i might even write a fanfic

if you love me LET ME

GOOOOO

Thing is, though, Isak doesn’t trust himself, not really. He fucked up too many things in life, both for himself and for others to be able to trust himself. So, he doesn’t.
Even, though, Even trusts Isak, blindly.
And that… That just feels weird, sometimes.
When Even reaches out in the middle of the night after a nightmare, when he mumbles “please, just hold me” in the curve of Isak’s neck. When Even smiles at Isak, openly, honestly, saying nothing and everything at once. When Even doesn’t push, never pushes, to make Isak talk, and instead just waits and waits until Isak crawls into him and confesses his fears and doubts mumbled into Even’s chest.
Even trusts Isak with his secrets, Even trusts Isak he will tell him what he needs to know.
Isak knows there are things Even hasn’t (yet) told him. But it’s not a lack of trust in Isak, it’s just that, some things are too painful to put in words.
So, Even trusts Isak. Of that, Isak is sure. And it’s weird, and Isak sometimes feels like he doesn’t deserve it, but also… It’s the nicest feeling in the world. It makes him feel whole in a way he has never felt before.
And in the middle of the night, when Even reaches out and draws Isak flush against his body, Isak knows Even is right to trust him. Because Isak loves him, with his entire body and soul, and Isak would protect this boy with everything he has.

My All-Time Top Ten Favourite Fanfics

I’ve thought about doing this list for quite a while now. Let me tell you why. 

Being part of a fandom is, for the most part, quite awesome. However, being a fanfic writer can be quite daunting and discouraging, especially if you don’t get the feedback you’re looking for. As a writer myself, I just want to spread the love and point people towards some amazing, amazing works I’ve loved and have been inspired by since I was a mere thirteen year-old discovering ff.net for the first time. I really, really hope you guys check these stories out. In my humble opinion, they are even better than some original novels that have been published over the years. (*cough* Twilight *cough*) 

At the end of the post, I’ve tagged TEN people here on Tumblr. I hope these people who are tagged will share ten of their all-time favourite fics and tag ten more people, and hopefully, we can keep this whole ‘support for fanfic authors’ thing going for a while yet. Fingers crossed! :) 

Originally posted by applekisses

—-

1. The Life and Times (Harry Potter) by Jewels5 ( @itreallyatemyhand ) - The story of James and Lily’s sixth and seventh year at Hogwarts, and how they fall in love. This fic remains THE fic for me; it is practically canon in my mind.  If you’re a long-time Harry Potter fanfic reader, you’d probably have heard of TLAT. This fic has its own fandom, for God’s sake. (It’s even been mentioned in a Buzzfeed article? Whattt?) But if you haven’t heard of it, START READING IT NOW. I can’t gush enough about how well-plotted and well written this story is. It has inspired my own writing throughout the years and I’ve reread it more than five times. It physically pains me that it might never be finished, but don’t let this stop you from enjoying these 36 chapters. They will make you laugh, they will make you cry, they will make you fall in love, and trust me when I say - you won’t ever be disappointed. I still come back to this story every now and then, and every time, I fall in love with it a little bit more. - Multi-chapter on ff.net

2. The Queen Susan in Tashbaan, Part 2 of the Stone Gryphon (Narnia) by @rthstewart - The Pevensies aiding the British war effort in WWII. If you’re a history lover and a Narnia fan, you MUST read this story. The amount of history woven into this series is simply awe-inspiring. The plot still floors me, even after all these years. And the characters - both the canon ones and the original ones - are written and expanded so beautifully. Not only that, there is a lot of heart to this story and a very real, very palpable sense of bittersweetness to everything. - Multi-chapter on AO3

3. A Sea of Golden Sand (Narnia) by Andi Horton - The events of “The Horse and His Boy” through the perspectives of the Pevensies. This is everything - I repeat - EVERYTHING you’d want from a Golden-Age Narnia fic. This story chronicles the events leading up to the final battle at Anvard, from Rabadash’s visit to Narnia to Aravis and Shasta coming to Archenland. It is incredibly, incredibly well-written, filled with humour, heart, and amazing characters. And although it was published in 2007, most stories in the Narnia fandom don’t even come close to this level of badassery! Edmund, one of my favourite characters ever, is pretty much swoon-worthy in this. I’m legitimately in love with this version of Edmund. - Multi-chapter on ff.net

4. Troubles Melt Like Lemon Drops (Narnia) by Francienyc - The Pevensies navigating life in England after they’re not allowed to go back to Narnia. Lots of sibling bonding in this one, but by God, the simplicity and the subtleness of their pain! It has been years, but I still think of this fic every once in a while, and it still chokes me up a little. - One-shot on ff.net

5. Hung Out to Dry (Narnia) by @rthstewart - Jill/Eustace but with an angsty, heartbreaking twist. Despite how short it is, it is still one of my favourite things I’ve ever read. The aesthetics, the silences, the unrequited love - this story has it all. Every time I read it, I find myself still getting emotional by the simplest of sentences. In short, just exquisite. - One-shot on AO3

6. Fools (Harry Potter) by lyin’ ( @thegirlwholied ) - The First Order of the Phoenix, with the Marauders, the Prewett twins, and Marlene Mckinnon. I remember crying my eyes out the first time I read this story, years and years ago. Yes, there are a ton of First Order fics out there. But please trust me when I say - none of them is quite like this one. This story will undoubtedly shatter you, but in the best of ways. - Multi-chapter on AO3

7. In Their Autumn Beauty (Harry Potter) by lyin’ ( @thegirlwholied ) - The teenagers of the First Order of the Phoenix as seen through the eyes of the much older, much more jaded Dorcas Meadowes. This story is only 2,000 words long, but it has stayed with me for years and years. It is so, so beautiful. Please. Just read it. I beg you. It’ll take you only ten minutes, maybe. You won’t regret it. - One-shot on ff.net

