1) I first started because a show I watch, Sue Thomas F.B.Eye (but it’s currently no longer on air), had message boards and fans would post fic on the message boards. They were…they’re called “round robins” or something but I don’t recall a fic ever not being a group effort on that particular board. Anyway, I read a bunch of stuff and once I added my own blurb and people liked it, I never looked back.
I think the reason I started there is the people were friendly and accepting. If a story headed in a different direction, people adapted. I remember gorgeous fic that probably should have ended differently but because someone added angst or romance or action at a particular time, it changed the story. It was as alive as the show in my mind and…it never stopped.
9) (this sort of has a prerequisite but because it wasn’t stated, I’m just answering 9)
For some I don’t have three pairings, I just have one or two but this is going to be long…
Harry Potter - Harry/Hermione, Ron/Luna, Ginny/Draco
Pride and Prejudice/LBD - Lizzie/Darcy, Jane/Bing(ley)
Twilight - Alice/Jasper, Bella/Edward
Pirates of the Caribbean - Will/Elizabeth, Phillip/Syrena
The Ultimate Gift - Jason/Alexia
Titanic - Jack/Rose
A Cinderella Story - Mary/Joey, Tami/Dustin
Avalon High - I don’t have one…I just thought I could write a better sequel than whatever is on ff.net…
Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Buffy/Angel, Xander/Anya, Willow/(Tara or Oz)
Covert Affairs - Auggie/Annie
Doctor Who - Rose/(Nine, Ten, or TenToo), Martha/Mickey, Amy/Rory
Firefly - Mal/Inara, Simon/Kaylee
Frasier - Daphne/Niles, Roz/Frasier
Monk - Sharona/Disher
NCIS - Tony/Ziva, McGee/Abby, Gibbs/Jenny
Once Upon A Time - Belle/Rumple, Hook/Emma, Snow/Charming
Pushing Daisies - Ned/Chuck
Sue Thomas F.B.Eye - Jack/Sue, Bobby/Darcy
Only a few of those are OTPs but in general, those are my favorite to write.
30) Yes I do. Link is here. It’s finished and as of now, I have no immediate plans to add to it. I have a few other favorites I haven’t published because of whatever reason.
This fic holds a special place in my heart because my family was (and still is) very…disheartening when it came to writing and fandom. They didn’t like that I was as involved in writing and fandom as I was. One day I stumbled across the video that fic is based on and I was inspired. I messaged the creator and was given prompt permission to write an accompanying fic. It took something like two years to write it, polish it, break it down, edit it, and get it all published. It’s the first real multi-chapter story I’ve published and it’s a pairing (Tiva) I adore.
Looking back at it I would change a few things, and maybe one day I will, but not now. It came at the right time, from the right person, with the right words to keep me from totally writing off fandom and fic.
Because I realized how long one week can be, and how much stuff gathers between two posts, here is a compilation of all “Honeymoon” Chapters so far. Of course, this post will be updated regularly.
Rating: All ages
Tentoo x Rose
Summary: Tony asks to take the Doctor (Tentoo) to school for Show-and-Tell
A/N: This was inspired by this head cannon that I sent to hardythehermitcrab Thank you so much to gallifreyslostson for giving some feedback on a question I had and to rudennotgingr for looking over the first parts for me and allowing me to vent to her! All mistakes are still mine!
It had been almost two months since Bad Wolf Bay 2.0. Two exhausting, confusing and emotional months since Rose and the Doctor had been brought back to Pete’s World. Two months of talking at Rose’s kitchen table over midnight snacks and getting to know each other again. Two months of playing with Tony at the park. Two months of laundry and grocery shopping and bills and work schedules. After everything she had seen traveling with the Doctor, Rose had always thought she would never be happy living on the slow path but she had never felt more settled or been happier than she was right now.
Rose shouldered open the front door to their London flat while balancing a bag of chips in one hand and holding her work bag in the other. “Doctor, I’m home!”
She dropped her bag by the front door and toed off her shoes before heading into the kitchen. She heard the Doctor make a noise that she assumed was a greeting but as he hadn’t actually said any words, she couldn’t be sure. She dropped the chips on the counter and headed into the living room where the Doctor was seated on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. His new sonic screwdriver was clenched between his teeth while he twisted the wires of a walkie-talkie together.
Rose plopped on the couch next to him, removed the sonic from his mouth and kissed him on the cheek before asking, “What are you doing to your walkie-talkie?”
