#post: fanfic

[wiltf]

dinner was late tonight.

taash really didn’t give a shit, if they were being honest. but it was worth making a comment or two and watching bellara puff up in a bundle of emotions. davrin joined in, which leant to the effect of watching their resident expert on all things weird blow a casket before realising.

all of which had become something of a norm. except of course, it was sometimes filtered in with well,

okay, brooding, yes. taash expected the brooding, particularly antivan flavoured brooding, while sometimes being served something that always gets a joke or two about being poisoned. if only because it almost seems to offend the brooder, antivan flavoured, because why would he waste good food like that?

yet tonight, dinner being late, where taash must remind bellara, again, they really didn’t give a fuck if it was late or not served at all (come on, bellara, please? hello!), taash can only. stare. really. because the brooder was at one end of the table, and rook was at the other, deep in a conversation with neve.

one that sounded vaguely snobbish, so taash could only assume it was primarily happening in tevene. or orlesian, with the way some words got a bit punched. rook was holding her fork too tight, scowling so hard that taash expected her to spontaneously combust — taash really wanted to comment that rubbing the eyebrows that hard together could seriously start a fire, but.

this was one of the times taash let it rest. well, not really, not at all, because lucanis was starting to stink of brood and ill-conceived feelings (yes, ill-conceived feelings. taash heard the book club use the phrase the previous week, it's stuck in their head).

it was kind of funny, staring at lucanis, and spite was actually quiet. or pissed off. and taash could only really remember the kind of gossip that lace had shared following their weekly meeting, about lucanis and romance novels and something that sounded like lucanis asking for tips.

because it was fucking hilarious, to stare down the other end of the table, where rook and neve were butting heads. hand-waving and getting louder, swearing within earshot of manfred, while neve could only roll her eyes in a way that would have a lesser person cry.

“you’re an idiot, priscilla.”

rook calls neve something that sounds vaguely like. well, taash shan’t repeat such a phrase in the presence of manfred, but it only serves to have neve laugh and look pointedly across the table at.

lucanis?

taash isn’t the only one noticing now, but definitely had long left their subtlety behind in favour of being enraptured by this. whilst emmrich and davrin try to keep conversation going, in a way that only they could, bellara had given up. so had lace. just eyes moving between rook and lucanis, and dinner was late.

dinner. was. late.

“did you two fuck?”

rook chokes on her wine, and taash would not be surprised if spite was the one managing to keep lucanis upright. saving the man from sliding down in his chair.

“no!” they say at the same time.

snap of fingers, and taash can’t stop the next few words. “did spite cockblock you?”

“taash, stop.” / “no, no. no. no.”

a pause. “then what happened? you both stink.”

sometimes, taash remembered the way their mother would sigh over speaking before thinking. always trying to get taash to measure their words, to treat each conversation like a battle, where it was important to assess and strike. this was not one of those times, yet it was definitely like getting a win over rook, with the way she blushes a deep red, and no longer looks at taash.

well, if no one else was going to pry the awkwardness out of the room, taash was going to do it. besides, they knew that they had positively enraptured this end of the table, sans lucanis, from the way davrin was wearing a shit-eating grin and partway to saying something too.

taash stands, looking between the two, who both looks in different states of the same feelings.

“did we cockblock you—by calling for dinner, i mean?”

rook is the first to groan and seemingly turn to liquid, sliding down in her chair until a sound was made, as if she hit the floor.

“there’s your answer,” neve says, returning to eating her dinner, idly picking off of rook’s plate, while.

well, lucanis had bowed out, plate cleared, chair tucked in neatly. pantry door open, so taash didn’t see a need to drag him out to answer for the both of them. this was better than anything they had witnessed with their eyes so far. better than all the steamy scenes lace liked to read while taash was training.

this was so fucking funny, that the laughter from all around the table fills the room, until a hand shoots up from where rook had disappeared to. flipping all of them off, before flopping back to where she had resigned herself to possibly die.

by whatever the hell any of them believed in, taash had never found something as funny as this.

[snowstories]

My biggest tip for fanfic writers is this: if you get a character's mannerisms and speech pattern down, you can make them do pretty much whatever you want and it'll feel in character.

