but then again i'm a fanfic writer

bellaandtheinfinitesadness  asked:

Like idk if you do request or ideas or whatever, but an au where 2017 dan is teaching the reader (or 2009 phil), how to fuck 2009 dan. Would actually be awesome.

Sorry for the long ass wait. If you have trouble reading om mobile, open in your phone browser y’all.

Dan Howell has always had a problem with finishing things. There’s a file on his computer with an endless list of unfinished video ideas, a half-completed photo board he started about a year ago pushed under his bed, and about five songs on piano that he’s only taught himself a quarter of the way through. He’s never been great at finishing things he’s started, so it’s no surprise that he’s the same when it comes to sex.

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Malec Fanfic WIPs Appreciation Post!

Because I believe these fanfics deserve more attention for the simple reason that they are so good and so well written. And yes, these are WIPs. I know most of you don’t like it, but I really suggest to check them out. They are worth it.  Most of these are just beggining but just with the first chapter, they get you hooked.

And so the time goes … by Nylita (7/?)

He should have never returned.
He knew it was a mistake the second he set foot in the Institute.
Valentine is still at large, slaughtering Downworlders by the hour, and here he was, coming back to the very place he’d sworn to avoid.

Magnus Bane has returned after seventeen months, only to come face to face with the person he’d specifically avoided for those seventeen months in the first ten minutes of being back.

Whomever said hell didn’t exist on earth had obviously never had the chance to meet Alexander Lightwood.

Child of the Heart by @theravennest (8/?)

When Iris Rouse’s warlock-human trafficking ring was brought down and he had rescued the young warlock, Madzie, from Valentine’s clutches, Magnus was faced with a difficult choice. What to do with a girl with so much hurt and so much fear, yet with so much power at her beck and call? No one seemed fit to take her but himself and yet was he ready for such an undertaking? Was Alec? Magnus has to come to a decision soon but whatever his choice, it would affect three lives in ways he could not anticipate.

Controlled Love Story by Jacklyne (2/?)

Alec and Clary were madly in love and nothing, not even Alec’s evil Warlock ex or Clary’s overly attached former brother, could come between their love.

That is, until they realize they’ve been the main characters in a love story where Alec is painfully heterosexual and forced to love Clary.

(aka. the “why the fuck is someone writing us as love interests in a poorly written fanfic” au)

Fledge by xLyrael (5/?)

If there is one thing Magnus knows for certain, it’s that the Lightwoods are nothing but trouble. This is further cemented as fact when he opens his door one morning only to have a child shoved into his arms with blood running down his back and Maryse Lightwood of all people begging him for help.

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Fanfiction gothic
  • You wait for an update on your favorite fic. You wait a week, a month, a year. You wait forever. The author never updates.
  • You tell your friend about a fic you loved. A few days later they tell you they couldn’t find it. You look it up yourself. You can’t find it. You can’t find the author. “They must have deleted their account,” you tell yourself. You can’t remember. 
  • You have already left kudos here. :)” You have no recollection of having read this fic before. 
  • Your favorite writer starts a new fic. It gets progressively darker with every update. The last chapter is just a string of random letters and numbers. You want to ask if the writer is okay. You don’t dare to.
  • AO3 doesn’t work again. It didn’t work yesterday. It didn’t work last week. Has it ever worked? 
  • Your friend starts writing a fanfic about you. “It’s just a joke,” they tell you. You go check it out. It’s a complete work with a major character death warning. “It’s just a joke,” you remind yourself. You refuse to read the last chapter.
@IchiRukis the latino fandom needs your help

This user published a fanfic that is a plagiarism of another IR writer because she will “correct” it just because ichihime is the canon couple and the IR fanfics should’t exist. This little racist do it in the past and she atacked us again, and I’m fucking tired of her shit.

This “author” just copied fics and threatened to do the same to others, and she isn’t ashamed of it. Please, do not leave your reviews, just report her, she does not deserve your words and neither will change. We, the latino fandom, have enought of her.


anonymous asked:

for the prompt. bokuaka and wedding cake?

