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emilykaldwen · 2 years

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✏️😊

✏️ The first fanfiction you ever wrote? (doesn’t have to be a posted fic)

OH WOW Okay. Ummmm. Nellie Olsen and Almanzo Wilder actually comes to mind (it did not end well, she ran into the prarier with a broken heart). I must have been ten? I don't remember if it was BEFORE or AFTER I wrote Star Wars fic. But that was all circa 1997-2000 so my memory is really fuzzy on what I wrote and published and what I just wrote.

😊 The fic that you’re the most proud of?

Um, my first instinct is to say none of them? Because the ones I've put out there haven't been like, super great? But I guess if I had to pick one, it's Fight For Me (If It's Not Too Late) which is a Derek x Lydia teen wolf fic that I actually FINISHED (as in multichaptered). It's still up on AO3. Also I forgot about all the Hook x Aurora fic I actually finished. Soulmates Never Die is also really close to my heart (I ran the community back in the day on LJ).

🎨 Show us a sneak peek from a WIP!

omg omg okay uh... fuck. This is my HotD re-write I'm doing and I'm really trying to be okay with embracing that it's going to be a rewrite or canon and that it's okay? I never used to be this nervous.

(Also I couldn't indent this so sorry)

The more often you’re pregnant, the more he’ll leave you alone.

Alicent recalled the advice given to her when she could hardly move, trading barbs with the other women who thought they were giving the young queen all the advice she needed. She was loath to admit that they were indeed right. Her three babes had quickened faster than she’d expected, but her insides were crippled from generations of incest.

Lyonel Strong had always been kind to her, facilitating ravens sent from his wife, her cousin. The older woman’s messages had been a balm to her soul, but Celeste had been held at Harrenhal as she’d been prone to sickness. To have gone to sup with her father not long after Helaena was born - inconsolable or silent at the drop of a hat - and to be wrapped in the warm embrace of Celeste had been a homecoming.

It could not replace the ache of lost friendship, but Celeste had slotted into the scarred wound that her mother’s absence had left, filling the rift with the loving, guiding hand of an older sister. Celeste Strong had the same auburn curls as her own, the same soft features, and a child of her own. And gratefully, she discovered that she was not a mother who only sat with her in hopes of chaining their children together.

Abrogail, the same age as her little Helaena, had a usually sweet temperament, and had picked up on the little quirks of the princess in the way that only children could do. Aegon had grown sullen after the birth of his brother, unhappy with his place in her lap being replaced once more.

“Daven would do the same. It’s not unusual,” Celeste offered as Helaena was passed to a maid so Alicent could pull her precious Aegon into her arms. The boy was red faced, angry and tearful with his wounds.

“‘Laena bit me!” Aegon wailed, throwing himself into Alicent with dramatics that she couldn’t understand. On some deep level, however, she felt she understood.

I just wanted someone to tell me they were sorry for what happened to me.

Alicent pressed kisses to the soft, pale crown of her boy’s head, stroking his back as Abrogail watched him warily from her mother’s arms.

His tears soaked the collar of her dress as she rocked him. She had not been able to rock him in so long, and she found she’d missed it. She wanted him to be little forever. She would put up with hundreds of fights just like this, if she could always hold him in her arms, protective and full of love.

She’ll kill them, if you do not protect them, if you do not make Aegon king. Your children are the threats to her rule, Alicent.

“M’sorry, Aegon,” Abrogail’s little voice came. Alicent looked at the child with her cloud of golden-red curls as she hesitantly reached out to gently pat Aegon’s back. Her boy snuffled, glaring down at her, and Alicent lifted her hand to stop Aegon’s fist from flailing out.

“That was very kind to say, Abby,” Alicent said, smiling at her little cousin and then to Aegon. “Everyone should be sorry, right?”

His sullen expression met hers, with eyes round and a deep violet that could almost be blue.

Alicent raised her eyebrows at her boy. “It is just and princely and honorable.”

A sigh. “Sorry, Aemond,” came his apology.

Helaena, who did not speak, merely shrieked and bared her bloody mouth.

#ask memes #TY for asking!#I have to run out but I will try get back to people who reblogged this as well

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themangledsans0508 · 3 years

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A Second Family

Read on Ao3

Summary: Ripley had always been with family. Then she went to camp. But she felt like it was family. Why? She thinks she knows.

Words: 1300, Oneshot

Warnings: None

Characters: Ripley, The Roanokes, The Zodiacs, Rosie, Nellie

Ships: Mally (not focus)

Additional Tags: Found Family, ripley thinking about how she found a second family, and how she assigned everyone mental roles

Maybe it was because Ripley, prior to camp, had never been away from a family member for longer than three days, which was for a field trip. All twelve years of her life she had been surrounded by family, her ten older siblings, parents, and her Abuela were always with her. Then it was her eight older siblings after the two oldest, who were twins, both moved out. Then adding her younger brother brought her to nine siblings, always around her.

Maybe that was why within her own cabin, she found herself thinking of her friends as family.

It was in simple ways, from the way they treated her to how her friendship with them worked to how she thought of them as people that she assigned them roles.

April was like a sister, someone who brought out both the best and worse in Ripley. She knew just what to do to get Ripley riled up, and just what to do to get her back. Unlike the others, she ran headfirst into danger right by Ripley’s side, caution was thrown to the wind in favour of the thrill of adventure. Both could get in over their heads when something they saw amazed them and accidentally drag everyone else down with them as they fell. When there was a rare calm around camp, they’d do things like makeovers or overdramatic retellings of their adventures.

Jo was very similar to April but felt older. Realistically, Ripley knew both Jo and April were fifteen but emotionally Jo felt much older. She was smart, calculating everything as they went along to find the best path to their destination, both metaphorically and literally. When she saw something, she saw a problem that needed to be solved. With Ripley, she was sort of a protector. Warning her of danger, scolding her when she did something wrong, and protecting her from whatever came their way. Just like Ripley’s oldest sister did. Whenever she could, she’d try to teach Ripley about math or science, ever-patient with her short attention span.

