#fanfiction
You know whats funny about kpop stans?
The concept of duality.
Like have you ever seen them use the the term “duality”?
Yeah its cause rooted in the fact these girls love to infantilize these grown ass men. Who are in there 20s hitting their 30s. They call them babies, literal kids, assume they are the purist and know absolutely nothing of the real world. But when the kpop stars just idk. Get angry, or do a sexy dance, or just give an intense gaze.
girls explode and go “OH THE DUALITY!!!”
Like bro. He’s human, he’s a complex human and pisses and shits like you do. These niggas can go and serve in the military and hold a gun, and have sex, and these girls will go “HE’S NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT HE IS LITERALLY TOO FRAGILE!!”
While simultaneously making erotic fanfiction of the kpop guy fucking his bandmate and showing it to the musicians.
Another thing. Like… stop acting like you know these people.
Stop making invasive essays about their personal life and how they ACTUALLY act
You treat these people like they arent even human. But little characters you play with. Like dolls. Projecting your disgusting fetishes onto real people. Like stop.
They’re people. Who didn’t consent to you being a fuck ass weirdo. Like stop. They’re human beings.
Why are you drawing them in lingerie and showing it to them.
Why are you writing weird mpreg fanfiction. Why are you harassing random girls who just stood next to them.
Dont idolize human beings for fucks sake.
notice how its really only a thing with kpop? theres an element of racism methinks
Fetishization is wonderful isn’t it?
Me: OK I’m gonna write this tiny little ficlet, just for fun, just to keep myself entertained for an hour or so
*one week later*
Me: …Well, I just need a little bit of research. Just a little bit
*two weeks later*
Me:Actually,
Did anyone ever find out the reason there’s so much hockey rpf? Like, there’s a ton.
- When someone is really freaking mad at me for inducing an emotional response from them
- when readers give me a background of how/when they read my writing
- when readers give me a background of why they shouldn’t have been reading my writing (usually while at work)
- when readers quote my work back to me in comments
- the frickin’ real heroes here, the ones who comment on every chapter of an ongoing multi-chapter fic
- when someone notices something I deliberately left as subtext and cries about it in the comments :3
- When someone notices something I did by accident and tells me how much they loved it and I get to feel like a genius XD
• when a commenter goes wild and types a 1000 words or uses way too many emojis… c:
- When someone picks apart my fic in the comments like they’re writing an essay
- the simple “how dare you”
Cowboy Like Me (Pt. 3)
Warnings: Smut, angst, cheating, rough sex and slight degradation.
Summary: Rip knows that Y/N slept with one of the cowboys, but will he be able to figure out which one? Also, Kayce and Y/N finally talk about what they want and which leads to *ahem* sexual relations and the official start of the affair.
Authors Note: This story is on Wattpad with an OC! My username is smashedrose and it keeps the same premise, although I would like to edit it further in the future.
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“Well who the fuck did then?” I hear my cousin state angrily “Shes not even twenty one yet, and here you are sneaking her into a bar and using her as a pawn.”
“I wasn’t twenty one when you snuck me in either.” Beth groans
“Yeah will this ain’t about us. She has had enough to deal with and here you are dragging her into your battles.” Rip yells, pacing and glaring at the blonde woman standing in front of him.
I make my way near the bunkhouse when I hear him yell at me “This ain’t over for you either! I didn’t bring you here for you to treat it like some damn dating game!”
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The boys eventually came back around dusk and went to their beds, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
How am I going to confront Kayce?
What happened to Jenkins?
Why don’t I feel guilty?
My thoughts are interrupted by the break of the door, which I almost missed due to the loud snoring coming from under my bunk. I open my eyes to adjust to the dark and hear a voice whisper my name.
“Y/N? Ya up?” I glance over and see Kayce standing near the wall, trying to stay hidden in case anyone happened to be up.
“Yeah, just give me one second. I’ll meet you outside.” I whisper back before climbing out of bed quietly and slipping on a coat and shoes.
Here goes nothing.
I make my way out the door and find him sitting on the fence staring at the sunrise. I make my way over to him, limping slightly due to the wooden bench he fucked me on a few hours before. Coming to a rest near him, I look up and he sighs.
“Look. You didn’t have to agree to-“
“When we’re you going to tell me you had a wife?” I ask, anxiety rushing through me and wanting to get this conversation over with as fast as possible.
“Beth told you.” He groans and looks at his hands “Look, I wasn’t expecting this to happen. At least not this soon. I was just happy for once talking to you and forgot.”
“You forgot you had a wife?” I’m taken aback by this, was he always such an asshole?
“No. I knew I had one and trust me I wish I didn’t.” He jumps off the fence and comes to stand next to me, taking my hands in his “I understand if you want to end whatever this was. You can walk away and i’ll call it a drunken one night stand.”
“I don’t know what to-“ I start but he continues speaking.
“But I barely know you and i’m so fucking attracted to you and I just need an escape.”
I look down at his calloused hands on top of mine, taking a deep breath before replying “I’ll be your escape for a few weeks before I leave. But the second this gets messy, I’m out.”
He looks relieved by this and nods his head, placing a kiss on top of mine.
“Oh and also, don’t do that lovey shit cause unlike you I’m not married and tend to fall easily.”
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I wake up back in my bunk alone, after spending the sunrise with Kayce. I look around and see everyone else getting ready for the day.
I’m gonna need a hot shower after last night.
I knock on the door only to hear a man yell “One fucking second!” Before opening it, clad in only a towel around his waist. I recognize him as the one with the guitar and hear him let out a laugh.
“Well darlin’ if I knew it was you I wouldn’t have used that tone. Wanna hop on in?” He winks, making me roll my eyes and slam the door. Grabbing my shoes and heading outside.
“Where ya going?” I hear him yell as I make my way down the gravel path to Rip’s house. I take a deep breath and knock on the door, hoping his anger subsided.
The door opens and he seems surprised to see me, saying nothing as I make my way inside and look around. “Where’s your shower?”
“Take one later, you’re gonna be covered in cow shit today.” He says and motions me out the door “And also, don’t think I forgot. We’re gonna be having a talk later.”
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I spent the whole day palpating cows and I was indeed covered in cow shit. I was pissed off beyond belief and my back still hurt, so I headed back into the empty bunkhouse.