8. Joy in the Mourning (Narnia) by Andi Horton - The Pevensies during the Blitz in London, after they’re not allowed to go back to Narnia. I also remember crying when I first read this. (Yes, there really is a pattern here; I do cry a lot.) This story really captures what the Narnia books are about: finding joy and hope amidst despair. - One-shot on ff.net

9. The Death of Kings (A Song of Ice and Fire) by La Reine Noire  ( @poorshadowspaintedqueens ) - The events leading up to and of Robert’s Rebellion through the perspectives of the Dead Ladies Club, primarily Lyanna Stark, Ashara Dayne, and Elia Martell. Usually, I’m not a fan of fics about Robert’s Rebellion; I find most authors’ take of the events hard to believe and the characters not well fleshed out. This story, however, is EPIC and SO well-written, you’d think it was canon while you’re reading it! I cried buckets at the end, of course. If you’re a fan of the ASOIAF books, definitely give this one a try. - Multi-chapter on AO3

10. Corellian Gin (Rogue One) by guineapiggie ( @ruby-red-inky-blue ) - Jyn/Cassian surviving Scariff, with bits told through the eyes of Bodhi. Of course, I had to squeeze in a Rogue One fic somehow, but I really had a hard time choosing ONE story from my old writing partner, guineapiggie. I nearly chose “The World Through A Scope”“Beinahe”, or something from the series that we wrote together (”Happy Endings”/ “Where’s My Love?”), but I settled on this one instead because it is one of the first Rogue One fics I read that made me tear up. I LOVE a bit of well-written romantic angst, and this story has it in spades. - One-shot on AO3

.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS (because I can’t quite help myself):

Harry Potter - Anything by lyin’ ( @thegirlwholied ), especially Brackets (Sirius/Marlene), Stray Thought (Sirius/Marlene), and the No, Nay, Never series (the First Order of the Phoenix). 

Narnia - Firstly, anything by Andi Horton, especially King’s Champion (Edmund-centric) and The Better Part (Pevensies bonding). Secondly, The Delight of My Eyes (Aravis/Shasta) by Francienyc. And lastly, Rat and Sword Go To War (Pevensies in WWII) by @rthstewart , as well as the rest of her The Stone Gryphon series. 

Rogue One - Resistance is Built On Hope (WWII AU) by ChronicOlicity, Floating, Sinking (fix-it fic) by @shu-of-the-wind, the violet hour (Jyn/Cassian modern au) by caramelle or @mellamymake, the road that sets into the sun (a beautiful Jyn/Cassian in the SW Legends-verse) by lyin’ ( @thegirlwholied ), and all the angsty Jyn/Cassian stories by guineapiggie ( @ruby-red-inky-blue ). 

Originally posted by jpaddey

TAGS: Now, to join me in this venture of spreading fanfic love (yes, I’m perfectly aware of how weird that sounds), I’d like to invite these ten awesome individuals who I have interacted with here or on AO3: @ruby-red-inky-blue, @operaticspacetrash, @yavemiel, @rxbxlcaptain, @rapha-senna, @thenewleeland, @pingou7, @jeroncassianandor, @lclrgsl and @rebelcaptainfics. And don’t worry! You guys don’t have to write these long reviews for each of your recommendation like I did; I was simply bored and overzealous! :) 

If you’re not tagged, but have seen this on your dash and want to jump in on the action, please feel free to make your own list and tag ten more people. Let’s show appreciation for fanfic writers who put so much work and time into writing these stories we love so much! <3 

#harrypottersummer is back!

Welcome to harrypottersummer 2017! It’s happening! You get a reread! And you get a reread! Everybody gets a reread! 

So, without further ado -

Cancel all your plans for the summer. We’re rereading Harry Potter.


What’s harrypottersummer?

It’s the most beautiful time of year, aka the time where Potterheads get to reread the entire Harry Potter series over the course of one summer - together! harrypottersummer was created last year, everyone who joined in had a blast, so this is round two and the whole thing is on a very good path to become an annual event.


How does it work?

Starting on June 16th, everyone who cares to join will start reading the Harry Potter series all over, first book to last, whilst sharing but their reading progress as well as headcanons, fanart, fanfics, edits, theories, anecdotes and literally anything else you can think of, on any social media platform you can think of using the hashtag #harrypottersummer. Done!


What’s this year’s schedule?

Last year, we went for a book per week, which was nice for those of us who were stuck with little to no wifi for the bigger part of the reread (-points to self-), but was stressful for busier folks. This year, only the first three books will be getting a week each, and every book from Goblet of Fire onward will be getting two! Yay!

  • June 16th - June 22nd 2017: Philosopher’s Stone Week
  • June 23rd - June 29th 2017: Chamber of Secrets Week
  • June 30th - July 6th 2017: Prisoner of Azkaban Week
  • July 7th - July 20th 2017: Goblet of Fire Week
  • July 21st - August 3rd 2017: Order of the Phoenix Week
  • August 4th - August 17th 2017: Half-Blood Prince Week
  • August 18th - August 31st 2017: Deathly Hallows Week
  • September 1st 2017: MEETUP AT KING’S CROSS STATION, LONDON


Wait, whaat? Meetup???

Well, yes meetup, assuming it all works out as planned! In honour of September 1st, 2017 also being Epilogue Day, anyone who happens to be in London that day is more than welcome to stop by at King’s Cross station to come and wave our childhood goodbye one last time. Are you ready? I’m not ready. Nope.

Make sure you check this blog for updates on the meetup, as more details will hopefully be available soon. For now, just know that I’ll be there, @ronaldswheezy will be there, come say hi and have a chat and take selfies and get emotional over our childhood. Why not. Might be fun.


How do I participate?

  • Grab your Harry Potter books, cancel your life, and start rereading.
  • Spread your progress like wildfire. This includes any form of social media you choose to participate in. Tumblr! Snapchat! Instagram! YouTube! Twitter! All the things!
  • Get creative. Write fanfics. Make fanart. Make edits. Make playlists. Start cosplaying. Write a song. Build your own Lego Hogwarts. Nothing is off limits.
  • And finally, tag absolutely EVERYTHING with #harrypottersummer. Everything. Even if it’s just a 4am text post that goes ‘do dementors poop?’.


