#*writer

[writers-potion]

Let's Talk About Pacing Our Fight Scenes.

For Fast-Paced Parts:

Short words with single syllables. Immediately > at once/ endeavour > try/ indicate > point at/ investigate > check out.

Short sentences, the shorter the better.

Partial sentences to blaze through multiple senses and actions within a few lines.

Short paragraphs

Lots of verbs.

Few adjectives and adverbs.

Cut down on -ing form of verbs, as it can make words longer

Use simple past tense

Avoid conjunctions and link words.

Avoid internal thought - your characters are irrational, ruthless and in the flow of pure action.

For Slow-Paced Parts:

Use medium/long sentences

the paragraphs are longer: three lines minimum

Include longer words with more syllables

Use adjectives and maybe a couple of adverbs.

Insert the thoughts of the PoV character.

Words for Action Scenes

act, alter, attack, avert, back, block, bang, bash, battle, beat, beg, belt, bend, best, bite, blacken, bleed, blind, blister, blow, blunt, boil, bolt, boot, bore, bow, box, brace, brag, brash, brawl, break, breathe, brush, buck, bulgde, burn, burst, cackle, call, can, carry, cart, carve, catch, check, chop, chuck, clack, clank, clap, clash, claw, clear, cleave, click, cliff, cling, clip, close, club, cock, coil, cold, collar, come, con, connect, corner, cost, count, counter, cover, cower, crack, crackle, cram, crash, crawl, creep, crinkle, cross, crouch, rush, cry, cuff, cull, cup, curl, curse, curve, cusp, cut, dart, dash, deepen, dig, deep, dip, ditch, drive, drop, duck, dump, ede, effect, erect, escape, exert, expect, feint, fight, fire fist, fit, flag, flare, flash, flick, fling, flip, flock, force, gash, gasp, get, gore, grab, grasp, grip, grope, group, hack, harden, heat, help, hit, hop, hurl, hurry, impale, jab, jar, jerk, join, jolt, jump, keep, kick, kill, knee, knock, knot, knuckle, leak, leap, let, lever, lick, lift, lock, loop, lop, plunge, mask, nick, nip, open, oppose, pace, pack, pain, pair, pale, palm, pan, pant, parry, part, pass, paste, pat, peak, peck, pelt, pick, pierce, pile, ping, piss, pit, pivot, plot, pluck, plug, plunge, ply, point, pool, pop, pose, pot, pound, pour, powder, pray, preen, prepare, prey, prick, prickle, print, probe, pry, pull, pulp, pulse, pump, punch, pursue, push, quarry, quarter, quest, race, raise, rake, ram, rap, rasp, rear, retreat, rip, riposte, rivert, roar, rock, roll, rope, round, rouse, run, rush, sap, scale, scalp, scan, score,scream, seek, seep, shake, shape, sharpen, shock, shoot, shop, slap, slap, slash, slice, slick, slip, slit, smash, snap, snare, snatch, snipe, sock, space, spar, spark, speed, spike, spill, spin, spit, splash, spoil, spring, spur, spurt, spy, squirm, stand, steert, step, stick, strap, strike, stuff, suck, support, swat, sweat, sweep, swingm tack, tag, take, target, taste, team, tear, tent, test, thrash, throw, thrust, thud, tick, tide, tilt, time, tire, top, toss, tower, toy, trap, trick, trigger, trip, triumph, trouble, trump, try, tuck, tug, twril, twitch, weaken, wet, whip, whirl, whirr, whoop, whoosh, whop, work, zap, zip.

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[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

fanfic writers: *trying to give their Blorbos a break ✨for once✨ after 100k words of the Blorbos covering in their own blood and whimpering like a bunch of puppies*

their brain cells:

[novlr]

Not all consequences in storytelling must be negative

A consequence is simply something that happens because of an action or event.

So long as an action or event means something within the story, then there is no reason a consequence can’t be something good for your characters. As much as it can be tempting, we don't always need to torture them.

[deific-poetess]

[isalisewrites]

A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part Two

Welcome to my ballsy series where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.

And when I say ‘poor writer,’ I’m talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the overall plot of the books. 

This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.

Part One Link.

Disclaimer for all readers of this series: 

I’m going to sound very confident in my posts where I work under the assumption I’m a better writer than JKR; because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You’re simply witnessing the culmination of over two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn’t just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.

I’m not a perfect writer. No one is. I’m not a talented writer either. I’m experienced and skilled through years of study and practice.

I don’t care about J.K. Rowling. At all.

If you’re triggered by the concept and fact that JKR is a terrible crafter of writing, then you might want to take a step back and self reflect on that personal issue.

I still very much love and adore Harry Potter; you’re still allowed to love Harry Potter.

This is not a series to bitch or bash. This isn’t a shitpost. This isn’t an attack on JKR, no matter the disgusting bullshit she spews forth on Twitter. However, my hope is people awaken to the fact that JKR isn’t the goddess of writing we’ve all been led to believe.

This is a place of study and learning, where the purpose is to help students gain critical thinking skills and writing analysis tools to become better in their craft.

And, sorry, one more disclaimer for this specific post: 

Fanfiction is written for fun and is posted for free. I put most of my effort into my main fanfic, Terrible, But Great. (Yes, I intend to update Moon Rite soon, too) However, I also have two fanfics that are cowritten with another author; thus, the style of Shall I Stay and Badger Prey are understandably different. I spend three to four times the hours to edit a chapter versus drafting it. My process for fanfiction: I draft. I do one expansion edit. I do one proofread edit. I post.

However, if I were to publish a novel where people are expected to drop money on said book, my work flow would be vastly more extensive. To be clear, I’d do all of the following myself. I would not outsource. My process for published novels: I would draft. I would do three to four expansion edits. I would do two to three cutting edits. I would do three proofread edits. 

See the difference?

