How much SJM writes

This is no way hate on ASOIAF (I read the first two books and enjoyed them), but they’re of comparable length to Sarah’s books (and the only other really thick books I’m familiar with). (Meaning acomaf, acowar, eos, qos,  tod)

A Game of Thrones came out in 1996 at 850 pages (so yes, longer than Sarah’s books). Two years later, 750 page sequel. Two more years, 1200 pages. Five years later (2005), 1100 pages. Six years after that, 2011, 1100 pages. Another six years and the sixth book isn’t out yet.

Substantial books. Obviously, GoT is one of the biggest names in TV at the moment because everyone follows it. Similarly, ToG is one of the biggest YA series at the moment.

[I’m not including ACOTAR in this, only QOS and beyond]

QOS-2015-650 pages





Now, to average those by publication time and pages etc

{sum of all the pages}/{years from first to most recent publication}

ASOIAF: 5000/15 = 333 pgs/yr

TOG: 3400/3 = 1133 pgs/yr

Now, these numbers feature rounding and aren’t uber precise but it’s an approximation. And maybe this can be critiqued because I picked GRRM who is notorious for being a slow writer.

But I’m not nitpicking that. Wyrd knows I hardly ever finish a fanfic and if I write a thousand words a day once a month I feel like queen of the world. My point isn’t to insult GRRM. 

My point is that SJM is writing a metric ton of words and pages every year. She also goes on tour for each book, and as we recently learned, has had her whole world turned upside down with her father. 

We’re spoiled. Most authors turn out a book a year, MAYBE two, or maybe every year and a half. And most of those books (at least the series I’m familiar with) are maybe half as long as ACOWAR. 

Again, this isn’t a critique of other authors. I write slow, lots of people do, and it’s not a crime.

But good lord cut the woman some slack. She’s a HUMAN not a word generator. Not an AI that can function without sleep/food/rest/emotions. An author is a person first. She has a family, friends, etc, and (some) people act like she should be shamed for being a bad author for needing an extra sixth months to not die of overworking herself.

Honestly, I don’t care if this is dramatic. Just… just be kind to people. Be patient. And think how much better they’ll be when the books aren’t rushed to high heaven.

Imagine Jensen surprising you with the best birthday present ever. 

Characters: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: teeth rotting fluff, Jensen being a TOTAL nerd, Harry Potter references (duh, it’s a warning and it’s hilarious)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: 6k Celebration and One Year Fic-i-verary Celebration Fic TWELVE. The line requested was, “If somebody is willing to judge me, then I don’t really care what they think. ” It was requested by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing  . It will be highlighted in the fic. Thank you so much for celebrating with me. I am combining it with my challenge submission for @winchester-writes Birthday Drinking Challenge. She gave me the line “Why are your eyes so damn pretty?” and the alcohol Crown Royal. So that’s worked into this little diddy as well. Hope you guys enjoy it, it’s TOTALLY nerd central. I’m kind of in love. You may consider reading King of the Nerds. The reader will make a brief comment about it in the fic. 

Side note, HAPPY 21st birthday ROSIE POO!

Feedback Appreciated

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Anything Can Happen In The Next Half Hour - Four

TDQ: I stay away from this place for three weeks and the one night I get curious, and you’re in here.
Tell me you’ve been on every night and this isn’t some shocking coincidence?

Spencer stared at the screen thinking of how to reply as Y/N stared at hers, waiting.

Dr: This is the first time since…

TDQ: Brilliant. So we have some random telepathy shit now.

Spencer could almost hear the disdain in her voice and it was starting to annoy him. Almost like she was suggesting it was his fault.

Dr: Well maybe that’s what happens when you send your colleague half naked photos.

TDQ: Hey! You sent them back too. And I didn’t KNOW you were my colleague.

Dr: True. But you’re the one who upped the ante that night remember? You turned the conversation away from casual chatting to…. Whatever it was.

