#and you forced yourself to make edits of it

[cvnt4him]

Hold on ..... Bc katsu fucking you in izus bed?!!

It wasn't on purpose.....initially. you n katsuki had a couple of drinks together in the yuei college dorm house, eventually one thing led to another and you found yourself fondling each other's body through sloppy spit filled kisses and sweaty movements trying your hardest to get each others clothes off. Within an instant of stripping you of your close he turned you around and pushed your face into the pillows. He fucked you roughly from behind, not much prep due to him being extremely horny. The gutteral groans he let out the second his cock entered your walls were perfect. You could tell which each thrust he was losing more of his composure, his control. This big tough act he out of was falling. Soon the groans turned into stifled moans and small carefully muffled mewls. his hips piston into the back of your ass with such heavy force. He felt the edge coming quicker than expected, katsuki hated when he got like this he could never hold back. He lifted his foot onto the bed and thrusted into you with so much force. The wind was literally knocked out of your lungs, you were gasping but it's as if the air left as soon as it came in. Katsuki had a hand placed on your lower back slightly on your ass while the other held your head down with a terrible grip, your head was beginning to hurt but how could you begin to care when you had a soon to be pro heros cock inside of you?! Katsukis motions were getting sloppy, his thighs flexing and slightly quivering as he chanted in his mind not to cum just yet, his forehead was sweaty and the hot breaths you both let out were moistening the air. Katsuki soon began to speed his thrusts up once again, making the entire bed shake. The faster he moved the rougher his thrusts got, the back of your thighs and ass were sure to be red, not to mention the fact he'd been gripping your ass cheek terribly hard.

“ fu- fuck...”

His small words were breathy yet strangled, you could hear the way he was holding back. His thick and veiny hand brang a harsh slap onto the flesh of your ass, not just one however. Soon it was two, then three, then four and so much more. He couldn't stop, the slight jiggle of your ass when he hit it triggered something in him. He had his eyes squeezed shut when you two first started in hopes of not cumming, but when he seen your ass bouncing back against him without his help, the way you were just ass needy for him as he was you... Fuck how could he not cum inside?

You two cleaned yourselves up, slightly sobering up after the liquids you two ended up losing. He sniffled before standing and taking notice of his surroundings. His slightly blurry eyes blinking away the tears that wettened his eyes. Katsukis eyes widened before he realized...... That was dekus room..... He looked around at every little detail of the room before his eyes landed on a limited edition super rare or wtv all might card that was preserved in a card slip thing to keep it clean n unbent n shit. It looked u touched and so beautiful, identical to the same one katsuki had....

Katsuki looked down at you and how your legs were slightly shaking, you were sitting on dekus bed cleaning the sticky messing between your thighs with some random blue shirt. You threw it on his bed before standing and leaving without a word. Katsuki gulped and walked out behind you. Hopefully the dimwit wouldn't notice......

Oh but did he. Three days after the party izuku finally decided to go back to his dorm instead of staying at his girlfriends, he mostly just went for some more clothes to take back to ochakos but whatever. He walked into a cold but not so empty room grabbing what he needed and heading towards the door before he realized.....the display he had up over his bed was all messy, the allmight bobble head's were slightly out of place and his other nicnacs were knocked over aswell, somewhat out of place. He hummed of disapproval before heading towards his bed to fix it. Once fixed he looked at his bed that was rather messy aswell...he knew he didn't leave it like that. So, who did? He looked at the crinkled all might shirt that he normally wears to bed and smiled. That was the shirt he'd wanted to wear. His face contorted in a confused way at the feeling of the fabric, it was rather weird. It wasn't as soft as it usually is once washed. He hadn't worn the shirt in a while though, how could it be dirty? He gave the shirt a quick smell before throwing it out of his hands and shivering. It smelled of a familiar smell....for the most part, bodily fluids.

Explaining this story to a couple of the guys he shared classes with they all laughed at the poor green haired boy who regretted not just staying in his room the night of the party. Katsuki however was trying his hardest not to laugh through the small tinge of guilt he felt. It wasn't HIS fault, maybe izuku shouldn't have left his dorm door u locked.

[pentechnics]

Can't Get Enough

pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader rating: E | explicit | 18+ only word count: ~1,200 tags: nsfw, hate sex, angry sex, penetrative sex, throat/breath play, rough sex, multiple orgasms, angst, reader and din hate each other yet can't get enough, din makes you sad, no physical descriptions of reader, no y/n

notes: This isn't my usual style, but I just kinda had to get some stuff out. Not really edited or fully flushed out, for that matter. But hopefully posting something new will help me get further in my other work! I have something due for the d20 writing challenge and I am so sorry that one hasn't happened dfghjsfkl

taglist under the cut❤️

He slammed you against the wall with a loud thunk.

Your throat was sore from exertion, your pulse quickening with each groan he released.

His hand found your neck again and held tight, forcing you to look into that visor and see your own lust-blown gaze reflected back at you.

Fuck, he pissed you off. He got to see you like this, but you didn’t. Every time you two wound up like this, it felt like another charge added to an invisible tab. Like he owed you something, because you always gave him everything.

The thought was brief, soon vanquished by another angry thrust, pain and pleasure melding together and turning your brain to mush.

You peered in deeper, willing his eyes to show themselves. You channeled every ounce of mental energy you had left into him – how much he hurt you, how angry he made you. How angry you were at yourself to have given into this again.

And why? Nothing ever changed. He’d come over, both of you would be pissed as all hell, take it out on each other, and then he’d leave. Neither of you walked away feeling any better.

… You never stopped to wonder why he kept coming back. It took two to keep this up, after all. You sucked on his thumb when he stuck it in your mouth, wrapping your legs around him to bring him deeper into you.

You hated this. You hated that it always came down to this for you to feel something. Ever since the two of you broke up you’ve been searching for something, but hell if you knew what it was.

You hated that he was still your answer. You surely didn’t love him anymore, but you hated that you still needed him.

Especially because he doesn’t need you.

He rammed into you, deeper and deeper, sending you into convulsions. You screamed into the humid air, grasping at his shoulders for dear life.

