#profdanglais

They are terrible at running an inn. 

In the beginning. 

They don’t know the first goddamn thing about the hospitality industry. Or carpentry, plumbing, invoicing, logistics. Anything, really. They know nothing. 

They learn. 

There’s a lot of trial, even more error. But by the first time the Revenge returns for a visit they have something. A roof that doesn’t leak. Un-rotted floorboards. Nooks and crannies free from feral beasts of any kind. Zero spiders. Twin armchairs in front of the fire and a bed just big enough for the two of them. It’s a start. 

The Revenge comes bearing gifts. Wee John has knitted them some afghans and Frenchie sewed an enormous quilt, which takes pride of place on the bed. They’ve towed in another ship as well, a wreck whose timber they all pitch in to rebuild into an extension and some outbuildings. Roach helps them plant a kitchen garden and a medicinal one. 

Jackie gives them business advice and contacts for her old suppliers. Lucius has a guestbook for them, with marginalia he drew himself. Some of it at least is appropriate for guests to see. The rest…

“Are you planning to have guests who’ll faint at the sight of a cock?” Lucius inquires innocently. “Because I’ll be honest with you, that seems unlikely.” 

The idea of guests of any kind is still a long way off, but they’re getting there. They can envision it now, and not just as a wild fantasy they spin each other at night as they lie entwined with sweat cooling on their skin. They have actual plans, concrete ones, and a decent understanding of how to realise them. 

They get to work. 

Jackie’s contacts prove invaluable. Soon they have a liquor supplier, deals with local butchers, bakers, candlestick-makers, and even a reliable fisherman to give them first dibs on his haul. 

(It’s not Pop-Pop.) 

A few survivors of Zheng’s old crew hire on as housekeeping and kitchen staff. The soup is phenomenal. Ed learns how to make it and how to cook a fish without burning it. They have fresh-smelling towels, expertly folded. They have guest rooms, and soon they have guests. 

It’s an adjustment, having new people in their space. Some of the guests are gawkers, eager for a piece of Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate. They reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, namely those particular assholes. But other guests are much more pleasant. Locals looking for a bit of a mini-break, people from nearby islands wanting a getaway, even the occasional European who doesn’t know who they are. 

The guests are mostly happy with their stay. There’s excellent soup and decent fish, fresh linens and great views. The walls could be a bit thicker, perhaps, for everyone’s comfort, but the hosts are always most apologetic in the morning and offer copious marmalade in exchange for good reviews. 

The Revenge returns frequently, each time with some new trinkets and finery for their former co-captains. In exchange, they host bonfires on the beach with music and dancing and wine, until they all fall asleep together in a pile, so like the old days on the ship that Stede watches them in the soft light of the embers with tears in his eyes. 

“All right, love?” Ed asks him. He slips an arm around Stede’s waist. Stede tugs him in until Ed’s head is nestled against his shoulder. He strokes Ed’s hair. Ed sighs and snuggles closer. 

“I’m all right,” Stede says. “A bit nostalgic is all.” 

“You miss it.” 

“I miss the crew. I wish they could visit more often. I suppose I miss the sea, though of course it’s right there in front of us. But I’m happy, Ed. I have no regrets.” 

“Really?” The whisper of doubt in Ed’s voice has Stede pulling back to look down at his dear face. 

“Yes really! Do you doubt it?” 

“Kind of.” Ed shrugs. “It’s easier for me, I think. I was ready to be done with it, Stede. Desperate to do anything else but be Blackbeard. But you—you had just got started. You could be out there now with the crew, pirating away. You could be famous. You could—” 

“Ed Teach, you listen to me.” Stede’s got his Captain Voice on now and the sound of it has Ed’s stomach turning cartwheels, his dick leaping to attention. “I don’t care about any of that. I only wanted to be a pirate for the freedom. To escape my old life. But I have a life now that I would never want to escape. Do you know why?” 

Ed shakes his head. 