God damn bed. That bench would’ve been more comfortable than that sorry piece of shit.
Opening the door, i’m greeted by the sight of Kayce sitting on my bed with his legs dangling off.
“You sure know how to turn a guy on.” He laughs taking in my appearance.
“Shut the fuck up and either fuck me in that shower or get out.” I state, begging to slip off my clothes.
“They’re gonna come back soon, i’ll take you to the main house and i’ll fuck you any way you want there.” He jumps off the bed and wrinkles his nose “But please do shower.”
I punch his arm lightly and grab a change of clothes, following him out the door and attempting to be as discreet as possible.
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A shower is exactly what I needed. I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel, feeling my foul mood subside and the stress from the day melt off. I creak open the door, seeing Kayce laying on the bed waiting for me.
“Well? Still want me to fuck you?” He asks, motioning to the bed.
I drop the towel and sit down next to him, leaning up the kiss him only to be shut down by this hand wrapping around my neck and his mouth near my ear.
“After that little outburst I think you deserve a little punishment.” He bites down on the earlobe before flipping me over on my stomach and angling my ass in the air.
He reaches his hand down to rest on my core and lets out a groan at the wetness that drips on it. “Damn Y/N, all ready for me.” He slips a finger in and makes the come hither motion, making me moan into the pillow.
I hear a belt buckle and jeans hit the floor and feet the hot head of his dick on my opening. I push back slightly, in an attempt to stick it in me, and i’m bet with a harsh swat on the ass making me scream.
“I’m in charge right now.” And with that he shoves his full length in me, making me see stars.
His pace is brutal, hands gripping my ass and occasionally spanking me. I’m at a loss for words and feel his hands in my hair, yanking me up while still fucking me.
“Shit- Fuck Kayce yes-“ He spanks me again causing me to scream.
“You think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve this dick?” He asks, headboard slamming ruthlessly against the wall.
I cant reply, caught up in the brutal pounding and I feel his hand make his way onto my clit, rubbing harshly and making my legs jello.
I fall back down, shaking and can feel my orgasm quickly building. He leans back down and says “Tell me, do you think you deserve to cum?”
“Please. Please!” I moan out, biting the pillows.
“Well if you say so.” He chuckles and continues to rub me while keeping up his pace. I can feel the beads of sweat hitting me but and my mind is in fragments as I feel the dam break.
He groans and I can feel him finish inside me, hot spurts of cum leaking out of me as he pulls out. Kayce lays down next to me panting and tucks a few strands of hair away from my face.
“Stay with me tonight? Everyone is out of the house.”
I nod with a smile and scoot closer, making him wrap his arms around me and as my head lays on his chest.
I guess that talk with Rip can wait another day.
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Part four coming soon!!
Cowboy Like Me (Pt. 2)
Authors Note: The next part is linked at the bottom! This is going to be a new series I will eventually move to Wattpad. I do not condone or support cheating this is purely fiction.
Warnings: Cheating, angst, mentions of sexual situations, mentions of blackmail, and violence. (No smut in this part but stay tuned for part three!)
Summary: Kayce comes to terms with what just happened and Y/N discovers his marriage and is conflicted. Should she continue or should she do what Beth says to prevent her from telling everyone?
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I stare in shock at the man laying over me, confused and ashamed that we got caught. I hadn’t even been there a day and I’m already hooking up with one of the cowboys, or at least I hope he’s just a cowboy and not one of the sons.
He gets off me in an instant and rushes to put on his jeans, throwing me mine and making a silent motion over his mouth with his finger. I nod and slip on my jeans, heart pounding as he goes to creak the door open, his body shielding the woman’s gaze from me.
“What makes you think i’m with Rip’s cousin?” I hear Kayce ask, making the woman laugh. “Well unless we happened to pick up that stripper Rip’s been wanting that would mean you’re either with me or with baby Wheeler. And I may be a mean son of a bitch but incest just ain’t my thing.” She says.
They’re related? I think to myself, mind whirling with questions about who I just slept with. And I know Rip would flip but who’s Monica and why would she also have the same reaction?
I shake the thoughts away and make my way to the door, laying a hand on his back letting him know it’s okay that she sees me. She looks me up and down and smiles to herself “Damn. Y’all’s family must’ve won the fucking gene lottery.”
I let out an awkward laugh and shuffle a bit, nervous about what i’m going to ask. “Can you please not tell him? We just met again after years apart and I don’t want him to think of me as some whore. I’ll do anything name your price.”
She seems thoughtful for a moment and I can see her mind brewing with ideas before she widens her eyes and smiles. “I’ll tell ya what, I won’t tell Rip OR Monica.” She glances at Kayce who’s looking at his shoes, wanting to be anywhere but here “But you little lady are going to help me with something. I can use those good looks of yours for a little business venture.”
“What the he’ll do you mean Beth she just got here don’t get her involved with-“ Kayce starts but is cut short when the woman, apparently called Beth, rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Don’t worry, it’s not anything that has to do with the ranch. Just a little favor for good old Daddy.”
“Beth I swear to god if you use her as a pawn for you’re fucking feud with Jenkins i’ll kill ya.” Kayce replies, catching onto whatever she is wanting me to do. I’m left confused and standing to the side, still trying to piece together what just happened.
“So what do you say little lady? Gonna accept or do you wanna be known as the fuck toy for your stay?” She states, wearing a smile as if knowing what i’m about to say. “Fine I’ll do it. But don’t you dare tell rip or whoever the fuck Monica is.”
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Apparently, what I agreed to was far less that what I was expecting. Beth led me to the main house and I stop in my tracks, piecing together the fact that she’s THE Beth Dutton.
I stare at her with my mouth open and quickly close it, before asking the question that I knew the answer to. “So, um Kayce is a Dutton?” I mumbled, looking down at my boots as we step onto the front porch. “You got a lot to learn around here but yes. I’m assuming you know who I am then?”
“Yeah, kinda figured it out considering I was told not to enter this house unless invited.”
“Who the fuck told ya that?”
“Rip.” I state and with that she smirks before turning towards me. “Well you can tell your dear cousin that the same rules apply to him. Never seen him follow that damn rule in my life.”