His own cries followed, a loud ‘fuck’ echoing into the darkness. He pried you off the wall and threw you down on the bed, putting the full force of his weight into each delicious stroke.

You couldn’t help the whines that spilled out of you. He had a way of dragging out every single sensation until you were drowning in it all. Drowning in him.

It was infuriating.

You pulled yourself up to his shoulder, kissing and biting at his salty skin. A gorgeous, vindicating sense of pride soared through you when he let out a whimper. 

You liked to think you were the only one who could make him do that.

It made him pound harder into you. Your bite matched, his skin muffling your screams.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you panted.

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

“Good.”

He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. Swears piled out of you. Your heart was pounding, your blood on fire. He had the nerve to fucking chuckle.

“You like that, don’t you?”

 “Bastard.”

He did it again. You wailed.

“Shit,” he whispered.

Any wittiness he had was gone. His pace became manic, one goal in mind. Your eyes rolled back as he continued to ram his cock against your g-spot.

“Close your fucking eyes,” he growled, pressing a hand over them.

The sensations grew stronger without the distraction of sight. Especially after hearing the familiar hiss of his helmet and feeling the subsequent mouth on your neck.

Your moan echoed around you both. Your hand came up to press against his head.

“Din-“

Your orgasm erupted without warning. He used his hold on your head to press you into the mattress, fucking you through it without relent.

“Yes, keep coming, baby.”

Wave after wave of pleasure had your legs flailing and your back arching. Stars appeared before you. The onset of tears built up behind your eyes.

“I’m not fucking done,” he mumbled.

His free hand began to swirl your clit. You thought you couldn’t scream any louder, yet he proved you wrong.

Your muscles tensed up all over again, that sweet coil threatening to break with each tiny movement.

“You better fucking come again,” he said through gritted teeth, like he was holding himself back.

The combination of thrusting and tight circles on your clit had you coming undone again with ease. Your second release was stronger, your body’s convulsions all the more erratic.

But he didn’t stop.

His hand left your eyes to grip your hips, and you had to fight with yourself to keep from looking at him.

“One. More.”

He pulled you to the edge of the bed and dragged you onto his cock over and over. The new angle was steeper, hitting something deeper inside that you weren’t aware existed.

“Oh god,” you sighed. “Right there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whined.

He let out a groan and picked up the speed. You threw your arm over your eyes, afraid you wouldn’t be able to control yourself for much longer.

His breath was labored, accentuated with deep heaving. He wasn’t going to last much longer, which meant—

“Runnin’ out of time, baby, you better give me one more.”

You squealed with each pulse of contact with your g-spot, but his words made a bead of annoyance interrupt your trance.

No, you thought. You’re not gonna get what you want this time.

You squeezed your muscles, clenching his cock tighter between your walls.

“FUCK,” he shouted. “Feels so good-”

His grunts were too much to bear, each one scratching that sweet spot in your brain that went straight to your pussy, but you had to hold back. He had to break first. You gripped the sheets with your free hand and clenched your jaw, desperate to keep the impending third orgasm down.

His grip on you tightened.

“Oh, fuck you,” he spat.

“You already are, dumbass.”

You didn't recognize the graininess of your own voice. But what came after told you it worked.

He leaned over you and continued the rapid pace, both of you moaning into the air just before coming in a heap of screams and roars.

He buried his head beside yours as he rode out his pleasure, taking yours with it.

He eventually slowed to a stop, standing back up and taking care to pull out the condom with his spend without spilling, just as he did every time.

You heard the plop of it getting thrown in the trash before he leaned over you once more, caging in your frame with his arms.

“Look at me.”

“I haven’t heard the helmet-”

“Look. At me.”

Even through his labored breathing, his voice was unwavering. He put his hands on either side of your face, forcing your gaze to meet his when you did peek your eyes open.

The tiny amount of air that had replenished in your lungs was gone.

He was a vision: skin glowing with sweat, eyebrows scrunched with a crease in the middle, sharp cheekbones and a hooked nose…

… But those fucking brown eyes. They were just downright unfair.

You put your hands over his wrists to keep his hold in place. A glimmer of hope dared to emerge in your head – is he letting you see him because he actually did care? Was there still something in him that loved you?

But then he let out a deep chuckle. Your heart broke all over again.

Why’d I even bother?

“You’ll never get enough, will you?”

You gulped. It always came down to this. But this time, you’d seen the truth.

Not only was this his last playing card, but you had a winning hand.

A confident grin bloomed across your face, the satisfaction already tasting so sweet now that you got to say this directly to his actual face. You’d get to see that smug expression die.

You’d get to finally be the one to let him down.

“Neither can you.”

****

taglist: @booksarekindaneat @bluemacaron @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @whataenginerd @girlofchaos @christina-loves @literallydontlook @the-little-ewok @salome-c @dear-fifi @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @keldabe-kriff @kurlyfrasier @booksaremyyoga @elegantduckturtle @artsymaddie

[asharasasylum]

A Heavy Hand

authors note: this is another fic i've manage to find from my old blog and edited for a repost. my first dark rafe fic so i hope you all like. warnings: non con. dub con. step-cest. degrading. smut. 18+

Rafe's hand on your thigh was heavy, impossible to get off no matter how many times you had tried. It wasn’t like you could make a scene at the dinner table with so many people around, Rafe would only find a way to weasel himself in a lie to your parents. 

Normally they would believe you over him but lately you had been acting up, hanging out with the wrong crowd of people and Rafe had been the one to rat you out to your parents.

After everything with Sarah, your mother was livid to find out you had been hanging around the cut. But your step dad, it had cut his already open wound deep to think he could have another daughter that would abandon him in his time of need. You were house bound until they knew they could trust you again, making Rafe the main person to watch over you. 

He seemed to be awfully happy about that. His lips had twisted into a smirk when your parents turned their backs away. The same one that adorned his face now as his hand shifted a little higher up your bare thigh.

You had to clamp your thighs together, crossing your legs over to make sure Rafe couldn't go any further. With that the smile dropped from his face, his face turning to you now with an uneasy stare. He didn't seem upset, no his expression seemed like he was challenging you as he leaned in closer.