If you’ve got any more questions, the ask box is open! A calendar page with the schedule and an FAQ face and other things are coming up too, as soon as I get around to setting them all up. If you want to message me on my main blog, you find me @stuckwith-harry

Happy harrypottersummer! <3

anonymous asked:

Since you're offering advice: What do you suggest to those of us for whom it is natural and automatic to leave "evaluating" comments? Lately I have erred on the side of simply saying nothing at all, though I feel there must be a happy medium. We are trained all through school to evaluate writing. The first fic site I was ever part of welcomed concrit. I love receiving concrit. I don't agree that it's universal bad etiquette to leave critique. Of course rude and entitled comments are bad. ???

I think it’s just a matter of changing your mindset to accommodate for the situation. You mentioned that in school, you were trained to evaluate writing– was this a writing school where both parties were offering up something to be critiqued and improved? That’s the first difference with fanfic– obviously there are a lot of writers that communicate with one another, but overall there are much more readers than there are writers. Therefore, it’s not equal to offer critique because you are not putting yourself in an equally vulnerable position with that other person. Yes, you love concrit but there’s no like… partnership. Is this making sense? Like I’ve been in writing classes before and in those, you do get to know and trust the people who are giving you concrit. And, you knew that one week they would be critiquing you, and the next you would be offering them suggestions. There was an equal vulnerability and an shared interest in improving.

This isn’t the experience of fandom. You don’t have that trust and partnership that is created in a writing club or school or smaller FF community. And, most importantly, some people honest-to-god aren’t looking to improve their writing. They’re just here to have a good time. Obviously, everyone improves naturally over time, but they aren’t looking for suggestions. They’re just sharing. 

I always like to think of fanfic in terms of cooking for people (i’ve made this analogy before but it works here too). If you were eating at a friend’s house and they asked, “Did you think there was enough salt in the sauce”, then by all means you would feel comfortable answering. Or if it was a good friend, you might even be comfortable saying “This is lovely– I think it would be even better with more mushrooms!” However, you would not go to a relative strangers house, eat their food, and then offer advice. Especially if you knew you would never see this person and they didn’t ask for it. It’s more polite to just keep it at “This is delicious, thank you so much for cooking!” (The best food is free food. Never complain about free food.)

In terms of curbing your natural response to leave concrit rather than just nice comments: In my writing class, I always learned to start with a few positive things before moving on to improvements they can make. So, leaving a positive comment means just cutting out that second half. Leave all those specific, positive good parts. There is nothing better than comments like “I loved your characterization of XX, It was lovely to see the depth in that character” or “Your writing was lyrical and detailed- I felt I could really see the scene unfold!” or “Omgg the line “INSERT LINE HERE” made me smile!” – All the skills of concrit are awesome when applied to positive comments. Just leave out the second half!

You’re right: It’s not universal bad etiquette to leave constructive criticism on a piece of writing. However, it is fandom bad etiquette to leave it on a fic where the author has not asked for it.

If you do love giving and recieving concrit, there are options! First and foremost, say that you welcome concrit in the notes of your fic so you can continue to receive it. In terms of giving it, offer to beta for people! This is the stage of writing when people want and need all the editing skills you have gained in school or elsewhere!

Thanks for the question– I hope this helped you understand where fic authors are coming from and some alternative ways for you to enjoy your fandom experience!

Why It's Bad Fandom Etiquette To Put Other People's Fics On Goodreads

Obligatory disclaimer: I don’t speak for every fanwriter in fandom, but I do know for a fact that I speak for several of them.

Books and fics exist in different contexts. Fandom has its whole other set of tropes, conventions, and expectations. Some tropes and conventions are common across different fandoms, but often individual fandoms have their own conventions and things that are only recognisable to the reader within the frames of that particular fandom.

As a fandom writer, we write for the fans within our little corner of the internet. We write based on their expectations, we interact with tropes and ideas from other fics we’ve read. Fanfic is a conversation between fans of a source, and are often products of each other. Taking fanfic out of its context doesn’t work - people not familiar with those fandom codes won’t get it.

Books are commercial products that are written over long periods of time, and have gone through many rounds of editing. That is not to say that all books are good, or that a lot of fanfic isn’t actually better than some published books because they certainly are. But books are longterm projects, and fics are definitely not always that.

We write comment fics for our friends because they were screaming about that new headcanon they have. We spend a single week writing a pinch hit for a fest because someone dropped out and we want people to have a gift. We write while on a sugar and feelings-induced high at 3 AM because that gif set on tumblr sent us into an emotional crisis.

And that’s the fun of fandom. As a fanwriter, that’s what I love. I don’t publish books, because that’s not what I want, at least not at this point in time. I want to have fun with my fandom friends and contribute to the fandoms I love with both more and less thought-out fics.

Do you know the best way to take away that fun? Take my fics and put them alongside published books on goodreads and rate them from 1 to 5. Because, suddenly, my fics all potentially have to hold up next to published books on a site that isn’t made in the context of fanfic. It doesn’t matter if my fics are rated 1 or 5 - it’s the pressure of it. It’s the knowledge that even the silliest comment fic I might write and put on AO3 will suddenly be put on goodreads and judged along with books that people have spent months or years writing.

If you want to put fics on goodreads - ask. Don’t put fanwriters in that position, because it’s also really difficult to get them removed.

anonymous asked:

Number 3 brotzly?

Your wish is my command! <3


Todd never thought he’d actually start to miss the sound of Dirk’s voice. Usually the guy would just let his never-ending stream of consciousness spill out of his mouth in real-time, so keeping up was a daily Olympic-level endurance event.

