#Fatimah’s writing

[marylily-my-beloved]

Letters to A Happier Life - 2,744 words - Marylily hurt no comfort - ao3 link - hope you enjoy!

It was just a normal average day for a normal average woman in her normal average life, with a normal average husband, and normal average friends. But to her it didn’t feel like a normal average day. 

Mary woke up that day, and went for a walk, when she suddenly felt a strange feeling, loneliness, it rushed through her veins, leaving her in sadness. 

Mary was never lonely though, she had her husband, and her friends, and her dog, and all of her friends' kids. She had no right to feel lonely yet she did, she felt lonely while watering her plants, she felt lonely while cuddling her husband, she even felt lonely while she was out with her friends. 

It was like all of a sudden she realized she was living a boring average life, with a boring average house, and a boring average husband, and friends that felt too fake, and a life that felt like it was never meant to be hers. 

This went on for months, the loneliness tugging at her bones, coursing through her veins and settling deep in her chest, a feeling that she could never escape. It tugged at her everyday and everyday, all of those days normal average days, with normal average people, that were starting to become boring. 

No adventure, but Mary can’t remember a time that there was adventure. Loneliness, but now Mary looks back and can’t find a time where she didn’t feel lonely, or out of place, or like she was supposed to be somewhere else. Average, but isn’t everything average, Mary can’t remember anymore. She needs to go get her memory checked or something, it feels like she can’t remember how to live anymore,  it’s almost like she never learned. 

Mary started feeling incomplete, like there was this aspect of life that she once had, now forgotten. She felt like she must have forgotten something important, she must’ve lost something along the way of paving her life.

Her heart felt hollow, as if there used to be something filling it, but not anymore. 

She tried her hardest to think of what that could be, maybe she wants a kid, or something else average and exciting, but she couldn’t quite figure out what was missing in her life. Even while talking to her husband John, this hollowness in her heart still stayed, it seemed no matter what she did she would end up feeling like this. 

She had tried very hard to ignore it, she had tried very hard to will it away, she felt as if she had tried everything to feel how she felt just a mere months ago. 

On another normal average day, months after the first feeling of loneliness, Mary decided she needed to clean up the house, it was too messy, and maybe that’s why she felt like this. 

Another normal average day in between thousands of normal average days. She vacuumed the floors, and did normal average cleaning things.

Then she decided to look through the attic, since it’s been ages since she went in there. She started clearing up the boxes and found a box full of letters. ‘Interesting’ she thought, ‘the last time me or John used letters was quite a few years ago, since the internet became a thing we stopped’. 

The last letter was dated 1982 so Mary thought maybe these were John’s old collection of letters, so she was ready to set the box aside until she saw her name in there. She decided to pick up the letter at the top 

——

04/05/82 

Today is the day Lily. I’m never gonna even think of you again, I really wish you guys were still here, I’ll miss you so much, but I know you’ll still be there somewhere, I really hope you’re still somewhere out there, enjoying life with James, Marlene, Peter & Dorcas. God, I can barely function without you guys. I miss you all so much.

Love, for the last time 

Mary Macdonald 

——

Mary felt confused, thinking ‘who is this Lily? Why did we stop talking? and why can’t I remember anything about this?’ 

She decided to dump the box and sort out all the letters by their dates, so maybe she could try and remember who these people were, and why they seemed so important to her. 

Mary also felt like she needed to sort them out by the people that were mentioned. Remus, Sirius, Lily, Marlene, Peter, James, Dorcas, & Pandora.  ‘weirdo names’ She thought, ‘except for Peter, James and Lily, and who even are these people?’ After Mary had sorted out all the letters, she decided to pick from the ones about ‘Lily’ and picked up the oldest one, dated from her school years, the summer of ‘72 and it was decorated with flowers drawn on it. 

She remembered that those were her first years of school yet she can’t remember anything about it, as if it was erased from her memory.

——

12/08/1972 Hi Lily! How has your summer been? I’m sending this through a muggle post because well, we’re both muggle-borns and I don’t have an owl yet. (My mom says they’re gonna be a big pain in the ass so we can’t get one, she’s such a buzzkill, having tons of fun, and I’ve missed my TV so much. I’ve spent some time with Marlene (we used magic, haha, I don’t know how they didn’t catch us!)  and I hope you can come visit soon. 

Love, 

Mary (your new friend!)

——

Mary felt even more confused, who were muggles? Why did she need owls? Who was Marlene, and who was Lily? She had always thought she had forgotten her school years due to her age, or the genetics that were passed on to her, but while she read this letter she felt as if something had happened, as if something important happened in her brain. She decided to look at a letter sent from ‘Marlene Mckinnon’ 

——

09/12/1973 Hi Mary! It’s me Marlene, well you would probably know that but anyways, I forgot to write you letters last year, and I felt really bad about it, so here you go! A letter from your best non muggleborn friend! How has your winter been? Mine’s been pretty good, I’ve hung out with James and Peter a lot, and sometimes Remus comes and visits them so it’s always fun! I know you said you were dreading going home, but I hope it wasn’t that bad. 

Love ya,Marlene Mckinnon

——

Looking back upon school days, Mary had tried really hard to think, think and remember what had happened, of who she was friends with. Some started coming back to her, bright fiery long hair, flying brooms, big massive tables filled with food she could never even imagine and short blonde hair. Who were they? Why can’t she remember? 

