#so it was. not easy. but i got everything i needed to done so at least everything turned out alright :) đ
reader maybe having a dad, like jjâs? very manipulative and controlling, sometimes itâs physical. and he comes out unexpected while rafes there
okay so i was planning to write off her parents as dead but this made me change my mind a little, hope you enjoy <3
wash the sins out of that house - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
The sound of cartoons played low in the background, mixing with the faint clink of a fork against a plate.Â
Rafe leaned back against the worn-out couch in your sisterâs living room, watching as you flipped pancakes at the kitchen counter. Your sisterâs kid, Milo, was glued to your leg, like always, babbling about some superhero show. The smell of breakfast filled the house, making it feel more like home than his own ever did.
Every little thing you did just made him fall more, if that was possible. He was always looking at you like that, like you were some kind of miracle.
It wasnât just how good you were with Milo or how much you cared about everything and everyone. It was how much weight you carried without ever complaining, how you made everything seem easy even when he knew it wasnât. Youâd been staying here ever since the storm ripped through your house a few months back.Â
Your sister was cool. Single mom, strong like you, but in a quieter way. She worked double shifts, and left you to help with Milo most of the time. Not that you ever complained, even after the long shifts, you loved to babysit. You were used to this shitâbeing the rock. Probably why you hadnât freaked out when your house got leveled. You just rolled with it, found a place with your sister, and moved on like it was no big deal.
Heâd been staying over more and more, crashing on the couch when he was too tired to drive back to Tannyhill. At first, it was just because he wanted to be near you when you couldnât sleep over at his. But now⌠it felt like more. Like he could see himself living with you right away.
You glanced over your shoulder, catching him staring like an idiot. âYou good?â
âYeah,â He cleared his throat, leaning forward. âYou need help or something?â
You laughed, shaking your head as you flipped another pancake. âYou? In the kitchen? Thatâs rich, baby.â
âHey, you never complain about my pancakes.âHe shot you a grin, but it faded when Milo tugged at your shirt, asking something in that tiny voice of his.Â
You crouched down, your voice soft as you reassured him, âMommy will be back soon, okay? Just a couple more hours.â
You looked so at ease like youâd been raising kids your whole life. It did something to himâwatching you like that. This tough, independent woman who wouldnât take anyoneâs shit, just⌠melting when you talked to Milo.
Rafe swallowed hard, not really knowing what to say. Every time he tried to picture your future together, it got fuzzy. Not because he didnât want one. He already told you he did. But because he wasnât sure if he deserved one with you. His life had been a mess half the time.
Heâd hurt people. Done things.
But when he was around you, he didnât feel like that entitled spoiled guy anymore. He felt like someone who could be better. For you.
The front door slammed open, and immediately, something was off. Rafeâs eyes shot from Miloâs cartoons to the guy whoâd just staggered in. He could smell the booze before he even saw his face.
Who the hell?
You froze. The spatula in your hand hung mid-air as you stared at this man like youâd seen a ghost. But this wasnât a ghost. This guy was real, and from the way he was swaying on his feet, he was about to make himself a problem.
âSome fucking daughters yâall are,â the guy slurred, his voice rough and soaked in alcohol. âNot inviting your old man over while heâs in town.â
Your dad? That was your dad?
Rafeâs mind spun. You never talked about your parents and heâd never asked because he wasnât stupid. He could tell it was a touchy subject, just like his own dad was sometimes, so he never brought it up. He assumed they were gone and you only had your sister. He never imagined this.Â
Not once had you mentioned your dad. And now here he was, stumbling through the door like he owned the place.
Rafe shot up from the couch, every muscle in his body tightening. Who the hell did he think he was, barging in here like that? You didnât say anything right away, but your whole posture changedâyour back straight, your pretty face like stone. You looked like you were bracing for something, and he didnât like that one bit.
âDad,â you said, flat and cold. âWhat are you doing here?â
He gave this ugly laugh, a mix of drunk and mean. âWhat, canât a father check in on his daughters? Or are you too good for your family now?â
You didnât even flinch. Didnât say a word. Just stood there, still as a statue, while Milo clung to your leg, eyes wide, just as confused as Rafe felt.
Rafe stepped forward, putting himself between him and you. He didnât care if this guy was your dad. He was drunk, stumbling, and saying things no father should be saying to his kid.
âWho the hell are you?â Her dadâs eyes flicked to him, narrowing, like he was sizing me up. âRich boy? Boyfriend?â
He squared his shoulders, staring him down. âRafe.â
âRafe,â he repeated, laughing like it was some kind of joke. âOf course. Sheâd find herself a rich boyfriend. Always looking for the easy way out, huh?â
He had some fucking nerve walking in here, talking to you like that. Like Rafe was ever going to let someone run you down. He didnât know anything about your relationship with your parents, but from the look in your eyes and the way you were gripping the edge of the counter, he was starting to get the picture. This wasnât the first time your dad pulled something like this, clearly.
You grabbed his arm before he could take another step. âRafe, donât.â
Your voice was low, almost pleading. Not because you were scared, but because this was deeper than just a drunk guy running his mouth. This was something youâd been dealing with for years, and your boyfriend was just now getting a front-row seat.
