genre fic

Our friends at the Guardian are in the middle of a very interesting series on literary definitions, and recently Elizabeth Edmondson has taken issue with the distinction between literary and genre fiction: 

“Genre fiction” is a nasty phrase – when did genre turn into an adjective? But I object to the term for a different reason. It’s weasel wording, in that it conflates lit fic with literature. It was clever marketing by publishers to set certain contemporary fiction apart and declare it Literature – and therefore Important, Art and somehow better than other writing.

Jane Austen, she says, “never for a moment imagined she was writing Literature. Posterity decided that – not her, not John Murray, not even her contemporary readership. She wrote fiction, to entertain and to make money.”

Nine-tenths of me agrees with her.  No, more like 99/100 of me agrees with her – there’s just a tiny little Angry Nerd somewhere inside me who’s jumping up and down, stomping her tiny foot in rage and yelling at the lit-fic crowd to get off my lawn.  Anyhow, it’s a thoughtful, well-argued read, and you can see the rest of it here.


Love Song Lullaby

For @todaydreambelievers weekly prompt: Daddies!Klaine (not immediately obvious, but it gets there)

Klaine, 1045 words, A03


 Kurt can’t remember ever having felt this physically miserable, and he doesn’t even have any ill-conceived partying to blame it on.  Instead it is a heinous case of food poisoning that has had him retching for hours. He’ll never eat salmon again.  

For Valentine’s Day he and Blaine had tried a new restaurant in Bushwick that Rachel had recommended. It was supposed to be some kind of fusion – Kurt is a little fuzzy on the details at this point.  He is working on crafting the perfect online review, however, for when he feels well enough to open his eyes.  He quite likes the idea of a catchy headline along the lines of “fusing nausea and vomit in the heart of Brooklyn.”

So instead of a romantic evening enjoying the afterglow of a cozy dinner, their first Valentine’s Day as husbands has been spent in the bathroom of their tiny apartment.  Kurt has had the opportunity to get up close and personal with the ancient toilet, and now can testify as to precisely why it is important to actually wash the bathroom floor occasionally.

Kurt groans as his stomach clenches again.  He’s curled up in a ball on the floor, his head on Blaine’s lap.  At some point in the process they had managed to get his cashmere sweater off, leaving him just in his undershirt.  Kurt can’t seem to decide if he’s too warm or too cold, so he just breathes and hopes that he survives until morning.  Blaine strokes his back, and leans down to press a kiss to Kurt’s head.  

Kurt doesn’t respond, just presses his eyes closed and concentrates on not having to puke again. The wool of Blaine’s slacks is slightly scratchy against his cheek, but he digs his face into him anyway, his only source of comfort in this whole unfortunate evening.

It isn’t the way he imagined this night going.  It was going to be the Valentine’s Day to top all of their previous ones, better than singing love songs at Breadstix, or having confusing we’re not together but we probably will be soon sex in a hotel room.  It was going to be so much better than last Valentine’s Day, when they were both trying so hard to ignore the cracks in their relationship that some days it seemed like neither of them could say anything real to each other.

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Speak the Speech

A PJO Shakespeare Conservatory AU by moi ( 

Side note: this is my first pjo fanfic, and my first time seriously writing in a while. this is horribly unedited, but i wanna post it for my own sanity: just throw it out into the void and see what the void throws back. 

Chapter 1: Archetypes

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visit us at to learn more 

moiety of truth | 01

[ chapter one : intro to anxiety ]

   A spark of white fluttered in complete darkness before being engulfed by black. Ephemeral as it was, it was definitely there.

Then, a voice. Definitely female, soft and barely audible:

“It’s time you wake up.”


My eyes shot open and I barely had the consciousness to heave my head up before my forehead could hit the cold, hard surface of the counter before me. Blinking myself awake, I examined my surroundings and did the best I could to register what just happened.

It was the first time I’ve dreamt that, but in a sense it was inexplicably familiar. And that voice…

“Sleeping on the job, Mei? You’re slacking.”

Harkening back to reality, I gave a sheepish look at my fellow volunteer, Seokmin. “Sorry. It’s finals week; can you really blame me?” For the time being I shrugged off the questions I had regarding my short dream, because along with giving me an odd sense of familiarity, it almost felt real.

With a playful grin that reached his eyes he continued teasing, “No, but those bags under your eyes don’t look very forgiving.”

I feigned hurt, my lips pulling down in a frown. “Are they that bad?”

Seokmin, to my satisfaction, looked both shocked and guilty, his hands coming up in front of him. “I was just kidding!” he assured me quickly. “They aren’t noticeable at all!”

