otherwise. But angels and human souls were strictly separated. Even if he discovered Crowley's location and broke a thousand rules and laws, he still wouldn't be able to find his beloved.

Somehow, though, when he watched Crowley coax another stubborn bromeliad into blossoming, a small, genuine smile on his face, he had to admit that it was worth it. If he lost Crowley sooner than anticipated, if he was demoted, if he Fell, if he was plunged into a column of hellfire, if he searched fruitlessly for all eternity... It would all be worth it for ever smile he could put on his dear Crowley's face.

--

They had just gotten back from Warlock's birthday party when Aziraphale got the message from Gabriel. It was clunky and awkward, the way Aziraphale could only imagine his own would have been if Crowley hadn't patiently dragged him into the twenty-first century.

"Aziraphale," Gabriel demanded. "What is the meaning of this? Was it not the point of adapting Heaven's communication system so that you could be easily reached at all times? We should have kept scrolls. I liked scrolls. Uriel liked scrolls too; I know they did. Michael liked telephones, though, so we had to switch. Ugh." It was around that time that the answering machine had run out of space and cut him off.

Aziraphale frowned at the telephone, but was distracted by Crowley's announcement that he was going out on an errand.

"That sounds fine, my dear," Aziraphale told him. "I need to go 'round the corner as well. I've got a message from a rare bookseller I know and he wants to meet with me," he lied. It was his standard lie for the Heavenly business he was still called upon to complete. He would have worried about how often he needed to be gone, but Crowley traveled around the country as well on technological consultations, so they could align their absences to each other's.

Aziraphale wasn't quite sure how he felt about the fact that his bookshop, once a comfortable home for one, now felt empty without two. He settled on being very thankful for Crowley's entire existence.

Once Crowley was gone, Aziraphale locked up the bookshop and walked a few blocks over to his favorite sushi restaurant. Well, third favorite sushi restaurant and his favorite to go to without Crowley. Crowley adored the conveyor belts in Aziraphale's first and second favorite restaurants, but Aziraphale preferred the chirashi from the third. The other two never seemed to get it quite right.

"Aziraphale!" Gabriel boomed. Also, Aziraphale's third favorite sushi restaurant was the only one Heaven knew about. Which was why it was so ideal for these sorts of meetings.

"Gabriel," he greeted, not quite meeting the same level of excitement as the other angel. "Why did you need to meet with me so urgently?"

And then Gabriel told him about the Apocalypse.

It was all he could do to nod in the correct places as Gabriel extolled the virtues of the coming End of Days. "Right, right," he agreed at the end. "And what's my role in all this?" He was desperately hoping his role was to tuck himself into a corner somewhere and come out when it was all over. At least that, he could do with Crowley.

"You are to take up arms alongside the rest of Heaven!" Gabriel told him cheerfully. "Come back with me and prepare for the Great War!"

No! Aziraphale's brain screamed at him. "I've got a couple things to talk care of," he prevaricated. "Earth things, you know. Principality duties and the like. I'll pop up when I've got a minute," he promised.

Gabriel didn't seem to like that very much, but he did accept it, and a moment later, he vanished.

Aziraphale immediately collapsed back into his seat as if all his strings had been cut. "Oh my," he whispered to himself. "Oh my word."

Aziraphale had once been a Guardian of Eden, with the sword, rank, and title to go along with it. He had seen six millennia of human history unfold before him and had held his beloved in his arms for fifty years. He had anticipated watching human history for another six millennia and holding his beloved for as many years as he had left.

So now, to see the world dwindle, that future history cut short, was devastating. But not as devastating as realizing he wouldn't have the millennia after that he had planned on.

Human lifespan was limited by design. But just as Aziraphale had imagined Crowley beside him for the first six thousand years of his life, he had hoped to imagine him by his side for the next six thousand. That once he'd lost Crowley standing beside him, he would still have the painful, bittersweet memory of Crowley as his companion for the rest of time, lingering in the space around him, in the empty spot that Aziraphale knew he would now reflexively compensate for for the remainder of his existence.

Which now seemed lingeringly brief. His breath caught in his throat as he had sudden visions of Crowley cut down by flaming swords or beset by hellhounds. "No," he whispered, the word escaping before he could stop it. There were more casualties of war than the loss of his eternity, Aziraphale knew.

He threw a few bills on the table and rushed back to the bookshop, abruptly desperate to retreat behind her familiar walls. Maybe Crowley would be home soon, he thought longingly. Then he could hold his dearest partner tight and pray and try not to become swamped by the despair he could already feel rising inside himself.

There was nothing he could do to stop the Apocalypse. It was ineffable, after all.

--

Every once in a while, when Crowley seemed surprised to find another birthday at hand, or when he cursed under his breath at the arthritis creeping through his joints, Aziraphale would excuse himself and sit in the corner of their bookshop, staring at his own hands until they stopped shaking and his vision had cleared again. Then he could wipe his face, breathe for a few minutes, and go find Crowley, a smile on his face.