"I'm going to need that hand back if I'm going to eat," Rafe whispered, raising his eyebrows at you.

There was no arguing that so with a slight bit of hesitation you unwrapped your legs, giving him the room to move his hand away. But of course you shouldn't of trusted Rafe because the second he had space, his hand slipped higher, pinky finger grazing the fabric of your underwear.

"Rafe," you yelped, thighs clamping down again.

"Y/N," Ward called across the table, looking over to the pair of you. His tone was stern and his glare was heavy as if he was warning you to not to act out of line again.

"We were just messing around," Rafe was quick to reply, playing the best older brother. One you had never seen in your years of growing up around him. "It was my fault, Dad." 

Ward brushed it off, nodding his head and turning back to his guests.

"That didn't go well for you," Rafe's voice was low as he spoke against the shell of your ear. "Going to have to start behaving a bit better if you want them to trust you again."

"Go to hell," you hissed at him, digging your nails into the flesh of his hand, hoping to pry it away.

All you did was make it worse for yourself, hoping by parting your legs slightly you would be able to force his hand away but instead he used it to his advantage. His hand cupped your covered pussy, rubbing his fingers over the material for a second, before finally pulling away. But the second was long enough to see the way your lips parted in gasp at the invasive touch. 

It was also enough for that smirk to be plastered on Rafe's face all over again. As if he had won some sort of game, that you didn't realise you had been playing.

"Aren't you happy to have a little bit of freedom?"

"It's not really freedom when I'll be hovering around you and your dick head friends all night," you retorted, rolling your eyes.

Rafe was amused by your response, it seemed he was amused by everything you did these days. The sort of amusement he derived from having some sort of control over you and your life.

You wanted to be anywhere but in his truck driving to the beach with him. But Rafe had somehow convinced Ward that under his supervision you would be fine out and about. He'd make sure not to let you out of his sight, he had swore to that.

"Fresh air, the ocean, drinks," Rafe listed, tapping on the steering wheel. "Isn't that what the sort of things Pogues like?"

"I'm pretty sure everyone from Outerbanks likes those things, Rafe," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "It’s just I don't think some enjoy it so much when they’re being monitored by their older brother who they don't get along with."

"Step-brother," Rafe was quick to snap, tone icy as he glared at the road ahead.

"Your dad is married to my mum so legally we are siblings," your voice picked up, finally ready to let your weeks worth of rage out on him. "Step siblings or not it doesn't give you the right to touch me the way you have."

"Acting like you don't like it," Rafe sneered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

You barely heard him and as much as you were gearing yourself up to yell at him some more, to get him to repeat what he had just said, he was quick to cut you off.

"No running off today," Rafe barked at you with a pointed finger like you were some dog. "In my line of sight at all times. A Pogue even looks in your direction and you come stand by me. Understand?"

You didn't even dignify him with a response, rolling your eyes once again.

But Rafe wasn't here for your attitude and he made that clear by pinching your cheeks with his hand and twisting your face towards him. "Understand?"

"Yeah," you nodded, voice faltering at his stern tone. "Whatever."

Rafe took a second before letting your face go, holding you in place for a moment as he took in the sight of your body. You felt a cool shiver across your body at the way Rafe checked you out, his jaw clenching once it reached where your skirt cut off at your thighs.

"Pretty thing," Rafe commented, not giving you a moment to respond as he hopped out his truck.

You hated the way he called you that as if you were some sort of play thing he already had in his pocket. But more importantly you hated the way it made you feel, heat flooding your body at the words.

At all times of the night there were eyes on you, if they weren't Rafe's eyes, they were Topper's or Kelce's. You were sure he had told them of your rendezvous with the other side of the island, making it clear you were to be watched at all times.

It was no use anyway with Rafe so close no Pogue dared to step within a hundred metre radius of your spot. Which you hadn't really minded anyway, spending most of the time drinking with a few friends you had gone to school with.

The party even seemed enjoyable for most of the night, everything going smoothly even with Rafe's eyes staring daggers into your back. Until you broke his rules, slipping away for a second to get a refill on your drink.

You hadn't really been thinking when you tried to search down another keg, not even realising that you had slipped away from Rafe and his friends when you finally found one still in use. No you didn't realise until a familiar warm smile came into sight, arms wrapping around you without even giving you a chance to register they were there.

"I've missed you so much," Sarah gleamed, pulling you tight into her chest. "I didn't know when I would see you again."

You reciprocated the hug, glad to see your sister after a few weeks of no contact. Happy to know that she was still doing somewhat alright.

"I've missed you too," you replied, finally letting go over each other.

"Why haven't I seen you in ages?" Sarah asked, genuinely concerned as her eyes widened at you.

"I'm house bound mostly," you told her, frowning at the subject. "Courtesy of Rafe." It was only then did you realise you had stumbled away from him, eyes darting round not able to see him anywhere. "Fuck."

"Hey, you know you really should be careful around Rafe," Sarah's voice was shaken, fearful as she spoke. "He's dangerous."

"He's psychotic, I'll give him that," you laughed, not bothering to look around for him anymore. "And I sure bet he's going to have a field day when he finds me here."

"No, seriously Y/N.” Sarah's hand grips onto your wrist harshly, bringing your attention back to her. "You shouldn't be anywhere near him."

"You sound crazy, Sarah," you told her, eyebrows furrowing at her fearful state. "What happened?"

There wasn't enough time to answer when the rest of her friends showed up behind her. They gave you a small smile but John B was quick to place his hand out for Sarah to take.

"Let's go," he said, pulling her away.

"Well bye then," you waved her off, scoffing at the way they all just walked away.

An uneasiness settled in your stomach as you made your way back to where Rafe might still be, your drink long forgotten once you finally reached him.

You didn't know how to read Rafe when he found you, his body tense once he reached you. But there was a cool demeanour about him, a sort of façade you were sure he was putting up as he stood before you. 

"Truck, now," he snapped, placing a hand on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd.

You didn't even know what to prepare yourself for when you got back to the car, but when you were out of sight of the crowd you weren't surprised when Rafe gripped onto your arm to drag you back to the truck.