“Because I chose it. I chose you. I love you and I would be happy anywhere you were.” He cups Ed’s cheek in his palm and kisses his forehead, his nose, his lips. Ed moans and presses closer but Stede pulls back, just far enough to whisper, “You make Stede happy.” 

They spend that night alone in the inn, no guests, far enough from the beach that when they serve breakfast to the crew the next morning not a single smirk or smart remark is sent their way. 

They wave goodbye to their friends that evening and stand together on their porch to watch the ship sail off into the sunset. Stede turns to Ed with a smile. “New guests checking in tomorrow,” he says. “We should probably fix the creak in the door hinge of Room 1.” 

“I’ll do it,” says Ed, “if you polish the candlesticks. Fuckin’ polish makes my nose itch.” 

“Deal,” says Stede. He turns to head inside. “What’ll we have for dinner?” 

“Got a nice turbot we could roast.” 

“Ooh, fab.” 

The inn’s front door closes behind them. 

It’s still a bit rickety, their inn. It’s old, it creaks, it springs leaks from time to time. It’s hard work, keeping it going. But they are devoted to the task. Whatever it takes, they will see their inn thrive. 

I have mentioned before that reading Captain Swan fics has kept me going through this pandemic and has lightened my mood through the election.  I thought I would take a moment to mention some of my favorite completed AU fics.  

I have to really thank all the lovely fic writers on this list for continuing to write about this beautiful couple long after the show has left the air. As a former Glee Fanfiction writer, I know the struggle of getting in the chapters, waiting for comments, and hoping with that sick feeling in your gut that people will like it. These writers are very lovely and have created great stories that I have loved reading!

I will work on my WIP list later on but wanted to start with my favorites that are completed stories!

Completed Modern AU

These Nights Never Seem To Go To Plan

Author: stophookingatmeswan

Summary: When Emma Swan meets Killian Jones, he's a mix of sass, sex and hot mess. As their lives start to intertwine professionally, they're drawn together personally but their pasts keep getting in the way. A Captain Swan Police AU.

Completed: 2016-12-089

Chapters: 21

An Inconceivable Secret

Author: itssarahndipity

Summary: Ten years after giving away her illegitimate son, Emma Swan feels unexpectedly ready to be a mother. Little does she know she’ll soon meet her chosen sperm donor and quite possibly fall in love with him. Of course, why bother telling him she’s pregnant with his child? That would complicate things, surely…

Completed: 2018-10-03

Chapters: 21

your case or mine

Author: miamoretti

Summary: Detective Emma Swan is one of Boston Homicide's finest. Killian Jones is head of the FBI team who swoops in to take jurisdiction when multiple homicides sharing similarities with her current case pop up out of state. But they'll have to learn to work together to lure out their killer when they're required to go undercover. As a married couple. CS Cops/Undercover/Fake Marriage AU.

Completed: 2020-08-15

Chapters: 30

your wonder under summer skies

Author: LetItRaines

 Summary: Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

Completed: 2020-06-04

Chapters: 18

The Naked Truth

Author: brooke2broch

Summary: Captain Swan AU. Emma Swan, investigative reporter for the Globe, has arrived in Storybrooke, Maine, in the middle of a heat wave to do an undercover exposé on small town political corruption. The temperature gets even hotter when she meets the dashing mayor — and subject of her story — Killian Jones. When his political rival Regina Mills sets Emma to the task of finding the truth, she unwittingly puts her in the path of something darker and more dangerous than anyone ever expected. Although Emma has been in sticky situations before, something about this town, her newfound friends, and the confounding mayor have her edgy. Because for once in her life, Emma may have found something worth staying for.

Completed: 2020-11-27

Chapters: 23

With You I Have Everything

Author: OnceuponaSwan

Summary: Emma Swan is looking to start over with her son Henry. Boston seemed as good of a place as any to escape her ex-boyfriend. After receiving an officer job at the Boston PD, she feels drawn to the police chief, Killian Jones. Both too stubborn and broken, they embark on a romance that can only get trickier as the secret gets out.