She continued looking through the letters, still not understanding anything. How could they be magic? Were they wizards? She couldn’t understand anything, except for minor details.

She reviewed what she knew. Lily used to hate the boy called James. Her and Lily, Marlene, Dorcas & Pandora were friends in school. The letters from the boy Sirius started in ‘76 and ended ‘81 and it seemed like they were dating from ‘76 to ‘77. James and Lily started dating in ‘78 and got married in ‘79 and had a baby in ‘80. All the letters stopped in 1981. Marlene’s letters stopped in 1980, so did Dorcas’s and Pandora. She only had four letters from Peter, dated ‘78 ‘79 ‘80 and ‘81, one per year. 

They all mentioned a war by 1978, it seemed that they were all fighting in it, or fighting against it? She wasn’t sure. 

Mary cannot for the life of her remember any wars in the UK from that time, she can’t even remember something important happening that year. The memories were just a blur of school and colours, nothing important at all.

Mary found a pretty informational letter that seemed to have been unsent, to one Lily Evans. Who was supposedly her best friend. 

——

13/08/1978

Hey Lily. I’m so sad  happy you’re with James now I miss you so much. I just wanted to check up on you, I hope you’re doing well. Tell me more about your summer. I miss your letters and your love. I also wanted to ask if we were still a thing? Like we were last year. FuckI just wanted to check in!

All the love,Mary Macdonald

——

Mary was finally starting to piece together everything. She was in love with Lily Evans, Lily Evans was in love with James Potter. Lily Evans used to love her, but stopped. They were still friends. They must’ve gone no contact. Lily must’ve started to hate her and her love. She hoped they were still alive, she had to contact them. 

Mary saw another letter, it explained more to her. More about what had happened to them, and who they really were. 

——

03/04/82 

Lily, the wizarding world rejoiced and celebrated, but I can’t believe that you, James, Peter, Marlene, Dorcas, and everyone are just gone and that Sirius betrayed you. I miss you so much, and I’m thinking of obliviating myself, I see you everywhere, I see them everywhere, and I hope Remus is okay, I can’t see him anymore. I miss you, I wish we were back in Hogwarts, nothing would kill us there. Lily, I’m sorry, I’m never going to remember you after this. Goodbye my friend Snape came after me, I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t wanna hurt you, my love, I know we’re just friends but I miss you

Love, 

Mary Macdonald, I’ll never forget you 

——

Mary finally seemed to understand. They might be dead, but she wasn’t sure yet. They were all friends, there was a war. She felt a pang in her chest, she missed them, even though she barely knew them. This must’ve been what she was feeling, a longing for the past, the better past, her real life. 

‘Wizards must be real,’ she thought to herself, ‘I must be one. But how?’ She was still confused about the logistics of it, but she knew she was a wizard, or used to be. She must’ve used a spell to erase her memories. Why? Was it that heart-breaking? Mary didn’t know, but she assumed. 

Suddenly she felt a light blinding her, she collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily, her heart pounding in her ears and her vision dark.

Her vision was filled with a bright white light, and it felt like all her past memories were coming back. Her head hurt, and all she could see was what seemed to be her old friends, they were joking around, small and young. Then they were kissing and playing silly games like truth or dare, and throwing around spells with wands like it was easy. 

Then she saw something important, her and a redhead were kissing, and kissing, and the love filled the air, but it changed, the redhead was kissing a boy. A boy, and not her. 

The memory quickly changed to a battlefield, the blood was everywhere, it was even all over her. She felt it on her head, in her bones, staining her. She was the redhead and her friends fighting too, all bruised and bloody. Fighting against people with masks. They all had wands too, it must’ve been bad. She saw dead people everywhere, and then the light was gone.

Everything went back to the dark, and she tried to get up but she couldn’t. She tried to open her eyes, and after a couple of tries she managed to get them open, her eyelids heavy and drooping.

Mary stayed on the ground for a minute or two longer, processing what she had seen, what memories had come back to her, the redhead must’ve been Lily. The boy James. Her heart broke slowly, the pieces stuck in her body, making her choke on her emptiness. 

Mary truly felt the weight of what she remembered, they must all be dead. Her friends, her love, her everything, and she had chosen to forget them. She had chosen to live oblivious. She hated herself, why would she do that?  She wanted to remember everything, she wanted all the love back. She knew this love, this life she had lived wasn’t real. It wasn’t hers, not anymore. It was the life of a person unburdened by their past, unknowing of their truth. 

She stood up, shaking, and walked to the only table in the attic, sitting on the small short chair, grasping to its edges, eyes searching for a pen and paper to write on.

She saw a paper on the edge, she picked it up slowly, her hand shaking and tried to write a letter to Lily. 

——

13/07/92 

I know who you are now. I really miss you, I hope this gets to you. I hope you’re alive. I just wanted to reach out again, Lily Evans. I couldn’t get you out of my mind, even when I didn’t know who you were

I hope you’re out there somewhere, and this gets to you. I hope one day we can meet again, and I can see you and the others.

Regards,

Mary Macdonald 

——

After Mary had written down her thoughts in the letter, she sighed. She felt like she would never get a reply, and it would tell her that her fear was real, but she had to try. 

She walked back to the floor, picking up an envelope and an opened letter to figure out Lily’s address and write it down. She put her letter in the envelope and wrote down the address, put a stamp on it, and prayed. 

She went downstairs, put the letter in the mailbox, and prayed for it to reach. Prayed for Lily to be alive. 