April and Jo were close to each other just like some of Ripley’s sisters were, practically each other’s counterweight. Almost complete opposites in the way that they basically rely on each other to work.

Molly in a way was like her mother. Gentle and soft-spoken, and terrifying when angry but normally very reserved. She would listen attentively to Ripley’s stories without interrupting with the very same amused look her mom would have whenever Ripley did the same to her. She would idly fix Ripley’s shirt when it was askew or run her fingers gently through her hair. When Ripley would barrel towards danger, she’d be the first to try and grab the scruff of her shirt to keep her from plummeting down whatever cliff she had failed to notice. If they found something mystical, Molly would keep her arms wrapped around Ripley to prevent her from trying to hug it, or talk to it, or get close to it in general. Whenever she could, she would tell Ripley stories about the gods and the heroes and the beasts from Greek mythology

Fittingly, Mal reminded Ripley of her dad. A goofball, the one who would make faces to mock whatever jerky cryptid they encountered. She’d give her piggybacks, or shoulder rides, or throw her like a projectile through the air like her dad would toss her into the swimming pool near their house. Telling wild stories from her home life, the shenanigans that she and her friends would get into that definitely weren’t the best influence (both Molly and Jen agreed). When it came to their journeys, she was the voice of reason, however, sometimes she was far too concerned over something. Just like her dad believed every person on the internet was some horrible kidnapper, Mal tended to react to every noise like it was a rabid wolf, though through no fault of her own.

When they could rest, it was a spitting image of her parents, almost always touching in some way, murmuring jokes to each other that no one else could hear nor understand. Basically inseparable, and they were a force to be reckoned with.

Jen was like another mom, although not in comparison to Ripley’s mom, but to the stereotype of one. Overly protective, to the point that unless absolutely necessary she preferred that no other counselors give directions to her girls. Giving them their chores, reminding them of their schedules, making sure they took care of themselves. With Jen around, everyone else felt like her sisters and they all had their mother. Desperate to keep track of them, and to keep them following the rules, and to most importantly keep them safe since they had a tendency to fail at that.

More than once some of the Roanokes hadn’t made their beds in the morning and came back to them pristine (not often, mind you. They still had to face the consequences of an unmade bed). Bringing snacks for them when they go hiking, along with spare clothes, tons of first aid, and hygiene products. She’d also lecture them about the importance of a healthy sleep schedule and keeping their space clean. Practically keeping Ripley on a leash.

She held herself responsible for all the Roanokes, and all the Lumberjanes in general. Holding herself to a higher standard and blaming many things that happened to her lack of preparation, never on the girls.

They were definitely the closest, but Ripley had three others she gave roles to.

Barney was like a cousin that was an honorary sibling. A sweet child who would give their friends the world if they could. Someone who’d join Ripley in make-believe, running through the woods in wild laughter. Someone who would partake in minor mischief and shenanigans. Baking treats for the Roanokes, making them trinkets and keepsakes. Sometimes joining them for Roanoke-only adventures.

A buddy that was there for everyone. Someone to make the world brighter.

Rosie was kind of an aunt, mysterious and slightly distant. Occasional stories from her past, but never any real details. She would come in clutch when the campers got in over their heads. Strong, independent, and questionable in her taste. She’d let the girls watch her made sculptures, or teach them how to make them. A cool aunt.

Someone to look up to.

The Bearwoman was absolutely a cranky grandma. Snappy, cranky, and sour. She always criticized the girls on everything they did, and never once complimented them. She hated hugs, and was always saying “Back in my day.”

Ripley never said she was a likable grandma.

She told the Roanokes how she felt before, one day before they all went to bed. She was kind of quiet when she said it, not her loud and proud voice she normally used. The Roanokes had looked at each other, and aside from Jen insisting she was not a mother, and getting told by the entire cabin she was, in fact, a mother, there was no protest. They actually started referring to Ripley as she had referred to them.

Except for Jen, but she accepted her role after some time.

She told Barney when they were hanging out in a tree, and they were silent for a moment, before saying they felt the same. They admitted they liked the family dynamic and felt that way about the Roanokes and the Zodiacs.

Ripley thought of the Zodiacs as older cousins, kind of intimidating to her. Save for Barney and Emily, she was almost scared of them.

She didn’t tell Barney that.

Later on, when she was lying in her bunk, she decided that the Lumberjanes were like an extended family.

They were there for each other, they always had each other’s backs, they were a unit.

#chara writes #fanfiction #lumberjanes #lj mal #lj molly #lj ripley #lj april #lj jo #lj jen #lj rosie #lj nellie #lj hes #lj barney #lj wren #lj mackenzie #lj emily #lj diane #ripley-centric

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ripley-rodriguez-oshanassy · 3 years

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lumberjanes takes place at a whole ass SUMMER camp and nellie still walks around with her thick ass coat like 90% of the time. no wonder she’s so pissed i’d be pretty bitchy if i was wearing a fur coat in july with no ac.

#i know i never post here my lumberjanes thoughts just go to the Jen Fanclub or the recesses of my mind never to be seen again whoops #lumberjanes #lj #nellie #bearwoman #nellie lj #nellie lumberjanes

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pandolfo-malatesta · 6 years

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Book Recommendation: Eighty Days: Nellie Bly and Elizabeth Bisland's History-Making Race Around the World by Matthew Goodman

On November 14, 1889, New York World reporter Nellie Bly set off on a journey eastward, hoping to prove that Phileas Fogg’s feat in Around the World in Eighty Days could be bested. Later that same day the publisher of The Cosmopolitan magazine dispatched writer Elizabeth Bisland in the opposite direction in an attempt to beat Bly.

(The Evening World, November 15, 1889)

(The Sedalia Weekly Bazoo, November 26, 1889)

Matthew Goodman’s Eighty Days recounts the women’s travels, and much more: it includes descriptions of the lands and seas through which Bly and Bisland passed but also details about newspaper publishing, British colonialism, steamship speed records, and Jules Verne. Of course our heroines display many of the cultural and racial insensitivities of their day, and are subject to much patronizing paternalism (as when the Right Honorable Sir Mountstuart Grant Duff of the Royal Geographical Society remarks that “Miss Bly has proved herself a remarkable young woman, and I hope she will get a good husband”), and Nellie purchases what I think is a really stupid souvenir. All the same, it’s hard not to admire Bly and Bisland for rising to the challenge.