Because I don’t go through a cutting edit for my fanfiction, I’ll often come back later and see things I think are weak. I’m constantly seeing where I can tighten my work. There’s always room for improvement.

Remember: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is a paperback book that costs $10. My fanfics are free. If I, someone who writes for free and puts what she considers the bare minimum of effort into them, have a higher standard in the quality of my writing than a paid traditionally published novelist, there’s a problem here. 

All right, with that nonsense out of the way, buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. Let’s begin.

Class is in session.

In this post, we’re going to discuss these five pages from HP5 and dissect one paragraph and a line from page 731. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

(My favorite book in the series, btw. I fucking love fifth year the most. JKR did a damn good job with Umbridge.)

Since a certain anon lacked the skill to comprehend the difference between too much dialogue and stories driven by a high saturation of dialogue, let's go into further depth about dialogue.

What did I mean last week when I said: "Too much fucking dialogue!"

Today’s lesson will focus on the overall issue in JKR’s dialogue and in the prose surrounding those dialogue lines.

And since, apparently, I “lack the self awareness” to know most of my fics are “oversaturated with dialogue,” I’m going to use weaker examples of my own writing. Chapter 24 of TBG is heavily driven by dialogue with twenty-one named characters to juggle, something that's very difficult for me to manage. Though the chapter is lovely, I do feel it's some of my weaker work. In the end, I just didn’t have the energy to edit it a second time nor go through cutting edit.

Here are three different pages (some connected, some not) from Chapter 24 of Terrible, But Great. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

You can already see the difference, I'm sure.

So, what’s the difference between a scene that has 'too much fucking dialogue' versus a scene that is highly saturated with dialogue?

Because there is one.

Let's set the scene for HP5. In the middle of an OWL exam, Harry received a vision from Voldemort, showing him that Sirius has been captured. He's being tortured to get something from a shelf, but Sirius refuses. Harry believes the vision is real. He tells Ron and Hermione, then asks for their advice on how to rescue Sirius. Ron and Hermione are both like, pardon, wtf, sir? (As they should be.)

We have five pages of this fight between them. These five pages are mostly dialogue with very little else surrounding it.

Also, note the final page where it has the worst sins of adverb usage. That page is what triggered me to begin writing this series in the first place, btw.

There's too much dialogue here. There's no description. I'm being told stuff, but I'm not being shown anything. There are no emotional anchors to Harry either. The more I reread this scene, the more I realized what was wrong.

There’s an emotional disconnect from Harry in the prose.

Do not misunderstand me: it is NOT to say that Harry isn’t emotional here. It's that the prose doesn’t grip me, the reader, by the chest and twist my heart with his overwhelming emotions. The prose doesn't prove anything, doesn't show me anything. This is an intense, terrifying moment for Harry. It should feel visceral. It should feel tangible. I should be able to taste his fear.

We also don’t get too much information about the emotional states of Ron and Hermione. We have hints, of course. But we can’t feel them. The emotions of the scene are dampened, muffled, dull even.

With an untrained eye, you might disagree. It's okay. You'll see what I mean soon.

Page 731 exact quote:

"I dunno how," said Harry. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven...He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there....He's torturing him....Says he'll end by killing him..." Harry found his voice shaking, as were his knees. He moved over to a desk and sat down on it, trying to master himself.

(Btw, punctuation issue: you do not use an ellipsis and a period together and there should be a space after the ellipsis.)

This is the only instance in the five pages where we get any information about Harry's physical state.

And it's written in such a weak 'telling' instead of 'showing' way, too.

How and where was his voice shaking? How are his knees shaking? Are they knocking together in a weird way that's kind of physically improbable? Or was it actually his legs were shaking? Isn't he leaning against the door? If his weight was resting against the door, then there'd be less shaking in his knees or legs because his knees would be locked to brace his body against the door. His arms and hands would be shaking, though.

How does Harry master himself? What does that look like? Slow breaths? Running a hand through his hair? Rubbing his face and eyes? How is Harry mastering himself? Is it mentally? Then, where are those mastering thoughts? What are they and why do those thoughts in particular help Harry 'master' himself?

What's Harry's tone as he talking about Voldemort threatening to kill Sirius? How is Harry feeling about this? Give me MORE!

The dialogue is presented to the reader in a bland, empty fashion. Harry is relating something to Ron and Hermione. I could switch the dialogue out with anything and it'd still make sense.

There is little surrounding the dialogue to anchor it.

So, let's rewrite this, shall we?

"I dunno how," said Harry, letting out a shaky breath. His hands clenched into fists against the door of the classroom. "But I know where—they're in a room in the Department of Mysteries that's filled with rows of shelves holding these... weird little glass balls. They're in row ninety-seven. Voldemort, he's—" Harry's voice broke. His breath caught in his throat. The memory of the vision returned full force into his mind, the image of Sirius on the floor at Voldemort's feet stark in his mind. He ducked his chin; his chest inhaled in a desperate breath and the edges of his eyes burned. He's torturing Sirius—I can't just wait around. I can't lose him. Harry looked up at Ron, whose face had grown pale, while Hermione stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. The strength in Harry's legs weakened. "He needs Sirius to get whatever it is he wants and he's—" Harry sucked in a gasp, his voice trembling like an autumn leaf in a thunderstorm. "—he's torturing Sirius... says he'll kill him in the end." His knees buckled. Harry stumbled to the nearest desk; Ron reached out with a steadying hand on Harry's upper arm and silent gratitude filled Harry's heart. With shaky arms, Harry lifted himself onto the desk to sit and twisted around to face Ron and Hermione. He licked his dry lips, rubbed his eyes with a hand, and took slow, deep breaths to master his fraying emotions.

The original canon text has 57 words of dialogue with a total of 83 words.

My rewritten version uses 56 words of dialogue with a total of 247 words.

I'm going to drill this concept into your heads, my lovely students: this is what I mean when I keep saying JKR's writing is both bloated and underwritten.