I nod and make my way inside, taken aback by the decor. Growing up, we never had much money so walking into this place felt like walking into a palace. Glancing around, I follow her down a hall before asking more questions about what she wants from me.
“So i’m just gonna seduce him? Isn’t he married?” I ask, while entering the bedroom door. “Yeah and you obviously don’t got an issue with that considering Kayce.”
“Wait- What?! He’s married?” I am wide eyed and my heart comes to a stop, realizing that Monica is his wife. “He didn’t tell ya? What a shame, I thought I was beginning to like you.”
“You liked me more when you thought I was a home wrecker?”
“Honestly yeah, never liked Monica and had been waiting on my little brother to do this. Hell, him not being able to keep his dick in his pants is what got him married in the first place.”
I’m in a state of shock, alcohol still in my system and I can’t help but laugh. Not out of joy of course but more out of shock that I’m in this situation in the first place. She shakes her head and smiles before heading to a wardrobe, pulling out a silk dress and heels.
“Alright Y/N, put this on and we’ll be on our way.”
I stare at the sage green dress and tan heels, admiring the way it glistened in the light. “Are you sure? If anything happens to this there’s no way that i can aff-“ I’m cut off by her.
“Don’t worry about that, think of it as a welcoming gift for my dear brothers mistress. God knows I’ve been waiting for it.” And my heart drops again at her name for me. Mistress. I just came here for work experience, not to be thrown into a fucking affair. I make a mental note to talk to Kayce after this and figure out what he really wants.
Besides, if Monica doesn’t find out what do I have to lose? I’ll be out of here in a few weeks and back at college, never seeing him again.
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Beth leads me into the hotel bar before coming to a stop near an older man with grey hair. His eyes seem to devour me and I discreetly shift, uncomfortable at the situation I put myself in.
“Well Dan, what a surprise running into you here.” Beth says, coming to sit down next to him. I take that as my cue to sit down next to him and lean over the bar, trying to get this done with as fast as possible.
“You’re not gonna introduce me to your friend?” He says, eyes still on me with a twinkle in his eyes. Fucking disgusting why did I agree to this, hell why did I agree to come to the ranch in the first place. My thoughts are interrupted by beth’s laugh and her words.
“This is Y/N, she’s a wrangler and what I would like to call a family friend.”
If that isn’t the biggest lie i’ve heard all night then I don’t know what is.
“Well Y/N it’s a pleasure to meet you. Tell me, how did the Yellowstone come to find you? I thought y’all only had murderous cowboys and land hungry old men.”
“Like you?” I hear beth say, sending a silent glare at me to not give any information about myself. Jenkins, or Dan as Beth calls him, rolls his eyes and faces her.
“And what do you want? You ruined my fucking marriage. You befriended my wife. What else could you possibly want from me?”
She smirks and grabs his face, running her nails over his skin. “Wanna come home with me and my friend? I can promise you, we’ll make it worth your while.”
She had already told me of her plan so I wasn’t taken aback, but the reality set in when she said those words. Was I really about to lead a man I barely know to his own death because I slept with a married man?
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I step out of the car, shaking. I knew what was coming, someone would come up behind him and drag him off to who knows where to do god knows what to him. Breathing in the cool air, I hear him step out and the sound of feet running towards him.
Closing my eyes, I wrap my arms around my waist and pray for this moment to be over. I hear screams and the sound of horses leading him away, and I shakily look at my feet.
A pair of boots are in front of me and I hesitantly look up, coming face to face with Rip.
“What the hell Beth. She doesn’t wear the brand why the fuck would you get Y/N involved in this?” He angrily asks, storming towards her and grabbing her arms.
“Met her tonight and figured I could use her. Relax, nothing happened to her.”
“Then why the fuck does she have those marks on her neck? Huh? You used my cousin as a fucking prostitute.”
Beth just laughs at this and winks at me, as if to say my secret is safe with her. I almost believe her until I hear “Trust me, Jenkins isn’t the one that marked up that pretty little neck.”
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Part Three…
Cowboy Like Me (Kayce Dutton x Reader)
Warnings: Smut, cheating, rough sex, overstimulation, choking, degrading language, and a tiny age gap.
Prompt: Y/N recently moved into the bunkhouse after reconnecting with her cousin, Rip. During her first night she runs into Kayce and sparks fly, leading to a passionate night and a rude interruption. Set during season one when Monica took off with Tate to live with her parents.
Authors Note: I do not condone cheating and i’m in no way affiliated with the show. I wish. This is purely fiction.
Also might make this a series so let me know if you want a part two! We need more Kayce fanfiction.
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Growing up my father always told me that my only remaining cousin was a monster for what he did to my uncle. I never knew what had happened but the question lingered in my mind even now as a 20 year old. My father wasn’t a nice man and the second I got my scholarship for Montana State University I left his drunken ass behind to pursue my own dreams.
If only he could see me now, I think to myself, sitting across from my so-called evil cousin. “So uh, what is your major?” Rip asked me while staring at his hands. A few minutes before he had told me what truly happened during that fated night so many years ago. “Animal Science actually.” I reply and he looks surprised at my revelation. “Well no shit, how about over your winter break you come with me and work at Dutton Ranch and gain some experience. I know your Daddy ain’t giving ya a home for christmas.” He says.
Everyone in this damned state knew of the Duttons and I was taken aback by his offer. “Are you serious?” I ask, hopeful that he’s not the mean man my father always made him out to be. “Yeah of course. I’d like to get to know ya considering you’re all I have left.”
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Now here I am, staring at the door to the bunkhouse that will be my home for the next few weeks. “You’re boss is really okay with this?” I whisper, nervous that I’ll walk in and make a fool of myself. “Of course, plus we’re about to be working on a bunch of new heifers and need more hands.” Rip chuckles, opening up the door.
The second I walk in it reeks of beer and the foul smelling scent of man. I wrinkle my nose, causing Rip to laugh and lead me over to the group of men playing cards. “This is my baby cousin Y/N, y’all don’t lay a single finger on her she’s here to help out over the break.” He sternly states, glaring at the man with guitar who was looking me up and down.
“Which bunk is open?” I ask the group of gawking men. They all stare at each other as if to gauge their reactions until finally the oldest cowboys says “Back left one.”