When Koutarou returns from the dance floor, Keiji has another plate of cake in his hands. 

“How many slices does that make?” he asks, sliding into the empty seat beside Keiji.

“Not too many,” Keiji answers, a bit defensively.

“You’re not going to whine about a stomachache later, are you?”

“No.” Keiji shoves another forkful of cake into his mouth. Some of the icing ends up on his nose. Koutarou finds it ridiculously endearing. “It’s not everyday we get to eat such good cake, Kou. I’m going to eat as much of this wedding cake as I can before Konoha comes over here and cuts me off.”

“Well, it is his wedding.“ Koutarou leans over to wipe the icing off his nose.

“Exactly,” Keiji says, turning his face to allow Koutarou a better reach. “If he gets to have his happiness, then I get to have my cake.”

“Can I have a bite?”

“Get your own.” Keiji lifts his fork towards Koutarou anyway. His green eyes slide across the room to where Konoha is slow dancing with his bride, the sappiest look on his face that if they were ten years younger, they’d be teasing the heck out of him. As it is, they only sit, watching quietly. 

Koutarou glances back at Keiji. There’s a softness in his eyes, something warm but too bittersweet to be just contentment. Koutarou looks down at the smushed cake sitting between them.

“Hey,” he says, and when Keiji swings his gaze back to meet his, Koutarou lets his lips pull into a smile. “What do you think about this flavour, for our own wedding cake?”

Keiji’s eyes widen, before he closes them briefly. When he opens them again, they’re suspiciously bright. “It’s a possibility,” he says.

He reaches out, and Koutarou does the same, until their hands are joined on the table, two silver bands symbolic in every kind of bond except on paper twinkling under the low lights of the wedding hall.

[AO3 link]

During the first week of school, after the revelation of All Might’s true form, classes felt… weird. Something about All Might felt off, besides the fact that he looked completely different. All the kids noticed it, but no one could pin point what it was.

Uraraka figured it out first.

“He doesn’t smile as often!!” She stood up and shouted in the middle of class one day, the epiphany hitting her like a strike of lightning. Aizawa glared at her from the front of the class, and she quickly apologized for interrupting his lesson. But the second she pointed it out, everyone understood.

All Might, before, was always smiling. But now, he constantly has this sullen, not quite a frown, but not a smile, look on his face. That’s what was off.

So the students hatched a plan.

They kept Izuku out of it, because they were afraid he might slip up and accidentally tell All Might what they were planning.

And so, during the next few weeks, they all (even Bakugou. Seeing All Might not be his boisterous, smiling self is just as unsettling to him, as it is for everyone else) surprised All Might with little gifts. A piece of candy here, a CD, there, and even a big fluffy sweater from at least two people. Uraraka gives him an adorable, hand stitched, tiny, pink plush bunny, with the words ‘All M’ on the front. Some send him cards, telling him how awesome they think he is. Others cut out the middle man and compliment him straight to his face (”You have really pretty eyes, All Might, sir!! I could never see them before!!” This comes from, ironically, Tooru).

With each gift, Toshinori gets more and more baffled. His class was never so affectionate towards him before. At some points, he starts to suspect that it’s out pity. But he knows certain people would never act in such a way simply out of pity (like Todoroki and Bakugou), but that leaves him even more baffled than he was before.

He asks Izuku about it, but he’s just as confused as Toshinori.

The kids, meanwhile, begin to redouble their efforts. Because, while All Might does smile sometimes when he’s given one of their gifts, he just seems confused more than anything. They need a new strategy. Sadly, no one in the class could come up with something new. And so, reluctantly, they have to break and ask Izuku for help.

Once Izuku knew exactly what they’re doing, he began to cry. And not sweet, little tears, oh no. He starts sobbing big, goofy ghibli tears. The class started freaking out, but he assured them he’s alright. He’s just really, really happy.