Completed: 2017-09-18

Chapters: 17

The Convenient Groom

Author: searchingwardrobes

Summary: Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it also could mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that.

Completed: 2020-01-18

Chapters: 14

Dark Gray

Author: colormyheartred

Summary: Killian Jones operates a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, preferring a life of isolation, until one day a woman and a baby wash up on his little island and change his life forever.

Completed: 2020-10-01

Chapters: 18

Devastation and Healing

Author: Jrob64

Summary: Sergeant Killian Jones has had more than his share of tragedy in his life. When he’s injured in an IED explosion, he’s assigned to a physical therapist named Emma Swan. While she tries to help him heal physically, can they help each other heal emotionally?

Completed: 2020-08-28

Chapters: 24

Catch Me If You Can

Author: LetItRaines

Summary: 298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Completed: 2020-01-29

Chapters: 40

Completed AU

A change in the wind

Author:

nowforruin

Summary: As Emma’s twenty-eighth birthday approaches and Henry becomes more and more distant, Regina decides trusting in her wicked abilities will no longer do – Emma Swan must be stopped from ever reaching Storybrooke. Lucky for her, a certain pirate would do just about anything for revenge. AU, Captain Swan.

Completed: 2015-04-12

Chapters: 24

Strangeness and Charm

Author: bluestoplights

Summary: Killian Jones is a pirate captain down on his luck after a falling out with the Evil Queen. Emma Swan just found out she is the Savior. Their shared goals bring them on an epic quest to liberate the kingdom once and for all. It's a lot easier said than done.

Completed: 2016-07-28

Chapters: 24

The Princess and the Pirate

Author: riddler42

Summary: When the notorious Captain Hook returns to the seas of Misthaven, Emma Swan - personal bounty hunter of Queen Snow and Prince Charming - takes it upon herself to hunt him down. She soon discovers, however, that she's not the only one. They must work together to escape their mutual enemies, but can they learn to trust one another before it's too late?

Completed: 2015-06-28

Chapters: 22

Their Way By Moonlight

Author: profdanglais

Summary: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time Emma is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from Henry and anyone else who might help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Killian have the ability to share their dreams, and are working together in secret to find a way to break the curse and rescue the town from a new and dangerous foe.

Completed: 2019-02-05

Chapters: 20

Walk With Me (I Think We'll Find A Way)

Author: Elizabeethan

Summary: Killian Jones travels across realms to find Emma and Henry in New York after receiving an anonymous message about a new curse. When he finally tracks her down, he makes a bold move and greets her at her front door, but before he can even attempt to convince her to come back to Storybrooke with him, he’s met with a surprise that will change his life.

Completed: 2020-11-07

Chapters: 9

Stacy’s Recommended Fics and Stuff

You are all amazing!!! Thank you!

Well, I could be really weird and say that I love that they aren’t in my timezone… Why does that matter you ask? Because it means I get to wake up to fic from them and get my morning binge on. But every one listed in this ask is just amazeballs and I’ll tell you why…

@profdanglaisstuff - Not sure if people realize this or not, but I basically stalked her until she made a tumblr account, which makes me sound crazy now that I’ve written that down for anyone to see. You see, she started posting this angsty little number on AO3 called Raised with the Fume of Sighs and immediately, I knew she had my heart. Since then she’s continued to murder me and I’ve gotten to know her and she’s just such this perfect little bean of a person!

@winterbythesea - God, I can’t even say enough about this person. Everything I’m about to write still just won’t be enough and I know that going in. I’ve had some pretty nasty anons throughout my time here on tumblr, but a few weeks ago I received the worst one yet, and Svenja wasted no time telling the anon how it was and making sure that I knew I was loved and appreciated. That meant and means more to me that she will ever know. She’s always been like that though. Standing up for other people, and I hope she never loses it. That she never let’s nasty anons get to her the way I let them get to me!