I laughed. “It’s okay, I don’t really care. I’m pretty sure good grades are more important than some circles under my eyes.”

“Right.” He visibly relaxed. “Anyways,” he cleared his throat, “it’s almost ten. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

It was our usual Wednesday routine: after several hours of helping out at the library, he would walk me back to my dorm (typically in silence) and we would bid each other goodbye. Though we’ve only known each other since the start of second semester, Seokmin had become one of the few people whom I’ve come to trust and genuinely enjoy the company of. Without him, volunteering at the library would be, well, Seokmin-less, which was basically the equivalent to boring.

“Bye, Seokmin,” I slid the key in the door and gave him a small wave accompanied by a smile. “Thanks for walking me again.”

“See you next Wednesday,” he grinned. He didn’t leave until he saw me get inside.

That was five days ago, and the last time I saw and was able to talk to Seokmin.

No, he didn’t die. But he was hospitalized.


“What kind of bee sting sends someone to a hospital?”

Through a mouthful of cup of noodles Soonyoung gave a shrug of the shoulders, “All that’s really known is that he collapsed and they found some sort of bee sting on the side of his neck. But apparently he’s not the only student that’s been hospitalized because of that this past week.”

I took in the new information with a frown. “That’s scary. But aren’t bees practically harmless unless you actually do something to anger them?”

My best friend narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t tell me you’re actually defending those little monsters?” He took a (large) sip of his broth.

My frown deepened. “Is it even confirmed that it’s bees that are attacking?”

“No, but what else could they be? Vampires?” He laughed dryly. “I highly doubt it.”

I brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “I guess bees really are revolting then. Is he going to be okay?” I regretted asking the moment his shoulders visibly tensed, the premonition filling me far from pleasant. Soonyoung wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his zip-up hoodie, and the atmosphere between us thickened.

“He hasn’t woken up since they found him, Mei.”

I could’ve sworn my heart stopped beating. Seokmin hasn’t woken up?

He must have noticed my horror when he quickly added: “But they say his body’s completely fine! Apparently it’s just the shock and fatigue that’s preventing him from waking up.”

I bit my lip. Shock? Fatigue? The Seokmin I knew was never tired, and it was unlikely that the bee—if it really was a bee that stung him—drained his energy like that. Eventually it dawned on me that those words were most likely euphemisms for the scathing truth.

There were gaps in the story, definitely. I refused to believe that it was a bee’s sting that could send not just Seokmin, but multiple other students, into something as dire as a coma.

For Seokmin, I was determined to get to the bottom of it.


It was difficult to return to the library the following Wednesday. I willed myself to focus on getting the job done rather than training my mind on the fact that the lack of Seokmin’s presence was, for the most part, foreign.

I distracted myself by doing more work than I normally would. In just an hour I managed to scrutinize the entire A-E and F-J sections and make sure everything was properly alphabetized (because apparently people don’t know how to do so themselves considering the amount of time that it took).

After that, I was back behind the counter. At one point Riahn, an upperclassman who volunteered here regularly, came over to talk me about something that escaped my mind the moment a sudden wave of unease washed over me, almost as if someone was watching me. The quietude of the library proved that suspicion to be wrong, but something was just off.

“Mei? Are you listening?”

Riahn’s words shook me back to reality. I blinked guiltily at her, not knowing how to respond.

“I asked if everything’s alright,” she frowned.

“Oh, right.” I mentally scolded myself for making my confusion so apparent. An awkward smile graced my face. “Sorry, it’s just so weird to be here without Seokmin breathing down my neck every second,” I half-lied.

Riahn nodded sympathetically. “Well, I was telling you that it’s already dark out and there’s not much to do. Why don’t you head back before it gets too late?”

“But my shift ends in an hour,” I protested; it was only 8:30.

“It’s okay,” she laughed. “Oh Mei,” she reached out and ruffled my hair to which I grimaced, “always so hard-working. You’re not even getting paid.”

I flattened out the strands of my hair that were now sticking up. “I guess I just like helping out?”

“Very admirable,” she teased. Her face softened, “Without Seokmin… Will you be okay walking by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine. My dorm’s not that far away.” And just for good measure, I shot her a reassuring grin. “If something happens, I think I can throw a pretty good punch.”

“Right,” she chuckled. “See you next week, then.”


When I stepped foot out of the library, the feeling that something bad was about to happen only seemed to intensify tenfold. It felt like every move I made was being scrutinized, sending a shiver down my spine. I tentatively checked my surroundings and when I found nothing, I deemed it safe and began walking.