But it had been half an hour since Dirk had so much as mumbled to himself. He wasn’t even singing along to the radio- and Todd had switched it over to his favourite crappy pop station, so something was definitely up.

Problem was he knew exactly what was up. But since it was mostly his fault, he wasn’t super anxious to bring it up.

But Dirk had gone from just staring out the rain-specked side window to angrily flicking it, so…

“Look,” said Todd, shoulders hunching in discomfort. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, okay?”

Dirk made a non-committal sound of acknowledgement. Shit, he was really mad. He flicked the window again, watching a raindrop on the other side of the glass jiggle and roll down rather than looking at Todd’s face.

Todd sighed, clenching the wheel a little tighter. “I know you’re pissed at me and, yeah, okay, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, but…” he shrugged irritably. “Look, it’s been a long day, we’re both tired, let’s just call it and start over in the morning, okay?”

The car fell into tense silence again, and Todd kind figured that would be the end of that until Dirk shook his head and straightened up from his moody slouch.

“No,” he said, with a slight shake of his head. “No, we should sort this out now. I read in a magazine that you should never go to bed angry.” It would have sounded a lot wiser if Todd wasn’t 90% sure the magazine in question was Cosmo. “So we need to… de-escalate the situation. And quickly- I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted, I’ll conk out in minutes when we get home.”

“Okay, so… how do we do that?”

“We could…” Dirk frowned, stumped. “…Tell jokes?”

“You should be a marriage counsellor.”

“Excellent energy, Todd, but I think jokes at each other’s expense might be counterproductive.”

“Damn. There goes most of my material.”

Dirk rolled his eyes. “Really, Todd? Two in a row?”

“Come on, you walked right into it.”

“Oh, you mean like you walked right into that glass door last week?”

“…Dirk, that was you.”

“Damn. Hoped you wouldn’t remember.”

Todd snorted. And then he giggled. And then he gave in and full-on laughed, shoulders shaking.

And a few seconds later, so did Dirk.

Okay. Maybe Cosmo knew its shit sometimes.

A knock sounded on the door. Wade Wilson was on his feet and pirouetted his way to the door in a matter of seconds, flinging it wide open.

“Thank Thor (or Loki)! I was about to starve!

The kid at the door looked on, vaguely unimpressed at Wade’s antics. “Are you the mister Pool comma Dead who ordered a large, uh… pineapple olive, large anchovy mushroom, and large special order of four cheese with… mozzarella sticks as the topping?” he recited the order in a bored drawl, but there was a hint of judgement in his tone. So Wade liked his pizzas with a bit of zest and creativity. Was it a crime? Part of Wade hoped it was, how thrilling would it be to live on the run from the cops for daring to order a pizza outside the conventional system? It would make a great movie! He should write it, he could make millions-

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Pizza kid said, clearing his throat loudly. “If you could maybe pay for these, I gotta get going.” He shifted the pizzas in his grip with a peeved look on his face.

Okay, rude. It’s not like Wade had made him stand there for… Wade checked his watch. Oh. Nearly five minutes. Okay, maybe he’d been dissociating a bit longer than he realized. “My bad,” Wade said, reaching for his wallet, “what do I owe ya for, pretty boy?”

Keep reading

Dinner with the Whitethorns

Guys. I wrote fanfiction.
So I remember that scene in Queen of Shadows where Aelin says she’d like to see 16 year old Aelin meet 16 year old Rowan. And so would I, so I figured I’d write something quick.
This is my first fanfic ever so go easy on my writing!!

“I’d rather give up chocolate for a year than have this dinner,” said 16 year old Aelin as she slumped onto her bed like a sack of potatoes.

Her mother frowned disapprovingly by her door. “It’s only one evening, Fireheart, and besides, you might like the Whitethorns.”

She sighed in exasperation. “No, they’re boring entitled idiots.”

“Aelin, you need to grow up. Perhaps you should start by being the sweet, kind, respectful princess of Terrasen for a few hours tonight.”

“But—”

“No buts, you’re coming to this dinner, or no books or chocolates for a month.”

Aelin groaned into her pillow as her mother left, shutting the door behind her.

