Kudos to fanfiction writers for writing about all the trauma and emotional and mental turmoil that the original content creators dont acknowledge when putting characters through hell
This has evolved to one of fanfiction’s major assets in my eyes. To every author that cares enough about the characters in their stories to examine trauma, but also the slow, tedious processes of healing and recovery: your stories mean so much to me and other persons with mental health problems. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
It’s okay to take a break.
– We all need time to recharge, and your fans will still be there when you get back!
It’s okay to go from fandom to fandom.
– Nobody is going to criticize you for following your muse, and if they do, then you know who not to associate with in the future!
It’s okay to have a niche.
– If smut is where it’s at, then write smut. If you’re all about the fluff, then schmoop away. If angst is what does it for you, then invest in tissues. Nobody has the right to tell you that you should be doing something else if that isn’t what interests you!
It’s okay to be critical of your own work.
– Just don’t allow yourself to become so self-deprecating that you freeze!
It’s okay to ask for help.
– If you’re unsure of a trope, concept, fact or universe, reach out to your circle of friends. Chances are, they’ll be more than happy to help you because they want to see you succeed!
It’s okay to ignore criticism.
– Constructive criticism is only constructive if it helps you. If someone says something that doesn’t assist or improve you in any way, then please feel free to ignore whatever nugget they are imparting, because chances are good they don’t have the best of intentions for you!
It’s okay to stop writing all together.
– Your fans will miss you (and chances are good you have way more than you realize,) but sometimes, you just gotta do you!
It’s okay to write with whatever method works for you.
– Long writing marathons where you bang out 12,000 words in one day? Great! Linear, dry style that means you occassionally get stuck because you can’t figure out this scene, but it’s all worth it in the end? Rad! Piecemeal work that you thread together at the end? Fabulous! As long as it works for you, there is no wrong way to write!
It’s okay to have fun.
– I think this goes without saying, no? But it seems that sometimes, authors need permission. So consider this permission to wile the hell out, and enjoy the ride!
I think there’s a few of us needing this right now, myself included.
Rictor notices the problem when he tries to pull his jacket off and his arm refuses to entirely cooperate. It’s only a moment, the flinch too quick for a normal person to notice, but Shatterstar, damn him, DOES notice, bright eyes darting up at the momentary grunt.
“I don’t mind you running off to have adventures without me,” ‘Star says in a tone that implies sort of the exact opposite. “But I would prefer it if Illyana returned my boyfriend in one piece.” He rumbles, pushing up from his seat to circle Rictor like a gigantic ginger shark. “She and I will have words, Julio. Strong words.”
“I’m fine. It wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle, baby.” Rictor says blithely as he once again tries to take off his jacket. When it’s clear he’s stuck like a toddler in a snowsuit, he sags. “Please help me take off my jacket, ‘Star,” he adds, with a deep air of resignation.
So much more carefully than his strength would imply, ‘Star divests him of the jacket, and lays a big hand on Ric’s shoulder, practiced fingers looking for deformation. “I don’t think it’s out of the socket,” he says, sliding his hands up the back of Rictor’s shirt. “Did you do this in battle?”
Rictor thinks for a moment, remembering the exact moment he reached funny across the counter at convenience store to get smoothies for himself and Guido and coughs. “The worst. Such a fight.” He says quickly.
‘Star very seriously kisses the spot where it hurts (He always knows exactly where it hurts, Ric thinks, and that is not at all fair) “Next time, perhaps it will not hurt so bad if you remember to get me a shake, too.” He whispers against the juncture of Rich’s shoulder and neck, and Ric can feel the curve of his lips and the sharp edge of his teeth.
“Who told you?” Ric asks sheepishly as ‘Star’s arms wrap around him.
“I follow Tabitha on Instagram.” ‘Star laughs as he bites down, just a little bit. “Lesson learned?”
A Beautiful Monster 