She saw the letters get taken away the next day, and she prayed. 

She continued her normal average life, and continued praying. Praying the letter would reach, praying they could be friends again. 

She kissed her husband, she babysat her friends' kids, she went out, she had fun, but not without praying. She did everything with the feeling of despair in her bones the longer the letter wasn’t replied to. 

6 MONTHS LATER: 

Mary checked the post anxiously, knowing the letter should’ve gotten to Lily already, knowing she should have a reply already. 

Six months had passed, it had been so long with the fear of Lily being dead in her body, and now she knew. The letter was in the mailbox, address not found. Person dead.

Lily was dead. The only tether to her past life, the only tether for the pain she was feeling. The one who had made it better and then worse again. She felt the pain in her chest before it hit her mind, making her breath heavy and her body shake.

She barely knew this person, yet here she was, crying over them being dead. Lily must’ve died ages ago, but Mary didn’t know. 

All Mary knew was that it was 1993. January, her husband's birth month. The day she found out Lily was dead. Lily was dead, which meant all her friends were dead. It was like before she had found out, she still didn’t know them, and she would never be able to. They were all gone. Forever. She would never even get to see the fiery red hair again, unless it was someone else, someone different. Not Lily. 

She ran to the attic, where all those months ago she had sat down, and written a letter to a dead person. To a dead person she once knew, to a dead person she would never get to feel again. 

Mary sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until her body was empty of tears, and her voice gone. She would never get to remember them again, all she had was letters. Letters to a happier life. 

She never did get over it, years and years later, an old woman, with her old husband. She held on to those letters, never letting them go missing, keeping them in a box titled ‘Don’t Forget Me’, and she never did forget. 

Sometimes she would wish that she could erase her memories again, but this time she lived with the pain, and died with the pain. 

—

hope you guys enjoyed and cried !!

[clcmentines]

blood dripping down my throat, isn't it lovely?

fruit, azra t / he who is good with swords, fatimah asghar / the becoming of noah shaw, michelle hodkin / it's a circus and we're all paid to be here, ashe vernon / things have gotten worse since we last spoke, eric larocca / aaron o'hanlon

[reshramlove1ob]

Guys I love Amir so much it’s not even funny

[userparamore]

pluto shits on the universe, by fatimah asghar

[woodtoc]

I think I believe in freedom I just don’t know where it is.

I think I believe in home, I just don’t know where to look.

(Fatimah Asghar – If They Come for Us - Poems)

[plutobutartsy]

im in again. im so sorry i’ve been attacking your inbox like this but BUT BUT .

fatimah - vamp turned in the 1960s (by lombardy, sandy’s maker! she’s 22 tho so she’s his big sister)

vivian - human who just moved in next door to fatimah. cynical college student.

neighbours to lovers,,, gay,,,

NEVER apologize for invading my inbox i LOVE ur asks okay >:3

anyways

SANDYS BIG SIS!!!!!!!!!!!!;;; I LOVE BIG SIS CHARACTERS AND I LOVE SANDY!!!! AMAZING DAY FOR ANNOYING PEOPLE (ME)

cynical college student... wishing her strength bc i now shenanigans will ensue... good luck viv

NEIGHBOORS TO LOVERS!!! GAY!!!!

[shadowtriovibes]

Hello,

Can you write some shameless pre-relationship Sebastian x mc flirting? Like pining, comparing hand sizes, teasing about height, all that cringe cute stuff! Just go off on that however you like!

hello anon!! here's a quick 1.5k pg-rated words for you because i'd just started a little drabble of MC working at j pippin's for the summer and it turned into two goofy teens in love 🥹

edit: i felt like this deserved a name so i'm calling it "the potioneer's apprentice" and i personally love a potion-loving MC characterization very much so i may return to this 'verse later on xoxo

"I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself," you point out. Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders. "W-well, yours is better," he insists. "Always has been, even Sharp said so." "It's even better now," you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. "...You're not actually hurt, are you?" "No, just bored," he admits. "I wanted to see you."

Staring down at the order slip in your hands, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

Mr. Sebastian Sallow Feldcroft Hamlet

x3 Wiggenweld x1 Focus x1 Felix Felicis

“Simple enough,” Parry Pippin says cheerfully, tucking a knut into the pocket of the postal owl that had just dropped off your latest order. “I’ll put together the Liquid Luck, I know that’s a tricky one.”

Bustling over to his potions station, he adds, “I trust brewing the Wiggenweld and Focus draughts should be no problem for you?”

“Of course,” you say, quickly tying up your hair before lighting a fire beneath the cauldron at your own station.

You’ve been an apprentice at J. Pippin’s Potions for just over a month, refining your potions skills over the summer break – and helping keep an eye on things in Hogsmeade. In that time, your brewing skills have improved significantly, and Parry is more than happy to pass on some of the simpler potions to you.

Attempting to be casual, you ask, “Will this be a delivery?”

“Oh, I should think so,” Parry confirms. “Though it’s not exactly my neck of the woods.”

“Would you like me to drop it off?” you offer hopefully.

“How about this,” Parry offers. “I’ll send you down to the hamlet to drop these off, and then you can call it a day.”

“Thank you, Mister Pippin,” you say with a grin.

Your boss smiles approvingly as you carefully pour some horklump juice into your cauldron, precisely tapping the side of the bottle as he’d taught you.

“Besides,” he says cheekily. “I think this is the third time this month that young mister Sallow has ordered from my shop and requested delivery, even though Fatimah’s shop is much closer.”