Logic: Characters, just like real people, are mallable. There is typically very little that's so truly, heinously out of character that you absolutely cannot make it work under any circumstance. In addition, most fans are also willing to accept characterization stretches if it makes the fic work. Yeah, we all know the villain and the hero wouldn't cuddle for warmth in canon. But if they did do that, how would they do it?

What counts is often not so much 'would the character do this?' and more 'if the character did do this, how would they do it?' If you get 'how' part right, your readers will probably be willing to buy the rest, because it will still feel like their favourite character. But if it doesn't feel like the character anymore, why are they even reading the fic?

Worry less about whether a character would do something, and more about how they'd sound while doing it.

[smallestflowtree]

PSA for fanfic writers

[queer-here-and-in-fear]

BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!

but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?

genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.

LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.

[madaqueue]

18+ MDNI - f!reader (nasty freak boy who cums too early...i love him)

virgin!satoru who thinks he’s going to die. genuinely, he thinks his heart is about to explode out of his chest and his last memory will be the way you stare down at him with those lust-blown eyes and that awe-struck smile. why else would he be shaking like this, covered in a layer of sweat and lightheaded to the point his vision is swirling?

“are you ready, satoru?” is the only thing he can make out above the ringing in his ears - how can he tell you he only has a few moments to live when your legs are spread like this and he’s so hard it fucking hurts?

virgin!satoru who is the farthest fucking thing from ‘ready’ but he’d rather die than disappoint you, so he’s at least got to try.

with an unsteady hand he swipes the tip of his cock up and down your slit, watching the way the light sparkles with how wet you are, for him.

“you can put it in, baby,” and he fucking groans, he can barely look at you when you talk to him like that, all syrupy sweet and thick and dripping.

virgin!satoru who finally, finally, pushes himself past your entrance. his eyes are locked on the way you swallow his length, the way he’s so hot he can’t breathe, can’t get enough air in because it all smells like you.

virgin!satoru who cums before he even bottoms out. he’s trembling and whining and it only gets worse when your hands find his shoulders and pull him into you.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, fuck-”

“it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s so fucking warm, and he’s grateful he can’t see the smile on your face because he thinks it might actually make his heart stop.

virgin!satoru who straightens his back, slowly pulls his cock out of you and watches in awe as his cum leaks down your thighs, who can’t stop himself from smearing it through your folds with his thumb, who doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches as he does.

virgin!satoru who’s already hard again, who no longer cares if he’s dying because this must be heaven, who stares back at you with wild, unfocused eyes as he says, “i think…i think i’m ready now.”

a/n: i think i blacked out from lust writing this

[neo--queen--serenity]

the man with a plan

[justaleafinthewind]

If any one of my posts is to break containment, make it this one.

Before January 2025, download your favorite fics, especially those with smut or queer content.

If Project 2025 goes into effect (which it very likely will now that we have three red branches of government in the US), they may attempt to restrict the use/sharing of media on sites like ao3.

This particularly applies to fics with smut or any type of queer content, because the official Project 2025 document states, "Pornography, manifested today in the omnipresent propagation of transgender ideology and sexualization of children, for instance... has no claim to First Amendment protection... Pornography should be outlawed."

Now, I don't expect ao3 to disappear or go anywhere without a fight, but it's best to be on the safe side these days.

To download your favorite fics:

Go to archiveofourown.org and open the fic you want to download.

At the top right corner, to the right of the 'subscribe' button, is a button that says 'download'. Click it.

A drop-down menu will give you the option to choose the format of your download. Choose your preferred format (.epub and .pdf are my personal favorites -- .epub lets you open a fic in the apple books app and .pdf is compatible with like every device and program out there).

When you click the button for your preferred format, a pop-up window appears confirming your choices. The title of the document will default to the title of the fic, so be aware of that and consider changing conspicuous titles to something ignorable, especially if you share the computer.

You're done! Now do this with all your favorite fics!

Stay safe out there, your favorite characters are rooting for you <3

[emberfaye]

You know what?

I love you, fics that take months to update. I click on the newest chapter and have no memory of this place and get to go back some chapters and rediscover how much i love everything about this story.