End of conversation.


~~~~~~~~~

The time came to sit through the three course meal with boring family “friends”, and so Aelin, being the rebel princess she was, decided she may as well make an appearance. Her way, of course.

The doorbell rang just as Aelin added the finishing touches to her makeup.

Her mother’s footsteps sounded as she walked to open the door, her voice coming from downstairs, “Aelin! The guests are here!”

“Coming!” She yelled back.

She checked herself in the mirror one last time, making sure that every hair was in place, and that there were no wrinkles in her dress. She smiled at herself with the smile she used whenever it was time to have some fun. With cunning and mischief and the slightest hint of a smirk.

Indeed. Perhaps her mother was right. She was going to enjoy this dinner.

Greetings halted and jaws dropped as she walked down the curved staircase.

Her mother’s gawk sounded across the room, the Whitethorn family beside her. An older woman with shining silver hair, a man with bright green eyes and a boy around her age who was a mixture of both all froze as they watched her.

The sight of them made her raise her chin higher and smile wider.

She made sure to add the slightest swish of her hips as she stepped down the staircase in her skintight, deep red dress that matched her lips. It wasn’t by all means short, but it clung to every curve, just as she intended. Her hair was curled messily—she didn’t like the perfect goldy-lock look. She lined her eyes with some brown khol and smudged it out the slightest bit, but besides that, that’s all she did to her face.

And it must’ve been all she needed, because the hungry look in the boy’s green eyes told her that she was going to have some fun tonight.

Her mother took a moment to gather herself, shooting her daughter a look promising that she was in trouble.

She cleared her throat. “Please–let me introduce you to my daughter—”

“Aelin,” she interrupted. “Princess Aelin Ashyver Galathynius, pleasure to meet you,” she greeted sweetly and smiled.

Mr. and Mrs. Whithorn stared at her, perplexed. The son however, managed to recover and looked her in the eyes and spoke, “Rowan. Prince Rowan Whitethorn.”

Aelin held out her hand so that Rowan could kiss it, the entire time, his pine green eyes never leaving hers.

It was the best dinner she’d ever had.

“Why are you guys still like this?” Might be my favorite negative comment on an IR piece ever because it reveals so much of the general IH frustration with our fandom and I LOVE it

Why are you guys still like this? Why do you still make good content? Why are famous tumblr artists still doing shit for you? Why are your fanfic writers still writing prolifically? Why do you continue to own this whole fandom even though you weren’t canon?

Idk, because we’re not petty and we get shit done instead of commenting on every notp post in existence?

5

Anon ~  Bts reaction to you being scared of a little spider ( 1 / 7 ) 

I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been having a lot of basketball games, and I’ve also be writing a fanfic that I might not even post so yeah there’s that :D 

 Hope you enjoyed this post and don’t forget. Requests are always open 

lunenn  asked:

I'm not sure if you're taking prompts but what if Scully gave up William with a photo of them together? T.T you would write that so well!

I’m always beside myself with joy when I get prompts. So yes, I take them :D Thank you so, so much for this one. It might not be what you probably wanted, but I hope you like it anyway. 

“It’s you.”

Dana Scully has imagined this moment a million times: meeting her son. She has imagined it even before she gave him up. Before she gave up. Find me, she had pleaded silently with the boy, whose curious eyes were a mirror of her own. Instead he had thrown her a toothless grin, kicked his tiny feet at her, and grabbed for her hair. Her son, then, was not a mind-reader. There was nothing special about him except that he was her son, her own flesh and blood, conceived against all odds; a miracle in its purest form.

She has imagined this. She has dreamed about it when he was two years old and young enough to forgive her. She has imagined it when he was six years old and melancholy propelled her thoughts forward; guilt and a sense of having done right by him preventing her from doing the unthinkable. She’s craved it when he was 12 years old and nothing made sense anymore. Her reasons for giving him up nothing more than smoky clouds, burnt ashes in their enemy’s ashtray. This, now, is not how she imagined it.

“It’s you.” The boy with the same curious eyes repeats. His voice wavers now, for a short moment, as if uncertain. He cannot know her, Scully thinks. There is no reason, no logic in it, and she can’t find the words to tell him this or anything else. His lips pout in the same way his father’s do. His eyebrows furrow in the same way hers do, she has to admit. It’s logical that she recognizes him; his features are her own, are Mulder’s. The boy, without taking his eyes off her, hunts through his pockets and produces a crumpled up, slightly torn piece of paper. He unfolds it, carefully, and Scully gasps. It’s not a piece of paper; it’s a photograph.

“That’s you.” William smiles at her, softly.

“It’s me.” Scully croaks out as she instinctively reaches out for the picture. She had put the picture inside his small bag back then without thinking about it. She figured his new mother would tear it up, throw it away. Scully, even then, knew that sending the photo of her holding a tiny William with him was a risk. A risk, however, that she just had to take. She had wanted his new mother to know, to see, that she, too, had loved William. Never had she dared to hope that William would even see it.

“Hi,” her son, who is already taller than her, surprises her again by reaching out his hand, “it’s nice to finally meet you.” Scully’s hand hovers for a moment before the boy grabs it, shakes it heartily. His smile turns into a full blown grin. Mulder. It’s Mulder written all over his face and reminding her, bitterly, why she’s here. Why she broke the promise she made to herself, to this child, to stay away from him.

“William,” his name feels strange on her tongue; usually she thinks it, mumbles it in her sleep, and when she uses it, it’s not to address him. He eyes her, ever curious, and waits. He knows. He can’t possibly know or understand, and yet he does. “I’m here because… I didn’t want to disturb – to change,” Scully sighs; angry at herself for being here, for not finding the words. She’s furious that this child, her baby, is a stranger. A stranger who shares her blood and who is her only chance to save Mulder.

“You need my help, don’t you? Is it because,” this time he pauses, looks at the faded picture of himself and a mother he never knew. Scully wonders what he sees, what he feels, when he looks at it,“ my father. Is it because of him? He’s not in this picture.” William holds it up as if she didn’t know. She had her mother take that photograph so she could send it to Mulder. Except he didn’t have an address. She decided to keep it until he came home. He just never did.

“Yes, he's… he’s very sick. I- where are your parents? I need to-”

“There is no one.” William tells her evenly. She stares at him. At this boy, who clutches a picture she gave him once, a lifetime ago.

“What do you mean there is no one? Where are your parents?” She hates this word, she realizes, as her eyes find the picture in his hand again.