You nearly spill the entire bottle.

“Any idea why a Hogwarts student on summer break would need so many potions?” Parry asks, smirking to himself as he pours some lacewing flies into his cauldron.

“W-well, I – I suppose he could be clumsy,” you mumble unconvincingly. “O-or stocking up, perhaps. We’ve got N.E.W.T. classes next term, some of these spells are quite challenging, a-and the beasts, we’ve got Grindylows to examine, you know how they bite…”

You trail off feebly, blushing a bright red. The Wiggenweld potion in your cauldron signals its completion with a puff of smoke, offering a welcome distraction.

“Aye, of course,” Parry murmurs, sounding very much like he doesn’t believe you in the slightest. “In any case, as soon as you finish that Focus potion I’ll send you on your way.”

Quickly ladling three portions of Wiggenweld into Parry's glass vials, you scrub out your cauldron and prepare the last draught, wrinkling your nose at the smell of dugbog tongue. Once it starts to smoke and bubble, you measure out a generous portion and collect the Felix Felicis from your boss, tucking the lot into your satchel.

“Please thank young Sebastian for his order, and tell him I said good day,” Parry tells you with a wink. “And to kindly stop pilfering my apprentice so often.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply sheepishly.

Outside the shop, you trek outside the boundaries of Hogsmeade to hop onto your broom and head south toward Feldcroft. It had been more than a week since you’d seen Sebastian, which felt like an eternity compared to how often you saw him during the school year.

One month into your break and you feel like a simpering wreck.

You miss him like crazy – not that you’d tell him like that, of course. He’s your closest friend, and the two of you have been through so much together in the past two years. You aren’t about to ruin it by confessing that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

—

Sebastian is not moping.

And even if he was, why shouldn’t he mope? He’s alone, it’s swelteringly hot in the hamlet and he hasn’t seen his best friend in a week.

He’s bored, and when Sebastian gets bored, he gets creative.

Really, it’s almost too easy to summon you to Feldcroft. All it took was a quick trip to see the owl post stand and another superfluous order for some potions (with a little bit of Liquid Luck thrown in on a whim), and he knew you’d arrive by the time the heat broke.

He conveniently manages to be tending to his small garden when you touch down beside the Sallow home, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows while he pats some dirt around a sprig of fluxweed.

“Sallow?” You call out teasingly. “I have an order here for Sebastian Sallow?”

“Must be a lazy bloke, ordering all those Wiggenwelds instead of making them himself,” he answers, sitting back on his heels and wiping some sweat away from his brow with the back of his wrist. “Or perhaps just daft.”

“I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself,” you point out.

Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders.

“W-well, yours is better,” he insists. “Always has been, even Sharp said so.”

“It’s even better now,” you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. “...You’re not actually hurt, are you?”

“No, just bored,” he admits. “I wanted to see you.”

If Ominis were here, he’d likely pick up on how those words make your heart race a little faster, but mercifully, Sebastian does not.

“Here I am,” you say. “And I’m all yours for the day, Mister Pippin gave me the rest of the day off.”

“Oh, really?” he replies, brushing some stray dirt off of his trousers as he stands up. “Whatever could we get up to with an entire afternoon?”

You blink in surprise as he stands, realizing for the first time that Sebastian has gotten taller.

“What?” he asks, catching your gaze.

“You’ve grown,” you say dumbly. “I – I mean, you’re tall.”

“Am I?” he asks, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Perhaps you’re just short.”

“I am not short,” you protest, following Sebastian as he leads the way into the old Sallow home.

It feels different now, obviously. Less like a family home and more like a chaotic bachelor pad, Sebastian’s strewn-about books and haphazard notes covering up a distinct lack of coziness.

It’s only for the summer, Sebastian had told you the first time you’d seen it.

(You know he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go anymore, what with the Gaunt household becoming more toxic by the day. You wouldn’t be surprised to find Ominis squatting there as well by the time July rolls around.)

“You’re practically pocket-sized,” Sebastian teases, closing the door behind you to keep some of the midday sun out. “I think it’s why you’re so powerful – it’s concentrated, your magic.”

You scoff and shove at his shoulder, wondering to yourself when he became so broad.

It had only been a few weeks since school had let out, hadn’t it? And suddenly Sebastian was walking around in a man’s body, one you were sure wasn’t there in Charms class in May. Or maybe it was, hiding beneath his suit jacket and his robes…

You blink rapidly to clear your head.

“Um. Your potions,” you mumble, pulling the rest of the bottles out of your satchel and placing them on the front room table.

Then you can’t help but ask, “What’s the Felix Felicis for?”

“Not sure yet,” Sebastian admits. “But I’m sure it will come in handy at some point.”

You hum under your breath, picking up the delicate vial and examining it in the light.

“Hand it over,” Sebastian demands with a laugh. “I don’t like the way you’re looking at that bottle, I know what temptation looks like on your face.”

Blushing, you place the vial in his outstretched hand, letting your own hand linger a beat too long. Sebastian quickly catches your wrist, turning your hand palm-side up.

“Merlin’s beard, your hand is small,” he observes.

“Not this again,” you groan.

“I’m being serious, you hold your wand with this tiny thing?” he jokes. “Poor Ollivander had his work cut out for him.”

“Let’s see yours, then,” you insist, holding your hand up to him. “Go on.”