It wasn’t completely dark, anyways; street lights provided sources of light along the campus and there were even a few other students around, so it wasn’t like I was completely alone and helpless if something did happen (so long as no one fell victim to the bystander effect, but that was something I didn’t want to think about).

It’s just my imagination, I assured myself calmly.

But part of me knew that I was just giving myself a false sense of security. My body was slowly becoming more and more overwhelmed with trepidation as time progressed. Never had I felt a foreboding this strong. Hugging my arms to my chest, I focused my eyes ahead of me and quickened my pace. The faster I got back to my dorm, the better. I kept that pace for five minutes.

I was halfway there, ready to make a right turn that would lead me to my warm, safe dormitory when I heard the unmistakable sound of someone collapsing and a deep, pained groan that immediately followed it. The sound came from the alleyway ahead of me.

Freezing dead in my tracks, I was positive that my rapid heartbeat and fear alone could have killed me before anyone else could.

Run! my body screamed at me. And I tried, really. But my feet wouldn’t budge.

Would I really feel better if I just abandoned that person? Would I ever be able to forgive myself if I just ran when I had the chance to help?

My eyes flickered towards the dimly-lit alleyway. I could barely make out just the outline of the fallen student, but what if some murderer was hiding in the shadows, waiting for me to blindly fall into their trap? My hands shook at the thought. Someone else would help, right?

I was about to make a run for it when it hit me that the only thing blinding me was my own fear. Just minutes ago I was worried of other people not helping me if something were to happen, but here I was, prepared to leave the collapsed student and move on with my life.

Wow, I laughed humorlessly to myself, I am the nicest hypocrite there is.

I ran into the darkness of the alleyway.


The first thing I saw was the collapsed student: male, thankfully fully in tact with no blood or injuries, but unconscious.

I knelt down beside his limp body and was relieved to find a faint pulse when I touched his wrist. I tried shaking him awake, but soon found my efforts to be fruitless. Sighing, I stood up to retrieve my phone from my backpack. I had to call for help, and quick. I pressed the home button to only be met with the out of battery screen that reminded me how much of a bad iPhone user I was — not to mention how luck did not seem to like me very much tonight. It was like a slap on the face, really.

“Damn, I’m too late.”

I nearly jumped when I heard a voice behind me. Spinning on my heel, I was met with another figure. From what I could make out in the scant lighting of the alleyway, it was a boy. Looking not much older than me, the boy was tall with dark hair that contrasted against his pale skin. He wore a stern look on his face, lips turned in disappointment, and to match the aura he gave he was clad in all black. His presence alone sent chills down my spine.

I was probably gaping at him but not once did he look my way. Instead, his eyes were trained on the limp body by my feet. I briefly wondered if he even knew I was there.

But how did I not hear him approaching?

The boy took a few steps towards the body and grimaced, almost in disgust. His eyes remained rooted on him. “They got him,” he stated, anger lacing his voice. “Damn pests.”

I was so confused. It took me a while to respond, unsure if he was merely making a comment to himself or informing me with what he knew. “Um,” my voice was small, hesitant. “Sorry but, who got him?”

I must have said the wrong thing because in an instant his eyes darted to me, head turning so quickly that I could barely register it, and an unpleasant mixture of regret and fear washed over me. His eyes were cold, a darkness that I felt like I was drowning in. My head started to hurt.

For a while neither of us spoke. I felt so tiny and intimidated under his hardened gaze that I almost forgot about the unconscious body by our feet. Finally, he broke the silence.

“How,” he spoke with authority, gaze calculating, “can you see me?” His voice was deep.

Such a simple question, but the demand in his voice made me think twice of how to respond; was I not supposed to see him? I broke eye contact to look up at the lamp post. “I mean, it’s not that dark,” I replied dumbly.

Wrong answer again, apparently.

His gaze wavered for a split second before turning a thousand times more austere (if that was even possible). If I thought the look he wore before was cold, it was freezing now. I took a step back.

His lips curled into a snarl. “How—” But he stopped mid-sentence to whip around and that’s when I saw it.

I couldn’t believe my own eyes. “What is that?” I gasped.

Behind the boy was a flying monster-like insect at least the size of my forearm darting towards us. Its eyes were hollow and its skin was a lifeless blue-grey, a set of wings protruding from its back. It “buzzed” so loudly that I clamped my hands over my ears. The only comparison I could make would be a giant, demented hornet that would likely be the subject of a child’s nightmares.

The boy took a defensive stance and glanced back at me quickly. “If you don’t want to die, stay behind me,” he commanded.

I could only nod uselessly. I should have ran when I had the chance; why do I have to be a good person; I’m never going to make it out of this alive!

