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drivelikeiido · 1 year

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want me

(mohawk) matty can't seem to keep his eyes off of you at the bar

matty healy x f! reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: smoking and alcohol and a lil smutty but no actual smut (maybe i’ll write it in a part 2 if y’all are interested in that ?) BUT NO MINORS IDC GET AWAY

notes: sorry this took so so long to write i’ve been in a writing slump but i’m back !! and i apologise for edging you with not actual smut once again but that’s just how it is ! i prefer writing longing over actual smut anyways but if y’all want a part 2 i could be persuaded. also this idea originally came to me while listening to crying lightning by the arctic monkeys so do with that what you will.

Stereotypical summer weather is a rarity in England so the minute the sun came out Matty invited you to join him and the boys and their girlfriends at the pub, which is how you’ve ended up in a rather seductive battle of wills with your boyfriend. He somehow thinks his staring over the top of his sunglasses while playing a game of pool with the boys is subtle but in reality his feelings towards the short summer dress you’re currently wearing are blatantly obvious, which means you just have to tease him a little - you play your own little game while he plays his.

You sit on a table opposite where the boys are playing, sharing a pitcher of some fruity, more alcohol than mixer, concoction with the girls, chatting and catching up in low content voices while you make the most of the golden sun that warms you and casts a glow onto your skin. You hadn’t seen all the girls in some time so you appreciated the chance to catch up with them in such a relaxed setting, everyone’s mood boosted by the appearance of the sun and the weather it brings. The stuffy British heat gradually makes you feel uncomfortable and you begin to fan yourself with an old cocktail menu sitting on the table, your hair moving with the breeze and exposing your neck and sun soaked chest more, an action that doesn't go missed by Matty’s watchful eyes. He still pretends to be fully absorbed in his game of pool but his glances over your way become more and more frequent, his hands becoming restless as he taps out some unknown staccato beat on the bottle in his hands, the beads of condensation running down his lithe fingers and dropping to the ground. The boys are far too used to Matty’s frequent musings and distracted behaviour when it comes to you so they pay no heed to his distracted state, Hann poking his side when it was his turn to play, a knowing smile gracing his lips.

At one point Matty catches your eye and you wave innocently over, your neutral appearance betraying the playful thoughts running in your head. The girls at the table have also taken notice of your boyfriend’s not so subtle staring, giggling amongst themselves and encouraging whatever mischief you’re thinking of starting with hushed voices, comments being thrown around about how obviously obsessed he is with you. However that wholesome notion is short lived as one of the girl’s nudges you and motions over to Matty, his dark eyes trained on you as he looks you up and down once more, moving his sunglasses further down his nose, his actions far from subtle as he devours you with his eyes. Ross too clocks onto this and kicks Matty’s sneakered foot in a jokey manner, his laughter floating into the air as you hear him jokingly scold your boyfriend to “Behave”, a subtle blush makes its way onto Matty’s cheeks in his embarrassment at being caught by his friend. He raises his hands, pool cue still clutched in his left, in a show of apology, grinning over to you as he mouths “Sorry, love”, however both of you know this apology is nowhere near genuine as he truly has no plans whatsoever to cease his overt appreciation for his girlfriend.

His hands return to his side as he pulls out his cigarettes, offering them to the boys and lighting one up himself, his cheeks hollowing as he inhales the acrid smoke. You have to hold in the sigh threatening to spill from your lips, your fingers finding a sudden interest in the blue striped straw in your glass, anything to take your focus off the hypnotic man in front of you. You try and think of anything else to calm your racing brain but thoughts of your boyfriend’s pretty plush lips circling around the cigarette and how his talented fingers balance it in his hands do nothing to quell the unignorable need you’re already feeling for him. The cigarette rests on his lips that now seem etched into a permanent smirk, your boyfriend taking pleasure in knowing how the sight of him smoking always has this effect on you, his nicotine addiction working in his favour at this moment in time to make you as desperate for him as he is for you.

