first author

I got talking with my dude about how it’s silly that people expect that a romantic partner should share all your interests, and he was like, right, you should be your own person, and I admitted that sometimes I’m jealous of my favorite authors who have partners(husbands) who read their work and are their biggest fans, but I get that that’s not mandatory, and he said, well, right, you wouldn’t really appreciate my criticisms, since my tastes are so different from yours, and I don’t remember exactly what I said, but he perked up when I mentioned how much porn I’d been writing lately, and he was like, you know, I probably would have some reasonably meaningful feedback on that, and honestly I dunno, I write a lot of gay stuff, and stuff I don’t think he’d really be all that into, but, well, long story short I sent him a link to the most recent PWP (Yavin IVsome) and I’m now rereading it with a critical eye and kind of thinking like, hm, maybe I shouldn’t have sent him that, so, uh, anyway. It’s a bit female-gazey, now that I reread it, and maybe I’m too flowery in the descriptions, and gosh. 

… Dude and I have been together for a decade and a half, and the last thing of mine I had him read, he wanted to know why everybody had dumb names. He is Super Not Into fantasy or sci-fi stuff at all, and doesn’t read much at all but when he does, it’s contemporary stuff. He loved Nick Hornby etc. He doesn’t do drama or epic shit or any of the stuff I do.

This is almost as bad as when I told my sister my AO3 handle and linked her to a fic. It’s been like six months, she didn’t read it, I think I’m all good, but the nervousness about it… 

y’all don’t understand, I’m not out to people in RL, I don’t know anyone in person who’s basically ever read my fanfic. Some of y’all talk about, like, your mom reading your shit, and liking it, and giving you advice, and I can’t even imagine what that would be like.

I almost hope he doesn’t read it because then I can stop worrying what he won’t like about it. Ugh I’m the worst at dealing with this.

Do you ever wish you could go back to the first time you read your favourite book?

The book that you could not put down.

The book that, once closed, you couldn’t stop thinking about.

The book that no other book could possibly compare to.

It’s a whole new world opening up for you.

It’s the lack of knowing what is happening that keeps you coming back until you’ve read the last page.

You can always read it again and I’m sure it will be great.

But that first time you read it, it’s unexplainable.

You don’t get that the second, third or fourth time.

You only get that once.

And I think that’s beautiful but so heartbreaking.

Every Harry Potter fanfiction I’ve read and loved

Drarry-

9 times Harry kissed Draco and the 1 time Draco kissed Harry

Action Figures

Animus Nexus

Best Laid Plans

Beyond the Mirror’s Edge

Chase the Wind

Collecting Kisses

Dormiscere

Draco Malfoy and the Sleepwalking Saviour

Draco Malfoy’s Harry Potter Pickup Lines

Drarry 30 Day OTP Challenge

Eclipse

For Every Action

Get Some

Heart in a Blender

How I Met Your Father

If He Ever Becomes My Boyfriend

Kiss Me, Cure Me

Kiss the Joy (Until the Sunrise)

Marginal Notes

Mental

Seeker, Chaser, Keeper

So Worth the Yearning For…

Spin the Wand

State of Mind

The Incredible Race

The LipLock Jinx

The Ministry Olympics

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight

The One Where Harry Proposes

The Proposal

Things I am Not Allowed to do at Hogwarts

Unexpected Consequences

Working it Out Like Adults

You’re Not Dead!

Zero to Hero

Wolfstar-

A Lone Wolf

Bandages

Dating Remus Lupin

Five Stories Over Four Years- The Jam Instances

Hopeless

In the Middle

James Potter Proposes Excellent Bets

Our Blood, Still Young

Punk Rock Suburban

Resolutions

Revelations In The Snow

Rumors and Patronuses

Stupid Cupid

Subtlety, Thy Name is Sirius Black

The Fire Whisky Interrogation

The Perfect Kiss

The stars in your eyes and the moon in mine

The Voice In His Head

The Voice, Louder

To Kiss a Bloke

DeanxSeamus-

Hiding Scrawl, Licking Freckles, and Other Average Wizard Things

Staring in the Great Hall

Tell me if any of the links aren’t working. Happy reading!