“Tony and I were picking up some stray signals so I’m adjusting the receivers so we don’t get any interference.”
Rose had been telling her little brother stories about the Doctor since birth so it came as no surprise that immediately after having met the Doctor, Tony became enamored with him. It also came as no surprise to any of them that the Doctor got along famously with the hyperactive and rambunctious 5-year-old because well…sometimes he was one himself. They went to the park together, did science experiments together and had matching converse. Tony had even asked Jackie for a tube of hair gel so he could do his hair like the Doctor’s.
During one of the Doctor and Rose’s weekly visits to the Tyler mansion for dinner, the Doctor had put Tony to bed and began telling the boy one of his stories. The next day, the Doctor had delivered a modified long range walkie-talkie to the Tyler mansion so that he would be able to tell Tony bedtime stories any day of the week.
Rose smiled and shook her head. His relationship with her little brother was one of the many things she adored about this Doctor.
“Speaking of Tony, I talked to Dad today while I was at work.” Rose said apprehensively. “Next friday is Tony’s day for show-and-tell.”
“Oh, fantastic! What is he taking,” the Doctor asked excitedly as he plucked the sonic from Rose’s hand and continued working on the walkie-talkie.
“Well, he told Dad that he really wants to take you.” Rose looked pointedly at the Doctor to gauge his reaction.
Day 15 of the Rumbelle Newlywed Challenge. Rum and Belle shop for curtains.
When her husband, yes husband, suggested that they should start making his house ‘theirs’ Belle had been all for it. It was one thing to be dating and…
Anon prompted: Dark Castle prompt: Belle accidentally spills a potion on herself that allows her to read other people’s minds. Rumple had originally been planning to use the potion on himself to hear Belle’s thoughts but now it’s all backfired and Rumple has no idea’I have been sitting on several prompts for so long. But I finally managed to write one! And I’m happy with it, so that’s always a plus! I hope you enjoy, anon!
First things first: NO SUCH THING AS TOO MANY FANFICS. ;) I envy you, I really do. I wish I could come to these fics for the first time again. Re-reading is fun but to have that first experience… wow. You have some fun ahead of you! I’ll share a list of my absolute faves with you and point you in a direction to maybe find some more.
Now, I don’t know if you are interested in smutty fanfic or not… if not then I apologize. That’s pretty much the sum total of my favorite fics. WHOOPS.
Sorry not sorry. If you are interested, well, then you’re in for a treat:
- Beautiful Dancer by psyfi-geekgirl - brilliantly smutty oneshot that takes place in a club setting. Basically, this is my crack.
- Staking His Claim by ThroughanAmberFocus - A rather short-ish look at post-Journey’s End if Tentoo had never been created and Rose was traveling with Ten. Features another club scene (WOOT!) and a jealous Doctor. Oh yeah.
- Thermoregulation by nocookiesjustbooks - The granddaddy of all dry humping fics. This is GLORIOUS and hot and her characterisation is just flawless.
- Sub Rosa by sinecure - I could talk for years about how much I love this fic. My most favorite Doctor/Rose fic of all time. It’s a post-Doomsday reunion story in Pete’s World with PLENTY of gorgeous angst. Yes, Rose is an escort. If you have a problem with that, then give it a skip but omg, I love this fic so much.
- Coaster Castles (and other sturdy defenses) by rallalon - Do I detect another club scene? Rose initially mistakes this guy for Nine, who is her Doctor currently. But he’s not him. Instead he’s a rather sad looking dude in a pinstripe suit. BATHROOM SHAG. And angst. But I love this so much.
- Synonyms by karenscribbles - One of those Doctor-had-a-bad-dream-and-pulled-Rose-into-bed-with-him-and-it-lead-to-sex stories. GUH.
- Finally Yielding by moonlitjune - besides Cara’s incomparable Part Human series, this is my favorite Tentoo/Rose fic. Its a “first time” one shot but its done just brilliantly.
- To Dream a Life by WildWinterWitch - This is basically the Human Nature AU to end all HN AUs. Reunion fic with smut and just… glorious. Simply glorious. Still not sure why Donna was there instead of Martha but… *shrug*
- Aggression by KCRae - what would it be like if the Doctor experience a mating heat? Something like this, I imagine.
And if that’s not your bag, check out this site, which has recs for different fics based on their theme. So if you want non-smut or a specific Doctor or a particular trope, its easy to separate out and find the fic you want. Lovely! Happy reading!
They’re just little pieces of white nylon.
