#i recognize your username but i don't have a direct tag for you and i'm so sorry about that

[breitweisergallery]

1, 2, 6, 18, and 25 from the asks list! 1/2/6 for TDJ fics and 18/25 for took talks revelations

is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

I posted most of the snippets of things I had started and never finished. I spent a lot of time in @thedeviljudges 's dms talking about the political au where Gaon worked in Yohan's office, and also the fae one. I was really excited to possibly one day work on the fae one because there was something about it that just felt fun. We don't have enough magic in the aus for TDJ.

what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

Almost definitely the earliest ones. I wrote my first 3 (?) TDJ fics while having only watched about half the show, I think? It took me almost six months to watch the final episode so a lot of even my early fics were written before I'd finished the show.

something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now

I mean... I started rewriting the entirety of imagining the integration because I just didn't love how it was going.

I'm really bad at not posting the second I have something written and I feel like if I finished projects and then posted them things would go a little better. :')

were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

Oh, god yeah. It definitely depends on fic vs fiction, genre, etc.

I mentioned in a previous ask that I almost always return to Hannibal and Harry Potter as fandoms that influenced me greatly. For a while I had thought about putting together an outright list of fics across the, like, 85 fandoms that I still read for on occasion that influenced me either in writing choices or writing style.

For published writing, the Kingkiller Chronicles by Patrick Rothfuss, House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski, Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales, Edgar Allan Poe, Tolkien, The Ranger's Apprentice Series by John Flanagan, and (coming close to doxxing myself here but) Alan Silberberg is actually a friend of mine and he himself as a person has been a major influence on my choice to go into writing professionally.

copy paste a few sentences or a paragraph that you're particularly proud of

Gonna hit you with the opening scene to the novel I've been working on because why not? (writing below the cut)

An unholy rhythm kept in line by the marching of soldiers atop the cobblestone streets of Aktas echoes through the streets is not enough to cover the tolling of the bells from the northwest side of the Courtyard. The bell call to all the promise of another death, another head removed from a so-called false prophet. Crowds whisper and gather in the Courtyard, approaching from the narrow alleys between the Worship Hall and the Mess.

One man pushes past, through the crowds, towards the city at large. His blue robes mark him a man of faith; the staff held in his hand mark him a Bav, a carrier of the magic of the gods. Even beneath the light cloth of his hood, his eyes are sharp, too sharp — odd enough that many look away upon seeing him, avoiding eye contact as best they can. Few murmur the proper greeting, “may the sun shine light on you, Bav,” and fewer still bow their heads; even in a city so filled with the faith, the people are a superstitious lot.

The Bav cuts down a quiet alley, each step confident and sure even as he scans the empty space for any person, any thing, that might whisper all the way to the Khonhey of his activities outside of the Church.

The sounds of boots atop cobblestone stops suddenly. The bells ring out one more time before silence falls and the Bav turns his head to look behind him as a roar of a crowd goes up. His pace quickens through the alleys, until he reaches a near-empty street and hurries to a dust-covered door, rapping on it sharply with his staff. “It’s me,” he says softly, his voice and tone alike soft and almost musical. The door opens and a gloved hand shoots out, pulling him inside and just as quickly shuts and locks the door behind him.

“Were you seen?” the man inside asks, glancing over his shoulder at the now-closed door.

“No. They are all focused on the commotion at the Gallows,” the Bav replies, letting out a long breath. “We need to move our plans up, Sime. He’s nearly been caught three times this week alone. I recommended caution and he doesn’t listen.”

“He’s young. Can you blame him?” Tahsim Anyis turns, picking a jug up from the table. “Drink?” He pours without waiting for a reply, extending the cup behind him to the Bav. “We’ll need a serious distraction to get him out of the city. And then we’ll both be dead men walking, you and I.”

“As if we are not already,” the Bav mutters and takes a long drink.

[thephoebeyates]

≈ the vault nightclub, friday 13th september 2024. with @just-foster

‘Fake it ‘til you make it’ was bullshit. Phoebe was trying to have a good time when out with a small group of girls from her seminar, though she could admit obsessively checking her Instagram was probably not the way to go about things. 