@katie-dub - Oh you sweet sweet angel. Guys, Katie is just this rare fandom unicorn. She’s is single-handedly the nicest person here. There is a warmth that radiates from her. She makes you want to be a better person. The best version of yourself. Everything she touches just becomes magical and she’s a helluva writer to top it off!

@distant-rose - Listen betches, this chick is wonderful. Even if she does have her sports loyalties all screwed up 😉  Here’s the thing about her, she has convictions and she’s not afraid to fight for them. Her friends are people she cares about  madly, deeply, and truly and she goes hard core for them. Whether it’s sending tea to people or throwing down against awful anons, Ro is there for you EVERY DAMN TIME you need it!      

for @gbweddingweek a short fic i originally wrote for a zine that never got off the ground. It was written before S2 and actually i think holds up pretty well to what happened in that season.

vaguely, it responds to the prompt "proposals"

a brisk 1.5k rated G | AO3

Stede and the crew in the dinghy rowing away from where they were marooned, towards the Republic of Pirates. Stede muses on how badly he's hurt Ed, Black Pete offers an idea.

-

At first, there was only silence. 

The silence of the sea, that is, not truly silence at all. Waves lapped against the side of the dinghy; oars splashed as they hit the water then sliced through it with a gentle swishing sound. The wind whistled, seagulls cawed, Stede grunted as he rowed, but within the dinghy the noiselessness was oppressive. It sat heavily on the sunburnt shoulders of Black Pete, Wee John, Oluwande, Roach, Buttons, and the Swede, as well as Stede’s own aching ones. 

None of them could say what might be the outcome of this plan of theirs, to head for the Republic of Pirates instead of back to the Revenge after Ed had—and Stede still couldn’t fully process the implications of this—left them marooned them on that spit of sand, presumably to die. None of them wanted to talk about it either, except, predictably, Pete, who broke the silence about an hour into their journey.

“I still think we should just go back to the ship, rescue our guys, and get the fuck out,” he declared, then raised his hands defensively in response to the chorus of groans. “What? We can’t trust Blackbeard anymore, he left us out there—” 

“We talked about this, Pete,” said Oluwande wearily. “This dinghy barely holds us, it’s not gonna manage with Jim and Frenchie and Lucius too.” 

“Well then maybe we steal another dinghy.” 

“That’s too complicated.”

“But Blackbeard—” 

“He must really be hurting.” 

Stede’s quiet statement ended the argument. As one, the crew turned to where he sat at the centre of their huddle, rowing steadily and with surprising endurance. Stede hadn’t said much since he’d found them, just listened to their tale with an open mind but an increasingly heavy heart. 

“He’s pushing away people who care about him,” Stede continued. “Isolating himself. He must be in a really bad way or he wouldn’t—he couldn’t—”

Wouldn’t what? Betray Stede? As he, Ed, must have felt betrayed? Couldn’t abandon the crew as he must believe Stede had abandoned him? 

“He just wouldn’t,” Stede finished, lamely. “Not without a reason.” 

“Except… he totally did,” said Pete, oblivious to or choosing to ignore Olu’s attempts to shush him. “Out of nowhere, too, like one day he’s fine and the next—we’re marooned. What ‘reason’ could he have had for that?”

Oluwande glanced at Stede, just briefly but it was enough. Olu knew. Stede sighed. “It was because of me,” he said. “I hurt him.” His face crumpled as he remembered Ed’s joy at their planned escape to China. How must he have felt that night when Stede didn’t show up? How long had he waited? “I broke a promise to him. I didn’t think he would—at the time I thought he couldn’t actually want to… not with me… after the way I ruined things. I thought his life would be better if I weren’t in it. I thought he wouldn’t miss me.”  

“He did though,” said Olu quietly. “He missed you a lot.” 

“I broke his heart,” Stede whispered, “didn’t I?” 

“Yeah.” Olu’s voice held a wealth of sympathy. “I think you did.” 

“Broke his heart?” Pete’s expression progressed from confusion to disbelief to dawning comprehension, all within the space of an uncomfortable twenty seconds. “Wait… you mean… you and Blackbeard?” 

