i was in middle school when this fandom was in its hay day and i took complete advantage. i read so much fucking fanfiction lmao it didnt matter if it was complete garbage. i remember reading these fics and having them play in my head like movies, but as i go back to them now they are completely unreadable.
i want to relive how i felt when i first read those fics but i cant get over this barrier. and everyone who wrote for the fandom has grown out of it so its just the old stuff left. ugh idk it sucks lol.
Long-story-short I recently started writing fanfic again but it’s basically just a self-indulgent story about one of my OTPs
Just finished the prologue and intend to work in a couple of chapters before thinking about publishing it and…well, that’s the problem
I’m not really sure about actually publishing it, I made the mistake of comparing my work with someone else’s and thought “Well…their writing is better and the way they portray the characters and how they feel and act feels natural and very canon. I don’t think I can’t do the same, maybe I should just keep the story to myself”
I really don’t care much about validation, I write for fun and if someone can find enjoyment, even if they don’t say it with comments or something, in what I wrote then that’s enough for me. I guess, I just don’t have confidence in my writing because its been too long since the last time that I wrote a fanfic
Or maybe is just me thinking that the plot is dumb or that my self-indulgence is making the characters act OoC. Again, I’m writing this mostly for myself, I’m not even sure if I’ll finish it because I’m still thinking how it should end, but I can’t help but think “Maybe I should post this….but what if people think is too OoC and this pairing have better writers doing a better job than me”
So, good news is, I’ve fallen back in love with one of my fics.
The bad news is, I hate the way my writing is in that particular fic. The worldbuilding isn’t really all that there, and there are some plotlines that I straight up dropped at a certain point and never got back to, and have no idea where I had even been going.
So, I started re-writing the fic, and I really, really love how it’s coming along. I have two chapters done, but now that I’m ready to post them, I feel stuck. I’ve never re-written a fic before, so I don’t know what to do when it comes to posting it. Do I:
Just replace my current fics chapters with the new ones once I get all of them re-written?
Abandon the old fic and start it over with a note in the summary directing readers to the new fic?
I know this is a very strange post, but hear me out. I’ve been writing fanfiction since 2008. I’m a dreamer and I express my creativity in various ways. I like writing, I do, but I prefer editing photos compared to writing even more. (English is not my first language and I still struggle with my writing) That’s why if I can, I prefer to make .gif covers that shows what to expect in a story. However, creating these .gifs covers for my stories doesn’t really matter because I often fail to finish my fics because of my short attention span.
For this reason, I’m willing to accept request from other writers who are more passionate about writing than I am. At least, in this way, I can help other writers reach other readers through this method.
So I will be taking the first three commenters who are interested to have covers made for them. I am doing this for free.
Here are Samples of Covers that I made so far, which included the first 3 people who commented on my previous post. (At the bottom part of the sample covers, there is a risque cover for a fic which I labelled NSFW. So you’ve been warned.)
And I will be making another post like this on the 30th of this month.
Also, this is my way to celebrate for finally reaching 350 user subscribers in my AO3. Needed to take a break from writing for a bit.
Once (Y/n) arrived back to her apartment she packed everything away and looked at her watch, she could feel a tightening feeling form in her stomach as her nerves started building, she was nervous for her date with Max, she didn’t know anything about him and they had only run into each other three times.
“That’s why dates exist, (Y/n),” (Y/n) mumbles to herself. “He’s not a murderer, for fuck sakes.” She walks towards her bedroom and started looking through her things for something to wear, La Pierre De Lune was considered to be expensive and for the rich only, the scenery was always elegant and a band was always playing soft music in the background, the tables were always covered with cream coloured table cloths, candles would be in the middle of the table as well to decorate the table.
(Y/n) walks out of the apartment complex and saw a white sports car parked in front of the building with Max leaning against it, he had his hands in his pockets and smile tugged at the corner of his lips, he pushes himself away from the car and stepped towards her, meeting her halfway.
“You look absolutely beautiful.” Max compliments her, the dark blue one-shoulder dress hugged her body perfectly, the black open toe heels matched her dark blue dress that almost seemed to be black perfectly. “I might just have to hire a bodyguard, nobody is going to keep their eyes off you.” (Y/n) could feel the blood rush to her cheeks at his comment.
“Thank you.” (Y/n) softly says. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” He wore a pair of dark blue denim along with a white t-shirt, with a black leather jacket, she suddenly felt a little overdressed.
“Shall we go?” Max asks, she nods her head, he turns and placed his hand on her lower back guiding her to his car, he opens the door for her and patiently waited for her to climb in before closing the door, he quickly walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in, he turned the key in the ignition, the engine purring to life.
