#but it's written now and my inbox is all cleared out for the new year wooo!

[emyn-arnens]

No need to do this because I already got one, but if it inspires, any character(s) + Angband (and area) + 'shadows of madness and despair'. (You did say darker ones...)

An age later, here this is! An AU with Finrod and Sauron in Angband, ~700 words | AO3.

Finrod stood in the dark of his cell, searching. A hushed song fell from his cracked lips. Its notes buried themselves deep within the stones and mortar of his cell, probing for fissures and points of weakness.

In whispered words, he sang of loosening, of breaking, of splitting, of falling free, of light piercing the shadows. The stones trembled at his voice, and his chains shivered against his skin. Dust trickled over his fingertips, pressed against the stone wall behind him. He scratched at a line of mortar with his fingernail as he sang, and a spray of dust fell upon his hands.

He sang of the lashing rain throwing down great rocks in mountain passes, of the flash of lightning cleaving mighty trees in two, of the thunder of cavalry rattling the mountainsides, of the howling of wind splitting strong walls asunder. The stones of his cell danced and quivered in response, and dust and shards of stone fell like rain, biting into his bare skin.

Finrod sang louder, until the stones shook with both the power of his song and the ringing of his voice.

And then, in an instant, the stones fell silent and still, and his voice died in his throat.

Shadows, darker than those he already stood in, gathered in a corner of his cell, and from them came a voice: “Thou hast great power in thy voice, but it will not avail thee.” The shadows twisted and coiled, and from them stepped his captor.

Finrod bore Sauron’s mocking appraisal in silence. 

Sauron circled him, the shadows following him like the swish of a cloak. He tipped a clawed finger beneath Finrod’s chin and looked deep into his eyes, searching. His own eyes burned like the hearts of embers.

Shadows and whispers pressed upon Finrod’s mind, probing, prying. He held his mind silent and still.

Sauron tilted his head. He lifted his hand to Finrod’s face, studying it with appreciation, and the slow stroke of his fingers down the side of Finrod’s face was like a caress, even as the tips of his claws drew beads of blood from Finrod’s skin. “Wast thou a king? Thou hast a kingly bearing.”

Finrod did not speak.

Sauron gripped his chin and leaned closer until his breath stirred Finrod’s hair, lying lank against his neck and shoulders. “Thy tongue is better suited to song than silence,” he murmured. His words skittered over Finrod’s skin like the grazing of claws. He released Finrod and stepped back, a smile playing upon his lips. “Sing for me, little king.”

Finrod did not speak.

Sauron’s smile spread. “If thou dost not wish to sing of thy own doing, I can aid thee in loosening thy tongue.” 

The shadows that clung to him peeled away, and in an instant, they seized Finrod’s throat and forced open his jaw, and a cry tore from his lips.

“Sing.” The command filled the cell until the stones trembled.

Finrod’s voice tore from his throat despite himself, and he sang. He sang until his tongue was thick with dust, until his lips cracked and bled, and until his voice was no more. He sang until his limbs shook and trembled, and he sagged in his chains, utterly spent.

Only then did the shadows about his throat relent and slink back to their master.

Sauron cupped Finrod’s face in his hand, and his eyes burned into Finrod’s. “I will learn thy true name in time, and thou wilt come to do my bidding of thine own will.”

Finrod’s tongue was too heavy to respond.

Sauron brushed his fingers over Finrod’s lips and then smiled, sudden and sharp. “Dost thou thirst?” The sound of falling water filled the cell, and a rivulet of water trickled from a crack in the wall mere feet away from Finrod.

Sauron vanished as quickly as he had appeared, and Finrod stood alone in his cell once more. He strained at his chains, but though he strained until his limbs burned, the trickle of water evaded his reach, and he collapsed against the wall more weary and parched than he had been.

The rivulet of water disappeared. Lilting laughter echoed about the stone walls of his cell. How foolish thou art, little king.

And all through the night came the sound of gently falling rain, though not a single drop fell upon Finrod's skin.

[itallcomesfromhoney]

just friends | kirishima eijirou x bakugo katsuki x reader

synopsis: friends to lovers ft. fake dating

note: ahh! thank you so much for all the love on the teaser, this is the first fic i’ve actually written, not entirely sure where it’s going yet but we’ll figure that one out. i wanted some context to these three so we're starting with a first year throwback before we go straight in, let me know if you'd like more of their friendship years sprinkled in. i'm so sorry for the delay, feedback is always appreciated and feel free to pop into my inbox any time ✨

wordcount: 1.6k

chapter one

“Outta my way, nerds!”

You feel pressure between your shoulder blades and you stumble forward into the freshly red headed boy in front of you. Eijirou Kirishima catches you by your forearms and raises his dark eyebrows at whoever it was that pushed you, “That wasn’t very manly.” You follow his gaze to see a blonde figure, almost out of sight across the cement plaza already and a small black cloud appeared above your head at the sight. “What is his issue” You scowled, tiny drops of rain spit out into your immediate area, accompanied by low grumbles of thunder and Kirishima waves his hand through the thick cloud, dispersing it back into the atmosphere. “C’mon, Stormcloud, let’s find our class before you flood us all.”

You and Kirishima had gone to middle school together, quickly becoming friends and applying for UA together alongside Mina Ashido, your mutual pink friend. The three of you had managed to get not only onto the same course but into the same class, by some miracle. The pair of you walk side by side, attempting to navigate the corridors of the new school, but mostly just taking everything in. You marvel at the upperclassmen loitering near their classrooms, you can’t help but to daydream about that being you someday. Your face heats as a pretty girl with long lavender hair waves a hand at you and you quickly face the floor as she giggles to her friends, “First years are just so cute”

Eventually you both find the room marked '1-A' and slide into the class behind a small freckled boy with green curls that you vaguely recognised from the entrance exam, “…put a stick up your ass?” Your ears pricked as you recognised the voice from earlier and the room darkened as another storm cloud formed above your own head. “You’re totally joking” you grumbled at Kirishima, eyes locking onto the blonde head of hair that had shoved you earlier, at least it looked like it wasn’t just you he had beef with. Kirishima shook his head and tugged you away by your shoulders, “What are the odds”

“Whoa sick cloud” You snapped your eyes off of the angry looking boy, now arguing with a tall dark haired boy to look at yet another blonde, this time with black stripes near his eyes and a wide friendly smile. “Do you, like, make that?” He asked you, staring at the grey mass rolling above you head. You shook your head to clear my previous thoughts and the cloud dissipated, replacing itself with a warm breeze that ruffled your hair before stilling. “Oh! Um yeah, kind of?” You stammered, rubbing the back of your neck, “I can’t control it very well yet though” “Kaminari Denki, your quirk is so cool!” You introduced yourself to the ball of sunshine in front of you and Kirishima did the same. “So, what’s your quirk?” Kirishima asked the new boy and you half listened to the pair chatting as you scanned the rest of the classroom.

You recognised a fair few people from the exams, you realised, not just the small green boy, who now seemed to be locked in a tense conversation with the scary blonde. There was a small brunette girl, bouncing slightly on her toes who you were sure had some sort of levitation quirk, maybe? And oh god, there was a tiny boy with shiny purple spheres attached to his head with a spooky looking smile on his face who you distinctly remember harassing a group of girls at the exams. You spotted Mina, already making friends with a tall brunette girl a few rows down and sent her a wave before a huge yellow tube seemingly appeared at the front of the room, “Welcome, to UA’s hero course.”

— Months Later —

The Class A dorms were buzzing with activity, chatter bouncing around the hallways as everyone got ready for the school dance. “I can’t believe you actually convinced me to wear this stupid thing!” Bakugo scoffed, looking down at his suit and tugging roughly on his tie. Kirishima eyed him and laughed, “Bakubro, c’mon! It’s a dance! You can’t wear a suit without a tie.” “I’ll do what I want, shitty hair”

The boys’ banter was interrupted as the elevator opened, revealing you wrapped in a baby blue silk slip and fiddling with a small piece of hair that wouldn’t quite sit in place. “Wow! You look great Y/N!” Eijirou gasped, running a hand through his red hair. You smile at the red head and smooth down the fabric of your dress, “Thanks, Eijirou! You boys look nice” “Thanks!” Eijirou beamed, looking over at Katsuki for his opinion, only to be met with a frown. “Tsk” Katsuki made a noise of dissatisfaction. “Suit’s too tight…” Eijirou rolled his eyes at the blonde boy, “I doubt it is. It looks the same as it always-” “Shut up!” Katsuki’s scowl deepened, muttering under his breath.

You frown at Bakugo, “Is it the tie?” You ask the blonde, concerned. You knew he’d apparently been sensitive to tight clothes around his neck since his encounter with the sludge villain, not that he’d ever really admit it. “Don't get why these damn things have to be so tight.” Katsuki looked away and grunted to himself. “Hey man. You sure you're alright?” Kirishima asked, “I’m fine. Just shut up.” You stepped forward to tug on Bakugo’s tie, loosening it slightly and popping his top button open, “Is that a bit better?” Katsuki was caught off-guard by the sudden tug, but let out a small breath when he felt the tie loosen up. He turned around to face you. “Thanks or whatever” He nodded his head once, his scowl softening just a bit. You smile at him and step backwards, checking yourself over in the reflection of the large window in the common area, “Let’s go then, we can’t keep everyone else waiting” You joke, moving to leave the dorms.

The two boys fell in line behind you as your trio made their way towards the main hall, Kirishima nudged Bakugo once as they stepped into the crowd of students. “Looks like your mood is better.” Katsuki huffed in response, crossing his arms. “Whatever. I just wanna get this crap over with already” “Lighten up, Katsuki, you might even have fun” You tease, Kirishima snickered “She’s right, y'know? You’re just stubborn” “Whatever, shitty hair. I’m not having fun.” Bakugo looked away, but couldn’t hide the small smile on his face. Eijirou sighed, shaking his head but smiling back at his friend. “Eijirou and I will just have fun without you then!” You joke, grabbing Kirishima’s hand and tugging him behind you into the hall. Eijirou barked a signature laugh and let you drag him forward as Bakugo rolled his eyes. “Hey! Wait up, nerds!” Katsuki stepped forward and began following the two of you at a leisurely pace, trying his best to act stony.

As soon as you stepped into the hall you smiled, looking at all the decorations and scanning the crowd for some of your other friends and classmates. Spotting them across the room, you tug Eijirou over, you knew Katsuki would catch up eventually. The theme of the year was 'Under the Sea', the room swathed in blues and bright corals, sunny spotlights dancing around the walls and briefly you wondered if Gang Orca or Selkie had had anything to do with it. You hear a pitched squeal as you and Kirishima make your way to your classmates and you let go of his hand as Mina tackles you into a hug, “Hi! You look so gorgeous!” You feel your face warm as you thank her, repeating the comment back to her. Mina was decked out in a soft green dress, the fabric shimmering against her pink skin.

Bakugo had chosen this moment to catch up to the group, an unimpressed look on his tanned face. “You know, you could’ve waited for me you two…” He grumbles and you shoot a wink to him over your shoulder, “Where’s the fun in that?” The blonde huffs but otherwise doesn’t respond and Kirishima shoulders the other boy lightly, “You could smile, you know” he teases. Bakugo grits his teeth and looks away, fully intending to ignore his friend, but he eyes the crowd of classmates forming around you, watching carefully.

“Hi! You all look great!” You smile, spotting some of the other boys heading over. Mina, forever the gossip, lights up as she spots a particular classmate and pulls him over, Todoroki’s own baby blue tie shines on his chest, “Todoroki! You two totally match!” It was a complete accident, but his tie matched your dress perfectly, the fabrics looking as if they were pulled from the same reel, you doubted it though; it was likely that his tie cost at least triple what your dress did. The half and half boy blushes and agrees, smiling a little “Y/N, you look nice” he compliments.

Bakugo rolled his eyes at the interaction, “Blue for under the sea? How original.” You turn and frown at the blonde, “Don’t be rude, Bakugo.” You hiss glaring at him. Bakugo scoffs but says nothing else and Kirishima looks at the taller boy with his eyebrows pinched, “Why didn’t we think to wear blue” he whines; Bakugo glares at him.

You chat with the group for a while before pulling away from the group, moving off to be with Kirishima and Bakugo. “What’s wrong with you?” You raise an eyebrow at the blonde boy’s scowl. “Nothing.” He frowned, not looking at you as he crossed his arms again. “Were we supposed to wear blue?” Kirishima asks you, still pouting, you tilt your head in confusion “Why would you?” “Don’t be a dumbass” Bakugo mutters, and you’re not entirely sure if it’s directed at you or Eijirou. You shake the weird comment off, “Well if you’re going to be grumpy all night, I’ll just dance with, Eijirou.” For the second time that evening, you wind your hand into Kirishima’s and tug him towards the dancefloor and for the second time that evening, the muscular boy lets you.

--------

✨taglist: @abadbitchblogs @/sixxze (i haven't been able to tag you!) @/I0ren12 (I can't tag you either, I'm so sorry!)✨

[meraki-yao]

Ok I got four asks in my inbox about the new Nick interview and I'm actually mad. I'm actually livid and exasperated because I've been getting and answering similar asks over and over again, and yet people still come to me with the same statement and the same conviction EVEN AFTER I POINTED OUT EVERY FUCKING FACT THAT CONTRADICTS IT.

Do you really need a 19-year-old to teach you reading comprehension and media literacy?

Ok, fine.

Statement One: Nick doesn't appreciate RWRB, he's brushing it aside, which is why it wasn't mentioned in the New York Times

One: Editorials don't always portray the actual thoughts or agenda of the interviewee.

Unlike a video interview or a podcast interview where we can hear the whole conversation directly from Nick with his voice, and even if there are cuts and edits we can pick it up via visual or audio continuity, in a written editorial the only thing we can rely on is the writer's words, or in other words, the writer's paraphrase or quotation of what Nick said to him. This gives much bigger room for any changes or manipulation in content because we have nothing else to reference.

It is clear that in the past three editorials, the writer or the magazine itself has deliberately demeaning and devaluing RWRB. In NY Magazine, it was only mentioned in one line and degraded to "a queer take on a common straight trope" (see the choice of word "president's daughter"), with the implication being at its core, it's a straight story/ reliant on past straight stories to be interesting; Hunger Magazine calls it fujoshi-pleasing (fujoshi: Japanese slang, denoting how a straight woman who enjoys fictional gay content is "rotten", too ruined to be married, an insult to both the audience/fans and the movie itself ); and this time New York Magazine didn't even mention RWRB, when let's be honest, it's Nick's biggest breakout role.

