shaddowsong

[shaddowsong]

Every light fantasy story needs

a talking teacup that gives terrible advice

a forest that hums lullabies

a bakery that bakes memories into tea cakes

a prince who turns into a frog on purpose

a moonbeam that you can fold into origami

a pond that reflects your happiest memories

a rainbow that you can climb into the clouds

a scarf that changes colour based on nearby magic

a rocking chair that tells stories from your childhood

a bookshop where book characters sometimes step out for a cuppa

a sleepy coastal town where the sea leaves gifts on your doorstep

Every dark fantasy story needs

a cloak that hides your emotions, not your body

a library where the books whisper secrets and the bookshelves reassemble themselves into a maze the more you want to seek a book

a map that leads you to a different foe every time

a lantern that only lights when someone tells the truth

a door that only opens if you promise never to return

a throne that turns its user into what the kingdom truly deserves

a river that flows with memories instead of water

a sword that hungers, not for blood, but for guilt

a child’s lullaby that summons something watching from the woods

Every academia story needs

all nighters fuelled by caffeine

a rumour about a professor who disappeared halfway through a semester

fighting for the last copy of a textbook

racing each other to find the best supervisor

verbal sparring on question sets

whispered debates in libraries

a mentor who’s either wildly inspiring or borderline unhinged

one student who always sits in the same spot until one day, they don’t

a group project that goes horrifically wrong

philosophising at 3 a.m. in corridors and staircases

the sudden realisation you’ve been working in the library for 12 hours straight and haven’t eaten

a changing quote written daily on the whiteboard that no one claims

Every romance story needs

a lapse of judgement, then an apology

a pet that goes astray--they go find it together

a shared umbrella in the rain

an fight in a kitchen that turns into dancing

a letter never meant to be opened--but it is

a late-night walk where neither wants to say goodbye

a borrowed sweater that still smells like them

a plant they raise together

a reunion at a train station or airport terminal

Every horror story needs

the ghost of your enemy

bloody footprints that lead into a desolate building

a voice that mimics your own, but whispers from another room

a knock at the door when no one should know you’re there

a journal that ends mid-sentence

a smell of rot with no source

a shadow that lingers long after the person is gone

a warning scrawled on the ceiling in your own handwriting

a room that’s colder than the rest of the house, no matter the season

Every historical story needs

a letter that never reached its destination, until now

a secret stitched into the lining of a coat

a forbidden romance

a family heirloom with a history only the family knows about

a moment where history happens in the background while the characters live their quiet lives

an encounter with a real historical figure

an ordinary object that survives through generations

a meal shared between enemies during a truce

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Update

I'm finally home where I can actually write and do what I want. 200 words done on the next chapter of YHLAG. It's small, but it's a start, and there are still six days left in in February.

[shaddowsong]

Updates on new you hit like a girl chapter?

Unfortunately, my Dad died unexpectedly the day after Thanksgiving. I've spent the last two months helping my mother clean and pack her house. I sincerely hope that I can publish a new chapter in February, but I can't promise anything until my time is my own again.

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Progress update #2

Family emergency. Posting might be a little spotty for the next couple of weeks.

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do you ever re-read your own wips like 'damn the bitch that wrote this oughta finish it'

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Writers should NOT feel guilty about:

Skipping a day of writing.

Not having a perfect first draft.

Partaking in sinister, arcane rituals for inspiration.

Working at their own pace.

Enlisting demons and/or helpful spirits to aid them with editing.

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It's such an amazing feeling when someone picks up on something in your writing that you 100% intended but didn't think people would notice. Like, YES!! My writing properly conveyed the thing it was supposed to!!! You are so awesome for noticing that!!! I am so awesome for writing that!!! I feel so good about my story now!!!!

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🧑‍🎨 James Lewis

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Status Update #1

You Hit Like a Girl 25 - Research done, 500 words

Hufflepuff Hermione- 417 words

Old Hermione/Lavender - 2112 words

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From a dark place

Fanart for @ellorypurebloodculture 's story from a dark place (where hope ceased to shine)

If you like femslash, young Minerva McGonagall, or making sure the train wreck that was Tobias/Eileen, this fic is for you. If Severus exists, he will never be neglected or abused.

[shaddowsong]

True/False game. Make an assumption about me in my ask and I’ll tell you if its true or false. Go.

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My oil painting of Lakeview Manor from Skyrim!

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Illustrated Drabble #1

“You made it,” Ginny breathed, the beginnings of a wicked smirk on her face as she brought Hermione’s hand closer to her mouth.

Hermione flushed, still not quite used to this. Ginny had always been free with her affection when it came to those she loved, but being a close friend and being her wife were entirely different. She was still quite furious about the circumstances that lead to them being suddenly and irrevocably bound to each other, but perhaps it wasn’t so bad.

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I'm so sorry op but it sounded so much like an ode and...

i.

four strong

strapping, beautiful

lads took my life

apart piece by piece

with steady hands

I loved them

I fed them slice

after slice, the hum of

their voices slipped 

through me

a warm, familiar bliss

until they left

the ache was instant

my moving 

lads come back

to me you’re so strong

and so well trained

with heavy lifting

ii.

I miss them 

my moving men

so handsome 

beautiful

efficient

each strong movement 

tight and neat 

like the click of a minute

wrapping me up with care

like a rickety piece of furniture

they loved 

my humble offering

they knew how to drive

the big, big truck

come back to me

my moving men

iii.

moving

men please come

move me

in your big strong arms

comply

with local safety

regulations and the company’s

values. 

iv.

one of the men had

a dangling earring and

a stud so I told him

I liked them he 

told me about the beginning

a lost stud and the girl who

gave him a pink duck 

to hang in its place

fuzzy, fantastical

he didn’t give

one single

fuck

about the laughter that failed

to pull him down

now one

always dangles

delicate

alluring

am I supposed to be normal

about this

this delicate, swaying thing

the raw strength

the hands placed

one by one

help me, my sweet lads

I’m bisexual

Hired a moving company and they sent four strong, strapping, beautiful lads to my house to disassemble my furniture and move all my things. I loved them. I got them pizza. They told me moving company gossip. I missed them one minute after they left. My moving lads. Come back to me. You're so strong and so well trained in safe lifting