I only rewrote a single paragraph and its following line. The five pages I've provided are filled with this kind of empty dialogue.

So, what have I done here? Can you see the difference? Can you feel the difference?

Let's analyze what I focused on in this scene to show Harry's body language and his thoughts. I upped the physical effects on Harry's body. His fear causes his voice to break in the middle of explaining what's going on. He's terrified of losing Sirius, the only father figure he's ever known. Voldemort might take another parental figure from him. 

And now the prose reflects these feelings, not just in his thoughts, but also in how he speaks and reacts to what is around him. He is not just speaking at the reader.

Harry exists in his world. 

And you can feel it.

When he stumbles to the desk, Ron is there for him. Hermione reacting could also be added here. There is a lot that can be added to this scene, if one wanted to expand this further. 

Yes, what I've done has increased the word count, yet it strengthens this short moment—and I'd do this for the entire scene.

What I did to the scene is merely one version of its potential. It could be rewritten in a multitude of ways and go in various directions. I spent 10mins to 20mins on it. I haven't edited it or refined it.

Can you finally see what I mean now?

If you compare the highlighted pages of HP5 to the highlighted pages of Chp 24 of TBG, you can visually see the difference in the density of the dialogue. JKR is the one whose writing is oversaturated with dialogue. My writing will always be highly saturated with dialogue because my stories are character driven. I prefer stories like that. But I also need the dialogue to be interesting and engaging, where the character feels alive in their world.

When I say there's too much dialogue, this scene is such a good example of this because Harry, Ron, and Hermione are all over the place in their interactions with each other. Yes, you want your characters to sound realistic, but you're also the author curating an experience for the reader.

There's a balancing tightrope act between having realistic dialogue and unnecessary dialogue.

There's a thin line between showing too much and telling too little.

Lastly, if I were to improve the overall scene, I would center the focus on Harry's desperation to rescue Sirius. As Ron and Hermione try to talk him out of it, where Hermione delivers that iconic line of 'you have a people saving thing,' I'd have Harry explode with something like this:

"You don't know what's it like! You both have your parents—I-I don't... You'd feel the same as me if it were either of your parents being tortured by Voldemort, yeah? I can't lose him—I can't lose Sirius."

I'm not bothering with description around it right now. I just wanted to give the baseline dialogue to show you the theme I'd carry through this scene. It's all about Sirius. It's all about the fear of losing him. It's about showing the emotion of the character and making the reader feel that deeply.

And that's what matters the most.

All right then.

We have come to an end of Part Two in this series. We have discussed fives pages in JKR's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The pages in question are 731 - 735 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.

And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.

Until next time.

Isa

[vid-writes]

Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader One Shot

This one shot is absolutely not for anyone under the age of 18.

Word Count: 3,474

TW/CW: Rough sex, sex with a stranger, slight voyeurism, tit fucking, back shots

Satoru was finding it rather hard to stay away from you these days. He wasn’t supposed to be pining over someone who wasn’t a curse user, but watching you work in that high-end clothing store through the window was something of a pastime for him. Your hair was always in a different intricate style every day. Your smile when helping customers was always genuine and reached your eyes. Sometimes, he even heard your laughter peal through the front window when a customer was actually funny, or your coworkers were gossiping to fill the time. He never followed you, never watched longer than a few minutes, but anytime a job brought him to this part of Tokyo, he made sure to stop by. You weren’t his usual tailored clothing store, but he was considering making the change.

The door opened with the soft jingle of the ever-present sleigh bells, and at the same time, Satoru’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Acquiring a new tailor would have to wait for another day, it seemed.

“Go for Gojo,” he said as he answered the phone.

“We need you to get back to the school. Principal Yaga is trying to convince the elders that Itadori is still dead. They’re asking questions again.” Ijichi sounds like he’s one second away from crying. The muffled yelling in the back tells Satoru this is serious.

“I’ll be there in two seconds,” he mutters and hangs up the phone. With a long sigh, he glances at you through the window one last time before vanishing into thin air.

A few days have passed since the last time the sorcerer was in this particular shopping district. Only this time, he was here on purpose and not pure coincidence. He drew in a deep breath as he pulled open the door to the tailor shop. With a vague excuse about an excursion to the other end of the island for the next week, Satoru finally found time to acquire a new tailor. You, to be precise. The familiar soft jingle of the sleigh bells met his ears as he entered the empty shop.

“Welcome to Toshiko’s Tailors; I’ll be with you in just a moment,” calls out a soft voice from somewhere deep in the shop. Satoru pulls off the thick sunglasses he’s wearing and rubs his eyes with one hand. Being able to refresh his brain might always make keeping limitless easier, but sometimes he needed a break. He figured that a tailor shop in this quaint touristy part of Tokyo wouldn’t be too much of an issue. Besides, it’s not like he hadn’t already exorcised all of the curses in this area time and again. Just to keep one particular stranger safe.

“Sorry about the wait,” a soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. He lowered his hand to find you bowed over at the waist. “I was just finishing up this week’s order for more inventory, but I’m all yours now.”

“No need to apologize so formally,” Satoru said as he leaned against the front counter. “I’m just here to take up your time for a few hours. I’ve grown bored with my old tailor and thought I would switch things up.”

You straightened back up, and that pure and genuine smile was already present on your face, “What made you choose this shop in particular?”

“Work often finds me in this area and also often ends with my clothes getting all messed up in some way or another,” he explains as he tries not to study every inch of your body. He’s never been this close to you before.

“Are you planning to overhaul your whole wardrobe as well?” It looks like you might not want to do all that extra work right now, but he wants as much of your time as he can get because he knows any interactions you will have after this will be short.

“Maybe not the whole thing,” Satoru chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck. “I would like a few new outfits, though.”

“Well then, right this way,” you say as you bow again, and he knows because of your training that you won’t straighten back up until he’s walked past. So he stares at your ass until he’s right in front of you. Once he’s passed, he glues his eyes to the wall in front of him and focuses instead on your footsteps. Confident and assured in the heels work requires you to wear.