#LJ's Book Club #Nellie Bly #Elizabeth Bisland

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eidetictelekinetic · 3 years

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Fic Writers Tagging Game

Tagged by @nurselaney

Tagging @ofthedirewolves @rubickk7 @nellie-elizabeth @cosmonauthill and anyone else who wants to!

I started out on ff.net and then went to LJ, but I think all of my LJ stuff is on AO3 by now. Most of my ff.net stuff is... not, lol. Except my Tudors fics.

Please state and link/explain the following fics:

What you’d consider your first fic: Oh God. My first fics were a pair of OC-centric Stargate fics, one each for SG1 and Atlantis, published together. They were just-out-of-the-Academy Air Force lieutenants who I think were somehow related? Also, they were witches, with magic loosely inspired by a Nora Roberts trilogy, and there was some kind of dangerous family history involved (actually, I’ve never fully lost that vibe of shadowy powered families, which is kind of funny). Anyway, I was fourteen, they were terrible, and the only place where they still exist is on discs (yes, I used to save my drafts on discs) buried in amongst my CD collection.

Your softest fic: Goodness, I really can’t decide between them, so I’d have to say it’s a tie between could not ask for more (than this time with you) and Cupcakes and Other Gifts, both Magicians fics done for ‘character birthday’ collections.

Fic you’re most proud of: Again, it’s a tie between fics: this time it would have to be If I Could Fall Into the Sky and The Lady of Rivers and Storms; Into the Sky is a Magicians fic, the first in a series that I’m very proud of in general, and Rivers and Storms is an ASOIAF fic. (It’s also, apparently, my most popular fic, which has actually blown me away a little.)

Fic which shows your progress: Standing Outside the Fire, a Tudors fic. I was writing it off and on from 2010 to 2019, so you can, in fact, literally trace my progress by way of the writing quality in the chapters.

Your favourite WIP: Dance Upon the Air! It’s another ASOIAF fic, the earliest set of any of them I’ve ever done, and it’s always a lot of fun to work on. I’m also very fond of my Timeline 41 verse for Magicians, but I’m currently a bit mired in the kinds of scenes I don’t particularly enjoy doing (across multiple fics, which makes it worse) so some of the shine is off for the moment.

#kate writes fic

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spiders-hth-is-an-outlier · 3 years

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Hi, thanks for the Fic Writer Interview tag, @nellie-elizabeth !

Name: Milo, Hth on AO3

Fandoms: Well, right now it’s all Magicians all the time, but other things come and go, or have come and gone over the years. In my Tumblr era, I’ve written a few Schitt’s Creek stories and a few Supernatural stories, and then just like, a lot a lot of The Magicians.

Most Popular One-Shot: Oh, by far my smutty Schitt’s Creek story 101, which is funny to me because I’m really not In the Fandom for that, the mood just kind of struck at one point to write it. But it’s a huge fandom and the stories I wrote were really well-received, which gave me a huge confidence boost as I was getting back into the swing of writing more. Within Magicians, my highest kudos for a one-shot were for Young and Able, which is just a good ol’ fashioned Fixit Fic, what’s not to love?

Most Popular Multichapter: I mean, Pretty Good Year is probably the best-beloved thing I’ll ever write in my life, which as a legacy, I’m fine with. It has the second-highest kudos of any of my AO3 stories (after 101), but I’m inclined to also judge “popularity” in a subjective sense, and that story has really generated the most amazing comments and engagement. I legitimately had people telling me it changed the way they perceive mental health, or changed what they expect from relationships, which is like -- staggering to me. It’s really the only thing I’ve ever written that I think the audience loved kind of in the same way that I did :)

Favorite Story You’ve Written So Far: God, I dunno, I love all of them a lot (well, most of them). I think the one that’s aged especially well for me is All the Comforts of Home. I really think the premise of A Life In the Day is fascinating, not just the romantic potential, but the idea of living a life that’s perpetually bent toward trying to find beauty, to understand what beauty is and how to speak about it. And Quentin and Eliot are such different characters in the way I think they understand that subject, and there’s something really touching to me about them both kind of...living deeper and deeper into this question, discovering how to perceive the world the way the other one does, falling in love because of this really existential collaboration on the great project of both of their lives: for Quentin, Why Live? and for Eliot, How to Be More? I don’t know, something about the way their personal emotional lives are tied up with their ideas of art and aesthetics really speaks to me, and I think canon invites that exploration. Other stories I’ve really loved have tackled the same theme -- Our Sublime Refrain, for example, and scenes from an unfinished story are both fantastic -- but All the Comforts of Home was my bite at the apple, and I’m pretty happy with it.

Fic You Were Nervous to Post: Oh, I don’t know, I don’t really get nervous about posting. People are either going to like it or not, and if they hate it...it was free, at least? What do you want, a refund? I get nervous to *start* things that feel like they might be too demanding or outside my skillset, but once I’ve gotten myself far enough into the swing of things to be ready to post, yeah, fuck it.

How Do You Choose Your Titles: I am a song-lyric title person for the most part, although with a heavy side-dish of one-word thematic titles. Like, they’re always either called “i listened to this on repeat (while i wrote this story)” or “Meaning.”

Do You Outline: Yes, I’m a little type-A-of-center on outlines; my outlines run either about a page of scene beats in order, or 5-8 pages of stream-of-consciousness, depending on the story. Usually the first...two-thirds of my story will hew very close to the outline, and there’s always a point where I realize that it’s taken on a slightly different shape than my original conception, and I kind of pitch the outline at that point and just wing it. Sometimes the changes are mostly just structural (collapsing a few repetitive scenes into one where multiple plot threads get dealt with at once), and sometimes they’re pretty substantive (the end of Pretty Good Year was actually extremely different than my outline, because Eliot got very in touch with his emotions much earlier than I originally predicted he would).