Your dad sneered at you. âThatâs right. Tell your little boyfriend to back off. Youâre not so tough now, are ya? Always thinking youâre better than me. Always looking after your sisterâs kid like youâre some kind of hero. But youâre not. Youâre just like your mother. Weak.â
Thatâs when Rafe felt it. That surge of anger, that need to hit something.
No one talked to you ike that. No one.
He could feel his fists clench, chest tightening. He was ready to throw your dad out himself. But your hand tightened on his arm, and he looked at you. Really looked at you. You seemed tired, like youâd been through this a thousand times before, and you didnât need him to step in. Not right now.
âLet him go,â you said quietly. âHeâll leave when heâs done.â
Rafe didnât want to back off. Every instinct in him was screaming to throw this piece of shit out on his ass. But something in your voice, something in the way you were looking at him, made him stop. You werenât asking for help. You were asking him to let it go. For now.
He swallowed the anger and stepped back, though he kept myself between you and your dad. He wasnât leaving you alone with this guy, no way in hell.
Your dadâs sneer didnât falter. âYeah, thatâs what I thought.â He swayed a bit before heading for the door, muttering under his breath. âUngrateful littleâ"
The door slammed behind him, leaving the room dead quiet. The kind of quiet that made you realize just how loud things were a minute ago.
You exhaled slowly, like youâd been holding your breath the whole time. You turned back to the counter, flipping the pancake like nothing happened. But Rafe could see the way your hands shook just a little.
He stood there for a second, still running through everything that just went down. Heâd never seen you like that before. And he didnât like what he saw.
âBaby,â he said quietly, stepping closer.
You didnât look at him. âHe does that sometimes. Shows up, drunk, says whatever he feels like saying. Then he leaves. Same thing for as long as I can remember.â
Rafe didnât know what to say. His mind was racing, trying to wrap around the fact that this was your life. Youâd been dealing with that guy for who knows how long, and you never said a word about it.
âThatâs not okay,â he said finally, his voice rough. âThatâs not normal.â
You sighed, finally turning to face him. âYeah, well. Now you met the whole family.â
You didnât know what else to say.
There wasnât much to say. This was just how things were for you. Your dad was a mess, and youâd learned to deal with it, ignore it even. There was no fixing this. Not really. At this point, it didn't affect you or your daily life that much.
âI shouldâve asked,â he said, his voice thick with guilt. âAbout your family, I mean.â
I shook my head, feeling the weight of it all. âI wouldnât have told you,â I admitted. âProbably wouldâve said heâs dead.â
You didnât want to be that girlâthe one with family baggage so heavy it crushed everything good in your life. You didnât want Rafe looking at you like I were fragile or damaged. It was bad enough that you were as broke as it got. Youâd just gotten used to him wanting to help, to be a little less independent, to let him take care of you and spoil you every once in a while.
This though? You never wanted him to find out.Â
But now⌠he knew. He knew what you came from. And you couldnât hide it anymore.
âI donât care,â Rafe said suddenly, breaking the silence. Like he was trying to convince you and himself at the same time. âI donât care about your dad. I care about you.â
You could feel his eyes burning into you, but you couldnât bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you kept your focus on the pancakes, the routine keeping you distracted. But your hands wouldnât stop shaking, no matter how hard you tried to stop it.
âI just⌠I didnât want you to see that,â You finally admitted, your voice small and raw in a way you hated. âI didnât want you to know how messed up everything is.â
Rafe moved closer, his body warmth seeping into your side as he leaned against the counter next to you. He didnât try to touch you, though, and you were grateful for that. You werenât ready for that.
Not yet.
âMessed up? Baby, have you met me?â He let out this soft, disbelieving laugh, but there wasnât any humor in it.Â
You glanced up at him, finally meeting his eyes. And there it wasâthat soft, almost sad look he got sometimes when he thought about his family. About how his mom left and how his dad never really let him in. Ward Cameron was friendly enough with you, and he wasnât a complete asshole to his son, but he was absent, not really caring about keeping a constant connection with his kids. It hit you then that maybe you two werenât so different after all.
Maybe thatâs why you worked.
But still, the shame stayed. The feeling that now that he really knew you, the ugly parts you kept hidden, he might not stick around. Guys like him didnât stick with girls like you, right? Despite him doing the exact opposite until know.
âThis changes nothing, okay?â he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was trying not to spook me. âNot with me.â
He wasnât looking at you like he was about to leave. His eyes were steady, clear. He didnât look freaked out or like he regretted being here. He just looked⌠real. Like he meant every word.
 âThis is a mess, Rafe. You saw it.â
âI donât care,â he said, like he needed you to hear him. âI donât care about any of that. None of it changes how I feel about you. I love you.â
You bit your lip, turning your attention back to the pancakes because if you didnât, you were afraid you might cry. You werenât the crying type, but after everything, your dad showing up like that, and Rafe not running for the doorâit was a lot. Too much, maybe.
âI donât want you to feel like you have to fix anything,â you said softly, flipping the last pancake and turning off the stove. âYou canât fix my dad or the way things are. I donât want you to try.â
âIâm not trying to fix anything,â Rafe said, stepping closer to you now. âIâm just⌠Iâm here. With you. Thatâs all I want.â
You felt his hand brush against yours, hesitant at first, like he wasnât sure if you were ready to be touched. But when you didnât pull away, his fingers laced through yours, and the warmth of it broke through the dread thad settled over you since your dad walked in.
