#read some fan fiction

[pendlewood]

I desperately want to interact with BG3 fan content, but it literally just came out on my console and I’ve gone this far without spoilers, I’ll be DAMNED if anything gets spoiled for me now.

[rookanisstuff]

The rookanis fan fic flavour of the evening? Domestic fluff

[orie-jai]

Alright all. Someone posted something a while ago about putting more niche jobs in fanfics. I'm still working on it, but I wanna see if there's any interest. I've seen so many teacher Steve fics, but mostly for middle or high school. So, picture this:

Steddie modern au

Rockstar!Eddie who steps away from his rocker life

Pre-K Teacher!Steve

Eddie takes custody of his little half sister after her mom dies and enrolls her at the school Steve teaches at

Eddie's sister is a weird kid, but it's not a bad thing cuz weird kids make cool adults

[mumblingsage]

The first piece of writing by Octavia Butler I ever read was "Bloodchild." Followed by her author's note which - don't fully take my word for it, because I might be misremembering, but my prominent impression is that while the reader is reeling from the alien-reproduction-body-horror, Butler seems to have found this story quite pleasant and interesting (the Wikipedia article for Bloodchild and Other Stories backs me up a bit, with some whiplash between the story's background and critics' takeaways).

Then I devoured the rest of the collection, which also has some damn good stuff in it.

Anyway, if you have never read any Octavia Butler...I think you should also begin with "Bloodchild."

[bowiestarzzz]

God I genuinely don’t get why people hate Nightheart so much. Every reason they have is they’re actually just angry at the authors not at Nightheart lol. Like you’re allowed to hate whatever character u want but I just saw a comment saying the fandom should scalp every Nightheart fan alive and it’s like woah okay. Jesus he’s just a cat dude

[shadeops21]

Rules/Recommendations for writing an Australian character/OC

(The following is just a list of things I personally feel should be included or considered if one makes a character of Australian nationality, descent or heritage. It by no means is a hard and fast ruleset, but just things that can be done to enhance a character’s flavour or add a little authenticity)

Shortened nicknames for fellow characters that follow Australian Shortening Conventions: multi-syllablic names are condensed down to one, and an -a/ah, -o, -zza, -y, or -sy is added, eg: McKenzie (or and Mc name) > Macca, Damien > Damo (Day-mo), Jeremy > Jezza.

Swearing. This is actually a common trap I’ve seen, with some Australian characters being less reserved in their language than others. This will depend on the specific background of your Aussie, as vulgarity is moreso a commonality in smaller cities and rural spaces, and less so in larger built-up cities. That said, we do tend to through the more vulgar words around with greater frequency than other cultures, with f### and c### being thrown around more freely.

Slang. Again another trap, especially with older “stereotypical” Australian slang that I personally hear more from my grandparents and older uncles and aunts and less so my own peers + 10 years. That said, some terms are still used very frequently and have no generational boundaries, including but not limited to: ute (pickup truck), bottle-o (liquor store), servo-o (service/petrol station), “the shops” (any centralised marketplace from your general stores to large malls), booze bus (roadside randomised breath testing/DUI checkpoints, some which do both alcohol and drug testing), hoon (reckless driver, typically young males in cars too powerful to handle at their skill level).

Weather tolerances. This varies based on a character’s geographical background, but you’ll find that most Australians have higher than normal levels of tolerance to extreme heat. However, those that live around the Brisbane latitude and north have decreased tolerances to cooler temperatures, decreasing the further north you go. (Personally I find myself pulling on long sleeves and hoodies after it hits 20 or cooler.)

There’s probably more here, but it’s approaching 10pm for me at time of writing, so for my Aussie followers/mutuals, please feel free to expand upon or add your own tips or recommendations to writing Australian characters in a believable fashion. Curious to see what they are!

[arek-ian]

(This headcanon lived enough in my mind, it's time to get it out to the light, regardless of how incomplete it's )

• Musicians Jwds •

It wasn’t unusual to see Juwoon in this fancy bar. What was unusual, however, was seeing him tucked away in a dark corner at the far end of the place. out of sight, away from the piano, and not playing.

It had been like this today, yesterday, and seemingly the entire past week. If one looked closely, they would notice the pallor of his face, the exhaustion in his eyes. Maybe he had been staying up too late. He looked like he was waiting; his gaze lingering on each performer who took the stage, watching to see who would sit under the lights tonight and fill the room with melody.