He suggested thanking All Might. Thanking him for little things, like “Thanks for the great lesson today, sir!!” and “Thanks for helping me today!!”

All Might does notice the change in behavior, but doesn’t comment on it. However, he does start smiling more with every bit of thanks.

He does, however, question Izuku about it when they’re alone. “Did you notice how often the kids are saying thank you to me?” he asked his young successor, during lunch. “It’s quite kind of them, but strange. Even young Bakugou said thank you to me this morning…” He mused to himself.

Besides him, Izuku froze. “I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!!” He stuttered, laughing awkwardly and looking in any direction away from his mentor. Toshinori noticed the sweat running down the teen’s face and squinted at him, playfully suspicious. “You know something, don’t you?”

“N-N-N-NO!!” Izuku denied, shaking his head rapidly from side to side, a nervous smile on his face. His lie was completely transparent to both of them. 

“My boy…” Toshinori gave him a long, teasing look.

“I-I swear!! I don’t know anything about the class’ plan to get you to smile more because they noticed you don’t smile as often anymore!! MPH!!” Izuku slapped his hands over his mouth, horrified. Clearly, what he’d said had slipped out by accident. But the damage was already done.

Toshnori froze, the words cutting right through him, like one of his own punches. His jaw dropped. The students… their strange behavior for the past few weeks suddenly made sense. They showered him with gifts, and compliments, and thanks. Even young Todoroki and Bakugou joined in on the plan, and all out of concern for him.

He knew his smile was important–it gave people hope in their darkest moments. His teacher, Nana, instilled that into him (fight to save their bodies, smile to save their hearts). But he hadn’t realized just how important it was even when he wasn’t in his powered form. He didn’t realize that his smile, his smile as just Toshinori, would have just as much importance to those around him as his smile as All Might was.

He had caused his students so much worry, because of his missing smile… and they tried so hard to bring it back. Truly, he still had a lot to learn about being a teacher.

Next to him, Izuku nervously sat, waiting for All Might’s reaction. His hands were still clamped over his mouth, Toshinori absently noticed, amused. But when Toshinori threw his head back and started laughing his heart out (perhaps a little too literally, given all the blood he spewed afterwards), Izuku’s hands unclamped from his mouth and stared at his mentor, eyes wide and his jaw dropped.

Long fingers found their way into Izuku’s hair, ruffling the dark strands to and fro. Izuku started, but soon relaxed, the gesture calming him. However, he was still just as confused as before. He looked up at All Might’s face for answers. All Might smiled down back at him, his grin beaming.

“I must be truly blessed to have a class as wonderful as this, to be so worried about their teacher’s smile.” He patted Izuku’s head once more. “Don’t worry, my boy, I won’t say anything.“

Izuku returned he smile and relaxed.

The next day, the students noticed that All Might smiled a lot more. Every time someone gave him a gift, or a compliment, or even a simple ‘thank you,’ he responded by giving them all wide, happy grins. No one asked Izuku about the sudden change, tho a few knowing glances may have been thrown his way.

It didn’t matter, tho. All Might was smiling again, and that’s all that mattered.

(so this was a simple musing post that sorta got away from me and turned into a fanfic, whoops)

Friendly Competition

Nino stops dead in his tracks as his eyes land on their kitchen table.

“Adrien. You know I love you, but there are some things I can’t handle.”  Nino shakes his head as he walks past the table where there are playing mats and two decks of brown cards set before his boyfriend and empty chair opposite him. Nino heads to the fridge instead. Adrien lets out a huff as he pushes himself to turn to face him.

“But! But you said that you’d never played duel monsters before! The only reasonable course of action was to—”

“Adrien. We’ve been over this. Just because I haven’t done something before doesn’t mean that you have to blow a lot of money just to make it happen.”

“But this is an important step of your childhood that you missed out on! Besides you bought me the whole discography of Zedd when I said that I’d never heard of him before. You have no room to talk.”