Matty’s cigarette has since been savoured and finally put out, however the thoughts of your boyfriend's talented fingers and pink lips still occupy the front of your mind and go straight to your core. The suspended smell of smoke in the air is so resemblant of your boyfriend it’s almost intoxicating and results in your mind being only filled with thoughts of him; all social expectations and fears are quelled purely by the overwhelming distraction that is Matty. You nod and hum absentmindedly to the girls’ conversation at the table, their subtle smirks giving away that they know very well where your mind has vanished off to as your fingers begin to drum energetically on the table, your body language practically oozing unrest.

You begin to notice the alcohol’s buzz beginning to wear off, melted ice being all that’s left in the pitcher. One of the girls nods to you, breaking your attention from the realm of smutty daydreaming and gestures her head back inside the pub, “Why don’t you go inside and get some more? Give him something else to look at” her smile wide and entertained, her eyes shining with mischief as you make out a wink from behind the shadowed lenses of her sunglasses. You nod, smiling, appreciating the sudden development of a plan. You stand, brushing off your already rather short dress of imaginary lint, just giving yourself another action to use up your excess energy. As you pick up the empty pitcher and quickly drop a glance towards Matty, who of course is already looking at you with eyes resemblant of an abandoned puppy as he looks over the dark lenses of his sunglasses. You see a quick smile grace his features, (the cause of which a mystery to you) and the stray hairs on the top of his head sticking to his forehead slightly due to the sheen of sweat covering him, the sight shouldn’t have as much of an effect on you as it does, sending another wave of heat through your body as you imagine scraping your fingers through the coarse short hair at the sides and brushing back those loose hairs of his mohawk, tugging slightly as you do so. You drop your head to dispel these thoughts and push your way back through the door into the bar, dropping the pitcher back onto the bartop, ready to order another round for the girls. Your mouth just opened to speak when you feel a gentle hand grab your wrist, turning quickly in alarm you’re immediately relieved to see the dishevelled hair and dark eyes of your boyfriend. An apologetic look graces his features for a second, his hand dropping to yours and squeezing, his voice low and gravelly when he says “Follow me”. This is the first you’ve heard his voice in nearly an hour and it alone has the power to have your knees buckle. He must sense the question ready to spill from your lips, as his voice becomes more demanding “Now, darlin”. His authoritative tone erases any other thoughts you may have as you begin to follow his loudly booted feet into what you recognise to be a stall in the men’s bathrooms.

As thankful as you are that your boyfriend is as needy for your body as you are his, the public nature of this rendezvous does bubble a bit of panic into your chest, a feeling that is immediately forgotten as his toned hands grab your face and he slots his lips onto yours. The suddenness of the action catching you by surprise but still eliciting a neediness in you as you push your body impossibly close to his, kissing him back with pent up fervour that has been brewing beneath your skin since he put on that leather jacket before leaving the flat hours ago. The residual alcohol and danger of the situation heightens your senses and you swear you could floatl from how euphoric you felt, Matty acting as your own personal drug, the taste of alcohol and smoke on his lips going straight to your head. A breathy laugh escapes your throat as you rest your head in the crook of his neck while he attacks yours with kisses and small bites that you just know will need to be extensively covered tomorrow.

“Matty someone will hear us” your voice hushed and restrained as you try your best to repress the wanton moan that has been threatening to spill from your lips since the moment he touched you at the bar.

He pulls back from your neck to deliver a quick and frenzied “Good. Let them. Once they see my beautiful girlfriend they’ll know why I couldn’t wait any longer” that is more panted than spoken into the side of your neck. His hands are like vices on your waist, forever squeezing and gripping at the skin there, as if no matter how much he touched you it would never be enough to satisfy him. His words elicit a whimper from your throat beyond your control, a knowing smirk into your neck being his response.