“The second door on your left is the suite where we take measurements and where you can also try on some of the sample clothes we have available in-house,” you call from a few steps behind him.

“You guys have whole suites for tailoring customers?” He whistles, impressed and irritated with himself that he didn’t come in here sooner. Especially since he can’t get the sight of your ass outlined perfectly by the pencil skirt you were wearing today.

“We have three, actually, but this one is the only one not currently under renovation,” you say as you come around him and open the door for him. Yet again, due to training, you bow, and this time the sight of your ass makes his dick throb in his pants. The suite is almost twice the size of the main entrance, and Satoru finds himself whistling with appreciation again. The whole left wall is lined with mirrors, and on the opposite wall is a dressing room that runs the entire length of the wall. In the middle is a sitting area with tables and couches. Over close to the mirror is a dais.

“You have two options for the measurements,” you say and startle him out of his admiration of the room. “Either we can measure you with the clothes you’re wearing on, and I can adjust the usual few centimeters from there, or you can use the dressing room to strip to your comfort level, though nudity is not allowed, and we can measure you that way.”

Satoru’s dick throbs again. An excuse to be almost naked around you? He was absolutely not going to pass up that opportunity. “I’ll go strip down to my underwear then.”

He turns to the dressing room and walks inside quickly. Before he can try to talk himself out of it, he is stripping off his shirt and jeans. Once, in his boxers, he noticed there might be a slight problem. His dick is rock-hard in his boxers. He tries to will the erection to go away, and when that doesn’t work, he sighs.

After a few minutes of thinking about incredibly gross stuff, Satoru emerges from the dressing room, erection free. You are patiently waiting on one of the steps up to the dais with a measuring tape in your hands. And yup, now he was picturing you wrapping that measuring tape around his dick, and he really needed to stop. He slowly made his way over to the dais, trying his best to look anywhere other than you right now.

Once on the dais, Satoru finds it even harder not to openly stare at the reflection of your ass in the mirror. Its shape was so perfect and round, and he could almost bet you worked out religiously to maintain it that way.

“Arms out to your sides, please,” you politely inquire of him, so Satoru lifts his arms out wide. The measuring tape runs from one wrist to the other, and he watches as you produce a notepad from the inside of your jacket. He takes the time to really study your face now—the shape of your lips, the way your nose curved, how your eyes scrunched at the outside corners as you focused. You were driving this man crazy and had no idea whatsoever.

You took measurements of his torso, arms, and waist so many times he was starting to see this as torture instead of the perverted pleasure he had intended. “You may lower your arms now,” you finally say, and he nearly sighs in relief. Satoru really needed to pick better ways to meet women.

You dropped to your knees in front of him and tapped the outside of his left thigh. With ease, Satoru spread his legs so you could measure his inseam. Your fingers brushed the innermost part of his thigh, and he shuddered. You hesitated in writing the measurement, but otherwise, you maintained composure. As you wrapped the measuring tape around his thigh, Satoru shuddered again, and this time, you looked up at him.

“I get the feeling you’re not being entirely honest about your intentions here, let alone with me,” you said, and he felt every muscle in his body tense. Shit. He had been caught. Just as he opened his mouth to answer you, he noticed your eyes darkening. You moved the measuring tape to his other thigh without taking your eyes off of Satoru’s, and his cock throbbed in his boxers. So much so that not only did he see it, but he knew you had too, by the way you licked your lower lip.

“I know you’ve been watching me for months now,” you started, and he felt the color drain from his face, “and I always wondered when you were going to get up the nerve to come inside and talk to me.”

“Thinking of a valid excuse to not only talk to you but get you into a position where you and I were alone was a lot harder than I thought it would be,” Satoru explains sheepishly.

The measuring tape tightened around his thigh, and Satoru knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back if you gave him the green light. The tape slid from his thigh as your hands abandoned it and instead started to unbutton your suit jacket. Muscles tensed, and breath caught in his throat. Satoru watched the last button come undone and then gasped as your breasts spilled free from the jacket with nothing else underneath it.

“I’ve fantasized about you so many fucking times, so when I saw you come in on the cameras in the office, I took off my top and bra,” you declare as you shrug the jacket off of your shoulders. “Want to help me live out one of those fantasies?”

That was all Satoru needed. His hands dove into your hair, and he pushed his crotch into your face. A moan escaped your lips, so he proceeded to grind his bulge into your face. His hips rutted into your face over and over as his hands held your head firmly in place with fistfuls of hair. After a few minutes of this, he pulled his hips back and looked down at you.

“Are there any chairs in this room,” he asked as he watched you panting a little bit just from him rutting into your face. He was hoping you’d be this slutty and eager.

“No, but I can get the one from the office,” you said breathlessly as his cock throbbed in his pants again.

“Is there anyone else in the shop?”

“No, and what should I call you,” you asked as you cocked your head to the side. He smirked as he pretended to think about it.

“My name’s Gojo, Satoru, but you can call me Daddy.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes. “Go get the chair and lock the front door. Do not cover up.” The red in your cheeks was only outdone by the dark lust in your eyes.

You got up and left the room, making sure the door stayed open. In doing so, you gave Satoru a clear line of view of the front door of the shop. He listened to your still-confident heels click across the floor as your arms hung by your sides. The front door made a loud click, and at the same time, Satoru pushed his boxers off his hips and let them hit the floor.

Satoru grinned deviously as you came back in the room, dragging a chair behind you, and immediately blushed at the sight of his fully erect cock. You brought the chair over to the dais but didn’t put it on the dais. Satoru hummed as he thought about how he wanted to position the chair, but all he did was turn it ninety degrees. Now, he could see you in front of him and in the mirror. He sat down on the edge of the chair and motioned for you to come between his knees.