The refrigerator door slams. A can of soda in his hand, Nino sends Adrien a glare. “That man is a musical genius and I’m still insulted that you didn’t know who he was. Besides that was only two CDs. I can guarantee that they cost me less than those cards and fancy mats cost you.”

“I’ll have you know that this cost me absolutely nothing. I bought them when I was younger.” Adrien crosses his arms over his chest and matches Nino’s gaze head on. They square off for at least a few seconds before Nino heaves a sigh and slumps his shoulders in exaggerated defeat.

“Fine.” Adrien lets out a cheer as Nino collapses in the empty chair across from his boyfriend.

“This is going to be so much fun Nino! I swear to you on all of my nine lives that you will never regret this.”

“I’m pretty sure that you’re down to five at this point, but I guess there’s no reason to split hairs over it.” Nino lets out a laugh as he pops open the can and takes a sip. Setting the can down he chuckles. “You know that you’re a major dork right?”

Adrien laughs as he goes to scratch at the back of his neck. “Yeah.” He pauses to look down at the table. Nino frowns as nearly visible clouds cast a shadow of doubt on Adrien’s previously sunny face.

Nino knows that this side of Adrien is still new and vulnerable. That it wasn’t until a couple of years ago that he even admitted to liking things that weren’t considered ‘normal’ by society’s so-called standards. Things that Gabriel Agreste would certainly never have approved of if Adrien had ever been open about them.

But, no matter how Nino jokes about it, he loves this side of his boyfriend. Everything about Adrien seems to amplify when he talks about things that he loves. His hands move in grander motions. His smile widens so far that there are times that Nino wonders if his face could break. And the light in his eyes…

Nino would do anything to make it glimmer as brightly as it does in those moments.

“But, I suppose that’s why I love you.” Nino reaches across the table to ruffle blonde locks. Adrien lets out a startled yelp as he hurries to rearrange the disarray left behind by Nino’s hand.

“Love you, too,” Adrien mumbles. He attempts to act disgruntled, but the smile is far too goofy to be convincing.

And, just like that, the clouds have disappeared and it’s as if the sun as returned full force yet again. Nino’s breath is stolen a beat later. It takes almost a full minute for him to find it again, and when he does he has to clear his throat before he can speak again.

“I hope you realize that, just because I’m a beginner, it doesn’t mean that I’ll go easy on you.”

Adrien’s laugh fills the room and Nino swears that it’s the most beautiful melody that he’s ever heard. 

Having to Re-Read Your Own Fic

Cause you forgot how the story was going and need to finish the last chapter.

Originally posted by havemanymonkeys

fangirl-llena-de-insomnio-19  asked:

Hey Dad! :) Can you give me some facts about Levi and Petra (as a couple)? I want to enter the fanfic world again as a writer and I want to start with these two, I thought you could help me with the theme of inspiration x') (PD: Sorry if my english is wrong. I'm from south america and I still learning)

I think it’s wonderful that people write Fanfiction. It’s a very amazing way to express your feelings! Go for it! 💗

  • Levi has great respect for Petra and is very concerned about her
  • Petra likes to give him presents like self made chocolade and sometimes vegetables her father brought from harvest
  • Levi likes being closer to Petra than to other members of his squad, because he knows that she respects his bounderies
  • Sometimes when they’re all together at a quiet evening Levi would ask Petra to sing a song for the fallen comrades. He thinks she has a really calming voice

anonymous asked:

Heya! After a few years of posting original works online, I've slipped back into fanfic, but I'm super out of touch. I'd tried to write fanfic the way I write original stuff, and it just didn't work- I'd written something novel-length and novel-style, but looking back now it doesn't feel appropriate (and the hit count is miserable, haha!). Have you got any tips on the differences between writing original fic and fanfic, and how to jump back into the pit without embarrassing myself again?