"You really can't follow simple rules.” Rafe's tone was something you never had heard before and at first you really couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. "Have to wander off to go find some Pogue to open your legs for? I bet you love being a little slut for them, huh?"

"I am not a slut," you yelled at him, slapping against his chest with your hand. "It wasn't even like that."

"Tell me exactly what it was like. Tell me how it took you like three drinks to go in search for some attention like the whore you are." Rafe gripped onto you harder, as if the thought of it was making him angrier. "I bet that's all you need some dick and some attention, then you won't go crawling back to your beloved Pogues."

"It isn't like that," you screamed, feeling yourself become choked up from the comments he was making. You didn't even know why you felt such a need to defend yourself against him.

It was only as his icy blue gaze fell on you that you finally pinpointed the reason behind the venom that he was spitting from his mouth. It was jealousy, the thought of you being with someone else but not just anyone, a Pogue. At first you thought his attempts at groping you inappropriately or looking at you in certain ways was just another way to amuse himself by winding you up. But no, he really wanted you. And his next actions proved it even further.

"Get in," Rafe commanded, throwing the back car door open and shoving you inside.

You didn't even protest against him, scattering to the other side of the seats. You hadn't even thought why he had placed you in the back, not even questioned it until his hands started to unbutton his shorts in front of you.

He couldn't really be doing what you thought he was doing, there was no way. You were still parked up by the beach, away from the crowd but anyone could still walk or drive up beside you.

"What are you doing?" You asked, face completely dropping when he started to climb in beside you.

"Seeing as Dad and Rose's punishment clearly isn't working, I think it's time for me to make my own," Rafe seemed so sure about the words that fell out of his mouth, closing the door behind him. "Maybe then you'll listen."

"Rafe, you're joking right?" You were still in disbelief, bringing your knees up to your chest to shield yourself away from him. "You got your message across, okay? I won't go anywhere near the cut again."

"Those words are like sweet music to my ear," Rafe grinned from ear to ear, yanking you down by your foot. He pinned you down to the back seats, body hovering over you as he pulled his t-shirt off. "But I need you to mean them and right now I don't think you really mean them."

"This is too far even for you." Tears brimmed your eyes as you looked up at him, shaking your head for him to stop.

"Too far," Rafe scrunched his face up as if contemplating the idea in his head. "I think this punishment is perfectly acceptable." He leaned down, holding your hands above your head with one hand. "I think someone needs to fuck the traitorous brat out of you. Give you the attention you seem to fucking need so badly."

"Rafe-"

Your protest was swallowed with his lips on yours, in a hungry kiss. He nibbled at your lips when you didn't kiss back or open your mouth for him and when that didn't seem to work, he bit onto your bottom lip hard, making you yelp and open your mouth for him.

He had drawn blood, you could taste it when his tongue slipped into your mouth and you think the whole thing seemed to turn him on even more as he pressed up against you. 

You felt slightly docile after he was done kissing you, too busy trying to regain your breath to fight off his next move.

"Pretty thing," he seemed to admire you from above, slipping his free hand across your body. It grazed your subtle skin, fingers dancing around the edges of your clothes, taking a second before slipping your bikini top off with ease. "Fuck so pretty."

He was in a trance at the sight of your tits, admiring the way your nipples had pebbled. It shouldn't have been a shock to you when his mouth latched onto one of them but you couldn't help but yelp as you felt his wet tongue lick at your nipple. You even had to fight back a sigh at the feeling, grinding your teeth together to keep any noises of pleasure at bay.

Once you got your breath back you were able to speak again but when you opened your lips, the noise that slipped out worked against you as Rafe grinded his hips against yours, eliciting a small whimper from you.

"That's my good girl," Rafe spoke into the skin of your breasts.

"Rafe, stop this isn't right," you told him, trying to wriggle free. All you did was rub against him, enticing him even more. "We can't do this."

All that Rafe did was laugh at you, grinding slightly harder into you as he marked up your chest. Once he seemed satisfied he lifted himself up slightly, enough for you to sit up and try to slip away from him but Rafe had other plans. With one hand he shoved you back against the seats with ease, then in one swift movement he tore your panties off of your legs, throwing them onto the floor somewhere.

Then he was on top of you again, his body heavy on yours as he made himself comfortable between your legs. Your attempts to push him and slap at him did nothing to throw him off, it only seemed to egg him on as his hands pulled his shorts and boxers down.

"Rafe, please," you were crying, tears streaming down your face.

Rafe ignored your pleas as he wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few strokes before he lined himself up. He hissed at the wetness that met the tip of his dick, spreading it across your folds as he started down at it in complete awe.

"Fuck, you're so wet baby," Rafe cooed into your ear, flicking over your clit so gently with his dick.

You couldn't stop the whimper that fell from your lips or any of the other noises when Rafe finally slid into your walls. There was no fight in you left after that, your hands grabbed onto his shoulders for stability instead of slapping him away. Your lips fell open to let out soft moans instead of pleas for him to get away.

Rafe grinned in triumphant at how easily you succumbed to him. He made sure to bury himself deep inside of you with each slow thrust, his tip brushing a part of you that you didn't know anyone would ever be able to reach. With every thrust he had your walls clenching around him, dripping like they never had before.

You wanted to say something, to tell him this wasn't right and hold your ground a bit more but you couldn't. With every roll of his hips he had you panting and whining, mind becoming fogged as you became cock drunk from it. And you could tell he was loving every second of it.

It was in the way he drank in your vulnerability with his eyes, finding himself going faster so you could cling onto him just that tiny bit more. His eyes were so dilated you could barely see the blue, it was all too clouded by the darkness that was Rafe. He winked when he noticed you looking up at him, taking it as a sign to get closer to you as he pressed his forehead against yours.

There was an intimacy in this that you weren't expecting from Rafe, in his stares and the way he sometimes brushed his lips against yours. It was confusing, something you really couldn't think about in the moment but you were grateful for it. Grateful that he wasn't being completely cruel.

"Rafe," you were breathless as he pushed a stray hair of yours behind your ear.

"You're so perfect when you're just like this," Rafe groaned, taking your legs from the side of him. He pushed them down and in between the pair of you, having your ankles dangling by your head. With this angle he was reaching in deeper, making your eyes roll back at the feeling. "So at peace beneath me."