Sebastian presses his palm against yours and you raise your eyebrows. His hand dwarfs yours to the degree that he could wrap the tips of his fingers overtop yours if he wanted to.

“See?” he says, his voice suddenly much quieter in the empty home. “Tiny.”

“And yet I can still beat you in a duel,” you retort, trying to calm your racing heart.

Just like that, the tension in the room dissolves away and Sebastian lights up.

“A duel, hmm?” he echoes. “Is that an offer?”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to do today?” you laugh. “It’s thirty degrees outside and you want to duel?”

“We could practice on the training dummies,” he offers hopefully. “You know you want to.”

…Damn him, he’s right.

“Fine,” you relent. “But if I sweat through this chemise, it’s your head, Sallow.”

Sebastian tries very hard to not think about you in a sweat-soaked white shirt as you lead him back outside, and if he trips over the doorframe on his way out, he’s happy to let you continue to assume it’s just his clumsy streak.

[permetutotheworld]

hi my name is Persephone, but you can call me Seph/Sephy/Nyx , I use they/xe pronouns, I’m an asexual lesbian, I’m autistic+adhd,

and I’m a minor (please don’t be creepy I’ve already had two people message me being weird and sexual)

I write a lot of poetry and I’m writing a book at the moment based off of the idea of multiple universes existing at a time, I sing and I love performing, specifically musical theatre

I ALSO TAKE REQUESTS!! I write poetry mostly for them but microfics tooo, for good omens, the marauders, percy jackson, les mis and any TJ Klune books that ive read, just pop a prompt into my inbox and ill do my best to get jt to you as fast as i can <3

my fandoms are : Les Mis, good omens, pjo, marauders, hunger games, aru shah, marvel, doctor who

my favourite music: queen, Maisie peters, the last dinner party, the crane wives, Taylor Swift, Florence and the machine, rene Rapp, Chappell roan, David Bowie, blondie, boygenius, most musicals

favourite books: house in the cerulean sea, under the whispering door, in the lives of puppets (all by TJ Klune)

my tags:

Nyx yaps: my silly little commentary on anything that happens to me

nyx vents: my life low-key sucks quite a lot at time so I vent a bit but I make sure to trigger warning everything triggering

nyx writes: I write silly little poems and stories that I post sometimes

nyx’s moots 🫶🫶: for my lovely moots

Nyx loves their gf: thats right guys i love my gf so mich and i talk about her a lot

perpendicular universe: posts about my fantasy novel im working onnn

Please dni if you’re queerphobic or discriminate against minorities in general, if you support trump or other dickwads like him or if you’re just going to be mean

also I do struggle a lot with mental health so I probably will randomly disappear or vent but I’ll make sure to trigger warning everything

my writing blogg: @persephone-writes-silly-stuff below the cut: my rp blogs, my moots and my fics

My rp blogs:

@nico-sees-dead-people @prongsie-rambles @regulus-the-star @pandora-opens-the-box @sunshine-boy-official

@enjolsaurus-rex @sunshine-prongsie-boy @panda-reads-your-death @lily-petals-falling @stars-andpoems

if you like my blog you should check out my amazing mutuals whom I love and adore:

@xenocollector LES MIS RAAA

@sauntering-vaguelydownward literally so sweet ilysm/platonically

@marylily-my-beloved love you Fatimah omg

@aidens-ocean-galaxy very purple coded person and very cool also so genuinely lovely we live laugh love Juno in this household

@theoristswan5683 literally so nice omg they have the loveliest vibes 😭

@ashstillalive Amazing writer amazing person will happily beta read for you anytime

@mae-occasionally-reads so sweet so lovely so cool so glad we’re mutuals love you so much/platonic vibes only MY BEST FRIEND ILYYYSMMM/pl <3333

@definitionoffuckup AL very cool individual

@rafaelthesilly I KNOW YOU IN REAL LIFE POOKIE YOURE THE BEST LESBIAN BUDDIE MY AMAZING SPOUSE ILYSM (platonically)

@inezrable I have more octopus facts for you!!!!!!!

@garden-of-runar the coolest person alive still can’t believe you followed me back althought yoir spice tolerance js weird as shit/lh and paprika is not spicy

@ravenwordss literally so sweet love you/pl

@pyromaniacbibliophile my spouse bc we are married

@cossie-fauchelevant the one and only cosette to my enjolras <3

@delinda24601 SHES SO COOL MY IRL BUS BESTIE LOVE HER TO BITS I FOUNDED HER FAN CLUB SHES SO SUPER COOL GUYS 🩷🩷🩷���🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

@im-on-crack-send-help RIYANAAA SO SUPER COOL ILYSM

@startswithahell - cant wait for those unhinged asks omgomg

@biggestqiblifan - I LOVE YOU SM/pl

@the-eclipse-is-in-me - one of my favouritest people on this hellsite

@circe-butbetter - JANA!!! So incredibly cool and iconic

@joanmonet - JOAN!! IRL!! SHE GAVE ME TURKISH DELIGHT AND IS LITERALLY MY WIFE VERY COOL WE SHARE LIKE 90% OF THE SAME INTERESTS !!!! WHAT AN ICON!!! WE FRICKING SAUTÉED ON THOSE EXAMS!!!