You move to return the favour, sucking dark bruises into his neck, his grunts and deep breaths from above you your own personal melody as your hands run through the long mop of hair on the top of his head, tugging on the strands then lightly scratching through the buzzed hairs on the sides, making sure to kiss the exposed skin behind his ear, knowing how it makes him crumble, this clear in the small restrained whimper that is only audible due to your extreme proximity; you two are practically one entity as you’re pressed up so closely together in this stall. Matty’s hands make quick work of sliding under your dress and ghosting over your ass, his fingers surprising you in their sudden desperation as they grope and squeeze at the skin there. His hips grind instinctively into yours, both of you sharing the same air as you gasp in synchronicity, normally you’d find something poetic in that action but your brain was so hazy with thoughts of Matty that nothing else would compute. Your skin burned with need for him and the more you kissed and licked at his skin the more your world began to centre around the delicious smokey smell that clung to his hands and his clothes, and you grow a little jealous at its ability to be in constant proximity to him, the smell lingering on him like it was inherent to his being, a factor you adored about him.

Your hands instinctively move to unbuckle his belt, however his lithe fingers move to shadow over your wrists, dropping a gentle kiss to your head “As much as I am desperate for you to do that darlin’, I will not be able to control myself if we go that far right now”. He kisses away the small pout that has formed on your lips, his nose momentarily nudging yours as he rests his forehead on yours “I promise I’ll make it up to us both when we get home but right now I’d rather not have both of us walk back to our friends and the rest of the pub smelling of sex, we’d never hear the end of it”.

Your voice whispers in a poor attempt to hide your desperation and surprise at his audacity “That’s not fair Matty you’ve literally been eyefucking me all night and now you wanna be all responsible? You’re such a cockblock”. He barks out a laugh at this and threads his hands into your hair, pulling and stroking at the strands, “I’m being responsible. I’m trying out something new” he jests, dropping a quick kiss to your nose.

You drop your head to his chest, kissing the exposed ink that peeks out from the collar of his shirt. “I don’t know if I like it” you mumble with a smile, hands grabbing at any piece of him you can salvage.

“You're so evil Matty, you’re such a tease”. He almost coos at your flustered state “Trust me I know the feeling sweetheart, it is taking every single ounce of self control I have to not flip up this excuse for a dress and have you against this wall until the only word you can say is my name”.

You give an exasperated moan at this into his chest and hold onto him even tighter as warmth surges through you again. “You’re really not helping”, he huffs out another low laugh and lifts his finger to your chin, guiding you to look into his sparkling, lust-filled eyes, his voice earnest and seductive when he says “I promise, promise, I will make it up to you when we get home, trust me I need you too darlin’. It’s just if I didn’t touch you now I think I would have lost my mind at that pool table”. His hands now cradle your face like a precious piece of china, his slender thumb rubbing slowly across your cheek, the soothing action working to calm you both down from your shared frenzy. You lean into him again as your lips fit together, it’s a kiss filled with want and the hanging desire of what’s promised and you have to force yourself to pull away from him. You truly think he could steal all the air from your lungs and you’d let him, as long as you were kissing him you could die happy.

He gives you one last quick peck and fixes any of your smudged lipstick and smooths out any wrinkles on your dress, his hands ghosting over your skin a little longer than one would deem innocent. You too try to get him presentable, giggling as you wipe away the lipstick on his lips with your thumb and run your hands through his mohawk a few more times than necessary, loving the feeling of his dark locks passing through your fingers.

Together you exit the bathroom, your skin already turning red with the fear that people will know what you’ve been up to. Matty tells you to wait by him while he orders another pitcher for the girls and drinks for himself and the boys, his hand absentmindedly grabbing yours while you wait at the bar, empathising with how embarrassed you must be feeling but also not so secretly revelling in it, his dominant streak momentarily taking over.

You pass through the door to outside once again, squinting at the sun that threatens your vision as you emerge. The girls whistle at your reappearance, giggles floating through the air at your flushed appearance and nervous smile. You avoid all the staring eyes, the boys too grinning knowingly in yours and Matty’s direction. You separate from him as you set the pitcher down at your shared table, your blush definitely giving away the answer to any question as to what you were up to.

