Everything's changing!

(I’m back to using song lyrics as titles. Ah, memories.)

We’ve had a lot of changes between last year’s Big Bang Two and this year’s Big Bang Three. Here is a quick round-up in order of announcement, with links to more information about each change. Make sure you’re up to date before signing up!

  1. We now have seven mods, adding Angi and Remy to the line-up. The other mods have stayed the same: Gina, Alex, Bethany, Courtney and Michelle.

  2. The minimum wordcount for fics has been raised from 5,000 to 10,000.

  3. We now have cheerleaders as official (but optional) team members.
  4. Once claiming has finished, signed-up participants can now opt in to being pinch hitters for betas and artists who have to drop out.

Sign-ups open two weeks from today!!!

- Gina



An exceptional kiddo is writing some exceptional songs. They are a songwriting prophet destined to save the world by summoning tornadoes from their palms. Let the songs melt over you.

Please support the artist by going to their shows and saying “WOW YOUR MUSIC RULES!!! SO MUCH!!!! WOW!!!! ENCORE!! ENCORE!!" 

stream/download/buy a tape here:


You can support Lindsey directly here:




I’m very excited about Wednesday’s reintroduction in the next chapter of FBOFH =D

The door swings open and a young woman is standing there. She looks a little like Izzy, the girl at the Arnelle house, with the same long, strawberry blonde hair. Hers is done in two braids that neatly frame her freckled face. The freckles go down over her shoulders, for that matter, easily visible because she’s wearing a yellow and white sundress, which accentuates the slight curve of her belly.

“Wednesday?” Derek asks, his tone a little doubtful, and Stiles’ gaze snaps up to the girl’s face. She’s wearing pink lipstick and has pretty blue eyes and –

“Wednesday?” he echoes, and the eyeroll is what finally makes him sure. “Jesus, I didn’t even recognize you without your goth get-up.” He glances over at Allison and sees that her jaw is slightly ajar, so clearly she didn’t either. Derek probably was going off scent more than sight, as he’s wont to do. Stiles’ gaze goes down to her stomach again, and now he knows that his mouth is probably hanging open, too.

“What are you doing here?” Wednesday asks, and her tone is anything but friendly, so at least that hasn’t changed.

“I got your invitation,” Stiles says. “To the wedding.”

Wednesday frowns. “I didn’t invite you. What are you talking about?”

“Well, somebody did,” Stiles says.

“The wedding is on Saturday,” Wednesday says. “Come back then.”

She starts to close the door, but Stiles grabs it. He’s completely lost his ability to be smooth and tactful. “Wednesday, what the hell? Why are you suddenly getting married and only giving people a week’s notice? Why did you leave home? Why – why are you wearing a yellow dress? You’re the last person on earth I would have expected to see in a yellow dress – ”

“I can wear whatever I want,” Wednesday says. “I don’t have to justify my fashion choices to you.”

“Okay, that, that’s true,” Stiles says, “but, holy shit, are you pregnant? I guessed at this being a shotgun wedding, but holy shit – ”

“Stiles,” Derek says, with a wince.

“Yeah, sorry, but I just – ”

“Yes, I am pregnant,” Wednesday says. “Anything else? No? Then I’ll see you on Saturday.”


Charlie Brooker’s 2014 Wipe.