“Come on, man,” said Olu as the rest of the crew groaned. 

“Where’ve you been?” demanded Wee John. 

“It wasn’t exactly subtle,” Roach observed. 

“Well maybe I just had other things to think about,” grumbled Pete. “Some of us have personal lives, you know.” 

“All of us have personal lives, Pete!” snapped Oluwande. “We can still pay attention to what’s going on around us!” 

“All right, okay! Fine!” Pete held up his hands again. “Let’s just drop the entire subject.” He turned to Stede. “Listen, Captain, if it really is like that with you and Blackbeard then you shouldn’t have any trouble getting him to give us our guys back. You just have to, you know. Woo him a bit.” 

“Woo him,” repeated Stede. 

“Yeah,” said Pete. “Woo. Bring him a present or something. Tell him his hair looks nice.”

“Tell him ye appreciate his beard,” piped up Buttons. “Advise him tae grow it back.” 

“Compliment him on his fashion sense,” said the Swede. 

“Or his sword skills!” chimed in Roach. 

“All excellent suggestions, but if I’ve hurt Ed as badly as I think I have I doubt they’ll be enough,” said Stede. “I need some way to show him that I’m serious about wanting to mend things between us. That I’m not afraid of the future he wanted for us and that I want it too.” He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “I need to show him that I love him as Ed, with or without the beard or the leather or any of the rest of it. Just as Ed.” 

“Well, if you feel that way about him, why don’t you offer him matelotage?” inquired Pete, in a tone that suggested this was the most obvious solution in the world. 

“Ooh, there’s a thought,” said Olu. 

“Matelotage means business,” Wee John agreed. 

“Matelotage?” Stede frowned. It seemed to him he’d heard that word before or possibly read it, but he couldn’t recall what it meant. “What’s that?” 

“Well,” said Pete, puffed up and very pleased to be the one to deliver this explanation. “Matelotage is when two pirates decide that they want to pledge their lives to each other. They have a ceremony, usually performed by the captain but I guess Buttons could do it for you—” 

“Aye, so I could and it’d be my pleasure, Cap’n!” 

“—where they promise to share their incomes and property, protect each other in battle, and be each other’s companion and support for the rest of their lives.”

Stede stopped rowing and laid down the oars. “So… it’s like marriage,” he ventured.  

“Er—yeah.” Pete nodded. “I never really thought about it that way but I guess it is.” 

“Ed and I could get married.” Stede turned this idea over in his mind and found that it enthralled him. If he and Ed were married then they could kiss each other again. They could kiss any time they wished! And more than just kissing! They could live together, adventure together, share everything with each other. They could share a bed. A bed where they could—well. They could do all the things that Stede’s eager imagination had been tormenting him with in fantasies both waking and asleep, from the moment he realised that what he felt for Ed was love. Stede felt his cheeks flush and immediately turned his thoughts elsewhere. A small dinghy in the middle of the ocean and surrounded by his crew was certainly neither the time nor the place. 

He and Ed could wake up together every morning, yes, that was the thing to think about. Thoughts of a bare-chested Ed with soft and sleepy eyes, morning sunlight in his hair, were quite stimulating enough actually, given the circumstances. 

Sleep together, wake together, live together. It sounded like heaven. Everything that had ever troubled him in his marriage to Mary—all that made him so uncomfortable in a married state—when he thought about those same things with Ed, they took on an entirely new and monumentally more appealing aspect. 

“We could get married,” he said again. 

He pictured Ed in a veil like the one Mary had worn, and—was that a thing in matelotage? It might not be a thing. Stede really had no context or sense of etiquette for any of this. But the idea of Ed in flowing lace sparked a coiling sensation in his lower belly, made his insides go all tight and twisty and his skin feel hot. 

That was probably just too much time in the sun. 