I love you, fics that take years to update. I think of you fondly, and know your names, go search for you and see an update from this year and scream, diving in uncaring of any missed details (i will finish the update and read you in reverse because this is a treat you have bestowed)

I love you, fics that probably will never update again. Thank you for being a roman empire for my mind, thank you for teaching me about the ephemeral fandom experience, for inspiring a thousand million what if-s, for being a comfort read and a nostalgia read and a reread.

I love you fic writers, who jump into projects and stories with enthusiasm. I love you when you succeed in pumping out those chapters and that love doesn't go away when you stop.

I love you fic writers who post and then get in your own head and never feel confident enough to update, whether it's at all or whether it's just that one story.

I love you fic writers, who have a fandom or media hurt you to the point of abandoning or having a hard time with their WIPs.

I love you fic writers, who lose interest or have life changes or illness or bad memory. Thank you for being part of the fandom, a core part of the fandom. Thank you for the time spent in the fandom.

I love you, fic writers who try out something new and then stop. You're so valid.

I love you, WIP fics that may or may not ever get finished. Thank you for brightening my day in the way only you could have.

[redactedrem]

Headcanon where after so many arguments between the batkids and Bruce over his paranoia and complete disregard for his kids privacy, the entire family had compromised with (in the healthiest way possible) downloading life360 on their phones and that's how they all keep track of each other.

Now Bruce knew that this is mostly for his benefit and is supposed to be a healthy alternative for his unhealthy paranoia and helicopter parenting, but what he wasn't expecting was for his kids to start keeping track of him.

He's putting gas in his car and Dick calls him because apparently Dick has been watching him drive around on the app? And Bruce is currently at a gas station thats right around the corner from a Taco Bell and now Dick wants him to get food for everyone since he's already there.

He's driving home from a meeting and Steph calls him because her and Duke were shopping in the area and wants to know if he can pick them up, when he asks how she knew he was on the same street, he gets a "Oh I just like to stalk everyone on the app for funsies." as an answer.

Jason calls him and he can barely get out a hello before Jason cuts him off, "Bruce why the fuck is your phone battery on 5%, charge your damn phone" which completely stuns him because why does he know that. He clears his throat before answering. "Jason, what?"

"Everyone can see each others phone batteries on '360, now charge your phone." Is all he gets before Jason hangs up on him.

[punksalmon]

"it's the date night cologne," buck repeats

[lapetitepatisserie]

cod × fem!reader ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

The familiar sound of keys in the door alerted you to your husband’s return.

“My love?” he called, looking for you, boots making heavy footsteps as he made his way towards you and your child. His eyes soften once they land on you and your baby girl.

“How’s my princess?” he drawls, voice deep with exhaustion from work.

You look down at the child sitting in your lap, occupied with trying to fit a chubby foot into her mouth. A steady finger reaches underneath your chin, lifting it to meet his warm, intense gaze.

“I’m talking about this one.”

[wiltf]

“you can cook.”

something in lucanis’ tone suggests that his statement should have ended as a question, but perhaps the tilt of his head finished that off first. so, rook snorts in response, shaking her head as she moves one pot to another burner, foot kicking up the door to the oven as she went.

“only when i feel like it.”

plate flipped upside down, as if it were a lid, and the open bag of rice is left unattended to as rook starts to melt butter in a completely different pot.

lucanis dares to only step over the threshold, in only so that he could inch the bag of rice closer to himself. quick hands, as he seals it, now safely tucked back under the counter on the opposite wall.

somewhat amusing, how they all seemed to have the same approach to the kitchen. arguably, bellara was more draconic in not allowing anyone else in the hall itself while she cooked, but rook definitely was staring at him out the corner of her eye.

“what are you making?”

butter stirred, sugar measured from her heart. thankfully, it seemed that lucanis had the freedom to make a face at rook’s back, with how much sugar was poured in. something about the sweets in tevinter hurt his teeth.