Sick of being forced to fall in love with each other, all the characters of a series team up and declare war on the real world, and their first target is the author

  • <p> <b>Some mainstream YA writer trying to write a "goth" character:</b> <p/><b></b> This is my character, her name is Raven (her real name is Sarah but she hates it) and she doesnt get along with her parents because they dont understand her. Shes a goth but shes not like other goths. She doesnt listen to actual goth music or care about the goth subculture. She doesnt fit in at school and does everything to push people away when secretly she wants friends and she'll whine about it in her spooky Jack Skellington diary later. Shes her own type of goth who pretends she hates being called goth but she actually likes it because she thinks it makes her look like a cool outsider. She also secretly likes cute, girly stuff and one day (possibly with the help of that cute popular boy she likes) she'll transform from her goth cocoon and turn into a beautiful butterfly of a woman who understands herself and loves her family and doesnt dress goth anymore.<p/><b>What i hear:</b> <p/><b></b> I dont actually know anything about goths or their subculture and im too lazy to do any research or talk to actual goths so that i can learn how to write a deep, realistic character that doesnt depend solely on cliches and stereotypes.<p/></p>

Dearest,

I feel certain I am going mad again.

we will go through             terrible times. And            recover. I
begin to hear your voice, and can’t             concentrate. So I am
doing what seems

will give me the greatest possible happiness.

I don’t think two people could           have been happier      with
this disease. I know
that without                    you       I    can’t properly feel.

What I want to say is You             have

saved me.


Everything has gone from me


but the certainly of your goodness.

Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib, "The Author Writes the First Draft of His Wedding Vows,” an erasure of Virginia Woolf’s suicide letter to her husband, Leonard, The Crown Ain’t Worth Much

The Encounter - A Fatal Error fanfic

So I had an idea for a story! I apologize in advance.)

***

*You pet the dog. Petting capacity is at 50%.

Greater Dog’s tail wagged at incredible speed as Frisk rubbed his belly. It seemed like they couldn’t stop just yet, unless they wanted to hear his incessant whining. Not that that was a problem, of course. Frisk was more than happy to indulge the small dog.

Eventually, Greater Dog yipoed and placed his paw on their hands. It seemed like he wanted them to stop. Frisk complied, then the dog stood back up and hopped into his empty armor headfirst. His tail stuck out from the top as he left the area. Frisk giggled at how goofy it looked. They wiped off the snow from their shorts and started heading back to Snowdin.

As they walked, Frisk admired the sight of all the snowflakes falling from the sky. The trees swayed somehow in a nonexistant breeze, and the occasional passerby would greet them. Even monsters that didn’t recognize Frisk were so nice. Everything about this was just so…peaceful. They hoped it would only get better from here on out…

Snap.

Frisk jumped, startled by the sudden sound. They looked down and saw no twigs underneath their feet, so why…?

Frisk curved their lips. …It’s probably just Sans. But…why doesn’t he just come out?

“Hello?” Frisk called out. “Is anyone there?”

“…Sans?”

Frisk squinted their (already tiny) eyes. They could make out some sort of figure, huddled up behind the trees further up ahead.

…But the twig was behind them. How could he have done that?

Frisk didn’t understand much about the Underground yet. Maybe, if they just walked up to him….he could explain?

Frisk took a deep breath, then began to approach who they believed to be the short, pun-loving skeleton. As they got closer, however…he obscured himself just a little more.

But why? Was he afraid of them?

…No, he couldn’t be… Frisk thought. He was the first person I met after I left the Ruins…

…Unless…

Frisk picked up speed. The figure reacted frantically to their approach, making a few shuffling noises in the snow. It wasn’t until Frisk entered the forest that they got a much better view.

…What they saw in front of them, they hadn’t expected at all.

It was Sans, or…it wasn’t? Frisk couldn’t tell. His jacket had been bleached of all color, and several specks of…something surrounded his body. They resembled glitches, and some of the pieces were even detached from his own body. It ended up looking like fragments of his body were missing, or simply floating around him.

But what bothered Frisk the most were his eyes and chest. His eye sockets had no lights in them, and were instead mismatched in shape and color. One was blue (and they swore they could see words inside of it), while the other was bright red and…half-melted. It was uncomfortable to look at those seemingly empty eyes…

…And on Sans’ chest, there was a wide, ghastly cut, extending diagonally across his belly to nearly the top of his shirt. The strange words in his eyes were unmistakably there as well, and his slippers were stained with what looked like blood.