I make my way to my bed and set my hat on the floor, nervous about what I got myself into. I grew up riding horses and working cattle but i’d never been fully emerged into the lifestyle like this. I needed air to breathe so I put on my jacket and headed outside, marveling at the night sky.
I sat there for a while until I heard someone come up to me, expecting it to be Rip I pay no mind to it and continue to stare up at the sky.
“Who are you?” I hear a deep voice behind me ask. Startled, I turn around and see a man with dirty blonde hair and a slight beard towering over me. “Uh I’m Y/N.” I say staring up at the stranger. His eyes widen and he laughs, coming to sit down next to me on the grass. “Oh shit, you’re Rip’s cousin. I was expecting a child from the way he described you.” He says, laughing still.
I smirk and look back up, shaking my head. “Nah, I’m in college.” I laugh. I can feel his body heat radiating off him and realize I don’t even know his name. “Do you have a name?” I ask, to which he replies “I’m Kacey.” and takes a swig out of a bottle he had been holding.
“Well Kacey, you mind sharing?” I glance down at his bottle and back up at him, trying not to look like i’m checking him out. “Are ya 21?” He asks “In 2 months I will be.” I cheekily reply, grasping the bottle in his hands.
“Hell, close enough for me.”
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I can’t remember how we got here but next thing I know i’m on his lap with my hands in his hair, empty bottle discarded who knows where. His lips are on mine and he bites down on my lower lip gently, causing me to moan.
“Gotta be quiet, can’t let them know we’re out here doing this.” He whispers before attacking my lips again. I begin to slowly shift my hips and whisper in his ear “Well then why don’t you take me somewhere else?”.
He slowly stands up with me still in his arms, refusing to break the kiss. My body feels wobbly from either the alcohol, Kayce stumbling to a barn, or both. My mind races as he sets me down on a bench before rushing to shut the barn doors.
“Now, where we’re we?” He says before ripping his shirt off and laying on top of me. I feel up and down his chest, tracing my fingers over the brand. Huh, I guess the rumors about that were true.
But my exploration of him was cut short as he gripped my hands and held them over my head, attacking my neck with kisses. At this point I couldn’t hold in the moans and let go, knowing we were secluded enough. He reaches one hand down to lift my shirt, while still holding me on the wooden bench. His face retreats from my neck and he smirks at my lack of bra.
“You expecting to get with someone tonight?” He winks and I giggle looking up “Nah, it was more comfortable with this shirt.”
He leans down close to my ear and whispers “Good, because I don’t like sharing.”. He begins to lower his body down to my waist and eventually his face comes parallel to my belt buckle. “Ladies first.” He smirks and takes off the belt, along with my pants and underwear.
The cool air hits me and I subconsciously close my legs, making him look up. “You want this?” He asks before proceeding. I nod my head and smile “If you don’t fuck me right now i’ll find someone who will.” And with that his mouth is on my clit and he is sucking feverishly.
I cant help but scream, it’s been a while and he was just so good. He raises his head and teaches his hand up to place over my mouth and gets back to work.
He stops the torture on my clit and traces his tongues across every crevice, taking extra time with the places that encourage a muffled groan. His tongue feels like heaven and I can feel myself getting close, not knowing how long it has been.
Eventually he focuses on my clit again and adds a single finger, causing me to fall apart. In an instant I’m a quivering mess being held down by this arm as he continues his onslaught.
Once he’s satisfied he gets up and wipes a hand over his face, only to lip the juices back up. His hands fly to his jeans and they’re quickly removed, thrown into a pile with mine and he’s back on top of me in an instant.
“Your turn?” I ask hopefully, reaching down to stroke him. “No darlin, we’ll have time for that later. First I wanna be inside of you.” He groans and slowly pushes himself into me, stretching me open.
“Holy fuck.” I moan and cling to his back for support. “Holy fuck is right. You’re so fucking tight.” He says and begins thrusting in and out, picking up the pace as he goes.
His hands are everywhere, gripping me and eventually coming to rest on my neck, tightening as he moves faster. I can feel my body riding up and down the rough bench and although I know it’ll hurt tomorrow, it just felt so good in the moment.
“F-fuck Kayce, yes please don’t stop.” I cry out and with that he picks up his pace even more, slamming me into the bench with his hips. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
He shifts his hand around my neck to place his thumb on my mouth which I gladly accept and suck. He groans at the sight and grips my face hard and moans out “You like that? You like being my little slut?”
The pleasure was too much for me and I couldn’t take it anymore, looking up at him I moan out “You’re gonna make me cum again.”
He grips my thighs and spreads them wide, watching as I spiraled out of control. “Yeah? You gonna cum on this dick and let the whole ranch know who’s fucking you this good?” He mutters out and I lose it, screaming out his name into the night.
I feel him pulse within me and he collapses on top of me, kissing my cheek while panting. I groan from his weight and run my fingers through his hair.
Suddenly, we hear a knock on the door and a female laugh.
“Damn Kayce, Monica and Rip ain’t gonna be too happy about this.”
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Part Two…
Something’s Gotta Give - AngelOfDeath10 - Rurouni Kenshin [Archive of Our Own]
Enishi/Kaoru oneshot for @pinaytiger . Originally the request was for angst and I pretty much missed the mark, but hey…. have some fic for this rarepair anyway? :D
Also crossposted to The Pit.
(Unfinished - June 1, 2016)
James can’t sleep anymore.
He’s never been particularly restful, always fidgeting and stretching, even during sleep. His eagerness to move even follows him into his dreams. It hasn’t changed since the war. When it isn’t unbounded energy keeping him on the verge of waking up, it’s unease.
Today, it is the latter.
It has been three days since Voldemort disappeared, and James hasn’t slept since.
In the immediate aftermath, when the relief of finding their family alive had given way to wondering what exactly happened, Lily thought, briefly, that it had been a miracle. That the prophecy lingering over their heads had finally come to fruition, and their son had won. But James knew better. For the first time in his life, he was unwilling to trust in the goodness of the world. It didn’t take long to figure out why.
James cannot find rest in a world where Sirius Black isn’t alive.
