Guess it's about time I make one of these, huh? Okay, okay. Look, I've got a decent chunk of change in fics, and while they're still all up for public consumption, a lot of the older ones are probably better off being left alone and away from anyone's eyeballs unless you'd like for them to bleed inside your head.
With that being said, we're going to cover the highlights here (in other words, whatever i want to broadcast or until i get too lazy to keep listing them, whichever comes first).
All fics can be found on my AO3 (and there are so many more).
Wolfstar (Series)
At the Healing Edge of Broken - (Series - Ongoing) - Explicit
Scatter the Shadows - (Series - Complete) - Explicit
Omg I was going to make this exact post (insert pointing spiderman meme).
IMO the rise of the Sirius being vain and stupid thing (and the idea that he is the ‘woman’ of the relationship) is absolute linked to red-pill, tradwife, in your feminine energy and ‘I’m just a girl’ bullshit (which filters in here and gets regurgitated uncritically).
I’ve been saying for awhile that some of the takes on here wouldn’t sound out of place on one of those manosphere/ tradwife podcasts that conflate femininity with lack of intelligence and the need to be ‘led’.
Essentially he is stripped of his intelligence because fandom has assigned him as the ‘feminine’ in Wolfstar so he has to be a bimbo (heteronormativity and gender essentialism y’all definitely know her).
fun fact if your music is loud enough Thoughts Do Not Exist And You Are Calm. do not pay attention to your heart rate and do not accidentally hit pause
yeah the guy who invented them made incredibly precise infusion pumps (as opposed to gravity fed ivs) which not only meant they could give medications to teeny tiny babies safely, it's also used for insulin pumps and portable dialysis machines. the key element is that it's a peristaltic pump so the liquid stays in sterile tubing for safety
(unholy drink cloaca uses it to dispense precise amounts of flavored sugar syrup)
Even better, the comments to this Twitter post were an absolute FIRESTORM of mostly dudes explaining to her that dials can’t only have 2 positions (not true) and that it wasn’t a very good piece (not true) that she was being disrespectful to her teacher (don’t care) and that it was a sign of her stupidity/rabid feminism/intellectual laziness/misandry/etc. that she couldn’t see any “middle ground.”
It became, in its way, a performance piece. I was absolutely mesmerised, even as I wished I could cock-punch people through the internet.
“Dials can’t have only 2 positions” is also missing the point. Even if it doesn’t have only 2 positions, the point stands that getting less of/farther away from “raging feminist” requires getting more of/closer to “complicit in my own dehumanization.” You should always be at 0% having to be complicit in your own dehumanization.
Harry literally choked a man in a crowded street for stealing shit from No. 12 that Sirius dgaf about and people still have the audacity to say he wasn’t affected by Sirius’ death after OotP
Reblog if you’d rather give yourself papercuts between each of your fingers and then rub hand sanitizer all over your hands than use generative AI to write or draw anything ever
I think I'm at that point in my life where I'm not into pouring heart, effort, and time into fics nobody engages with.
See, whenever authors complain about the lack of engagement, we always get slapped with the generic advice: just write for yourself, as if wanting to engage with our readers for something shameful.
As if we should be disgusted with ourselves for craving the connection with our fellow fans, but the thing is, most of us already write for ourselves.
We tell ourselves funny little stories in our heads, we daydream, we write notes and messy drafts. And guess what? It's fun and satisfying, and no one gets to see those stories. No one gets to read them. That's what writing for ourselves looks like.
But when it comes to posting - it's work. If you want the story to be somewhat good and not riddled with errors and typos (so as not to provide TikTokers with more ammunition for the videos where they mock fics for not being perfect, or if you simply take pride in your work), you have to edit. You have to proofread. You have to give it to beta readers. You have to proofread again, then post, come up with a summary and tags, and maybe promo the fic. All this is not a super fun process. At least not for me, and not for the majority of my writer friends.
We do it to engage with the fandom. With other fans. We want to share our unhinged headcanons and funny scenarios, and enjoy other people's reactions to seeing our blorbos going through situations.
Contrary to popular belief, authors are not chasing fame or ego pats or publishing deals, unless you're MsKingBean, apparently. Just connections. And every time it's missing, and we happen to complain about people being unwilling to comment or interact in any meaningful way, we hear "just write for yourself."
Careful what you wish for. Because authors might just take your advice to heart - and then there will be no more fics for you to read.
This. This is the thing. Like, I have folders worth of unfinished thoughts and scraps of stories that I’ll never post because they’re just not readable but i’ve put them on paper just for myself to look at later. Sometimes literally just copy-paste of convos I have with friends, fandom or not, that have no real beginning or end. I don’t plan of posting any of that.
When I do post, there is a level of seeking for connection there. After all, that’s always been the whole point of fandom. Do you want to tell to the Trekkie Housewives writing fanfics and mailing them to each other, risking their whole lives being blown up, that they should ‘just write for themselves’? I’m sure many did. That’s not what gave rise to fandom, though.
concept for a tv show: a cute simple love story between an assistant and a chauffeur or bodyguard or whatever else rich people have and in the background the rich people are having the wildest telenovela level drama that we only catch glimpses of
(Flustered assistant) "So... do you want to go on a coffee date?"
(Very flustered bodyguard) "I'd love to!"
(While they're looking at eachother cutely, we hear a woman screaming in the background "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CHEATED ON ME WITH MY BROTHER???" . Then somebody jumps off a window)
Who's looking forward to more unhinged Prongsfoot pining tomorrow?
Sirius has exchanged the towel for a pair of grey sweatpants but didn’t bother to put on anything else. His feet remain bare. His nipples and abs are fully on display, tempting James to lick them, and the dark strip of hair on his lower belly points to ruination and bad decisions like the world’s most devilish arrow.
“Are you allergic to t-shirts?” James asks, his tone snippy, but his voice husky from the current of desire raging through his veins. He flicks the TV on to occupy his eyes with something other than Sirius.
“Yes,” Sirius replies without missing a beat. “Too restrictive.”
He appropriates James’ bag of crisps and begins systematically demolishing it, one crisp at a time, not sparing James a glance, his face outlined in the screen’s bluish light.
James swallows a groan and sinks deeper into the sofa. This is going to be a long evening.