“Down enough that your breasts are in my lap, I want to fuck them,” he commands. So you lower yourself down until your breasts are resting in front of his cock. It’s an awkward position, but your eyes were locked on his, and your movements never faltered.

“Go on and spit on my cock so it’s wet,” he commands again, so you let a glob of spit slowly leave your mouth and glide down his cock. He groans as you both watch his cock jump from your teasing. You spit on his cock again before grabbing the base and licking up the whole length. Satoru groans again as your tongue laves over his slit a few times, and he buries his fingers in your hair.

After a good few minutes of licking his cock until your spit is running between your fingers freely, you sit back and grab the outsides of your breasts. Without waiting for another command, you lift up and then lower yourself down until his cock is between your tits and sticking out of the top. You squeeze your breasts together tighter and then open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Satoru groans as he watches your drool spill onto your breasts and finally snaps.

“Up until the tip is just barely between your tits, and then I’m going to pound them until your pretty face is painted with my seed,” he growls and lets go of your hair. You slide up until his cock is just pressed between your tits, and then stay still. Satoru moans this time before he starts to slowly thrust up into your tits. He’s still holding back, so you let out the moans you’ve been holding back. With your mouth wide open and drool spilling off your tongue so Satoru’s cock is constantly lubed up, the moans are loud and echo through the room.

His hips drew back and then snapped forward again. Then again. And finally, he was freely fucking your tits. His hips hit the underside hard enough that Satoru knew they would have bruises on them. But he also knew that he would come back tomorrow to soothe those bruises. As his cock throbbed and pounded between your constantly slick breasts, he felt his orgasm coming faster than it had in a while. His hips stuttered and then stopped as his cum spurted out of his cock in thick hot ropes that splattered all over your face, tongue, and breasts. With a loud moan, you swallowed the cum that landed in your mouth, and he groaned again.

“Are you satisfied with your service, or do you still need to be attend to Satoru,” you asked, and his cock throbbed in response.

“Stay here so I can get you something to clean up with,” he said as he slipped out of the chair. He retrieved his shirt from the dressing room and then returned to clean your face off himself. Once it was cleaned off, you opened your eyes, and he could see they were still dark with lust and desire.

“It looks like you still need attending to,” he purred. A shudder ran up your body that made him haul you to your feet and kiss you deeply. His tongue was quick to push between your lips and lay claim to yours. Satoru groaned as the taste of himself mingled with your saliva, and his cock was already hard again. He pulled back from the kiss and stepped away. With a swift movement, he turned the chair back to where the seat was facing the mirror.

“Lose the skirt,” he said as he palmed his cock and stroked it slowly. You pulled the skirt off, and it was just like he suspected you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. How could you when it was such a tight skirt? He pulled you in front of him again and then turned you around and bent you over the back of the chair. Your ass pushed against Satoru’s erect cock, and he moaned again.

“You ready for my cock sweetheart?”

“I’ve been ready for it for months now, Satoru. So please give it to me already,” you whined, and the sound made his cock throb painfully. He was really tempted to make you moan and beg some more, but he didn’t know how he would handle orgasming just from the sounds you’d make. Without any more waiting, Satoru locked his gaze with yours in the mirror as he pushed the head of his cock against your dripping entrance.

Your mouth fell open as he pushed the fat tip of his cock inside of your warm walls, and he growled as your eyes already rolled back in your head. “You might not come out of this the same.”

“I don’t want to,” you moaned as he continued to slowly slide his cock inside of your wetness.

“My cock is incredibly addicting,” he whispered as he finally fully seated himself inside of your warm wet walls. Satoru moaned again as you clenched around his full length and then did so again when your gaze met his in the mirror.

“Ruin me, Satoru,” you commanded him, and he nearly came just from that.

“As you wish,” he purred as he slid his cock back until just the head was resting inside of your pussy. He waited and watched your face until you started to squirm, which only took a few seconds. Then he snapped his hips forward and buried his cock back in you completely. He did this again and again and again. Until you were writing and whining.

“Please, Satoru, give me more,” you whined loudly. He chuckled darkly before he repeated the same motion. Pull out until just the head rested in your walls, wait until you were begging, and then bury himself in one harsh thrust. He could see tears brimming in your eyes and finally stopped teasing.

His his slammed into your ass so fast and demanding that the chair started to scoot across the floor. With a muttered curse, Gojo pulled you up by your hair until he was supporting your weight. He grunted and kicked the chair hard enough that it slid over a few feet. In a quick motion that left you gasping, he hooked his arms underneath your knees and hauled you up until your back was pressed to his chest.

“Oh, you weren’t fucking kidding,” you moaned as he raised and lowered you on his cock with the same speed and harshness as before.

“I really wasn’t,” he whispered as he kissed your ear.

“Fucking cumming,” you whined and clenched tightly around his walls. Then your pussy throbbed over and over and over as your orgasm tried to push him out. But he just kept using your weight to fuck you onto his cock. Your screams of pleasure filled the whole shop as he fucked you through your orgasm. And soon after, he could feel his own coming on.

“I’m about to cum, sweetheart, and I’d hate for my load to go to waste,” he purred in your ear as he continued to fuck you onto his cock.

“I have the implant, so please empty your load into my cunt,” you moaned as you tightened onto his cock more. His arms and hips stuttered as he started to cum, and then stopped as your walls clenched and then throbbed in time with his cock. Your scream from this latest orgasm nearly made his ears ring.

He gently slid you off of his cock and lowered you to your feet. You spun around to face him and then stepped back a few feet.

“Are you satisfied with your service, or do you still need more attention,” you asked him again.

“Oh, I’m satisfied for now, but I will be back for more,” he growled as he looked your naked body up and down and noticed you still had your heels on. You bent over at the waist into your usual bow, and he moaned.

“Then I am glad to have provided your service today and look forward to doing so again as often as you need,” you said, still bent into the bow.