She should have blocked Foster on everything, should have just deleted him and truly moved on. But she noticed he was always one of the first people to view her story, whether it be a song shared from Spotify, a quote, or a little candid shot of Misty sleeping. Unless he was at work, then he’d view it last. So, it came as a surprise that this Friday — when he should have been finishing up dinner service — his username was the first one to have popped up on the view count of her story: a picture of a line of glasses perched on the wall surrounding the dance floor area. An idea struck her then, and she asked one of the girls she was out with to take a picture of her outfit when they were taking a fresh air break in the smoking area.

It wasn’t something she usually would have worn. In fact, Phoebe was convinced it was some old Halloween costume, or perhaps cheer outfit. Regardless, the top with the glittery ‘P’ drew her in immediately when she saw it on the hanger in Thrift Haven, and the matching mini-skirt was just an added bonus. She had felt self-conscious at first, constantly tugging the garment down where it barely rested over her ass, or using her faux fur shawl to drape over her, but as the night continued — and as more alcohol hit her system — she felt herself grow more confident. 

After the mini photoshoot was completed, she uploaded the picture, tagging her location and the Taylor Swift song she was quoting, and obsessively waited for some sort of Foster interaction to come. Nothing. She uploaded another story, a crowd shot of the dancefloor, which he had viewed about ten minutes later. But after looking through the comments and likes on the physical post, it wasn’t like he had even seen it. But she wouldn't stop checking.

Eventually, the girls managed to get her onto the dancefloor. She didn't really recognize the song playing, but it was an easy enough beat to move her hips to, and she soon found herself almost fully forgetting about Matty Foster and whether or not he had seen her Instagram post. However, then a new problem arrived. In the shape of a man in an ill-fitting linen shirt that only seemed to highlight his sweat patches, mimicing her movements just a little bit of the side to the group of girls. In response, they moved. He followed, eyes on Phoebe the entire time. After a couple of songs, she began to grow sick of this behavior, deciding to get a drink and hopefully lose him in the crowd. But the guy managed to stay hot on her heels, approaching her as she leaned across the bartop.

"What's your name?" He asked, question innocuous enough, but there was something uncomfortable about his gaze.

"I'm not interested." Phoebe responded, turning back to try and get the bartender's attention.

"Oh come on, dollface, don't be like that. I saw you shaking it out there. You're a real tease..."

Phoebe bit back a reply, determindedly staring at the shelf of liquor behind the bar. The guy still continued, stepping closer. Grabbing her shoulder, lurching her body into his direction.

"It's rude to ignore people y'know. C'mon, you love the attention, don't cha? And there's no need to play hard to get..."

Phoebe huffed out an irritated breath, tugging away from the man and glaring. "I'm. Not. Interested." She repeated slowly, as if the issue was him misunderstanding her in the first place rather than his inability to take 'no' for an answer.

He didn't budge, the grasp on his shoulder even tighter. Around them, everyone partied on. And the dread settled in Phoebe's stomach, praying that someone, anyone, was witnessing this and would step in to help.

[tangepr]

This certain user sent me a message telling me that me liking only their emiya post is weird, and that it makes them uncomfortable. Uhhhh I have no idea how I should approach this, but leaving it sit there without me saying anything leaves a bad taste in my mouth. This user seems to have already blocked me so they most likely won't be seeing this but eh, I'm doing this mostly for my own sense of ease.

If they or anyone want to block me I don't mind, I would be none the wiser and it wouldn't be my problem, but blocking me after telling me that is pretty weird, and somewhat feels petty. Why bother to message me at all? If they block me without messaging me I wouldn't have noticed. I assume this person is new to tumblr or something like that, because many people here like stuff simply to bookmark the post to be further inspected later or just, yknow, bc they like it. And I like their emiya stuff bc they're the latest posts of emiya's tag when sorted by latest, there's nothing deeper to it. Dude, I didn't even recognize your username and had to check my like list to understand what you're referring to, I promise you it's nothing personally directed at you.

I feel like I need to explain myself, because I would hate to make anyone uncomfortable, and it's never been my intention to make anyone so, but I can't even do that, so I'll be petty and post this and tag it so it can be seen, bc I just spent a significant amount of time worrying about this and writing this whole thing.