Hi there, anon!  Thanks for your question :)

I have personal experience with this struggle, I assure you.  It seems like when a writer first transitions to original work, they feel like it’s a one-way trip – like once you’ve made the shift, you can’t go back.  But that’s purely psychological, and once you overcome it, you’ll be able to transition seamlessly between the two!

Although I’ve found that writing original fiction isn’t all that different from writing fanfiction, I’ll give you a few tips for slipping back into “fanfiction-brain”:

  • Watch (or read) the source material.  Novel-writing is all about being original, with your characters and your writing style – but fanfiction is about creating stories in the world (and in a way, the style) of the original creators.  You wouldn’t write a Captain America fanfiction in the same mindset as you wrote your high-fantasy adventure novel!  So immerse yourself in this separate world and your mindset will follow.
  • Read fanfiction in this universe.  Find some quality fanfic, with similar themes to what you’d want to write (e.g. angst, fluff, etc.).  And read it through writer’s eyes, which means paying attention to how chapters are opened and closed, how long they are, how much detail is included, and, maybe most importantly in your case, how they’re presented and marketed to readers.  Your hit problem may be more to do with your presence in the fanfiction community than anything else!
  • Re-learn the audience.  People reading original fiction are looking for new characters, universes, and conflicts to fall in love with – but fanfiction readers already love the setting and the characters.  They already know what they want, and they’re going to click away if you don’t, in some form or another, give them what they want.  So if you’re writing a complex story that’s tagged as angst, you’re going to need to put some emphasis on the angst.  If you’re writing for an audience who want feel-good fluff – no matter how much your novel-brain is saying, “This isn’t enough to fuel a story!” – you have to include some feel-good fluff.
  • Adapt to an episodic style.  Every installment of your fanfiction is going to need some sort of hook, to ensure that your readers follow up with the next chapter.  Remember that no one is paying for the whole fanfiction, so they have little reason to invest time in something that isn’t gripping their attention.  The good news: fanfiction allows us to be self-indulgent with things like angst and fluff filler, because our readers will likely enjoy it as much as we do.  So the pressure of keeping readers interested is matched with the cushion of filler!
  • And lastly, make use of your personal voice.  Fanfiction is sold by personality, just as much as story – your author’s notes, your summary, and your narrative style – so make sure to develop a stage presence.  This will make it easier to address your readers when asking for feedback, and will likely net you more followers!

That’s all I’ve got at the moment, but if you have another question, send it in and I’ll get back to you!  Thanks again, and good luck :)

If you need advice on general writing or fanfiction, you should maybe ask me!

Don’t You Forget About Me (Part Five/Five)

Originally posted by dayaholics

Peter Parker x Reader

Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five

(a/n: this was a long ride and not because of an abundant amount of parts, but because my lazy ass wouldn’t get in front of the laptop to write. But here I am now, giving you the last piece of this. Also, sorry for so many mistakes in the last one. I’m guessing I wrote that at 3:00am)

The bustle of the lunchroom was background music to the conversation you were listening in on. Your two idiot best friends were arguing and it was not about something important.

“Okay, Empire Strikes Back was good, but it was not the best Star Wars movie of all time!” Ned exclaimed, taking an angry sip of his chocolate milk. You rolled your eyes and snorted at the offended look Peter was sporting.

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Reylo Fandom Is For Fun People

So after this post, I’m gonna let this go, but honestly I just really needed to say this (and it’s mostly directed towards the people involved because I want them to know the opinions that really matter).  Being a writer is a very vulnerable headspace.  Fan fiction allows us to have fun and celebrate fandom, but it also involves facing a certain amount of fear.  You struggle with self-doubt every single time you post something and it doesn’t matter if you’re considered popular or barely a blip on the fandom radar.  Writers are constantly trying to improve, promote, and just not feel stupid for waving our hands in the air and asking people to comment or check out a story.

