she/her. lesbian. ma in english. current obsessions: Asian BL on rotation. a book or tv show sometimes maybe. kpop. mostly reblogs. fanfiction reader. language and linguistics. gender, sexuality, rights and kink. fandom culture and history. art, occasionally. made in denmark.
the Only Friends kiss circle is complete - Sand kissed Ray, Ray kissed Mew, Mew kissed Top, Top kissed Boston, Boston kissed Nick, and Nick kissed Sand 😵💫
I can’t personally stomach the extreme ends of whump anymore, but I’m glad that they existed and continue to exist Examining why I became sad at certain fanfics helped me get around dissociating the second I tried to think of trauma thanks to all the fanfic writers out there
very funny that the solution to shatner and nimoys feuding and ego problems behind the scenes was send them to the yaoi mines until they worked it out and this was suggested by acclaimed science fiction writer isaac asimov they will stop fighting over lines and spotlight if you always place the characters together and make their relationship central to the show one cannot think of spock without kirk and kirk without spock and next domino falls slash fiction is invented..
i want you to know i do not lie.. and then they heeded his words and sent them to the yaoi mines for the season 2 premiere
Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?
Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.
I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.
Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.
There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.
And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.
And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.
I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.
Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.
I’m sorry I pulled away for a bit. I was lost. I didn’t know where to turn or what I wanted. That’s okay. The important thing is you’re here with me now, right?I had a chat with my mom. She reminded me to cherish the one who has stood by me through thick and thin. So, here I am, with you.