As always please do not copy, or reupload this anywhere. I have plenty of sites where I can upload this to on my own if I choose to.

[legendarytragedynacho]

Sophie Marceau (1989)

[writing-with-sophia]

Fantasy names for characters

Eldrinth: this name carries an air of mystery and magic.

Seraphina: grace and celestial beauty.

Dravenor: strength and darkness.

Lythandra: enchantment and elegance.

Aravon: heroic and noble.

Morgana: mysticism and intrigue.

Zephyrion: connection to the wind and nature.

Valeria: strength and resilience.

Eldric: wisdom and power.

Selene: associated with the moon and its mysteries.

Orion: the stars and the night sky. This is also the name of a famous hunter in Greek mythology.

Aveline: an elegant and refined quality.

Magnus: power and authority.

Elowen: connection to nature and the mystical.

Soren: mysterious and enigmatic nature.

Lumiara: light and radiance.

Asher: resilience and determination.

Morwen: mysterious and enchanting quality.

Evander: noble and heroic nature.

Elara: grace and elegance.

[r0semaryt3a]

Hi, could I please request a collective scenario of the Phantom Troupe going on a first date with their s/o?

And if possible them going to choose a pet (arguably the more chaotic the better, but whoever animal works fine) with their s/o?

Thank you 🥰

Oh absolutely! I’ll admit to it now, these may be a little ooc but still, I love this idea sm. ofc I’m only gonna do Chrollo, Shalnark, Machi, Paku, Feitan and Phinks w the dates (though may return to this at a later date for the others) - p.s this won’t contain spoilers so for that one friend who knows me on here and reads my stuff feel free to read this.

(I’m including Hisoka and Illumi in this because that pet suggestion is perfect!)

Without further ado:

Chrollo

Where you go will just depend on how you know him. You know him from the Troupe? It’s anyone’s guess! Maybe he’ll take you out for the full shabam, maybe you’ll just sit cuddled up: reading. A candle flickering softly beside you as you rest against his chest, his voice echoing through you with every passing page. Your eyes grow groggy and you hear him chuckle, “tired sweetheart?” Your answer doesn’t matter much. You’ll remain where you are. Carefully perched on his lap as you drift off, his fingers playing absentmindedly with your hair. Suddenly, his attention wasn’t really on his book anymore.

Or, maybe you’ll just walk! You know who he is; probably where he came from he sees no reason to put up an act with you. A simple chat will do.

If you know him from one of his many escapades, know the him all dolled up and fake then you’ll probably wind up at a fancy restaurant. He’ll treat you to the works, the full 9*. You’ll be able to indulge in whatever you desire (and hopefully by the end of the night: him. Though his expectations are quite low on that.)

Can’t imagine him being very touchy on a first date, not unless he was properly invested. Like if you knew each other a while and the event wasn’t spontaneous I can imagine him being very cuddly. You’ve agreed to go on a date with him, this will not be the last and he’s certainly going to get what he can out of it.

So, if you’re a target that he’s had his eye on for a while, he’ll put up a gentlemanly front: butter you up. Try his luck as his arm comes to rest against the crook of your back, fingers running small circles agaisnt your hips. You’re practically glued to his side as he looks down at you with that oh so charming smile. Or how he insists on another bottle of wine for you both to share whilst you’re sat at the table, just to watch the way you trip over yourself. Each slurred word sending shivers down his spine. He’ll offer you a hotel in your inebriated state: walking you to your room, keeping you steady. A part of him (an alarmingly large part he notes) wishes to be bold and leave you a souvenir of your night together, the rest of him knows how to play this game. Knows better than that. He’ll leave it be for tonight, no use in moving too fast after all. You’re an investment. One he intends to make worth his while.

Aaaaand if you’re some lucky shmuck: he’ll see how the night goes. Truth be told, he’s using you. You were his pass for whatever caper he happened to be on the night you two met and since then you’ve been simply smitten. He can’t say it’s been a bother, you’re cute by all means considered and don’t impose on his work: so he humoured you. And now, you’re sat face to face as he spins another tale of his grandiose, noble lineage. You were so enthralled in his lies. The night would drag on and before you knew it, a swift peck on the cheek; promise for another and he’d be gone.

In terms of choosing a pet with an S/O Chrollo strikes me as the kind of guy who’d go for a cat. It’s not top docile but not some unruly beast. Plus, there’s the added bonus of letting it wander: it won’t demand attention at every second of the day. Just slink in and slink out every now and then. It’d probably be a stray, he has a tendency to like them more.

If we’re going on terms of expense? Lizards, you’d wind up with a whole bunch of expensive and equally exotic reptiles. A chameleon maybe? Just like him, it can blend into any crowd. A kindred spirit.

Feitan

A date? With him? Really? But why? That’s just a waste of time.

Unlike Chrollo, Feitan doesn’t do outside gigs often and especially doesn’t do anything that would involve getting touchy feely. So, likelihood is you’re a fellow trope member or at least someone who knows him well.

Still. Getting a date with him will be hard.

Obscenely so.

You’ll most likely stay at whatever base the Troupe had made, maybe play a game? Talk?

If he’s feeling up to it he’ll probably steal a fancy Chardonnay and light candles, it’s nothing too special but it’s a nice touch.

If he’s the one to suggest the date however. Oh boy, you best prepare good.

Feitan is an odd soul, he doesn’t really understand that you might not want to start the date with him brutally mangling a chauffeur. But, the rest of the night will certainly make up for that. You won’t be leaving his side: at all, like not once. Don’t even try it. His hand is glued to yours as he drags you through streets. He made an effort tonight, in a suit.

It’s anyone’s guess as to where you’ll wind up, most likely a store you’d expressed interest in, a movie you’d been talking about recently or a restaurant that you liked the food from. Either way it’s free for the both of you.

You may wind up completely alone on a candle lit dinner, flirtatious banter rolling of his tongue in drunken clumps if he loosens up enough (which is a big if)

He’ll bite you at least once throughout the date. Not even because he thought it would be romantic, he just wanted to.