[dabistits]

"Two Lives" in Dear Friend, from My Life I Write to You in Your Life, Li Yiyun | "Ash," Tracy K. Smith | The Oresteia of Aeschylus, trans. Ted Hughes | "The Real Horror in The Haunting of Hill House," Sophie Gilbert | "Reassuring ghosts and haunted houses," Christine Ro | "Home," Warsan Shire | @/tiarnanabhfainni | "Courtney Love Prays To Oregon," Clementine von Radics | Rob Brezsny, quoted in We Were Witches, Ariel Gore | "How'd Your Parents Die Again?," Fatimah Asghar

[torsamors]

Harry Kim x Voyager and ‘Home’

quote sources + notes under the cut

Chelsea Dingman, from "Psychogeography," published in The Los Angeles Review / Longing Poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe / James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room / Joy Harjo, from “We Must Call a Meeting,” In Mad Love and War / James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room / Joan Bauer - Almost Home / James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room / Clementine von Radics, ‘Courtney Love Prays To Oregon / Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot / Fatimah Asghar, from “How'd Your Parents Die Again?” / Naguib Mahfouz / Louise Glück, The Triumph of Achilles / Brandon Melendez, ‘How to Write Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle into a Promise to Return Home

Purple highlight refers to Non-Sequitur, pink refers to Favorite Son, Yellow refers to Deadlock, green refers to Emanations and red refers to Timeless.

[dandelion-network]

25 in 2025

Tagged by @sixofravens-reads (Thanks friend)

Continuing the unnecessary but fun color-coded method: Books I Stopped Reading and Want to Finish (1-5), Books in a Series (6-10), Horror Books (11-15), Poetry Collections (16-20), and Nonfiction I've Been Wanting to Get to for Forever (21-25).

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

The Grace of Kings by Ken Liu

How Far the Light Reaches: a Life in Ten Sea Creatures by Sabrina Imbler

Soft Science by Franny Choi

The Moon That Turns You Back by Hala Alyan

Maroons by adrienne maree brown

The Tyrant Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson

Parable of the Talents by Octavia Butler

Storm of Locusts by Rebecca Roanhorse

My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

Lone Women by Victor Lavalle

White Horse by Erika Wurth

We Used to Live Here by Marcus Kliewer

The Boatman's Daughter by Andy Davidson

House of Bone and Rain by Gabino Iglesia

Whereas by Layli Long Soldier

Forest of Noise by Mosab Abu Toha

Mural by Mahmoud Darwish

If They Come For Us by Fatimah Asghar

Poūkahangatus by Tayi Tibble

A Paradise Built in Hell by Rebecca Solnit

Fresh Banana Leaves: Healing Indigenous Landscapes through Indigenous Science by Jessica Hernandez

A Darker Wilderness: Black Nature Writing From Soil to Stars Edited By Erin Sharkey

How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy by Jenny Odell

Light in Gaza: Writings Born in Fire Edited By Jehad Abusalim, Jennifer Bing, and Mike Merryman-Lotze

Tagged: @gracebriarwoodwrites, @lizziethereader, @nejjcollectsbooks, @readingrobin, @freckles-and-books

[marylily-my-beloved]

Letters to A Happier Life - Hurt No Comfort Marylily Fic - @definitionoffuckup - Hope you guys enjoy the angst!!!

[songofwizardry]

belated Ramadan Mubarak!

I try to do a bit of reading every Ramadan, so, for accountability, and so that when I inevitably don’t get through them I can find my list next year—here's my (extremely very ambitious) reading list for this year!

(suggestions are very welcome, with the warning that I very much may not get through them. this year, I’m trying to learn more about Islam and liberation theology and I’m trying to read more abolitionist texts, and of course my standard queer Muslim books, I’m trying to read more poetry by Muslim poets I don’t know well, and every Ramadan I try and only read fiction by Muslim authors, so there’s some sff on here too!)

non-fic:

memoirs:

We Have Always Been Here by Samra Habib (reread)

Hijab Butch Blues by Lamya H

The Colour of God by Ayesha S Chaudhry

Love is an Ex-Country by Randa Jarrar

A Dutiful Boy by Mohsin Zaidi

other nonfic:

Islam and Anarchism by Mohamed Abdou

We Do This Til We Free Us by Mariame Kaba (reread-ish? I never fully finished it)

Let This Radicalise You by Kelly Hayes and Mariame Kaba

Qur'an and Woman by Amina Wadud (which I also never finished)

The Women's Khutbah Book by Fatima Seedat and Sa'diyya Shaikh

Qur’an of the Oppressed: Liberation Theology and Gender Justice in Islam by Shadaab Rahemtulla

With Stones in Our Hands: Writings on Muslims, Racism, and Empire by Sohail Daulatzai and Junaid Rana

fiction:

The Candle and the Flame by Nafiza Azad

Mirage by Somaiya Daud (yes I still have not read this)

The Light at the Bottom of the World by London Shah

Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion by Bushra Rehman

A Tempest of Tea by Hafsah Faisal

poetry:

Halal If You Hear Me (anthology)

If They Come For Us by Fatimah Asghar (reread)

Hagar Poems by Mohja Kahf

Bad Diaspora Poems by Momtaza Mehri

The Fortieth Day by Kazim Ali

Black Seeds by Tariq Touré

Postcolonial Banter by Suhaiymah Manzoor-Khan

[not-that-dillinger]

List of Background Canon OCs at Encom Tower:

because I keep making up names for the people Ed interacts with and then losing them to the to the void that is the sheer amount of writing on this blog. So here's a list both for my sanity for easy finding and if anyone else wants to use them.