Finally, you turned to face him, and there it wasâthat look in his eyes again. The one that said you were more than enough, that he saw you, really saw you, and wasnât running for the hills. You knew him like the plam of your hand now, and he wasnât bluffing. He never lied to you.
Your heart did this weird thing, like it flipped and dropped all at once. It was still a little scary to hear him say that. Scary because it meant he was sticking around, and as much as you it scared that was exactly what you wanted. For him to stay.
Because you loved him just as much, and you didnât mind reminding him every day.
Milo broke the silence, tugging at your shirt again. âIs it time for pancakes now?â
You couldnât help but smile at the innocence in his voice, the way he had no idea what had just gone down. You bent down to scoop him up, holding him close, the warmth of his growing body keeping you sane in the moment.
âYeah, buddy,â you said softly. âItâs time for pancakes.â
Rafe watched you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This is why he knew youâd be a good mom one day. He kept that thought in the back of his mind every day since you gave him the bracelet on his wrist.
The way you picked up Milo and smiledâit calmed him down. The whole scene was so youâtaking care of things, keeping it together even when everything around you was a mess.
âEat up, kiddo,â you said, ruffling his hair as he dug in with way too much syrup.Â
Then you glanced at Rafe again, your smile still lingering but more reserved, like you were still processing everything.
Milo was halfway through his second pancake, syrup smeared all over his little face, when he looked up at Rafe with those wide, innocent eyes.
âHey, Rafey, can we go to the park after this?â
You were clearing the plates from the counter, and Rafe caught the quick glance you shot his way. You had a shift starting in an hour, and Milo probably knew it too, even if he wasnât saying it.
He leaned back in his chair, wiping a bit of syrup off Miloâs cheek with the corner of a napkin. âThe park, huh? Whatâre you thinking, swings? Slide?â
Milo grinned, syrup dripping down his chin. âBoth! And the big jungle gym! You said I was big enough for it now, remember?â
He laughed, remembering the time a couple weeks back when Milo had looked at that massive jungle gym like it was Mount Everest, and Rafe told him he was totally ready to conquer it. âI did say that, didnât I?â
You shot him a look as you grabbed your bag, ready to head out for your shift. âYou sure about this?â you asked.
Rafe waved it off. âYeah, no problem. Milo and I got this.â He grinned at the kid. âWeâre gonna hit the park and maybe even stop for some ice cream after if your momâs cool with it.â
Miloâs face lit up like Christmas morning, and you laughed softly, shaking your head. âYouâre spoiling him, baby.â
He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but deep down he liked how easy it felt, like this was where he was supposed to be. âEh, he deserves it.â
You walked over to where Rafe was still leaning against the counter, and without overthinking it, you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
âEwwww!â Milo groaned dramatically, scrunching up his face like he just witnessed the grossest thing ever. âWhy do you always gotta kiss him like that?â
You and Rafe both burst out laughing, and Rafe shook his head, ruffling Miloâs hair. âGet used to it, bud,â he said, still smirking. âSheâs gonna keep doing that.â
âNot in front of me,â Milo said, still looking completely disgusted but clearly loving the attention. âItâs so gross!â
You grinned and gave Rafe a playful tap on the chest. âGuess weâll have to start sneaking around now.â
Rafe chuckled, pulling you in for another quick peck. âI can live with that.â
Milo let out an exaggerated groan, dramatically slapping his hands over his eyes. âUgh! Iâm never getting a girlfriend if thatâs what you have to do.â
âGood,â you said, shooting him a wink. âNo girlfriends until youâre thirty.â
Rafe laughed again, and Milo just sighed, completely over it. âCan we just go to the park now? Please?â
You shook your head, smiling at how easily the moment turned light again. âYou two have fun. Iâll see you later.â
You headed out the door, the sound of your nephew still groaning in the background making you smile as you went, promising yourself youâd answer whatever questions Rafe had about your parents, the second you two snuggled up in his bed at night.
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Happier Than Ever
Y/N, the youngest member of NewJeans, doesnât seem to fit in. Her groupmates think sheâs distant and always trying to outshine them. But during one performance, she steps forward with an unplanned solo, revealing a side of her that no one saw coming. As the truth comes out, everything changes, and Y/N is forced to take a choice she never chose.
Pairing â NewJeans x F! Reader (platonic)
Genre â Angst and a bit of fluff if u squint
Warnings â Mentions of trauma and abuse
WC â 8.6k words
Y/N had always been the outlier in NewJeans. The maknae, the sassy one, the one who never seemed to care. At least, thatâs what the others thought. From the moment she joined the group, she was distant, never quite fitting into their easy camaraderie. The way she threw herself into practice, trying to outdo everyone, the sharp remarks, the cold demeanorâit was enough to make them think she was just trying to steal the spotlight.
âSheâs so full of herself,â Hyein had muttered one day, rubbing her sore shoulders after another long practice session. âYeah, I donât get why she tries so hard,â Danielle added, her tone frustrated.
