#audreyimpossible

You guys... I finally did it.  A Bonnalise fanvid. 

Did the baby live?  Did it ever exist at all?  Will some big-eyed 21 year old turn up at the house all “Are you my mommy?” 

I’ve seen speculation that Asher/Wes/Michaela/Laurel/Connor/Simon will turn out to be Bonnie’s kid, but I think the only viable options of characters we’ve met so far would be Lila (unlikely) or Rebecca (more likely, but AWFUL and probably overly dramatic.) 

This post is part of Femslash Revolution’s I Am Femslash series, sharing voices of F/F creators from all walks of life. The views represented within are those of the author only.

TW: non-graphic references to kink, taboo fantasies, abuse, and eating disorders.

I’ve started this piece about a dozen times, trying to figure out what it wants to be. As a writer, words are important to me, but as a human I want the content to say something true, to be provocative and unflinching. I want the things I write to be a sledgehammer that breaks down the walls of shame that isolate us. Shame wants to stop us from connecting, because if we do, we’ll find out we’re actually not broken or twisted or strange, or that we are but it’s okay. We’ll compare notes and realize none of us have any reason to hide who we are, because we’re all perfectly flawed. 

I write femslash to make connections. I’ve made friends, real friends, in the comments section on AO3. I help other writers, and I have other writers who help me. They’re art midwives; like a baby, sometimes a fic needs a little assistance to be born. Little international virtual villages pop up around characters or ships and we bond with each other over shared fandom. We are different ages, races, nationalities and orientations, but there are parts of us that are the same. 

It goes deeper, to the things that scare us, turn us on or make us blush. I’ve compared notes and realized that society’s “sick and wrong” is often someone’s vibrant fantasy. When I write something that feels “too weird,” either because it’s dark or kinky or too emotionally naked, I force myself to post it. I always expect the comments to say “you’re a sicko” or “how can you write about this?” but usually they’re “I thought I was the only one who was into this” and “This is the fic I’ve been searching for.” We connect over the things that isolate us, that whisper “You’re strange.” 

Maybe we are strange, but we are also the same. Isolate us, make us feel bad about who we are or what we want, and we’re powerless. When we find each other, we learn to stop apologizing for our strangeness and we become unstoppable.

I write graphic sex that’s filthy but full of feelings. I write little heartwarming drabbles about romantic misunderstandings or murderers who find kittens in the trash. I write fills for the weirdest kinkmeme prompts I can find, for pairings that make me think, “That can’t work.” I make it my mission to find a way. I kill off beloved characters, I break their hearts, I build them up, I toss them into bed together, I dissect the worst moments of their lives, I put them in sexual situations that push them too far, I make them lash out at each other, I turn them upside down and shake them until the confessions of love fall out.  

There is not always a happy ending. There doesn’t need to always be a happy ending. My best friend says she reads fic to escape the terrible state of the world. She wants a distraction, and that’s valid, but it’s not the purpose fic serves for me.

I read (and write) to feel things. Grief, rage, discomfort, joy, anxiety, arousal, heartbreak, hope. I process my life by chucking the pieces of it into a cement mixer and flipping the switch until it’s something I can build on. My triumphs and tragedies join up with the things that delight me and the ones that confuse me and the ones that scare me, and then it’s all ground down and shaken up until it’s something solid. 

I wrote the kitten!fic soon after my beloved tortie compatriot died. I used to joke she was so evil she’d live forever, but I guess even cats made of razor blades eventually need a rest. I decided to funnel my grief into something worthwhile by writing something heartrending and sad. Once I started it, the fic wrote itself into something gentle and bursting with hope. 

I wrote a dark fic in the usually-light Ghostbusters fandom; a lot of readers didn’t like it, but there were a few who connected with it in powerful ways. I often write the shades of grey, the complicated parts, the “won’t tie up neatly at the end of our hour-long episode” stories. 

I wrote an intimate fic about taboo fantasies, in which one partner had to admit to the other that she had a rape fantasy. The partner didn’t consider herself kinky, but she listened, didn’t judge and was willing to talk about helping the woman she loved explore that desire. That fic exists because in six years I was never completely honest with my ex-partner about my own fantasies, because I knew she wouldn’t have been that caring and supportive. 

I wrote a story about a lesbian whose bisexual girlfriend wanted to watch interact sexually with a man. She agreed and it was a disaster. The story struck a nerve, because a lot of queer women have had sex with men that felt “wrong” like that. I’d intended it to be a one-shot about the ways we disregard our own safety for the people we care about, but the readers’ reactions were so powerful, it prompted me to write more chapters. It grew into something much bigger about trauma, friendship and understanding.