The thing was so close that I shrieked in terror, dropping to my my knees so I could cover my head with my arms in a useless attempt to protect myself. But I was only met with silence, and a vile scent filled my nostrils.

I looked up to see the boy standing easily, looking unfazed, one hand dangling by his side and the other raised in a stab to the hornet-thing’s heart. He was using a dagger.

Slowly, the hornet-like monster went limp and burst into disintegrated pieces that vanished into the air. There was no blood, no remnants of its body, no buzzing, nothing. The putrid smell was gone, too.

The boy brought his hand back down and tucked his dagger into his back pocket. He let out a breathy sigh and turned back to check on me.

Convinced that I was dreaming, I could only stare up at him. Then, a hand went over my mouth before I turned to my side and threw up my dinner.


Slashsessed Fanfiction Review

Phoenix From the Ashes by bunnysworld

After a sudden and unexpected break up with Rin and Haru, Sousuke and Makoto turn to each other for comfort and solace.

This is a gorgeous story that just keeps getting better and better! I love seeing the way that Sousuke and Makoto’s relationship develops, especially after the pain they endured. I have to admit, this will not make you like Haru very much, but it’s truly a lovely story that you should try out!

The story was inspired by this heartrending fan art by smlove0319.

anyway I’m sure this is obvious to everyone by now but my favorite trope/genre in prequel-trilogy fic is DEFINITELY and SHAMELESSLY “people save Anakin Skywalker from himself”. time-travel, dimensional-travel, body-swaps, visions from Mortis, someone just makes a different choice at some point, idk doesn’t matter, whatever, I’ll take it, give it ALL to me, PUT IT ALL IN MY LIFE. 

in my defense, that is probably also LUKE Skywalker’s favorite trope, sooo … 

TITLE OF STORY: What’s Yours is Mine
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: Chapter Eighteen (Finale)
AUTHOR: teacuphiddlesfics & cheers-mrhiddleston
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Twin AU - Jag!Tom & Exec!Tom
GENRE: Angst/Drama, Action
FIC SUMMARY: Meet Thomas and William Hiddleston, inseparable identical twin brothers and heirs to the phenomenally successful Hiddleston Corporations. That is, until Thomas was cut off from his family for his drug usage in university, leaving William to run the company alone. But now, their family is in shambles; a sick mum and a wash-out dad has led the fortune to run dry and the company into deep debt. With no other options, William has only one person to turn to for help: the most successful drug lord in England: his own twin, Thomas.
WARNINGS: Explicit language, sexual content, violence.
AUTHOR NOTE: This is a collaboration between myself and teacuphiddlesfics, and we’ll be alternating writing the chapters, so make sure you’re following Christine (also at teacuphiddles) if you aren’t already! Also, check out more about the twins here.

Being bound to a chair with some broken ribs, nose, and black eye was serving as a terrible inconvenience to Thomas.

Add in the fact he had had no food or water for the last four – or was it now five? – days, he suspected that the fuzziness in his head was just going to get worse the more time that passed.

Where the hell was William?

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Tonight (You're Falling in Love)

title: Tonight (You’re Falling in Love)

author:  softboys

pairing: Chanyeol/Kyungsoo

word count: 4.7k

rating: nc-17

genre: smut

warnings: Cursing, slight dirty talking, ABO dynamics, blowjobs.

summary: College/ABO AU. Kyungsoo’s friends drag him to a frat party hosted by an all-alpha fraternity. Or so it seems.

-Admin Daichi

Tutor Me Good



AUTHOR: writerlivinginadarkworld


GENRE: Erotica, Romance

FIC SUMMARY: Lia is falling behind in her university math class, so her Professor tells her she needs to find a tutor. Her friend’s cousin, Chris is a resident smart guy on campus and is more than happy to tutor Lia. Lia has a huge crush on Chris though and gets distracted during their tutor session. Hot sexy library times ensue.


WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHOR’S NOTES: Public smut, NSFW picture, cursing, humor, cute fluff, nothing too bad honestly. I have been working on this for a while now. It is crap like usual though. Edited for anon. 

FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Always welcome.


“I’m sorry Ms. Harper, but you need to get a tutor. Your grade has dropped down, showing that you clearly don’t understand the subject.” My professor said to me with an unenthusiastic face.

I knew I was having trouble with the class but I didn’t want to admit it. Now I was being forced to face it.

“Okay, I will get a tutor. Do you know where I could find one?” I questioned my uninterested professor.

