I just saw an ad for the new series Silos. There was an image of someone in an environmental suit collapsing in a barren landscape and I was like, wait, I’ve read this story. But I thought I had read a fanfic…
So I google Silos AO3 and a Destiel fanfic by anactoria called Clean Air comes back. Which is what I read.
So I read a fanfic like 9 years ago that was so good my brain has that scene burned into it and it was based on the Wool trilogy by Hugh Howey (which I’ve not read). And now Silos is based on the Wool trilogy.
Fanfic.
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reject canon, embrace delusion
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rip to you guys but i love assembling ikea furniture its so fun its like legos
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random bellamy blake [3/∞]
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"you can't ship that, it'll never be canon!"
look, when I was your age, we shipped characters who never even met in canon. uphill. both ways. in the snow.
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When you find a fanfic writer you like:
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Rolling stop
very specific tag game: if you are from the US and can drive, pls reblog and say where you’re from and what you call it when someone sorta pauses at a stop sign without fully stopping all the way
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Ive come up with the phrase "blorbo-in-law" which is a fictional character who isn't, like, YOUR blorbo from YOUR shows but it is your mutual's blorbo who you nevertheless have developed strong opinions about due to long term dash exposure
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“Wait! What is that?” Pansy lowered her sunglasses, fixing her eyes on Draco’s wrist.
“Nothing.” He clapped his hand over it, shooting her a warning look.
She sat back in her seat, smiling artificially at Lady Greengrass across the rose garden before turning back to him. “Is that a tattoo?” she hissed.
“It’s a tattoo,” he confirmed, removing his palm to admire it. “White ink.”
“What does it say?”
He hesitated. “It says, unpath’d water, undream’d shores.”
She stared at him blankly.
Leaning back, he undid the top button of his shirt to cool his flushed throat. His gaze darted across the bustling yard. Then, satisfied nobody was watching them, he said, “It’s from a play. The Winter’s Tale.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are such a swot.”
He combed his hair from his eyes, grinning sheepishly.
A year later, Pansy discovered the real meaning behind the tattoo.
She’d been admiring Draco and Granger’s new flat, definitely not snooping or anything, when she came across a book titled The Winter’s Tale. It rang an oddly familiar bell, so she pulled it out and peeked inside.
On the title page, a personalized note in elegant black ink read: This was my mother’s copy. Her favourite passages are highlighted with her notes in the margin. Though she’s gone, I hope she teaches you something new. Love, Hermione.
Pansy felt like she was imposing on something intimate by holding the book in her hands. So naturally, she began flipping through the pages. That’s how she found it, highlighted bright yellow: To unpath’d waters, undream’d shores, most certain.
Next to it, Hermione’s mother had scrawled: but what if?
A year ago, at High Society Tea, Draco had still been betrothed to Astoria. Granger’s name hadn’t even slipped from his lips until well after he’d discovered a way to dissolve the betrothal. And here Pansy thought Draco was shite at keeping secrets from her.
Shaking her head, she slipped the book back on the shelf, suppressing her smile. “Sneaky bastard.”
(335 words, prompt from twitter: tattoos)
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Marvel Comics #1000: We’re Calling Him Ben
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me @ myself: haha u should study now its like 12 am
idiot, also me: wait but remember that verrry good fic u read a long time ago haha yesss u should read it its not gonna be different but i think it would be a good idea
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