âItâs like she thinks she has to be perfect all the time.â Haerin hummed. âShe probably just wants to be the center of attention,â Minji sighed. âI donât know. Sheâs always got this attitude. Itâs like she doesnât care about us.â
What they didnât know was that Y/N was fighting a battle none of them could see. Her father, a man who had never supported her dream of becoming an idol, was the force behind her relentless drive.
To him, anything less than perfection was a failure. And failure wasnât an option. âIf you donât stay at the top, youâre done,â he had told her, his voice harsh. âIâll pull you out of that group and make sure you do something worthwhile. Doctor. Lawyer. Something respectable.â
She had no choice but to push herself harder than anyone else, even if it meant alienating her members. They didnât understand. They couldnât.
That night, the arena was packed. Thousands of fans waved their lightsticks, cheering as the stage lights dimmed for the next performance. Backstage, NewJeans were preparing for their set, but Y/N felt a knot in her stomach that wouldnât go away.
Tonight, she had to break free.
Before the others could ask what was wrong, Y/N stepped forward, holding her microphone tightly. Her heart raced as she looked at Minji, her voice trembling. âI need to sing a solo.â
âWhat?â Minji frowned, confused. âWe donât have time for that, Y/N. Itâs not part of the plan.â
âI'm sorry, but please.â Y/N said quietly, her eyes avoiding theirs. âI have to do this.â
The others exchanged glances, their frustration evident. What was she thinking? They had worked so hard to prepare for tonightâs show, and now Y/N was going off-script? But in the end they agreed. She never begs, nor apologizes. This must be important.
âFine,â Minji finally said, exasperated. âBut this better be quick.â
Y/N nodded and walked toward the stage, her steps heavy. As she stepped into the spotlight, she caught sight of her father sitting in the front row. His face was blank, emotionless, but Y/N knew better. She could feel his judgment, the pressure that had been suffocating her for years.
She grabs her guitar with her, playing the chords softly, and Y/N took a deep breath. This was it.
She was going to let everything out.
"When Iâm away from you, Iâm happier than everâŚ"
Her voice was soft at first, almost fragile, but the weight of the words echoed through the arena. The fans quieted, sensing something was different. Backstage, the other members stared in confusion, unsure of what was happening.
"Wish I could explain it better, I wish it wasnât trueâŚ"
Y/Nâs voice cracked slightly, but she kept going. The memories of her fatherâs cruel words, his impossible demands, played over and over in her mind. This wasnât just a performance anymoreâit was her story.
"You called me again, drunk in your benz, driving home under the influenceâŚ"
As the next verse flowed out, Minjiâs eyes widened in realization. This wasnât just some random song choice. Y/N was singing about something real. Something painful.
"You scared me to death, but Iâm wasting my breath, âcause you only listen to your fucking friendsâŚ"
Tears welled up in Y/Nâs eyes as she sang. She could feel her fatherâs cold gaze on her from the audience, and it made her chest tighten. She had spent so long trying to please him, trying to be perfect, but it was never enough.
"I donât relate to you, I donât relate to you, no, âcause Iâd never treat me this shitty, you made me hate this cityâŚ"
Haerin gasped softly, finally understanding. Y/N wasnât some brat trying to outshine them. She was fighting for her life, for her dream. And she had been doing it all alone.
"And I donât talk shit about you on the internet, never told anyone anything bad, âcause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything, and all that you did was make me fucking sadâŚ"
The pain in Y/Nâs voice was raw, unfiltered. Every word cut deeper, every note a release of all the emotions she had buried for years. The fans were in shock, many of them wiping away tears, while backstage, the members watched, hearts breaking.
"So donât waste the time I donât have, donât try to make me feel bad..."
Y/Nâs voice grew louder, more intense. The anger she had kept hidden for so long was finally spilling out. She wasnât just singing for herselfâshe was fighting for her freedom, for her right to choose her own life.
"I could talk about every time that you showed up on time, but Iâd have an empty line, âcause you never didâŚ"
Her hands trembled as she gripped the microphone, her voice carrying the weight of years of disappointment. Her father had never been there when she needed him, never supported her when she struggled, and now she was finally telling the world.
"Never paid any mind to my mother or friends, so I shut âem all out for you âcause I was a kidâŚ"
The lights on stage seemed to dim around her as the final words fell from her lips. The room was silent, the audience stunned, unsure of how to react to the raw honesty they had just witnessed.
Backstage, the other members could only stand in shock, tears streaming down their faces. Y/N had been fighting a battle none of them had seen, a battle they had misunderstood. She wasnât trying to be better than them. She was trying to survive.
"You ruined everything good, always said you were misunderstood, made all my moments your own..
just fucking leave me alone!"
By the end of the song, Y/Nâs voice was shaking, her body trembling from the emotional toll. She stood there, tears rolling down her cheeks, staring out into the darkened crowd, knowing her father was there, watching.
Then, as the final note faded, the silence was broken by slow, hesitant applause. It started with one person, then another, until the entire stadium erupted into cheers. The fans understood. They had felt her pain, and they were with her.
Y/N didnât move. Her eyes were locked on the figure of her father sitting in the front row. His face was cold, unfeeling, as if her words hadnât touched him at all. And in that moment, she knewâhe would never change. He would never let her be free.