They had been asleep, of all things. Finally under the protection of the Fidelius, finally able to ease some of the heavy weight of the worry and fatigue from trying not to be found, they turned in early that night. They did not hear Sirius when he came to check on Harry, or his quiet refusals to move away from Harry’s cot.
“Love magic,” is Dumbledore’s explanation when they ask. His tone sounds almost reverent, and for some reason, that makes James want to hit him.
There is one fact they do know, from the information flooding from the other side. At some point, Regulus Black asked Voldemort to spare his brother’s life. Albus doesn’t have an answer for how an eighteen-year-old boy had risen high enough in the ranks to be able to make such a request of Lord Voldemort. Regulus is dead now, so it’s not as if they can ask him.
All the same, Sirius was given a choice. Step aside and let his godson be taken, or suffer the consequences of standing in the way.
He had not hesitated.
Only the Order mourns. All along the wizarding world, celebrations are breaking out because of the Dark Lord’s fall. No one seems to care that it was at the cost of someone’s life. While fireworks light up the London sky in the daytime, James Potter lowers his best friend into the ground.
Minerva McGonagall is crying. James’s mother is gone, and Walburga Black could care less, but Minerva McGonagall is crying and James cannot look at her without feeling as if he’s forced her son into the grave.
He’s supposed to speak, of course. James is supposed to speak because he’s Sirius’s family, and everyone is looking at him for answers. And he tries.
“Sirius Black,” he says, hoarsely. His throat is too tight to continue, so he begins again. “Was—” is all James manages before he can’t find words.
Lily takes over then, in spite of the tears on her own face. She holds James’s hand in her own and their baby on her hip, and she’s so much stronger than him, because she can bring herself to use past tense.
Exhaustion doesn’t make James any less aware, so it’s not hard to navigate people after the service, speaking when he’s supposed to and nodding when he’s not.
If he were to choose to speak to anyone, it would be Remus, but neither of them can look each other in the eye. Lily, beautiful and unbending to their brokenness, hands Harry over to James and takes Remus into her arms. James looks away when his shoulders begin to shake.
Harry fists his hand in James’s shirt, and James looks down at him. He is smiling, because he does not know any better. There is a scar on his forehead from three days ago, still fresh. It had been Harry’s crying that woke them up moments before the explosion.
His son’s life is a gift from Sirius which he will never be able to repay.
Lily’s hand on his shoulder guides him away from the crowds eventually, and he’s grateful. They walk to Bathilda’s house, their temporary home. It isn’t far, because Sirius has been buried in Godric’s Hollow next to the parents who loved him.
“He was supposed to come over today,” says James pointlessly. Lily knows this. She has been just as excited for it as he has. Still, he feels the need to fill the silence. The world is too quiet now.
Lily nods, eyes downcast. “I was going to make him a cake.”
Sirius Black will never be twenty-two, but they throw him a birthday party anyway.
There were three stories left in my drafts on this blog that for whatever reason, I didn’t want to part with. So, you’re getting them now, incomplete, but posted. Last vestiges of old writing. It is what it is! Hope you’re all well.
-
(Unfinished - Mar 27, 2016)
When James Potter is seventeen years old, Lily Evans decides he doesn’t know anything about Muggles.
“My family’s lived alongside Muggles for centuries,” he says, frowning.
Lily eyes him dubiously. “James, who is the Prime Minister?”
“Churchill?” he tries. He’s certain he’s seen the name in one of his textbooks.
By the way that Lily looks heavenward for patience, his answer is a bit out of date. She turns to his wardrobe and starts pulling articles of clothing out. “You’re due for a lesson, mate. We’re going to London.”
James protests that he’s been taking Muggle Studies since third year, so he must know something, but Lily promptly informs him that Muggle Studies is a rubbish class founded upon the same identity politics used to justify British colonialism. James blinks, and lets her hand him a t-shirt and jeans so he can change.
On their way down the stairs, James shouts to his mother that he will be going out and if his body is found she should send the Aurors after Lily Evans. His mum tells them to have a nice time.
When they arrive in London, James almost loses her in the crowd. At first he assumes this is normal, considering how many people live here compared to the countryside on which he was raised, but then he notes the shouting.
“Why is everyone yelling?” he asks Lily. She grabs onto his hand so that she can pull him through the sea of people.
She says something about “wage restraints” and “labour” but her explanation is lost in the din.
James thinks about how dangerous it is to have this many Muggles gathered out in public at once, when attacks have becoming bolder and no longer restrained to the night. Then he wonders how he could be a crowd full of people in a city he visits at least once a holiday and have no bloody clue what they’re protesting. Lily Evans is right; he knows nothing about Muggles.
A man hands James a pamphlet, and he figures out what they’re protesting comes down to money. It’s hard not to feel a bit stupid at that. Gold has never been an issue for his family, and though he’s always known that’s better-off than a number of his peers, the sheer number of protesters over something like this has taken him off-guard.
He looks at Lily and thinks about how money tends to follow old blood in wizarding Britain. The Blacks, the Malfoys, the Potters. Even as magically talented as they are, Remus and Lily will never have half so many doors open. Money is certainly not the cause of the divide, but perhaps it’s a symptom.
“Is the rest of this day designed to me feel like a prat as well?” James asks, raising his voice as he leans towards her.
Lily grins. “Yes.”
And in spite of his discomfort, James cannot help but return her smile. “Looking forward to it.”
When the Muggle law enforcement starts to disband the protest, Lily decides it is time for them to make their exit. She blends into the group with an ease James can only hope to mimic, and once she’s pulled him into a shop, she explains, “You don’t have any identification. Couldn’t risk your smarmy arse getting taken in by a policemen and having them deport you when they realize you don’t technically exist.”
“The only identification I need is in these jeans.” James smirks, tapping the wand in his pocket. He expects the sock to his arm that Lily delivers. “Besides, I exist. I reckon it’s all sort of the same government.”
Lily laughs. “Yeah, I see that going over well. ‘You see, Sergeant, we should all be one government, really.’ Combine that with being out at a union strike, you might as well be waving a red flag at their headquarters.”
Like before, James isn’t sure that he’s caught her whole meaning, but he laughs anyways, because he likes it when Lily does, and they’re standing in a record shop ducking the police. He turns his gaze to the albums, but his attention is still on Lily as he asks, “Is this how it feels all the time?”