"Once Is Chance, Twice is Coincidence, Third Time's A Pattern" this is deliberate. I can't say what the agenda is, my guess is some extent of latent homophobia, but it's clear that this is a fucking pattern. In fact, besides the hidden agenda of devaluing RWRB, these editorials show another hidden agenda, but that's something for a later day. PM me id you want to now, I won't discuss that one on my public platform yet.

Again, there is so much more room for twisting and hiding words in a written editorial. In all the video interviews Nick did, especially in the UK, when has he ever avoided a question about RWRB? When has he ever not shown gratitude towards the project?

Two: In all video evidence that can't be manipulated, that clearly shows Nick's own thoughts which not influenced by any other party, he has made it clear that he adores RWRB.

Why else would he sign books during the M&G London premiere, going as far as to stay behind after the event just to sign books? Same with the LA M&G premiere and TIOY premiere: those were promotions for other projects, he had a valid reason to refuse to sign the RWRB books and posters, but he didn't, always signing with a big smile on his face, even playfully signing on Taylor's face. He said it himself in his Instagram post, and I quote: "The love that Henry has received has been one of the most heartwarming things to watch. It's been difficult to not talk about him. So thank you for seeing him for all he is. He was a joy to bring to life." There's your proof, directly from the man himself.

Statement Two: Nick's not interested in doing a sequel, he said he's done playing princes and he's done playing romantic leads

One: "Done playing princes" doesn't mean literally done playing princes, it means he wants to try more roles and not be stuck with only being known as the "prince" guy. (even though he's literally a prince lol)

Plus, he said that after Robert, but then Henry came along and he was attracted to Henry as a character with his scared but loving heart. He doesn't just view Henry as a prince, he views Henry as a complex, delicate person who so happens to be a prince. Him saying he's done playing princes means in the future, he doesn't really want another royal on his filmography, but this doesn't mean he doesn't want to continue Henry's story. With the given context, namely asking him about future projects he wants to take up, "he's done playing princes" and "he doesn't want to play Henry anymore" are not mutually inclusive.

Two: "Done playing romantic leads" means he wants to try new things and take up new projects that aren't romance films.

This doesn't include the continuation of already established characters i.e. sequels, this just means if he were to take up brand new projects, he wants to try something else. Sequels are inherently different from new projects because again, sequels are based on already established characters.

Three: He said several times ON VIDEO that he'd be in for a sequel

In this one, when asked if he'd be up for a sequel, he said, and I quote "Look, I think with any opportunity of doing a sequel, I think, you know, the script has to be right. But obviously, it was so lovely to see how many people it touched and having that resonance is incredibly important to me, so, yeah. Of course."

In this one, when asked if they have had conservation on a potential sequel, he said, and again I quote: "Yeah, I mean definitely had conversations. I think we're all on the same page in the sense that, you know, the script needs to be right, and sort of all the different components need to be right because we made something that has such a positive effect and I think the last thing you'd wanna do is ruin that or take that in a way, so, you know, the conversations are definitely being had."

And there are more videos from red carpet interviews that I can't be bothered to find right now but he says more or less the same thing.

(look I even transcribed it)

Not only is he on board with a sequel, he's also being careful about it to make sure once they do get to making it, it's something good. He's on board, and he values it. And again, that's directly from him.

We have a phrase in Chinese: 斷章取義, meaning "breaking off a small part of an article and deriving the meaning from that single part" That's what so many of you, in particular, the people who come to my inbox with the sentiments of the above-mentioned statement are doing. Please, use critical thinking and look at the whole picture. Stop making judgments from the surface of one source.

Tagging my friends @alittlefrenchtree and @myteavsricochet because it looks like they've been getting the same things I got

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

I woke up this morning and saw I had a message in my inbox on AO3, presumably about by new fic, and was excited to see the feedback.

When I read what they wrote it was a small comment that said "stop using sudowrite".

Had no idea what that even means, so I had to look it up and found out it's some form of a writing AI.

Absolutely fuming.

I want to make something abundantly clear right now:

I have not been hand writing and editing all of my own stories, hundreds of pages worth of personally hand written or hand typed content for the past 16 years, only to get accused of using any form of lazy ass writing AI now.

This is what I love to do. For fun.

I put in a lot of unpaid time, creativity and energy into my writing and editing. The only thing I ask for in return is participation from the fandoms I love, be it via thoughtful feedback or valid criticisms.

But this is neither of those things. This is just an outright, baseless lie against the art that I have worked so hard to make myself, and I won't be undermined or discredited.

There's anger, and then there's whatever space I am occupying well past it right now.

It's infuriating to pour hours of my love, thought and creativity into original content only to have someone come out of nowhere and try to tell me I've been having an AI do it, especially 16 years deep.

Bitch please.

I also found out that app came out in 2020 . . . As I mentioned, I published my first K/S story in 2008 as Ruby JW on the K/S archives, and my first fanfic on fanfic.net was published in 2007 as luigi_is_stellar.

I invite anyone to peruse my decades-long collection of independent content that I have single-handedly accomplished well before such an app even existed, then come back to me and try to tell me that what I do here isn't authentic.

I don't usually get spicy, but when it comes to the art I spend hours writing and drawing independently with my own blood sweat and tears, yeah. I'm going to get spicy.

I do far too much unpaid work out of passion and love for this fandom to have such a serious accusation flung my way out of nowhere.

It's the first time in my 16 years of writing for this fandom that I've ever been accused of plagiarism, and you best trust and believe that I don't take that accusation lightly. I work too damn hard to let someone discredit the work I do personally in such a baseless manner.

Anyway, that was discouraging AF. I am boggled to learn that AI writing is even a thing, no less someone coming out of the woodwork to try to accuse me of using it 16 years into story publishing when I literally teach academic honesty and writing ethics in my line of paid work as an English professional.

Genuinely: Do you know who you're talking to?

A bit of background on me:

I come from a not-so-wealthy family who could not afford to pay to put me through school -- I paid for that all on my own. I had to earn my University English degree, one of four University degrees I hold on my own work and pay alone, without so much as a tutoring session or handout from home.

Not once would I have jeopardized everything I worked so hard and paid for out of my own pocket as a poor ass uni student working two jobs and doing night classes just to phone it in plagiarizing, not on one ounce of my work.

That was all me.

I've handwritten 3 MLA essays in under three hour exams BACK TO BACK, immediately followed by back-to-back Biology exams & a final lab where I ALSO had to write multiple essays and switch from MLA to APA mode within the span of 6 hours.

Those were all bound in handwritten yellow booklets well before we ever had Google Docs, Grammarly, formatting suggestions, or even regularly brought/had access to laptops in UNI. I did my work by hand.

I earned my degrees in English and Biology AT THE SAME TIME before I even turned 24. I earned a double major handwriting my own work papers like my life depended on it, and you actually think I'm about to phone it in now?

Step to me like that again, young blood. I ain't the one.😂

Anyway, I digress.

Ya girl ain't here to fight BC y'all know I tend to be very easygoing, full of humour, and I love to joke around in the fandom. I'm pretty wide open to opposing opinions or even criticisms. But this is unfounded slander, and I won't be taking that on the chin.

When it comes to my work, I take that very seriously, and I don't play around. My late father once told me that "The work you do and the degrees you earn are yours and yours alone, they can never take that education from you." I live by that sentiment, and have done so by putting forth honest work.

Be it paid or unpaid work, it's my work. Periodt.

It is an unfathomably disheartening and insulting message to receive as someone who writes all their own stuff themselves, draws all their own fanart themselves, does their own photo edits themselves, edits their writing themselves, and has never even used so much as a single outside beta reader/editor for my work. Not once. The art, the writing, the editing -- It's all me.

Bottom line:

Say you do or don't like my work, that's cash money and we good, whether it's your cup of tea or not.

Butt know that it is my work.

I will not put all of this free time, effort and love into my work only to be accused of lazily ripping the content that I have spent hours writing and personally editing from somewhere else.

And on that note, consider my PSA rant ended.

[harrysmmm]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧

Fanfiction: The Relics of Hogwarts (CLICK THE LINK BEFORE READING THIS)

Draco malfoy x Y/N Riddle (f!reader)

A/N: First chapter of the fanfic! It took me a whole week to write this, and a whole week to create the plot of the story. This chapter sets the tone for what is to come - more draco and the reader's interactions will happen in the following chapters. I am beyond excited to be posting this, I hope you guys enjoy it - I really had the best time writing it (it helps me deal with reality which I very much thank). Also, two things before you go and read it: one, my mother tongue is not English, once again, so forgive me for any mistake or wrong word that I might've used; two, every paragraph or conversation that is written in italic is a flashback (I think it was clear but just to be hella clear). That's everything for me to say... also you don't know the amount of research I've had to do in order to be precise on every description, family line, Hogwarts system... it's crazy the number of tabs I've opened during the creation of all of it. Last thing, I have never done this before but if you'd like to be on the taglist for each time I post a new chapter, put it in the comments or write me an inbox and I'll gladly do it! I'm going to try to do my best and post a chapter every week - two would be ideal. I tend to write pretty long chapters so it takes me a lot of time to finish them. I'm going to stop writing, this is becoming addictive. Love you, this fic is for all of you out there.

W/C: 4.3K

masterlist here

Summer was about to come to an end. It was pouring rain in the Scottish mountain range; a wild, twisted, ravaging storm that left a lifeless valley at its steps. Someone was rushing through the vast hallways, crackling footsteps as he was approaching the stone gargoyle. He whispered in a low, hoarse voice: “Cockroach clusters”. A stoned spiraled staircase revealed itself behind the statue, he marched them upstairs.

At the top, a wooden door was slightly opened revealing at its gap a dim light and an overwhelming heat. Under this particular weather, there was a need of a fireplace.

The professor stepped in the headmaster’s office.

“Severus,” Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the Wizarding School, Hogwarts, greeted the man, “what can I do for you in this, rather hectic evening?”

“I –” he stopped, having been interrupted by a loud thunder, “have some news from You Know Who.”

Dumbledore froze for a moment. “Ah!” he uttered, heading towards his centered desk, and sitting down. “Tell me what you know.”

“You Know Who’s daughter is supposedly coming to Hogwarts this year.”

“How is that possible?” Dumbledore seemed confused.

“He has gotten back in contact with her, after seventeen years,” Snape said in a monotone voice of his range. “I have been told to keep an eye on her.”

The storm was heavily attacking the gleaming windows.

“This is no coincidence - I suppose you know that, Severus.”

“I… assumed.”

“Voldemort has something in mind – something that involves the school – or Potter.”

“The child has always been in his sight, why would it be that now he is looking to get to him by sending his abandoned daughter off to school while she has a cursed bloodline herself, it seems a little…odd… from my perspective, Professor.”

“You’re right, Severus - but we need to be en garde.” Dumbledore was looking all around his desk seeming to try to dismantle this new information. “Does the girl know why she’s coming?”

“It seems like she does.”

“U-huh,” he replied. “Well, the link between Draco’s commended mission to kill me and the arrival of Voldemort’s daughter is evident; he’s trying to gain some presence within the school.”

“And,” he continued, “the girl and Draco have known each other merely from birth, they’ve grown up together as siblings, haven’t they, Severus?”

“I wouldn’t use the word siblings, Professor – as far as I know, they roughly consider each other cousins.”

“Right, right, cousins…”

“Professor,” uttered Snape.

“Huh?”

“What should I do?”

“Well,” Dumbledore got up and walked towards the animal that was gripping a stand cage. It was an elegant phoenix; he had crimson feathers covering his entire body and a long golden tail resembling that of a peacock. His name was Fawkes. Dumbledore caressed the animal as he continued, “you have no choice – she will have to attend this year at Hogwarts. In fact, she will directly be put into Slytherin, that way your task will be eased.”

“If I may, I don’t think she would’ve been sorted into any other house, giving her lineage, Professor.”

“Right, descendant of Salazar Slytherin, right…” Dumbledore didn’t seem to be there, his thoughts spiraling up, trying to find the connecting factor.

“I see you… pensive” said Snape in return.

Dumbledore moved from the bird to the East of the room and stood next to the recollection of memories bottled up in glass jars.

“We both know, Severus, that Voldemort doesn’t hold any sort of affection towards his daughter; he’s incapable of it.” He frenetically moved to the West of the room. “That girl has been raised by Druella Black, mother of the living Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy. The girl has never had any contact with her father, nor her mother for that matter.”

“If I may ask… what happened to the mother?”

“Well, no one knows what happened to her; no one even knows who she is. Voldemort hasn’t had any known-of partner in his life.”

“Right,” replied Snape. “Although the girl has, so it seems, a tight relation with the Diggory family.”

“The Diggorys… Cedric Diggory? The boy that Voldemort killed during the Triwizard Tournament?” inquired Dumbledore.

“Indeed. She’s presumably close to his father, Amos Diggory, who works in the Ministry of Magic.” completed Snape.

“How?”

“I don’t know, but she will come to the school as his niece, omitting her last name Riddle.”

“A façade.” Dumbledore had a lost look.

“Yes.”

“There’s a lot of things that we can’t grasp, Severus. You will keep an eye on her, I will deal with the rest.”

“As you wish.”

Snape turned around, swinging his cape as he moved to the door.

“Severus,” Dumbledore called him, before he could walk away, “Hogwarts is, once again, being threatened. This time, it might be the last time”. He looked at his hand, a black dark magic had scattered through most of it.

Snape understood his words but didn’t reply.

A black figure made his way down the enchanted staircase.

ྀ࿔

The hallways were full of students. Bustling chatter about summertime and vacations was spreading around the walls of the entrance hall. First years were arriving in canoes through the Great Lake that surrounded Hogwarts while upper years were progressively making an entrance, after getting off the Hogwarts Express.

She noticed the attunes of most students. Black robes seemed to be the official uniform, with varying colors on the hood, sleeves and the edge of the front depending on the student who was wearing it. At the front of it, there was a patch in accordance with the colors of the robe – she assumed it was the house patch of the student. She particularly laid her eyes on the green one, the one who seemed to have a snake in the middle. She knew that Father had attended the school – and even if she was mostly ignorant about the school system and supposed houses, she knew her father had been a green-robed student.