Okay, so he was right. Y/N did need to stop acting like it was his fault. It wasn’t. She needed to just…. talk about this with him. Maybe actually discuss what had happened online that night?

TDQ: Whatever it was? Full on mutual masturbation, you mean?

Spencer almost dropped the phone, before composing himself and replying.

Dr: Yes.

He didn’t know what else to say right now. He wished they could have just slipped into their previous online banter. NOT the one from last time. Although…

TDQ: Can I just say that now I know who DrJackblacklover21 is, I’m hella shocked. Never expected you to come out with those sort of lines or to send those sorts of pictures.

Dr: I’m not sure if this is a compliment or not.

TDQ: It’s a compliment, Reid. You seem so…. Well you know….

Dr: Can you not call me that on here? It’s weird. And I know exactly what you’re getting at. Everyone has this skewered view of me, like I’m still an innocent 14 year old who needs to be protected.

TDQ: Okay, doctor it is then. I take it you’re not as innocent as everyone thinks then?

Now Y/N definitely was intrigued. Was there a side to Spencer Reid that no one knew about, that maybe she could dig into?

Dr: I sent you that photo didn’t I?

TDQ: You did. Gotta say, I don’t have an eidetic memory like you do, but my brain definitely hasn’t forgotten that image.

Wait… Why did she put that? That sounded… flirty.

Was it meant that way?

Spencer couldn’t tell how that message was meant. Was she trying to make him prove a point here, about his lack of innocence?

Dr: Well I haven’t forgotten the one you sent me either.

TDQ: Yet I still caught you staring at my tits the other day.

Dr: Only because I now know what they look like.

TDQ:. You didn’t catch me staring at your junk anytime, did you? And I know what that looks like.

Dr: Point taken, I’ll try to avoid looking at your chest.

It was then that Y/N realised that maybe she didn’t want him to stop. It made her feel… desired. Spencer Reid staring at her chest was making her feel desired. Good lord woman, it definitely HAD been a dry spell. That was the only way she could explain what she put next.

TDQ: Did you like what you saw?

Dr: Pardon?

What the hell? Spencer was totally confused now about where this conversation was going.

TDQ: Did you like what you saw? It’s not a hard question.

Gulping, Spencer answered.

Dr: If I didn’t, I’m not sure you’d have got the reply you did.

She smiled to herself, feeling pleased with that response.

TDQ: On a completely non inappropriate subject, that book you mentioned a few weeks ago, the one you told me I’d thank you for recommending. I totally thank you.

Dr: You read it then?

And so they both slipped back into easy conversation with each other, forgetting that they rarely seemed to converse ‘in real life’.

This continued for another month or so. Spencer and Y/N would idlely chat at work, never about anything in particular other than work. And then in the evenings they’d log on and talk about their lives. What they enjoyed doing outside of work. Neither spoke about work, it was like this chat was a sacred sanctuary away from it. The only time they referenced it was after a particularly heavy case which had lead to Y/N crying in the toilets in the jet on the way home. Although she’d reapplied her make up, Spencer had clocked the red rims around her eyes and had been surprised to see her online that evening. He thought she’d just go home to sleep. He’d simply said to her “The last few days, are you okay?” and she’d replied telling him yes, and thanking him.

This was all until one day when Spencer walked into the break room to hear Penelope, Derek and Y/N having a conversation about chat zone.

“So you’ve not been on there since photo boy?” Garcia asked her and she visibly winced, seeing Spencer enter the room and going to the coffee machine.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Photo boy?” Morgan asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Yup. Y/N met a guy on there that she met up with. Nothing came of it though, but they did have a steamy photo exchange session. I woke up the next morning to a screen shot of one of the photos he’d sent her with the caption ‘have asked if he wants to meet. Hopefully I’ll get to ride that monster one day soon’. Even I was impressed.”

Y/N was trying so hard to keep a straight face, although she could see Spencer with his back to the group. He stiffened at Garcia’s comment and she knew he had to be blushing.

“So what happened then? Why did you not end up ‘riding that monster’?” Morgan asked.