His hands were never the aching, swollen mess that Crowley's became as they aged. He hadn't been able to bear the thought of his hands hurting too much to hold his books, so he had simply introduced weaknesses into the bones, sapped the strength from the muscles, allowed the skin to thin and age until it was almost like the vellum pages of his favorite tomes. He had hoped Crowley wouldn't think it an unusual sign of age.

Once, when they were younger men, when Aziraphale had found the first of Crowley's grey hairs, curled just above his ear, when Aziraphale's stomach had dropped for the first time at the inevitability of time, of aging... Once, Aziraphale had sat next to Crowley on a park bench in St. James and remarked quietly on the shortness of the human lifespan and then, quieter, on how happy he was to have the opportunity to spend any of it with Crowley.

Once, Crowley had frozen, then abruptly curled closer into Aziraphale's side and had asked Aziraphale in a rough voice to emphatically "never bring it up again, please, angel." And Aziraphale had simply curved himself over his dear, dear friend and carded a hand gently through Crowley's still-mostly-dark hair and assured him gently that he never would. It had broken his heart enough to say it the first time.

--

There was a book. Oh, thank his Creator, there was a book.

Aziraphale wasn't entirely sure where it had come from, given that he had an encyclopedic knowledge of his collection and The Nife and Accurate Prophefies were decidedly not in it, but he had elected not to look a gift horse in the mouth, as it were. Maybe the appearance of the book was itself ineffable, he thought giddily. Maybe it was a sign.

Crowley had been wound tighter than a particularly high-pitched harp string the past few days, but Aziraphale couldn't blame him. He knew he had been fraught with tension himself ever since the conversation with Gabriel. Even the tender moment with Crowley that evening hadn't dissipated his lingering dread.

He had finally deciphered the identity of the Antichrist and the location of the Apocalypse's commencement, when Aziraphale's thrill of discovery trailed off into hesitant contemplation. What was he going to do with the information? If there was anyone else he could trust to definitively wish to halt the Apocalypse...

Crowley sprang to mind instantly, but Aziraphale discarded him just as quickly. Crowley was the love of his existence, a deeply sarcastic man with a heart of gold, but he was still only human. In a battle of angels and demons... Aziraphale had to keep him safe.

The next best option was Heaven itself. Surely the angels would want to stop the Apocalypse. Surely they would. And then Aziraphale and Crowley could have the remainder of their happily ever after. So he called them.

Unfortunately, it appeared Heaven itself did not have quite the same view on Heaven's role in halting the Apocalypse as Aziraphale did. He had only just managed to extract himself from his conversation with the Metatron when the Witchfinder Sargent himself burst into the bookshop. Aziraphale only had a fleeting moment to be thankful that Crowley was out before he vanished in a beam of white light.

--

The next few hours were harrowing for Aziraphale. He had needed to get to Tadfield as quickly as possible, and so had ended up riding shotgun with Sargent Shadwell's - ahem - lady of the night. All the while, he had fretted to himself about whether Crowley was alright and how frantic he was going to be when he returned to the bookshop to find Aziraphale missing and he'd left a chalk circle on the floor, oh dear, and was he going to call the police and file a missing persons report or was there a minimum amount of time Aziraphale had to be missing for that?

So he was understandably a little distracted from the actual Apocalypse itself. Once he was himself again, it took him a moment to realize the vision of Crowley running towards him was not actually a stress-induced hallucination. For one, Crowley's skin was pale under dark soot and when he hugged Aziraphale, he smelled of smoke. For another, even Aziraphale's imagination couldn't accurately conjure up the feel of Crowley's arms around him, no matter how many times he tried to memorize it.

Then he and his partner had to introduce themselves to the Antichrist. And what a bombshell was dropped. It did oddly remind Aziraphale of a bomb strike. Or perhaps one of those grenades he'd found himself on the wrong end of once or twice. The inciting event. A moment of ringing silence. And then an explosion.

Only this explosion didn't bring rubble or fragmented metal shards. It brought--

"Me, too," Crowley said, eyes wide in astonishment.

And that didn't make sense. "What?"

"I'm immortal too," Crowley said with hushed awe. "Neither of us is going to die."

Aziraphale's world ground to a halt. "What?"

"I get to keep you," Crowley breathed, and Aziraphale could see something like wonder and something like love in his gaze, just the same after so many years together.

Then they were rudely interrupted by the attempted continuation of the Apocalypse. After a spot of encouragement, Adam sent Gabriel and the accompanying demon away, leaving Aziraphale and Crowley alone once more.

"Let me introduce myself again, properly this time," Aziraphale said, excitement bubbling up. Crowley was immortal. He wouldn't have a shade of Crowley, he would have Crowley by his side for the rest of eternity. All that was left was to discover the shape that eternity would take.

"My name is Aziraphale, a Principality of Heaven, formerly Guardian of the Eastern Gate," he told Crowley, holding out a hand. "I have been stationed on Earth since Eden, and I am desperately in love with you," he added, just in case it needed saying. And now, laid bare with words, he stripped off the layers of miracles that had been keeping him aging apace with his so-called human partner.