Snape started to climb up the Grand Stairs, she followed him. Various students and professors were hectically going up and down the stairs, making her have to pay attention to not brush shoulders with any of them. Snape was not looking back at her, swinging from side to side as if he knew seconds ahead who was going to go up or down.

Her mind wondered back to the reason why she was there; to the mission Father had commended her to do. She had heard about Wizarding Schools, Hogwarts in particular, since nearly her birth. However, Druella never wanted her to get mingled with academic wizards and witches, fearing for her life as a Riddle. That last name did not follow any welcoming reception in the Wizarding World. But after Father’s come back, things have changed all around.

She couldn’t help but travel back to the moment it all started.

“F-father?” she called him, pitch black consuming the entire room of the Malfoy Manor.

She could hear him moving. Hollow wooden floorboards slowly crackling at his steps. She could also hear his snake hissing - that’s how she knew he was standing in front of her.

“Child,” he finally said with a whispery, throaty voice, “I missed you.”

She felt two arms making their way to her ribs while slowly tangling behind her on what seemed to be a hug. She didn’t move, shivering of horror.

“My daughter.” She felt the air of his voice in her ear, making her swift breathing be noticed.

She understood that he knew she was afraid.

His arms were no longer wrapping her, and she felt how he was circling her by the crackling wood yet again.

“How have the Blacks been treating you?”

She gasped.

“Fair enough…Father.”

He seemed to have moved to the other side of the room.

“And the Malfoys? The young boy, Draco, is he nice to you?”

She tried to relax her breathing.

“He is - they all have always treated me as one of their own.”

“But you’re not one of them, are you?”. He moved closer to her again, as she felt his snake sliding next to her foot.

“I-I guess I’m not.” She could’ve sworn she saw a monster in front of her. She closed her eyes tightly.

“Your stay with them might’ve been enjoyable, but I’m afraid you must leave.”

Something in her stopped when she heard those words.

“Where?” she inquired.

“To the Diggorys.”

“I don’t know who they are.”

He was standing in front of her. She could sense it.

“They are nice people that will take you under their roof – now, I need you to befriend them, become one of them. You will need to take on their last name.”

She didn’t say a word and let him continue.

“I need some things that lay within the walls of Hogwarts; some things that someone wants to steal.”

“Harry Potter,” she whispered, not being able to contain herself.

“Do not mention his name!” he raised his voice, and she could feel his face almost touching hers.

She nearly started sobbing.

“You don’t get to say his name in front of me, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He leaned back some inches from her. “Some objects that are in the castle belong to me. I hid them so they would be safe - but it has come to my attention that they might be in danger.”

She kept listening.

“When the time comes, I will need you to go to Hogwarts as a Diggory and bring those objects back to me. You will be fully awarded for the act,” he paused, “and gain your place by my side.”

She heavily breathed when she heard that. After all those years, her father was offering her a chance to make him proud, to honor her last name, to have a family.

“What are these objects?”

“You’ll must bring me the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, the locket of Salazar Slytherin and the sword of Godric Gryffindor. All of them make the Relics of Hogwarts.”

“Now,” he continued, “you will leave to the Diggorys tomorrow morning. I will be back to tell you when you will attend Hogwarts.” He paused. “I’m afraid I must leave you now, dear girl.”

“Father?” She needed to ask.

“Yes?”

“Who is my mother?” she asked away. She figured that now that he needed her, he couldn’t hurt her for asking.

The seconds that lasted the silence lingered in her like a death sentence.

“Your mother ran away as she had the chance. I would be tarnishing your name by speaking of her.”

She knew that wasn’t the truth; she sensed it in his voice.

“Did you love her?”

He breathed heavily; he was getting tired of this conversation. He swiftly approached her once again.

“Love does not exist. Don’t let them bewitch your mind.”

And just like that, he vanished through dark smoke.

ྀ࿔

“Hogwarts. What a pathetic excuse for a school,” Draco snapped. “I’d pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I had to continue for another two years.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pansy Parkinson, close friend of Draco, replied.

“Let’s just say, I don’t think you’ll see me wasting my time in Charms class next year.”

Draco, Pansy and Blaise were sitting down in a wagon of the Hogwarts Express. Draco knew it was his last time returning to Hogwarts. He also knew his biggest stress this year was not going to be about returning good grades home or beating Potter in the Quidditch finals. The Dark Lord had commended him a very important mission, and now that his father was facing sentence in Azkaban, he had to bear with the responsibility of the family’s loyalty towards the Dark plan.

Blaise blurted out a small chuckle to Draco’s words.

“Amused, Blaise?” the blonde boy replied. “We’ll see just who’s laughing in the end.”

Draco heard a noise coming from the rack above their seats and saw his bag having slightly been moved. Someone was eavesdropping on the conversation through an invisibility spell, and he bet on bloody Potter. He didn’t talk much after knowing the conversation was not confidential. In what twisted pathetic adventure was Potter trying to be the hero on this time? His blood was boiling by just having to pretend not knowing he was there. That tosser that everyone always praised – he wouldn’t last two days in his position. After all, life was not about heroic acts, corny speeches, and lucky fate – some people had been given a family name to respect, an expectation to be met. He thought, once again, about the mission that had been commended to him by the Dark Lord; how his wand would have to end the life of the greatest wizard alive; how he would go onto History as the man who assassinated Albus Dumbledore. He realized his hands were sweaty and his heartbeat higher than normal. He tried to keep his composure in front of everyone in the wagon and fixed his gaze on the rich green Scottish fields – clouds welcoming him to a thunderstorm.

ྀ࿔

“Ah! Y/N Diggory! Come in, come in…” Dumbledore greeted the girl in his office.

“Thank you,” she replied, following Snape. She didn’t take too much time to have a look at the curious, but glamorous place.

“Do you fancy my office? I must admit I am really fond of collecting peculiar objects,” he approached a table where all sorts of outlandish things were scattered. She noticed the blackness of his hand when he grabbed one of the objects, “I don’t always know what they do but I find them really unique as room decoration, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure being the headmaster has its advantages when it comes to decorating.”

“Oh, being the headmaster has plenty of advantages, Miss. Diggory,” he replied in a whispery tone.

“Now, you, as a new Hogwarts student, have also a lot of advantages;” he continued, “First of all, you are skipping from year one to year six, so you won’t have to bear first years’ Potions on how to make a cure for boils or first year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts on how to cast an Expelliermus.”

You simply nodded.

“Then, Professor Snape has told me that you’ve already passed through the Sorting Hat and you have been assigned to Slytherin, is that correct, Severus?”

“It is.”

It was not correct. She hadn’t gone through any house assignation, but she understood that Dumbledore didn’t know about it, and that Snape had probably settled her in Slytherin for a reason – therefore, she didn’t question it.

“Wonderful. An ambitious, clever girl, I see”.

She smirked at him. She bet he was not by any means a Slytherin himself.

“Lastly, I assume you have all this year’s textbooks, ingredients, plants, constellation maps, perhaps? Oh! I assume you have a pet by now! And a wand…”

She looked at Snape, knowing that she hadn’t bought any of those things herself. Except for the wand that she got at Ollivanders when she was eleven, after Druella had told her she would get a private tutor to teach her magic.

“She has,” Snape simply replied, without giving her any look back.

“Then everything seems to be settled. How are you feeling, Miss. Diggory?” Dumbledore deeply stared at her. This time, she felt like he really wanted to know the answer.

“Really honored to join the school, Sir.”

“My door is always open for any visits. Never underestimate the magic of being listened, Miss. Diggory.”

She nodded and followed Snape downstairs, thinking she was probably never going to step into that office again.

Snape and Y/N arrived at the dungeons of the school, where the Slytherin dormitories could be found. Snape turned around to talk to Y/N.

“All of your things are in your dorm, number 3, all the schedule and times are also in your dorm, the password to the common room is pure-blood… don’t want you sneaking after ten p.m. or you could get… into trouble.” His intimidating black eyes were on hers. He turned around with a swing of his cape.

“Oh,” He turned towards her again, “supper starts at six.”

She was alone in the castle for the first time. She uttered the password on a low voice and a bare stretch of stone wall opened, leading her to a corridor. Once she walked through it, only lightened by torches hang up on the stone walls, she arrived at the common room. It was a high ceiling, ample room; dark green shades flickering from the multiple windows. Low backed black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas were placed all around the room; skulls on top of tables; and dark wood cupboards. Tapestries of numerous medieval figures decorated the walls. Y/N noticed the highlighted portrait of an old man that she recognized to be Salazar Slytherin, founder of the Slytherin house and one of the four founders of Hogwarts. She knew this because she was a distant relative of his, through her father of course. She noticed she was alone and headed directly to her dorm.

Her dorm was a five-bed room with one bathroom. She recognized her bag next to one of the beds. On the side table, she found a pile of textbooks; she started leafing through some of the books: Advanced Potion-Making, A Guide To Advanced Transfiguration, Flesh-Eating Trees Of The World… Her eyes wondered to the parchment at the right where her schedule and attending courses were shown. She started to read through the different school norms and times when she felt something brushing her leg. She startled at the contact when she saw a small black kitten going under her bed. She kneeled and grabbed it, putting it on the bed. The kitten had big emerald eyes that were looking into hers, as if it had some sort of human spirit inside.

“You must be my pet, huh?” She grabbed it again and looked to confirm the sex. “A Miss… Should give you a name, shouldn’t I?” She laid down on her bed caressing the kitten on her chest, thinking of a name for her. She realized that it was the first time she let herself sink down and relax since her arrival. A lot of thoughts were constantly crossing her mind telling her to focus on everything, to plan everything, to think about everything – it was exhausting. Exhausting… she came up with something.

“Your name is Exhonia. What do you think?” she asked the kitten as if she was going to reply. The kitten was scratching her jumper.

“Okay Exhonia, don’t get too ahead on yourself.” She grabbed the rather turbulent cat and placed it next to her on the bed.

The only time she had ever dealt with a cat was a the Diggory’s house, near Ottery St Catchpole. Cedric’s pet had been a brown and white cat, a rather upset one she might add, especially when Cedric was not around anymore. She had gone to the Diggory’s a month after the boy’s death when Father had asked her to.

“What can I do for you, dear?” a middle-aged man, short and plump opened the door of the cottage.

“My name is Y/N, Sir – is this the Diggory’s house?”

“Yes, yes… what is it that you want?” he wouldn’t entirely open the front door, as if he didn’t trust the world outside.

“I came to talk to you. I was really close to Cedric.”

The man seemed to freeze.

“And I was hoping to come and meet you since you would’ve been my father-in-law”.

And that is how she managed to spend a year living under the roof of the Diggorys. Amos Diggory fully believed her when she told him the story of how she was supposed to marry Cedric once he would end the Triwizard Tournament; how they had wanted to wait until the end of it to tell his parents. She told him, through a little bit of sobbing, how her parents had dropped dead on a car accident, being herself a muggle-born, and that the only family she had left was the Diggorys – even if she had never met them before. Amos and his wife found in her a beam of light; the spirit of Cedric in a beautiful fifteen-year-old girl. They never questioned the story, nor her intentions and adopted her as a Diggory that had always belonged in the family. It was not until one year later that Y/N shared with them her dream of attending Hogwarts, as Father had contacted her back and told her it was time she fulfilled her mission. They accepted with little objection, happy that they could spoil a girl as they once did to Cedric. Y/N, as a sign of gratitude, asked them if she could inherit their last name, to which they happily agreed. She became Y/N Diggory, niece of Mr. and Mrs. Diggory, as she told them it would be more appropriate taking into consideration that no one knew about her planned marriage with Cedric. Even if Y/N didn’t really want to get mingled in the Diggorys life, she knew they were living in delusion, desperately looking to fill the void of their son’s death – which Y/N, in a way, managed to do. They were in need of a miracle, she offered them the fairiest of fairy tales… who cared if it was all a script of lies at the end of the day?

Her thoughts came back to the present moment when she heard a bell chiming the hour. Six, so she counted. She decided to go down for supper, still curious that no students had yet come to the common room.

She walked up the stairs and dived through the hallways, meeting no one on the way. When she started to hear some familiar voice she recognized as to Dumbledore’s, she followed it, understanding she was somehow late to some sort of first day speech. But in the middle of her wanderings, an old-wrinkled man with a cat yelled at her.

“And what do you think you’re doing lurking in the hallways?” He firmly grabbed her by the arm.

“I was looking for the Great H- let go of me!” she replied, trying to get rid of his grip.

“The headmaster will hear about your wanderings, young lady!” He dragged her towards the doors of the Great Hall. Both doors slammed open when he pushed them with his bare hand. Dumbledore’s speech was immediately interrupted. Hundreds of eyes turned towards the old man’ and Y/N’s direction.

“Headmaster, sorry to provoke such an entrance but I found this girl wandering around the castle, missing the opening ceremony” he gave her away to everyone in the room. He pushed her forward so everyone could see who he was screaming about.

She stood at the beginning of the corridor between the students’ tables. She looked ahead, Dumbledore standing up in a podium, several professors sitting down behind him and, of course, a few inches away from her, long tables filled with students of different ages, different houses, staring at her like she was the most bizarre specimen. She decided to say something.

“Sir, I-“

“There’s no need, Miss. Diggory,” after her last name had been dropped, all students started to look at each other, mumbles starting to form, “you can join your table with the other Slytherin students.”

She didn’t reply, hearing how the room had become a cloud of voices at this point.

“Thank you Argus for the help. But, Miss. Diggory was just lost, being this her first day at Hogwarts.” The voices intensified. “Now, while it is always very joyful to welcome new students, I must ask you to stop the chatter.” Students seemed to listen to him, and seconds later there was little to no sound.

Y/N sat down on the first free seat at the Slytherin table, still feeling like half of the students’ gazes were settled on her. Once Dumbledore had proceeded with his speech, she discretely took a look on the people that surrounded her. Four large tables divided the Great Hall, one for each house. Her gaze wondered through the Gryffindor table, looking for a certain scared-boy. She of course knew about the prophecy, as well as she knew the history between him and her father. She had thought about eventually meeting Harry Potter but never really figured how she would react to his presence. Should she hate him, pity him, fear him? The boy was her age – which didn’t leave a lot of room for fear. But she was still curious to see how they would react to one another, even if the boy was unaware of who her father was, as well as everyone. She guessed she would eventually meet the chosen one during class.