“Sorry for the wait guys, there was a queue” you hurry out, still refusing to make eye contact, knowing you’ll crack and start laughing as soon as you do. Charli laughs and nods unconvinced, her voice mockingly slow “Yeah, sure there was”. This sets the girls off laughing, you soon join in, your head falling to your hands in embarrassment. The boys too now looking over your direction and laughing, George patting Matty on the back, his cheeks now matching yours in their cherry pink state, the blush creeping all over your chest adding to pigment you’ve already gained from the sun’s heat. What you don’t see in your all-consuming fit of embarrassment is Hann reaching over to Matty’s neck to wipe off some remaining lipstick that stains there, his smile is infectious amongst the boys as they poke fun over Matty’s flustered state. Once you all recover from your fit of giggles you look up from your hands over to Matty who is, of course, already looking at you. He mouths the words "I’m so in love with you", his bright smile is back and so contagious that the blush on your cheeks immediately becomes immovable, a smile in your words too as you mouth back back, "I’m so in love with you too, Matty". His perfect smile graces your eyes as he returns to his game with the boys, his attention more focused on the game than before, his hands only ever leaving the cue to push the dark strands of hair that fall in front of his vision back into their assigned place. He only ever looks up to you every now and again to wink, an action filled with so much desire and expectation for when you get home, the subtlety making your whole body flush with excitement and the impatience to get back to the flat to see what awaits you grows even stronger.

#also CLIFFHANGER ????? sorry not sorry #it was long enough editing was a nightmare #i am SO SO sorry this took so long #im not very happy with this one i feel like it's very long with no real plot or reward #but this has been sitting in my docs for so long that i've probably grown to hate it #anyways mohawk matty supremacy #illegal to read this and not picture mohawk matty #imagine matty wearing the boots in the pic AND a leather jacket ?? exactly #also mentioned charli because she's my wife #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy #the 1975 x reader #the 1975 fic #i write 1975 fiction wtf is my life #k!'s fics

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codenamehazard · 4 months

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.:The Dam Breaks:.

Chapter 27: The Dam Breaks

[TRIGGER WARNING: SEVERE MENTAL BREAKDOWN, SMALL MENTION OF CORPERAL PUNISHMENT, ANXIETY, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES, MENTION OF ABILISM, SHITTY PARENT BEING SHITTY, MENTIONS OF BUGS AND SPIDERS.]

Hey guys! Hoooooo man, this is a chapter I've been chomping at the bit to share with you guys ever since I finished it! I hope you guys like this as much I liked writing it! Big shoutout to @rogueshadeaux for helping me with research, brainstorming and being the creator of Jean and Brent Rowland!

Without further ado, let's jump in!

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Warmth runs down my throat as I take a sip of warm water. How long has it been since the chaos that was Pangolin’s transfer into the Poison Ward of this hospital went down? Around 12 hours? With how on edge everybody was, it was hard to tell and it didn’t calm down either.

Sometime earlier, The metal man had walked out into the waiting room to get Mako with a worrying urgency. She got up with no questions asked, but this prompted Dove to jump up and try to blitz through the doors. It took both Kestrel and I to hold the thrashing pigeon back. I actually had to zap him hard enough to knock him out just so that Mako could get through unimpeded.

A squabble followed when Dove came to, the dodo and the bird of prey locked verbal talons as they screamed at each-other. It wasn’t until Kestrel gave a sharp-tongued snap at Dove that he backed down and conceded the argument. Now he was just sitting in the corner, sulking like a child.

I don’t blame the kid, really. If that was my brother, I would be ready to become a one-man demolition team. Though I understand that right now, the best way we can help Pangolin is to stay out of the docs’ way until we’re called upon.

I paid little mind to the plague doctor knock-off as something else has my attention. Kestrel…

Ever since Pangolin was admitted, she hasn’t been acting right. Granted, she’s always been an odd bird, eccentric, but this? This isn’t normal even for her. Pacing back and forth like a trapped zoo animal, fussing with that evil eye bracelet I remember seeing from when we talked in Droptown, sometimes she would flap her hands when she thinks nobody’s looking. She’s silent as a church mouse, something that she just isn’t.