Crowley reached out and took his hand. Aziraphale gripped as tightly as he dared. The arthritis was still running through Crowley's hands, but Aziraphale needed Crowley to understand one thing: he was not losing Crowley. Not now. No matter who Crowley was, angel or demon or other, Aziraphale was not losing him.

"Crowley, Serpent of Eden and the First Tempter," he said, losing layered illusions as well. Aziraphale could feel the fingers beneath his strengthening, straightening, and slimming, and he gripped all the tighter. "I was assigned to the temptation of Earth six thousand years ago." He cleared his throat. "I have been in love with you since you saved me from accidentally destroying myself with a jar of holy water."

All Aziraphale's half-recalled stories of the Serpent of Eden vanished abruptly. For a heart-stopping moment, all he felt was cold terror at the thought that Crowley might have died the day they met, that Aziraphale might have lost Crowley before he ever really got him.

If Crowley had needed circulation, Aziraphale might have been concerned by how tightly his was holding his partner's hand now. "Was that-- What were you doing with holy water, Crowley?"

Crowley looked surprised at his concern. It was the same look he got when Aziraphale reminded him point-blank to take his medications, and that more than anything told Aziraphale that Crowley-the-demon and Crowley-the-human were still the same fundamental Crowley.

Then Crowley told him about Ligur, which he seemed to think would be reassuring. Aziraphale was most definitely not reassured. Spine-chilling terror was not, in fact, more fun to experience for the second time in ten minutes.

Fortunately for Crowley, Lucifer decided to show up shortly afterwards, saving him a long, twenty-seven point lecture on personal safety.

At long last, however, it was over. Finally. For good. The Antichrist and his friends went their way; the young couple went theirs; and Shadwell and Madame Tracy set off for London as well.

In the light of their escape from certain doom, Crowley seemed to have forgotten how he'd come to arrive at the air base. He stuttered to a halt outside the gates, and Aziraphale was going to ask him what was wrong until he caught sight of the same thing and stopped just as abruptly.

"Is that..." he trailed off, because he knew exactly what it was. "Oh, my dear," he murmured, putting a comforting hand on Crowley's shoulder. The demon swayed into the contact, so Aziraphale slid his hand around his back to his other shoulder, pulling him into a half-hug. "What happened to her?" He knew as well as anyone who had ever met Crowley, that the Bentley was his most treasured possession.

"I--" Crowley faltered. "I thought Hell might have gotten you. And then the M25 was on fire, and..." he trailed off. "This," he finished, gesturing half-heartedly toward the shell of his precious Bentley.

Aziraphale couldn't begin to touch on all the ways that made him feel. "I love you," he told Crowley firmly. "Wait here."

It didn't talk too terribly long to track down the Antichrist, even if he did have to invoke a minor miracle or two to catch the bicycles. After a rambling explanation and a tentative question, Adam looked surprised and fixed the Bentley with a thought. Apparently he'd thought he'd undone everything already, and the car must have slipped through the cracks.

Aziraphale thanked him politely and went to find his partner.

When he arrived back at the Bentley, it was to find Crowley already tucked inside the cabin, running his hands over the steering wheel and cooing at the dash. "All right?" he asked.

Crowley looked at him. "I love you," he said. "So very much, angel." And then he kissed his hand and his cheek and his forehead and drove them back to London, holding Aziraphale's hand the entire way and using miracles to compensate for being a hand down during shifting.

The drive itself was quiet, as if neither could bring themselves to give voice to the revelations surround their, well, revelations.

At last, Crowley broke the silence. "So many years, angel," he said quietly. "So many years we could have known each other."

"I like to think we made up for it," Aziraphale said lightly. "Quality, not quantity, my dear. I can't imagine we would have been as we are if we had met as ourselves."

Crowley hummed. "You may have a point there, Zira."

"Besides," Aziraphale continued, ignoring the fluttering in his belly at the nickname. Zira was something of himself that only Crowley had. No one else called him Zira. He found he was quite content with that even now, when Crowley had the option of his full name. "It's hardly as if our paths never crossed. The Tower of Babel was yours, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Crowley admitted, glancing at Aziraphale before turning back to the miraculously reconstructed M25. "I was quite proud of that one, actually. Got me a commendation for original thinking."

"I can't say I enjoyed it as much," Aziraphale told him. "All those new languages meant more rules to learn. And the translations!" he exclaimed. "I had never imagined they could be so terrible."

Crowley snorted. "Should I be apologizing for doing my job?"

"Never," Aziraphale told him warmly. Then, "I pictured you there, you know," he said quietly, holding Crowley's hand tightly. "With me. Every lifetime, every city. You slotted into my memories as if you had always been there."

Crowley exhaled. "I never could," he confessed. "Not because you're so modern, angel," he teased, "but because I couldn't imagine you having lived and died so long ago."

