All my fan and original fictions are public, along with a few awesome posts about Amanda Tapping. In time, all my graphics and icon posts will be re-done and made public. There will be an index, it will be OCD heaven. In time my 100 things challenges will be public, there will be an index, I'm not even kidding.
As for the little about me at the beginning of these things that will come soon.
Dark Summer (2015, USA) [7] Death at a Funeral (2007, UK) [9] Evil Dead (2013, USA) [7.5] Final Girl 2015, USA) [8] Haunter (2013, USA) [5] Intruders (2015, USA) [7.5] Nightmare on Elm Street, A (2010, USA) [7] Severance (2006, UK) [8]
Beholder 1 Hour 18 Minutes Cooking Academy 2 hours Dishonoured 20 Minutes Elder Scrolls Online, The 175 Hours Epic Battle Fantasy 4 24 Minutes Evoland 1 Hour 48 Minutes Forest, The 1 Hour 6 Minutes Fifa 17 TBA Massive Chalice 1 Hour 48 Minutes Mini Metro 1 Hour 54 Minutes Orwell: 42 Minutes Project Highrise 28 Hours and 55 Minutes Resident Evil 7: 4 Hours Shadow Tactics 40 Minutes
Favourite Music of 2017 (iTunes, YouTube)
Against the Current Avril Lavigne AWOLNATION Blackbriar Celldweller Dance with the Dead Enigma Globus Linkin Park - Heavy The Chainsmokers Arch Enemy Oceans - Paradise
Title:I've got you under my skin Fandom:Sanctuary Characters:Helen/Nikola Rating:PG Word Count:367 Summary:Set during the last scene of 4x09 "Chimera" (No spoilers)
She turned to face him. It was hot. He was staring at her and it almost made her uncomfortable. The brave Helen Magnus - brought down by a mere look. Her lips parted and her breath was shallow. Time seemed to have stopped, or at least slowed down more than one would imagine was humanly possible. Her tongue darted out across her teeth and along the bottom of her top lip. She bit her lip. He continued to stare and she felt a heat that had nothing to do with the temperature.
Her chest rose and fell as she took several shallow breaths, and he heard. “Why, Helen. I do seem to have an effect on you tonight.” He moved, ever so slightly towards her. His hand hovered beside her thigh, but did not touch it, and she thought she might cry out at any moment, urging him to do what he wished. His sense of restraint tore at her own, and it began to break. She shifted forward, ever so slightly, but the leather on the couch gave her away. Nikola tilted his head, “more wine?” A roguish grin crossed his face, but he held himself in check, much better than she seemed to be able to at this moment. “Please,” her mouth was dry and she bit on her lip once more to keep from making any noise. “Nikola,” his name spilled from her lips like honey and she caught her breath once more.
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and she couldn’t bear to look away. He passed her the wine and she held it tightly, her fingers tense on the fragile glass. “Don’t break that now Helen,” he was playing with her. She didn’t know what to say to him, and the tension was becoming unbearable. She needed to regain control. She looked away although it took a few moments to do so. She closed her eyes and took a breath. Raising the glass to her lips, her grip now more relaxed, she took a sip and placed the wine back onto the table. She looked back at him, a smile now on her face. “Oh, I won’t Nikola, I won’t.”
Title:Maybe there's hope Fandom:The X Files Characters:Scully, Mulder Rating:PG Word Count:310 Summary:AU. Scully searches for Mulder. Centre's on the vital concept of hope.
Maybe there’s hope. It was all she could utter, the smallest of phrases, yet, with the largest of repercussions. A small hint in the darkness, a tiny flicker of light to wash away the fears and the frets: hope was such a concept, such a vital emotion that one could not survive without it. It was written on the walls and in the hearts of the men and women who fought and died on that day; and all the days to come. Wars waged not with swords or armour but with guns and ammo; with knowledge and information.
The sign lit up through the darkness and the musty street before her ushered her closer to her goal. He was there, and that was her hope. Bombed out buildings and signs of life once lived but now extinguished followed her and she walked with purpose as if trying to outrun them; to outrun everything they stood for. Such cataclysmic loss of life could not be ignored for long. The street was dark, and the fog was thick; but in the darkness that one sign lit up like that small beacon of hope she knew was inside her, and that must be inside him, too.
Her shoes clicked and clacked along the upturned sidewalk as she passed countless homes, lost to the war, the war of information. When she arrived at the door she found herself conflicted, and the small glimmer of hope she held onto so dearly wavered inside her; threatening to extinguish. A hand reached up to hold the cross that sat at her neck and a sigh could be heard from her lips. She raised a hand and knocked, hard and with purpose as the flame of hope grew once more. It was hope that drove her forward, and it was hope that would find him, dead or alive.