quin

Hey everyone! Go check out my little wolfstar oneshot for @thets12fest and get excited as tons of other amazing works get posted as well!

Despite the amount of ridiculous nicknames used in his friend group, Sirius Black had always been averse to pet names. They made him shiver, his skin crawling as an involuntary frown crossed his face. He couldn’t stand them, no matter who they were coming from. Even James was forbidden from calling him anything other than a version of his name or nickname.  Perhaps it had to do with his childhood.  OR 5 times Sirius Black doesn't like pet names...and one time he does.

remus: friend…? yes

remus: i-i mean i did know him

remus: that is, our paths did cross

Veritaserum was a requirement when Slytherins played Truth or Dare. According to Evan, it had always been a rule, passed down through generations and generations of Slytherins, each new group honoring their ancestors by respecting the necessity of using the potion.

According to Regulus, that was utter tosh, and Barty has stolen some one day in second, demanding they all use it, causing so much chaos that the rule became bible.

Either way, by the time they were all in sixth year, the fact remained: Slytherins did not play Truth or Dare without Veritaserum.

It was also true that Pandora Rosier asked the most soul-wrenching, deepest questions.

So, as a slightly-drunken Evan took a swig of his drink and stared his sister down, muttering ‘truth’ as he did so, he felt a few twinges of regret, knowing he was, perhaps, in for a twist.

But Pandora simply grinned innocently at him as asked. “When was the first time you fell in love?”

And, swear to Merlin, he knew the answer. He opened his mouth to say ‘never’ because it was true. He’d never fallen for anyone, never even really had a crush! It just wasn’t a thing! Except, when he forced air from his lips, the words he spoke were, “Train ride, first year.”

And everyone stared.

Gasping, he clapped a hand to his face.

“What,” Barty demanded, turning to him, eyes wide. 

“Stupid question. The better question is who?” Dorcas corrected, also looking completely shocked.

Hand still clamped to his mouth, he winced, thinking back. And the answer came to him so easily, it felt like he’d known all along. 

“Moment I met Barty,” he muttered, mortified, through his fingers, compelled to respond. He felt his face heat.

Gods, he hated Veritaserum.

Because it was true, wasn’t it? He’d always felt…differently for his best friend. The fierce kind of devotion he’d always associated with close friendship…well, maybe the lines were more blurry than he’d thought. And wasn’t that just bloody terrifying?

The whole group stared, aghast. Well, no. Half the group stared. The rest was looking at Barty.

Barty, whose wide eyes were locked on Evan, his panic reflected in them.

But of course, Regulus had to speak up and make the whole thing worse. “What do you think about that, Barty?” he drawled, small smile on his face.

Evan winced. Couldn’t everyone just leave well enough alone? Let him die of embarrassment and gay panic in peace? Let this go?

He was so terrified, he hardly heard Barty’s response.

“It was second year, for me. About you.”

Dumbfounded, his eyes shot up to meet his best friend’s.

And fuck, Barty looked so…sure. So…demanding. So…hungry?

“Shit,” he murmured, finally understanding.

Because it was trained on pirated work—including freely accessible online writing (like fanfic, academic texts)—ChatGPT picked up patterns and quirks native to human writing.

Including (sigh) the em dash.

There are other victims here (RIP tapestry and delve 🫠), but the appropriation of the em dash—a punctuation mark beloved by writers everywhere—feels especially personal.

A kind of low-grade panic is ensuing. Writers who once memed their own em dash overuse—the greatest punctuation mark ever to grace the control-freak’s lexicon, frankly—are suddenly backing away to avoid accusations.

No. More. We have centuries of dash-abusing writers behind us. We will not sit quietly while AI repurposes our beloved stilted aside—or the just-one-more clarification the sentence demands—or the dramatic pause your comma could never—etc.

You don’t write like AI—AI writes like you.

Defend the em dash.

(Feel free to download/share/stick it where it matters!)

The fact that even these two scenes are meant to be foils for each other makes me ill