Complete: According to AO3, 56, but that’s not totally accurate. I never ported a lot of my early fic to AO3 -- I don’t think any of the X-Files fic is there, and there’s a lot of shorter stuff from Due South and Oz and some other early fandoms that I kind of don’t love, so I gently kicked it under the carpet. I also wrote NSYNC fic under a different pseud, and I never merged any of that into my official AO3 canon of work. Actually, some of it was really good! I might do that someday.

In Progress: 2 published in progress, my almost-finished A/B/O Four Seasons, and my not-even-close-to-finished Justice for Sebastian story. If you count the ones that have never seen the light of day, I have the Quentin-1 story, my Big Bang, and a few stories from Supernatural and Teen Wolf fandom that some part of me continues to insist I might actually go back and finish.

Prompts: I kind of love them -- I wrote probably the majority of my Stargate Atlantis fic from, uhhhh, what was it called? The LJ community where they’d give you a prompt a month, what the fuck, brain. Prompts are cool because they feel like low-stress writing experiments, and then sometimes they stay exactly that way, and sometimes they take on a life of their own. You never really know when you start!

Upcoming Work You’re Most Excited About: Like everyone else, I’m excited about my seeeeeecret Big Bang project, sorry! I would say more, but they won’t let me!

Worlds I Would Love to Write for In the Future: I mean, I’m sure I’ll be in Magicians fandom for some time to come, I’m not out of ideas yet. But also, I would like to write some Teen Wolf before I die, it’s got such a fun universe and so many likeable characters, and I will be really pleased if Falcon and the Winter Soldier ever comes out and has some meat on the bone, because I have a huge crush on Sam Wilson. It’s weird that I never wrote any Garak/Bashir, might fix that someday. Would write some Old Guard fic if the right story hook ever came along; I might even write gen for that one, if you can even imagine, because they are the sweetest little found family.

This went around earlier this morning and I expect everyone in fandom was tagged already, but if you haven’t been, hop to it!

#hth fic

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geneeste · 5 years

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oh hey

It's been a while. Posting now because I've been missing LJ and ye olde SG1 fandom. Just because, here are some fics that I've read and enjoyed recently: The Cottage AU series by @ziparumpazoo, starting with My Scars Healed. SG1, Really great Sam/Jack relationship study, with a side helping of Daniel and Jacob and little bit of action. In doorways and dreams, I run to you by @nellie-oleson SG1, Sam/Jack, beautiful and kinda heartbreaking but also really weirdly sweet. There's a nice team flavor, too. the consolations of philosophy by @ivorykeys09. Arrow, Oliver/Felicity, AU. I can never resist Secretly Married!Fic. Never. The Catherine Langford Knows Everything series by @nellie-oleson, starting with The Dating Game. SG1, Sam/Jack, Civilian!Sam AU. I really like Nellie's Jack voice, and I am huge sucker for Civilian!Sam AUs (as you will discover as you read the rest of these recs). Under Cold Blue Stars by @nellie-oleson. SG1, Sam/Jack, Continuum timeline AU. YOU GUYS. It's very good. Prepare yourself. Measure Twice, Cut Once by @nellie-oleson. SG1, Sam/Jack, Handyman!Jack AU. This is the fic that started this most recent S/J spiral, btw. Hideaways by @thesaltyavocado Arrow, Oliver/Felicity. Because of course. And also nostalgia. Too Busy Being Yours To Fall by andymcnope. Arrow, Oliver/Felicity. I LOVE the "we'll just get it out of our systems!" trope. It never works! There are feelings and shenanigans!

Every Plan is a Tiny Prayer to Father Time by @theshipsfirstmate. Arrow, Oliver/Felicity, post 4x09. UGH. So many awesome and painful POVs done so well in this fic, but especially Oliver and Donna at the end. If only we'd gotten this in the show. If only.

Lost & Found by @wagamiller. Arrow, Oliver/Felicity. I don't know how I got stuck on 4x09 fic, but here we are. So good.

Let Your Demons Run by mrspollifax. SG1, Sam/Jack, post-Entity fic. This is very much porn with plot and MY HEART, IT BREAKS.

The Convergence series by @annerbhp, starting with the fic of the same name. SG1, Sam/Jack, Pre-series to beginning of series AU. I just want to lay down and roll in this fic. Is that weird?

Rusted Wheel by @annerbhp. SG1, Sam/Jack, works as a standalone but is part of an unfinished series. There are post-Abyss fics, and then there's this. Like. Holy shit.

String Theory by @annerbhp. SG1, Sam/Jack, Civilian!Sam AU. This fic. THIS FIC. I just. I can't.

x-posted to The Falcon's Pen | comment there

#xposted from dw #fic recs #stargate sg1 #arrow

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kate2kat · 4 years

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Tagged by @versions91 , thanks, friend!

name: Kate

Zodiac: Gemini

Height: 5”5 ish

Myers-Briggs/Hogwarts House/Enneagram/etc: I have never taken a Hogwarts House quiz and I genuinely have no idea what the other measures are. sorry!

Favourite animal: Hoopoe bird (see my avatar. I have that as a tattoo as well.

Favourite animal I’ve had a personal relationship with? My late cat Nelly, who was a very loud, weird Siamese, who slept under the covers with me every night, had no teeth left by the end of his life at about 17, suffered and recovered from a broken and dislocated jaw (the vet was amazed by the injury and the recovery).

Cats or dogs: Cats, but I do know some lovely dogs.

Blankets you sleep with: one wool blanket most of the year. I add a quilt in deep winter.

Reason for URL: made it up in a fit of uninspiration joining LJ at 2am long ago, dragged it along ever since.

Hopes for the future: right now, that society when we emerge from this terrible time, does not just go back to how it was before. We have changed so much about the way we live, out of necessity, it would be a pity to lose the better things. More generally, that I don’t outlive my mind.

When and why I made this blog: can’t remember when (2014? Idk) I made it to follow fic writers I was reading.