Seeing the cut made Frisk a bit queasy. What could’ve happened to this poor skeleton?

“…Sans?” Frisk whispered, their voice quivering. The skeleton, who hadn’t seemed entirely focused on them before, lifted his head at the mention of the name.

“… yyyou… you aare…”

Frisk winced at the sound of his voice. It sounded so distorted, so broken that they could hardly understand it. And yet…they still could.

…This was all very strange.

“…Frisk,” they replied. “I’m Frisk. We met earlier…didn’t we?”

“…. Dddin’t we?” he mimicked. Frisk was a bit unnerved by that, but they didn’t want to just leave him like this.

“…You aren’t the same skeleton I met. Are you?”

‘Sans’ tilted his head, contemplating the question. Eventually, he shook his head.

“…I see.” Frisk scratched their head, then stared at him hesitantly.

“Then who are you?”

Frisk watched as he reached up for his scarf and clung to it tightly.

“. .. Nnoo one. Jusst passing throughh.”

It was the most coherent sentence they had heard from him so far. Frisk prepared themselves mentally to ask something else.

“…What happened to you?”

The skeleton’s head lowered a little. His grip tightened on the scarf.

“sssomething i lost important to me i lost him”

“W-what?”

“nnot here gone why he’s nnot here”

“I-I don’t under-”

“bbbrotherr find him i can’t i can’t WHHERE IS HHE-”

“Please!”

He stopped. He turned his head towards Frisk, who looked a little bit afraid.

“Please, slow down. I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

The skeleton shut his eyes and rubbed his arm. He suddenly felt something warm touching him. He opened one eye and saw it was Frisk, looking up at him with concern.

“Do you…wanna talk about it?”

He abruptly sat down in the snow, shaking his head vigorously. Frisk felt their heart clench at how miserable and lost the skeleton looked.

“…Okay. Can I sit with you, then?”

He shrugged. Frisk took it as a yes, or that he at least didn’t seem to mind. They sat down next to the skeleton and said nothing for a while.

Frisk and the strange skeleton just watched the snow fall.

After a while, Frisk turned their head towards the skeleton.

“…I should probably get going. I can’t stay here forever.”

They smiled, and patted his shoulder. Frisk didn’t know if he liked hugs.

“It was nice to meet you.” Frisk stood up and began to walk towards the end of the forest.

“…… .pppap…yrus……

Frisk paused midstep, then turned around.

”…What was that?“

He twiddled his fingers anxiously and grinned.

”.. . papyyrus. Myy brotherr.… “

Frisk’s mouth opened a little in surprise. ”…Papyrus? So wait…you ARE Sans?“

”…mmyyy papyrruss isss missing lost he’s not gone.. .“

Frisk shook her head. ”…I still don’t understand you. Where is he?“

He clenched his hands into fists. His grin slowly turned into a grimace. ”. …goonneee… . .“

They rubbed their head and looked down, realizing what Sans meant by that single word.

”…Oh. I’m really sorry…“

Frisk was about to say something else when they were cut off abruptly. They couldn’t speak or breath properly all of a sudden. They noticed that several red strings had appeared out of nowhere, and most were wrapped tightly around their body. Trembling, they looked over at the skeleton.

He was grinning again, but it seemed far more sinister than before. Frisk could see tears in his eyes.

“B E C A U S E O F Y O U .”

Xedra’s Notes:

Originally posted by cratermania

THIS IS FANTASTIC, OH MY GOODNESS WHY ARE YOU APOLOGIZING?? I AM FLOORED, THIS IS SO GREAT! HHHHHH-

I really like your writing style, and your characterization of Fatal! And I really REALLY like how you wrote his dialogue! It was so spot on :’D

So, there were these really cool headcanons by @voiceintheradio (I’m on mobile so I can’t actually tag oops) about Host having puppets he used to help him cope and it’s super cool

But of course my bullshit mind immediately to “Wait, what if they were those goofy hand puppets???????”.

so here’s this bullshit

((ignore the notes that’s from something else))