“My parents… got divorced when I was young. Father died a few years after that. My mother… she wasn’t well,” he pauses and shuffles his feet, “my aunt and I decided to put her in a nursing home.”

“You- you’re all on your own out here?” William nods as if it’s nothing. It’s his reality and the only thing he knows.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” he chuckles, running a hand through his auburn hair before he glances at her, “but I knew you’d come back one day. I just knew it. You could say I had a hunch.” Shivers run down Scully’s arms, down her back. She can see Mulder grin; wants to introduce him to their son, who is so much like him, full of hope and ideas.

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” she breathes out and William grants her another smile that lights up his whole face. She hopes he’ll never stop. She doesn’t deserve this, she thinks, but she doesn’t want it to end. “I know someone who… who is just like that. Like you.” She finds herself smiling at the boy; her boy. “I’d love for you to meet him.”

“Then let’s go- you never even told me your name.”

“Dana. Dana Scully.” She thinks how strange it is to introduce herself to her son, but he nods at her. He lifts the picture and examines it closely; his eyes drifting from the frozen image of them and the real her in front of him. He mouths her name, trying it out, before he nods again.

“Let’s go, Dana.” He says, closing the door behind him and walking towards her.

“You don’t need to pack anything? Tell anyone? Your aunt? I understand if you want to see your mother, William. If you want to see her. I don’t know when we’ll be back. We have… time.” They don’t, really.

“I have everything I need right here with me.” William assures her, putting the picture back into his pocket. Then he stops suddenly, his eyes dark, his brows furrowed.

“What is it? Did you forget anything?”

“No, I… are we going on a plane?” Scully nods carefully.

“I’ve never… I mean once. I’ve flown once or maybe twice. It kind of scares me,” Scully is trying to come up with something. Assure him that flying is, statistically speaking, the safest form of travel. She could explain just how flying works. Before she can say another word, though, William starts speaking again,

“Could I… on the plane… could I hold your hand maybe?” He blushes a deep red.

“Oh! Of course,” Scully assures him with a nervous laugh, “Of course, you can William.” And his whole, lanky body relaxes.

“Why don’t we… practice?” Scully says, blushing herself now; this is another risk she is taking. Like the picture she left with him all these years ago. It might not turn out the way she wants it to. But she has to try. She just has to. She reaches out her hand to him, leaves the decision to him. He stays quiet this time and she is ready to take it back, to just go on with him in tow, without touching him. But William takes her hand and together they walk towards her car.

This is not how she imagined it. It’s not at all like the dreams she’s had.

But this time it’s real.

As Long As You’re Mine

Pairing: Daveed x Reader

Summary: Reader is taking the part of Elphaba in Wicked on Broadway alongside Aaron Tveit as Fiyero and Libby Servais as Glinda. Daveed is her boyfriend and gets jealous of the relationship that the reader and Aaron share on and off stage.

Note: Well,I’m back at it whether you like it or not. Thanks so much for the feedback on Lost in You. I pumped out this fic for y’all mostly based on the fact that I’m extreme trash for Wicked, Daveed, and Aaron so this was birthed from that. Thanks to those nearest and dearest to my heart, @strongenoughfoundation, @literallylin, and @linslovelylocks for listening to my rambles about my idea for this. I hope you all enjoy! As usual feedback is appreciated.


“Looking a little sick, aren’t you? It’s almost showtime!”

     Glancing in the mirror, all you saw was green. Your face, your neck, your hands. All green. And for a pretty good reason: you were finally going to be whom almost every actress longs to be: Elphaba Thropp, the leading lady in Wicked. You’ve been working for this role ever since you got the chance to see Idina originated the role back in ‘03.

    “Very funny, Lin. Truly. I haven’t heard that one before.” Lin Manuel Miranda. The man was a genius. The two of you met back in 2006 when you were fresh out of high school and he was working on Heights at an acting seminar in the city. You never lost contact and became fast friends despite the age difference. Eventually you befriended his wife Vanessa and the two of you meet every Saturday for a little shopping trip.

     “I’m just kidding, (Y/N). I’m proud of you. You’ve come all this way from that little 18 year old dreamer. Look how well you did in Hamilton.”

 Yes, it’s true. Everyone’s other dream: to be in the new hit musical. As a part of the original cast ensemble, you got to sing and dance onstage every night beside your closest friends. You and Jasmine became almost attached at the hip as soon as rehearsals began. When she and Anthony began dating, the two of you became close as well. Let’s not forget the most important relationship: You and Daveed. The two of you had been crushing on each other and flirting since the beginning. “If you don’t snatch him up soon, I will.” Jasmine used to tease you. “Jaz, you have a boyfriend!” You would reply. He finally gathered up the courage to ask you out last summer and the two of you have been going strong ever since. Even after almost a year, the two of you were still on cloud nine.

“C’mon Lin, don’t tease the poor girl. Can’t you seen she’s nervous?” Daveed said, walking into your dressing room with a smirk on his face.

“Baby, I’m not nervous. Just, well, okay maybe I am a bit nervous. I mean who wouldn’t be. Playing Elphie is an honor.” You replied shakingly.

“I have full confidence in you, (Y/N/N). You’re going to go out on that stage and kill it. Defy gravity. No pun intended.” Daveed affirmed, embracing you in his arms, careful not to smudge any green.

“I second that!” Lin piped in, “Or V and I wouldn’t have flown all the way from London to see you. You’re gonna do amazing out there.”

“(Y/N)! Get in your place. It’s almost time!. Good Luck!” the stagehand, Ralph, called from outside the door.

“Oh, God I think I’m going to be sick!” You cried, pacing back and forth running your hands along your face.

“Well, geez, you do look a little gree-” “Seriously, Lin?” “Sorry. Good luck, I know you’ll do amazing out there. Show em’ what you’re made of!” He said, running out of the room heading to his seat.

“Hey, Look at me.” Daveed said softly, grabbing your arm pulling you closer to him. Glancing up at him through your eyelashes, you began to listen to what he had to say.

“You’re going to get on that stage, give the best performance of your life, and make the audience go wild at the finale. You’ve worked so hard for this role and you deserve it without a doubt.” With the way he looked right into your eyes, you knew what he said was sincere.

“God dammit, D, you’re gonna make me cry. I can’t have this damn paint smudge!” You answered with a giggle.

“Well, you know me always making the ladies cry.” He winked at you, pointing with finger guns.

“Finger guns, really?” You said with crossed arms and a smile on your face.

“Oh come on you know you love em’!” Daveed said on his way out of the room. While he was walking out, another just happened to walk in.

