#bewareoffic

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I wrote a fic! Which is probably the least "me" thing I've written ever in my entire life. Tumblr hates AO3 links today, but it's here, it's called "2.0," it's a double drabble, it's rated M (what have I become), and it's based on this result from the OFMD Rare Ships Week Prompt Generator:

Which should serve as its own warning, really.

Thanks to @ofmdrareships for introducing Drabble Writing Friday!

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Now that Les Mis Letters has passed Cosette's adoption, here, have an ancient drabble with my headcanon for what happened to the Thenardier girls next!

“Éponine, I’m scared.” “Don’t be a baby, Azelma.” The girls continued walking in silence, their bucket banging against their knees. A sudden noise made Azelma gasp and clutch at her sister. “Ponine-!” “Ssh!” A few more silent steps brought the pair to the well. “Gimme the bucket,” said Éponine, and Azelma obeyed. Éponine shoved the bucket into the water, and, using all of her strength, drew it out again. “Now help carry it.” After a few steps, Azelma tripped, spilling the icy water over both sisters. “I hate Cosette!” wailed Azelma. “I hate her!” “Ssh,” said Éponine. “So do I.”

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Hey did I ever tell Tumblr that the very first drabble I ever wrote was Napoleon RPF? It was for a Les Mis drabble challenge community, and the prompt was to do something involving a historical figure. I did exactly zero research. :)

“I met an interesting man today,” my husband announces as we get ready for bed. “Oh?” “Yes.  He was staring at me.” “Everyone stares at you,” I say.  “You’re famous.” “This man was different,” he insists.  “A priest.  I asked him, ‘Who is this good man looking at me?’  ‘Sire,’ he said, ‘you are looking at a good man, and I at a great one.  May we both be the better for it.’”  He pauses.  “I made him a bishop.” “Mm,” I say.  “Come to bed.” He obliges, asks, “Josephine?  Do you think I did right?” “Go to sleep, Napoleon.” 

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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Soooo, I do podfic now! Wanna hear me read 1,000 words (many of them "fuck") about Izzy Hands having to deal with Peter Pan? Here you go!

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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

High school drama star Edward Teach is ready to give up on acting, until he meets a transfer student doing something new: a musical.

"Hitting the High C's" is now a podfic! Listen to Stede, Ed, and the gang be theatre kids! Thank you so much to everyone who lent their voices to this project, especially @loopydangerfrog, who organized and edited in addition to narrating. <3

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The Boy on the Beach (281 words) by bewareofitalics Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Antoinette & Stede Bonnet, Antoinette/Gabriel (Our Flag Means Death) Characters: Antoinette (Our Flag Means Death), Stede Bonnet, Gabriel (Our Flag Means Death) Additional Tags: Childhood Friends, Sibling Incest, sorry it's canon's fault Summary: Decades ago, Antoinette met a boy with kind eyes.

A ficlet for OFMD Rare Ship Week! Based on this prompt from the generator:

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After reading my daily Les Mis chapter, I switched to Anne of Green Gables, and for a minute I heard L.M. Montgomery's narration in Victor Hugo's voice. Or rather inflection, I guess, it's all just my voice. It was weird, is the point! It is also a good excuse to post another drabble from my Ye Olde Fandom days. :D I think the prompt for this one was just to write a crossover.

“School is dismissed,” said Anne gratefully.  The schoolroom had been entirely out of control that day.  The Pontmercy boy and the Fauchelevent girl made eyes at each other while the Thenardier girl sulked.  The Courfeyrac boy tormented the girls.  The Enjolras boy refused to recite with his class.  The Lesgle boy had a black eye – the Bahorel boy’s doing.  The Joly boy sneezed through lessons.  Worst of all, the Grantaire boy smelled of spirits. “I wrote a poem for you, teacher,” said a boy. Anne took the paper held out to her.  “Thank you, Jehan.”  Some students made everything worthwhile.

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The Dora Keith talk going around reminded me that once upon a time, I wrote a teeny tiny bit of fic about her! A friend requested her for a "five things about [character]" challenge:

Five Things that Dora Keith Did, Didn’t Do, or Thought About Doing

1. Dora wasn't always the quiet twin. She came into the world screaming, howled when she couldn't get her way. “Be a little lady,” her mother finally said. Dora was always obedient. 2. “Davy, it's wrong to steal jam!” said Dora as she primly whisked away the jar. No one would notice another finger-sized hole. 3. The year she turned thirteen was the year Dora ceased to be the most popular girl at Sunday School picnics. She sat frowning over her delicious picnic basket while other girls were chased, giggling, through the bushes. 4. Calm and capable, Dora was the perfect choice to look after a herd of youngsters. She never told anyone how she longed to wring some of their necks. 5. In time, the only interesting thing that Avonlea gossips could remember about Dora's funeral was that her brother had cried his eyes out.