queenofravens01
Graveyard of lost OCs and AU ideas
22, she/her|🇷🇺🇦🇲🇨🇿| avid fandom enthusiast | RWRB, TW, HP, JATP, TO, and many more [P.S. If you know artists of profile pics, pls let me know]
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dominhdang
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Drawing all day every day.
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love thy goaltender
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EMOCIONAL
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Since you mentioned that you’re currently into Red White & Royal Blue, do you have any fic recs? <3
YES. I do. And I'm so glad you asked! It's taken me several months to feel like I've read enough to make some reclists, but I am ready!
A lot of fics could go in more than one category, but I wanted to avoid that, so I picked what I thought was best. If it's your fic and you think it belongs elsewhere, let me know! Same with author tags...if yours is missing or you know one I missed, let me know.
Speaking of authors...firstprince writers, I haven't commented as often as I'd like. I'm sorry! But you've fueled my fixation since August and I'm very grateful. Please consider recs my forehead kiss for you. 💚
Find my favorites in lists linked below:
AU - Part One AU - Part Two AU - Part Three
Canon Compliant
Coffee Shop/Restaurant/Bar AU
College & High School AU
Everything Else
Fake Dating
Holidays
Parental Angst
Roommates & Neighbors
Single Parents & Parents
Smut Favorites
Sports (AU or Otherwise)
Tech-Based Fun
I'll keep updating but I hope you find something you haven't read! Show the author some love, read all their other work, and let me know if you've found a new fave. 💚
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Oh, 10000%.
I'm that bitch (no yet rich, but one can hope 😭)
It's me. I'm the distant aunt.
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My first thought was Lockwood and Co.
Then there were Marauders.
OPA and others came to mind as well (bc I'm finishing off Scandal)
And of course, whole Beacon Hills gang ♥️
FOUND family??? you think i just found them like this??? babes this is FORGED family. Me & the bros were scrap metal in a junkyard (very valuable, very sharp, very dangerous, uncared for) and we GOT IN THE FUCKING FIRE TOGETHER. WE did this. we said I AM NOT LEAVING YOU and melted into each other for better or for worse (it’s for better) and we are A FUNCTIONAL UNIT now. DO NOT SEPARATE. BATTERIES FUCKING INCLUDED. FOUND family my ass, we built this non-nuclear family unit from the ground up, don’t devalue this!!! it was is and will be a labour of love!!!
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The magnificence! The Art!!! Loooooove it ♥️
Saving it as not to loose
(OP, if you're against it, pls hit me up and let me know)
Snippet / microfic / something idk
Aka where Regulus wakes up half drunk on the floor of his brother’s apartment and forgets that the spare bedroom is no longer a spare bedroom
The moonlight has carved out a hollowness into the room when Regulus opens his eyes. There’s music playing, still, for an audience of empty cups and a few toppled chairs and the snoring bodies of his friends on the couch.
Barty is splayed out over Evan, face buried into his neck like he doesn’t need air, but rather, he lives and breathes the boy beneath him. Evan’s hand has planted roots in his skull, twisted into matted hair. Flecks of glitter sprinkle every inch of the boys, a sparkle here and there in their hair, embedded in their skin, their eyelashes and parted lips. They’re a grimy sort of angelic in their blacked-out state of being, sleep blanketing them in an innocence you’d never find otherwise.
It’s not the first time he’s waken here, stiff back and sour taste in his mouth. He stumbles to the kitchen sink and sticks his head in, letting the water run rivers down his face and neck as he drinks it in gulps. It’s about a full minute of that, and then running his hands over his face for good measure, before he continues his trek to the bathroom, scouring the cabinet for mouthwash and taking a swig straight from the bottle and then swishing it and spitting into the sink, hands gripping the porcelain to hold up his own weight. It’s a wonder he’s been able to stand for this long with exhaustion dragging him down like an anchor tied to his limbs.
He trails behind himself into the hall and then his usual room, hands held out in front of him in the absence of sight. It takes a minute to find the bed. Once he does, he’s unceremoniously tugging back the covers and collapsing onto the mattress, sleep already overtaking him.
He sighs, half in relief and half in pain, pulling up the covers and-
“Well this is new.”
“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.”
Regulus’s skull collides with the headboard before he can form a cohesive thought.
Sleep has made a hasty retreat, driven out by adrenaline and pure fear. The man in his bed—James, to be specific—instinctively shoots a hand out, clasping onto his arm.
“Shit, are you okay?”
“What the fuck are you doing here!?” Regulus whisper-yells, propped halfway up on his arm with the other hand clutching his head.
“What am I doing in my bed?”
Regulus blinks. Fuck. He forgot this bed actually belonged to someone. Not just someone. Of course, never just someone.
“I… forgot you lived here.”
His eyes have adjusted to the darkness, now. He watches James stare at him, dumbfounded, for a few beats. And then he bursts into a fit of laughter.