As the rest of NewJeans rushed onto the stage to comfort her, Y/N felt her fatherâs presence like a dark cloud looming over her. Her members hugged her tightly, whispering apologies, telling her they were there for her now. But Y/N couldnât shake the feeling of dread.
âIâm so sorry,â Minji whispered, holding Y/Nâs shaking form. âWe didnât know⌠We didnât understand.â
âWe shouldâve seen it,â Hanni added, her voice thick with guilt. âYou didnât have to go through this alone.â
Y/Nâs tears fell faster, but she couldnât bring herself to respond. Her fatherâs eyes bored into her from across the stage, and she knew this wasnât over. It wasnât up to her anymore.
Suddenly, a figure began moving toward the stage. It was her father, pushing his way through the crowd, his face stone-cold with fury. The members of NewJeans noticed him at the same time, their protectiveness flaring up as they closed in around Y/N.
âWhat does he want?â Danielle asked, her voice trembling with anger.
Y/N didnât answer. She couldnât. She just stood there, frozen in place, as her father reached the edge of the stage and motioned for her to come down. His hand gestured sharply, a silent command.
âY/NâŚâ Minji started, her voice full of concern.
But Y/N knew she had no choice. She wiped her tears and stepped back from her groupmates, avoiding their eyes as she walked toward the stairs. The crowdâs cheers faded as confusion spread through the arena.
âWhere is she going?â Hyein whispered, panic creeping into her voice.
Her father grabbed her arm as soon as she reached him, pulling her away from the stage. The grip was tight, unforgiving. Y/N winced but didnât fight back. She was too drained, too scared. Her dream was slipping away before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do.
âNo,â Minji said firmly, stepping forward. âShe doesnât have to go with you.â
But Y/Nâs father shot them a cold glare. âThis is none of your business. Sheâs my daughter. And sheâs done with this ridiculous idol nonsense.â
Danielleâs fists clenched in anger. âYou canât do that to her. Sheâs not your puppet.â
Y/N shook her head slightly, signaling to her members that it was no use. This was her reality. Her fatherâs control over her life was too strong, and no matter how much they cared for her now, it wasnât enough to change that.
âIâm sorry,â Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. âIâm so sorryâŚâ
Minji, Hanni, Danielle, Hyein and Haerin stood helplessly as Y/N was led away, her figure disappearing into the crowd. The fans, confused and heartbroken, watched as the youngest member of NewJeans was taken from the stage, her future with the group slipping away with every step.
As the doors to the backstage area closed behind her, Y/N felt her fatherâs control settling over her once again. The dream she had worked so hard for, the friendships she had finally started to buildâit was all slipping through her fingers.
She had sung her truth. She had shown the world who she really was.
But it wasnât enough.
Her fatherâs voice was low and cold as they left the venue. âThatâs it. Youâre done with this idol nonsense. Tomorrow, weâll start making plans for your future. A real future.â
Y/N didnât respond. She had nothing left to say.
As the car drove away from the arena, leaving the lights and cheers behind, Y/N stared out the window, her heart heavy with the realization that her dream was over.
She was no longer a part of NewJeans.
And in that cold night, she knew she would never be happier than ever again.
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Whump idea I had.
Organ theft but Whumpee is awake for it. Bonus if they are afraid of needles or medical procedures
Tw: blood
"one two three all eyes on me! Okay kids," whumper clapped. "For our lab we got Subject 188236. Everyone say "hi Subject 188236!"
"...hi subject 188326..." whumper was the most insufferable professor on campus.
muffled cries called from the steel table. Whumpee squinted at the harsh lights, so they could see the people around them. Students in white lab coats and goggles watched them from every corner of their field of vision.
"Today you get no instructions. You'll tell me what to do, and I'll be your arms. We are harvesting it's heart." Whumper looked around, "Student A, how do we start?
"Like are we assuming everything is set up for us to just start cutting?"
whumper nodded.
"Then you need to make a 6-8 inch incision on the chest wall,"
"Perfect,"
Whumpee whimpered as whumper pressed their scalpel to whumpee's chest.
"Based off this subjects size, Student B, how big of an incision should I make?"
"Uhh, I wanna say somewhere between seven and eight?"
"Okay then, I'll go right in the middle,"
whumpee cried out as the teacher slowly ripped open their chest, blood collecting around the cut. Their breath quickened, but relief poured through them as whumper withdrew their tool.
"Oh no! Looks like our subject is panicking, I can't accurately open their chest like this. What do we do now?"
"Have someone nearby calm them down?" Student A answered.
"Student D, your turn,"
"The best way to calm them down is with assurance and distractions. May I?"
"All yours,"
Whumpee felt someone touch their head. They flinched, their chest throbbing worse with the motion.
"hey, it's okay, you're doing well so far, but it's going to hurt more if you don't calm down,"
All whumpee really heard was hurt more. Their eyes watered, stinging their dry eyes.
Student D retreated away, knowing they made things worse.
"it's okay, we all make mistakes. Student E? Wanna give it a shot?"