I wrote a fill for the Ghostbusters kinkmeme prompt “anorexic Holtzmann,” because the mere idea of writing it scared me. I explored her childhood, the difficulty of being much younger than her academic peers, the way she discovered her sexuality, and the people who shaped her along the way.  I dug deep into my feelings of otherness and my lifelong complicated relationship with food and body image. Someone commented that she’d been looking for an ED fic in the Ghostbusters fandom, because she struggles and reading about it helps. “As a smart, chubby girl with an eating disorder, well done and thank you,” she wrote. It resonated with her, because we share something that makes us feel different.

I’ve written more than thirty fics centered around How to Get Away With Murder’s Bonnie Winterbottom. I’ve paired her with half a dozen different characters. Some of the Bonnies I write are fragile and sad; others are voraciously sexual, unapologetic queer dynamos. I love writing characters standing up for themselves and fighting for what they want, and Bonnie? Canon Bonnie? She wants, so desperately it sometimes makes me uncomfortable.

Before I discovered HTGAWM, I’d taken a two year hiatus from writing fic. I’d never been prolific in the first place. But there was something about Bonnie, and her complicated, imbalanced, maybe-not-sexual-but-still-intensely-passionate relationship with her boss Annalise that cut through me. It made me want to write again, made me NEED to write again. 

In Bonnie and Annalise, I saw a dynamic I’d never before seen represented on television, one that I’d lived myself. As more of Bonnie’s tragic backstory unfolded, our stories didn’t align so perfectly, but the moment she knelt weeping at her magnetic, brilliant boss’s feet still lives inside me. It resonates. I saw my past reflected in Bonnie’s devotion, her barely-concealed feelings, her tragically low self-esteem. I saw the truth of one of my own complicated relationships in the way Annalise manipulated her. I watched her give Bonnie exactly enough affection to keep her hopelessly entangled, and just enough praise to make her work until she dropped, and it made my guts ache.

And yet, I knew Annalise Keating wasn’t a monster, because I’d loved a woman who had walls like that. I knew what could happen once the lights were out. I’d seen the teflon shield come down, exposing the sort of wraith that lives inside powerful, beautiful, charismatic women who have learned to be those things to survive. The kind of woman who needs to drink most of a bottle of wine before she can let herself be vulnerable, and who wants nothing more than a moment to be soft. 

Femslash is a small corner of the wider fic world. The HTGAWM femslash community is very small. This year I discovered the Ghostbusters fandom, which offered me another character who reflected parts of myself I never thought I’d see on screen. It was bigger, more active, and the kudos and comments were addictive, but I keep coming back to Bonnie. In my stories, she faces the things I’m scared of and she says the things I wish I’d said. Life tears her apart; she collapses, but then she rises again and rebuilds herself from the ground up. And she’s so very strange. Like I am. Like we are. 

I write fanfic because I’m strange, and by putting my own strangeness on a page, I connect with other people who are like me. I write the stories I need to read, because I know there are other people out there who need to read them too. I write the kinks that shouldn’t turn me on and the confrontations that hurt my heart and the sweeping strangeness because it scares me, but it also starts a conversation. 

Hey. I understand that. I’m the same way. You’re not the only one. And we’re both okay.  

—

About the author

I’m Audrey, I’m an artist in my thirties, I live in Los Angeles and I write smutty literature. On some level, every story I tell is a love story. I like writing deep, complicated feelings into filthy smut, filthy smut into angst fic, angsty arcs into love stories, and profound epic love into fic about kittens. I’m drawn to characters who are broken but persist. My ask box is open and I am always up for a conversation about femslash, “extreme” fic, writing sex, kittens, and any character played by Liza Weil. We are all strange and weird is wonderful.

Tumblr: audreyimpossible.tumblr.com

Thanks for sending this to me!  I haven’t written a ton of fic but there are at least a few that I’m proud of:

1) Devil’s in the Details (Wynonna Earp, Wynonna/Waverly) - I’m still surprised by how well this fic managed to find its audience, lol.  When I wrote it there wasn’t any other Earpcest fic on AO3 and that was a void I desperately wanted to fill!  It was a lot of fun to write; those characters’ voices came pretty easily to me.  As did the smut. ;)

2) Quiet Time & Home (MCU, Natasha/Pepper/Tony) - I’m definitely a person who writes and vids my id, I would never deny that, and I’m really happy that I took the leap to write some proper nonsexual ageplay hurt/comfort fic (my favorite genre) with this series.  It was scary to put myself out there in that way but these fics have been well-received.  This is the only fic I’ve written with a prominent male character, but I loved writing Tony!

Feel free to introduce yourselves, friends. :) 

This is our spot to talk about any and all Bonnie-related topics. Post links to fic, episode reactions, fan art, images, articles, debate topics, etc.

No official rules at the movement other than:

Disagreements are okay and healthy! Just be respectful of each other.

All Bonnie ships are good Bonnie ships.