She runs her hands over the cover art of a band he doesn’t recognize. “How what feels?”
“Like people are speaking in half-sentences,” he admits, giving her a side-long glance.
Catching on, Lily raises her eyebrows. “Sometimes. But it’s not really the same, is it?”
James flips a record over in his hands for want of something to keep him busy. “What d’you mean?”
“I’ve got to do both,” Lily says with a shrug. “I go to school and learn what it means to be a witch, but I come home and return to living like a Muggle. I can’t just ignore it like you can.”
Somehow, this feels like an insult. “I don’t try to ignore it.”
She shrugs again. “You don’t need to try.” Perhaps sensing that his hackles are raised, she adds, “I know you’re willing to learn. I wouldn’t have asked you to come out otherwise.”
He nudges her with his shoulder. “And here I thought you asked me here for the pleasure of my company.”
Lily finally meets his gaze directly. They pause, a quiet moment in a noisy shop. “There’s that too,” she agrees, and the moment passes.
James clears his throat and suggests they browse the shop in earnest. This, at least, is a subject in which he does not feel so lost. He’s listened to music like this with Remus, even has his own records, and music is not something so dissimilar across worlds. The words may be different, but the frustration is the same.
Lily buys a record for James that she declares “post-punk.” As she is pulling out the correct change, he comments, “I didn’t realize punk was dead. Sirius will be heart-broken.”
Very seriously, Lily tells him, “Punk will never die.”
The clerk chuckles as she hands over the record. “Tell that to PC Plod outside,” the girl says, and Lily laughs. The girl leans closer and lowers her voice. “You ought to come to our gig tonight. Me and my mates are playing down the road at half ten. You can bring your boyfriend,” she adds, with a side-long glance at James. He blushes.
Instead of correcting the girl, Lily tugs on James’s wrist and says over her shoulder, “I just might.”
There are a number of fics in the drafts of this blog that I started a few years ago, and no longer feel the inclination to finish. But there are still some pretty fun bits and bobs, so I’m going to throw them all up in one post if anyone is interested in some disjointed excerpts.
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Dueling - Jan 27, 2014
James has his hands on her shoulders, and she is calculating how best to catapult him off of her body when his lips descend to kiss her thoroughly.
“James,” she protests, as they pause for a breath, “we’re supposed to be fighting.”
“Sorry,” he murmurs, but the grin on his face contradicts his apology.
Later, when they are about to leave, Lily says, “I think we should compartmentalize our situations.” She does not meet his eyes, choosing instead to rub nonexistent grease off of her wand by running it against her jeans.
“How so?”
“Well… as much as I like snogging you, I think that we should have… snogging times, and dueling times. So we can be efficient with, er, both,” It sounds oddly formal and for reasons Lily is unsure about, a flush has risen in her cheeks. She still refuses to look him in the face.
James tilts her chin up, a gleeful look on his face. “Lily Evans, are you asking me out?”
She splutters out an indignant protest but James just grins all the wider. “Youare asking me out,” he says, leaning closer to get her to look at him directly. Her cheeks are hot as his hands move to either side of her face. “Yes.”
–
And There Was Only One Bed - Feb 2, 2014
“One of you can come up and sleep with me.” As all four boys seem to prepare themselves for a smarmy comment, she adds, “Don’t start, gits. You know what I mean.”
“If someone’s joining you, Wormtail’s out,” Sirius says, his eyes flicking to the boy in question, “he’s a kicker.” From his tone, it seems that Sirius has experienced this very quality one too many times.
Peter huffs indignantly. “Padfoot’s a prat, I kicked him out of a hammock one time—” He cuts himself off as he sees the black-haired boy fingering his wand. “Fine, I’m out.”
“I’m out, too,” Remus says with a sigh. “I roll about too much, I’m afraid. I’d be falling out of the bed anyway.“
James does not say anything, but instead he and Sirius seem to communicate something with a glance between them. James gives Sirius a warning look, but Sirius simply grins and pats the wooden arms of the chair, saying, "I’m comfortable where I am,”
“C'mere, then,” Lily says to James, gesturing to the spot next to her. Shooting a loaded glance at his best mate, he sits down.
–
Pecker Parody - April 22, 2014
James Potter had a problem. This particular dilemma was approximately five feet tall, freckled, and had a habit of popping up at inopportune times.
This problem was his diddly-doo. His magical wanking stick, if you will. You see, while having a dingler the size of a broomstick was all well and good when he was a boy, due to the fact he could ride it around like a pogo stick, at the age of eighteen, it was a bit more troublesome.
The truth of the matter was that he wanted to put his party popper inside Lily’s cash register, but he didn’t know how to tell her.
–
Birth - March 15, 2015
“I can’t believe you just did that,” he says in awe. “Did you know you could do that?”
Brushing some of her hair out of her sweaty face, Lily laughs. “I’d had some time to get used to the idea, yeah.”
James looks back at the bundle in his arms, and then again at his wife. “You just pushed an entire person out of you. Our person. He’s not tiny, either. I mean, he is tiny, but only because he’s a baby. Otherwise, he’s quite a large thing to be exiting any orifice.”
“If we ever do this again, you can do that part,” she says leaning back against the pillows.
–
Grease AU - June 25, 2015
(Also posted here.)
“This is… ridiculous,” she murmurs against his lips.
James laughs. “It’s a little late to denounce snogging on the beach, Evans, since we’ve been doing it for the past few weeks.” As he speaks, he drops his mouth to her neck, smiling as her eyes flutter.
Lily pulls his face up by the chin to meet his gaze. “I meant this whole thing.” She gestures around them. “After what happened after the Defence O.W.L. at the end of last term, how can you find any of this normal? Everything was such a mess after. Hell, if we hadn’t both come to the same place this holiday, I’d still be stewing in it by September.”
“But we did,” says James, brushing his nose against hers. “We talked and we yelled and we talked more and then you threw yourself at me.”
He dodges her swat at him much too easily to satisfy her, but at her raised brow he makes an amendment. “Alright, so I may have done some of the throwing. I’m a Chaser. I need to hone my reflexes.”