A hand covered Whumpee's eyes. They reached to pull the hand away, scared by the sudden darkness, but their hands were still restrained. Another hand began to massage their temples. And man, this was probably the nicest thing someone has done in a while. The newer people tended to be kinder. Whumpee couldn't help but relax, in fact, they almost fell asleep.
"good job," whumper whispered, making sure not to disturb whumpee. "Keep going,"
Whumpee whined as Whumper finished the cut, but they relaxed again when Student E begins trailing their nails along whumpee's buzzed scalp.
"what's next?"
"ethh ate," whumpee mumbled with the gag tied around their head.
"what was that?" Whumper asked.
Whumpee moved their jaw, referencing the gag.
"Now," whumper returned to their normal speaking volume. "You really shouldn't ever do this, because sometimes subjects are prone to biting or saying things that they really shouldn't, but 188236 tends to be good. When you all work in this industry, you'll learn when it is and isn't okay to do this."
Whumpee felt hands grab the gag and pull it down.
"what did you say?"
"Next you open the breast plate, then the ribs, disconnect the heart from the arteries, blah blah blah. Please, I'm tired, just please get this over with." Their tears wetted Student E's hand. the hands released whumpee's head.
"Whumper... I don't think I can do this,"
Whumper sighed. "And this is my fault. This is another reason we don't normally remove the gag...... why don't we stop for today? We can do this again next class." Whumper smiled at their students.
Once whumper was left alone with whumpee, they turned to them. "Looks like you get off easy today huh?"
whumpee didn't respond.
"Let's wrap your chest so you don't get blood everywhere,"
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How can you not love her? đđŠľâ¤ď¸
Viv: âIâm really happy with the reception I got from the fans and from all the other girls, it was pretty special. Coming back for the first time is a difficult thing to do. Itâs the first time youâre coming back home to the place where youâve been for seven years, so itâs not easy, itâs not like any other normal game, but I think Gareth has been really good with me in checking in with what I wanted to do this week, and the girls have helped me through today, and Iâm just really happy the game is done and dusted now and we can move on.â
âI wanted to be respectful for the fans who have stood by for the last seven years and are still standing by me, so I think I did the right thing in that sense. Coming back here today, mainly the focus was on surviving and getting through that game, and then everything else that came with that was just a bonus.â
GT: âI had some good conversations with Viv this week, and I could tell this [returning to the Emirates] was one she just wasnât comfortable with. Itâs really difficult when you go back to your former club.â
Viv: âYou could see on the pitch at times that Iâm back to being old me, and I can spread some passes and score some goals, and I think thatâs the only thing I need to focus on right now and keep on going. Iâm happy I stayed in England, Iâm happy I stayed in the league. I feel free, I feel like I can be myself, and thatâs really what I needed.â
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drdt ch2 ep14 spoilers
compiling some of my thoughts
god . fuck . the way Terukoâs âlet go of meâ was so soft and apprehensive as if she didnât want to scare Eden further than she already was . IâM SICKKKK/pos
I still love Hu but yeah her insistence got a little much in this episode . thank you for everything girl but please . please take a break . that desperate smile as she begged Nico to let her defend them⌠she has some harrowing issues she needs to work out. I canât wait to learn more!
david chiem secures his number one placement at the âtop ten worst bisexualsâ list /aff. god. Iâm actually insane about him and Terukoâs foils it is everything to me. he wants Teruko to give into her nature so he can use her as a method to prove his worldview right- that every person is born with their permanent ânatureâ in their blood, and that itâs pointless trying to change that. he wants her to do what sheâs always done, because thatâs how he gets the advantage on her. thatâs how he gets his satisfaction, when thereâs nothing left to feasibly criticize about his words because he knows for sure heâs right. all he wants is for him, the man born to lie, to be proven without a shadow of a doubt that he is CORRECT.
but Teruko is not giving him that fulfillment. she knows he has a point, she knows heâs using her word against her, she is visibly affected by this âeasy choiceâ heâs dangling in front of her. yet she doesnât take his bait. she chooses to make room for a little bit of trust. not just to spite David, but also to make the trial more organized and efficient. she is working to fix her fatal mistake from earlier in the trial. and itâs fucking awesome.
Teruko as a character is just so engaging. she wants to find excuses for not trusting others, yet at the same time she also protects herself with excuses TOWARDS trusting others.
âIâm repaying your favor, and nothing else. Thatâs why Iâll trust you, just this once.â
she is so conflicted about what she wants. about what she THINKS she wants versus what is BEST. she wants to do the right thing, but she wants to be safe. I hope to see that grow and blossom as DRDT continues, because she is truly one of, if not, THE greatest fangan protagonist I know of
gah, and here comes the Ace culprit accusation. it may not be Huover after all⌠but, weâll see where this goes. I think theyâll bring up Aceâs gloves (for the rope burn) and his strength (for getting the rope over the ceiling, which I assume was done with the starch ballâŚ? he did have a chance to get the clothes, because he was a part of the redesign gang) when talking about his possibility as a culprit. either way, I look forward to what happens next!
good shit, DRDTDev. Iâm loving everything about this. thank you for all you do . đ
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PYSKINKTOBER
welcome to PYSKINKTOBER! im youâre host, nani, and we got a few games to play! before we start, you might be wondering what is PSYKINKTOBER, well itâs a new thing im startingâitâs still kinktober but I wanted to add some psychotic oneshots to the mix.
all PYSKINKTOBER one shots will be tagged with trigger warnings when needed to. some of these might not get done, but ill let you guys know!
in the meantime, whoâs ready to to play?