We work hard on this stuff.  We work, we get stressed, we wonder why we bother, and then we write anyway.  So for me, watching a writer like @ reylorobyn2011 or @shwtlee4reylo get discouraged for doing what they do just really upsets me.  Especially considering how willing they are to support other writers and give encouragement.  I appreciate them, their work, and if not for people like them and @perrydowning I know I would have been a lot more discouraged about my own ideas and efforts writing fic.  I would have still written the stories, but that’s just cause I’m stubborn and my brain implodes if I leave a story unfinished once I’ve started it.

We get enough shit in the reylo fandom from the outside for our fic, our art, metas, and even just random humor that antis want to attack.  that has been stated time and time again.  SUPPORTING EACH OTHER IS A MUST!  SUPPORT REYLO ARTISTS!  SUPPORT REYLO WRITERS!  AND JUST RISE ABOVE THE NEGATIVITY!  Don’t make things toxic.  No one will thank you for it.  In fact, they’ll probably shun you for it.  Reylo is supposed to be fun.  Stop trying to ruin that…

anonymous asked:

Hello! I'm sorry that you're going/went through a tough time with your writing, so I wanted to say that I love it so much and you're my favorite fanfic writer! I'd love to see some fluff where Bucky and Steve are playing mario kart together in the lounge. Steve is sitting on Bucky's lap and they're being all adorable when the rest of the team walk in and are "disgusted" by them (they secretly think it's the cutest). Again, I love your writing so much and I hope you have a fantastic week. 💖

N’aww, thank you! <3 

I love the idea of Steve and Bucky playing video games in their spare time, each trying to trump the other one. I also like the image of Steve drawing with his feet in Bucky’s lap and Bucky reading out loud. 

Like maybe, it’s the late afternoon, they’ve had lunch and there are no missions on. Steve is sleepy and dozing on the sofa, he’d been drawing earlier and finished a sketch of Bucky while the brunette read. 

Maybe now, Steve’s all plaint and soft, Bucky pulls him into his arms and Steve goes happily, nestled on Bucky’s lap, face tucked into Bucky’s neck. Maybe he falls asleep like that while Bucky strokes Steve’s back and kisses his temple. 

Maybe Bucky continues reading, his voice soft and gentle, sending Steve into a peaceful sleep. Steve doesn’t get enough sleep and Bucky loves to help him get into that calm head space, where he doesn’t need to be Captain America anymore. 

I love the idea of Bucky putting time aside for moments like this. For just the two of them to be together. For them to just be, them.

bornbathroomsinger  asked:


I just woke up wtf is happening?!? He looks so fucking good someone kill me right now. I need to see all the hair styles right now….except Tae’s. That better be a wig or so help me God some stylists are going to have a very disgruntled fanfic writer on their hands.

anonymous asked:

hi.. flinthamilton and 18. “I’m alive… I can tell because of the pain.” or 15. “That was a perfect example of how not to do things.” or maybe both?

“I’m alive…I can tell because of the pain.”

Oh Anon, how you slay me with this request. I’ll try to fulfill #15 as well but until then, have angsty Flinthamilton.


He had gone back out to the garden after supper while James had remained inside. He had been unusually quiet today. Thomas had not asked why. Each of them had their days, even in their newfound life together. They were still trying to balance the past with the present, with bits and pieces of the former crumbling into the latter from time to time. 

So Thomas stayed in the garden and gave James some space. Three hours later, when dusk had arrived, he returned inside. James was sitting in the rocking chair. He was slumped down, a rum decanter in one hand and a glass in the other. Thomas stilled, chest constricting.

So it was worse today.

He washed the dirt off his hands and face and pulled up a second chair across from James. James looked up at him and frowned. His eyes weren’t glassy yet so he was still mostly sober. 

“I remembered to use a glass,” he said with false enthusiasm. Thomas blinked slowly. 

“You did.”

A long minute passed quietly between them, before Thomas leaned in and grazed his lover’s sorrow-filled face with the back of his knuckles.

“What is it?”

James stared into the empty hearth beside them, brows furrowed. He spoke without looking away from it.

