#the struggles of a fanfiction author
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rentumblsstuff Ā· 2 months ago
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Daily affirmations but itā€™s just ā€œI WILL finish the last chapter of my fic todayā€
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possumplagues Ā· 2 years ago
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why is writing fanfic so hard. i just want to be able to sit down, think my idea, and have it magically show up in my doc exactly how i see it.
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daisyvramien Ā· 9 months ago
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swordymacaroni Ā· 4 months ago
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šŸŽ€Screw a breakup, you ever write 5000 words of a fanfic and realize you kept switching between tenses every two paragraphs?
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abstractpenny Ā· 8 months ago
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for all my writer friends:
whatever your word count, it's okay.
a small word count means you got your words across quickly and sweetly, while a large word count means more content for your readers.
sometimes chapters are big, sometimes they're small. whatever it is, it doesn't dictate your value.
you're doing so well, keep it up :D
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iamyourdailydoseofbi Ā· 3 months ago
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WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BEING KIND TO THOSE PUBLISHING FANFICS? Like, we publish FREE fanfics, on our own time / cost / etc. We don't have to do this. And people as of late, have just been so hateful. What happened to the fandoms?
This is a legit convo I had in my dm's over one of my fanfics on wattpad.
Reader : Your character cries too much!
Me : Oh, well, she's literally undergoing stressful situations and it's natural that she will break down. Not to mention, she's not been given any real time to cope with the loss of her loved ones. Besides, I have only posted a few chapter's so her growth has not yet been posted / explored.
Reader : She's just a cry baby!
Me : Oh, well, if you don't like the way she copes, you don't have to read the book. I am sure there are other books out there with main character's you may like.
Reader : You can't tell me what I can and can't read! Your a horrible author for not trying to please your fans-
Me :
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EDIT TO POST!
It's the cruelty of the fandom's / mean fans / how they treat each other, that causes most author's / fans to stop loving a fandom. And it sucks! I remember when fandom's used to hype each other up and gust over character's / fanfics. Now, it just feels like pool of negativity.
----
@lovelykhaleesiii
@danytar
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bobaheadshark Ā· 4 months ago
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my gender? former english literature student who uses their powers for good (writing gay fanfiction)
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cowboylikeyouu Ā· 2 months ago
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people who donā€™t leave comments on ao3 are the bane of my existence, i canā€™t with you guys
"i donā€™t know what to sayšŸ„¹"
keep your dumb excuses to yourself and just say something like:
"omg i loved this"
"this was so cute"
"you write them so well"
"ahhhhh this is amazing"
"my favorite part was [insert your favorite quote]"
"[insert funny quote] LMAOOO"
"[insert shocking/emotional/whatever quote] are you kidding me omg???"
to name a few examples. itā€™s not. that. fucking. hard.
"iā€˜m scaredšŸ„¹"
what the FUCK are you scared of, i promise you, the second you leave a nice comment authors will basically worship you, you should be much more scared as a silent reader, because you annoy the fuck out of me. yea thanks for the kudos ig but i would trade 100 kudos for 2 nice comments without a second thought.
itā€™s totally fine if you donā€™t comment on every chapter of every fic you read, hell sometimes i donā€™t feel like commenting either, but i almost always come back to at least say "loved this, tysm" or something.
you get thousands of amazing works FOR FREE, people are working months on these stories FOR FREE, and itā€™s so so so easy to make their day by just leaving a few nice words. and if you donā€™t wanna be public about it, dm them on tumblr or whatever.
anyways, to anyone who leaves comments regularly: hereā€˜s a 0.5 pic of hugh jackman for you.
silent readers: you guys arenā€˜t allowed to look
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i-will-write Ā· 2 months ago
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Please help! I have the first couple chapters of a new fic ready to be posted, all I miss is a title for it.
The basic plot is: a homeless teen finds a baby abandoned and decide to take him in as a son. As the child grow he start to show superpowers (time travel btw) and one day he travel too far finding himself unable to return back home. Learning of a plot to cause the end of the world the now-no-longer-child need to find a way to save his family (and the world too I guess) while his father mourns his supposed death.
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spacealligator Ā· 2 months ago
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me standing up in the circle of people: hello, my name is Space Alligator and I'm addicted to starting WIPs I'll never finish. the rest of them in chorus: hello Space Alligator. me: I haven't started a WIP in two months *claps go around the circle* me: but! *already sobbing* yesterday I started ANOTHER ONE! Even though I already had NINE STORIES in my WIP folder! everyone in chorus again: you're valid *the fanfic writers anonymous counselor stands and hugs me and everybody claps*
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rentumblsstuff Ā· 25 days ago
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fanfic-funnies Ā· 4 months ago
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Pffftttt šŸ’€šŸ’€šŸ’€
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thetimetraveler24 Ā· 3 months ago
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The stupid thing about writing fanfic that they donā€™t tell you is that, yes, youā€™ll become hella good at writing good stuff, but youā€™ll have so many ideas about these fictional copyrighted characters. And when you want to sit down and write a book you can actually profit off, you have zero ideas because all you want to write about is these copyrighted characters.
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sweetly-yours-and-mine Ā· 2 years ago
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ā€œiā€™m never more at peace than i am in your arms.ā€ with Steven Grant
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Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader
Word Count: 887
A/N: Just opened up my askbox for some requests!
Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, poorly-edited
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The service had been a lovely one. The reception even lovelier.Ā 
The reception is even lovelier.Ā 
Having stepped outside of the venue and into the cooled heat of the summer night for a momentā€™s rest from the festivities, you feel as if it was all a memory, a misfiring of neurons that made you believe that the day had truly happened.Ā 
Youā€™re tired, tuckered out. The type that only comes from not eating enough and feeling too much.Ā 
Your bones ache, thereā€™s a film of something stuck to your skin and inside your lungs. Youā€™ve spent too much of the day outside, with too many people youā€™d spend at most an hour with.Ā 
A grating static is littered like chalk dust inside your mind. The more you try to wipe it away the worse it gets.Ā 
A rumble of laughter flows out from the open window, and it goes straight to your head in the worst of ways.Ā 
Itā€™s a horrid combination of too many things that, each one in moderation, would be alright to handle but put together like this are too much at once.Ā 
Youā€™re oversaturated.Ā 
Thereā€™s an increase and decrease in noise as the door opens and closes, the bit of a drag on the second step that lets you know that everything is going to be alright, that you no longer need to struggle to keep the cracking mask on.Ā 
ā€œHiya love,ā€ his voice is warm, like the sun. ā€œEverything alright? Lost each other in there, didnā€™t we? For a bit.ā€ His arm comes to curl around your waist, he pulls you close to him.Ā 
Everything is alright now.Ā 
Guilt crawls up your throat at the poorly-hidden worry in his voice, ļæ½ļæ½ļæ½Sorry about that.ā€ Heā€™s wearing the cologne you got him for Valentineā€™s three years ago. Heā€™s on his second bottle now. ā€œDidnā€™t mean to run off.ā€Ā 
ā€œWell you didnā€™t go very far,ā€ Steven shrugs. The movement against your own body is a redemption in itself. Thereā€™s a purr of laughter around his voice, ā€œIf anything Iā€™d say it was a piss-poor attempt at running off.ā€Ā 
You smile and laugh, breathing coming to you a little bit easier now that his body is warming yours up, now that itā€™s just the two of you again. ā€œDidnā€™t take you long to find me.ā€Ā 
He shrugs again. You suppose there isnā€™t an answer to that anyways, the pull between you and Steven inexplicable, though entirely tangible to the both of you.Ā 
ā€œYou feelinā€™ alright, though, dearie? Somethinā€™ on your mind?ā€ His free hand presses against your forehead, the side of your face. Thereā€™s a dimple between his eyebrows.Ā 
You turn and look up at him, pressing the length of your body into his side. Even the rub of the fabric of his pants against your skin is enough, the truth of his own skin underneath shining through it all like seaglass.Ā 
You know for a fact thereā€™s a dopey grin on your face. Your arms come to circle around his neck like Saturnā€™s rings, your fingers come to play with the ends of his hair, ā€œJust you.ā€Ā 
ā€œYou wanna go home? Really, I wouldnā€™t mind, the band was gettinā€™ a bit on my nerves if Iā€™m being honest,ā€ he turns away for a moment, his voice dropping to a grumbling tone like it always does when he complains. ā€œDonā€™t know what kinda stick that trumpeter's got up his arse but heā€™d be doing us all a good favour if he took it out and threw it far, far-.ā€Ā 
ā€œSteven,ā€ your voice isnā€™t harsh, a gentle callback to the moment between you two that existed free of any trumpets. ā€œIā€™m alright now,ā€ you cup his cheek, gaze into the coffee cups of his eyes. Heā€™s more concerned than you initially took it for, his light-hearted teasing a paper-thin veil. ā€œJust needed a breather.ā€Ā 
ā€œYou sure you donā€™t wanna go? Itā€™ll be much nicer at home, Gusā€™ll be there nā€™all.ā€Ā 
Steven loves live music, despite his complaints. Heā€™s notorious for being the life of the dance floor whenever you two go out, and his eyes are still twinkling, the need to dance still present in his soul like a blossoming tulip.Ā 
ā€œI'm never more at peace than when Iā€™m in your armsā€¦when Iā€™m with you,ā€ you smile, trace the ridges and grooves of his nose, press your thumb into the prominent pockmark on his left cheek, right above his mouth. ā€œThanks for coming and finding me.ā€Ā 
ā€œā€˜Course honey, ā€˜course,ā€ he swallows, tightens his grip on you a little. ā€œYou really wanna stay?ā€Ā 
You nod, ā€œI think Iā€™ve got an hour or two left in me.ā€
He doesnā€™t stray from your side once after that, sweat dampening his forehead as he spins and spins to the music he seemingly hated. In something beyond your soul, his presence is steady and quiet like a rusted anchor.Ā Ā 
Stevenā€™s hand is warm and soothing in yours, his voice hoarse and scratched an hour later, after youā€™ve said your goodbyes and are heading out.Ā 
Your feet ache a little. For some reason, the nails of your hands are throbbing. Your soul is calm, soothed.Ā 
As always, all you really needed was Steven.Ā 
And Steven always came to you.
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Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.
Masterlist here, requests here.
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loonylupinblack3 Ā· 1 year ago
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Me: I'm going to write today! Today is going to be a writing day!
Also me: Does literally anything but writing
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fanficaddict4 Ā· 4 months ago
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REAL
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