But his mind was elsewhere, tormenting him with guilt. Why wasn’t he up there tonight? Why couldn’t he move past just two sentences from his father? He had endured far crueler words from him before. Why hadn’t he been more careful?

Not that it would have made a difference.

Juwoon had loved music since he was young. Giving it up as he grew older was far from easy. He couldn’t just toss his dream into the nearest trash can like a crumpled piece of paper, no matter how much his father tried to convince him otherwise. He had pretended -tried to act as if he had let go- but his short-lived lie hadn’t lasted. One of the bar’s customers had taken a picture of him at the piano. Somehow, that picture had made its way to his father’s hands.

And now, here he was. Unable to touch a single key, even if he wanted to nothing good could come from his hands. He should have quit playing instruments earlier. It would have hurt less. He had ruined everything .or so he believed.

His thoughts were interrupted as two people stepped onto the stage -unusual, considering most performances were solo-. A woman and a man.

The man carried what looked like a guitar slung over his back. Juwoon guessed he was the musician tonight. Maybe the woman was his companion, or his girlfriend, or… whatever. He wasn’t particularly fond of guitars, but whatever music came tonight, he was willing to listen.

Or rather -he was willing to judge. Was he really as terrible at playing as his father had claimed?

His view from this angle wasn’t great, but it didn’t matter. As long as he could hear the music clearly, it was enough.

The lighting shifted slightly to match the stage ambiance. Juwoon raised his glass, downing the rest of his drink in one go, just as the music began. The first few notes left him dazed. Both the man and the woman were playing.

Juwoon found himself standing before he realized it, drawn toward the bartender’s counter for a better view of the musicians.

The woman had long hair and appeared young; not a teenager, but likely in her thirties. She sat elegantly in front of the piano, every bit a seasoned performer. Her silky rose-colored blouse and a skirt patterned with tiny flowers added to her presence. Her playing was just as refined.

And the man beside her… The shadows partially obscured his face, but he sat behind her, cradling his guitar, fingers effortlessly weaving into the melody. His head bounced slightly in time with the music, making his slightly curled hair fall over his forehead and neck. Something about him was captivating.

Unlike his polished partner, his clothes were casual. jeans and an olive-green shirt, the top buttons undone, revealing a hint of his throat and chest. The sleeves were rolled up slightly. It wasn’t extravagant, yet it was effortlessly striking. Juwoon realized he had been staring too long.

Perhaps that was why he didn’t immediately recognize the melody. Perhaps that was why he looked suspicious. He only realized it when the bartender slid another drink toward him with a knowing smirk.

“You like their playing?” she asked, raising an eyebrow toward the stage. Juwoon hesitated, then slowly shook his head halfheartedly.

He had to admit. the guitar playing was beautiful. But he would always prefer the violin and the piano. Still, the pianist was better than him.

And he hated admitting that.

The dancing lights flickered in sync with the most powerful part of the song, illuminating the man’s face in full.

Juwoon froze.

Hazel eyes shimmered under the glow,warm, bright, and full of life. He was older than Juwoon, likely the same age as the pianist. He played with effortless joy, hands gliding over the guitar strings as if it were second nature. Juwoon’s gaze followed his movements, then …A resemblance.

It wasn’t just similar features, it was too strong to ignore. Were they related? No… They were more than just relatives.

“They’re the Lee twins,” the bartender said, shattering Juwoon’s thoughts.

He flinched, nearly spilling his untouched drink. A slow warmth crept into his cheeks. Had he been that obvious?

He could only hope the dim lighting hid the flush on his face. Clearing his throat, he muttered, “I didn’t ask.” The bartender merely smirked. “You were staring.” Juwoon chose silence. His mind was too occupied to argue.

So they were twins.

He should’ve noticed.

Juwoon raised the cup to his lips and downed the drink in one gulp, letting the liquid burn slightly as it went down. He turned to ask the bartender something, but before he could speak, a voice interrupted him.

“Ajusshi!” she waved to the stage.

woman on stage waved toward the crowd. Juwoon blinked, realizing that the music had already stopped. Had he really been that lost in thought?

“Eonni!” she called again.

Juwoon slowly turned toward the stage, just in time to see the musicians stepping down, making their way through the gathered patrons. They greeted a few familiar faces before heading directly to the bar.

Suddenly, the air around him felt different, maybe thicker, hotter, pressing against his lungs. Seeing the guitarist up close was something else entirely. He was even more handsome than Juwoon had thought.

