#writing fanfic

[ivediedmorethan20times]

Fanfiction writers- reblog this if you've ever been writing a fic and pause just to ask yourself what you're doing with your life😭

[cobaltaugustao3]

My constant struggle when writing PWP

[heywriters]

pls write oc x canon character fiction I don't understand how that's cringe or why cringe is even a word we've affixed to fanfic in the first place

also sometimes the canon character needs a perfect partner written for them bc canon refuses to so yes write away

[skyrim-forever]

idk if this has been done but

[ervotica]

you’re an angel, i’m a dog — a.donaldson

pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not beta’d (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl

a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?🫢) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox 📥 <3

older!art is fucking obsessed with you— you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.

you’re forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.

tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesn’t care — you’ve made art better at tennis.

his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, he’s more relaxed.

you’re what’s been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.

an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.

he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.

when tashi asks you to join art’s team officially, you almost keel over.

“look, i don’t care that he’s fucking you… or that he’s in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.” she says. you’re quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.

“he’s in love with me?”

she scoffs. “you’ve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time you’re in the same room as him.” she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.

“you two can have your fun— but he has to win this year.”

art’s perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.

fucking smitten.

tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.

“go on.”

he opens his arms in greeting and you’re quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.

“love you.” he murmurs into your skin.

“love you more.”

he could cry; he doesn’t remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. you’re obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.

at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.

he wins.

how could he not with his pretty girl watching?

and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

so, yeah. maybe this life isn’t so bad, after all.

[iridescentmemoria]

[winksasleeplesseye]

writing, in theory: fun

writing, in practice: [unintelligible noises] [sobs] [maniacal laughter] [screams]

[azrielgreen]

I think a lot of what makes fanfiction so magical is writers taking the time to explore tiny elements that were imagined into existence in the source material and then abandoned. It's the deep dive into that t-shirt, the forgotten gift, the nickname, the spare key, the anger they swallowed down, the trauma they supressed, the love they denied, the story that wasn't mainstream enough to make it. It's the little things getting their moment to shine and I fucking love that and I will fight for it always.

[athena-theunicorn]

Fanfic authors love comments! We don't care how long it is! We don't care if its just nonsense! We don't care if its an in depth review or a single word! We love engagement! We love fanarts! We love that our work inspires you! We love to see what you create through our works! We love you recommending our stuff! We love kudos! We love votes! We love bookmarks! We love subs! We love you, and I don't think you know how much you truly mean to us! We would move mountains for you!

[undercoverpena]

one of my favourite things about writing fanfic is that one day you post something and it might get seen by a few people—but you never know if it’s made their day. but YOU liked what you did, so you do it again. and maybe you share again, and again. and then one day, out of the blue, someone pays you a compliment about your writing. maybe it’s that it’s good, that it matters, or even that they enjoyed what you did. and then you feel seen and like a firework has gone off in your chest. but what is more amazing, is that you get to give others that feeling when you reblog their work or their art or their moodboards or their gifs, and then you’re part of this network of people with fireworks going off in their chests and smiles on their faces.

[deancaskiss]

to all the fic writers out there- whether you get 5 notes or 500 notes, 1 kudo or 1k kudos, no comments or 20 comments- please know how appreciated and amazing you are! fandoms are forever grateful for the continued stories and adventures, and none of that would be possible without you. thank you fic writers, we love you!

[atlas-affogato]

Me forcing characters to communicate and talk about their issues

[occasional-musings]

After voting, do you mind reblogging so the sample size could increase as well? Thank you so much.

[missviviii]

a/n: shsusbsihsw i can’t— this idea has been plaguing my mind 😭

.

“A Duel For Your Hand.”

warning(s): swearing

summary: mizu knew you ever since she was a child. you two were friends, and she grew feelings for you. one day, you had to move. until one day, you saw her again, and complained to her about how your father was marrying you off to some noble.

mizu x fem!childhood crush!reader

——————————————————————————

Long ago, when you were just a young lady, you befriended a child just your age. An outcast, but you still talked to her. Your father was a swordsman, and one that has received a blade from Master Eiji. Your father respected Eiji, often times still visiting the old man for memories and to train with him.

You were never really close to your father, but you were close to Eiji. Often times, when your father was away for business, you’d be staying with Eiji and helping alongside him here and there.

One day, you ran all the way to Master Eiji’s place to show him something cool that your father had given you. You opened the door, only to find another child around your age, a little bit shorter, holding large iron tongs while Eiji was doing his thing.

“Master Eiji, guess what my papa got me!—“ You looked over at the other child, who was staring at you very closely and almost surprised. What’s a pretty, young lady like you doing here? You were dressed nice and seemed to be far too delicate to be around sharp blades.

Eiji held up his finger, then motioned for the child to hand him the tongs. “I see you have ran all the way from your home to show me…let me guess, another hair pin?” You eagerly nodded, running over to his side and squealing about the gift your father had given you after he had returned home from whatever business he had.