Aziraphale wasn't sure what to say to that, so he just held Crowley's hand. "I'm here," he settled on. "Now and for always, my dear."

"I know," Crowley said, meeting his eyes again. They were full of warmth and love. "I'm so glad for it, you have no idea, Zira." Then he continued, lighter this time, with a familiar, curious smile. "I've been wondering. Did you ever met Virgil?"

[bugheadfamily]

This week the spotlight is on Anna ( @writeradamanteve )! Click the read more link below to get to know our member!

Spotlight by Mila, @jughead-jones | Graphic by Katie, @betty-cooper

Anna | @writeradamanteve

Name: Anna 

Age: 40

Location: New Jersey

Any other languages aside from English people can contact you in?: Filipino.

Favourite Riverdale characters and ships?: Aside from Betty and Jughead, I do love the awfulness of Cheryl Blossom and spitfire that is season 1 Veronica.

Cheryl Blossom is unapologetically terrible, and in real life, I would absolutely HATE her, but there’s something to be said about a woman who just goes all in. I get that hardness in her, and I like it that she admires others for it, too. That Toni brings out her soft side is a plus, but I would prefer that she stays true to her character outside of her romantic relationship. 

Season 1 Veronica Lodge was a champion of women. I loved that about her. I may not have bought the whole “Betty is my best friend” assertion, but I did like that she was doing it to make amends for her past. S1!Veronica wanted to do better and she looked at Betty and thought Betty was a good person to hang out with to further that. Veronica as a person is methodical. Deliberate. And those are characteristics that can be both good and bad. I like it that Veronica can go both ways. I also mean that in a very gay way. No amount of her sleeping with Archie will convince me that her character can’t be bi. I can’t even say I hate her in season 2. She seemed a little lost there, but she was deciding between her family and her principles. For a while she thought that both could coexist, but when she realized in the end that it couldn’t, she broke away. That’s badass. 

As for Betty and Jughead, I have at least 500K worth of words in fanfic that expresses the many ways I love them. But to be clear: 

I love Betty for being so steadfast in her beliefs. She may have her insecurities when it comes to how she looks and what her mother may think of her, but when it comes injustice and friends endangering themselves for sex, she isn’t going to let anyone prevent her from doing the right thing. She is a go-getter, from saving Pop’s to saving her relationship (especially when Jughead was pulling away from her). She is a master at wielding household items — a skill, we learned, she got from Alice, who’s clearly handy with a lamp. She’s kinky, and she can be scary stone cold — forcing Cheryl to testify the truth with blackmail, watching Jughead punch Chic in the face without flinching, drowning a man to get him to confess to his sins (although ask me some other time about the morality and racial undertones of that, as that is an entirely different conversation). But she also deeply values her relationships. She cares for her loved ones so much, friend or family. That makes her so strong.

Let me tell you the many Jugheads I love: Soft!Jughead, Smughead Jones, Curious Jones, Snowflake!Jughead, ProudBF!Juggie, and even HaplessSerpent!Jughead. I like him best when he’s writing and when he’s making literary references in regular conversation. I love how sarcastic he could be and how his transition from loner weird kid in Riverdale High to popular serpent prince in Southside High tugs at my heartstrings and makes me mad, too. Like Betty, he cares fiercely for the people he loves. His need to belong becomes real to him, after he tried to deny it for so long. As much as we all have our issues with Season 2 Jughead, it added certain dimensions to Jughead that I love to write about in fanfic.

Favourite moments from S1 & S2?: I think I loved most of season 1, but the moments that stood out to me most were these: When Betty was dancing happily in her Cheerleading uniform, when Betty and Jughead were searching Jason’s room and got caught, when Jughead and Betty went to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy together, when Betty rushed to SSH to save Jughead only to find him laughing at the lunch tables with his newfound friends, when Veronica stood up for Betty at the tryouts, when Veronica showed Cheryl compassion, when the girls all banded together to make Chuck suffer the consequences of his misogyny (again, I have words for this, but mostly — why only him? His wasn’t the only name on that playbook), when Cheryl calls people names, when Jughead protected Betty from her vandalized locker, and of course, when Jughead climbed Betty’s bedroom window.  While I can’t get enough of Jughead throwing Betty against the kitchen counter, I have to admit I still loved those other scenes a whole lot more. That said, I will still hope for what I mention in question #7.

Season 2 — ah, my goodness. I don’t need to explain how S2 broke my heart in so many good and bad ways. While there were some golden moments, I think most of us are in agreement that there were so many things that could’ve been done better. However, I STILL do have favorite scenes in this Hell Season: Jughead running the gauntlet was amazing, Betty working on Reggie’s car, the entire street race sequence, every time Betty uses a household object to save people (a shovel, a rolling pin, a poker), Jughead and Betty disposing of the car--from her house to the swamp, that entire episode of “The Wicked and the Divine”, Cheryl and Toni finding one another, and the hunger strike scenes.

What are your hopes for S3?:

Bughead summer sex montage. 

MOAR Bughead Detective Agency. 