"Rafe,” you choked.

A hand of yours reached out to push him away, finding it over stimulating as he pushed into you with no mercy. He could see you opening your lips again and not knowing if he would like what was about to come out, he shut you up the best way he knew how. As he rolled his hips into you, hard and set a brutal pace that had your nails digging into biceps for stability.

"Wait- uh," everything that left your mouth from there was incoherent to both of you, even his name wasn't pronounced properly as he fucked his rage into you.

You couldn't even help the way you were soaking him, walls sucking him in and squeezing him to keep him there. He could sense how close you were with your eyes fluttering shut and your thighs shaking. He wanted to push you there, to watch the way your face contoured as he pushed you over the edge.

But you were closing your eyes and he couldn't have that. His hand wrapping around your throat making your eyes spring open, bringing your attention back to him and grounding you a bit.

"Eyes on me princess," Rafe let out in a growl, squeezing his hand in a slight warning. "Got it?"

Eagerly you nodded even though your vision grew blurry with each second.

"You going to cum for me?" Rafe asked and you were honestly surprised how he could be so focused on you. With the way you were feeling, you could barely focus on anything.

"Yes," you managed to get out, feeling your cunt start to twitch around him.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment at the noises you made when you finally came, pussy fluttering around him. Your back arched up into him and you struggled to keep your eyes open. But you managed and you could tell Rafe was thankful, especially with the way his mouth hung open at your expressions.

He wasn't far behind, unable to hold back with the way your pussy clamped down on him, milking him of all his cum. He didn't even bother to pull out, painting your walls instead with every drop of cum he could get out. His pace grew sloppy, finally coming down giving you space to breathe as he collapsed on top of you.

It took you some time to get back to reality and Rafe sensed it as soon as your body tensed underneath him.

"We shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have done that," you told him, voice still shaky. "This has really gone too far."

Rafe snorted at that, pressing a peck on your neck before resting his head against yours.

"I think I should tell dad." You didn't know what had come over you in that moment, his dick was still buried in you and you knew that nothing could make you muster up courage to ever speak this to your step dad.

"He wouldn't believe you," Rafe chuckled darkly, a venom in his tone that you knew so well. "I think he'll take my word when I tell him you were just slutting it out for some stupid Pogue."

"You're awful."

"Anyway you wouldn't want to tell dad. Not when you want me to fuck you just like that again."

Rafe finally moved, sitting up from his position to look around for his clothes. You noticed the mess you had made all over him, your wetness coating him, even dripping onto the seats below. You were mortified at the sight of it and how badly you wanted to do it again.

As if he could feel you staring at him, Rafe turned to look at you. A smug smile over his lips at the sight of you cowering in the corner of his truck.

"So, round two here or back at the house."

"Fuck you."

With that Rafe's hand was tugging at your hair, yanking you towards him until you positioned yourself in his lap. He didn't care how you yelled at the pain, only cared about the way his cock was springing to life once again.

"That's not a nice way to talk to your older brother," He tutted, releasing his grip on your hair.

"You're so messed up."

"Does that make you messed up too?" Rafe pushed his tip along your folds again and you couldn't help but wince at the sensitivity of it. "Seeing the way you just came on my cock."

All you could do was whine in response as he guided your hips down on his length. You knew it shouldn't be happening again but you knew there was no way you were going to stop him.

"And I really want to see you cum again."

(Dividers by @cafekitsune and @k1ssyoursister)

[belladonnasmenagerie]

Slashers being hit with sex pollen-Texas Chainsaw Edition

This is a new series I’ve been wanting to do on how each slasher reacts to being hit by an aphrodisiac.

!!🔞NO MINORS ALLOWED🔞!!

Synopsis: They try to get you some flowers from a near by field full of wild flowers and the pollen from one of them is an aphrodisiac.

First up is my TCM characters and I’ll do them individually so I don’t make them too long lol

Bubba Sawyer/Slaughter

It was a hot summer day in Texas, the sun mercilessly beating down upon the dead grassy fields. Soft wind blowing through tan curtains that hung against bedroom windows.

Soft panting echoed off bedroom walls, Bubba lying upon the queen size bed, knuckles against his lips and heavy breathing leaving the chapped skin. Only dressed in his boxers sweat rolled down his frame, feeling overly hot and all around uncomfortable.

A soft knock to the bedroom door alerted Bubba to your presence, your voice calling out

“Bubba? I’m coming in with your tea”

Quietly the door opened, Bubba noticing you right away in your soft sundress hitting mid thigh, the straps thin as your breasts sat in the bodice, cleavage clearly visible to which Bubba couldn’t keep his eyes off of. Turning his head away with a blush that erupted across his cheeks he could feel his cock twitch in his boxers, hand coming down to try and hide it.

Coming around the side of the bed you sat beside him, placing his cold tea on the nightstand. Leaning over him you placed the back of your hand on his forehead as you asked

“How are you feeling, baby?” Noticing how hot he was your look of hope, that he was feeling a little better, went away “you’re still really warm.”

Bubba whimpered feeling your soft hand caress down and over his cheek lovingly, not able to stop his hips from thrusting just a little at the small amount of contact. His much larger hand moved from his crotch, gripping the wrist of your hand on his cheek, you looked down at it and couldn’t help how your brows furrowed. Looking back up at your lovers face you asked

“Do you want me to get you something Bubba? Maybe some soup?”

Bubba shook his head no, instead moving your hand down his chest where he relaxed his head back onto the pillow behind him and moaned. Looking down at your hand then up at Bubba, who was practically panting like a dog in heat, face all bright red, you were able to put two and two together.

“Oh, Bubba, do you need my help?” You asked

Bubba furiously nodded his head, desperate for anything you could give him. Humming you leaned in pressing your lips against his in a quick kiss, legs moving to straddle his lap. Hands combing through his thick chest hair lips leaving heated kisses down the hot skin of his neck. You could feel his throbbing cock pressing against the heat slowly emanating from your panties, letting yourself gently rub against him.