“Aaron!” You exclaimed. Aaron Tveit. The man of everyone’s dreams. Tall build, blonde hair, gleaming eyes, and a killer smile. As the two of you began to talk, you didn’t notice the slight scowl on your boyfriends face as he left the room.

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imagine how the world would be, so very fine, skam, isak/even.


isak finds a little drawing pinned on the back of his bedroom door. it’s a penguin, about the size of his thumb, with a little speech bubble saying, ice, ice, baby. he finds a lion in the hallway asking him, can you feel the love tonight? and a daschund in a top hat on the fridge. who let the dogs out?

eskild finds isak squinting at it as he stumbles into the kitchen, and snorts. “there’s a bird in the bathroom.”

“what’s it say?”

“got wings, but you can’t fly away from me.”

isak smiles. “nas.”

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Rabbit Hole

Dean starts being honest with Sam when Sam is asleep and it turns into a habit.

“You remember,” Dean begins conversationally, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, “when we were young and dad was the one driving? I was never any good at sleeping in the car but as soon as we hit the road, you’d drop off right away against my shoulder in the backseat.

I remember that one winter — you must have been eight or nine… The heating didn’t work and we wrapped ourselves into that god-awful excuse of a blanket. It was so scratchy and stiff and literally did nothing to keep us warm, and you still managed to sleep like a dead person.”

He pauses, glancing over at his brother’s sleeping form. Curled into himself, his breath fogging up the window where he’s got the side of his face pressed against it, he makes the occasional sleep noise and barely even stirs when the car hits a pothole on the uneven road.

Dean can’t stop the smile that’s tugging at his mouth from growing wider so he doesn’t try, giving in to it instead.

It’s too easy to lull himself into a false sense of security. Even if the world is studiously headed for damnation, in these quiet moments, nighttime on the road, nothing to keep Dean company but the engine and his brother’s breathing, it’s easy to have hope. Hope that everything is going to work out after all in the end.

Dean doesn’t believe in fairy tale endings.

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make fic commissions A Thing 20K17

I really really want to see fanfic commissions become more of A Thing .  It’s absolutely something I’d pay for, and something that should most certainly be as common as fanart commissions. 

I can see it being mutually beneficial in more ways then one.

 The commissioner gets to read the idea that they really want to see happen . How many times have you come up with a something and been like, man I wish someone would write this??

 The writer gets paid for their work, but it could also help them creatively if ever they were in a rut. Plus they have a guaranteed audience. even if it’s just one person, sometimes that’s all you need to get going. 

 So any writers out there who might be reading this: consider it. you are good enough. 

Lie

request: 91x78 pls!

hello loves! this might actually be my favorite thing i’ve written, simply because i live for this shit. anyways, keep sending in requests from this writing list or whatever you want! hope you enjoy!


Harry Styles. Even the name made you want to throw up. Anytime you were in a room with him, he treated you like shit. He would interrupt you, tell you to shut up, he even one time left the room as soon as you walked in. You both had the same friends, so were constantly around one another. He was the sweetest person ever, to other people. It really broke your heart, considering you had the biggest crush on him. 

When you both first met through his percussionist, Clare, he was polite. You didn’t have that much conversation with him that night, but you liked everything about him. His laughter was infectious, he was a careful listener, and was probably the most handsome man you had ever seen. When you hung out again with Alex and Clare, he became snippy.

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Prince Adam Headcanons

Yeah I just physically couldn’t. stop. myself…

Word Count: um…a lot. I might as well take out the dots and make it an imagine bc LOL I GOT A LIL CARRIED AWAY HERE

A/N: yes, I’m still working on my Gaston series, but while I’m writing that, here *dumps fanfic in ur lap* have these post-curse headcanons that I thought up at 4:00am of the purest most adorably precious cinnamon roll prince ever

Originally posted by imanewrevival


  •  Prince Adam still literally unable to wrap his mind around the fact, even weeks after the curse is broken, that someone could find it in them to love him in his darkest and most hopeless of times
  •   Adam, not surprisingly, suffering from post-curse nightmares. He’ll dream that he’s once again the vain, cruel prince who turned away the rose, and wake with hands clutching at his chest and face to make sure that they’re not animalistic and covered with fur again
  •  on nights when the dreams are particularly bad, he’ll wake you and you’ll stay up till dawn comforting him, his head on your chest or in your lap while you whisper soothing words and brush your hand through his hair
  • sometimes you’ll snuggle into him and place your cheek on his shoulder, bringing your fingers up to his face and tracing his cheekbones, his eyebrows, and his jawline with soft strokes to remind him that his features are human again, and always will be
  • Adam catches your hand and gently presses his lips against your fingertips, his eyes closing and his forehead furrowing before kissing your palm. When his eyelids open, his gaze locks on yours and you almost can’t breathe for the amount of love in his stunning blue irises that shine like moonbeams
  • eventually lulling him back to sleep by singing or reading softly, admiring the peacefulness of his expression as he dozes, marveling at how truly lucky you are to love someone so beautiful and pure and to have his love in return
  • having literally the most perfect and healthy relationship ever. Seriously, the two of you are the stuff of romance novels (the happy ones that aren’t all dramatic and angsty). You can practically read each others’ minds, which really comes in handy when trying to find each other new books to read. You know everything about each other. How you like your tea, what position you find most comfortable to sleep in, your favorite author, your favorite composer, even what things you find annoying or frustrating
  • One more time now: RELATIONSHIP GOALS
  • being able to match Adam’s mischievous side with your own. Don’t get me started on snowball fights during the winter seasons which always leave you soaked to the bone (much to Mrs. Potts’ amused dismay when you leave puddles through the halls and on the stairs) and grinning like idiots. Mud fights are frequent during the summer as well (poor Mrs. Potts indeed). You never miss a chance to enjoy the fresh scent of rain after a summer storm, so you head out with Adam to enjoy the dewy gardens…then come back looking like you bathed in a swamp