Her eyes turned back to Dumbledore, who was finishing talking, when someone pulled their arm towards her.

“They are calling you from there,” a dark-haired boy told her, while pointing to the other side of the long table.

She switched her focus to look for the person who was calling her. A blonde boy tilted his head down to meet her gaze. He playfully tilted his eyebrows while a smirk made its way to his face. She smiled at him while slowly shaking her head. It was no other than the heir of the Malfoys himself. He stared deep into her eyes a little longer, then shifted his gaze back to some Professor that had started talking. She looked at him a little longer, letting herself feel for no more than five seconds the accelerated heartbeat that she was still unfamiliar with. She eventually switched her gaze back to the Professor too. The Slytherin heir was back at Hogwarts, and this time, she had the Prince of Slytherin by her side.

part two

[betterthanburrow]

Miss CEO - Instagram AU

(Bengals Quarterback! Joe Burrow x Beauty Influencer OC)

liked by yourinstagram, and 270,155 more users

MISHTIMAKEUP: introducing “Mishti Makeup” a new make-up brand created by @.yourinstagram.

after many years of hard work through cosmetology school, collaborating with other make-up brands, and building up the social media platforms, the day that our Chief Executive Officer has dreaming about since she was a little girl is finally here 🤎✨

it’s important to click the website in our bio to subscribe to our newsletter to stay updated on our upcoming make-up collection launches and sales!

view all 95,420 comments

yourinstagram: i’m very excited for this new journey!

↳ MISHTIMAKEUP: we love you! - social media intern.

nikkietutorials: i can’t wait to try out all of the new make-up products!

mamaburrow: i’m so excited to support you!

varijstylez: this was one of the hardest secrets that i have had to keep in my life… i’m so happy that the news of your company is finally out in the world!

joeyb_9: i’m so proud of you princess 💗

↳ yourinstagram: thank you 😽 i’m proud of me too!

liked by joeyb_9, and 300,851 more users

yourinstagram: Miss CEO Of Mishti Makeup.

view all 119,663 comments

yourlittlesister: so… since the CEO of Mishti Makeup is a my big sister, does this mean i get free products?!

↳ yourinstagram: hmm… i don’t know if you deserve those privileges 🤔

↳ yourlittlesister: i’m your little sister that was your makeup model for many years… that means i have automatically earned those privileges of free products.

joeyb_9: it’s more like… Miss CEO Of My Heart.

↳ yourinstagram: stop flirting with me on instagram…

like by 66,925 more users

DailyJLBurrow: Instagram Stories from (12/5/22)

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username1: Joe posting about his girlfriend and Spongebob Squarepants on his IG stories… now all he needs to do is post something related to football and then Joe would’ve posted his holy trinity in one day!

username2: the Bengals beat the Kanas Chiefs yesterday but Joe is making it a priority to post about his girlfriend’s business over the football game win.

↳ username3: Chiefs fans really wanted to get a reaction out of Joe but it’s clear that he’s so unbothered even with the game win!

liked by joeyb_9, and 333,799 more users

yourinstagram: just the two of us @.joeyb_9 🤎

view all 150,001 comments

mamaburrow: the two of you are so cute!

joeyb_9: roses are red, violets are blue… you’ll be the 6 and i’ll be the 9.

↳ yourinstagram: JOSEPH LEE BURROW… THIS IS A PUBLIC COMMENT SECTION!

liked by 99,725 users

BeautyGuru_Updates: Y/N’s instagram story of her and NFL Bengals Quarterback Joe Burrow.

view all 15,019 comments

username1: we really are getting spoiled with Y/N and Joe content today… this is a rare occasion!

↳ username2: and when we do get spoiled of content, it’s just their shadows or blurry photos… it’s never clear pictures, we get spoiled while living off crumbs.

username3: i still can’t believe my favorite beauty guru and my dad’s favorite NFL Quarterback are DATING?!

liked by yourinstagram and 509,917 more users

joeyb_9: Unbothered.

view all 4,183 comments

Bengals: 🔥🔥🔥

yourlittlesister: i have the coolest future brother in law!

yourinstagram: are you a parking ticket… because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you 😽

↳ joeyb_9: so you don’t like when i flirt with you in your instagram comments… but here you are, flirting with me in my instagram comments?!

Author’s Note:

if you have a request for an IG AU, please send the Instagram AU request in my inbox and i’ll try to get the IG AU requested published as soon as possible.

thank you all for the love and support! 🤍

[mylittleredgirl]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @geneeste. :) i may have done this one before, but tumblr blog search was traditionally unhelpful and i have several very important things i should be doing, so here we are <3

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 219

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 655,471

3. What fandoms do you write for?

stargate atlantis is the runaway lead, then sg-1, 90s/00s treks, the x-files, and a grab bag of other things. only two fics so far for m*a*s*h but the forecast looks good!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

no sooner met (star trek voyager, j/c, eight years of friends-to-lovers in 5k or less)

career day (stargate sg-1, clone!sam/jack, damn that sure was a choice to go back to high school amirite)

next chapter (the good place, chidi/eleanor, the intimacy of reading)

first date (star trek voyager, j/c, falling in love again)

occupational hazards (the good place, chidi/eleanor, eleanor would rather not be the architect)

5. Do you respond to comments?

eventually!!!! i tend to keep nice ones on my home page for a while to cheer me up and then sometimes they get buried. i wake up nights like "damn the good place fandom really went all out with amazing comments on that random fic in like 2018 and i never replied," so maybe i need to go through my inbox and belatedly clear my cosmic debts.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

twilight (stargate atlantis, sheppard/weir, what if john didn't break the cycle). strong on style but real weak on comfort.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

weaving loose ends (stargate sg-1, sam/jack) ends with a wedding! in twenty years of writing romance fic, that has maybe only happened once?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not yet! but the year is young.

a fic of mine did cause a dramatic fandom schism once, in the dancing with the stars fandom no less. a splinter fan group created in exile! a mod claiming to be personal friends with the stars! everybody storming out and then blocking each other! so my fic did cause hate, but somehow i personally escaped unscathed. i didn't even get blocked. (lesson: in some spaces, rpf is encouraged until They Fuck. second lesson: if you start a fire and then stay very quiet, everyone forgets about you.)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do!! i guess!! but i'm struggling with it right now and it's giving me a complex. and "what kind" is like......... vanilla het fic for the most part tbh. gauzy curtain vibes, even. basically, i have to really sit and think about whether to rate something M or E, you know?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

yes, but not since the x-files days. rip geocities webrings we salute you for your years of service.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, but i think i'd like to! passing chapters back and forth sleepover style like "haha write your way out of THIS" would be fun. (or collaborating in a more mundane way, i guess....)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

john sheppard/elizabeth weir (stargate atlantis). first fic in the tag and i'm still fuckin there. three years on tv and a lifetime in my goddamn brain.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

realistically, i'm feeling pretty down on the chances that i'll ever finish ANY wip that's longer than 20k, but the two long ones withering on the vine that i'd like to finish are a sam/jack sg1 episodic soulmate fic and "what if janeway went undercover with the maquis instead of tuvok: the novel."

16. What are your writing strengths?

stealing one of geneeste's answers because "character complexity" is a good one! i don't feel satisfied with any fic unless i feel like i have learned something new about a character, or highlighted it in a new way.

my more specific strength, according to @coraclavia, is missing-scene fics that weave through an entire series canon to make a thesis statement (they are In Love).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

😭 i can't write anything long 😭 i really wish i were different 😭 i envy those of you with staying power who can return to a story after going to work or writing something else and keep plugging away at it. i used to write sprawling things when i was a teen, but since becoming Adult With Job now many years ago, i've totally lost that skill!!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

haaaahahahaha. talk about a weakness. i literally couldn't bring myself to write a fic that required dialogue in Ancient from stargate, a language that -- i cannot stress this enough -- is not even real. i'm like "well maybe i'll study latin for three years and then analyze all the episodes where they speak it to reverse engineer the differences so i can write the bastardized space latin correctly" GIRL WHY. JUST FUCK IT UP.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

first completed story that i recall would have been star trek voyager in my early teens, and by the grace of rural internet and some kind of prescient sense of self-preservation, it does not live online. first internet-published fic was several years later, for the x-files. for better or worse, that one can still be found.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

i think pieces (stargate atlantis, sheppard/weir, catharsis through sex pollen) might be the new best, and i had a lot of fun writing erasers on pencils (stargate sg-1, clone!sam/jack, catharsis through truancy).

--

i am sure many of my fic-writer-meme friends have done this already but @ussjellyfish if your answers have changed since whenever you did it last; i'd love to hear how @havocthecat, @anretc, and @coraclavia would answer this; and blowing dandelion meme seeds over the fence to the mash fandom: @remyfire!

[loganwalkerz]

Ajax x Rorke again,

I'm actually semi proud of this one and maybe will write a part 2? Depends on what everyone's thinkin

Tws: kidnapping, mentions of torture but none, mentions of blood.

Not fully proof read+I'm dyslexic so <3

Also, requests are open if anybody is interested. My inbox should be open, I haven't written smut before, but I can sure try lmao <3

Fic starts now:

Rorke, who doesn't kill Ajax but instead keeps him "safe," locked away from everybody, including the fellow federation who believe Ajax was disposed of.

Rorke has a secret cottage that's hidden from civilians and military because he kinda already planned to take Ajax away from the very first time he laid eyes on the smaller male.

He kept his intentions a secret, though, and just worked his way slowly into Ajax life day by day, making sure Ajax's tasks constantly surrounded the commander and no one else

It was clear ever since they started dating, Rorke became more and more obsessed with the sergeant. Keeping him on a short leash, literally whenever somebody asked about Ajax, it was common for Rorke to respond with "My Ajax is busy," like the man was some sort of possession.

So when it was spread that Rorke apparently shot him, no one thought otherwise. Maybe Rorke got bored of his toy? Maybe Rorke truly went insane and got blood thirsty?

But poor ol Ajax was stuck inside the cottage, one that would've looked like a fairytale if there wasn't for the large chains on the door that prevented Ajaxs escape. The freshlh planted and grown flowers around the front of the cottage, the newly painted white fence that was placed around the cottage. The interior decorations were something out of a dream. It was warm and cosy, just like a home should be, right? The tinted windows and the stained glass that glew as the sun hits it, creating colours on the wooden floor.

Ajax could break a window and run, but in reality, he knew there would be nowhere to go for miles. And he has a sneaking suspicion that anybody nearby probably was on Rorkes side anyway. They'd call Gabriel and give him Ajax location and he'd probably get there before Ajax escaped.

Even before he'd find people, Ajax would probably get lost in the woods that Rorke knew like the back of his hand.

He was just stuck alone until Rorke would come back and tell him all about the missions and how he's still hunting the Ghosts, how he's so close to being successful now that Elias is out of the picture. It almost makes Ajax wonder if Rorke was ever the person he fell in love with in the first place. But who knows? Maybe deep down, Gabriel Rorke was still that stern yet caring commander Ajax remembers all those years ago. Maybe it's all a plot for Rorke to take down the federation? Or maybe Ajax was just hoping for the best as perusal.

The next time Rorke came home, he had been gone for a good few weeks, and Ajax had been bored out of his mind. When Rorke comes in with blood, Ajax assumes he got hurt during a mission, or he somehow got punished by the Federation for screwing something up.

But what he didn't expect was for Rorke to reveal the most dreaded news Ajax could think of.

Rorke had been successful in capturing Logan. The blood didn't belong to Rorke, but the teammate Ajax used to care for like a little brother.

It made Ajax blood boil and feeling like he could vomit knowing exactly what was probably happening to the poor boy. He's read the files about what the federation done to Rorke. He had been there to comfort Elias throughout all the guilt and pain of the past. It was the same files Ajax had read every night crying, wondering if his boyfriend would ever come out alive.

And by the looks of it, Rorke didn't. At least not the Rorke that Ajax remembers, Ajax knows that man died inside that pit. The very same pit Logan was now stuck inside

But there was nothing Ajax could do or say that would change Rorkes mind. Especially not with how possessed Rorke is, like a different man wearing the skin of the commander. This new man was insane and crazy. He knew Rorke had eyes on him at all times. From security cameras placed outside the home in every direction to Cameras disguised as teddy's or other items around the inside of the cottage in every room.

But Ajax did have one idea, one that could possibly save Logan's life. It was a stupid foolish one that probably would end with hell rising and the end times staring, but Ajax didn't care. He was desperate for Logan's safety and return to his brother.

"Let the kid go, and I'll marry you, I know that's what you've been wanting. I've seen you looking at rings online. I've seen your diary and wedding planner, i know what you want." Ajax announced one day during dinner.

The two sat on opposite sides of the table, and a staring contest began as Ajax poked at the food. He's still nervous about eating in case Rorke laced the delicious smelling dinner with something

"Logan goes free, and you get me fully. We can have a big or quiet wedding. We can invite whoever you want and it can be wherever you want. But you gotta let that kid go"

Ajax says with a firm voice, the firmest he's sounded since he originally was trapped inside the cottage and was constantly fighting against Rorke.

And Ajax doesn't miss the way Rorke's eyes lit up as Ajax offers this new deal, cutting into the finely cooked steak with almost a smirk crawling upon the usually blank cold face.

"...I'll think about it,"

Rorke replied smoothly, acting like he wasn't bothered by the offer, like he didn't feel his heart pick up in beats or the weird giddy feeling in his stomach like a high school boy who just had his first kiss.