A slammin’ Riverdale Parents Flashback episode. 

Joaquin stays and Kevin gets better with love and BDE.  

Kevin and Josie becoming step-siblings.

Reggie and Sweetpea being half-brothers.

Veronica being the Speakeasy Queen.

Cheryl stirring trouble (even if I know I’ll hate her for it).

Archie getting a clue.

Other fandoms you’re into?: My thing is that I don’t usually fan hard on more than one thing. My past fandoms were Harry Potter, Teen Titans, Anime (many of them at once), Cowboy Bebop, X-Files, Star Trek Voyager, and Firefly. At present, I love Star Wars (all of them — eh, except maybe for Episodes 1, 2, and 3), Wonder Woman, and all the Marvel movies.  

What are some of your favourite movies/TV?: Classics: Galaxy Quest, Tropic Thunder, Labyrinth, The Princess Bride, Forest Gump, The Matrix, Constantine, Clueless, The Breakfast Club, Transformers: The Animated Movie, Snatch, Firefly, Veronica Mars, Supernatural (Seasons 1 - 5), X-Files; 

Most Recent: Pacific Rim, Black Panther, Wonder Woman, Rogue One, Ready Player One, Anne with an E, Daredevil, Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, Anthony Bourdaine’s old and new series. 

Favourite books?: There are so many, fam, but here are the ones that first come to mind:

Harry Potter 1 - 6 (yeah, sorry, not a huge fan of the 7th)

Emma by Jane Austen

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

All of Louisa May Alcott’s books

All of Sharon Shinn

All of L.M. Montgomery

Anne Marston’s Rune Blade Trilogy

Barb and J.C. Hendee’s Noble Dead Saga

The Infernal Devices Trilogy (Cassandra Clare)

A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray

All of Zilpha Keatley Snyder books

All of Paula Danziger books

Juliet Naked by Nick Hornby

Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer

The Unlikely Disciple by Kevin Roose

The Monster of Florence by Douglas Preston and Mario Spezi

The Terror by Dan Simmons

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

Misery by Stephen King

Favourite bands/musicians?: I shall date myself, thanks:

Queen

Guns & Roses

Metallica

Nikki Minaj

Cardi B

Imagine Dragons

One Republic

The Killers

Lily Allen

Cake

Eminem

Amy Winehouse

U2

Sting

If you could live in any fictional world which one would you choose and why?: Harry Potter, no doubt. I would like to live in a world that relies on magic. I would like to go to a magical school like Hogwarts. I would love to fight in a resistance to overthrow an evil sorcerer. Plus, I would really, really love to meet Hermione.

Favourite food?:

Ramen (the real stuff, not the dried instant ones)

Banh Mi

Bun bo Hue

Sushi

Filipino Food — particularly Adobo

Tacos

Mangos and strawberries

Favourite season?: Summer.

Favourite plant?: This is an odd question to me as I don’t have a favorite plant. They are just there and sometimes they give me grief when I have to tend to the outside of my house because they’ve gotten unruly on some level (like — Fall, why do you have to discard your leaves all over my grounds?)

Favourite scent?: Baby’s breath, food, and freshly changed bed sheets.

Favourite colour?: Victorian pink.

Favourite animal?: Cats and Owls (I am definitely a witch by heart).

Are you a night owl, an early bird, or a vampire?: I sleep late and wake up early. I am an old person who can go on 5 hours of sleep.

Place you want to visit?: Portugal or Prague is next on my list.

Do you have pets? If you do, tell us a little about them: I have two pets. Pootie is a cat. He is a gray tuxedo. He loves me best, but he also hangs around my eldest child a lot. Every once in a while, he bothers my husband. Bob is a hermit crab. Bob bores the hell out of me and I am equal parts terrified that I will find him dead in his cage and tired that I am still taking care of him. His previous companions, Larry and Curly, have perished. When I found them dead, I screamed. Hermit crabs are creepy as fuck when they leave their shells, like I can’t stand them that way. I don’t know why I am stuck taking care of Bob, but he’s here, he is under my care, and God help me, he’s a stubborn bastard.

Tell us a little about yourself?: 

For work, I’m a web producer/web developer, and I maintain about 20 sites for my company.  

I used to work in publishing.

I went to law school and quit.

I eventually married my high school sweetheart and now we have 3 children.

I was always attracted to women, too, but growing up, I was too afraid to come out as bi. It still intimidates me, coming out to new people now. Most times, I just let them draw their own conclusions.

Fun or weird fact about you?: There’s nothing weird about me that you don’t already know. Fun fact: I kickbox in the nearby UFC gym, and one time, I was practicing with Tai pads with a dude who kicked me in the leg by accident — he just “grazed” me, really. I TRIED VERY HARD to pretend that I was alright. That night, my leg was swollen, and three months later, I saw that same dude fighting in the octagon on TV.

Asks for fanfic authors:

How long have you been writing?: 20 years.