PRESS PLAY
ââ âş âˇâš
PAPRAZZI . ⼠mma!fighter toji x fem!reader â ROUND ONE + tw: stalking
summary ⼠the strongest man in the world canât seem to shake off his number one fan. heavily inspired by lady gagaâs song
DADDYâS DEALINGS ⼠patch!wolverine x fem!reader â ROUND TWO
 summary ⼠dont fuck with him while heâs working. you knew that, but what happens when you try to fuck on him during work? ' NSFW CONT '
KNOCK THAT KITTY CAT OUT! ⼠old!manlogan x f!reader â ROUND THREE
 summary ⼠everything and everyone seems to stress the old man out, what happens when he takes it all out on you? title inspired by sir mix a lot ' NSFW CONT '
S(C)ARRIE STORIES ⼠supernatural x fem!reader â ROUND FOUR
 summary ⼠whatever you do, donât let the winchester brothers convince you to watch scary movies with youâespecially while youâre high.
AND I CAME! ⼠dbf!toji x fem!reader â ROUND FIVE
summary ⼠handing out candy to trick-o-treaters with him should be easy, right? inspired by love game by lady gaga ' NSFW CONT '
HURTS SO GOOD ⼠laststand!logan x fem!reader â BONUS ROUND ONE
 summary ⼠you find out logan has a pain kink. ' NSFW CONT '
NIGHTMARE ON KINK STREET ⼠tf!sukuna x fem!reader â BONUS ROUND TWO
 summary ⼠scary movies before bed? seems like youâre just asking for a scare. ' NSFW CONT '
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Pirates charm
Summary: Your the daughter of Meg and Hercules, everyone always compares you to your mother saying your exactly like her. You couldnât deny it either especially with how you wouldnât let yourself swoon for Harry hook.
Masterlist
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Being the daughter of Meg and Hercules wasnât easy. On one hand, you were expected to live up to your fatherâs reputation. The strong, brave hero of Olympus who could move mountains and defeat titans. People looked at you like you were supposed to be just like him- noble, pure, a shining example of what a demigod should be. But on the other hand, you were also Megâs daughter. And that meant you were sarcastic, quick-witted, and more than a little cynical. If your dad was all about heroism, you were about surviving in a world where happy endings didnât always happen. Your mother had made sure you understood that. Sheâd been there, done that, and wasnât about to let you fall into the same traps she had.
You were, as people liked to say, the spitting image of Meg. From your sharp wit to the way you carried yourself, always with a knowing smirk and a hint of sass in your voice. You werenât a wide-eyed optimist like so many people in Auradon. No, you knew better than that. Which was why Auradon Prep had become.. a little boring. The whole "perfect world" thing? Yeah, it got pretty old fast. Sure, there were plenty of bright, smiling faces and happily-ever-afters, but after a while, it all felt a bit fake. Like everyone was just pretending everything was perfect all the time. You needed something different. Something real. And then⌠Harry Hook showed up.
The first time you met Harry, you were standing by the docks, watching the Isle of the Lost kids as they arrived on their ship. Ben had done his whole "integration" thing, and now, here they were, villains' kids walking the pristine streets of Auradon. It was all very dramatic, with people whispering and staring at the new arrivals, like they were some kind of dangerous animals let loose in a zoo. You didnât care about most of them. But then, you saw him. Harry Hook.
With his long coat, swaggering walk, and that trademark hook hanging from his hand, he made quite the entrance. His sharp blue eyes scanned the crowd, taking everything in like he was already planning his next move. His smirk was lazy, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes that made you raise an eyebrow. And when his gaze landed on you? Oh, he noticed you too. His eyes flicked over your figure, taking in the sharpness of your features, the confidence in the way you stood. Unapologetic, like you didnât care what anyone thought. It was enough to make him pause for a second, his smirk faltering before returning even wider.
âAye, what do we have here?â he murmured as he sauntered over to you, his voice dripping with a Scottish lilt that sounded both amused and intrigued. âDidnât know Auradon had girls like youâ.
You crossed your arms, eyeing him up and down. âWhat? You thought we were all sunshine and rainbows?â He grinned, his hook tapping against his side as he stopped in front of you. âSomethinâ like that. But I think yeâre more storm clouds, lass. And I like thatâ. You gave him a dry smile, the corner of your lips lifting. âI aim to disappointâ. Harryâs grin didnât falter. If anything, it grew wider. âAh, yeâre trouble, arenât ye? I can tellâ. You shrugged, glancing at him with a bored expression. âIf youâre looking for damsels in distress, you might want to look elsewhereâ. âDamsels?â He raised an eyebrow, his smirk full of mischief. âI donât do damsels. I like girls who fight backâ. You tilted your head, feigning interest. âGood, because Iâd rather throw myself off a cliff than need savingâ.