CANON BACKGROUND CHARACTERS: So here's everyone at the launch party for Encom 12:

Including Ed, Alan, Richard Mackey, and Claire, there are twenty people total. Thirteen others seated at the table, two assistants off to the side, and the guy way off to the side in the last screen capture with the champaign glasses that I assume is from some sort of catering service and may or may not actually be affiliated with Encom (Would Encom have their own catering for things like this? probably not but I also wouldn't be surprised if they did).

Richard Mackey: I keep forgetting that Mackey is charman of the board and not CEO. According to Next Day and the ARG, the CEO from the time of Flynn's disappearance to 2010 is Kurt Harding.

Claire Atkinson: Vice chair of the board, maybe? That's what we're going with. She's important enough to have a spot at the table, right next to Mackey. I thought she was Mackey's secretary, but. She's important enough to have a spot at the table. She's important to the Board of Directors.

Ernie:

Not much is known about him, but for the sake of RP, I'm going with his full name is Ernesto Sepulveda, and he's security staff who often works night shift. He may not be business or tech minded, but he's got sharp wits, a kind heart and a mean left hook. He takes his job seriously, and for that, Ed appreciates him.

And now for the unnamed board members. Not sure who a lot of them are yet, but making up names to put to faces for the sake of it. I'm lazy and it's difficult to get screen caps of all of them individually, so here's one with the entire board:

On the far side, in order starting closest to Mackey, there is:

Claire Atkinson (hidden behind Mackey)

Diane Woods

Alan Bradley

Cynthia Knight

Curtis Clemons

Jerome Osborn

Cory Chandler

And on the other side again starting closest to Mackey there is:

Leonard Nelson

Emily Nguyn

Edward Dillinger Jr.

Janet Wells

Ivan Petrov

Mikhail Tatarchev

Xavier Boyd

I have no idea who these people are besides the fact that Ed describes them (except for Alan Bradley) 'business minded drones only concerned with profit margins, and having less soul than a hello world program.' Almost all of them have their noses far up Mackey's backside.

Ed's development team:

IDK how many people typically work on an OS, and it's probably hundreds split into smaller teams. Let's keep it simple and say there are nine Ed works with directly. Ed is probably familiar with the people they work directly with, but gonna leave it with just his core group for the sake of not over complicating things.

Ed's team consists of:

Selim Bardakci

Robyn O'Caiside

Cezar Da Costa

Valdis Dagrunarbur

Enrique Rivera

Mercedes Castaneda-Garza

Jeon Yeong-Ja

Ryann Rogers

Farley Jones

Fatimah Abdulrashid: Encom IT specialist. Has a love-hate relationship with Ed. She knows any time he comes in it's either going to be something stupidly simple that only requires a password, or something that's going to take up both their day trying to solve. At least he has the sense to not download viruses or fall for phishing attacks.

Interns: Four graduate students from UCSD working on a project in partnership with Encom: Rio, Virgil, Ajay and Hekla, plus three that are purely part of the Encom team: Isra, Mali, and Elija. Ed is extremely protective of his interns because of his own experiences as one.

[mumiyah]

𓂀𓋹𓆣 Biography.𓂀𓋹𓆣

BASICS:

Name: Fatimah El-Sayed, فاطمة الصيد

Aliases / Nicknames: Dr. El-Sayed, Professor El-Sayed, King Tut

Age / Birthday: 19-21

Height: 5'6"

Gender / Pronouns: Female, she/her

Orientation: Bisexual

Occupation: Egyptologist, professor

commission by: JackSimoneArt on Etsy !

NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS:

Visage: Tanned skin, dark brown eyes. Head is usually kept shaven for aesthetic / personal fashion purposes. Average height. Has an overbite.

Posture/Gait: Generally good posture, doesn't slouch unless exhausted. Walks with assistance from a cane, moderate pace unless walking long distances (she'd have to take short rests).

Dress/Fashion: Enjoys wearing flowy and loose-fitting fabrics. Wears a headscarf as an accessory, pairing it to her outfits. Likes to wear jewelry, such as earrings and bracelets. Her arms and legs are notably wrapped in order to prevent scratching or picking of her skin.

NOTABLE MENTAL TRAITS:

Motivations: Proving her worth, educating others, and the sheer enjoyment she gets from her job.

Fears: Losing freedom and the ability to make her own decisions, not being a competent professor, and being stuck under someone's permanent watch/command.

Likes: Sunshine, ducks, fruit, Ancient Egypt, learning.

Dislikes: Rain, how unlucky she is, pushy, forceful, and overly commanding people, the immense and near-constant pressure to perform well.

Hobbies: Going to museums, zoos, and aquariums, feeding ducks, going to parks, collecting rubber ducks, making jewelry, reading.

Personality: Seemingly wise beyond her years, Fatimah has been described as being mature for her age, even with her natural sense of curiosity. Despite being quite mild-mannered, she is usually under immense amounts of stress with the impression that she has to upkeep a reputation and impress others. She is fiercely independent, disliking the idea of working under someone instead of with them. She doesn't like being coddled or pitied. Unfortunately, she seems to find herself with terrible luck despite her achievements...small little things seem to pile up, such as tripping over a lace and spilling coffee, groceries falling out the bottom of the bag, etc. Every so often, however, she feels her luck increase. She's not sure what the cause of it is, but she's not complaining! It's a silver lining she can look forward to on occasion.

Disorders: Bipolar I disorder with psychosis, autism. More context/important notes here.