  • just. imagine. tho. You’ll be sitting on a bench glossing over a book, or breathing in the crisp warm air when all the sudden you glance up and see Adam looking at you from a few feet away, his lips upturned in a smirk and his gaze peering through his eyelashes. He slowly brings one hand around from behind his back and you see a ball of sticky brown mud oozing between his fingers. You barely have time to growl, “Don’t you even think about it.” before it smacks you in the face, instantly dribbling down your neck and shoulders. Adam’s deep laugh bounces off the statues before it’s cut off by the sound of mud splattering against the back of his head. Total chaos ensues, and the cleaning staff shares a collective sigh as the sound of hysterical laughter from the gardens meets their ears
  • fervent apologizing on both your parts to the gardeners afterwards
  • kisses. Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the camel, the k i s s e s. Kisses that stop time. Kisses that make the ground spin under your feet, or sometimes even make the ground disappear completely. Standing with your toes touching as Adam brings both hands to the sides of your face, dips his head and kisses you with such deep, slow passion that you forget who’s air you’re breathing, or you forget to breathe entirely. Gathering the fabric of his shirt in your hands and standing on your toes to be even closer to him. He brushes his thumbs across your cheeks, and when you finally break apart, you can’t move or draw oxygen for several seconds after. In these moments, if he were to ask you the sum of 2 + 2, you would only be able to answer with his name
  • waking up to feeling the feather-light touch of his lips against the side of your neck, along your jaw and on your cheek, unable to conceal the shudders that ripple along your skin or the butterflies that fluster uncontrollably around your stomach. Feeling him smile against your shoulder when he runs his hand along your arm and feels the goosebumps that his actions have caused, asking in a deep, husky morning voice if you’re cold or if there’s some other reason for the reaction. You sit up and stuff a pillow in his face
  • he’s not the only one who uses affection to rouse the other from sleep. Before the break of dawn, you’ll wrap your arm around his torso and lightly trail kisses across his features. On each of his closed eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, the corner of is mouth until the arm that he has around your shoulders tightens and pulls you against him, his lips spreading in a drowsy smile. After he’s awakened, you wrap yourself in blankets and lead him by the hand through the silent castle until you reach the tallest tower. There you stand in his arms, his lips pressed to the top of your head as the two of you watch the sun rise over the distant hills and flood the skies with pale pink light
  • spontaneous dances. This is 100% a thing. Imagine standing in the library at one of the tables, alphabetizing a stack of volumes when Adam’s arms wind around your waist and his firm chest presses to your back. “Do you hear that?” he’ll ask softly, prompting you to grin as you hear Cadenza’s playing a few rooms away. Before you know it your swaying to the sweet rhythm, then Adam’s twirling you across the floor, lifting you into effortless spins and dipping you nearly to the floor, making laughter flow from your lips
  • making faces at each other from across the diner table
  • holding balls and dances at least once a month to stay connected with the rest of Villenueve, and even though Adam is supposed to be socializing, he can’t help staring at you practically the entire night
  • Plumette helping you get ready for said parties, lacing up your dress and fastening back rebellious strands of hair when Adam appears in the doorway, his eyes widening in loving disbelief at your astounding beauty, which of course makes your face turn the color of a ripe pomegranate. Plumette smiles, her hands on your shoulders as she says, “Isn’t she a vision, my prince?” Adam’s shakes himself from his stupor and responds, “One almost too beautiful to behold.”
  • your face reddens ten shades
  • pet names. And lots of them, though mainly “love” and “my darling”

      • “(Y/N), I’m not wearing that.”  

      “Oh come on, it’ll look wonderful.”

      “It will look ridiculous.”

     “But Lumiere looks so dashing in them, I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”

      “(Y/N), it’s got bloody bows in it.”

     “It makes it look more fashionable. Now just try it on!”

     “I’d rather be a beast again.”

     “Oh honestly, it’s just a wig.”

     “Take one more step and I’ll throw that thing in the fire.”

  • the staff of the castle may as well be payed family members. Plumette is of course your best friend, Adam’s being Lumiere. Mrs. Potts is a second mother to you, and Cogsworth is always overjoyed to play the part of the father figure. Maestro Cadenza and Madame Garderobe took you under their musical wings as soon as the curse was broken, and you can never go through a conversation with either of them without being called “my dear” or “darling” at least five times. Your closest bond however is with Chip, and often you’ll glimpse Adam sitting with the young boy on his lap as well, exploring the surface of an atlas or looking at old maps
  • Adam being brilliant with children, despite thinking that he’s not. Sometimes he’ll watch you interacting with Chip and find himself wondering what it would be like to start a family of your own someday, not noticing the soft smile that graces his lips at the thought of it
  • going on adventures together. Not major ones necessarily, but even small journeys through the nearby mountains and forests are enough to mostly quench your wanderlust. You’ll often drag him to the top of a hill that overlooks Villeneuve and the surrounding countryside, standing with hands linked as the wind rushes over you
  • returning from such journeys to the warm castle, Mrs. Potts setting out tea by the fireplace, and you curling up against Adam by the huge marble hearth, practically on his lap with your face buried in his thick, smooth hair. Your fingers absentmindedly play with the laces of his shirt, his heartbeat echoing smooth and steady against your chest. Adam draws you closer as the warmth of the crackling fire surrounds you in a drowsy haze, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring a tender, “I love you.” to which you smile and tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “And I love you. For evermore.” His smile makes your heart swell to the point where it aches with happiness. “For evermore,” he replies.

uuugghhhhhh save meh plz

Hi! I’m a new SNS art/fic/???/… blog! An amateur artist (as you can tell from the pic above lol) and cringe-worthy fanfic writer(i will NOT expose my loser AO3′s identity). I’m here to give these two idiots and the fandom as much love as my cold heart can.  ❤️

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no offense but straight fans are the ones that always push pairings onto idols and harass them about ships and are generally intrusive but gay fans get labeled as predatory what kind of logic is that hmm. gay fans aren’t predatory for thinking that maybe their idol might be gay too. it’s the straight (usually girl) fans that take it to another level and get all up in the idols’ faces and i’m just so Tired of gay fans not being able to even express thoughts bc everybody assumes we’re just as bad as the straight fangirls who write fanfic about their favs and call it a sin. i am Tired of straight people commenting hanjoo on hansol’s pics for so long that he no longer feels safe around his friend on camera. i am so so so Tired of every straight fan who ships kaisoo or chanbaek or whatever the hell kind of ship but at the same time talks about lesbians being gross. i am Tired and i Hate this.