(Well, in fairness, they might be a poly-cotton blend. He’s not gotten around to reading the tag).
Anyways, they’re just tiny bits of white fabric, with little green and yellow dots on. Stretchy, with a bit of elastic round the top, and not even eight centimeters long.
He’s been to planets where these could be sleeping bags for full-grown adults, can rattle off half a dozen species diminutive enough to use these as shelter for a family of four. A shift of perspective can change the way you look at anything, but when he looks at them, sitting there in the palm of his hand–
They’re so small.
She’s going to be so small.
He’s just got the one heart, steadily plodding along in a chest that’s still not quite used to a single set of beats. He has scars (scrapes and falls and one too many close calls with the stove) and grey hairs (five years along and it’s just rubbish, this whole aging thing) and aches and pains he won’t admit to (except when Rose is in the mood to help relieve them). He’s got to sleep at least five hours a night unless he fancies collapsing from exhaustion the next day. Sometimes he gets sick, and sometimes he gets headaches, and sometimes he actually gives in and eats beans on toast because it’s been one of those weeks and it’s really the only thing they’ve got in.
In any event, it’s been more five months since Rose sat him down and told him he was going to be a father.
The whole human thing ought to have settled in already.
But standing there in the shop aisle, holding a pair of newborn-sized socks, the thump-thump of his single heart feels just as startling as it did five years ago – just as alien, as simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. The muted, dull music being piped in through the shop’s overhead speakers twists into the rush of sound as he bolts upright from the floor of the TARDIS, the crash of metal and rash of sparks going up from the console as he realizes there’s something different about this body, the howl of the wind on the beach as he waits for Rose to see that it’s him, it’s him, it’s really him.
The Doctor is so fixated on the green-and-yellow dots ringed around the ankles of the socks, so wrapped up in how small they are, so small and so big all at the same time, that he doesn’t immediately hear Rose saying his name.
When he looks up, Rose is standing next to him in the aisle, one hand resting on the swell of her growing abdomen, the other holding a basket full of baby clothes.
There’s a pair of booties on top of the pile of onesies and tiny jumpers – yellow and green, just like the socks, and just as small.
“You okay?” Rose’s voice is concern layered over with curiosity, just as willing to hear yes as she is to hear no, and it makes his heart do something funny inside his chest.
It’s not quite the right word (brilliant fantastic amazing terrified) but it’s not the wrong one, either.
He closes his palm around the socks and says, “Yeah.”
It doesn’t happen all at once. It doesn’t hit her in some startling moment of clarity – knocking her over with the force of it. It doesn’t strike true and hard in her chest like she always thought it would.
It’s slow and easy – like slipping into a warm bath when the wind is howling outside or like eating a chocolate chip cookie that isn’t quite cooked in the middle.
She feels it when she watches him attempt to unload the dishwasher – hand and hook working in tandem to carefully lift the plates, placing them with the utmost care on the washcloth spread over the counter. His eyebrows are furrowed and his shoulders are tense and he looks much more like he’s trying to diffuse a bomb than complete a basic household chore. But this is different for him – this domesticity, this home – something she is not unfamiliar with. So she wraps her arms around his waist and presses a kiss to the back of his neck until he relaxes, murmuring under his breath about being a bloody house maiden. But she can feel his smile sparking in the air around them so she rolls her eyes and swats him with the towel, taking her place at his side and drying off the still damp cutlery.
(His fingers slip into the back pocket of her jeans and he is definitely not focusing on the dishes anymore, but she can’t quite find it in herself to care.)
She feels it when she watches him with Henry, their smiles wide and laughter loud. She’s going to have to put an end to this whole ganging up on her thing sooner or later because she has lost one too many games of dice and she just knows something is going on with the not-so-subtle side eye they give each other over the tabletop. But then Henry laughs again (like when it was just her and him but this is so much better she aches with the fullness of it) and Killian wraps his arm around his shoulders, nudging him playfully with his hip.
(She sighs and drops her head to the worn wood of the table as she loses – again – and Killian’s chuckle is rough in her ear, his fingertips against her thigh promising a very thorough apology later.)
She feels it when he moves above her in the twisted sheets pooled low around their waists – those big blue eyes of his blazing in the filtered moonlight. His jaw clenches and he leans down, nose brushing against hers with the softest of smiles – tender and sweet – nothing and everything like she expected from him. He knows her body well and it’s no time at all before she’s arching beneath him – the pleasure overwhelming and wholly consuming.