Pet wise? Something small, that he can vary around. Probably a snake or a rodent. He’d say things like “Need violent. Help out.” Then you’ll catch him with his little rat nestled into his hood.

It’s not a pet for the both of you, it’s a pet for him. Which, you don’t really mind afterall it quells his little attachment outbursts

Phinks

Basic. I mean real basic.

He’s nervous as on a first date.

Will talk about himself a lot but he’s not trying to be rude (maybe)

You’ll most likely head out to a restaurant or a movie.

Unlike Feitan, Phinks may actually pay for his meal and the event’s expenses. Give the facade of a normal date and not a robbery.

If you know him from the troupe he probably won’t prioritise keeping up appearances unless you’ve expressed you want a normal night. If you don’t: it’ll be like every teen movie fantasy.

He had protested agaisnt your movie of choice, called it “bland” and talked of there “being so many better options.” But, you swear, with his eyes glued intently on the screen before you; his arm slung over your shoulder, you caught the occasional flicker of a smile.

Pet wise? Dog. This is just a fact, you’re getting a dog. Maybe a Labrador or a Cane Corso? He’s a sucker for loyalty and more than willing to put in the effort of caring for it.

Machi

“A date? But why? We spend enough time together here, don’t we?”

It’s not that she doesn’t want to go on one, she’s just aware that her presence as an on site doctor is important. (And values the money)

She’s perfectly capable of being romantic; this date will show that. When you inevitably get her to cave.

It’ll probably be a cafe, ice cream venue: something small. Unlike the others, she doesn’t try to blow you away with bold or tacky displays. The image will perfectly replicate a domestic scene.

The two of you, sat beside one another on a flimsy outdoor table. You’d ordered milkshakes, similarly to Phinks if you wanted normalcy she’d be more than happy to pay, occasional bouts of small talk drifted between the two of you. Eventually her hand found your own and the small talk fell to teasing, a gentle thumb caressing the back of your hand. “How’s your drink?” The question seemed off in the onslaught of flirtatious remarks, her monotonous front swiftly returning. She hummed at your response. “Want to try some of mine?”

If you refuse, she’ll simply shrug and return to the mismatch mix of small talk and romance.

If you say you do want to however, that’s a different story. She pushes the glass towards you; you lean in -tentatively- to grab it. Nothing much else happens: the flavours meet your tongue and your guard begins to lower. Suddenly, a warmth floods through you, as in a swift motion, Machi planks a kiss on your cheek. It’s nothing big, nothing bold. But, it lasts, a lingering knot in your chest. She’s had the effect she wanted and knows that. It was cute watching you regain composure: keep your guard up, she’ll be testing your reflexes again soon.

Pet wise I’m thinking a scavenger, like a fox or something. She’s not going to get a conventional pet, maybe on your way back home you catch a glimpse of orange? She’s enamoured with the thing in seconds.

Either that or a bird, she’d probably train it to help with her nensticthes. (not that she needs it)

Shalnark

He’s the one to ask you.

The date’s perfect, down to every detail. All tailored to your tastes.

He’s very cuddly during the whole ordeal so best be prepared.

The date itself would consist of a flurry of different activities, all scheduled to fit neatly into whatever time you had. If something were to come up that you seemed particularly fond of, he’d drop the rest. Instead, turning his attention to ensuring you kept on enjoying whatever it was you were both doing.

Shalnark strikes me as the kind of guy to want to go shopping for a date and likely wouldn’t be of shy of this fact. Bringing a small purse (mostly filled with trinkets and not actually money) to elude to his wants.

You’re ending the night with at least 1 set of matching items and him practically glued to you: one arm wrapped around your waste and another occasionally fiddling with loose aspects of your attire, bombarding you with questions: “did you enjoy yourself?” “Ooh, next time we should get XXX.” “Why’d you choose to wear this? Not that I’m complaining, you look stunning, just curious~”

Overall? It’s quite the fruitful experience.

Pet wise: Shalnark doesn’t really care, he’s always wanted to see how well he could look after a fish or rodent of some kind but has also always adored the idea of owning some big, fluffy creature. He’ll most likely wind up looking up pros and cons and running off of that.

Pakunoda

Restaurant date all the way.

Like Shalnark, she’s the one to suggest the idea to you.

She goes all out. And I mean all out. When you first see her, she’s stunning. Hair pristine, brilliant outfit, heels adding to her already towering height.

She’s not shy with compliments, her hand resting in the crook of your arm. Every word is picked with poise, with no doubt on sincerity.

The night is normal all things considered, she’s more than willing to pay and almost bends over backwards to ensure nothing ‘thievish’ happens.

The dinner would be lovely, you can’t help but note the meticulous care placed into every action. The seating giving you just the seclusion she needs to smother you with flirtatious quips. She’s good with her tongue as well, knows every which way, every which syllable to elicit the exact reactions she wants. The night would be one to remember; depending on the status of your relationship, might stay with you a few days longer.

“You like the food, love?” You mumble your response through a mouthful, nodding your head to accentuate your point. This earns a hearty laugh from the woman, “Mhm, I’m glad to hear it.” Her eyes don’t leave your figure for one second. She’d been like that all night, drinking in every aspect of your form, “Have I told you how good you look tonight?” She had, a lot, but the sentiment stood strong nonetheless.

Pet wise? Also a cat. Paku’s just a cat lady I don’t make the rules, probably a long hair. Like a Turkish Angora or Cymric.

Hisoka

Oh boy. Really? I mean, really?

It’s your funeral and I’m not even certain I can say that figuratively.

The date is anyone’s guess. Could be a restaurant or it could be something obscene like rock climbing, rollerblading, go karting. Whatever it is, it won’t be boring.

He’ll pick an activity that forces proximity, you’re going to be close for the whole night. A means of bonding if you will.