Which is your favourite of the fics you’ve written?: That is impossible to answer. Truly. So I’m going to close my eyes over a list of my stories and where my finger lands, that’s my fave. It’s Drive.

Favourite fic/chapter/plot-point/character you’ve ever written?: This is even harder. 

Polly’s character arc in Wicked. I really love how I fleshed her out in that story

The development of Kevin and Jughead’s friendship in Harvest to Home

Jughead’s relationship with Archie and Jellybean in Drive.

Betty’s story arc in Drive.

The twists and turns of Wicked.

The rich ambience of Harvest to Home.

Betty and Cheryl’s friendship in Harvest to Home.

The text conversation in Drive.

Sweet Pea’s background character in Drive.

Cheryl’s character in Wicked.

The car chase scene in Drive.

The hotel scene in Cowboy Jones.

The Peitho kitchen scene in Cowboy Jones.

Which was the hardest to write, and why?: Wicked was hard to write. I had set out to write this story with the twists and turns in mind, and those twists were interlaced. I had to set stuff up all throughout the beginning and middle so that the end would make sense. It was also harder because of Season 2. The background of those episodes in contrast with what I had in mind tended to make me nervous about reader expectations. Like when Hal was suddenly the Black Hood on Riverdale, it felt odd to not make him so terrible in Wicked. 

One of the hardest chapters I had to write was a chapter written in Cheryl’s POV. Delving into her psyche was a difficult switch to turn on and at some point, I was doubting whether I can do it, but I did it and there it was. And I don’t regret it at all.

How do you come up with the ideas for you fic(s)? (examples: Do you draw inspiration from real life? Listen to music? Get inspired by TV/movies?) Do you have an process to your writing?: Inspiration is different every time. 

For Harvest to Home, I wanted to write a fic about a very domestic Betty who made beautiful things. While I was writing that fic, I was deeply into the show Fixer Upper because we had just moved into our own new home. I was absolutely inspired by the designs I saw on TV and our need to decorate our home. I wanted Betty to be so good at it that she wrote a blog about home making. I had a lot of inspiration for that as well, since in the publishing company I used to work for, I worked with a lot of chefs and homemakers who published books. 

For Drive, I was inspired by images of Mechanic!Betty at the start of Season 2. I think I may have seen a couple of fics inspired by the movie Baby Driver, where Jughead drove the getaway cars, and honestly, I got a little mad that Betty was never the driver. So I wrote the damn thing, and suddenly, Jughead was drag racing in Season 2. I wrote that fic with a lot of alternative music in the background. I usually started my chapters with the lyrics of those songs that inspired me.

For Wicked, I started writing it for Halloween and it basically grew too large of an idea to make it to Halloween of that year. I was also hesitant about how the fandom would receive a fic where Betty was a witch. Then there came that article about how Alice was possibly a Spellman. WELL THEN. 

Cowboy Jones was absolutely inspired by the Camp Bughead prompts. I figured since I hadn’t been driven out of the fandom by torches and pitchforks because of Wicked, I’d try for some sci-fi, a genre I really love. I aimed to misbehave with Cowboy Jones, so I told myself that this was going to be my smuttiest work yet. I had also put out an X-Files inspired bughead short called The Truth is Here for that same prompt. 

I answered the question about my writing process here and some more about character development here. 

Idea that you always wanted to write?: Kitchen Confidential type story, where Jughead is an asshole chef who is determined to make his restaurant succeed. Betty becomes his sous chef and shows him a thing or two about cooking and about life.

Favourite character to write?: Betty and Jughead, no doubt.

Best comment/review you’ve ever received?: Well, there are so many commenters who have been so fantastic, but my favorite comments come from those who want to have a discussion with me, mostly because I like to reply to all commenters to express my gratitude and it’s easier to reply when I can pick up a conversation.

Best and worst parts of being a writer?: Best part is finishing a chapter and posting it. Worst part is getting flamed. I have been fortunate enough to have a welcoming group of readers here, but I’ve had my share of flames in other fandoms. I always try to dig deep for something constructive in them — there always is something that can be so useful to my writing, but man, those are TOUGH to handle sometimes.

Do you have any advice to offer?: Few things:

Don’t let fear rule your life. Embrace that fear and get to know it. Find out what makes it frightening, then overcome it. 

Practice. That is the only thing that will make you better at anything. 

Learn from failure. It’s a bitch of a teacher but it’s the best lesson you’ll ever have.

Find work that you love. It always pays.

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This is the eleventh installment of Bughead Family’s Member Spotlight series. Each week, a member’s url is selected through a randomizer and they will be featured in a spotlight post. In order to participate, please join the Bughead Discord (more information found here). Thank you.