“He just…. erm, wasn’t what I expected him to be that’s all.”

Later that night when she logged in, she had a message waiting for her.

Dr: Monster?

TDQ: Shut up.

Dr: I’m not sure whether it being called a monster is a compliment or not.

TDQ: Well you managed to impress Garcia and as you heard from that caption, I said I wanted to ride it…..

Dr: What a disappointment I must have been.

TDQ: Meh. Only because I know you. If we weren’t work colleagues, I’m fairly certain that it would have happened, even if had just been a one night thing.

Dr: You know that rule about interdepartmental relationships is a myth right?

TDQ: Carry on and I’ll think you actually still want to fuck me.



Dr: I’m joking.

TDQ: Oh great, charming. So now I’m not good enough for you.

Y/N was laughing now, amused at how this conversation was turning out.

Dr: I’m quite certain it would be the other way around, but stop digging for compliments. You know you’re attractive.

TDQ: Question then. Why aren’t you like this at work? You’re much more outgoing here. I like this side of you.

Spencer pondered the question momentarily before deciding to answer truthfully.

Dr: Because at work, we all have our little roles, you know? Like Morgan is the smooth man whore, Rossi is the sauve older man who can have woman half his age eating out of the palm of his hand. Hotch is the… erm, sexy single Dad (no, before you even ask) and I’m… well I’m none of them. Because I was so young when I started in the FBI, I became the baby, the one who had to be protected. The sweet and innocent one. I can’t compete with the flirtatious banter that Rossi and Morgan have, and I don’t have the power that Hotch does which I’m sure drives woman crazy. So… I just, I stick in the role I was given when I joined.

Spencer had summed up the men in the team almost perfectly.

Dr: On here though, I can try out new things. It’s not like I’m not being me, but perhaps I’m just being the me I want to be, without risking the judgement or laughter of the others, rather than the me that everyone thinks I should be. Does that make sense?

It made perfect sense to Y/N.

TDQ: I get it.

Dr: Question for you then. Why are you even in here. You could obviously have any guy you wanted, you’re beautiful. Why resort to online chat rooms.

TDQ: So I can’t be judged based on my looks. If I go out, I get hit on because of what I’m wearing and what I look like. Rarely do I intellectually connect with the guys that actually have the balls to come and talk to me. And the ones that I do have a connection with, are always too scared to make the first move cos they think I’m out of their league or something stupid. I wanted to see if I could meet a guy who didn’t know what I looked like, who didn’t care.

Dr: So have you actually met anyone like that on here? Do you talk to other guys, if you don’t mind me asking?

TDQ: I don’t mind you asking. I talked to a few people to begin with, but after a week or so it fizzled out. You’re the only person who I talk to regularly on here, which is strange considering we actually have each others numbers and could talk normally. But… I kinda feel like we’re different people in here, different but the same. What about you? Have you been testing out your new found sexting skills with the mysterious ladies of the Internet?

Dr: Nope. Again, aside from a few casual chats in the main chat room, you’re the only person I private message with. Which like you’ve said, is strange. Especially considering you act like you’re ashamed to talk to me in public sometimes.

TDQ: Do I?

Y/N was shocked. Did she really come across that way?

Dr: Yes. Ever since we started talking in here, if we’re speaking at work and someone else comes in, you shut up. You stop the conversation and walk out. It makes me feel like you don’t want to be seen interacting with me.

TDQ: Shit… I didn’t realise it came across like that. I just…. Well, we’ve never been exactly friendly at work. We’re civil and we work well together but it’s not like we’ve ever actually had proper friendly conversations? So if people start seeing us doing that now, I kinda think they’ll ask why. I’m not ashamed that we’re friends now, Reid. It’s just…. It’s kinda hard to explain how we actually got friendly without inciting questions.

Spencer was glad he’d asked. Now she’d put it that way, he understood.

Dr: So we are friends then?

TDQ: Yes! Just friends that unwittingly had a mutual online masturbation session together without realising. Lmao

Dr: Lol. There’s not many friends who can say that I guess.