“My poor Bubba, sitting in here all alone…”

you whispered into his ear, the ghost of breathe making him twitch, your thumbs moving back and forth over the sensitive nubs of his nipples. Hips going faster as you talked

“Not able to relieve yourself, needing me to touch you, to play with you all because of some stupid flower you tried to get for me?”

Bubba nodded letting out an affirming sound.

“I’m sorry my sweet boy, let me help you now.”

Bubba whimpered out a soft please as his large hands gripped your hips forcing you down harder onto his throbbing, leaking cock. Moaning out into his neck you could feel the puddle forming in your panties, thumbs moving against his nipples a little faster now as he kept rutting up into you.

Humping back into him you couldn’t help but audibly moan into his ear, whispering out soft ‘fucks’ or ‘yes Bubba you’re doing so good’ affirmations you knew would get him all riled up.

Animalistic groans and moans left Bubbas lips, his boxers getting wetter by each thrust as the friction caused him to throb. Fingers digging into your hips harder, probably leaving bruises but him not being in the mind set to care, he could feel himself growing closer and closer to climax.

“Bubba, fuck, keep going come on baby I want you to cum for me.” You moaned in between kisses, both hands on his cheeks as you peppered his lips with the sloppy kisses.

Bubba moaned into your lips as he shoved you down onto his soaked boxers, breathe laboring as you felt him twitch against you, balls clenching as you felt his climax spray inside the boxers. Bubbas hand moved up and behind your neck, pushing your lips harder against him as he twitched, coming down from his high.

Kissing him back you moaned against him grabbing onto the pillow behind his head tightly, your pussy pulsing own orgasm rushing through you merely from the feeling of his own against your heat.

Pulling away the both of you panted, laying against one another trying to get your breathes back, your fingers playing with the soft damp hair at his chest.

“We should go wash up.” You commented but neither of you moved just wanted to stay lost in the moment between the both of you.

[thatwritterbeach]

So about that alley .9

Jason Todd x ofc Alex

Dc masterlist

Summary: Alex finds out her bf is red hood, after she spills some not so great secrets to the masked man while stitching him up.

Warnings: vaginismus, mentions of puke, angst duh, eating disorder, self harm, Jason 'forces' her to quit her job so he can better help her

A/N: I do not own dc boohoo. none edited this story is running away and i dont kniw what to do with it please send a dog catcher

"Baby, sweets," came his groggy voice from the bed before he registered what she was doing and he was behind her grabbing her hair.

The shame that overtook her when she woke up was enough to have her rushing to the bathroom to empty her stomach. Not only was she a freak for using the blade he'd given her, she was the freak who couldn't get off without her boyfriend putting on a mask. (never mind that she'd never had an hour of stimulation and over twenty minutes of a vibrator on her but in this state she couldn't think)

"Sorry, so not sexy," she said into the bowl. He laughed and handed her a washcloth for her mouth then used the hair tie from the sink to put her hair into the worst bun he'd ever seen. She brushed her teeth and pitched her toothbrush into the trash and turned to him with a light smile. He returned it lifting her up on the sink to wrap his arms around her.

"Feeling better?"

"Much."

"You getting sick or..."

"Would you be mad if I said it was nerves?"

"Nothing you do or say could make me mad. What's got you nervous?" His little head tilt cute enough to kill brain cells.

"You...I feel-I'm sorry, my head's not awake yet. Just awake enough for a panic induced pukey session," she mumbled rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"Pukey?"

"I don't like the word *vomit*," she explained on a whisper. He nodded like it made all the sense in the world and filed that info away for later.

"Well do you want to go home and take a bathey?"

She snorted at his word choice and thunked her head into his chest, his arms coming up to wrap around her tighter.

"Yes I would love a bathey," she said into his bare chest. He gently eased her head up so he could spin around and offer her a piggy back ride.

"I'm too heavy-"

"Bullshit," he growled spinning faster than she could blink and caging her in," you're the most beautiful fucking thing on this planet and I won't let you think anything less if it's the last thing I do," he stated using a touch too much force to hold her jaw and force eye contact. He could feel her jaw tick like she was about to give him an ear full for the man handling but she surprised him by melting into the touch and closing her eyes.

"That was hot," she laughed at herself. His grip slackened and slid to her throat but she shook her head. "Not into that, big boy, sorry." His hand jerked back like she'd burned him and he held her waist instead.

"Sorry-"

"Dude, chill, this is how we learn, by talking. If I do something you don't like, tell me. I'm cool with the jaw, just no throat. Really I meant you getting all fired up about my self-esteem, that was hot."

It didn't take long to pack up and head out, making it back to her apartment. Jason ran her a bath with bubbles and candles and set up a small single step stool for himself to sit on. She eased into the hot water with a one piece swim suit on and he sat on his little stool and opening a book.

(good heavens where should this thing go??)

"You still need to show me your blade," he said with forced ease.

"Jason."

"Yes, love?"

"If I tell you something you have to promise not to beat yourself up over it."

"I promise." With his fingers crossed behind his back

"I've been using the knife you gave me. Not intentionally, it's just such a good knife, and-"

"The pocket knife with the replaceable razor blades?"

"Yes, but I'm careful-"

"Alex, what the fuck! Those are sharp as hell, you could, fucking shit, you could hit bone without much force. Shit babe." The first sentence was nearly yelled but the rest was a forced average tone and she sank into the water on instinct when he stood up and towered over her.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered closing her eyes. He tossed his book aside and scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair multiple times muttering fuck fuck fuck again and again.

"One slip up and-fuck you could..." Her eyes were watering but she wasn't going to let herself cry.

"Jay, I'm sorry, I'll give it back-"

"You're on 24 hour watch. You're quitting your job and we are going to Bludhaven to stay with Dick. He can watch you when I'm out and we'll switch."

"Jason-"

"No, this is not up for debate. I let you go hoping you would come to me, and I know addiction is shit and is hard and I didn't want you to feel forced but dammit I won't fucking lose you over this. When is the lease up on this place?"

"Umm, next month," she whispered.

"Good, don't re-sign. I'll find us a place when you're better. Quit your job, no two weeks, I'll get you a better one."