“Was there ever a time when you thought to yourself you knew you were alive…because of the pain? That it became so familiar a sensation, it was the only way you knew to keep going, so you could try and push past it?”

The silence that followed was deafening to Thomas. He ignored the urge to touch James again, to remove the liquor from him. There was something hiding in the question, something James wanted to acknowledge but did not know how. A whisper of a possible answer came to Thomas. 

He licked his lips and said slowly, “Yes, I’ve felt that way before. When I was still in Bethlam and even after, on the plantation. Sometimes…sometimes a person grows so accustomed to feeling a certain way that even in the light of something better, they aren’t ready to let go.”

James’s eyes moved sharply to his own, then back down the rum.

“But you can let it go,” Thomas said, with more confidence now. “Other things, better things, can become just as familiar.”

James sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The dying light filtering in through the window made his jade eyes dark with two pinpricks of light in their center. Unable to control the impulse any longer Thomas stood up and pulled lightly on James’s arm. James climbed to his feet and sat the decanter and glass aside. He fell so easily into the embrace Thomas offered and actually leaned into him, as though his own weight were too much to bear. Thomas gladly accepted some of it, pressing his cheek hard into James’s and feeling the sting of tears in his eyes.

James let out a shaky sigh as he pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled to the floor.

“Do not be,” Thomas said. “I understand.”

James’s eyes finally brightened. He gave Thomas a long, slow kiss and when they broke it James looked at him as only James could, brows drawn back and nothing but affection in his eyes and smile.

Thomas wished they did not need this understanding of the dark things between them, yet he could only be grateful that on some level he did understand, because James needed him and he needed James in a way that was new to them both. And to be needed again by James more than Thomas had ever dared to hope for.


Send me a prompt

Private School

Hey guys, I’m soooo sorry that I haven’t posted in ages. I can only blame school and crippling writer’s block. This was a request – hope you like it!

It never ceased to amaze Percy that Annabeth’s school managed to conform to every existing stereotype about private schools that he’d ever heard. The kids that went there were rich and proud of it, cruising across campus in low convertibles with vanity plates and unnecessary spoilers. They all seemed to have the same haircut, and he had a hard time telling them apart when they were all dressed in the school’s fancy uniform.

Percy couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place as he drove up in his sputtering green jeep, his own hair sticking up in several different directions. As he sat in the parking lot waiting for her to emerge from the school with the rest of the kids, he attempted to brush it down a bit. But the strands popped right back up again, as mockingly as a jack-in-the-box.

Annabeth was better at that sort of thing; she’d lick her fingers before running them through the knots, attempting to be gentle but ultimately failing. Percy hadn’t seen her in weeks, and something a lot like homesickness was toying with his stomach, spurring his fingers to tap anxiously on his knees. He had just checked his phone for the umpteenth time and was about to shoot her a text when the front doors opened. Students poured out onto the front steps, pushing each other around and chattering about their plans for the winter break. After a few moments, Percy caught sight of Annabeth’s blonde head, bobbing through the sea of bowl cuts.

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Canon vs. Fanfiction

In which I say thank you to all the fanfic writers (especially now that Droughtlander is officially upon us!). For those who write canon complaints, continuations, missing scenes, modern adaptions, PWPs, and AU stories. Whether you write one shots, drabbles, multi-chaps, or epic novels; fluff, angst, smut, cross-overs, and everything in between. Thank you for expanding upon this universe that we love so much and for bringing our favorite characters to life over and over and over again in ways never before seen. You’re all amazing. You’re all talented. You’re all appreciated.

T H A N K  Y O U !

[for writers like @imagineclaireandjamie (all the mods in this account, past and present), @lenny9987, @kalendraashtar, @sapphiresassenach, @balfecaitriona, @bonnie-wee-swordsman, @zoe1078, @gotham-ruaidh, @writtenthroughtime,  and any others that I may have left out. You all are fab!]

For everyone else, feel free to tag your own favorite writers!