But Ajax knows Rorke's already made up his mind. He's just playing hard to get like always. Just like when they were younger. He knows Rorke is going to say yes. He also knows Rorke will need to plan this properly so the federation keeps off Rorkes back and clueless about the cottage and Ajax presence

"Well..don't keep me waiting"

Was all Ajax said as he pushed his plate away and simply walked to the bedroom, leaving the grinning commander behind

[bad-surprise]

⭐️directors commentary of your choice please?

i held onto this for a minute because i knew i wanted to wait until the fic was complete (same for museum, that’s sitting in my inbox for now)

apologies in advance, this is a long one.

but i thought you might

haladriel modern au | E | 135.4k | 26/26

but i thought you might (bitym) began as a promptfill i posted on december 9th, 2022— the day i created my fandom twitter account.

at very basic level, bitym is a story about purity culture and the impact it has on those who grow up within it, even if they believe they never bought into the conditioning. it taught me that i love writing about sex— particularly deeply psychological sex scenes that reveal new info about the characters and their relationship, motivations, and overall dynamic.

it really only exists because my husband had covid that week, and because i was exposed but tested negative we were isolating separately. i had a lot of time to fill and spent a lot of it daydreaming, listening to music, and writing little bits of a story in my notes app. there was a very clear moment where hal’s voice just clicked for me and the first chapter came together from there. chapters 1, 2, the last half of 4, and 5 were all written first, back when i thought it would be an 8k one shot. i still have the draft of this, along with another one shot version of it.

it was inspired by memories of high school, particularly one off-campus lunch senior year where a friend confessed that she and her boyfriend had sex and she enjoyed it and didn’t know what to do with that. i believe my response was “i’m pretty sure you’re supposed to like it,” but she started crying. hal and gal’s high school is largely based on the private religious school i attended, and when i imagine their campus, that’s the image in my mind.

i really struggled to find a title, and sort of impulsively chose a line from home by daughter because i thought that song captured the right vibe.

personally, the story only becomes something i’m not embarrassed by around chapter 6. i knew what i was writing towards at that point but only in vague terms. going back into hal’s pov there for the first time since chapter 2 really clarified things for me. i’m not proud of it until chapter 10.

note: spoilers for the entirety of but i thought you might below.

many of my favorite elements were happy accidents, including the introduction of luthien, the two year time jump in chapter 11, the entire diner scene, and hal going to therapy. in conversations with my husband, i was adamant for so long that bitym!hal would never go to therapy. i underestimated what he would be willing to do for gal.

i didn’t really know the ending until around march, and a key aspect of it changed while drafting the penultimate chapter. the original ending i had in mind was incredibly dark, much closer to the shark in your water. it was initially going to be a story about hal thinking he was free from the religious conditioning but turning out to be just as toxic as fin, and galadriel coming to terms with being trapped. i was terrified when this changed and so so scared that hal would lose empathy from readers because of what he did, but ultimately that doesn’t seem to have happened.

the process of writing felt like constant excavation. i felt my way through the story intuitively, with a very flexible list of some plot points in my mind, but i was pretty much flying blind here. i’m so glad it worked out alright in the end.

easter eggs/random bits of info

references

“but they say you have the voice of an angel” is a reference to the music of the ainur

many celebrian moments were inspired by tiktoks and reddit posts.

“the last person i dated was awful” from chapter 17 (i think?) is the only morgoth reference in the whole fic. i debated including him but it ultimately felt like too much work to add it in and i don’t think the story needed it.

when hal’s telling galadriel how he lost his virginity, he says “she had a boyfriend anyway”. this is a reference to the song sex by the 1975.

in chapter 18, the event the girls go to is a reference to revolve tour (the girls who get it, get it)

the conversation hal and gal have about the differences in sex ed for girls and guys at their school is intended to slightly reference “then why is it not gone from here?” in the show, which is largely how it felt for me to leave evangelicalism before recovering from a lot of the related trauma. i didn’t believe it anymore, so why was it still strangling me all the fucking time?

depression as anger turned inward comes from my therapist, who knows i used it in this fic.

takes 20 attempts for halbrand to get the ring right because 3 rings for the eleven kings + 7 for the dwarf lords + 9 for mortal men = 19 before he forges the one.

hal is an aeronautical engineer working in the defense sector. this is a reference to some legendarium stuff around sauron in numenor.

writing process + personal shit:

in the first draft, hal was morgoth’s son and there was a plot point involving the theft of the silmarils.

the nursing student line in chapter 1 is based on some people i knew at university.

i am too embarrassed to read chapters 2 and 3. like i just want to curl up and hide whenever i think about either of those chapters, i think they’re terrible.

there are many “deleted scenes” from bitym that just didn’t fit into the narrative in the end, so they live in the unused scenes folder in my scrivener project. one of these scenes— a description of hal’s apartment— actually ended up being used for museum, and another scene i deleted was reworked for chapter 7 of shark.

i wrote the infamous chapter 5 car scene in the middle of the night, during what felt like a dissociative state, because i knew if i wasn’t exhausted my inner critic would start shame spiraling due to my own religious upbringing.

every single purity culture experience in the text, with the exception of chastity club and the purity pledge, is something that actually happened in my life. the only reason i didn’t do a purity pledge is because i missed youth group that week.

“they cannot convince her she’s sinned” is 100% from my own experience of being surprised by my complete lack of guilt lol.

i really want to have a longer convo about the consent stuff in it because i’m fascinated by some of the responses i got to the chapter 5 car scene. some people were really angry with me for it, which was interesting bc i really had the archive warning on there because of the birth control tampering.

i fucked up the time skip in chapter 11 and added an extra year. this changed the story dramatically (and is why the ending ultimately changed) but i prefer the way it turned out. i also fucked up the age gap between fin and gal, and don’t ask me what grade celebrian is in bc basically i cannot do math to save my life.

i find it really interesting how many readers seem to think galadriel’s POV chapters are more reliable than hal’s, because i definitely see it the opposite way.

i get super nervous about the references to their jobs because i’m terrified of getting something wrong but definitely don’t know the ins and outs. i do research, but i still feel super inadequate there, which is why you never see her at work and only see him at work twice.

chapter 13 (diner scene) was so difficult to plan, but once i decided to use those two songs, it became fairly straightforward. it’s one of my favorite chapters in the entire story.

you probably know this by now if you’ve read chapter 25, but their first kiss being in a closet was 100% deliberate.

i’m so so proud of the sequence with the pregnancy tests in chapter 15.

i decided celebrian would be in this while writing chapter 6.

the drive home from the bachelorette party was written about five days after i started working on bitym.

i knew as soon as chapter 6 that hal would wait until celebrian was born to tell galadriel that he loved her, but holy shit it was so difficult to wait that long.

the scene I’m most proud of is the opening to chapter 23.

misc. in universe info:

the night out with elrond and miriel in chapter 22 stresses me out so much bc gal doesn’t understand what she’s doing and it’s such a horrible position for hal to be in, seeing how she’s basically asking him to come out to her before he’s ready. this all happens only a few days before galadriel leaves for the first time.

hal doesn’t know that galadriel doesn’t think they’re a couple until B+L’s wedding. his response when she tries to bring it up earlier is because he’s worried officially defining it its going to either set him up for failure, or scare her off completely, but in his mind, they were basically together together as soon as he said “yeah, i think i’ll keep you” in chapter 5.

there are subtextual references to substance use issues in hal’s family. this is why he doesn’t drink much or do drugs— though by his 32nd birthday his attitude is a bit more relaxed, considering that their second child is conceived while both of them are drunk lol

in chapter 12, galadriel left her car in accessory for too long and the battery died. hal is fully aware of this and totally could’ve just jumped her battery but he missed her and wanted an excuse to spend time with her.

galadriel’s apprehension about motherhood doesn’t come from a lack of interest altogether, but because the only model she’s really had is one of 100% loss of identity, which is something she’s not willing to do. initially, i planned on this being her ultimate fate and good lord i’m so happy i didn’t go there.

i’m very careful in hal’s therapy sessions to have him refer to “people” he’s dated/slept with, rather than “women.”

galadriel’s friends 100% thought she was sleeping with hal AND celeborn in high school, hence their confusion at her response to finding out they were sexually active then.

hal’s parents aren’t actually homophobic or biphobic, they just didn’t know how to handle that situation and so they sort of pretended it didn’t happen. and if you want to know what happened, it’s just your usual homophobic bullying— the boy he liked turned on him to avoid being a target himself.

hal has had panic attacks his entire life but wasn’t diagnosed with panic disorder until shortly before galadriel moved out for real. he’s very resistant to using rescue meds and thinks he should just be able to tough it out.

they split bills proportionally based on income, with hal contributing 66% and gal 34% around the time of celebrian’s birth. galadriel doesn’t know much about hal’s finances until they buy the house.

i loved seeing how responses to amarie changed as she challenged expectations in the later timeline. i feel really bad for her— it’s implied in the final chapter that she married fin when she was 20 and he was 24, and she dropped out of college as a result. what they’re struggling with by the end is the fact that she wants to finish her degree and has made peace with the fact that they don’t have kids— more of that will be in peppermint for sure.

another aspect in the background that i knew about but decided against mentioning is that celebrian was born just before covid, which is a huge part of why they fell out with galadriel’s family. hal’s health anxiety meant nobody was getting anywhere near his baby and they were not feeling that at all. this might come up a little in peppermint, we’ll see. i doubt i would directly mention covid, just the fact that both of them were working from home for a large part of celebrian’s first few months.

celebrian’s first word was fuck. hal insists it doesn’t count. gal disagrees.

both hal and gal can be read as neurodivergent. it’s revealed in peppermint that celebrian does have adhd. hal also can be read as meeting the diagnostic criteria for borderline personality disorder— that was unintentional but i think it makes a lot of sense.

significant influences on bitym

films/tv

like crazy

normal people

about time

saved

couples therapy

the worst person in the world

before midnight

lady bird

500 days of summer

non-fiction

leaving the fold: a guide for former fundamentalists and others leaving their religion by marlene winell

complex ptsd: from surviving to thriving by pete walker

hold me tight by sue johnson

adult children of emotionally immature parents by lindsay c. gibson

three women by lisa taddeo

fiction

normal people by sally rooney

beautiful world where are you? by sally rooney

little rabbit by alyssa songsiridej

the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundera

atonement by ian mcewan

musical theater

the last five years

spring awakening

once

my favorite lines

Fighting is foreplay, so they never fight fair. Grievances are grenades, painstakingly primed for maximum impact. If the situation escalates to all-out warfare, consequences take a brutal turn. All hope of a ceasefire hangs on her eventual surrender to submission. — chapter 8

“Stop fucking running from what you want,” he murmurs, slipping his free hand beneath her shoulders, golden hair tangled around his wrist and laced between his fingers as they sink into her skin. “You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of yourself.” The words sear into her with the precision of a cautery pen, burning through any vestiges of self-denial still humming in her mind, loosening each thought at the root. — chapter 10

Galadriel murmured the words over and over again, whispering them against his lips, pressing them into his mouth, until the taste of each syllable was as familiar to him as the salt of her tears. — chapter 11

“Deciding to leave is very different from deciding to not love you anymore.” — chapter 13

If Galadriel is sunlight, Celebrian is made from the stars. — chapter 21

“I’d be first in line at the gates of hell,” Hal says slowly, with all the steadfast solemnity of a vow or a prayer, “if it meant I could keep this beautiful fucking life of ours for just a little longer.” — chapter 25

“You can stop beating yourself up for this shit, honey.” Hal’s thumb brushes her temple. “It’s not on you to fix something you didn’t fucking break.” — chapter 26

Maybe Hal was right. Maybe these moments only matter because of their fleeting, ephemeral nature. Maybe that overwhelming ache she once believed would shatter her served as a method to hollow out space for feeling to inhabit— this precious alloy of quiet contentment and contagious joy, irresistible wonder and the recalcitrance of love, all bound together by a strand of defiant hope. — chapter 26

“I might never be able to heal the parts of you— of us, of our family, our life— that I’ve broken. But you have my word, Galadriel,” his voice drops, each syllable low and firm, carrying the weight of an oath, “I will keep trying— until my last fucking breath, until the end of the goddamn world.” — chapter 26

that was probably a lot more than anyone wanted to know haha, so i’ll stop myself there. this fic means so fucking much to me and i’m so so proud of it. i never thought i’d be capable of writing anything like it and it’s so overwhelming in the best way to know that it means a lot to other people too.

hopefully this answered a lot of questions, but my ask box is open for anything at all— i could talk about concepts in and the process of writing bitym for days (i’m usually holding back bc i don’t want to be annoying) so please feel free to reach out with whatever.

and again, thank you all for everything. you’re amazing.

[cirrus-grey]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @magnetarmadda; thank you!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

252, of which a full 227 are TMA

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

905,246

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Recently? TMA/TMagP, Discworld, and Good Omens. I'll jump into anything that gives me plot bunnies though, and there's been quite a few different ones over the years!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Yesterday is Here

Déjà Vu

Misfiled and Misinformed

Humanity

Against All Probability

5. Do you respond to comments?

Always! I try to clear my inbox weekly and/or before I post a new fic, though I'm falling a bit behind right now with JonMartinWeek.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm, probably Wedding Blues - it's a bad-ending Lonely!Martin fic

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

So, I write a lot of happy endings and I'm not sure how to rank them. Probably either Yesterday is Here again, or the Castaways series.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I think I've only ever gotten one hate comment? So no, not really.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I... try? I'm not very good at it and it takes absolute ages. It's been described as "very polite" smut, though I'm attempting to get a little raunchier with it as I get more practice.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yeah, I've written a couple! The craziest is probably the first one I did, a Good Omens/Skulduggery Pleasant crossover that I'm still quite fond of.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yep, Unsent and Courage in the Dark have both been translated into Russian!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I don't know if I can give just one, honestly. For different reasons, both JonMartin (TMA) and Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens, primarily book not show).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

This is a throwback but I still have notes for an epic, multi-part, 100k Gracious/Donegan origin story fic from back in my Skulduggery Pleasant days. I wasn't a good enough writer back then to finish something that ambitious and I doubt I'll ever get invested enough in the fandom again to go back to it... but it still lives on in my daydreams.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmm... I'm good at conveying character emotions in a scene, and with pacing a story to make sure each new development or twist lands the way I want it to. I like to think I've got a knack for making dialogue sound in-character as well, even if I've put the characters in a situation that their canon selves would never be in.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes. Balancing conversations between more than two people without having some of them drop off or dominate the scene. Keeping track of large casts of characters in general - I've written so many 2-person romances, I just don't have practice with larger groups.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I love it when other people do, but it's not something I've attempted myself. I'm only fluent in English and I'd worry that I'd written something completely inaccurate if I had to rely on google translate or similar.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Good Omens! (Book)

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh, do not ask me that, I beg of you. There are about a hundred fics I've written that could all qualify, depending on the day and what mood I'm in.

...I'll say Vous, et nul autre, for now, because I'm really proud of how that one turned out and the fact that I finished it at all - it's one of those that I had the idea for years before I was good enough to write it, and I really like being able to look at it now and see how far I've come.