"Jason Peter Todd, if you think for one damn second-"

"It's my job to take care of you. You are not going to be freeloading, you don't need to make money, I have more than enough and you damn well know it. I won't tell the feminists club." He sat back down and reached to grab both her hands in his.

"You haven't even asked Dick. How will he and Kory feel-"

"They aren't together right now, he'll be stoked to have you, scouts honor," he said using one of his hands to make the star trek 3 finger sign.

"You stole tires? How is that very scouty?"

"I never said boy scouts, baby I was in Gotham scouts, street addition."

"You're lucky I love you cuz your jokes are crap." He was about to say something when is phone rang and 'dickhead' lit up the screen.

"Yello," he said into the phone.

"Jay, any chance Red can stop and help a guy out, got this huge bust?"

"What a coinkydink, I was just about to call you. I'll be right back, babe," he said to her and left the room. She couldn't hear him so the bastard must have gone out to the hallway.

"What's up," Dick asked.

"Alex isn't doing too well. I know you're still pissed about the alley-"

"Dude, so last season, old news."

"Didn't realize I was talking to a chick, could you put my brother back on the phone?"

"So Alex..."

"Anyway, I can't watch her close enough, and she's not being careful when she hurts herself-"

"What the fuck man, you're still letting her do that. Why does she even have anything sharp?"

"I didn't want her to feel forced into anything, she's an adult she would just go buy more. I was hoping the show of trust would help bring her out of her shell and at least tell me after she does it. She's using the knife I gave her, those interchangeable razor blade ones-"

"Shit, the one you cut that guy down to the bone with?"

"Yeah, obviously I gave it to her way before I knew what she was doing."

"So what do you need from me?"

"A spare bedroom, I don't know how long, but I'll help with your bust and-"

"As long as she needs."

"Dick?"

"Yeah, Jaybird?"

"I love you, you're a good big brother, even though you missed my funeral," he added so the words didn't feel as heavy on his tongue.

"Dude, I didn't even know-wait a damn minute what did you just say?"

"Clean your ears old man I ain't sayin' in again."

"Love you too, little bird. Tell Alex I said thanks for teaching you nice words." Jason rolled his eyes and hung up to go check on Alex. She was out of the tub and in one of his t-shirts sitting on the edge of the bed picking at her cuticles.

"Hi."

"Hi, I uh, I figured you'd wanna ya know check my...wounds, so I didn't bother with clothes," she said to the floor.

"I told Dick I loved him and he was a good brother."

"You did," she said with pride, her eyes snapping to his.

"Yeah, he said thanks for teaching me nice words." she nodded with a soft smile but it didn't last long as she laid back on the bed and bunched the shirt up to just under her breasts. No makeup no bandages and her ribs were shredded.

"Oh, baby," he said crossing the room in a few long strides. He put one knee on the bed to lean over her and run his finger over the cuts.

"These almost needed stitches."

"I know," she responded, jaw ticking.

"I love you, love you, love you," he repeated kissing each mark.

9-17-24

[zairene]

the freeridge hate was so over exaggerated lmao

*small rant in the tags sorry*

[dawdlecentric]

Every time Nijika says Daijoubu / 大丈夫

[sidetongue]

this beautiful idiot went to live with someone else and honestly, both of our QOL are much better HAHA

[lillotte17]

.

[the-holy-ghosted]

What the fucks a guy gotta do to get a decent coffin around here. I mean really

[definitelynotnia]

normalise saying "I don't have enough information on this topic to have an opinion on it"

and then staying out of it completely rather than going along with wtv opinion u imprinted from three random posts/reels/tweets and having weird misinformed debates with full confidence

[halfelven]

love random not even logged in readers just dropping their 'constructive criticism' on your 100k+ story that you're putting online entirely for free. this is just a rant btw

"You obviously have a great talent and I think you should work on honing it some. As much as I’ve enjoyed the story, there are a few things that stand out that you might consider looking at. I feel like the story isn’t sure what it wants to be at times; is it character driven or plot driven? It doesn’t flow smoothly because sometimes we have these wonderful character vignettes, like Illumi and Kalluto on a road trip or Kite/Leorio/Gon/Killua in an apartment where plot doesn’t really feel important, followed by what feels like heavily plot driven beats, like Kalluto and the spiders. In addition, it contributes to confusion because sometimes we see established characterization turned on its head. Especially the weird way everyone all of a sudden just sort of was OK with Kalluto being a spider and then working with Illumi when they just went to all that trouble to escape him? It all kind of feels forced and not natural. You know?

Anyway, I’ll definitely keep reading and look forward to seeing what happens."

first: love you trying to sound legitimate with your "in addition" like this is some kind of writer's workshop. second: in what way would I, the writer, think that an incomplete part of my story in which the reader does not yet know most of the main motivations (they are only hinted at so far) feels forced and not natural when I know what's happening, where it is going (and where I haven't had other readers comment with confusion about that part)

and moving on. don't do this. also like i said this is a wip in and no, no one is cool with Kalluto being a spider and no they're not cool working with Illumi, really. it was already established that some of them /have/ been working with Illumi before this~ he's someone that they know. like have you never been in a seriously dangerous situation that you just have to get through before you get back to what you want?*** also at this point Chrollo's real motive hasn't been entirely revealed.

Killua keeps changing his mind about what he's doing because he's a scared kid whose self-hatred is destroying him from the inside out. the POV is so tight that I have to keep dropping reminders that what is stated in the narrative is often not true! Illumi's POV, for example, keeps showing Killua as really loving him and being happy he's around but struggling with a desire for freedom, while with Killua's POV he's terrified of Illumi most of the time. like how is that not obviously a distorted POV where you can't trust the narrator?

"where plot doesn’t really feel important, followed by what feels like heavily plot driven beats"

this part is especially irritating because it's like yeah that's how I want to write it? this isn't a published novel. I don't have to commit to making sure every scene is important to the plot. I can spend time writing a full scene about someone drinking a glass of water and then 13 chapters in a row that are for moving the plot forward. I didn't even tag it as a novel... I did tag it for unreliable narration and I keep getting annoyed that people keep ignoring that.