He could see it though, so clearly in his mind’s eye. Ed with his hair up as it had been on the night of their excursion to the French ship, all woven through with jewels and flowers, framed by a spill of white lace… faint strains of music in the air as Ed crossed the deck of the Revenge to where Stede stood waiting for him, framed by a glorious sunset… an elegant floral arrangement in Ed’s hands… eager warmth in his eyes… the two of them, hands entwined, pledging their eternal troth together… the vows… the kiss… and then—

The rest of his life to spend with the man he loved. 

Stede’s throat drew tight as tears gathered in his eyes. “Yes,” he whispered, roughly, softly, but in the oddly liminal space of the dinghy they all could hear. “Yes. I’ll ask him to matelotage me.” 

“I don’t think that’s how you say it—” 

“Shhh!” Olu dug his elbow into Pete’s side. “Would you shut up for once and just let him have this.” 

Stede took up the oars again and resumed rowing with renewed vigour, now with a dazed and blissful smile on his face and his eyes bright with dreams. Oluwande watched him for a moment with a troubled frown, then repeated, “Let him have this. Let him do it his way. I have a feeling that if we want to survive this and get our friends back we’re going to need for him to be exactly himself.” 

A new Captain Swan fic? From me? Only *checks notes* one year and nine months since the last one. 

Surprise? 

Actually, the solstice made me do it. This is has been a half-worked WIP for well over two years now and i wanted to finish it but couldn’t hit on quite the right angle. Today i did. A midsummer miracle. 

This is the third and final instalment in the Portable Magic verse, and so i offer a tag to @optomisticgirl​ and @piinfeathers​ because i know they are fans of this verse, along with @thisonesatellite​ @ohmightydevviepuu​ @katie-dub​ and @kmomof4​, for what feels like obvious reasons ❤️.

-

He places himself at the cliff’s edge—its very edge; the tips of his toes in their squared-off boots lie flush with the crumbling granite. Wind whips through his hair and waves crash below his feet—far, far below—against rocks that shatter them into froth and fling their fragments through the air. The world spins around him, dizzyingly, but he is not afraid. 

He steps over the edge, and off it. 

When he opens his eyes he’s reclining on a long, low chair with a high back at his elbow and an armrest at his head. The cushion beneath his cheek is coarse-woven of silky fibres and his hand clenches on upholstery of the same material as he struggles to sit up. 

“That was foolish, child,” says a voice from behind him. A gently lyrical voice that pierces his heart with the single word it does not speak. 

His own is rough when he replies. “I had to see you.” 

“I gathered.” 

He turns as the speaker emerges from the shadows. He doesn’t remember her face but he knows it, long and lean, the lips his, the brow his, the eyes his. 

“Mother,” he breathes. 

Her breath catches. “Killian.” 

He’s dreamt of this moment for so long, imagined it in such detail, but now that it’s here he cannot find a single word to say. 

She seats herself gracefully on a chair beside his own and summons a smile. “Tea?” 

He almost laughs. She looks nothing like Emma—her hair is straight and a deep, rich auburn, her pointed chin un-dimpled and her eyes more wise than knowing. Yet in essence they are so alike, his mother and his chosen wife. He thinks they’d like each other. 

He hopes they can. 

Chapters: 1/9 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Metatron (Good Omens), Muriel (Good Omens), Shax (Good Omens), Original Characters, Uriel (Good Omens), Michael (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, (sort of), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, (also sort of), mostly it's going where canon never went before, or at least not yet, season three pre-write, Good Omens Season 2, Post-Good Omens (TV) Season 2, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Humanity (Good Omens) Series: Part 2 of kiss me (like a lover) sting me (like a viper) Summary:

The demon Crowley has gone rogue.

Precisely what “rogue” looks like on a demon who was never anyone’s idea of “manageable” is something neither Heaven nor Hell is currently equipped to deal with. Hell is rebuilding and Heaven, under the auspices of the Supreme Archangel Aziraphale, is focused on spreading the Word of their prophet, known as the Second Coming--of what, exactly, remains unspecified. Neither side seems to remember who Crowley used to be, nor have they bothered to change the passwords.