“I uh, I have to admit, this is my first time in a sports car,” (Y/n) says as she looked at the interior with amazement as she buckled herself in, he drove away from her apartment building.
“Then I hope we see more of each other,” Max says. “I wouldn’t want this to be your first and only experience.” (Y/n) softly smiles at him.
“Then I do hope that tonight goes well,” (Y/n) says before staring out the window, the lights from the city passing by them with the speed of lighting. “You’re off to a good start.” Max smiled to himself as he stops a red light.
“That is good news for me,” Max says. “Would you mind if I ask what brought you to Velours?” He was curious, Velours wasn’t a cheap city to live in and to make a living would take a lot of work, and after peeking into her bank account, he had more questions.
“I know, I know, I’m so poor and then I move to a city that’s pretty expensive, but it’s always been a dream of mine to come to Velours,” (Y/n) explains. “I saw pictures on the internet, the lights during the night is absolutely breathtaking, my parents warned me, but this was my dream, coming to Velours to experience the beautiful city.” Max nods his head as he drives away from the red light, they were close to La Pierre De Lune. “I have a year to experience Velours, and if I don’t have a big enough income by the end of the year, I have to move back home.” Max’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, if there was one thing that he did not want was for her to leave the city again. “I’ve heard about the dangers of the place, but I haven’t seen it yet.” Max couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought that she had no clue who he was, and he was the danger the world was talking about.
“I can assure you when you’re with me, no danger will come near you,” Max says, (Y/n) glanced at him and smiled at him. “I give you my word, and if you are in danger, you can always come to me.” He stops in front of La Pierre De Lune and climbs out the car, he walks around the car and opened her door and held his hand out for her to take, she carefully placed her hand in his and stepped out the car, Max glared at the valet as they walked towards the entrance, the Valet quickly scrambled towards the sports car and took it the parking lot, they enter the restaurant.
“Mr Verstappen.” The Host spoke as he saw his boss enter, (Y/n) was busy looking at everything, she had never seen it in person, only in pictures from advertisements on the side of the road or in the centre of town where LED boards were up and advertising everything. “Right this way.” They were led up some stairs and to a table in a corner, which was the usual spot Max would sit when he would be attending a business meeting or wanted a night to himself. “I will send somebody with menus and assist you for the night.” They arrive at the table, Max quickly pulling the chair out for (Y/n) to sit on, she smooths out her dress before taking a seat.
“Just hurry,” Max mutters as he pushed her chair in before moving towards his seat, he takes a seat across from her, gently smiling at her, the host quickly leaves the table in search for one of the waitresses. “What are you thinking?” He could see the amazement on her face as she looked around, she quickly turns her focus on him.
“It’s almost as beautiful as the pictures on the internet,” (Y/n) says. “Pictures don’t do it justice.” Max nods his head, smiling at her compliment. “And the view seems absolutely amazing.” She looks away from him, her eyes moving towards the large window displaying the city’s lights twinkling outside. “We might just be one story higher, but it’s such a breathtaking view.” Max stared at her as she admired the city outside, she appeared so pure and innocent, while he sat across from her tainted in blood and sins, a waiter approached their table, hands shaking with two menus in his hands.
“Good evening, I’ll be your server for the night.” The waiter says, he carefully placed the menu’s down on the table in front of him, flinching when Max shifted in his seat. “Can I start you off with a drink?”
(Y/n) scoops a spoonful ice cream onto her spoon, chocolate dripped from it and back into the bowl, she leans closer and pushed it into her mouth, pulling the spoon out once the cold ice cream was in her mouth.
“Mhm.” (Y/n) hums in satisfaction, the taste bursting in her mouth. “Mh.” she lowers the spoon into the bowl as she nods her head, she swallows the ice cream and runs her tongue over her lips, cleaning them. “This is absolutely delicious, are you sure you didn’t want to get anything?” Max stared at her, he could feel a shift inside him as he watched her clean her lips and practically moan in satisfaction.
“Oh, no, I’m sure,” Max says. “I have tasted it before, everyone should taste this dessert at least once in their life.” (Y/n) nods her head as she pushed the spoon into the ice cream. “Would you mind if I take you the edge of town?” She lifts the spoon ice cream along with her gaze. “The view at night is absolutely beautiful.”
“Oh, you’ve won me over,” (Y/n) says in a playful tone. “I love beautiful views.” Max shifts his gaze, looking past her at Pierre and Alex as they sat near the stairs, keeping guard. “Can you read minds?” Max shifts his gaze back onto her.
“I can’t reveal my secret, you might tell somebody and I could get locked up and experimented on.” Max jokingly says causing her to softly giggle, she moves a hand in front of her mouth as she did.