The thing that really had my attention were her steel-blue eyes. Wide and wild, darting from the bay doors to a door painted a cool blue with a moon on it. Back and forth, back and forth, incessantly. Something’s not right in her head and it isn’t just from the fear for her fellow Misfit.

Watching Kestrel pace about with her wild eyes, it made me feel something I haven’t felt in a long ass time. An emotion I didn’t expect to feel. A weight in my stomach, an ache. The sight twists my guts into a knot that claws at me. Worry. I scoff at the sensation and brush it off.

Why should I worry about the girl? She’s a grown woman, she can take care of herself. Besides, it’s a waste of emotional energy. There’s no point in worrying about someone who hates me and who I hate in kind.

Despite my reasoning, the knot remains, so I just ignore it. There’s probably another reason why it’s there.

I turn my head as I hear the door open, seeing Mako and the tin-man… Coyote, was it? I don’t know, so many new names. They were quietly talking among themselves before turning to face us. Kes takes a deep breath and shakes her head, trying to calm herself and hide her… Whatever’s going on in her head, before asking the two about Pangolin’s status.

God, she’s not even sounding right. Her voice is too quiet, despite trying to speak with confidence, her tone’s also…. Restricted, I guess? There’s the kind of cracking that happens when you’re trying to hold something back. Mako and Coyote look at each-other before nodding, Mako stepping up towards us.

“Pangolin’s status has been stabilized, but he’s not out of the weeds yet. That sting from the blink scorpion went into his bones and was wreaking havoc on the marrow. I had to help Crow infuse the anti-corrodium serum directly into his bones without throwing up.” She says with a shudder as Coyote rubs his hand, must have had her hold it during everything. Mako was never a fan of patterned holes. “Thankfully the infusion is working and he’s stable enough to have another visi-”

Before Mako could finish her sentence, Dove leaps up from his seat and practically disappears as he turns into a gust of wind. The only thing that tells me where he is was the movement of objects as he rushes through to be with his brother.

Kes sighs in relief, or rather tries to. Whatever demon she’s fighting in her head is crossing some wires in that brain of hers. The sight is strange, the only thing I could really describe it as is like she’s forgetting how to be a normal person right before my eyes. The wild eyes now damn near flying around in their sockets and her smile becoming more forced by the second.

Coyote and Mako look at each-other worriedly before the shark gives the metal-man a nod. Coyote nods back before heading over and whispering something into Kes’ ear, I try to listen in, but it’s too faint. Whatever he said prompted the girl to make a beeline to that weird moon-door with Coyote hot on her heels.

The man gets in front of Kes and opens the door for her before she shoulder-checks it down and closes it quietly behind her. What happens next…. Makes me nauseous.

Screaming, warped and metallic. Just like back at her shop when Pangolin pushed her too far. Hearing it the first time made me sick and angry but this time it makes my blood run cold and the knot in my stomach grow tighter, the sound of twisting metal inside the room didn’t help either. Without thinking, I push myself off the wall and walk over to the door. Coyote looks at me worried and about ready to go into a defensive stance when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn my head to glare at the offending party. Mako.

“You better have a damn good reason for why I shouldn’t fry you for touching me.” I can hear Shiny getting ready to say something, but Mako holds her hand up.

“Cole, slow your roll for a second. I can explain what’s going on…. Somewhat.” She hums and I try to relax. Eyes glowing intensely as I watch her.

“Kestrel’s having a meltdown.” Mako says with a sigh and I scoff.

“Yeah, I can see that but that doesn’t explain anything.” I snip as I cross my arms, Mako facepalms.

“I was getting to that, Cole.” Mako growls in aggravation. “She’s on the Spectrum.”

“... The internet company?”

“NO!!” The shark bellows out before thumping her hand on her forehead. “The Autism Spectrum. She’s high functioning!”