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Home, Chapter 5

AUTHOR: Losille2000
GENRE: Romance/Drama
FIC SUMMARY: Tom returns home grouchy and exhausted from a cramped flight after four months away for work. Unfortunately, there’s already someone sleeping in his bed.
RATING: M (sex, language)
AUTHORS NOTES: So this took longer than I thought it would. My most humble apologies and thanks for everything. Please enjoy!

Previous Chapter

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What annoys me about Kvothe is not so much that he’s a gratuitous Mary-Sue, but that despite this fact he is taken incredibly seriously by critics. People bitch about how unrealistic it is that everybody fancies Bella Swan, about how stupid it is for teenage girls to indulge in a fantasy where powerful supernatural beings are sexually attracted to them. People laugh at characters like Sonea and Auraya because they’re just magic sparkly princesses with super-speshul magic sparkle powers. But take all of those qualities – hidden magic power, ludicrously expanding skillset, effortless ability to attract the opposite sex despite specifically self-describing as being bad at dealing with them, and slap it on a male character, and suddenly we get the protagonist of one of the most serious, most critically acclaimed fantasy novels of the last decade.
Kurt In Manhattan

Author: lemonwhiskers

Rating: T

Status: Complete

Word Count: 28,263

Summary: Based on the film Maid in Manhattan. Kurt is a single parent working in a hotel in New York. He meets politician Blaine Anderson and his life instantly changes. Sparks fly but will Kurt’s lies about his job ultimately destroy any connection they had?

Tropes/Genre: romance, AU, future!fic, political!Klaine, daddy!Kurt, movie!fic

Lynne’s review: Secrets, lies and a love connection. I love it when Blaine connects with Kurt’s children…very sweet. And I wanted to smack Jesse St. James.

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Things You Said When You Thought I Was Asleep (one shot)

TITLE: Things You Said When You Thought I Was Asleep
CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT:  (Tom and Abby) one shot
AUTHOR:  theothercourse
GENRE: Fluff/Romance
FIC SUMMARY: Tom and Abby have been married for nearly a year. Tom’s been promoting I Saw the Light, High Rise and The Night Manager, and has spent so little time at home. While Abby’s been touring Europe with her play, she’s been harboring a hope of something more. But does Tom want the same?
RATING: Mature (for themes)
AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: Based on the characters from Upstaged, In His Kiss,In Her Arms, Who Loves You, Baby?, The Road to Something BetterRegarding Abigail, Tom/Abby One Shots, All Tom/Abigail in chronological order - Written for an anon who asked for a prompt from this list (#12 for Tom and Abby - “things you said when you thought i was asleep”)

Things You Said When You Thought I Was Asleep

“My Thomas,” Abby whispered on a sigh, her fingers tracing the length of my nose. My wife had been awake for some time already, I could feel the excitement grow in her with each passing moment. Her joie de vivre felt infectious, but I wasn’t ready to join the land of the living after my first night in my own bed with my wife in too long.

I moaned and pressed the bulk of her into me as I sank further into the bedclothes.

“You awake?” Hopeful, maybe.

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anonymous asked:


my guy.. that is an entire genre of fic. it’s called “movie night” which is a subgenre of “hsau” and it started one fateful night months ago. My favorite movie night fics include the first one, the classic, titled Movie Night, and then of course there is the wonderful slow burn Just For Research.

Have fun, nut safe

Letters From A Wallflower

Author: pulling-the-puzzles-apart

Rating: M

Status: Complete

Word Count: 56,659

Summary: Blaine meets Kurt when he moves to Lima and McKinley High in his junior year. He starts writing letters to Kurt in secret when he feels lonely. Inspired by Perks of Being a Wallflower, but a new plot.

Tropes/Genre: movie!fic, highschool!Klaine, angst, romance

Lynne’s review: An alternate view of Klaine at McKinley, very sweet build up.  I love the letter writing between the boys. As always, Blaine’s parents are nothing to be desired and I wanted to throttle them and hug Burt Hummel. Nice story.

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Slashsessed Fanfiction Review

Nasir and the Imaginary Boyfriend by Gaia_bing

Nasir is through with love. The relationship he thought was real turned out to be one big lie, and Nasir is done with it all. He believes that love is wonderful, but due to his experiences, he knows he’s just one of those people who will never have the love people read about in fairytales. Little does Nasir know that a close friend from his past is on his way to try to change his mind and show Nasir that love is very real and definitely in his future.

The first word that comes to mind when I think of this story so far is “aww’. It’s absolutely adorable! My heart ached for Nasir and his attitude towards love, but Agron’s determination and child-like innocence brought a huge smile to my face. Definitely recommended!

picture credit: AllieJacques