ABILITIES / POWERS: The Mummy's Curse, as it is called, is a collection of abilities that Fatimah uses during an episode. She does not have access to these powers unless she believes she is Tut. Many effects have been witnessed, such as a swarm of scarabs, a chosen victim immediately falling ill, and a victim being tightly wrapped in what appeared to be linen (much like a mummy). It has been said that staring into the eyes of Fatimah--or at least into the mask she wears, resembling the golden funerary mask of Tut--during this time causes a sensation of dread and fear. Those who survive unscathed may not be for much longer--there are lasting effects on the living that seem to be determined by Fatimah's mentality at the time. The higher the stress and the more manic she is, the more devastating the outcome.

The Curse is Fatimah's one defense, as she does not have physical strength nor fighting experience to back her up. In such cases that she is interrupted or caught; she is either flighty or bold enough to inflict consequences on whoever dared to show up.

BACKSTORY:

Fatimah El-Sayed was known to be rather intelligent ever since she was a child, favoring history and literature. She was a quick learner, picking up reading and writing faster than her peers. She gained a reputation for being a voracious reader with plenty of curiosity, tending to ask questions about nearly any subject under the sun. Her favorite, however, was Ancient Egypt, a topic important to her due to her Egyptian heritage.

The bright girl was perhaps a bit of a recluse for most of her younger years, finding enjoyment in solitude instead of making friends, but as she grew older, she seemed to open up more to company. She especially enjoyed sharing information she'd learned from her own studies, but she also enjoyed learning from others, too. Swapping facts was a fun time for her.

Fatimah entered college early, deciding to major in Egyptology and practically flying through the curriculum in record time. The profession was intriguing, as new discoveries happened even now, with archaeological digs, updated hieroglyph translations, and the discovery of the hidden identities of mummies. She worked towards getting her doctorate, writing a thesis on female pharaohs, and started to teach classes after graduation.

Occasionally, she herself would get involved with archaeological digs and other research, which is what led her to Gotham. An exhibit that she helped put together was being showcased in the city's history museum, and with it, she was offering tours and lectures. It is around the age of 19 that she first started to experience the symptoms of bipolar disorder, chalking it up to stress and the changes she'd recently experienced. She'd made a big move, and Gotham had been a particularly stressful environment. It even seemed her bad luck had gotten even worse.

First came the feeling of bugs crawling under the skin, causing her to scratch madly at herself. Then came the feeling of being watched. No matter where she'd be or hide away, there was the sensation of eyes on her. Then came the voices, and with the voices came The Curse.

With The Curse came The Belief. Fatimah found herself believing she was the Pharoah Tutankhamun, guided by the voices she heard. Anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross paths with King Tut could be struck by The Curse, which seemed to give the poor recipient bad luck. The consequences could be anything from just minor inconveniences to near-perilous accidents to death itself.

As time went on, Fatimah's doings were discovered and reported on. The papers, the news, word of mouth... all talking about a Mummy's Curse. She's caught wind of it, too, as it's impossible not to with something so bizarre. It's just her luck that she's tangled up in such a mess... why did Gotham have to be this way?

[notyourmotherscomefollowmeblog]

1 Nephi 11-14- Who is your neighbor?

There’s a story in Luke 10 where someone asks Jesus how to inherit eternal life. Jesus asks, “what is written in the law?” and this person says “Love God with all your heart soul strength and mind, and love thy neighbor as thyself” and then he asks Jesus “but, who is my neighbor?”

Jesus answers by telling the parable of the Good Samaritan. A man from Jerusalem is beaten and left for dead on the side of the road. A priest walks by and doesn’t help him. A Levite walks by and doesn’t help him. A Samaritan stops and helps him.

Who was this man’s neighbor? The Samaritan, the one who treated him like a neighbor despite being from different cities and despite the animosity between their different ethnic groups. We learn from this parable that you choose who is in your in group and who is in your out group. You choose who to make your neighbor.

In Nephi's vision in 1 Nephi 11-14, Nephi sees two churches- the Great and Abominable Church and the Church of God. Lately, I haven't felt entirely comfortable with this kind of good vs evil imagery, where one group of people is clearly good and one is clearly evil. It all too often leads us to imagine ourselves as wholly good and some other group of people as wholly evil, and more often than we like to admit, it leads people to justify actual violence and harm against the group they imagine as evil.

Growing up, the discussion on these verses has centered around the question "who is my enemy?" The great and abominable church has often been interpreted as a specific group of people, or any group of people who are not part of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. As Fatimah Salleh and Margaret Olsen Hemming pointed out in The Book of Mormon for the Least of These, the actual text of the Book of Mormon characterizes the Great and Abominable Church as worshipping wealth and power while perpetuating captivity and oppression of innocent people. They write:

“Disciples need to work to eradicate the values of the great and abominable church from our society. To do so, we need to look at our own organizations and institutions and our own history to see where we have worshiped at the altar of the great and abominable church. If we read these verses thinking that this evil church is always somewhere else and never within our midst, then we miss what God asks us to do. We have to remove it from our own walls and from our own hearts.”

How do we remove the great and abominable church from ourselves and our communities? We must stop asking ourselves "who is my enemy?" and begin asking ourselves "who is my neighbor?" We must stop seeking to justify ourselves by saying "I am good and you are evil so I don't have to love you." Instead, we must follow the example of the Good Samaritan, who actively chose to reach out across boundaries, to invite all into his in group, to make everyone his neighbor.