TDQ: There’s not. So… We good now?

Dr: Sure. Although I’m not sure I’ll ever one hundred percent forgive you for showing Penelope that photo. If I still had your photo, I’d totally be showing Derek in revenge.

TQD: Except he wouldn’t even believe you’d been sent it from a woman. He’d say you downloaded it or some bull shit.

Dr: Annoyingly, you’re right. But still.

Y/N suddenly had a thought…. A bad one. But she didn’t stop herself acting on it.

TQD: Here…. Does this make you feel any better?

Click to see attachment:

Spencer clicked it and his eyes widened. Y/N had send another photo. She was still lying down but her top was pulled up exposing her breasts to him again. The difference was though, you could see her face this time; she was poking her tongue out at the camera, her eyebrows raised suggestively.


Dr: Do you know how hard it is for me to not look at your chest at work already? Jesus Christ, Y/N.

TDQ: No Dr… Really, do tell me how hard it is. As hard as the first time I sent those pictures?

'Oh my God, what are you doing’ was all the was running through Y/N’s head. Yet, she was smirking and enjoying herself thoroughly.

Spencer on the other hand was frantically trying to figure out where she was going and how to respond.

What would Derek do here? He’d just… roll with it, right?

Dr: Not quite as hard. In fact, not really hard at all. I’ve had that image in my head for the while now. I’m used to it.

Lies. All fucking lies. Everytime he thought about it, his dick twitched.

TDQ: Really. Well, I’m extremely tempted to see if I can change that. But before I do, the Vegas rule stands for in here, yes?

The Vegas rule? Huh?

Wait. Spencer typed quickly.

Dr: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas??

TDQ: Yep. Sooo… Whatever we do here, doesn’t cross over into real life. We may know each other but…. Well. I’m not gonna lie, that first time was hot as fuck. And…. I’m stressed and could do with relieving some tension. And you were very helpful on relieving it before.

Spencer felt his pants growing oh so tighter as he remembered back to that first time and thought about what she was saying.

Dr: The Vegas rule stands.

He waited, a good few minutes passing before another attachment flashed up.

Click to see video attachment:

“Dinner all ready, dear? I’ve brought a new tablecloth and napkins––thought ours were a bit shabby. And the wine, of course.” He lifted the bottle in his hand, smiling, then leaned forward to peer at me, and stopped smiling. He looked disapprovingly from my disheveled hair to my blouse, freshly stained with spit-up milk.

“Christ, Claire,” he said. “Couldn’t you fix yourself up a bit? I mean, it’s not as though you have anything else to do, at home all day––couldn’t you take a few minutes for a––”

“No,” I said, quite loudly. I pushed Brianna, who was wailing again with fretful exhaustion, into his arms.

“No,” I said again, and took the wine bottle from his unresisting hand.

“NO!” I shrieked, stamping my foot. I swung the bottle widely, and he dodged, but it was the doorjamb I struck, and purplish splatters of Beaujolais flew across the stoop, leaving glass shards glittering in the light from the entryway. 


Came to this scene in my Voyager reread today and it seemed appropriate for International Women’s Day and the Day without Women Strike. I think Claire’s only regret (and many of ours) is the tragic loss of wine experienced in the exchange. Beyond that, you tell him, Claire. 

To every woman who’s ever had the way they spend their time questioned or judged, be like Claire and don’t be afraid to tell them to go:

Originally posted by sassenach4life

Happy Accident pt. 2 - Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: Part twooooo! Ahhhh I’m so excited for this one.

Request: “Part two for happy accident please!!”, courtesy of a fanbloodytabulous anon.

Summary: You met on the subway, when the train stopped and you accidentally grabbed something other than the pole. Now your friend has decided it’s time for some frientervention.

Warnings: I think there’s a bit of language in this chapter? But yeah, hopefully it shall be pretty mild.

Other Notes: Gender neutral reader! Oh boy, do I love this fandom. Your friend reappears. Part 1 | Part 3

“Siri, open Facebook.”