Autism? That’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time. Last time I heard that word was back when I was in high-school. A classmate of mine fell to pieces in band class after the asshole behind him wouldn’t stop screeching on that damn violin he had. Surprised I didn’t have tinnitus from that asshat alone. The last horrendous squeak had me turning around to deck the fucker when the poor kid just lost it. Threw himself on the ground, covered his ears, started to rock himself to pieces and yelled at the top of his lungs to “shut up” repeatedly. The teacher’s assistant had to help the guy out while the teacher dragged Screechie McFuckface out of the class to give him a verbal lashing.

I remembered asking the assistant what was going on and she told me it had something to do with Autism and then shooed me away so she could focus on getting the kid calmed down… Then I asked my dad about it.

“That’s what damn brats like you become when parents are too soft on them. 16 years old and throwing fucking tantrums like toddlers. Damn kid should have gotten the belt, not a coddle.”

Needless to say that was the last time I talked to Dad about that kid.

With that word associated with Kestrel, things started to make sense.. Things I thought were normal girl things started to line up with things the rocking kid did and even the things that weren’t normal made some sense. How she would get irritated when things she had placed just so would get moved or just people moving her stuff in general. How she avoided certain textures. How she would sometimes stop and stare at the ceiling or at corners at odd times. Even how she couldn’t quite look me in the eyes, always looking at the large scar on the left side of my face. It all made sense.

And now, her screaming also made sense.

“Everything that happened?” Mako continues. “The monsters, the bugs, the big ass spider, Pangolin getting tagged badly, all of that on top of shouldering the physical and emotional burden that comes with taking the lead? It was like a landslide falling into a reservoir. Yeah, the dam can hold it all back for a little bit, but it starts to crack and leak until-”

“-It fails and breaks.” I finish as my brain processes everything, dots connecting in ways I didn’t know were there.

“Mhm.” Mako hums as she nods. “She did well to last as long as she did, but that constant burden of having to always put on a brave face and look like she’s in control is one of the reasons why she wants nothing to do with leadership at all. It would wreak havoc on her mental-state, that’s what she says anyways.”

Mako continues to explain, but at this point my mind begins to focus on something that’s only growing more and more insistent. The knot in the pit of my stomach that I’ve been trying to ignore. The gnawing of worry. It’s damn-near suffocating, but why?!? I don’t worry about people like this unless I care about them, but why am I caring about the bird?! Why do I care? Why am I giving a rat’s left testicle about the freak-out of someone who hates my guts, Autism or not?? Kestrel doesn’t like me, I don’t like her. We both hate each-other, so why should I give a shit?!

The clicking of the door draws my attention as I see Coyote peek into the room, it’s at that point I notice that the screaming has quieted. He walks inside and stays in there for a little before peeking his head out of the door. Signaling for Mako to come over. She nods and ushers me to follow. I walk over to the door to peek in and…

Oh… Fuck…

Kestrel Morrison, the Fiery Gunsmith… She’s just… Sitting in the middle of the floor, anything metal around her twisted and warped from her powers going haywire. A black, fuzzy-looking blanket wrapped around her form as listless eyes gaze out at a wall. Her appearance looked almost sickly with the blanket around her body. Flushed face, cheeks streaked with drying tears that stained the fluff and her expression blank, almost hollow.

The only other time I’ve seen her look that lifeless was after the Mine Incident and it pulled at my heart just as strong.

I turn my head to see Coyote walking over to a shelf and grabbing two large totes full of colorful items. The sound they make when the totes are gently placed near the silent bird told me what they are, the tell-tale rattle of Legos. The metal man quietly opens the totes to show that yep, they were Legos, one’s full of the tried and true bricks, the other was full of more mechanical looking pieces. Bionicles.

The sight of the toys caused the girl to stir, a small turn of her head, a twitch of her lips upwards and the light in her eyes brightening.

Coyote sits down next to Kestrel and begins to build, the bird following suit with her Bionicles, no words spoken, only small looks and the sound of clicking and clacking as they begin to build. With the bricks Coyote builds a small city, showing his skill in architecture. The Gunsmith takes the robotic parts and snaps them together, creating monsters to re-enact favorite kaiju movies in among the growing buildings.