Tagging... @my-lonely-angel, @fridayyy-13th, @grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks - only if y'all want to!

[basilone]

I am summoning another fic from the groupchat vault today while I work on the prompts left in my inbox. 😊It's a little look at what the war has been like for Soviet captain Tatiana Petrova, only told through the lens of my god-chosen AU instead of the main fic this time. My fellow Speirs fans might enjoy the very clear nods to him here. 😉 As always, the AU is written in such a way that you do not need to know more beyond "certain gods choose certain soldiers, Speirs is chosen by War" — I strive to make my fics as accessible as possible! Warnings: mentions of graphic violence and death. (We're in Stalingrad for this one, after all.)

She’s losing the city.

It’s a knowledge that has sat in her chest for at least two barely-dark nights now. She’s felt the rush of it pound through her skull with every thunderclap of a bomb strike. There’s not a lot left in this rubble – skeletons of houses that harbor the decaying and the newly dead alike, gaping maws of craters where roads should never have ended – save for that feeling that it’s still a city, sprawled out from where she stands, stone and dirt as far as the eye can see.

And it isn’t hers to lose. Cities don’t do that. They don’t belong to anyone. It doesn’t matter that she knows every street of this section she’s been allotted. Doesn’t matter that she knows exactly how many steps she needs to take every time to move past the tallest skeleton house where death tends to loom in windowseats. (It’s forty-three steps, just like the year she thinks they’re in now, and every time she tries she knows that she’s only safe on step twenty-five when she can duck behind the remains of a bench.)

This city isn’t hers, but it might as well be. Who else remains here but she, allowing the rats to swarm her feet without screeching about it the way she might’ve done in some other life? (Where the sun was not a traitor and Sasha’s smile was not a photograph.) Who else draws breath in this city between one shelling and the next, between one shot and the other, between the tank that cannot move its turret and the carcasses of good intentions? (She’s not alone. There are others here. Sometimes, the streets ring out with song before the silence comes and chokes the air from her lungs.)

It doesn’t feel like it’s hers to keep. They fight for every room in every house. They fight for every street corner. For every alleyway. For every access point below the city, for every vantage point above it, for every route to the water that does not end with blood. They’re losing, they must be, because she’s in new rooms every time she blinks and she’s forgotten the taste of crystal clear water by now. (And they’re not losing, they’re not, because Katya’s exhale is sharp in the morning air and not a single bullet goes to waste. They’re not losing, they can’t, because Sergey moves rock and root to clear their path and then obstructs the way for those who’re following them. They are not losing this city, not while they are here, not while they share whatever food they find and rig the remains to be a trap for the hungry that come after they’ve gone.)

Lately, she’s been functioning on a breath and a prayer.

She’s tried to curb the latter. Tried to stomp it out, to quench its finicky flame, because there’s not a whole lot that gets done with prayer at all. Whatever she’s doing to it – protect us, she snarls, let us live – probably would be classified as demand instead of prayer. She bares her teeth the way wolves do, snap and lock around the panic of inhale-exhale, and offers her throat to the unseen and unheard. May you take me if you think me coward, she seethes, opening her enemy from sternum to throat just like the rabbits Kolya used to skin, but you owe me this fucking city and its fucking peace at this point.

She does not believe in bargaining chips. Does not buy into a truce, or a standoff, or any of the other things they call when they’re all too exhausted and night comes with too swift a foot. She doesn’t think she can cut a deal with a god at all, but there’s only so many breaths she’s got before the panic hits. (She knows it’s that. Can feel the fear of it tremble in her fingertips as she wrenches her knife free. Can feel the huff and puff of it in her lungs, too quick, too constricting. She doesn’t look at the glazed-over eyes of the dead and dying. Can’t meet them, not with the wellspring in the back of her mind that dares her to look and see come and see hear the squalling babe’s cry thunk boom splash –)

She’s alone now, or as alone as someone can be when they know exactly where their allies are and the crudely-drawn map before her tells her more of the story than she’d cared to know. There’s just her in this room, in this fucking cavern the enemy created for itself from the rubble of her houses in her city, and her throat’s parched with a scream that renders her belly full to bursting. (There have been rats here, too, and they’ve eaten and eaten and feasted long before her boots crushed the bones underfoot.)

She’s alone and her breath won’t leave her lungs.

Her hand bleeds around the rock she used to break through the glass casings. (Who puts glass casings in a war? Who makes the glass survive the shatter-bang of bullets?) There’s red drip-dropping onto the parchment, onto the paper and vellum and all the other things they used to tell stories on. Some of her strength is bleeding out of her as she stares at lines she does not understand, as a language she only knows to speak in garbled wartongue glares up at her from note after note.

There’s her tongue here, too, older than their scraps of paper. And thus it came to pass, she squints in the dim light, that the ancients revealed themselves from sea and mountain, hungering in the passageways…

“Fuck that,” she rasps out, recognizing the myth for what it is. Tucks the offending parchment in the same pouch where she keeps her gunpowder. If it survives, it will pass to Kolya who alone knows the chaos that resides within such matter. “Ghost stories. Fairytales. Sad lies to tell our children.”

There’s anger in her belly, coarse and seething, which twists in her lap like a viper’s pit and gleams darkly whenever she allows it to meet a semblance of light. Where will they reveal themselves now that this city is about to fall?

She blinks at the dark that sweeps into her space. Stares at the night that unfolds from the corners of the room, where the dead have met the living earth, and scatters all the light away from itself. There’s dirt in its scent, heavy with muck and grime and something utterly deathless that makes her drop her stone onto the floor. There are shards of dust in her wound that begin to bite and snap at her skin like the embers of a wildfire. Like termites eating their own. There’s ash on her tongue.

She blinks at the dark. The dark blinks back.

“Here,” it says. They say, for they are many. He says, for he is just one man. “Here will I reveal myself.”

“Vyyti, uyti,” she snarls back, voice cracking on the demand of get out, leave. Her eyes widen in a refusal to close for the encroaching dark. “You are not welcome.”

His head tilts. His eyes carry pinpricks of light that should not be warm, except they are and he must think her stupid if he thinks she will follow that. (There is no safety in the light. The light gets you killed. Fire murders, hope dies, the flicker of a flame is only good when attached to something that can raze the enemy to the ground. These things she knows. These things she has learned. She will not follow.)

“You called for me.”

He makes it sound simple. She doesn’t think it is. She huffs. Rolls her eyes for good measure. Tastes the iron twang of blood on her tongue when her head meets the stone wall behind her and she bites down on her lip to stop the dark from changing the colors around her to endless black.

“Any god, any relief,” she spits out, aiming the blood at him despite the gap between them. “Anything that lets me live.” Her laughter is sharp, biting, barking like that of the rabid dogs that have overtaken the river’s second bank. “You must be something desperate, nyet?”

“Not quite.”

Her eyebrow raises. “Everyone here is.”

“I am not everyone.”

“You are here, also,” she points out, rising to her feet soon after. The bones snap and crunch beneath her heel. “Desperate,” she hisses, viper’s venom coating her tongue in earnest now, “tricky, false. Preying on dead and dying, look at you, shadow to hopelessness. What kind of god is that, hm? What are you?”

“I thought you do not believe in gods, Tatiana Ilyinichna.”

“So did I.”

(And she doesn’t, still, though she’s seen the shining ones amid the enemy. She doesn’t, still, though this creature before her speaks her name like a caress and she has not given him such privilege. She doesn’t, still, because to believe is to know the war is lost.)

“I am here,” he says again.

“Congratulations. Now leave.”

“Not…”

“Not…?”

She stares him down, this man with darkness flitting around him, this creature with eyes like midnight, this abomination dressed in a soldier’s garb. Her blood drips from her hand. She’s certain at least one other wound reopened. The burns she sustained from that ill-fated run-in with that tank itch and scrape against her uniform. The hair on the back of her neck stands upright the longer she looks at him. Raises against her as though she were a cat being stroked wrong, as though it means to warn her.

Her sense of danger fled this city long ago. There is just fear now, stark in this room, stark everywhere she walks, and there’s the act of doing.

She walks up to this one, whom all the vellums around her call a god, and aims for its throat.

“There you are,” he says, from beside her this time, because her fist meets air and he moves the way shadows do before the midday sun eats them whole. “There is your fight.”

There’s hunger there, ravenous in the familiar syllables that flood his tongue and coat her language with something utterly foreign, and something that she thinks would’ve sounded like pride if Kolya or Sasha had spoken it. (Kolya never speaks these days. Sasha cannot speak, though she thinks she used to hear his voice in the trees before they burned too.)

“Fuck you,” she replies conversationally, turning and balling her fist anew. “I am not yours to judge.”

“No, you are not. You are mine to want.”

She steps back. Snaps like an animal that knows it is about to be wounded. “Gods don’t want. They take.”

“So let me,” he responds, smile gleaming like hers did in the mirror before she watched herself kill five grown men and a sniveling boy. “Let me take.”

“I do not even know what you are.”

“Don’t you? You, who sung me to life the moment you could speak? You, who took three pills every day to be rid of me?”

“I will eat them as soon as I find them,” she promises. Her voice does not waver, though of course she knows. She knows him. Knows this dark as well as she knows the sound of her own pulse. “You will fall back into shadow. You will not be in me.”

“I expect no less from you, Tatusha.”

“Do not speak that name!”

“Tatiana,” he corrects, so smoothly it is as though he has never uttered Sasha’s name for her at all. “I know your choices. It will only be for this time. For this battle, such as it is.”

“We are losing. I am losing my city.”

He inclines his head. “For now.”

“And you can change it?”

“No.” A beat. An offered hand. “You can. If you are, ah, something desperate.”

He sings in her blood. The dark swallows her, drapes itself around her shoulders like a second coat, turns and enters her wounds until she gasps and her hand jerks upward of its own volition. There’s nothing else to be in this world but desperate. There’s nothing else that remains of her, such as the fear is, such as her heart is also.

Something desperate.

Her hand closes around his. Around theirs. Around hers.

“Good,” says the dark-eyed woman with a voice that sounds like the rush of wings. “Let us begin.”

(Two years and some time to this day, she finally meets the man. He is tall like most of these Americans are, though far more unsmiling than those he is surrounded by, and he fills the room before she turns to greet him. His too-dark eyes barely linger on the patches of blood that still coat her uniform, nor does he seem surprised by the state of her boots or the absence of most of her hair. There’s something of her in the grace of his movements.

She’s alive through them. And she, being who she is, summons her desperation one more time and gives him war.)

[honeekyuu]

hey this is the shy anon from the other day that read through your ao3 and i just wanted to stop in and say to take your time and don’t let these anons get to you. i know you’ve been writing on your ao3 for a while now but your tumblr is literally brand new and i’m honestly at a loss for words that you’re already getting rude anons and people pressuring you to post more.

you seem like a really busy gal and i’d hate for demands like that to burn you out. you’re doing amazing and don’t let anybody be an asshole to you. post what you want when you want/can, i’ve seen far too many people give up on fandom because they feel like they have to constantly churn out content to the detriment of their creativity and passion. you’re so talented and based on the frequency with which you’ve been writing in the last few months it seems like you have a fire in your soul for haikyuu. i hate seeing it taken for granted and i just wanted to let you know you have support in doing whatever the fuck it is you want.

(feel no obligation to reply to this, just wanted to offer some support after seeing such atrocious fandom etiquette literal days into the life of this blog)

wow, i really dont know what to say--

i saw this as soon as you sent it in, but i was honestly super shocked that id gotten it, so ive just been sitting here thinking ab it.

it means probably more than you realize that you sent something so kind. i've been writing for a long long time now (both here on a different blog and on ao3), and it's true that i am very busy, because unfortunately being a phd student and running experiments and spending all my time running back and forth between my advisors and conferences and the lab means i have a schedule thats not really a schedule, and i can never really say when or what im going to be inspired enough to write, enough that i can pull myself out of daily burnout. i experience writing droughts often, sometimes lasting up to a year before i feel the urge to sit down with a doc again. and i have a LOT of half-written fics that have never seen the light of day, which i plan to get back to eventually but which, in reality, may never get finished.

ive gotten so much love and support over the years, and it's brought me back to writing every time. i love haikyuu with my soul, and i think about my fics almost every day because i feel a burning need to write them. if not for anyone else, then just for me.

but this blog is brand new, so, even though that anon i received definitely tops the list of unfriendly comments ive gotten over the many years of writing, i wanted to be as kind and accommodating as possible. because i dont want people to think im ungrateful and will ignore criticism, because no one likes those kinds of writers. but i am also a person, and writing is hard, so i think i will continue to do things my way.

my writing style is this, for anyone who'd like to know: i am erratic, and i dont have an upload schedule, because i cant realistically manage one. i have periods of inactivity, because life is hard, and i have periods of hyperactivity, because i love this fandom and the way that haikyuu makes me feel in a life that's full of terrible feelings. this may annoy some people, and i can understand that. but i cant force myself to write if im not in a place to write, and i cant force myself to stick to one fic at a time, because then it'll be clear that it's been forced.

im extremely annoying and unhinged and feral and i will talk about several different fics and smaus and text threads and headcanons all within the same breath. but i will always write what i love, so if you'd like to see work that is well-loved, feel free to stick around.

thank you very much to everyone whos been so kind in my inbox tonight, and i hope to see you all tomorrow <3

[bravetemptation]

FAITH IN THE FUTURE - LYRIC ANALYSIS

This is about to be the longest thing I’ve ever posted, so buckle up and prepare yourselves cause I’ve been typing this out for three hours.

Disclaimer for any who need it - these are my personal thoughts and opinions as someone who has been in the fandom for 12 years, has listened to the album 10+ times in the last three days, and got to experience some of the new songs live. You don’t have to agree with me. You don’t have to like what I have to say. But you do have to remain respectful, and if I see any nonsense you’ll just get blocked cause I don’t have time to deal with childishness in my inbox.