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Thank you!

Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged my lasted fic, Nesting!! I love you all!

@littlegreenplasticsoldier said:


Good Lord, woman, I love you!

@seenashwrite said:

RE: “… and purchases made at Bed, Bath, & Beyond without a 20% off coupon.”  Now, are you *trying* to lose readers? sweet lord, what were you thinking??? ;)

Well, you know, writing is all about taking risks. LOL!

@scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala said:

I. NEED. A. FREAKING. MINUTE. AFTER. THAT. My brain’s still processing. Angry sex AND dry humping??!! Damn, did you sneak into my wildest dreams??

I’m not usually into angry sex, but I’ve been eye fucking my husband quite hatefully the past few days. He’s sensitive, though, so I decided to take it out on Dean, instead. Dry humping is my favorite kink, though. It seeps into a lot of my fics. *sigh*

@klaineaholic said:

I don’t know why this spoke to me but yes. I am here for this!!!!! Also in fucking love with this spunky reader who doesn’t take shit from Dean.

Spunky Reader for the win!!! Thanks, my dear!

@winchesterprincessbride said:

Those shorts should be illegal!

No no no no no. Don’t make them illegal, then we’ll see them even less than we already do!!! MAKE THEM MANDATORY!!!

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teen--scream  asked:

numbers 21, 32, or 37 from the prompts please? your choice if you want to do one two all three or none of them! thank you!!! ❤️❤️❤️

I’ll start with #37! I hope you don’t mind I made it part of my western au! :D

“Twins? We’re…we’re having twins?!”

[AO3] [More Prompts]

“Good Lord, that poor woman…”

“I’m sure she’s got to be due soon…”

“Does she have any idea how bad it is for her to be walking around like that so far along in the pregnancy?”

April grunted as she walked through the town, her husband only a half step behind her with a gentle hand on her lower back. She was so sick of the people in this town, all of them staring at her like she was some sort of circus act—and yes, she realized how ironic that thought was—as she went about her day to day errands.

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in which harry isn’t paying attention…

Being as ubiquitous as Harry is, he really should pay a fair amount of attention to where he’s going. And, usually he does. He’s almost always on the watch for paparazzi or anyone with a camera, really. But, the fact that it was one of his rare days off (you wouldn’t think it would be so rare seeing as he was on hiatus from his music career, but starting an acting career will do that to a guy), and he hadn’t made any plans, put him in an ease that he hasn’t had for a while.

He was wandering aimlessly through a lowkey section of London whilst messing about on his phone. He knows that he’s not supposed to text and walk at the same time. It’s as much as a hazard as texting and driving (maybe not as much but he could walk in front of a car which is as unappealing as running into someone). So when he suddenly fell forward over someone who was tying their shoe, he was surprised, but he wasn’t. His neck and face burned red as he started spewing out apologies. “’M sorry. ’M sorry. ’M so so sorry. You okay?”

“Not in something, on someone,” she muttered.

“What? Are you okay?” She looked up at him with her hand over her eyes like a sun visor, then went back to tying her shoe.

“The SpongeBob movie. When he was going to work, he stepped on Plankton–. You know what? Never mind. Just watch where you’re going kid,” she said, then stood up and jogged away.

He looked on in a bit of a daze after her, not really sure of what just happened. That was the first time he saw her.


The second time he saw her wasn’t much better than the first. He was in a small boutique when he thought he saw her. Curiosity piqued, he walked up to the window. ‘Maybe she bent down to tie her shoe again,’ he thought. Probably a bit too eager to see someone who he fell on a couple days ago, he crashed through the door, sending it flying into someone’s face.

“Good lord,” the woman he accidentally assaulted cried out.

Again, the apologies spilled out of his mouth. “’M so sorry. Like, ’m so sorry. God, your nose is bleeding come in here.” He pulled her inside the store he just left. They went straight to the counter and the cashier grabbed a first aid kit.