“My point is, it doesn’t feel like you’re Potter on this beach,” Lily says, ruffling his hair pointedly. She smiles. “You’re just James.”
“Just James,” he repeats, adjusting so he lies beside her instead of half atop her. “You make it sound like I’m two different people.”
It is Lily’s turn to laugh. “Aren’t you? I can’t imagine this version of you hoisting someone up by their ankles.”
“Of course not,” says James immediately. “I’m wearing trunks. Where would I keep my wand?”
Lily is already giggling by the time James begins suggesting locations on his body that he might be hiding his wand, and by the end of his lewd list, she is nearly having a fit on the sand. When she catches her breath, she looks at him. “I know I don’t get to keep Just James forever,” she says, leaning on his arm. “But at least try to preserve the illusion for me when we get back to school by avoiding me.”
James is quiet for a moment, but when he speaks his voice is soft. “You’re being silly, Lily,” he tells her, pulling her closer. “This is who I am. Caring about your feelings, about anyone’s feelings, isn’t exclusive to this beach.”
She kisses him, slowly and deeply. “Try to remember saying that.”
James grins. “If I’m going to be reliving a memory from this holiday, I reckon I have to choose the night under the pier—”
Lily laughs, cutting him off with her lips. “Be quiet, James.”
–
Masquerade - Dec 16, 2015
“So you’re Muggle-born, then?” he says thoughtfully. She stiffens, and he hasten to add, “It doesn’t matter to me. I’m just trying to figure how that narrows down the options for who you are.”
She smiles, but then looks a little put-out. “That’s hardly fair, I don’t know anything about you.”
“Pureblood,” he tells her, kissing her neck.
“A pureblood that doesn’t care that I’m Muggle-born? That does narrow down the options.” Her fingers tug at his robe. “N.E.W.T. classes?”
He shakes his head, kissing her lips quickly. “Too easy. Do you play Quidditch?”
“No. Do you?”
After a moment of hesitation, he says, “Yes,” so she is quick to follow with a suspicious, “On a team or for leisure?”
He laughs. “Both.”
–
Problematic.jpg - March 29, 2016
“James Potter,” Lily says to Mary suddenly, “is my problematic fave.”
“Receipts, please,” says Mary, not looking up from her copy of Witch Weekly.
“Plus, he’s like, a pureblood. So he’s got the whole legacy of all that fucked-up culture.”
“But like, a lowkey pureblood. He’s 12% Muggle-born.”
–
Junks the Trash King: The Sequel - April 18, 2016
“I’ve met the Rubbish Man,” announces Lily upon entering her flat.
“Good, tell him we need a new recycling bin,” says Mary absently. “There’s a family of raccoon living in ours.”
“Not him, Junks.”
The name catches Mary’s attention. “The soulmate?” she asks, straightening up. “How was he?”
Lily drags herself over to their kitchen table and collapses into a seat. “Not named Junks, for one.” Lily holds up her palm for Mary to inspect. “Apparently this is supposed to say ‘James.’”
“Shame. I’d rather hoped to one day receive a wedding invitation inviting me to the marriage of Lily and Junks. Though I’d have to bin it for the wordplay, you understand.” Lily turns her hand so she can flip Mary the bird, but from the look in her eyes, her friend has already spotted something new. “Got his number already, did you?”
–
Baby Brain - June 15, 2016
“I think I’m pregnant,” says Lily, so quietly that James almost doesn’t hear it.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” she repeats, turning over in bed to face him. “I tell you I might be up the spout and all I get is, ‘Oh?’”
James grins at her in the dark. “Would you have preferred ‘Blimey?’” He expects the pillow that’s aimed at his face.
“James.”
“Yes, dear?”
“Would you be okay with it? If I am?” It’s hard to see her eyes clearly with such little light, but James can hear in her tone that she’s nervous.
“I… Yeah, I would,” says James, seeking out her hand. “You know I want kids with you. I mean, I might not have seen this starting so soon, but I think we’re pretty great at improvising. Remember our wedding reception?”
Lily laughs. “Somehow I don’t think using Dumbledore’s hat to catch projectile vomit is the same thing as raising a child.”
“I think you’ll find they’re remarkably similar.”
She laughs again. “I’m trying to work myself into a worry, James, and you’re making it very difficult.”
He leans over to kiss her on the cheek. “Sorry, dear. Feel free to treat our child as a sign of impending doom.”
Lily leans her head onto his shoulder. “We’re nineteen, James.”
“Old enough to be married,” he replies, poking her with his ring finger.
“We don’t know anything about children.”
James smiles. “Children don’t know anything either, so we’ll be on a level playing field.”
–
(ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿ Hold My Flower - August 17, 2016
“Lily, no.”
She scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘Lily, no?’ I didn’t say anything.”
“Lily,” he says cheerfully, throwing an arm around her shoulder, “We have been married for forty-five years now—”
“Dating for eight months,” she corrects, holding back a smile.
James waves a hand dismissively. “So, in that time, I am confident that I’ve grown to recognize what your faces mean. And that face said, ‘I’m going to put frogspawn in his tea.’”
“I don’t carry around frogspawn, James.”
He looks at her dubiously. “But you’d find some, wouldn’t you?”
–
Countdown - October 31, 2016
“Padfoot gets back from his assignment tomorrow,” Lily tells him, eyes on their calendar.
James pauses in trying to convince his son of the merits of pureed beets. His eyes drift towards the day on the calendar circled in red. Lately, they’ve taken to marking their calendar with the events of their day, if only to make the days seem more distinct. August 27th: ‘At 3 o’clock, Harry said his first full sentence.’ September 12th: ‘At 6 in the morning, the cat brought James a present and left it in his mouth.’ Tomorrow, October 31st, is a rare date that marks the future.
“Good,” he says. “I was hoping he’d be back before his birthday.”
A small, hopeful smile blooms on her lips. “Perhaps we can finally give him a nice celebration. I know Moony is still underground, but Wormy said he’d stay close by. I could bake him a cake.”
“Cake!” says Harry, and James laughs. He takes advantage of his boy’s opened-mouth enthusiasm to give him a spoonful of beets. The look he receives is nothing short of betrayed.
Victorious and still chuckling, James turns back to his wife. “We can ask him to come by as soon as he’s home.”