Below are my thoughts on each of the 16 songs on Faith in The Future. Please enjoy my ramblings 💙💙

The Greatest:

This song has two very clear meanings to me, and I believe them both in equal measure, which is unusual for me, because usually one of the concepts that I see in a song is a bit of a reach, but hear me out. This song is both about his relationship with his fans and how, when apart, it's not special, but together they are far more powerful than they are apart (alone we're only / just as good as the rest / together we're the greatest). In that respect and with that concept, it's the perfect album opener (can personally attest to it being PHENOMENAL as a show opener - the drums beat right in your chest, it's amazing). The other concept is, of course, a relationship, one that they were comfortable in until they had to hide it away (said I had a plan for us / time it came and changed it all / we had to disappear). But even though they did that, how they feel about each other still shows (the way you know something / your face reminded me / of a love you cannot hide / but don't need to tell me why) and reminiscing on the old times, being able to just exist in them in the present when they're together, making up for the time they spend apart when they're together again and the opportunities they missed because of the life they lead and getting to experience those things in their own way (back dancin' in the dark / back to the very start / finding pieces that can fit / making up for what we missed). It ends with the last line of the chorus (Life for us is never over) and it's such a powerful message - that no matter what or when or how, together they're better than they are apart and they will never give up on that.

Written All Over Your Face:

This is truly just Louis writing about Harry being the dramatic aquarius that he is. It's sexy, it's edgy, it's got that really super catchy guitar riff to start it off, and the lyrics just speak of an experience that Louis is very well accustomed to and has dealt with on many occasions (when you don't want coffee in the morning / I know I'm in a hole). That line isn't metaphorical, it's specific. The entirety of the second verse is just pure gold - he's said these things before, he doesn't know why they keep happening, but he knows that when it's over, they'll have the best sex they've ever had. Then, of course, you have the last line of the chorus (So when you find out what we're fighting for / I'll be ready to talk) which again speaks to experience, knowing that he has to wait until Harry figures out what the petty thing is that's bothering him, and then he'll be there waiting to talk it out.

Bigger Than Me:

I've talked about this one at length so I will try to keep it short, but this song is just so powerful in its use of metaphors while also being direct as fuck. It also has a double meaning - one rooted in his experience in the industry, and one rooted in the concept of being queer. The lines that stand out most to me with the first analysis are those at the end of each verse (all of these voices, all of these choices / I don't hear them anymore). So many people have tried to tell him what to do, where to go, who to date, how to do this or that, and he's made mistakes along the way, but now that he's here, comfortable in what he's doing and who he is as an artist and a person, he doesn't hear those voices anymore. When people in his life told him that the music industry would change him, he would just smile and nod, but there was an innate fear that he would lose himself in that process (When somebody told me I would change / I used to hide behind a smile / When somebody told me I would change / I was afraid I don't know why). But he came to the conclusion through all of his experiences that it's okay to change, it's okay to adapt, because the whole thing, the world and his career and the relationships he made along the way were way bigger than just him.

In the concept of the lyrics standing for the journey of queerness, again we come back to the beginning of the chorus. As he grew, matured, figured out what and who he wanted, people always had an opinion on it, would always be giving their two cents to him, and of course he was scared of who he would become because the reactions would be so varied, could take away everything he'd worked for. The longer he kept the secret, the harder it would be to tell the truth. People would say he lied to them, that he changed, but people do that. They change, they grow, they learn, and it's okay to do those things as long as you're staying true to yourself. And he probably felt isolated in his experience. Even knowing that other artists had been through this before, it's hard to look at it that way when it's happening to you, but he finally realized that it's bigger than just him. It's a whole industry, a whole world, of people just like him who are struggling, who are learning, who are going to change, and that thought was a comfort.

Lucky Again:

I've had much longer to think on this one than some of the others, since I've had the leaked version for quite some time (shh don't tell). It took me a while to figure this one out in my own brain, because it didn't quite seem to fit into one solid storyline or concept at first, but thinking about it after having heard Harry's House (and we'll get into the parallels between this album and that one later cause DAMN) and after seeing the Sushi video, I had a few ideas, though still not a solid storyline. I feel like this song is more of a letter to H, especially in the first verse and pre-chorus - talking about how Louis has watched him work really hard to be himself, to be able to express that while still in an industry that isn't open like it should be, and how he gives so much of himself, his kindness, to other people that don't necessarily care about him unless he's making them money, and that he could maybe slow it down a little. But I think it could be conceptually about H possibly being so taken with the idea of wanting to be good, to be enough, to make something of his life, and knowing that Jeff could give it to him. The pre-chorus leans into that idea heavily (if you believe that guy is Superman / they're selling tickets at the cinema) - Jeff being Superman, of course. Louis doesn't trust Jeff, but he trusts Harry to do what's right for himself. But if that life and those things are what helps H get through darker times, then he has to do it, but be careful and hold on tight as he does. The chorus can really relate to Louis - it really says to me that at one point Louis was lost, he didn't know where to go in his solo career, but he figured it out. They had such luck being in 1D, and Harry already has it, and Louis fully believes that he could find that luck again on his own.

Face The Music:

Gay gay gay gay GAY.

Those were my thoughts when I heard it the first time. That first verse is so potent - society tells you what's right and wrong, what's good and bad, what's love and what's hate, and all of that depends on the reality that you live or are taught, but in the end it's all subjective. But Louis knows what he's experienced, and he wants to stay there (I just wanna stay in this moment the rest of my life). He knows what society expects of someone in his position, and he doesn't want to face that reality, so he's choosing to stay with the person he loves, to dance with them, to keep buying them time even when they shouldn't. when it could ruin both of their careers. He doesn't care, because those people are wrong in their outdated expectations. He reminds that person that it's going to be okay, they just need to breathe, take their time, that those luxuries they have aren't as important as what they themselves have with each other, and Louis is okay with forgetting about them (close your eyes and count to ten / if your standing on the edge of falling / open up and looking down / everything that matters is forgotten). It's basically saying "fuck them, I choose you". Beautiful.

Chicago:

When we were told by a radio interviewer that we would know exactly who this song was about, I was so confused when I then read the lyrics because in my mind I'm going "none of his exes, real or fake, have both a brother and a baby so what the fuck". And then it hit me - Zouis. Of course. Because Zayn and Louis were best friends, and much more in tune with their emotions than most men. They would have talked about everything and anything - including what they would name their future kids. Zayn would have been like a brother to Louis, so in turn any of Zayn's friends would be like brothers to Zayn - I think he could be referencing the Naughty Boy incident here (And is your brother doing ok / is he still getting out of fights). The pre-chorus just punches you because Louis probably hated that Zayn was leaving the band but supported him because he knew that's what he needed to do, even if it fucked everything up for everyone else, and then their friendship just kind of blew up and they're both stubborn as fuck and refuse to talk about it. So Louis would be sitting here after all these years wondering if the bitter end to their friendship would turn sweet, if it had been long enough for Zayn to forgive Louis for the things he said and did. While the song has some lines that can allude to this being about a romantic relationship, I think that it's more geared toward a really close friendship that he lost. And I'm also aware that Zayn doesn't live in Chicago, but saying "and if you're lonely in Mechanicsburg" doesn't quite have the same ring to it. This song ended up being one of my absolute favorites.

All This Time:

I also get extreme GAY vibes from this one, and it touches on the theme of wasted time (It's not how you spend the time, it's if you waste it) which Harry has now engrained into my brain, so thanks for that, Harold.

I think it's something unique to the queer experience where you figure out that you're not like everyone else, that there's something that makes you different, and you hold that close to your chest for a long time (I'm tryna find the words to say for ages). You know who you are and sometimes it scares you, sometimes it excites you, and sometimes it can just be downright confusing and demoralizing. Even when you come to a time where you are comfortable with who you are and that maybe other people will be okay with that version of you, and you know where you want your life to go, you can get into a place of doubt (but the truth is I still doubt that what I do can get me home). Even when you find someone that understands your journey, that might have gone on a similar journey of their own, even when you have everything with this person, it's still scary. But in the end, it's been true and real the whole time and it's worth it. Everything is worth it for that person to be in your life, for you to get the chance to love them.

Out of My System:

Honestly, the allegory to queerness and that journey on this album is insane, and this song I think perfectly captures the concept of figuring out you're queer and not wanting it. It was something I encountered in books and movies, actually, the concept of "oh I'll just do it once, get it out of my system, and I'll be normal again", and that's what this song says to me. He talks about moving quickly towards disaster, like he knows deep down that this won't be a one time thing, that it won't fix the problem, but he's ignoring that. The chorus basically says "I've lived my life with this dirty little secret, but I need to get through the rest of my life without this stalking me so I'll do it once". The demons imagery in the second verse reminds me of the same type of imagery in Kill My Mind, which is just a nice callback. BUT these lines are interesting because they can be interpreted one of two ways - either that the demos are the voices of people telling him that his feelings are wrong and he's shoving them away so he can feel alive by being with the person he wants to be with just once, or the demons are the queerness itself, and shoving it away will somehow make him feel more alive. Either way, super powerful. Also, the punk rockness of this song makes me so happy, and it's also a banger live. The energy is unmatched.

Headline:

This one was pretty clear - it's about a relationship that went badly because the person only saw Louis as what he was in the papers, who the papers thought him to be, not as an actual person with feelings. They were quick to believe any story they saw, no matter what information they had to the contrary, and that's why they're no longer in Louis' life. I could see this as something more abstract, where it's not necessarily about Louis personally but as a famous person trying to be with someone who isn't famous/is easily swept up in the tabloid drama. Pretty straightforward, definitely a jam.

Saturdays:

This. Fucking. Song. Wow.

Like ... Louis always has such a way with words, but this one really blew me away.

Stay with me - this one is also about Zayn. Now I can get where people would see it as a romantic song, but I feel like sometimes losing a best friend - not to death or anything but to fued or disagreement - holds a different kind of pain, a more visceral kind, and that's how this song strikes me. Louis and Zayn did everything together those last few years of 1D. They went out, they smoked, they got drunk, they partied, they were ride-or-dies. And Louis himself has said that, in years past, he has not been in a mature enough position to contact Zayn or to talk to him about what happened between them, but lately he has been far more open to the idea. But that doesn't mean that he hasn't been thinking about him (I've been wondering about what you're up to / not for the first time / not for the last time) or remembering the good times they had (and I've been thinking 'bout the things we used to do / not for the first time / not for the last time). There has always been many sayings about drowning your sorrows in drinks, drinking to forget, going out on a Friday/Saturday night, and Louis really leans into that here with a simple yet devastating lyric (We always used to say / "Saturdays take the pain away") and I think Louis thought he would always have that with Zayn, that connection of two people who understood each other on such a deep level, and he never expected it to change. But it did. And now he no longer has that person in his life.

Then you get to the next verse where he talks about how he thinks he sees this person, or he sees two people who remind him of how he once was with his friend, and he freezes cause he has no idea what he would do if it was actually them, or if he had to face what he'd lost, and then he pushes it away (A shadow of you sticks me to the carpet / try to ignore it). But he has to keep reminding himself that some things change, and yeah it sucks, and yeah, his heart might be broken at the loss of his friendship, but he refuses to let it destroy his life (My heart might be broken / but I won't be broken down). And then how all the instrumentals and backing vocals just drop out for the final lines of the chorus, it's almost like as he reaches the end of the song, he actually believes what he's been telling himself this whole time, and it resembles starting to let go of the pain and resentment and moving forward. One of, if not THE, best songs on the album, don't come for me. (Also I truly can't BELIEVE he ended his set like this on Friday, I left depressed as fuck haha)

Silver Tongues:

Before I go into this one, I just have to say that the transition from Saturdays to Silver Tongues is absolute genius. That is all.

Now. When I heard this for the first time, it was like blue and green alarm lights were going off in my brain, not gonna lie. While I do think that this song has an overarching theme of found family and having the best time of your life with people who understand you and never wanting to go home after being with those people, I just ... see it as a song about being in love with your best friend. The pre-chorus and chorus really say it all - there is one person who understands Louis like no other, who makes him the happiest he's ever been, who he shares inside jokes with and has written songs with and only the two of them can understand what it's like. And we both know that Harry would be the one to call it a night on a night out and Louis would be the one who would want just one more drink, so there's that for you. And then you go into the second verse which is so fucking domestic and adorable, because even when Louis is like you're such a hypocrite, you say I can't like weed cause it's bad but you can drink vodka and it's fine, he's still like I love you, I get you. (You said grass was a dirty drug / you like to preach with my vodka in your mug / I love all the things you know). Then we hit PEAK VOCALS (so far) with that next part, where he admits that they can both be stubborn, they can both say stupid shit, but in the end, they love each other, they have a plan, everything is better when they're together and they'll keep making it work because neither of them want anyone else (you and me until the end / waking up to start again / there's no where else that I would rather be).

I could also see the argument of this being about Louis' time in 1D and this song being nostalgic, looking back at the good times, knowing that no one will ever understand him like his boys do, but no matter what you believe, this song is just happy, bouncy, amazing all around. (And would be a great show ender in the encore cause we are all so much happier at concerts and we never wanna go home - it’s amazing to scream that with Louis).

She Is Beauty, We Are World Class:

I had to listen to this one several times before it grew on me - the lines were short and coming right after Silver Tongues, I don't think my brain was ready for it (which is exactly how I felt when I heard Sushi for the first time). But I think this one is about the music industry. Someone did an in depth analysis of this concept already, so I won't repeat what they said, but each line refers to a different aspect of the music industry - knowing what to say and when (Conversation is currency), dealing with paps (Finding faces in the trees), not knowing whether you're your own person or a brand or both (Are we one or are we two? / Are we me or are we you?), and constantly being in the spotlight with every single step you make (surrounded by light). It's a really innovative way to talk about the reality of the industry without calling anyone or anything out directly.

Common People:

This song brought up so many pictures in my mind - Louis as a kid growing up surrounded by such a good parental figure in Jay and being part of a big family (I came from a good home / a house full of terrace dreams) and being okay with living that life because that's all he knew (that was enough for me), but knowing others who didn't grow up that way wouldn't understand (you know, you had to see it to believe). He talks about Doncaster with such reverence, such nostalgia, and you can tell that his heart will always consider that home. He was one of the common people, and at his core, he will always see himself that way, even when his fame becomes apparent to him through others (common people, nothing's changes / you'll hear strangers singing your name). The first line of the second verse (I took her to the local) made me immediately think of him taking Bebe there to film the video for Back To You, and how she asked for sushi and he was like HA no, we don't have sushi here. Just introducing someone who didn't live that life to the intricacies and excitement of something simple in a place that you love can be a really grounding experience.