“uh… that’s just some vine leaves,” spoon whipped up and waving toward the pot and its upside-down-plate-for-a-lid, "left out the mince meat—mostly because i forgot to buy some—and then i’m throwing some…shit!”

rook pulls the pot she had been stirring in quickly off the flame, moving to another. no stumbles that suggested panic, not a single one in sight. lucanis couldn't remember when he started to lean against the wall, arms folded over his chest, just watching. but there he was, as rook swore up and down in both common and tevene.

“fucking oranges, where did i—oh, here.”

already sliced, pitted, and skinned. thrown into the butter-and-sugar concoction with a small jug of milk and chocolate. and whatever else rook just sniffed, before making a face that suggested it was fine.

and then rook proceeded to pour the remainders of whatever else was lying around on top of the peels, turning the bright orange into a particularly unsavoury brown. more chocolate.

“do you need a hand?”

“no, no, it’s fine. just.. stand there, keep standing there—i think this is chocolate from markham, not carastes—fucker in the market sold me the wrong shit—swear to the maker—“

at some point, lucanis had noted that he had been joined by a couple of curious onlookers. almost all of them enraptured in the way that the dishes were piling up, and he had yet to see what she was going to pull out the oven.

“rook can cook.” emmrich almost sounded impressed, were it not for the way he frowned at the goop of what were orange peels.

“so she says.”

“i can hear you.

“and you probably should refer it more to experimenting,” a huff, as she turns and separates the goopy piles of chocolate, some that were peel and others that were once orange flesh, on a rack. “or just throwing stuff together.”

emmrich is braver than lucanis by a long shot, as he steps completely into the kitchen, tea towel in hand as he lifted the plate to peer in. “and what do you call some of these?”

“dolma. or sarma. or dolmades. whatever, one of my grandmothers is probably going to curse me now. though, i’m cursed anyway, these are also the liar variant—no meat.”

if there’s a conversation that follows, lucanis only pays it half a mind. rook seems to catch the edge of a bowl that once contained chocolate with her thumb, a normal move, for what follows was for her to then run her tongue over the skin there. all while nodding to emmrich’s spectacular vocabulary, maybe, possibly. lucanis doesn’t know.

somewhere between the bowl and her now picking up a spoon, he felt the hairs on his arms stand on end.

rook seems to notice him, as whatever panic she had between the pots had settled, her leaning against a bench. spoon in hand. “you… wanna lick it?”

extended towards him, chocolatey end his way, and he can see that some of it must have still been warm enough to run down the shaft, tip of her fingers.

“the spoon?” waved now, in his vision. possibly. not really.

“ah, no, thank you.”

lucanis does not recall when he took the opportunity to leave, but it was somewhere between the shrug and the spoon ending back in the bowl, and rook holding one of the chocolate oranges above her head. tilted back, mouth open. dropping it in.

maybe she says what the name of the sweet is (poison stings, he mind supplies, something he had seen in vyrantium, a lifetime ago), but spite had begun to smell and think and feel. and well. fresh air was what he needed, even if meant subjecting himself to a knowing smile later.

once the door out had closed, does emmrich sigh deeply, particularly when he notes the way rook seems rather pleased.

“you don’t need to tease the poor man so much.”

she grins then, sliding a finger through the rest of the chocolate on the spoon. “he needs to stop making it so easy, though.” eyes glitter with no mirth, not even a touch, which had emmrich sigh.

only after he popped one of the poison stings in his mouth, chewing through. “priscilla, you may give lucanis a heart attack before we get anywhere near ghilan’nain.”

“oh, pish-posh. his heart is fine.” singsong, roll of the eyes. “but fine, fine. i doubt i’m going to get a chance for anything else, so forgive me this one transgression, professore volkarin.”

[orcboxer]

those first couple weeks after escaping a time loop have gotta be disorienting as all fuck. all those little cues that used to tell you what's about to happen are now triggers that cause you to brace for something that isn't coming. you have to relearn the permanence of death -- hell, you have reacquaint yourself with the entire concept of finality altogether. everything keeps changing but it never changes back and you keep having to remind yourself that this is normal. "it won't reset anymore," you echo to yourself, over and over and over, like a broken record, like you're still trapped in a loop, like someone who escaped the time loop but was doomed to bring it into the future with them

[waywardstation]

Look for anything (or anyone) that could be familiar

For part two:

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