Hisoka thrives on attention and watching skill in action, so his ideal date would encompass both of those qualities. On one hand, you’re both pressed up against one another, full reign to do what you’d like (within account of public decency of course) and on the other, you’re showing exceptional stamina and strength in keeping up with him.

No shortage of flirting here folks, every other word will carry some lewd innuendo you’re sure not to miss.

By the end you’ll definitely have some marks on you, whether from him or the date itself is 50/50. If it is from the date’s activities however, he’d always be open to remedy that.

“I have to say, I’m quite impressed you know.” The words were hardly audible from your positioning, you were far more focused on keeping yourself upright anyhow. “If I’d have known you were this capable I would’ve suggested another activity.” There’s an underlying threat to his words, yet somehow the compliment (if you could call it that) leaves a pink hue upon your cheeks.

Pets. Hmmm, pets. Hisoka would need something that wouldn’t settle down, wouldn’t rely on routine so most domestic animals are off the table for him. Things that need specific conditions would also be a no. Overall Hisoka needs something that can keep up with his sporadic lifestyle, otherwise he’ll leave it behind. Which really leaves very little options on the table.

But, there’s a chance something might sweep him off his feet and I’d be willing to bet that’d be a spider or reptile of some kind, something that he knows could and would kill him. The thought of snakes and their incapability to love would probably excite him.

Illumi

Boring.

Very, very, very boring.

He does everything he’s meant to and I mean that he tick every little box. There’s no excitement here unless he has a job or someone does something.

And oh boy, you better believe you’re not walking out of there without at least something to show of it.

He is rather gentle with you, if it weren’t for his overall aloof demeanour you may be prone to calling it endearing. Overall, Illumi would be a rather: interesting case. Unless you somehow sparked something in him you’d probably be best holding off on the dates for a while. But hey! You tried right?

Pet wise, why would he need another? He has Mike. It’s a little too much responsibility with how much he moves around, though if he had to chose it’d probably be a rabbit. Why? He couldn’t say, has just always been drawn to them.

This is like my first time writing any of these characters other than Chrollo so I hope I did them justice-

[v-67]

Just Luffy being all cute cute

Look at that cheek, and those eyes.

And idk man, I was just really happy to see Law

[writers-potion]

𝕾𝖔, 𝕷𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝖂𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝕱𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌.

Here are some ideas to let your fight scene sizzle with romantic tension even while daggers are flying about.

Hand-to-Hand Fighting

Make it an unarmed 1:1 combat where physical approxiamation is a must, and where the two are totally aware of the other's body. Use this to encompass erotic awareness.

Use fighting styles that require close touch, like grappling, rolling around on the fllor in a tight clinch.

You you're writing erotica, you can add a touch of BDSM by using the power play.

Daggers

The dagger is a weapon that is often personal and intimate, as it requires the attacker to be close to the target. When the dagger penetrates the flesh, the hand almost touches the victim.

This is very different from weapons like the gun, arrow or spear which can kill at a distance.

In addition, the motion of sliding the dagger into or out of the sheath can be highly suggestive. It gives you room to play with your words or insert suggestive dialogue

Male Fantasies of Female Fighters

Men can be turned on by watching females fight. If your heroine is a martial artist and the hero has a taste for warrior women, erotic tension immediately ensues.

Catfights that involve young, healthy women battling each other for monetary prizes exist. A nastier version of these clubs will involve women who are forced: abducted girls, vitims of human trafficking. These are good for giving your heroine a dark past or adding a thriller element.

Another fantasy can be about men fighting the women, rather than watching them fight. If the heroine also happens to have a taste for violence, they can batter one another happily ever after. More often, the man will pay the woman to fight him.

This happens at an agency or a 'wrestling studio' which employs part-time feamle wrestlers. The client will pay per hour and pick the girl. Nothing sexual goes on, except in the man's minds and his boxers - they will fight fully clothed with a staff member overseeing as referee (chaperone, essentially).

Many of these men who pay to fight will want to lose - being submitted by a woman is a part of their fantasies. They can be gentlemanly, courteous and considerate men at work - which can serve as good hero material.

Female Fantasies of Male Fighters

Women can have similar fantasies where they take pleasure in seeing men take each other on. If the men wear sleeveless vests or fight shirtless, this gives you the opportunity to describe their muscles, sweat and other details.

If your heroine has BDSM tendencies, you can depict her imagining what it would be like to be submitted by the men she watches, although her desire wouldn't really be to fight the man.

On the other hand, the woman's experience watching somene she cares about (a brother, lover, husband) fight will be more emotional than physical.

Post-Fight Horniness

Genuine fights aren't horny, but fighters may get horny afterward when the hormones and intense tension wear off.

So this gives your the excuse to show your professional assasin hunting for a hot date after work. Or let your hero feel unexpected attraction to his comrade after they've pushed through a particularly difficult battle.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

WRITING RESOURCES

LIST OF INJURIES SOMEONE COULD OBTAIN IF THEY WERE SEXUALLY ASSAULTED

(trigger warning is applied.)

fractured pelvis (if their body was bent against a desk, a car, or something with hard surfaces)

ligature marks around their neck

bruises on their arms, thighs, legs

abrasions on their cheek (if their face was pressed against concrete floor)

urinary tract infection

blood in stool, blood in urine

lacerations around and/or inside the genitalia

[novlr]

I've often heard the writing advice to "start late, leave early" but I have no idea what it means. Can you help?

In essence, all that "start late, leave early" means is to enter enter a scene as late as possible, and exit it as early as possible.

It's a technique that streamlines storytelling and comes from screenwriting. It keeps the narrative tight, audience engaged and the plot moving along at a brisk pace.

Like with any writing advice, it's something you'd use at your own discretion, but for novels essentially what it means is not to bother with endless background and info dump before action happens. It prevents overwriting, and unnecessary exposition. We go into more detail in today's Reading Room post, so check it out!

[write-on-world]