Angels Fly:

This one was a really hard one for me, because I had an immediate thought and then I was like ... IDK if I wanna talk about that one, it seems tooooooo personal (if you had the same thought as me you'll know exactly what I mean). I think it can be a comforting song - there are definitely good lyrics for that in there (You'll be okay, we can talk tomorrow .../...I wanna hear all that, but right now / you know it's not where we're going). But it also almost feels like a song you would write in retrospect after losing someone. There's a theme running through here of saying "it's alright, I know you're hurting or you have something to say, but there's always tomorrow, we can wait, take your time" when we all know that there isn't always tomorrow. Shit happens. We lose people. And when I think of that, the last bit of the chorus makes a kind of haunting sense (If every star is an eye in the sky / you'll see angels fly) - it makes me think of telling a dying child that they're going to heaven, trying to make things seem beautiful when they're terrifying and horrible. Either way, this song rips me apart in both the best way of someone actually caring to come and take care of me when I feel like shit, and in the worst way of losing someone and not having the time you thought you had with them.

Holding on to Heartache:

This song is 100% about One Direction and how Louis felt lost and resentful after the band went on hiatus. I truly can't hear it any other way, and unless I'm crazy, he pulled off some pretty clever lyrics that lead me to this very point. The whole first verse is very much a person looking back, seeing something for what it was instead of what it felt like in the moment (we knew that all would change / creates the strangest feeling / just slowly waiting for the end). He still thinks about it often, how they lived every moment thinking it couldn't get bigger, better, but they also knew there was a time limit on it, something they ignored steadfastly until they couldn't anymore (The moments as they came .../... because we faded into darkness .../... I can still hear a clock that's ticking). Louis has said himself that he was finally finding his place, his confidence in the band, and then they were on a break and it wasn't something he wanted or was ready for, and I think, in holding onto that pain, he stopped himself from embarking on his solo journey for a long time. He didn't understand, he wanted answers (the questions that I'd ask you / "where did it all go wrong?"). Then the bridge - the glorious bridge that I can't wait to scream on tour with him - hits, and you can feel what he felt - the sensation of suddenly being on his own (you know the party's over / when you're standing in an empty space alone), the realization that he would need time to recover (And time can always heal you / if you let it make its way into your bones), the raw honesty towards himself (Nothing's ever easy / to be honest, I'm not easy on myself) and towards the others' careers (The second that I see you / the space between us just comes flooding back). As he fades out the last chorus, in comes again the realization that he might need to let go of any lingering resentment, because in the end, this was what was always going to happen with the circumstances they were surrounded with.

And it was at this moment on my tenth listen that I realized that some of the lyrics were referencing (in my opinion) One Direction songs - "It's gonna drag me down"; "the moments as they came"; "the nights, they change in seasons"; "the space between us just comes flooding back". These could be coincidences, of course, but I think Louis is clever with his writing, and that this might have been intentional.

That's The Way Love Goes:

This song surprised me with how much I liked it, and I think it's all down to the fact that this is not at all your typical love song, but rather the opposite. He's consoling a friend who broke up with their girlfriend, trying to pull them out of the funk they've been in since the relationship ended with a little tough love (Here are some words I know that you don't wanna hear / "I think she's moved on, mate, it's almost been a year") and just explaining to them that they aren't the only one to experience this, that it's a universal experience (that's the way, that's the way love goes). Then there's a beautiful callback to Miss You (Remember when you told me I should give it time?) and kind of a nudge to get a move on, put your shoes back on and rejoin society, it will all be okay in the end. And the brutal honesty in explaining that the level of pain felt directly correlates to how much you loved that person (When it cuts you, when you bleed / that's when you're feeling it the most). It's a beautiful song of reassurance in the classic Louis way, and a great way to end an album - on a sense of hope for a better, brighter future.

There was this one other point that I wanted to make about Louis as a lyricist - Louis does this thing where he changes the lyrics from the first to second verse/pre-chorus (See Bigger Than Me - All of these/those voices; All This Time - I/you still doubt that what i/you do can get me home; Out of My System - Gotta get it off of my chest/out of my head; Saturdays - the ones that you wore when you walked out the door/but you're not here anymore) that I love because it's such a small thing but words have such impact, such power, and a small switch can hint at a large change in perspective.

This album is no skips, absolute perfection, and perfectly encapsulates who Louis is as a person, the things that he's experienced, and his ability to craft relatable stories through his words, be they personal or abstract. His voice was clearly made for this genre, and I can't wait to hear even more when he tours next year and when LT3 starts cooking.

[autistic-katara]

ok finally making that writing post-

hi! i’m Ryan, or Raines_Adopted_Son on AO3. i write fanfic (mainly angst) and my inbox/dms/ao3 comments r always open for requests, here are some guidelines:

fandoms i will write for: (keep in mind i join new fandoms all the time so if theres a fandom u want me to write that isnt here that u think i like just ask, i probably forgot to update it // will say next to the fandom if ive written for it before or not)

Stranger Things (written for it before)

The Spiderverse Movies (written for it before)

The Owl House (written for it before)

Nimona (haven’t written before)

PJO/Riordanverse (including mcga and tkc // written for it before)

ATLA (including lok/the kyoshi novels // written for it before)

Heartstopper/Osemanverse (haven’t written before)

Jackson’s Diary (written for it before)

Bungou Stray Dogs (haven’t written before)

The Dragon Prince (have written but never posted)

Derry Girls (haven’t written before)

Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency (haven’t written before)

Good Omens (haven’t written before)

stuff i enjoy writing/specialise in:

shortish one-shots (1k-2.5k words // i would like to write longer and/or multichapter stuff, this is just my current level)

angst

hurt/comfort

heavier topics relating to mental health stuff (depression, eating disorders, self-harm, suicidal characters, etc.)

queer (specifically trans) stuff

stuff i feel uncomfortable writing/am unsure if i’m able to write it but wanna push my boundaries on: (aka send me requests but theres less of a chance i’ll write it)

nsfw stuff/smut

depictions of abuse (non-romanticised obv)

depictions of SA (specifically just the recovery tho, i am NOT writing non-con)

longer fics

multichapter fics

pure fluff (idk if i’m able to write smthn w/o angst 😭)

stuff i will not write: (do not ask me to write this stuff :))

nsfw/smut of characters under the age of 15 (that being my current age // still kinda iffy abt characters 15-17 but yk)

stuff that romanticises things like SA or abuse

any ships where both a) at least one of the characters is a minor and b) the age gap is canonically 3 years or more (emphasis on canonically, looking at u punkflower antis)

incest

other stuff i wasn’t sure how to fit in:

when it comes to depicting types bigotry or hate or whatever theres some stuff i feel comfortable including and some stuff i dont (obviously in a non-romanticised way as just like part of what a character experiences):

homo/transphobia, i’m fine with including this, i am queer + trans and feel like i could sensitively depict those topics.

racism/xenophobia, i dont rlly feel comfortable writing abt this stuff given that i’m white i rlly dont think id be able to write that stuff properly like at all.

ableism/saneism, depends on the type tbh, maybe subtle ableism to an autistic character (i am autistic) and casual ableism to a chronically ill character (i am chronically ill) but other than that ehhhh

antisemitism, while i am Jewish and have experienced it myself, for personal reasons i’m not comfortable writing stuff including it, even if its subtle and not a big thing (other kinds of religious discrimination i wont write simply cause idk enough about allat and dont wanna be insensitive abt it)

thats all i could think of for that one but next thing: i dont like AUs. its not like i hate them or anything, and if i time traveled to the future and found out i learned to love them i would be ecstatic since thats more fics for me, but for some reason i just don’t enjoy reading/writing them (excluding canon divergence, i wouldn’t mind writing a fic with canon divergence // didn’t wanna put this in the hard-no section cause again its not like they’re smthn i hate or am disgusted by or anything, i just don’t find them appealing)

also if u dont know what i ship/what ships id be ok w/ writing just ask, a couple of them should be clear based on what i rb/post tho lmao (still if u gotta ask, ask)

anyways yeah thats all i could think of for now, i probably forgot smthn important so i might edit this later + lmk if u have any questions srsly id love to answer :)

[marirah]

20 questions for fic writers

thank you @vellaphoria for tagging me!

20 Questions for Fic Writers

How many works do you have on AO3?

oof okay it's a lot. i have two accounts, and one of them is over 10 years old so....

metukah (est 2013): 185

marirah (est 2022): 85

for a total of 270 works... oof

What’s your total A03 word count?

metukah: 407,889

marirah: 133,069

total: 540,958

What fandoms do you write for?

DC these days. I started in the one direction fandom, played around with Percy Jackson, the MCU, and Star Trek

What are your top five fics by kudos?

marirah:

Protected - T Sladick. After another blowout fight with Bruce, Dick offers to let his little brothers move in with him. And the mystery boyfriend they've never heard of before. (3.5k)

Daily Planet: Live From Gotham - G Superbat. Clark has an old crush on Batman and a new crush on Bruce Wayne. Lois is merciless. (3.5k)

Red - E JayTim. Jason doesn't know who this Red is or why he's in Dick's apartment, but it doesn't matter in the end. (6k)

Unread - G Jason & Dick. Jason finally caves to the kid's demands that he clear out his inbox. As it turns out, Dick has been writing to him for years. (1.5k)

Loud - G DickTim. Tim finds a little bird in his Nest and takes him home. (1k)

metukah:

Introducing Us - G batfam gen, side StephCass. The Justice League doesn’t know how many bats there are, or where Batman is keeping them all. (1.9k)

Field Trip - G Peter Parker & the Avengers. Peter Parker and his classmates take a trip to Stark Industries. He only spends about half of it wanting to melt into the floor. (3.2k)

I'm (Not) a Mess - G JayRoy. Roy Harper is Neal Caffrey. He's not letting that get in the way of his relationship with his daughter. (4.7k)

Ninjas as a Catalyst - G Birdflash. Peter doesn't like to remind people of how good an investigator he is, but he can definitely connect the dots. (4k)

Double Take - G Birdflash. Several years after Neal Caffrey disappears, Peter and Elizabeth are visiting El’s cousin Wally, who is engaged to Dick Grayson. Who used to be Neal Caffrey. (1.2k)

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i'm not really that angsty a writer i think? i thought letter (dicktim, SPYRAL) had an angsty ending but i checked, and... it doesn't really lmao

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i mostly write happy endings, but my favorite one technically isn't up yet. i'm just really happy with how my joint year of the otp/year of jason and slade series is going.

Do you get hate on your fic?

luckily, i don't really!

Do you write smut?

absolutely (see above lmao)

Do you write crossovers?

i've written a lot of white collar x dc, and i've been playing with dc x marvel x percy jackson recently

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of

Have you ever had a fic translated?

i had someone ask once but i don't think anything ever came of it

Have you ever co-written a fic?

i had a co-written series once

What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

right now it's 1000% dicktim! (send me a message to join an 18+ dicktim server!)

What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i have trouble finishing anything longer than a oneshot, they just rot in my scrivener files forever

What’s your writing strengths?

does fluff count? i like my fluff

What’s your writing weaknesses?

keeping up with things longer than 1k. also i tend to burn myself out

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i'd feel more comfortable with it if i spoke the language. but i have been known to use pet names from other languages sometimes, namely Hebrew

First fandom you wrote for?

the first thing i ever wrote (in middle school) was technically percy jackson self insert. i just wanted to be friends with percy and annabeth. i still want to be friends with percy and annabeth

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

oh man. pretty much everything i write, i write for myself, so all of my works have been my favorites at one point. right now, i'm really happy with Negative and Aperature, which are a series with reverse Robins dicktim.

I tag @klarion-the-witch-boy , @the-alice-of-hearts , @ginbenci, and @bittercape

[ojcobsessed]

hello, have you heard about the writers' guild of america strike happening? and now it's looking that the actor's guild may go on strike too? do you think that will affect the filming of surface season 2?

hello. yes i've been reading a lot about the ongoing 2023 wga strike as well as the seemingly imminent screen actors guild strike too.

i have already had a couple of people asking me about this in my inbox (not sure if it's the same person if so sorry i will only be responding to this one unless something new happens because they're very similar questions) so here is what i know as of right now.

as we know due to oliver's now-deleted instagram story from earlier today, surface s2 began filming this week in london, england.

an instagram follower theorized to me that maybe they were able to get started shooting s2 during the wga strike "because they had all the scripts for s2 finished before the strike started" or that perhaps they were able to hire uk writers to work on the show.

if the former is the case then while it's technically true that they can legally proceed with shooting, it also means that they can't make a single solitary change to any of the scripts until the strike is over and must shoot every single line exactly as written.

any change in dialogue or scenes is struck work and considered scabbing and anyone caught doing it including actors, will be banned from ever joining the wga.

that's a big problem for shooting because things change daily on sets and under normal circumstances scripts get rewritten daily. actors sprain ankles and have to do a scene sitting down or a character hase to be written out altogether or a planned shots don't work, locations weren't able to be secured in time or things simply don't sound right when said out loud. a thousand things can happen and none of that can be changed without writers during a strike.

if however they hired uk writers to finish the scripts or be on call for rewrites then the entire production is in violation of wga rules (source) as its an american production that would normally fall under the jurisdiction of a wga contract.

to be clear international writers themselves aren't prohibited, per se, from accepting the struck work, but doing so means that they'll be strictly banned from ever doing any paid professional film or television writing in america for the rest of their careers. that anyone would risk that for surface seems... unlikely to me. but then i'm not a tv writer.

as for the screen actors guild, their national board just voted today to ask their members to authorize a strike as well, which, yes means that the production of surface will grind to a screeching halt when that goes into effect.

an instagram follower asked if i was sore oliver was a current member of sag. yes i'm sure.

this is a screenshot of a search for "surface" from the publicly searchable production database on sagaftra.org:

as shown surface is under sag contract and if/when sag-aftra strikes, then the entire cast must strike as well, including oliver and gugu. as its a sag-aftra production everyone on it with a principal role must either already be or become a member of sag -- even if they're not american citizens and even if they are filming abroad. though oliver has likely been a sag-aftra member for years now, seeing how all of netflix and nbc's productions are the same.

for the record this blog is 100% pro-labour and my personal feeling is that if these contract negotiations mean we have to wait a few months for stranger things ands severance and hacks, all of which have already shut down in solidarity with the strike, we can certainly wait a few more months for another season of surface.