“So..who are you?” You curiously asked as you turned around to face the child, who was still looking at you in awe. You noticed her blue eyes, which seemed to be so clear and mesmerizing. They were like the color of the water—so blue and pretty.. Noticing that she was staring, she cleared her throat.

“M-Mizu. Uh, I’m just staying here..” Mizu said as she scratched the back of her neck. Oh god, was she falling for you already? Well, why wouldn’t anyone—you’re so pretty and you look like an angel in her eyes.

Days turned into months. Then months turned into years. Each time that you could go down to Master Eiji’s place, you’d always be a ball of sunshine with something to talk about. Whether if it’s some hair pin your father gave to you, or a new skill you learned, you’d always talk about it to Mizu. That was until you had to move away.

Here you are, mumbling and grumbling in the cold weather while stomping your feet in the snow. Now you were a grown woman, and one that was forced to learn all the arts of being a ‘perfect wife’. You threw the charms in your hair and the hairpins to the ground, frustrated that your father had set you up with a dumb, old nobleman. You had to excuse yourself from the room and immediately ran outside to attempt to calm yourself.

“Damn, angry much?” A voice spoke out from behind you. You turned around, your first instinct was to throw one of your hairpins at the person. But they caught it with two fingers, just inches away from their eyes behind those tinted glasses. The person smirked, pulling down the tinted glasses to reveal their blue eyes. “My god, is this the treatment I get when I finally find you again?”

That voice. It was Mizu! Absolutely delighted, you immediately gasped and ran over to her, immediately tackling her into the snow while hugging her tightly. She chuckled, hand on your back while you wrapped your arms around her waist while wailing. “I missed you so much! Oh my god, you can’t believe the bullshit my father is putting me through!” Mizu only smiled, sitting up against a tree while you sat in front of her, complaining and wailing about how your father’s trying to marry you off to some man! That part made her a tad bit pissed off. A beautiful woman like yourself being married off to someone certainly not worth your time? Fuck no. Is she going to duel this guy to perhaps steal you away instead? Yep.

“Seems like you want out of this, right?” She said after you finally stopped complaining, now just curled up beside her and leaning against her arm. You nodded immediately. You now just noticed she has grown. You used to be taller, but now she’s the taller one! And my god are her hands—wait, are you growing feelings again? “I want to see this man. I’m going to kill him, you’re not marrying some snobby asshole today.”

Much to your annoyance, Mizu had fought her way through your guards and marched on into the estate with ease. You followed after her, trying to get the guards to stand down but they won’t and Mizu ends up knocking a few of them off. More mess for the cleaners to deal with. Until she kicks down the door to the room your father and that suitor was in. “My god, this is the guy? You couldn’t even find a suitable man for your daughter?” Mizu groaned, rubbing her temples in annoyance before she pointed her blade at the guy. “I want to duel you. For her hand, of course. Don’t worry, your loss will be swift and it won’t hurt all that much considering how you have no real talent.”

“You? Some beggar boy against me? Princess, do you have any idea how stupid you are?!” The man yelled, standing up and kicking over the table. Your father glared at you, also yelling at you how unladylike it is so choose white trash over a real man.

Ah, that ticked Mizu off, and you already had a feeling this guy was about to get his ass whooped.

Nothing better than to sit on a rock in your backyard, watching in amusement how your drunk, clearly reeking of alcohol and a snobbish piece of trash of a suitor was holding a sword against Mizu. Mizu stood there, circling the man carefully while her blade was pointed right at him, waiting for him to strike.

One, two, three You counted down, and Mizu strikes just as you hit three. You watched very intently, leaning forward as Mizu absolutely decimated that poor man. “Beat his ass!” You loudly yelled to cheer on Mizu, in which you received a slap on the back of your head by your father, who wasn’t at all happy. Mizu glanced over at you and smirked, determined to win your hand in marriage.

“Got you,” Mizu casually said as she swung her leg out and tripped the man, making him fall face first into the snow while the tip of her blade rests right beside his head. He groaned in pain as his body collided into the snow and grunted, yelling about how Mizu was no man, but a monster from hell.

“You did it! I mean, of course you did!” You loudly shouted as you ran over to her side, pulling her into a big hug while she wrapped one arm around your waist. You looked up at her, finding a small smile on her lips before she kissed your forehead.

“You’re mine now, Princess.”

——————————————————————————

a/n: sishwjsibesjhsbs

[thefirstpotatoe]

I have a theory So i keep seeing fanfiction writers say people commenting on their works gives them such a dopamine rush that it spurs them to keep writing.

By that logic, if i were to comment on a fanfic that hasn’t been updated in over a decade, could i commit a feat of real life necromancy and revive a fic back from the dead or am i just delirious on copium?

[iridescentmemoria]