“Who are you calling ajusshi?” the man protested, his voice laced with amusement.

“You’re an old man, really,” his twin teased.

“So are you!” he shot back, only to receive a swift kick to the heel. He whined dramatically before settling into the chair nearest to Juwoon, who remained stiff in his seat.

“Jaeyi-ya, I didn’t know you worked at such a fancy bar. If I had, I would’ve dressed up a little.”

Juwoon had been coming here regularly, yet somehow, this was the first time he learned the bartender’s name. Jaeyi. Not that it mattered much, but for some reason, it gave him an unpleasant impression of himself.

Jaeyi raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t I tell you before?”

the twin elbowed the guitarist in the gut playfully. “Don’t listen to him. I already told him. And that’s all he comes up with? Very disappointing, oppa.”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” the man sighed. “Neither of you is saying anything nice about me. Don’t embarrass me in front of such a handsome young man.”

All eyes turned to Juwoon.

For the past several minutes, he had been pretending not to hear, not to see, not to react. But now, there was no avoiding it. he had been exposed.

Juwoon shifted awkwardly, glancing at the twins and then at Jaeyi, who had just finished serving another customer.

“Ah,” she said, as if only just remembering. “That’s Han Juwoon-ssi. The former pianist. I’ve told you about him before.”

Juwoon felt a flicker of gratitude that she had started the conversation first, sparing him from having to introduce himself. But wait…did everyone here know his name already?

“Lee Yeoyun,” the woman said, offering a polite nod.

“Nice to meet you, Lee Yeoyun-ssi.” Juwoon returned the gesture, carefully avoiding the gaze of the man now leaning forward toward him.

“Lee Dongsik.”

Juwoon hesitated for a second before finally shaking his hand. His palm was smaller than Juwoon’s, but noticeably warmer. He could feel the heat seeping into his skin. Strangely enough, it didn’t make him uncomfortable. That fact alone unsettled him. Instantly, he pulled his hand back.

Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, long enough for Juwoon to realize he had just seen the most beautiful eyes he had ever encountered. And then Dongsik smiled. A slow, easy smile, the kind that made something twist deep inside Juwoon’s chest.

He could only force his eye away from him. He needed to think about something -anything- other than Dongsik’s lips. He only hoped his face wasn’t betraying every single thought in his head.

[myimaginationplain]

I need help tracking down (yet another!) fan fic: It's a pretty simple oneshot, involving Martha Kent stumbling on a gay magazine that (a teenaged) Clark secretly had in his possession Basically, Martha realizes that Clark likes guys, & she confronts him about it. Pa Kent is brought in on it later, too.

Something I really really liked about this fic is that the Kents aren't angels. They're believably, realistically homophobic/biphobic, yet trying to be kind about it. Especially Pa.

I think it might've specifically been a Smallville fic? But I'm not certain. I can't find it no matter how I configure the tags on AO3 :( .

[valewritessss]

What are some fanfiction pet peeves or icks?

I specifically had percabeth in mind but other ships or fandoms is fine too

[penn-dragon]

Hey, on the topic of my own fic writing, I’ve got a question for my followers/fic readers.

I have a tendency to never post any of my writing, because my various unmedicated (I’m working on it) neurodivergences and mental illnesses make it very hard for me to ever finish pieces, and I feel really bad about starting a fic that someone could be really into and then potentially never finishing it when my brain suddenly decides I’m not allowed to write any more of it. So a long time ago I made it a rule for myself that I never post anything until it’s 100% finished, even if I have like multiple chapter that are perfectly ready to be published. Which ultimately leads to me never posting anything and sitting on a hoard of writing that only myself and select friends ever see.

So my question is, it more upsetting to read part of a story that might never get finished? Or to know that there’s writing out there that you don’t get to read just because it’s not finished?

[crownedwille]

Are there still Crown Prince!Wilhelm stans out there despite S3 turning it into the number one problem? Please report, we need to unite and no, that doesn't mean that I don't support Wille's mental health and happiness and that I love the monarchy, some people out there must get it

[yansurnummu]

do u ever have a fic idea and ur like. oh god I am not well-versed enough in any of this to execute this even remotely well

[non-un-topo]

I'm at the point in this fic where it's almost too sad and intense to the degree that it's unbearable/unreadable. I mean, I'm trying to write a story that leads up to the first crusade, so it's not going to be a happy story. But still, I'm at this point where I just have to write it anyway and throw each chapter to the wind because there's no editing the plot at this point, and I really wouldn't want to change it or sugarcoat it.