Of course the fucker is laughing. It blooms on his face like Spring itself; even here, dimly lit and squinting, it’s blinding. Rays of sunlight cutting through his teeth as he gasps for breath inbetween. Flower and leaf and fruit sprouting from his throat, and Regulus is just too tipsy to avoid the vines coiling around him, his arms and legs and chest, taking root in his own throat, planting seeds in his lungs.
He’s too tired to fight the branches stretching out like hands and pulling at the corners of his own lips, coercing a smaller laugh. He doesn’t even think it’s that funny, maybe James is just delirious. Maybe he’s still a little drunk, too.
“You forgot I lived here. In my room. In my apartment.” James relays, his hysterics reigned in to a splitting grin. Blinding, blinding, still blinding. He’s on his side, head resting in his hand—the other hand is still on Regulus, a light touch burning holes through his clothes, the skin on his shoulder, the muscle and bone marrow, planting more seeds, sprouting more life. He’s staring up at Regulus with sparkling eyes. Who gave him this much joy? Who gave him the idea to direct any of it his way?
Even here, in the middle of the night, waking him up just to shed glitter on his clean sheets and yell at him for existing in his own home.
Regulus doesn’t deserve it. But he can’t find it in himself to deny it right now.
“I may have, uh, passed out in here drunk a few times when you weren’t here last year.”
“A few times?” James asked, eyebrows raised, hand still there.
“Ok. Maybe a lot. Forgot it wasn’t actually mine,” Regulus admits, trying not to shortcircuit from the contact. Trying to relocate the mask of indifference he misplaced after the 3rd or 4th shot. He can just barely feel he’s still smiling, stupidly. He can’t find the right muscles to make it go away.
The analog clock on the dresser across the room reads 3:27 AM in a blue glow. Regulus knows the sensible thing to do now is get up, but the soft arms of sleep are extending from somewhere below, furling around his body and pulling down. The mattress, James’s mattress, might be the softest thing he’s ever laid rest on and it’s enveloping him like quicksand. He lets his head drop forward like dead weight as he musters the strength to move.
“Well don’t let me stop you, then,” James says, amusement and something strangely resembling adoration painted on his face. “I can sleep on the couch, if you want.”
It’s all way too casual for the absolutely absurd offer.
Regulus stares at him in disbelief. “You’re just gonna let me kick you out of your own bed.”
James shrugs, “You look comfy.”
There’s the distant hum of a car engine passing outside, an intermittent clicking sound from the run down heater in the room. The window shade is somewhat transparent, which defeats the whole fucking purpose of the thing, much to Regulus’s annoyance—he’s awoken, against his will to many a sunrise in this room—and a nearby streetlight gently pollutes the darkness, illuminating James from behind in a halo of muted yellow light.
“That’s fucking ridiculous,” Regulus replies, still not moving. James laughs softly. A few daisies sprout in the garden growing between them. “Barty and Evan are on the couch, anyway.”
“I’ll take the floor then.”
“You’re not sleeping on the fucking floor for me.”
“Well I’m more than happy to share, then.”
“You’re not- what?” His bemusement distracts him momentarily from the growing effort of keeping his eyes open. James squeezes his shoulder lightly, the bastard, drawing a small breath from him that he hopes to god goes unheard, before finally drawing back his hand.
“I sleep on the floor or we both sleep here. Your choice.”
“And if I sleep on the floor?”
“I’ll still sleep on the floor out of spite. I don’t think you could get up if you tried, right now, anyway.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Regulus groans. He fully collapses in defeat onto the pillow as he says it, which might take some of the edge out of the remark.
“I really don’t mind the floor, love. Good for the back and all. I’ve got tons of extra pillows and blankets, anyway,” James says, gesturing to the floor next to his bed.
“Just sleep in the god damn bed,” Regulus sighs. He shuffles so he’s on his back, one arm bent over his head rather dramatically, and closes his eyes. He’s fully relented in his battle with his own exhaustion now, and it’s closing in fast.
James doesn’t move for a moment. Regulus can feel his gaze like a beam of sunlight through a magnifying glass. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to smell his own clothes begin to smoke in the wake of it. “Are you sure?” he finally asks, playful tone receding. “I just- I should warn you I’m a bit of an.. active sleeper. And I know you don’t always like people touching you-“
“It’s alright when it’s you.”
It comes out nearly a whisper now as he sinks. He’ll blame it on alcohol or delirium, tomorrow, if he’s not outright denying having said it. He doesn’t actually know why he said it out loud. Regulus usually keeps the truth to himself, as a general rule.
The last thing he hears before falling asleep is James’s small intake of breath, followed by a faint “Oh. Yeah?” and then reality rescinds entirely.
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Regulus "have you ever wanted to cry but no tears came out, so you just stare blanky into space while feeling your heart break to million pieces?" Black.