The Metatron has no interest in demons, rogue or otherwise. His Plan is going swimmingly and he couldn't be more pleased. Now if only he could figure out who’s responsible for all these unauthorised miracles that just keep happening, far and wide, on planet Earth.

-

i am writing another thing! Following dance the edge of sanity and straight on to post-canon. It will be funny and weird and twisty and romantic and weird and funny. And uplifting. And funny. And weird. 

anyway. Here’s a look: 

The Ritz London sits in the middle of Piccadilly, roughly halfway between the Circus and Hyde Park Corner. Its facade is neoclassical in the French style, distinguishing it from its Georgian neighbours and marking it as one of the most distinctive buildings in a city that boasts an abundance of noteworthy architecture. It has existed in this style and this location since its construction in 1906, so long ago now that almost no one living in London today can recall a time when a person might stroll along Piccadilly or through Green Park without coming under the watchful eyes of the green copper lions who keep the lookout from atop the hotel’s elegant roof pavilions.  

Almost no one. And yet, despite the age of the Ritz and the relative brevity of a human lifespan, there do exist at present two beings primarily resident in London who can recall such a time. They remember not only the Old White Horse Cellar, the renowned coaching inn that occupied the space for some centuries before the Ritz was built, but also a time before coaching inns, before London was known as Londinium, a time when the now-great city was nothing more than a collection of rough stone structures and earlier still to when there were no people there at all. 

Those long-ago times had their charms of course, but on the whole the beings prefer modern London, with its cars and its pubs and its bookshops and its Ritz. 

And so it came to pass that on one otherwise unremarkable Thursday at about half past ten, these beings of extraordinary memory approached the Ritz from the north-east, crossed Piccadilly at an extremely unsociable angle that left a cacophony of squealing tyres and shrilling car horns—albeit, miraculously, no crashes—in their wake, then strode through the door and into the vestibule under the eyes not only of the copper lions but also the doorman, none of whom took any notice of them whatsoever. 

“I do wish you wouldn’t do that,” said one of the beings, the blond one in the cream-coloured coat and well-worn velvet waistcoat currently known as Aziraphale, Supreme Archangel of Heaven, rather waspishly. “We really ought to cross at the lights.” 

“Those lights take a bloody age,” replied the other, the lanky, black-clad demon Crowley, formerly of Hell (even more formerly of Heaven), presently unaffiliated. 

“It would do us no harm to wait a bit,” Aziraphale pointed out. Crowley made no reply to this but instead waved his hand at the wall in a gesture which to Aziraphale read as quite egregiously impatient. At once, doors sprang open to reveal the lift, which had been preparing to open on the fifth floor a half-second ago, now on the ground floor unoccupied and eager to be of assistance. At the same moment on the fifth floor, six people found themselves distributed, quite suddenly, amongst four rooms, with no recollection of how they had come to be there. 

“This isn’t even my room!” exclaimed one of them. 

Crowley strode into the waiting lift and arranged himself in one of its corners, one hand draped casually over the shiny brass railing and the other tucked part-way into his trouser pocket, just far enough to achieve the precise angle of hip and elbow he deemed most impactful to observers. In this pose he remained, well past the time that the lift would ordinarily close its doors and proceed along its upward trajectory, while Aziraphale dithered in the vestibule, casting a series of longing and increasingly unsubtle glances in the direction of the Palm Court. 

“One thing I do not intend to wait for, angel,” remarked Crowley presently, “is for you to get into this lift. Now, or you can take the stairs.” 

“Perhaps we might have just a quick mid-morning snack before—” 

“No,” said Crowley firmly. Aziraphale pouted. Crowley scowled. 

“If everything goes well we’ll be dining here again before you know it,” he said, in a hissed whisper that carried perfectly to Aziraphale’s ears. “I promise you, angel. But if things go poorly…” 

There won’t be any ‘here’ to dine at, hung unspoken in the air. 