I feel like writing some new Wayhaven Fan Fiction … I have some stories I’ve yet to post but in the meantime if anyone has a head cannon or prompt for Unit Bravo (or other characters, maybe?) they’d like me to write I’m all ears ☺️❤️
*Samples of my writing can be found on my Instagram … same handle @ gnomeandostrich or you can scroll my feed to find the Mason & Nate prompt ✍️❤️
*I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to do all prompt requests👉👈
Also found a really good, harrowing fic about the guys Yami Bakura beat up from the manga’s Battle City going after Ryou. Poor Ryou XD; Also the title is funny, and it briefly brings up a solution to the Slifer attacking dilemma I hadn’t considered–convincing Ryou to surrender the match.
Am I the only one who doesn’t write fanfics about real people? Especially ones where the REAL person is featured as a bully, rapist, stripper, ect. Imagine having people write smut about you? I would feel so awkward and imagine if the person read the smut about themselves that others wrote. So, is it just me who steers clear from real people when writing a fanfic?
One thing I noticed about my writing lately is that it all seems really focused on what is happening, with nothing about what the characters think. I kind of feel stuck because of it.
I stopped writing for several years after high school, but I looked at the fics I wrote back then. They weren’t as bad as I thought, and I liked that they all went into way more detail about what the characters thought and felt. So I think that’s one of the things I’m really lacking now.
The thing is, I’m autistic and have a lot of trouble imagining how a character would think or feel in a way that makes sense. Sometimes I still have trouble understanding a character’s personality even after I’ve been in the fandom for ages. Characterization is subjective too, so it gets more confusing when I read other people’s fics.
I think I found it easier back then, because the characters in the shows I were watching were simpler archetypes, if that makes sense.
Keys jingled above his face like an alarm clock begging for attention. Except, this was Alex, not an alarm clock and sunrise was still hours away.
A quiet grumble escaped his lips as he rubbed his tired eyes. He squinted beside him, gazing at the time on his actual alarm clock showing 12:36 AM. He shifted up against the headboard, letting his eyes adjust to the dimly lit room.
Alex knelt eagerly beside him on the bed, eyes wide, chewing on the corner of her lip, the car keys still rattling in her hand.
“What is it this time?”
“Taco Truck tacos.”
His eyes closed again, his head falling in his palm. He laughed to himself, “I never should have left the keys beside the bed.”
“Why? I think it’s a great plan.” Alex pulled the covers off of him, letting the cool night air wash over his toned chest. She paused to enjoy the view only for a moment, but that wasn’t what she was craving right now. She reached over him grabbing his wallet from the end table, where his keys had previously been. “With the essentials right here, we’re so much closer to leaving.”
He captured her face, cradling it tenderly between his hands. His dark brown eyes settled on her face, tracing over her every feature.
A subtle smile tugged at his lips. “Nothing. I just wanted to look at you.”
She felt a rush of warmth flood to her cheeks at his words, leaving a red hue in its wake. His name slipped from her lips in a quiet exhale. “Thomas.”
He pulled her closer, kissing her forehead before tossing his feet over the side of the bed and getting up. He quickly threw on the pants and sweater he had waiting. With the first few cravings, he had attempted to get fully dressed in a manner fitting of his typically high standards. However, with the cravings and late-night runs for food increasing, his need for artful fashion had steeply declined.
Alex on the other hand was more than happy to leave the house in her pajamas and slippers. Her fingers caressed her swollen stomach while she waited as patiently as she could manage. “Ready?”
Thomas nodded, extending his hand for her. “Let’s go get you those tacos.”
“What would I do without you?” Alex mused, accepting his hand. Her lips tingled as she brushed a feathery kiss across the stubble on his jaw. The soft moment ended as swiftly as it came, with Alex pulling Thomas forward, practically dragging him to his car.
Whumptober 2020 Day 21: I Don’t Feel So Well—Chronic
Pain/Hypothermia/Infection Word Count: 705 Author: Katie/Ally (aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl) Rating: T Characters: Jean Havoc Summary: Jean Havoc’s legs are healed. But there’s still things to deal
with. Notes: Because there had to be
some leftover consequence.
Jean Havoc would eternally be grateful to a few people in
his life. His parents were two of them. Not only was he grateful for his
childhood and the patience they had shown him, but also for the way that they
had taken him back in after he had lost the use of his legs and worked hard to
give him a purpose and help him heal as best he could.
He was also grateful to Roy Mustang, and all of his team,
really. They had stayed by him, had always expected for him to catch up to him
somehow. He understood why they hadn’t been in contact with him much when he
had gone back home—it was too dangerous. But he had never doubted that they
cared for him. And Mustang had made sure that he would have the chance to catch
up to him, even when it could have cost Mustang his shot at healing.