(He smoothes his palm along the pale expanse of her back, hair rumpled and eyes heavy, his rings dragging against her spine with a muted weight, silently counting the ridges – feeling the scars of a life before him. The angles of their bodies fit perfectly together in the tousled sheets – two broken and jagged pieces finally finding their way to one another. He presses a kiss to the dip of her collarbone, scruff tickling against her skin.)
It happens with soft touches and gentle words – the quiet lilt of his voice in the setting sun as he lies against her back, his breath warm and steady over her shoulder. He carefully and gently pushes down her walls, climbing over the fortress of her heart until he is just there – as sure as the breath in her lungs and the blood in her veins and his hand in hers.
He grins at her, blue eyes searching (knowing – always knowing).
“Alright there, lass?”
She hums, tucks herself further into his embrace until her nose is buried in the warm skin of his bicep and she can feel the steady thrum of his heart pressed against her own. They beat in time and – yes, she feels it again.
An answering smile blossoms across her face until her cheeks burn with the strain of it.
“I love you.” She says.
He thumbs at the corner of her lips, traces her grin with his fingertips – memorizes the feeling of her happiness.
(She can see it in his eyes, the way that he does – the way they sparkle and shine.)
“I love you, too.”
Belle collapsed with a sigh against her husband’s chest. Husband. She didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of that word.
So far their honeymoon had been a dream come true. For the first time since they’d been in Storybrooke together, they’d had a stretch of uninterrupted bliss, and Belle was taking advantage of every moment.
She slipped off Rumple, collapsing to his side where he gathered her up in his arms, planting kisses against her forehead.
"How was that, Mrs. Gold?" he asked breathlessly.
"Perfect," Belle responded. "I think twenty-seventh times the charm."
"You’ve been keeping count?" Rumple asked, looking at her with an eyebrow raised.
Belle just shrugged. “After the first night I thought we might be setting some sort of world record. It seemed best to keep track just in case.”
Rumple smirked, leaning over her to kiss her thoroughly.
Belle trailed her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, rubbing at his lean muscles. When Rumple finally pulled back from her, she let her hand stroke against his right shoulder.
"So, are you going to tell me?" she prompted, tracing the gecko tattoo across her husband’s arm.
"Tell you what?" Rumple blanched, and she thought she saw a trace of fear in his eyes before it settled into something warm.
"The lizard tattoo," Belle supplied, tapping her finger against his shoulder. "I can’t imagine you had that in the old world."
Rumple sighed, rolling onto his back and throwing one arm over his eyes.
"No. That one belongs entirely to Mr. Gold."
Belle propped herself up on her elbow, pulling the sheet up to cover her naked chest.
"So?" she asked. "What’s the story there?"
"Does it matter?" Rumple asked, peeking at her from beneath his arm.
Belle shrugged. “We are both, as David is so fond of saying. I’d like to know Mr. Gold’s history as well as yours.”
Rumple glanced down at his shoulder disdainfully.
"Regina’s idea of a joke, I imagine," he supplied. "Never letting me forget what I really was."
Belle smiled softly. “But there must have been some explanation in your memories. What did Mr. Gold think it stood for?”
Rumple sighed. “My planted memories aren’t much more pleasant that my real ones,” he warned. “In Mr. Gold’s past, he grew up rough on the streets of Glasgow. He got the tattoo as a teenager, when he was running with a gang there. Gold wasn’t a good man, Belle. He did terrible things.”
"It wasn’t you," Belle said, stroking his face gently. "All that is just a construct of the curse. You never did those things."
"No," Rumple agreed darkly. "I did much worse."
Belle’s eyes pricked at the sight of her husband so low. She shouldn’t have ever brought up the tattoo. This was their honeymoon, they were supposed to be happy!
"I love you," she said simply, not sure what else she could say. "You’re not that man anymore, you know. You’ve changed."
Rumple just smiled at her sadly, reaching up to cup the back of her head and draw her in for a long kiss.
"Want to try for number twenty-eight?" Belle asked with a wicked smile when he finally pulled away from her.
Rumple didn’t answer, just rolled her underneath him, mouthing at her neck and pulling her legs up to wrap around his waist.
[Write novel-length fanfic (Fanfic Flamingo) just because you want to write “that one scene”]
"Write novel-length novel just because you want to write ‘that one scene.’"
"Write nine volumes of novel-length prose just because you want to write ‘that one scene.’ With the punching."
"Never sleep again."