[dont-call-me-algernon]

C, D, G, I, O, W, X 🌚

Thanks for the ask!C - a pairing you never liked and probably never willI will get so much hate for saying this, but Jehan/Montparnasse from Les Miserables. I never understood the ship's popularity and, since the two characters never meet in canon, their relationship dynamic is entirely based on fandom speculation. Which is not inherently a bad thing, but in this particular case I'm not a fan of the usual fandom characterisation of them and their relationship. Thad said, I did read some good fics with this pairing as the main focus (mostly in the Italian fandom) and I enjoyed them, but the ship itself never appealed to me and probably never will.D - a pairing you wish you liked but just can'tNone? I don't like...wish I shipped X instead of Y or vice-versa. I may joke and complain about the lack of fanworks for some of my favourite pairings but I never tried to force myself to like a more popular ship just for the sake of having more fanart/fanfics/people to talk about it with.G - do you remember your first OTP, who was it?I remember being very invested in Mello/Matt from Death Note as I was just starting to understand what fandom and fanfics were. I'm not entirely sure it was my very first ship (that would probably be something I shipped "unconsciously" when I was even younger), but it's probably close enough.I - has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so which ones and whyI don't think so. It has made me less eager to start watching a show I was thinking about starting more than once (I can't remember a specific example right now tho), but it has never spoiled a piece of media I already liked. When I "leave" a fandom it's usually because I gradually grow less interest in it, I'm not as invested in it as I was before and/or find something else to obsess about that pushes it in the background. If I don't like the fandom of a certain book/show/ship I just...don't interact with it and stick to the few other fans whose company I enjoy.O - choose a song at random, which OTP does it remind you of?"Plug In Baby" by Muse has always been a "Kylux song" in my head, since I first saw The Force Awakens. There's something about the lyrics -especially the refrain- that makes me go "ah, yes, this is totally Hux musing about how good it would be to rule the galaxy with Ren by his side as his second in command/bodyguard/unofficial lover/whatever".Also i think the tune kinda fits their general aesthetic.W - 5 favourite characters from 5 different fandoms- Lord Vetinari (from Discworld)- John Segundus (from Jonathan Strange & Mr.Norrell)- Justin Law (from Soul Eater)- Contessa (from Worm)- Jack Rackham (from Black Sails)X - 3 OTPS from 3 different fandomsSince it's hard af to choose only three, I'll choose a ship from each different piece of media (anime/manga, book, tv show).- Shizuo/Izaya (Durarara!!)- Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)- Anne Bonny/Jack Rackham (Black Sails)

[sassycassie-s-series]

Newsflash 5

Chapter 5 - Blind Date

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): The Flash - Barry Allen/The Flash & OC (Heather Astra)

Rating: PG

Notes: (Masterlist) This has taken a while. Tumblr was being fritzy on my laptop and it’s impossible to update from mobile when the story is on my laptop. Sorry. Welcome back!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Previous Chapter

^^^^^

Friday afternoon came around a couple days later. Lunch with Barry on Wednesday had been fun—we just went to this little café and had homemade muffins and strawberry lemonade—and I started to feel like we were getting to be even closer friends. Which made me excited. Since I’d left my family and friends behind in Keystone, I hadn’t made many friends in Central. Cisco and Caitlin had sort of glommed onto me when they started showing up at the lab looking for Barry, but apart from them and Barry, I didn’t really know many people.

Friday afternoon had me banging my head on my desk, causing my mug of pens to rattle.

Finally Barry spun around in his desk chair, looking irritated. “What’s wrong, Heather?” he demanded.

“This. Doesn’t. Make. Sense,” I complained, punctuating each word with another head-desk.

“What doesn’t?”

“This blood spatter in this photograph is circular. But a moving person would leave elliptical droplets—more elliptical the faster they’re going. But. These. Are. Circular,” I muttered, hitting my head on my desk with the last couple words.

“That’s because they were staged. Those were left by a person standing with a dropper of blood,” Barry remarked.

I sat up from my desk. “For real?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I already took a peek at those photos.”

“Hey,” I protested teasingly. “It’s my case!” He knew I was joking. I actually really valued his input and opinion on cases I was stuck on. He chuckled too, spinning around in his squeaky chair a couple times.

“I know. But I was curious. And it’s not like you’ve never looked at the cases delegated to me.”

I smirked. “True.”

“So, you filming tonight?”

“I’m not, actually. I filmed and edited last night. I’m posting tonight but, uh… I have a date,” I commented. “My sister’s husband has a buddy who lives here in Central and my sister conspired with him to set me up on a blind date. We’re gonna get milkshakes and go see that play at the theater over on Metropolitan Avenue.”

“Cool. Looking forward to it?” Barry asked.

“No. I hate blind dates. And I’ve met some of my brother-in-law’s buddies. If this guy’s anything like those dude-bros… I’m going to hate every second of it.”

“Okay. How about this, you start getting too uncomfortable, you send me a text that says ‘SOS.’ I’ll come save you.”

“Barry, you know I couldn’t ask you to do that,” I pressed.

“You’re not asking me. I suggested it. I’m telling you that if he makes you uncomfortable, you let me get you out. Honestly, it’d be no bother. I’m not doing anything tonight so I’ll be free to come meet up with you,” Barry countered. I opened my mouth to keep protesting. “I want to do this, Heather.”