Memorable encounter with a stranger: I met a guy on a train in Europe who tried in all sincerity to convince me the Earth was only a few thousand years old. During that same or perhaps another trip, I met a woman whose name I’m afraid I’ve forgotten on a train to Budapest and we ended up staying together there and in Prague — purely as travel companions, which made visiting those cities a lot more fun than it would have been on my own.

Bonus fun facts about me: hmmm,

1.I broke three limbs in the space of 18 months a few years ago. Which by the third time (broke and dislocated my elbow tripping on a step) the treating doctors thought was ridiculous and hilarious. I agreed.

2. I’m finding sewing cloth masks is surprisingly interesting.

Tag people you want to know better: @220-221b-whateverittakes , @laurashapiro-noreally @elsajeni , @saltandbyrne

#riends meme

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annerbhp · 5 years

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So I saw your comments on that post about Surrealis's fic, and it reminded me of a conversation that I think @bethanyactually sparked a while ago...we were looking for a Sam/Jack fic that neither of us could clearly remember, but might have been on FF net or LJ? It was a multi-chap fic where Sam & Jack tried to make a relationship work post-s8, but they just couldn't make it click/work out the issues, and ultimately I think Sam broke it off? It was well written, & I remember being gobsmacked 1/?

And I'm hoping maybe your encyclopedia brain and prior fandom history might be able to help me figure out which fic it was? Because I still can't remember and it's driving me nuts. Even though it nudged me to reread all your old back catalogue (thinking it might have been the DC series) and I can't regret that at all. It was kind of sad, and I remember hoping the two of them would pull through right up until the end. 2/2

I’m sorry to say that this does not ring a bell at all. I think I was allergic to non-happy endings back then. (Still am now, to be honest.) Though I am happy to throw this out there to see if any of the other SJ peeps still floating around have a memory of what this might be. @holdouttrout @tulipsandtesseracts @ziparumpazoo @splash-the-cat @nandamai @nellie-oleson @pepperf

#SG-1 #S/J #fic search #Sam/Jack #jomantha #justplainsalty

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vrenaewrites · 5 years

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My Favorite Books Ever (2019).

In June 2018, I did a video about my all time favorite books. I included 13 books and only a couple were young adult, which is the genre I write in.

Boy how things change in a year. I’ve read probably 20 books since then which isn’t a lot compared to other people, but you’d be surprised how many of those were absolute knockouts for me, quickly moving into my hall of fame favorites. So let’s revisit my top 10 list.

10. TIE: TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD by Harper Lee and MATILDA by Roald Dahl.

[previously #5 and #10, respectively]

These books have to be included on the basis of how much they meant to me as a child and young teen who was bookish, compassionate, and open-minded in my rural (read: often racist) southern community. Scout Finch and Matilda Wormwood were little girls I needed as a little girl, and while I may not reach for these “favorites” too often anymore, they’ll be some of the first books I share with my kids of reading age. They made me who I am.

9. THE MERCILESS by Danielle Vega Rollins.

[new addition]

Boy, oh, boy. If you didn’t catch the pop culture influences on my new WIP, you don’t even know what kind of impact this book had on me. If The Exorcist and Mean Girls had a baby written by Stephen King, this would be it. Sofia Flores is welcomed by the popular, virtuous girls at the expense of outcast Brooklyn, and the price for inclusion is higher than anyone could have known. This is a brutal, BRUTAL book. Full of intrigue, pulpy dirty laundry, and tons of gore, it’s not for the faint of heart. But it is right up my alley.

8. SHARP OBJECTS by Gillian Flynn.

[previously #8]

This book messed me up so bad I had to let my little sister borrow it so I had someone to talk about it with. It worked. Journalist Camille Preaker returns to her small Midwest town to investigate the disappearance of little girls, she has to reconnect with her toxic, dysfunctional family I’ve mentioned it before: a fucked up family and a strong sister dynamic - good or bad - are two of my favorite elements to read about. SHARP OBJECTS comes through with that in spades, along with questionable allies, mental illness in the protagonist, twist after twist, and the classic Gillian Flynn style of stylistic, highly personal writing.

7. THE EXORCIST by William Peter Blatty.

[previously #6]

I am totally and utterly obsessed with this story. I did see the movie before I read the book because I’m a horror movie junkie and I saw this movie at like, ten years old. Twelve year old Regan MacNeil makes an imaginary friend through a ouija board and things...get...weird from there. But of course, the story isn’t really about Regan. It’s about Father Karras, the titular exorcist who wrestles with the imaginary friend within Regan - the demon Pazuzu - and his own personal demons. The vulgar violence Regan is subjected to during her possession will burn into your brain forever, and the exploration of the relationship between god and man and devil feeds my dogmatic interests like few things really can.

6. THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE by Shirley Jackson.

[previously #7]

I can’t overstate how much I love this book. From the queer coding of Theo and Nellie to the unsteady narration, Hill House has been ridiculously impactful on me since I read it almost two years ago. A parapsychologist invites people with paranormal experiences to spend time with him in the titular home, where he plans to prove the existence of paranormal activity. That’s right, this is the start of the ghost hunting trope, guys. Basically, these people get real fuckin’ haunted. As the sanity of each guest of Hill House is threatened and questioned, we as the reader start to wonder what the truth really is.

5. A HEAD FULL OF GHOSTS by Paul Tremblay.

[previously #4]

Paul Tremblay is a contemporary to Stephen King. I said what I said. The Barrett family is torn apart by the change in Marjorie, the oldest of their two daughters. As signs of acute schizophrenia become more prevalent, the father turns to religion and the mother turns to mental health professionals. As their resources deplete, they are forced to allow a reality tv show to document Marjorie’s affliction for the paycheck, where the reality and sanity of all involved comes unraveled. The narrators. The twists upon twists. The unrelenting tension as you become invested in finding out what is really wrong with Marjorie. It’s a book I wish I wrote.

4. THE FORBIDDEN GAME trilogy by LJ Smith.

[previously #3]

I just don’t know how to explain what this book did for me creatively. It’s 90s pulp horror and it made me realize that I kinda want to write 90s pulp horror...in 2019. It’s engaging, well written, interesting, unique, diverse, and quick. LJ Smith can do no wrong in my book.

3. HARRY POTTER AND THE PRISONER OF AZKABAN by JK Rowling.

[previously #2]

Do I have to get into this? The introduction of Remus Lupin, my literal father. The introduction of Sirius Black, my literal son. The introduction of not so annoying Hermione, literally me. The Draco punch. Buckbeak. Big baddies on the horizon. The first YA entry in the series. Chef’s kiss. Also the best film, I said what I said.

2. CARRIE by Stephen King.

[previously #1]

I know, I’m shook. Carrie has been dethroned. Don’t tell her though - we don’t want a prom repeat. Stephen King’s debut is ridiculously good - gritty, scary, brutal, sad, and believable despite being about a telekinetic teen who’s abused into massacring most of a town. Spoilers? The book is like 40 years old. Too bad.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Alice Hoffman’s PRACTICAL MAGIC [previously #9]

Grady Hendrix’s MY BEST FRIEND’S EXORCISM [new]

Dhonielle Clayton’s THE BELLES [new]

1. WE HAVE ALWAYS LIVED IN THE CASTLE by Shirley Jackson.

[new addition]

Oh my God, y’all. I read this book in one day while I was in upstate NY last month. I read it on a dock, on a lake, in 80 degree weather, and I had goosebumps by the end. Mary Katherine Blackwood and her sister Constance live alone in the Blackwood mansion, hated by the villagers, jeered at in the grocery store, and gossiped about - for good reason. Six years prior, their entire family was poisoned and the prime suspect, Constance, was acquitted to the disdain of the public. But when a long lost cousin hungry for the Blackwood fortune comes to visit, secret after secret is unearthed along with little Merricat’s various treasures of protection. Talk about twists. Jackson has a KNACK for the vicious town opinion - The Lottery, anyone? - and how it can ruin a family, a person, and how there can be no sole responsibility for mob mentality. I just cannot overstate how much I love this book.

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mirrorworldangel · 5 years

Note

MUSIC ASKS #9, 18, 25, and 29

Thanks @lj-todd for these wonderful asks!!No.9: Problem is, I have no favourites. But for the moment, David Guetta's Tomorrowland mixes.No.18: Lou Bega's Mamba No. 5. His other songs like Just a Gigolo is great as well.No.25: Numb by Linkin Park. I was terribly devastated when the lead singer commited suicide.No.29: I kinda grew up listening to what I considered as 2000's disco songs. So I am quite familiar with Timbaland ft. Nelly Furtado's Promiscuous Girl and Justin Timberlake's Sexyback.

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themangledsans0508 · 4 years

Text

@mindless-pidgeon lol I was supposed to be working but instead I finished this

Um quite a bit of blood so watch out for that

It was worth a shot, Mal thought to herself. She was lying on her back in the dirt, ferns clinging to her body as she felt the warm blood seep into the ground surrounding her from a bite in her legs. She had no idea what that thing was, both what it shapeshifted into once again and what it was naturally. Just a huge wolf, this time it was even bigger.

She didn’t feel anything. Emotion-wise, that is. Her back hurt like someone had broken her spine right in half, her arms burned from the scratches she received during her attempted escape and her legs…

God her legs.

They were coated in blood, both having been bitten and stabbed by sticks and rocks and anything with a damn point on the end. She had been dragged by her legs to her current position and it felt like her legs were nerves that got irritated at any touch.

So a lot of touch was really fucking painful.

She didn’t even know if she was even gonna live to make it to the monster’s destination. She didn’t know how she felt about that.

However, she was at peace with the fact she was going to die.

On the one hand, she really didn’t care. It was like running from the monster under your bed before you finally meet it face to face. It’s far scarier when it’s unknown. She was staring death in the face.

And she was laughing at her. She was laughing at death.

She didn’t think anyone would remember she fell off that cliff. Nobody would come looking for her. She had even driven her own murderer away before the job was finished.

Did she hate herself? Meh. Not all of her, but probably a fair amount. However, she had always been scared of dying.

Of being forgotten.

Now she had come to terms with it.

She looked up at the sun for the last time.

It was almost as bright as someone’s laugh had made her feel.

That girl could make her truly smile, to forget all her fears.

She had dated others before, but she was different.

Molly was different.

The clock in her head stopped ticking.

She closed her eyes.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Twenty.

The clock in her head starting ticking again.

Started beeping.

She refused to die here.

She didn’t believe in god besides when he was useful in her cussing, but maybe she did believe in fate. There was a reason this had happened, she had come to this camp, she had met those fellow girls, and she had fallen in love. She was ready to start throwing around the “L-word”.

She knew she couldn’t get up, but she could keep breathing and wait. She wasn’t even going to try to get up. She may be strong enough to live, but she wasn’t in one of Ripley’s animes.

She heard distant gunfire and cussing. Lots of cussing.

Who the hell owned a gun in these words? Everyone just had hatches and bows.

Wait. There is someone with a gun. She remembered. Trampling and more gunfire came from the surrounding forest, closing in upon her.

“I wasn’t looking for a maniac! I was just looking for directions!” She recognized the voice, but the fear was unusual for something that had tried to murder her. She glimpsed the large dark mass leap past her line of sight.

“You found me anyways, fox! You want directions? Ask the Grootslang!” The voice was feminine and powerful. And another she recognized.

Abigail ran in fast pursuit of the fox, shotgun in hand and in the process of reloading.

“Hey,” Mal called as loud as she could. Abigail froze and scanned the area, eventually laying eyes upon Mal. She cussed and ran over, dropping to the ground right beside her.

“What happened kid? What’s your name?” Her voice was soft but infuriated. Mal assumed about either her condition or the fact that the fox had gotten away.

“Hey. Um. Name’s Mal. I’m one of the Roanokes. The ones who tried to stop you from waking the Grootslang?” Mal’s voice trailed off. She didn’t first think that maybe when your life depended on the kindness of a psycho, you shouldn’t bring up the fact that you were previously her adversary.

“Roanokes? You’re a Lumberjane then.” Abigail seemingly chose to ignore the rest of her statement, which Mal respected and appreciated.

“Yeah. I kinda got into some trouble and-”

“I can see that. What were you doing out here by yourself?” Mal thought of how to answer that. She didn’t know this woman, besides the fact that she may have been dating Rosie at one point.

“I fell off a cliff,” she said. It wasn’t the full truth, but not a lie either.

“This doesn’t come from falling off a cliff. What did those bite marks come from? A wolf? A bear? Tell me Mal.” Mal sighed.

“A weird shape-shifting fox thing,” she confessed. “The same thing you were hunting.”

“She doesn’t usually cause harm herself. Did she say anything?” Abigail inquired.

“She was doing someone a ‘favor.’ I don’t know who,” she said. Abigail nodded.

“Alright. You need help. That’s a fact. My cabin is too far away to carry you in this state. However, if I remember correctly, the Lumberjanes camp is that way.” She pointed north. “Correct?”

“Uh, I actually don’t know,” Mal mumbled. “I got kind of disoriented in the process of ending up here, so, maybe?”

Abigail pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed deeply.

“Okay, well then we’re going with my gut instinct.” Abigail bent down and gingerly picked Mal up, sending searing pain through her body. She squeezed her eyes shut and held in a scream.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Molly was hearing things.

Upon discovering the mess of red, Molly had briefly collapsed. Rosie remained as determined as ever, insisting that Mal was alive. She decided they split up, Rosie and Jen, and Molly and Nellie. She wasn’t blind to the fact that they hoped it would distract her, that she would be so preoccupied with asking questions that she would be able to get her off track while Rosie did the real heavy lifting.

Unfortunately for them, it didn’t work.

Molly ran through the woods, Nellie on her heels instead of the other way around. Molly hadn’t asked any questions, and Nellie had no sarcastic comments to make to the girl.

She could hear things, voices surrounding her. The trees themselves spoke to her. They told her directions, right, forward, left, back. She could sense animals that had meant harm avoiding her. She could even feel the portals to the other dimensions around her.

Then she saw a light.

And she ran straight towards it.

Nellie struggled to understand how people felt so attached to others.

Maybe it was because she was always a person who preferred to be alone. Maybe it was because she would rather deal with things herself, and let everyone else deal with their problems, or maybe it was because the only thing she truly cared about was these woods.

This camp.

This girl.

There was something different about her, she could tell. It was written on her. Rosie could see it, Abigail could see it, she could see it herself. The girl, Molly, could only feel it.

But there were other things that could see it too. Things that want to use it to remove the seal that kept these woods away from the rest of the world.

Despite all of this, she was different even for a guardian. Nellie herself would readily admit that she could use magic, but that doesn’t mean every guardian can. Molly, however, could use magic even better that she could.

If she knew, that was.

Perhaps she felt obliged to care about her, perhaps she felt bad for her, perhaps she saw a bit of herself in her.

Whatever it was, she wanted to help this kid.

But, she couldn’t help this if she kept running into every dangerous situation she saw.

For instance, running into that area of woods.

His area.

“What do you think you’re doin’ girl?” She was lucky she was part bear, otherwise, she couldn’t keep up with that kid. She took off running after the stream of blonde, taking notice of the fact that wherever she stepped, the ground seemed to instantaneously die.

Although she felt like she was burning to ashes, Mal was still awake and could see the sea of green pass above her as Abigail raced through the forest. Clinging as tightly as she could in her current state she held to Abigail’s back. She felt dizzy for several reasons, blood loss being a major one. Abigail was strong, but she couldn’t run as fast as either of them wanted.

She suddenly stopped, nearly slipping in her haste. She looked into the abyss of plants, her eyes fixed on something Mal could not see.

“There’s someone coming,” she said flatly. She carefully stepped towards the object of her interest, before freezing once again.

A burst of blonde dived out of the woods, eyes fixed solely on Abigail. Mal recognized her the moment she emerged from the dark.

Molly, with small scratches littering her body from dashing through the woods, stood directly in front of Abigail with anger and fear dominating her eyes.

“Molly!” Mal called. Her voice was weak, but she could hear her.

“Mal!” She rushed towards Abigail.

“You. Let. Her. Go. Now!” She demanded. Mal let go of Abigail’s back with one hand, loosely holding it in front of them.

“Molly! Wait! She saved me. It’s not her fault. But, um, Abigail? Could you let me down? I might be able to walk.” Abigail nodded, gently crouching down and releasing her. Mal tried to get a firm grip on the ground, but immediately almost fell back into the dirt. Abigail’s firm grip kept her upright. She turned to Molly.

“You might want to help her, I don’t want to leave her trying to stand by herself.” She nodded and rushed over, carefully wrapping her arms around Mal’s waist. Mal felt warmth flood to her face, being touched in any way by someone you really love can make you blush.

She learned that fast after meeting Molly.

Molly held Mal tightly like she was the only rope holding her up from falling in hell. She was never letting her go again. Metaphorically, that is. She felt tears escape the prison she had locked them. She closed her eyes and rested her head atop Mal’s. If Mal hadn’t been in danger, she would have wished the moment could last forever.

Nellie emerged from the woods at last. She wanted to see how the girl would handle it. But god, did she hate tears. She approached Abigail silently, before turning back to a human and resting her hand on her arm.

“You did good, girl. But don’t think for a second this means you can do whatever you want in these here woods!” She scolded, removing her hand and crossing her arms.

“You old bat! She would have died if I hadn’t come along! I should hang you up and-” she took a deep breath. “Thank you. For the compliment.”

Nellie nodded, a silent understanding embracing the two.

“Your girl is on the other side of the woods if you want to see her. I know you watch her from the woods, kid.” Abigail clenched her fists.

“Thank you, grandma,” She sneered and rushed off before Nellie could give her a lashing with her words. She turned back to a grizzly and approached the girls.