Seeing Kestrel playing quietly with her mechanical creations soothed the knot that ate at my stomach, but a new feeling takes its place. A feeling that makes my blood start to boil, I resist the urge to frown. What the hell? Where did this come from?! The worry is gone, the screaming has stopped! This is the most wholesome sight I have seen in a long-ass time! Kestrel’s fine and she’s just playing Legos with Coyote! I’ve lost track of how many years have gone by since I’ve seen anything remotely this sweet!

Why in the name of GOD is this pissing me off?!?

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liathejedi · 1 year

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Hello sorry to bother you but I noticed your Dinluke Tangled fic has been deleted on AO3 and was wondering if you were aware of this or if it was accidental? I really loved that fic (and I know heaps of others do too) and I’m saddened to see it go but I will respect your decision if you did remove it intentionally. I just wish I could’ve saved/downloaded it sooner 😭

So, I've actually been meaning to make a post about this (sorry Vanilla, I know this ask has been sitting in my inbox for a long time!) This post will ramble on a bit, but moral of the story is, I am in the process of editing and making tweaks to the fic to reupload it onto AO3 as an orphaned work. Further explanations will be below the cut but feel free to move on, they’re not that important, lol!

When I deleted my fic last year, it was at a time where the dinluke fandom, somewhere I had found so much joy and solace in for over a year, had become a place that just started to make me uncomfortable. I avoided the tags, I downloaded a few of my favourite fics from my favourite authors (who are still some of my beloved mutuals <3) and moved on.

The fic in question, a tangled AU I had written back in 2021, was probably the most prevalent work I had created for the fandom. I wrote it in a time where I needed something light-hearted and warm and fun to write, and writing this fic really did bring me so much joy. Even more so was the response that it received while I was publishing it. I could tell that there were readers who enjoyed reading it for the exact same reasons that I enjoyed writing it, and hearing everyone’s thoughts and feedback every week is part of what made writing this fic so special. Every fic author understands how wonderful it is to share your work with an audience and be able to talk about it with them.

But then the dinluke discourse became more prevalent, and I started noticing more comments on the fic that interpreted the ship and the ‘roles’ of the characters in a way that ... didn’t really make me comfortable. Yes, I had Din as the ‘Flynn Rider’ character and Luke as the ‘Rapunzel’ character, but I felt that that best represented their characters in canon - with Din as the seemingly rough on the outside but warm on the inside one often brushing against the law, and Luke as the driven, optimistic, and sometimes reckless one who is endlessly hopeful. But there were some people in the comments who just wanted to see luke as a typical damsel-in-distress disney princesss, which isn’t what I wanted, or wrote, at all.

And so, having removed myself from the fandom, I removed the fic, too. Looking back, even though I don’t regret what motivated this decision, I do regret removing it from AO3 so quickly and without warning. I know there were people who loved it - I did too - and if I had known more about the option to simply orphan a fic and leave it up on AO3, just not associated with your account, then I think I would have done that instead. But at that point in time, the fic just served as a reminder of how hostile some parts of the fandom had grown, and how I didn’t fully feel comfortable being in a fandom I loved anymore. I didn’t even think I’d ever come back.

But now I am, lol. I’ve reached a point now where I’m comfortable existing in my own corner of the fandom, discussing the ship with my mutuals and sharing content with them, and that’s brought back a lot of the joy that I’d missed. I’d even started to go back to my google doc with the tangled AU fic’s original draft, going through and editing and tweaking it just to remember that joy of writing it. And so, I decided that I want to put it back up onto AO3. I’ll republish the chapters once I’ve finished editing them (the first few are already done) and once it’s all back up, I’ll orphan the fic. That way it’ll be there for all of those who had originally joined me in the journey of writing it, who made me smile every week with their wonderful comments. The fic has always been for them.

Anyways, that got a little melodramatic, lol. I’ll probably start publishing the first couple chapters later today. Other than this post, I probably won’t be mentioning it much more on this account, and simply moving on with the dinluke (and now jedi fallen order oops) brainrot 😂. Stay well everyone! xx

#dinluke

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goose-books · 1 year

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i read your wips intro/masterpost, they all look super cool (!!!) but the status sections look like they haven’t been updated in awhile—any updates?

first of all, THANK YOU!!! means a lot whenever anyone checks out my posts! i have a tendency to forget this blog exists, which i can only blame partially on my being in school; i'm part of a thriving community of writing discord servers, and so i've gotten into the habit of sharing more writing there than here. also, from the bottom of my heart, i never have any idea what to post. so thank you x2 for asking for an update, because i can certainly do that!

in the order of the intro post, shall we? (which i have now updated, because it was bothering me.)

The Mortal Realm & Quark: "starting second draft summer 2021," he said (about the first). so that was a fucking lie. summer 2021 i spent working at a children's summer camp, which, while i love kids, sapped my sickly-victorian-boy strength like tuberculosis. and then i went off to college! so quark didn't happen in the fall, either.

both of these are on indefinite hiatus for now, but not shelved! as my oldest long-running projects and the ones that saw me through some specific parts of my life, they're very important to me, and i think about the characters and plots frequently. that said, i've grown a lot since i began each one, so some of my old plans no longer align with the sort of things i like to write now... both are probably due for a rehaul, and as i'm focused on other projects atm, i'm not sure when that will be! but they idle in the back of my brain like screensavers.

A Modern Tragedy: the scripts for AMT are entirely finished! (barring the intermission episode i never wrote, i suppose.) i wrote the last words and immediately encountered some issues, namely: i know how to write, but not how to record and produce a podcast. plus, a podcast-enjoying friend of mine who read the scripts pointed out that honestly, AMT has too many characters to work as an audio drama; i have written a TV show in audio form. and speaking of things i know how to do less than producing a podcast--producing a TV show. so at present i sort of just... have this. sitting on my computer. i've half a mind to just post the scripts on this blog; if you're interested in seeing them... you can certainly shoot me a dm.

darkling: this behemoth is fully drafted, goddamn it, and i did do a round of beta readers over summer 2021. that said, this thing scares me. i am far better at drafting than i am at editing, and approaching a 200,000 word book (yes. i know. i know) to rip the seams out and kick that word count into shape intimidates me. i think perhaps we should all be very mean to me until i acquiesce to sniffing the draft through the bathroom door (??? <- will being mean to me work? unclear)

Valentine van Velt is Dead: oh now this is ridiculous; have i really not updated the intro post in over a year? i suppose not. valentine van velt is out! i posted the book in full in google doc, pdf, and epub forms; you can read it right now today!

love, h: finally something on the intro post is true. this is still in brainstorming mode, less because i haven't figured it out and more because i need to enter another intense hamlet phase to be able to write it properly. it'll happen.

godsong: ah, and we approach the reason the rest of these projects haven't gotten done. my silly little lesbian aeneid is eating my brain. in the past year and a half, i have 1. plotted an entire trilogy 2. written a book and a half 3. spiraled into related AUs for literally over a hundred words. the problem with writing a project that combines multiple hyperfixations is that it will crawl into your brainstem and never ever ever ever leave you alone. ever.

...which is to say that i've written a godsong! i've completed a first draft of the first book and i'm currently drafting the second; i've learned that editing scares me and bogs me down, so i'm riding this hyperfocus as far as it'll take me before i do a beta-reading round. this may come as a shock, because i've posted very little about godsong compared to my other projects, and again, this is because i have no idea what to post. every now and then i get frightened about posting real excerpts, in case it somehow fucks me up copyright-wise. this is a largely irrational fear that i have anyhow. i'm dicking around trying to make character moodboards for intro posts, but i keep running into the moral quandary of whether i can knowingly use unsourced pinterest images, like, morally. unrelated, yeah i do have OCD, how did you know?

thank you for asking after my projects, anon! ^_^ this was a very nice ask to receive and it reminds me i really ought to post here more often... if i ever scrounge up enough pictures from fucking unsplash, we'll see about those intros. if anyone has questions, opinions, or suggestions for future maxblog activities, feel free to shoot me an ask!

#honks at you softly and oh so sweetly.#max.txt

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