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I JUST FOUND THE PERFECT JEGULUS MUSIC ARTIST AU WITH BACKGROUND WOLFSTAR, MARYLILY, ROSEKILLER AND, DORLENE
it follows regulus as taylor swift during the 1989 era and the transitions from 1989 to reputation.
the marauders are in a band and they’re basically conan gray and sabrina carpenter. remus and sirius write music together about each other!!! JAMES IS JOE. it also has some marylily!!!
dorcas is jack antonoff and produces marlene’s music (she’s phoebe bridgers in this)!!!
evan is ed and barty is ed’s wife.
pandora is selena gomez.
snape is kanye
walburga is scott borchetta
voldemort is scooter braun.
THE FIC IS CALLED “starry eyes (sparking up my darkest night)”, by wrongcaitlyn on ao3 !!!!!
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do u ever have those nights where u open 40 fanfics
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Someone recently called Derek a "whiny edgelord" and I was like, wow, so you've seen two gifsets and not the actual show then.
Literally everybody else complains more than Derek. I think Derek complains one single time and it's when he points out that Allison and Lydia screwed him over and never apologised.
Dude is literally dying during season 4, and is like "well, i'm 23, it's clearly my time to go" and just naps.
derek has peak millennial energy but what's so funny to me is that one of derek's major character features is that he refuses to discuss his traumas with anyone. ever. at all. he would rather die.
it's a huge plot point that no one knows that kate argent was the one who killed the hales. except derek.
like, laura goes back to beacon hills and begins looking into the fire. she does the footwork that peter later uses for his killing spree. they don't know it was kate. derek does.
the fire was never a mystery to derek but he didn't tell anyone because of the guilt he felt for the role kate forced him to play in what happened. he never told a soul what kate did to him.
only stiles and peter figure it out once they have enough of the puzzle. neither of them advertise the information.
derek doesn't even speak to kate all that much when she taunts him in the tell and later when she captures him.
the closest we ever get is in code breaker when he says to scott in the strongest case of projection beacon hills has ever seen:
"you want me to risk my life for your girlfriend? for your stupid little teenage crush that means absolutely nothing? you're not in love, scott! you're sixteen years old! you're a child!"
derek hale never talks about paige. other people talk about paige. not him. he never, ever says her name to anyone. jennifer and peter are the ones who co-opt the tragedy for their own purposes.
he doesn't talk very much about what's happening to him in season 4 and when this man is on his deathbed he tells stiles -- someone who means a lot to him and clearly is hesitating to leave him -- to go save scott.
derek hale don't talk about shit. sure he does get vocally angry about things and annoyed like you mention. he does with scott and stiles all the time and with lydia and allison in chaos rising:
this one [lydia], who used me to resurrect my psychotic uncle--thank you--and this one [allison], who shot about thirty arrows into me and my pack?
it's why his pants are so tight. they're holding in all his trauma. i mean what's he gonna do? talk about it? hell fucking no.
it's why stiles being derek's secret keeper is such a fascinating choice this show made. stiles learns all of derek's darkest secrets such as his involvement with kate and what happened to paige without derek having to explicitly tell him.
but derek knows stiles knows.
derek letting that lie and stiles not only never telling anyone else but never really confronting derek over these things is an act of trust.
anyway none of these characters were really whiny. not even jackson. they're just traumatized and that makes people uncomfortable.
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*accidentally realizes i’ve been overusing a random phrase a lot* where did this come from. who did this to me
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The way I squealed!!!! Cannot wait for it to get to my part of Europe! 💜💜💜
HEARTSTOPPER VOLUME 5 COVER REVEAL
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😍😍😍
History, huh?
The love story of Prince Henry and former FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz has made history. From Cakegate to the Royal Wedding, the documentary mini-series delves deep into their relationship.
Thanks for the template, @seungnm.
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I don't even know Young Royals, but that's a resounding YES
Heartstopper fanfic(?)
I have this Heartstopper fanfic idea that's a crossover between the "big 3" of gay media: Heartstopper, Red, White & Royal Blue, and Young Royals.
But I dunno if I should write it.
Reblog for yes, like/scroll for no?
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ok, i have to say this before i say anything else about the rwrb movie:
when the book came out, it was groundbreaking. it was one of the first true queer rom coms. this movie is now even more groundbreaking.
yes, some depth and detail was lost from the book, but that’s bound to happen in any adaptation. but before we complain about that, let’s ask ourselves:
exactly how many fluffy, fairy tale, sexy, funny, sugary, queer romance movies are there? you could probably count them all on one hand, and most of them probably aren’t major studio releases.
queer people deserve silly romcom movies too. queer people deserve to see themselves in tender, uncensored intimate moments on screen too. and, correct me if i’m wrong, but i’m pretty sure this is the first time a major motion picture has explicitly mentioned truvada/PrEP and included a conversation between a parent and child about safe queer sex. like…queer people don’t get shit like this, and now we do. and that’s a big deal.
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Every word true and I love the movie with all my heart for all my reasons. AND, I love the book with all my heart too for all my reasons, that are completely different and the same.
Red, White and Royal Blue (2023) + text posts
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