He laughed, a deep sound that was rough around the edges, like he wasnât used to laughing much. But there was something about you that seemed to break through his usual bravado. âAye, I can tellâ. After that, it was like a game between the two of you. Wherever you were, Harry wasnât far behind, and every time he tried his usual pirate charm on you, you gave it right back with a smart remark or a sarcastic quip. Heâd call you âlassâ and youâd call him âHookâ with a roll of your eyes, but beneath all the teasing, there was something else. Something you werenât quite ready to name.
Because despite all the back-and-forth banter, Harry Hook was different from the others. He wasnât like the perfect princes of Auradon, who threw themselves at you with grand gestures and shining armor. No, Harry was raw. Real. He didnât pretend to be something he wasnât, and he didnât expect you to either.You liked that about him, even if youâd never admit it.
One afternoon, you found yourself sitting by the lake, enjoying some peace and quiet when you heard footsteps behind you. You didnât need to look to know who it was âShouldâve guessed youâd be hereâ you said, not even turning around as you leaned back on your elbows. Harry sat down next to you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body. âCanât help meselfâ he said with a grin. âYeâre just too much fun to annoyâ. You glanced over at him, eyebrow raised. âIf this is your idea of fun, you need a hobbyâ.
âOh, Iâve got hobbiesâ he replied, his voice teasing. âBut yeâre definitely the most interestinâ one so farâ. You rolled your eyes, fighting back the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. âYou must be really boredâ. Harry chuckled softly, but then his expression shifted, turning more serious. âYe know, yeâre different from the rest of âemâ.
That caught your attention. You turned to him, curious. âWhat do you mean?â He tapped his hook lightly against his leg, looking out at the water. âAuradon, itâs full of people pretendinâ to be somethinâ theyâre not. All smiles and pretendinâ everythinâ is perfect. But you?â He looked at you with those intense blue eyes. âYe donât pretend. Yeâre realâ.âYou blinked, not expecting the honesty in his words. For a moment, you didnât know what to say. Youâd spent so long deflecting with sarcasm and wit that someone seeing through you like that threw you off balance. âIâm just meâ you finally said, shrugging as if it didnât matter. âNothing specialâ. Harryâs gaze didnât waver. âThatâs where yeâre wrong, lassâ.
There was something in his voice that made your heart skip a beat. You werenât used to this, this raw, unfiltered honesty. People didnât talk like that in Auradon. They didnât look at you like they could see right through the mask. But Harry did. And, gods help you, you liked it. You cleared your throat, breaking the tension. âAnd here I thought pirates only cared about treasureâ. Harry smirked, his teasing nature slipping back into place. âAye, well, maybe I found somethinâ betterâ. Your heart did another unexpected flip at that, but you didnât let it show. Instead, you gave him a lopsided smile. âIf you think Iâm going to swoon, youâve got another thing comingâ. Harry chuckled, shaking his head. âNah, I wouldnât want ye any other wayâ.
The two of you sat in comfortable silence after that, the sound of the water lapping against the shore filling the space between you. For once, there were no quips, no banter just a quiet understanding. Maybe you and Harry werenât so different after all. Maybe, beneath the sarcasm and smirks, you were both just looking for something real. And maybe, just maybe, youâd found it in each other.
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Thank you for reading!!
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love thinking kipperlilly spends her afterlife looking for lucy in a familiar forest
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đ§¸âĄ â・Ë
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I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS
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people begging me to do something to make a certain someone happy arenât taking into account that i hate this person and i will revel in the knowledge that i kept them from getting the most perfect version of what they wanted. in fact i hope they mourn the loss of this for the rest of their life and die unhappy about it
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Peeked at twitter again unfortunately, and apparently people are mad that this week's seasonal story update was shorter? Literally it's a season that launches with the expansion. Every single one of those was smaller and lighter on the content.
Personally, I am enjoying that this season's storyline isn't too demanding. Clearly I love when we get a lot of lore, and we still get the usual initial dialogues, a lot of new weekly mission dialogues, ending dialogues and radio message + 2 lore pages. I have so much shit to do with Lightfall AND the exotic mission launched today which added so much new stuff to do so I was super glad that I was done with the weekly story in like 20 minutes.
Obviously the story was shorter due to the exotic mission launching alongside it. This seasonal story is also shorter in general, with only 6 weeks (6 lore pages to earn) which I am honestly relieved about because there's so much Lightfall content that I'm barely catching up with and there's the pinnacle grind that's kicking my ass because I don't want to die in every activity because an enemy looked at me. I get so overwhelmed with content when an expansion launches and there's also seasonal content. Sometimes I wish we got no season with the expansion.
So many people want things to slow down a little because we simply do not have time to grind 24/7, but then there's strange people who want a weekly update to require 6 hours of investement I guess. And of course everything in those 6 hours has to be brand new content, never before seen. If I see a single blade of grass that has been used as texture before, then Bungie is lazy. Obviously. /s
The only legitimate problem with this setup is for people who didn't get the expansion and only have the season. Their season is then not the exact same quantity as others. But it's never those people that make these complaints.
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ok ok ok last post abt it hi me and my mom got tattooed today and the chick that did em was fucking awesome i keep fucking bouncing cuz im like so happy with how they came out
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i just remembered that i designed an entire town and was almost done digitally lining my drafts before i just forgot it existed đ¤Ş
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i have Cleaned the Bedroom.
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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!)
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