–
Baby I’m Trying: The Sequel Pt. 1 - Jan 4, 2017
He wishes his mum were still around, but since she’s not, in his desperation, James consults his neighbour, Batty Bagshot. Though she’s had no children of her own, she’s looked after many of her nieces and nephews over the years, and James has never been more thankful to hear her drone on.
After his conversation with Bathilda, he comes home, arms laden with all the supplies she recommended he find. Sirius’s eyes are wide as James brings the load inside the flat. “Reckon you got enough?”
James slumps over to the floor and leans his head on the pram. “This stuff is only for the first six months,” he says, staring into space. “Do you knowhow many times a day a baby needs formula? D’you think McGonagall will let me take the baby to class?”
Sirius considers it. “McGonagall does let her cat into the lectures. Although,” he says, wrinkling his nose and holding the baby out to James, “she knows how to use a litter box.”
James wonders if it’s pathetic to google ‘How to change a nappy.’
–
Baby I’m Trying: The Sequel Pt. 2 - Jan 4, 2017
In three days, James has a paper documenting that the baby is one hundred percent, undeniably his. He hadn’t doubted that he was, but it’s something different to see it on paper. It makes the whole thing more real for him. He sets about telling the rest of his friends, and while they are as surprised as he is, they take it in stride and help him sort it out, as they’ve always done.
“What are you going to name him?” asks Remus.
“Wilberforce,” suggests Sirius, grinning.
James cracks a smile at that. “Maybe something unisex. Elvendork?”
“You’ll have no trouble calling out for him if you ever lose him,” says Peter fairly.
James laughs. The baby fusses a bit in his arms and he runs a hand over the dark mass of hair that is already on this boy’s head. “Could go with a family name,” James says thoughtfully.
“I’m going to take a moment to remind you that your father’s name was Fleamont,” says Remus.
He shakes his head. “My grandfather,” James says.
None of the boys know much about his grandfather, since he died while James was still in primary school, but Sirius lived with his parents for a time, and he knows James better than anyone else. So it is Sirius who asks, “Henry?”
“Harry,” corrects James. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but the baby stops squirming. “His name was Henry, but they called him Harry.”
“Harry Potter,” says Peter. “I like it.”
His son has a name. “Harry Potter,” James repeats quietly.
–
Ring Out - June 15, 2017
“Frank and Alice are engaged,” Sirius tells him as he slides a drink to James across the table.
James lifts the pint into the air. “Congratulations to them,” he says, and he means it. He knows many couples rushing to the altar these days, but Alice and Frank seem the best-suited for marriage of all of them. He takes a large swig of his firewhiskey.
Sirius raises an eyebrow. It takes no more than this movement for James to know what he will say next. Still, Sirius asks, “When are you going to ask her?”
“What, you reckon because everyone else we know is getting married, I ought to as well?” James asks, mirroring his friend’s expression.
Sirius snorts. “No, I reckon that you’re horrendously in love with Evans and want to ask her to be your wife.”
James takes another drink. “We’re in the middle of a war, Padfoot.”
“Seems to be reason enough for everyone else,” Sirius counters, shrugging.
“Exactly,” says James firmly. “I don’t want Lily to marry me because she’s afraid we’re doing to die.”
Sirius pauses, reaching for his own firewhiskey. After a moment, he lowers his glass and shrugs once more. “We might.”
“We might not.” James retorts. He runs a hand through his hair. “I’d rather wait for her to be certain.”
“You’re living together,“ Sirius says, and when James opens his mouth he shakes his head. “You say you live with me but you spend more time at Lily’s than you do at ours.”
James chuckles. “So your concern is that we’re living in sin? Talk about glass houses, mate.”
i think it’s funny when people are like “dark fiction or tragic fiction is ok if it’s about overcoming trauma or showing the outcome of a mistake” bc like that feels weirdly christian (though not saying only christianity promotes that) like it must always have a “moral” or whatever and meanwhile aristotle’s idea of catharsis is like “hey sometimes people just feel better and have their negative emotions purged when they see fucked up shit happening to an innocent fictional character that did no wrong in the story because as a fictional story literally no one is getting hurt”
That is exactly why the greeks wrote tragedy. They believed catharsis was the expelling of negative emotions. So they wrote heartbreaking plays where no one was happy in the end because sometimes life just sucks.
Sometimes you don’t wanna listen to Mamma Mia and laugh, you wanna listen to This Impossible Year and cry. And that’s okay.
Anyway go stream @feuillytheflorist ’s new fic which made me have this violent of a reaction.
This is your daily PSA to leave comments on the fics you read! Writers love them and it makes us more motivate to create Wonderfull stuff for y'all!
A Sudden Outcry: The Tolkien Estate and Fanworks | Silmarillion Writers’ Guild
This article is part of our new column Cultus Dispatches, which looks at the history and culture of Tolkien fandom.
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A Sudden Outcry: The Tolkien Estate and Fanworks
When the Tolkien Estate recently presented their newly revamped website, it did not take fans long to see past the new artwork and other features to find that the Tolkien Estate has a policy on fanworks. The past several days have seen a whirl of discussion about what it all means that can be distilled down to a single burning question:
Did the Tolkien Estate just ban fanworks?
In short, no, the Tolkien Estate did not just ban fanworks. The fanworks you have posted, are in the middle of creating, or are even thinking about creating are not affected by what the Estate says on their website.
The longer answer depends on if you’re interested in the just or the ban part of that question (or maybe both!). While the following is not legal advice, we hope it will lessen the worry that the existence of fanworks is in jeopardy. As always, bear in mind that laws vary from country to country. If you have specific concerns, the Organization for Transformative Works’ legal committee, while unable to give legal advice, can answer questions you might have.
The History of the Tolkien Estate and Fanworks
For the majority of its existence, the Tolkien Estate website has addressed fanworks in its FAQ. The Tolkien Estate opened its website in 2006, and for its first year, it was little more than a landing page with information on the (then) new book The Children of Húrin. Around April 2007, the site expanded considerably, and fanworks were addressed for the first time:
If you reblogged the original panic over the Tolkien Estate, please help by reblogging this and stopping the spread of misinformation.
lol AO3