[juliets-roller-derby-awesomeness]

does anyone have psych fic recommendations without spoilers? i want to read some so bad but i really really don't want to spoil myself because im loving watching the show for the first time

im at the beginning of season six right now, and part of me just wants to rush through these last episodes so i can start being a part of the fandom and watching the blooper compilations and video essays, but part of me just wants to go slowly and enjoy the moments

so like, even if it's like " this one is really good but you need to watch 6x14 so you don't get spoiled" it'd be something i can enjoy sooner than just at the end of the series

and ofc if you have stuff for after season 8 too im all ears but please please please tell me it's for after because i really don't want to be spoiled

[air--so--sweet]

Read this post by @buddiex911 and ended up writing whatever this is in my notes app. In case it's doesn't come across it's not that Eddie's just unbelievably oblivious, he's just in that place where he's on the cusp of realising something that his brain has tried to hide from him for a long time and the feelings related to that are coming to the surface, but the reason for those feelings is still hidden (me projecting my own experiences onto my blorbos? Never!) Will I spin this into something longer so we get the actual feelings realisation and not just a pile of introspection and angst? Maybe. My track record would suggest otherwise but I've been writing more in general of late so you never know...

He hasnt been sleeping lately. Isn't able to. It's not like when worked at dispatch. When he lay awake at night staring at the ceiling while the dissatisfaction with his life ate away at him, at his carefully crafted veneer, exposing all the pain and hurt and trauma that he had claimed to have brushed off, that he had instead buried deep inside himself and pretended wasnt there.

It's different this time because Eddie actually understands his emotions now. Allows himself to actually feel his emotions now. And what he feels is sad. Incredibly, desperately and overwhelmingly sad. He just doesn't know why. He has Chris back, not only back in his life, but back under the same roof as him. That roof is in El Paso, but rebuilding his relationship with his son is worth the sacrifice of his life in LA. He misses it, and he talks about missing it a lot in therapy, talks about allowing himself to grieve that life. That's not why can't he can't sleep though. It isn't what's keeping him awake at night. Eddie can't sleep because when he lies alone in the dark, when Chris is asleep and the house is silent, he feels like something is missing, something vital. He just doesn't know what. Crying doesn't come easily for Eddie. Even on the rare occasion when he wants to he normally can't. He suppressed his tears so many times his body thinks that's what it's supposed to do. He can only think of one time before this when he really, fully cried as an an adult and that had felt more like he had no choice, like pressure had been building inside him for so long he had to release it somehow or Eddie himself would combust. Even then he had released most of that pressure by taking a baseball bat to everything in his bedroom. Now though his chest aches so profoundly and overwhelmingly with sadness and loss that it feels like there is nothing he can do but cry. He is so overcome that all he can do is sit out on the porch, so Christopher won't overhear him, and let himself shake with the force of his sobbing, without knowing why. How did he lose something that was so fundamental in his life that he feels like part of himself is missing and not know what it is that he's lost? How was he so unaware of what it meant to him that he didn't even register that it would be a loss until after it had already happened? At some point he made a terrible mistake, but he doesn't know what it was and so he can't make it right. There is nothing he can do but sit in the cool night air and cry until his head throbs, and his eyes sting and his throat feels raw. And still his chest aches. When he finally passes out from exhaustion he dreams the same dream he does every night. He won't remember it in morning beyond a vague sense of dread. Still unable to face it. He dreams that it's the day he left LA. He gets in his truck and pulls out from the curb while Buck stands in the rain and waves as he drives away. Eddie watches him in his rearview mirror becoming smaller and smaller as he gets further and further away. Watches until he's just a speck in the distance. Watches until he can't see him at all anymore. Watches until he's gone from Eddie's life. His entire body screams at him to stop, to turn around, to go back, this is a mistake, he's making a mistake, he needs to stop this right now! And he tries to, tries to slam on the brake, to wrench the wheel, to do something, why isn't he doing anything?! But it's just a memory. This has already happened so he can't can't change anything. All he can do is watch it play out the way it did that day. Watch as he keeps on driving, unaware that he's breaking his heart in the process.

[nevvaraven]

how much of my pay do you think they’ll dock if i take a nap at my desk rn