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason. <3

First fic: Sea Drift, an excruciatingly navel-gazey Killian Jones character study that becomes and almost not bad S3 no-curse mini-fic then dips a toe into an alt S4 before i got tired of it. Part of me almost wants to rewrite the no-curse stuff but as things stand i cannot in good conscience recommend it.

Last fic: On the Side of the World, a Good Omens third season pre-write. This one i can and do recommend. i'm having such a good time writing it. Please read it and validate me with comments

Only once: A World in Lilac Hues, my Pride and Prejudice modern AU. The only P&P fic i will ever write and ironically the most popular fic of mine by several country miles.

Favorite fic from the fandom I've written in most: i am pretty fond of a lot of my CS fics but the edge probably has to go to To Keep It All The Year. Not a Christmas Carol AU but inspired by it, with similar themes and structure and one of my favourite sadboi Killians and beyond a doubt the best ending i've ever written. Consistently the only one of my fics that makes me cry and one that i reread every year.

Fic I wish more people read: On the Side of the World, probably, because it's the current WIP and i love it and frankly the ship has sailed on CS and OFMD. If you don't want to read those it's your loss and i am not the boss of you, sorry you have bad taste in fanfic (this is only partly a joke). But OTSOTW is my current baby and like all parents i am prepared to make strangers admire it by force if necessary.

Fic I agonized over: idk if agonise is really the word but i wrote all the perfect things (that i doubt) for @ohmightydevviepuu and i wanted it to be Just Right for her so i gave it a lot of thought.

Fic that sprang fully formed: do you know why we have the sunflowers i wrote in about an hour. It was just There in my head. (also fave OFMD fic)

Work(s) I'm proud of: listen, i am not modest about my fic and currently not in the mood to be coy about it. i'm proud of all of it, even the rough early stuff and the ones with great big visible flaws. Some of them i would never want to read again but i'm still proud of them because they were part of the journey. Read them or don't, they will continue to be good regardless.

@stahlop tagged me in a last lines meme and @chocolatepot in a first lines one so here’s both those things in one. First and last lines of my last ten fics: 

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true love like phantoms, much spoken of but rarely seen

first: “Haunted.” 

last: He reached for Ed’s hand—Ed met him halfway—and as the last rays of the setting sun faded into gentle twilight both men sighed into the comfort of certainty that their lonely souls had, at long last, come home. 

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What Keeps Us Stargazing

first: Regrets. 

last: Ed does. 

(lol-ing at this one. how to give away absolutely nothing of what the fic is about)

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A World in Lilac Hues

first: It began, as so many dreadful things do, at a party. 

last: Certainly, nothing had ever seemed so right to Elizabeth Bennet as this. 

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and then the tide comes

first: The storm rolled in seemingly from nowhere, great billowing clouds in an ominous green-tinged grey that rose up from the sea and descended on the land, on the small, curving cape and the lighthouse perched on crumbling chalk cliffs just at its tip.

last: The door swung shut behind him.

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in the still of the night

first: “Edward. Hey. Edward, would you focus, please. Edward. Ed!” 

last: He feels happy.

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all that i am led me to you

first: The first time Stede died, Mary Bonnet had actually believed he was dead. 

last: And so they did. 

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Sleight of Hands

first: When Izzy Hands loses his ring he places blame for the loss squarely where he places blame for everything wrong in his life these days—right on the shoulders of Stede fucking Bonnet.

last: He straightens his neckcloth, adjusts his cuffs, settles the familiar sneer onto his face and heads up to the deck to find out what those useless idiots of Stede fucking Bonnet’s are managing to fuck up this time.

(lol again no character growth for izzy hands)

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do you know why we have the sunflowers

first: Stede Bonnet loves museums. 

last: And so it is. 

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Some Travellers Return

first: When the sword pierced his gut, not missing the important bits this time, all Blackbeard could think was thank fuck. 

last: “I reckon he just might.” 

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i was someone else (someone good)

first: Ed wakes with the sunrise. 

last: “I’m not going anywhere.”  

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