Posted Chapter 10 of a recent She-Ra and the Princesses of Power fanfic today and the ending had an enormous twist that I’ve been building towards for a while. It was super fun to write, but just as fun is seeing all the comments I’ve been getting.
‘Curse you thepudz, your betrayal of the fluff in favour of the story!’
‘Oh shit! The other shoe has fallen. This is so exciting!’
Does anyone else love getting reactions like this? What’ve been some hilariously amazing comments you’ve gotten from a twist or something similar?
Maybe I’m looking at the wrong memes but every one I find is dead.
I always liked kink memes because they acted as prompt memes most of the time. There aren’t too many places you can write a fic idea and have others fill it in.
I’ve found that most have died over time. The Disney Kink Meme on Livejournal/Dreamwidth used to get several posts a year circa 2013-2016 but has barely been active the last two years. Other memes, even for big fandoms like Pokemon or Steven Universe, are completely dead.
Been completely in my Hawkeye/Dago feels the last few weeks. I’m reworking a fic I wrote over ten years ago, but I thought I’d drop one of my favorite scenes from it that incorporates some of the dialog from the original script into my story. (I also wish there had been more scenes with Hawkeye and Dago in the film, but I digress…) Enjoy.
As the second day of my self-imposed exile drew to a close and I sat reading my breviary, there was a knock on my door and in walked the very person I had so carefully avoided, followed by Trapper John. Oh, God, help me, I thought swiftly as they seated themselves without invitation.
“How’s it going, Red?” Trapper grinned at me, all but lounging in my bunk.
I ignored him and looked to Hawkeye, mentally stamping out the sudden feeling of butterflies in my stomach as his eyes held mine. “Did you talk to Walt?” I somehow managed to ask.
“He’s parted his moorings,” Hawkeye replied nonchalantly.
I felt my stomach drop at that news but before I could speak, Trapper continued.
“We’re throwing him a Last Supper. We came to invite you.”
Last Supper? Invite me? Was this a joke? My face must have registered the shock and confusion I was feeling because Hawkeye sobered a little and explained.
“Painless plans to cross the Great Divide tonight and we need your help to straighten him out.”
“What do you want me to do?” I thought I’d made it clear there was nothing I could do.
“Put in one of your fixes.” Hawkeye told me. “Walt knows he’s loused himself with the Church but it’s part of our plan to make him think he has the keys to the kingdom, which is where you come in.”
This didn’t sit right with me. “Hawkeye, I can’t give absolution to a man who’s about to commit suicide! It’s a mortal sin!”
“What is, Dago? The intention or the act?”
He had me there. I thought for a moment before answering. “I believe it takes both…I’d have to look it up to be sure.”
Hawkeye actually laughed at that. Not like I’d told a funny joke, but just general amusement that I should be, but wasn’t, a complete authority on the matter. I felt somewhat incensed.
“Just use common sense.” He told me. “Your job is preventing sin, and the way to do that is give him your best Cross Action.”
I opened my mouth to rebuke, but Trapper cut across me.
“Or you can let him knock himself out. You personally’d be sending him to his grave.”
The guilt resurfaced.
“An eternal damnation,” Hawkeye added, intensifying my sense of responsibility in this matter. They really knew where to hit me. I was outmatched and overwhelmed. My head felt like it was spinning as I tried to assess my options.
“I don’t know…” I said, feeling as though they had backed me into a corner. I was laden with the guilt that my inaction would damn Painless’ soul, burdened by the sacred rites of my office, and beleaguered by the longing for Hawkeye to like me. “I should call the Military Vicar’s office—”
“Call whoever you gotta call,” Hawkeye said as he and Trapper stood to leave, “But we’re doing this with or without you. Think about it, Dago, you’ll be helping us save a life tonight.”
I knew I only had a second before they were gone. Neither had any idea what type of internal war they had launched within me, and I wanted to be angry with Hawkeye for putting me in such a fix. “Alright…” I sighed as they reached the door. “I’ll do it.”
I tried to deny that I had agreed to do it mostly because Hawkeye had asked me to, but it was no use. I did my best to go along with the farce, overlooking the sacrilegious implications of their treating Painless like Jesus Christ in their recreation of the Last Supper. I left as soon as I’d played my part and returned full force to my prayer, trying once again to snuff out my feelings for Hawkeye.
The more I tried not to think about, or acknowledge, Hawkeye, however, the more hyper-aware of him I became. I could practically sense his proximity almost as eerily as Radar could sense choppers approaching.