“Are you an assassin?” she asked tilting her head back with tissue


“Has someone got a hit out on me?”

“No. What? I don’t know. You’re supposed to tilt your head forward, though.”

She eyed him wearily, but followed through on the instructions. “So, is it just you who has some sort of personal vendetta against me then?” she asked after a few moments.

“It was an accident, I swear. Both times. I don’t know why–” Harry began but was cut off by someone tapping his leg. He looked down and saw a small girl no older than six years old with a tentative smile and two pigtails and a man he assumed to be her father trailing behind.

“Are you Harry Styles?” she asked.

“I am. And, what your name?” he responded, stooping down to her level.

“Olivia. You wrote a song about me. I told my dad it was you, but he didn’t believe me.”

Harry chuckled at the bright eyed child. “Well, I can’t believe I’m meeting you Olivia. You inspired my song. This must be documented. Can I have a picture with you?” And, if he thought her face was bright before, well, now it was fluorescent as she eagerly nodded.

Olivia’s father pulled out his phone to snap the picture as Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, still stooped down low, and smiled widely. After he shot a few photos, Harry stood back up and shook hands with him. “Thank you so much for doing this. I really appreciate it, and I must admit that after hearing your album a couple hundred times, thanks to this little bugger,” he paused to ruffle his daughter’s hair, “you guys are pretty good, mate.”

He smiled widely once more. “Thanks so much. Have a good day, and take care.”

They walked off in the direction they came from, and Harry turned around to rekindle the conversation he had with the woman he hurt. She, however, wasn’t there. For the second time, she walked out of Harry’s house without a trace.


A few weeks went by, and he hadn’t found her again. Not that he found her the last few times so much as accidentally battered her. He thought about her more than he’d like to admit, and he didn’t understand why. Their first time meeting (not that it was much of a meeting because he still doesn’t know her name) he hadn’t thought about her much past the obscure spongebob reference. The second time, however, she became much more prevalent. He hated the thought that he left a bad impression on someone, especially more than once. Especially on such a pretty girl. Not that she was pretty. Well, not that she wasn’t pretty. Because she was. It just didn’t matter.

He told himself this as he strolled through Tesco with his cart in tow. He made sure that he didn’t act on his impulse to check behind every girl that resembled her from behind. In fact, he was so caught up in making sure that he didn’t make a fool of himself that he made a fool of himself by hitting someone with a cart. It was like some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. He rushed to the floor to help the lady pick up her groceries, whilst apologies began spilling out of his mouth. “I’m so sorry. More than sorry. I–”

“It’s o–” the girl began to cut him off but then she looked up and it was her. “Christ, kid. What is wrong with you? I swear I’m going to get a restraining order on you. Not that it would matter because you never pay attention to anything anyway!”

“I–” Harry started, but he couldn’t find anything to say. He couldn’t believe he found her or she found him (at this point he wasn’t sure and even if he was it wouldn’t matter). It was time to seize the moment. And, for the love of god, find out her name. “What’s your name?”

“Why? So, you can find out where I live and finish me off?”

“What? No. Why do you think I’ve got a hit out on you?”

“My name is Y/N, and because no–”

“’M Harry. And, you could finish that answer now or you could go out on a date with me, and give me the full story…”

Her jaw dropped and her eyes bugged out almost as much as they did when she saw it was him who hit her with a cart. “Why should I do that?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I figure, if I know that you’re coming I won’t hurt you.”

She waged the proposition in her head for a few moments. “Fine. I’m doing this against my better judgement, you know? If I die, I’m coming back and haunting you.”

He chuckled. He may not have been paying attention before, but something tells him he won’t ever forget her.

moxismymuse  asked:

Maybe I'm old for this...or raised correctly but "mostly respecting" is not fully respecting. That's the "sorta, but only when I get called out on why my fake tattoo hubs doesn't acknowledge my presence so his fans forget I exist" type shit. I'm also the type that believes a relationship is 100/100. None of this half assed 50/50. Good lord this woman.