All Hugo Award-winning fanfic, all the time.
Eighteen thousand words and I gotta admit I’ve just petered out on this one. Mostly just self-indulgent infodump, but it does end sort of okay-ish, if a bit in the middle of the action? Whatever. Here it is!
Doodling ideas for the Omeletteverse hiveswarm, specifically Mothra (no relation), who is both tiny and fuzzy and terrifying. Her body plan is based off Alice v2.0, albeit furrier and many times smaller.
tfw you finally import the wip you’ve been half-heartedly tapping away at for the last few weeks into Scrivener, realize it’s nearly eighteen thousand words (how? nothing happens!) and think that, uh. maybe you should finish it after all…
… now if only it had an actual, like. plot?
big shout-out to all the fanartists who painstakingly draw all of Newt’s tattoos and big shout-out to all the fanartists who are just like “fuckit” and do some scribbles
you are all the MVPs and you are all valid and I love you
“Cas…” Sam says, carefully. “Dean, he, um. Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but, um. He loves you.” This last pushed out in a rush, like some kind of confession.
Cas scowls in confusion. “Yes,” he says. “I know. I love him, too.”
“Right.” Sam sighs, which isn’t the reaction Cas expects. “Right, sure. But, I mean. Like, loves in… in the human way.”
“Yes,” Cas agrees. “Dean desires sexual and romantic intimacy but is unsure how to pursue it with an entity, myself, that’s both non-human and that he perceives as male. I reciprocate his feelings but am… inexperienced. But I’m patient. So I’ll wait. And when Dean is ready, I’ll be here.”
From “And so I live on.”
… this year really was the year for, like. Unexpected validation for random crap I put in fics, once. (Though this one is definitely better than the whole “global pandemic” one from FnN.)