Sutela watched from the treetops, careful not to be seen. True, she was a small fox at the moment, but that old hag could recognize her if she was a rock. She lost the girl, the only thing the boss wanted. On the flip side, she found someone with even more potent energy to her than the flannel girl. He’d want to hear about that. She carefully lept from the trees back to her home and her boss, where she hoped she could make up for her failure.

Mal woke up at last. Coated in bandages and under bunk-arrest, she couldn’t go anywhere or do anything. She had slept for a while, exhausted and scarred (literally) from the adventure.

She didn’t know how Rosie managed to convince her mom that nothing had actually happened, and it had simply been a nightmare. That took talent. Or drugs.

Lots of drugs.

She breathed deeply. The warmth of her bunk reflecting on her body and making her feel safe.

Until the door creaked open.

She felt panic fill her body. Everyone was supposed to be at activities, it couldn’t be one of her cabin-mates.

“Mal?”

Or maybe it could.

Molly stepped into the cabin, carefully closing the door behind her. She came and knelt next to Mal’s bunk. She reached her hand out and placed it on her cheek.

“Are you okay?” She nodded and moved over, patting the bunk to invite her on.

Molly complied, carefully climbing onto the bunk and laying on her side adjacent to Mal. She reached out and pulled Mal towards her so their foreheads were touching and intertwined their legs.

“Mal, I-” She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing raggedly. “I thought you had died.” Mal laughed weakly and moved one hand to hold hers.

“I did too. Molly, when I was out there, I think I almost died. And not to be sappy but, I think it was you that helped me hang on. I was about the throw in the towel, and I did. For like a half-hour, it was just dark. Then I realized I had to try and live because I had to see you again. “ She felt tears slide down her face as she spoke. She tried to keep her voice from cracking as she continued.

“I thought about you and the fact that I-I love you. Like I’ve said that before to other girls when I dated them, but you’re different. I think about things with you routinely that would have never crossed my mind with them. I want to grow up with you Molly. Through everything. I want to stay with you. And if you don’t feel that way, fuck, we aren’t even dating, it’s okay. I can respect that.” Mal held her breath.

Molly couldn’t help but feel jealous, angry even, hearing about the fact Mal had previously dated other girls. She had to remember that it was in the past. Even though she feared that maybe Mal was lying, she could feel the truth in her words. She was telling the whole truth.

“Mal, I did nothing but search for you for hours. I’d do it again, and again, and again. I want to be with you, Mal. I think I-” she hesitated briefly. “I love you too. A lot. I would do anything for you. And hearing you feel the same way, I can’t believe it. I get to call you my girlfriend. I’ll be so happy once it sets in.” Mal laughed.

“What’ll help it set in?” she asked.

“Sleep,” Molly smiled. Mal scooted closer to her, nuzzling into her neck and wrapping her arms around her back.

“Well, I’m under bed-arrest, so we can do that for a while.” Molly grinned like a kid with candy and looked down at Mal, softly kissing her forehead. She held her tightly.

“I love you, Mal.”

“I love you, Molly.”

lol ill tag the wattpad stuff later but if you wanna request you can

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ripley-rodriguez-oshanassy · 4 years

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the lumberjanes are missing out on a real once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: being able to hug a bear without the risk of it killing you

#well... at least LOWER chance #i want to hug a bear and im jealous #they are so good #nellie #bearwoman #lumberjanes #lj #lumberjanes nellie

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that-was-not-supposed-to-happen · 6 years

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The fairy realm

pairing: Mad Sweeney x OC

fandom: american gods

@nekodemon73 @kumpmk @bookswillfindyouaway @mads---world @lj-laufeypevensieweasley @archer-whovian-violinist

The fairy realm. How he had dreaded to come back here. But circumstances left him no choice, no matter his own personal feelings. Not like Wednesday had cared about that before, so he was somewhat used to getting the short end of the stick.

The fog was thick, covering the entire place with an eerie sort of feeling. The grass beneath his feet gave in, the ground wet and dirty from the rain that always seemed to cover this place.

Here, the rainy days outnumbered everything else, a constant wind was blowing, always on the verge of transforming into a full-on storm that would shake the ground.

"How dare you!" A voice out of the shadows he remembered all too well, "You've got nerves to show up here."

"Nellie. Dear, how are you?"

"Save it asshole."

She was just as charming and beautiful as ever. Flaming, red curly hair down to her hips and a never leaving scowl on her face whenever she looked at him. Perfect in every way, with just a tiny problem which was entirely his fault, he knew. She absolutely despised him. Not a good start, especially because she was the queens' counsellor and he desperately needed an audience.

"Right down to business then. I need an audience with your sister."

"She doesn't want to see you."

"Does she…or is that just you?" He asked with a hint of a smirk, loving how her nose scrunched up in anger and she took a step closer towards him, ready to punch him in the face.

"Maybe a bit of both."

"Bad girl. Fairies aren't supposed to lie."

"I wasn't lying."

"No but you were twisting the truth, don't think I haven't caught on to your little tricks over the years."

"Too bad you haven't caught something else." She sneered, rolling her eyes.

Were her harsh words justified? Yes, definitely. He had screwed her over in the past, on a quite regular basis actually. It wasn't like he did it on purpose or all the time but if you're hundreds of years old you're bound to make some unfortunate decision. Sweeney had a bit more of those than most people, but that's what you got, getting involved with gods.

"I already apologized!" He says, now groaning at her stubbornness. This whole thing could be so much easier and more fun, if it weren't for her remarkable ability to really hold a grudge. Though he had to admit, seeing her cute face seeping with rage always amused him.

"Yes, you did and I told you to screw yourself!"

"We both know I'd rather screw you."

Despite her tough act, she actually was a sweetheart. Always helping him out in the end even if he definitely hadn't deserved it. One thing was quite clear as well, she still couldn't handle his flirting without blushing from ear to ear. Another reason he found her utterly adorable.

"I'll show you to the castle but don't think there will be any support from me whatsoever."

A week attempt to avoid the subject at hand but at least he got to speak to the queen and she had a reason to turn around and walk away, hiding her face from his piercing gaze.

#mad sweeney imagine #mad sweeney #american gods imagine #mad sweeney x oc #american gods

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