I sighed. “Fine. But only if it goes bad.”

“Deal.”

“Oh, hey, guess what?” I asked, changing the subject.

“What?”

“My subscribers think my apartment is haunted. In my last video, there was some light mirage—probably from taillights ‘cause it was red—and people kept asking if it was a ghost. It was pretty funny.”

Barry chuckled. “That is pretty good,” he agreed. “You sure it wasn’t The Flash?”

“Of course I’m sure. It wasn’t solid enough to be. But I appreciate the teasing,” I commented.

“Okay,” Barry teased, voice playful and expression joking.

“C’mon, Barry,” I argued with a smile. “Why would The Flash run past the background of my video? He probably doesn’t even know I exist.” Barry shrugged and went back to his work. I rolled my eyes and copied him. My forehead was aching where I’d hit it against the desk so many times and I was probably developing a bruise. Whoops.

^^^^^

Six in the evening had me waiting for my video to upload and process on YouTube while I was getting ready for my date—who would pick me up at seven. I was redoing my hair and touching up my day makeup for a more evening look. I’d changed from work clothes to date clothes and actually put on perfume. Usually I figured that my shampoo and deodorant made me smell acceptable, but for dates I’d put on perfume so I could make a really good first impression.

I had just finished pulling on my black flats and leather motorcycle jacket when the video finished processing. I published it, Tweeted and Tumbled it, then snapped my laptop closed. I glanced at my watch. It was quarter to seven.

I had my SOS text for Barry already written and pulled up so all I had to do was unlock my phone and hit Send if I started getting freaked by my blind date.

Popping my knuckles nervously, I peered out my living room window where it faced the road below. My sister insisted I’d be able to at least tolerate this guy, and I trusted her. What I didn’t trust was the fact that she didn’t know him well. I resisted the temptation to bite my lip so I wouldn’t rub off my lipstick prematurely and took deep breaths.

On my way! The text was from my date—Jason.

Great! I’ll be ready! I replied. I already was completely ready. Date purse on my shoulder and all.

A red streak trailed by yellow light zipped by the street below my apartment. I smiled. Maybe a Flash Sighting was a good omen.

Or maybe not.

Jason showed up at my door, looking exactly like I thought he would—like the dude-bro buddies of my brother-in-law’s that I’d already met. Blue jeans, athletic T-shirt under a leather jacket far more beat up than mine, and a snapback cap backwards on his head. His bangs poked through the little gap where the hat’s size could be adjusted. His hair was dirty blond. He had mild stubble, blue eyes, and a square-jaw. He was like a gym rat on steroids and a little intimidating. An inch or two shorter than Barry—though at my punitive height, tall was just tall—with broad shoulders and narrow hips.

I already wasn’t enjoying the evening.

But he surprised me for the first half-hour of the date when we went to get milkshakes. The play started at 7:30 so we’d have some time to drink our shakes and get to know each other. He was being kind and chivalrous, and for a while I was impressed. He showed up on time, he insisted on paying, he opened the doors for me, he even insisted on walking nearest to the road while we were on the sidewalk, claiming that he’d get hit first in the case of a runaway car.

I found myself pleasantly surprised and actually having a good time.

That changed after the play started.

Jason slouched in his seat, looking bored, one hand supporting his face. He kept making sarcastic, borderline rude criticisms about everything—the costumes, the songs, the acting, the character motivations—everything. It was ridiculous and immature.

I was already half-tempted to text Barry to save me. But, for the sake of being polite, I just rolled my eyes when Jason wouldn’t see me and tried to tune him out in favor of watching the play. It was one I really liked—The King and I. Who didn’t like Rodgers and Hammerstein? I tapped my fingers on my knee in time to the beats of the songs.

At intermission, I stood to stretch my knees from sitting for so long and take a peek at my phone. I’d felt it buzz earlier. It was a text from my sister. How’s it going with Jason? Call me when you get home!

Jason, apparently, was not enjoying the performance as much as I was. “What’s the point? No one randomly bursts out into song and dance in real life!” he complained, at least maintaining some form of manners by speaking quietly so the people around us wouldn’t glare at him—though he’d probably deserve it if they did.

“Obviously you’ve never visited my house,” I joked with a grin, not really thinking about being delicate.

He gave me a skeptical look. “For real?”

I smirked and nodded. “Yup!”

“So you don’t think musicals are boring?”

“Nope!”

“Okay. So you’re one of those girls,” he muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded, feeling offended but going for gentle.

Jason shrugged. “You’re a girl who likes musicals. There’s nothing wrong with liking musicals. I just don’t.”

I was going to sit out the second part of the play for the sake of being polite, but I just couldn’t with this guy. He had deliberately punctured my pride and poked fun at something I enjoyed. I couldn’t consider dating a guy like him.

I gave him a smile. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

Snatching my purse—I hadn’t even taken off my jacket since the theater was cold—I slipped out of the auditorium and out into the lobby. I unlocked my phone and hit Send on my text to Barry.

SOS. Theater. Please.