"I feel like the story isn’t sure what it wants to be at times; is it character driven or plot driven?"

it's both??? it's neither??? it's a fanfic??? why do I keep getting comments lately where people are expecting me to adhere to like fucking publishing standards. this keeps up and I will write a chapter which is entirely about a minor character drinking a glass of water. watch me. I'll write one about phinks drinking a glass of water and you'll like it*

"Overall, the story is good and presented a compelling alternative to CA. Look, each fan has their own opinion on CA and I know I didn’t like it. I think it was a product of what Togashi was going through as he began to experience health issues and then finding himself right back where he said he wasn’t going to be mentally after he ended his earlier manga. We can never know for sure, but it certainly had a “watch it all burn vibe” to it near the end. I honestly believe he wanted it to end with the finality of Gon’s suicide as a capstone statement, but was probably convinced to go a different route, which kinda of left a jarring feel in the narrative and culminated in a rather unsatisfying end to Gon and Killua’s journey. Despite that, I am very reluctant to read fics where the events of CA are erased or grossly modified and honestly yours is really the first long AU/alternate timeline I’ve enjoyed"

okay first of all, I love the CA arc. but I had to split a point off where Kite was going to survive. why do you have to leave this whole paragraph about how you think Togashi was or wasn't going to go with the CA on my fanfic? I didn't even write this as 'oh look at my alternative to CA bc I hated CA' I don't really look forward to hearing comments about how random people didn't like so and so aspect of the story that I'm basing my story off of. I've never written fanfic for a story that I didn't like (except for some things that I don't have published I wrote at a request for friends for a fandom they were into that I wasn't really) and yeah I've wanted to 'fix' aspects (like tolkien's treatment of women for example) but I am not looking for your 'this is what I hated about the source material' comments on my stories

tired of getting comments with little 'oh I didn't like your style at first but now I do' or 'here's how to fix your story!' unsolicited advice from people who aren't better writers than me (I don't even want it from people who would be better writers than me on stuff I'm just doing for fun and for free)

when did stuff like this become normal? at least don't be a coward and be not logged in so you can't even get a response notification. like girl they aren't cool with it! why do you think everyone is on guard standing around like they're in a fucking hostage situation? how do you see such wildly different interpretations from different character's POVs and think it's not intentional? what part about Kite watching Killua like a fucking hawk makes you think he's going to let Illumi take him after this?

like if you've never had to smile and pretend to be cool with your abuser (pretend to love them) or someone who was threatening you to keep someone else safe then good for you! it fucking sucks! also don't know how to explain to you what a child who is growing up in an extremely isolated abusive situation goes through (though I keep writing about it in this story you should catch on...) but it's a million back and forths with emotion and feelings--especially if their abuser does (to in some way or to some degree) love them. and it is often blaming themselves. I'm not letting my years of studying human psychology and child development go to waste here**

is this story perfect? no but I'm not gonna hire an editor for a fanfic. and everyone's interpretations of characters will be different. especially with child characters who are going through huge changes in the world around them and their personal lives. part of the appeal of fanfiction is 'who would they become if this happened instead?' *sorry I keep writing about starving and not having clean drinking water but I will never stop because that's what I grew up with and it's hell. also phinks drinking water would be compelling since I assume he'd have harder access to clean drinking water

**hunter x hunter is also one of the only stories I have encountered with characters who have backgrounds as fucked up as mine and Togashi's interest in human psychology really stands out.

***like good for you but that was most of my life and you sometimes just have to shut up and get through it. and no I will not put my notes in the right order bc I'm not being paid enough****

****I'm being paid nothing

[todayisafridaynight]

CHAT STREAMS ARE THE BEST THOUGH </3 Nati's making it sound so fun on Discord... but yeah I'll definitely try and unfuck my sleep schedule for next time and Especially For Gaiden (two weeks... fucked up...)

Very excited for One Missed Call too! It's at least gonna be fun watching the American one with everyone even if it sucks LMAO

nati gotta be hyping it up too much i truly just asked people if they thought of jaundice ever ☠️☠️☠️ good to know fam had fun tho <3

the best part about american remakes is that theyre so bad theyre funny so my hope is we leave laughing. at the very least im sure i can Try to be funny and poke fun at the film LOL

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[determinate-negation]

important edit!

UPDATE 9/4/2024: we will be closing down the old campaign because mohamed was having issues with the guy hosting it. i'm hosting a new campaign which i am linking below. THIS IS THE UPDATED LINK.

(this is a verified campaign and is 192 on the vetted fundraiser sheet)

mohammed @save-mohamed-family has been trying to raise money to save his family for a while on tumblr, and he raised a significant amount of money but the bank his beneficiary was using abruptly shut his account down and he lost all his progress. a lot of banks and money services have been arbitrarily freezing or shutting down the money palestinians are raising to survive this genocide, which is just an additional injustice for people already suffering so much. mohammed has since opened a new gofundme but its made very little progress.

please donate to this campaign– especially if youve donated in the past because gofundme will have refunded you

mohammed already lost his mother, father, and four sisters in the war who were killed in a bombing, and is now living in tents with his remaining family members. he was seriously injured in his foot and it may need to be amputated, but he told me that hes doesn't care if he loses his foot, he just doesn't want to lose his wife and children. his wife has uterine cancer but hasn't been able to get treatment because the genocidal israeli army has destroyed health centers. his children are suffering from infectious diseases spreading throughout gaza. there is practically no medical treatment or medicine available in gaza and the massacres continue everyday. food and water is scarce and priced exorbitantly. mohammed has made posts on his blog about their situation and i do encourage you to read his own words too.

please dont be desensitized to this just because it's been going on for so long. put yourself in his shoes and think about how you would feel– after nearly a year of the most destructive bombing campaign in history, living in hunger and pain every second with no home, no running water, no sanitation, not having a moment of security, subject to arbitrary decisions from an occupying force. no one should have to live like this.

the pain of losing so many family members, your home, your job, and everything you have is already unimaginable. please dont let him lose any more of his family. donate to this campaign and if you cant, share it with someone who can.

especially if you have a degree of disposable income i implore you to think about what you can reasonably give. it could be relatively small adjustment for you but make a significant difference for someone else.

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic