#Or else I need to learn to write fanfic (impossible)

[somegrumpynerd]

Every single time I swear

[shadow0214]

I've been reading some fanfics with Noa and I love them, so I thought I'd give it a go. It's my first time writing so...don't judge me to hard.

Noa × human OC

Belonging

Always the same thing around the 'bunker', no one told you the things that were happening, you hated that. You felt like they still treated you like a little child even though you were in your twenties already.

"Yes, didn't you know? We're going on an excursion." Samantha said to me while I was drying the dishes after dinner.

"Of course, I didn't, nobody tells me anything around here. It's annoying" You muttered

You were the best tracker they had, you loved being outside, learning the ways of nature, and still nobody ever took you into account when expeditions like this happened.

"Hey, that's enough Sam." A voice said entering the kitchen. "Don't listen to her, she's just trying to get on your nerves"

You looked back and smiled at the comment. Lila always knew how to calm things down.

"Why don't you speak with Anna? Maybe she'll let you go this time." Lila said

"Yes, like every other time I asked her" You scoffed and shook your head.

"C'mon, I'll go with you." Lila pushed

"I don't even own a horse yet." You said

"Well...that's your own fault, Envy could've been yours, you just gave her away to Kiara". Lila reminded you.

Kiara, the daughter of a couple that was part of the council, the leaders of your group. She was like a little sister to you ever since you met her. You had no family, your dad died on an expedition, most say apes killed him, and your mother died soon after she gave birth to you. Medicine was scarce and trying to make it from scratch was hard, not impossible since you had a lab in the facility but still, sometimes the main components were just to available.

Most expeditions could last for months, trying to find more humans, more medicine, or even mark places where apes had their homes so no one would go near. You had the firearms, but not the manpower to fight them alone.

You never understood the hate your kind had towards the apes, yes, they were now more and had claimed a lot of the land humans once ruled, but they had also healed the land. No humans meant trees and animals were free to repossess what was once theirs, and apes were not using human machines that harm the earth, so everything had regained its balance in a way. Since you were little, you went out of the bunker with a horse, you learned how to fish, how to hunt, how to track and look for things outside, you never understood why you felt more connected to nature than to your own people. 'They never understood' you'd think. ‘They will never see the world as I see it'.

Anyway, all of that wasn't going to change, so you had to take what was given to you and make the most out of it. Lila and you went to Ana, she was distracted with the preparations for the expedition. This time, from what Lila had told you, they were going to look for more survivors and other bunkers to see if those had more medicine.

"Ana, mind if we talk to you for a moment?" Lila asked

"What? Yeah, sure. What's up?" Ana said absent-mindedly while she tripled checked the supplies. It looked like they were going for some months at least.

Lila looked at you and pushed you softly, and nodded at you when you looked back. You took a deep breath and spoke.

"So...Ana, I heard about the expedition and I wanted to know why you hadn’t called for me? You know I'm one of the best people to take in things like that. I can survive pretty well on my own while I'm outside."

Ana sighed and stopped what she was doing.

"Y/N, you know the reason, I need you here, protecting everyone else" She said while putting her hands on your shoulders

"No one ever comes close to this place since we put the electric fence around! Let me go!"

"Y/N" Lila spat at me. "Careful with your words!"

I just stared at her with anger.

"You have absolutely no good reason to not let me go. Please, I can really help if something goes wrong!"

Ana didn't have a comeback for that, she knew what you were saying was right, she knew how helpfull you could be, and still the promise she had made to your mother drilled into her head could not allow you to go with them. You were already in your twenties, now there was no good excuse to tell you to stay and Ana knew this. She sighed again and with a very sad tone agreed to your request. You were going with them, and that was that.

----------‐-----------------

-The next morning-

Ana and Aaron, parents of Kiara, were the ones in charge of this expedition. Samantha, Lila, Carlos, Seth (Samantha's uncle), and you were the rest of the group.

You went to get your stuff ready on Envy, the mare that was meant to be yours, but for some reason you had decided to give her to Kiara, still, she thought of Envy as a shared horse more than her own. Kiar knew how much you loved her, and she didn't mind giving her to you in times like this.

"Take care of each other, ride safely." Kiara said with a smile on her face while petting the side of the mare.

"We will, sis, we'll be back before you know it. Anything special you want me to look for?"

Kiara shook her head. " I just need you to come back to me, that's it."

"Aaww dear, of course I will." You said hugging little Kiara.

You loved her, she was the only one that understood you and never judged you. One day you were going to take her exploring with you, so you could show her everything you loved.

Two weeks passed. Everyone was a little on edge since the news of contact had gotten to you. Apparently, a week ago the satellites started working again and your walkie-talkies that you carried mostly just to feel like you were connected somehow started working again. The people on the bunker told Ana and Aaron that a girl, similar age to you and Lila, had found the missing piece to get satellite connection back on. We knew about the bunker on the east but we had little contact with them and the nomads that were looking for ways to communicate with each other had been murder by a big group of apes, but apparently one of the girls of the nomad group had survived and, with the help of some apes, was able to get to where the main computers where locked and retrieve de disc.

This news had everyone in our group freaked out, it had been a long time since we had been able to communicate over long distances. Some were happy about it, they were thinking that this way we were going to able to rebuilt what was ours, but others were weary of what other humans wanted. 'Humans are selfish and will do anything to get power' Others thought.

Our group tried to maintain calm during all this, we still had to find supplies and medicine that was not going to arrive even if we had connection with other humans. More people meant more food, more space needed and more medicine that we did not have to spare.

At night everyone was silently eating what you had hunted for the day. You were pretty good at using different weapons, but your favorite was the bow and arrow, you almost never missed unless you wanted to. The others had guns, and some knives with them, but most of them knew that using guns out hear meant that everything in a 1km radius or more could hear and pinpoint our location.

"We could've been eating earlier if we had used my gun, I never miss" Samantha spoke showing a cocky grin to you.

You just rolled your eyes at her.

"If we had done your way, every single ape around here would've come looking for us." Seth said calmingly.

Samantha hated it when he agreed with your methods, and you knew it; in a way, it made you proud when he did. He would always be om Samantha's side and agree with her, he never liked agreeing with you, but sometimes he just had to.

"You should be thanking Y/N for her quick thinking. Otherwise, we would've had to eat the dried-up food we brought, and I don't think anybody wanted more of that" Ana said laughing at the end. The rest of the group followed making faces of disgust and laughing at the comment of our leader.

"How long until we get to the big buildings?" Lila asked when everyone had calmed down

"Sadly, I think we'll have to go back. Ana and I have been thinking about it and it's better to be with everyone else at the moment." Aaron answered

"Uncertain times call for unity." Ana added

Seth nodded and kept eating.

You were thinking. The group needed medicine, and other things...maybe a tiny group could keep pushing forward while the adults went back.

"And what if some of us stayed? You said it yourself Aaron, we are a week away from the buildings and we need everything we can find over there. A small group will not be noticed as easily as all of us" you said.

You had a point, and they knew it. After some discussion, the leaders agreed, Lila and you could keep going, the rest was to go back with them. Samantha was going to disagree, but she knew better than to stay with you two. Lila and you were inseparable, and Samantha would only be outnumbered in any decision you made.

The next morning everyone gave you half of their rations for food since you two were going to need them more than them, and then they set off for the bunker.

Lila and you waved at them, and then kept going.

For some time, it was quiet between you two, but Lila was not going to let that be.

"Sooo, wanna race?" Lila said with a sparkle in her eyes.

You knew what that meant. The idea was in her mind, now you could only accept the challenge.

"I mean...It's kind of unfair. Char is not meant for sprinting" you said with a grin.

"And Envy is?" Lila replied

"Oh, I know she's faster that Char." You said, knowing full well that she was fast in short distances and Lila was thinking more of a long-distance race.

"Well, then start! See you at the end!" Lila said kicking softly the side of her mare that sprinted away.

"Hey no fair!" You yelled doing the same with Envy.

You passed trees and creeks so fast you felt like you were going to fall off the horse. Impressively you were just behind Lila and Char, who was galloping with all her might.

You were so enthralled by how fast Char was going that you barely missed a branch that could've hit you down.

Eventually Lila made Char stop. You kept going, but Lila screamed at you to stop.

"What? I thought we were going to end?" You said out of breath riding back to where they were.

"Look up" She said, almost like a whisper.

You did and saw tall buildings in front of you all covered in vines and trees. The trees had broken some of the sediments of the building but were also holding them up. Most of them were broken, and some had collapsed, probably by the sheer size of them.

"Wow, they are amazing" Lila said.

There were rows of them, all conquered back by nature itself. It was beautiful to see how two completely opposite things could come together to create art. All green and grey together forming structures that you had never seen before.

You were both still gawking at the immensity of the buildings when you heard a noise up in the sky. Eagles, huge and magnificent eagles. You had seen some flying around on your own little excursions, but now they were closer than ever.

"Should we follow them?" Lila whispered, this was unknown territory to her, this was more your area of interest.

"Mmm maybe for a while just to see where they take us." You said firmly. " We can also walk and get in some of these buildings to see if we find something" You added.

Lila nodded and dismounted Char, you followed suit. Both of you took the reins of each mare and pulled gently so they kept up with the pace you set.

Three days you walked and searched for supplies with no luck. You tried entering every building you could, but some of them where to destroy to even walk on the floor. Others had entrances that were too high for either of you to climb, and if you did climb the hard part later was going down.

"Thank goodness you came prepared, Y/N." Lila said, struggling while climbing down a rope.

"Don't mention it, just keep going we're almost at the bottom" You said short of breath. You were no stranger to climbing but doing it almost every day for 3 days was taking its toll on you.

Lila let go of the rope and landed on the ground huffing.

"We can't keep doing this, Y/N. It's too tiring. We aren't apes to be climbing around without a care in the world!"

"I know I know, but we've found some good stuff nonetheless" You said as you stretched out after jumping off the rope, you went back and pulled the rope 2 times so it could fall off the makeshift hook you had made to tie it up.

"Some expired painkillers and a bunch of gardening tools is NOT good stuff!"

Lila sighed, even though you’d a nice time sharing this little adventure together you were starting to feel hopeless. Maybe it was time to go back, maybe the others had gotten supplies from the other camp, and you were doing nothing out here but waste time.

"Lila…you can go you know?" You said softly cleaning some arrows that you had used to hunt rabbits earlier.

"What? And leave you here?? Are you insane?!"

"No… I just feel like my time here is not over yet. Yours though…"

"Nu uh, I'm not leaving you alone, we don't even know where exactly we are."

"It's my decision Lila"

"Bullshit! I know you love nature and such, but everyone is waiting for us!"

"Everyone?" You said lowering your head.

Lila didn't answer, she knew that most of the people treated you like an outsider. No one ever told her why, the only reason she could think of wad that you had no family left alive, but that was a cruel way of treating your own kind.

"Fine, I'll take what we found back. What do you expect me to say to the rest when you don't arrive with me huh?" Lila asked

"You tell them half the truth, that I simply didn't want to come back"

"That's the 'half-truth' to you?"

"Ok ok," you said rolling your eyes. " Tell them you begged me to go back, and I said I would keep looking for stuff for a couple more days, then you never met again with me"

"Mmm, alright. So, you got killed?"

"What?! No! Idiot" You said pushing her playfully. Lila just chuckled.

"I'm gonna miss you (Y/nickname)." Lila sniffled while hugging you.

You hugged her back with some tears in your eyes.

"I'll be back before you know it, I promise"

Lila waved goodbye to you while riding Char out of the jungle of buildings, you waved back until you couldn't see her anymore.

After that you kept searching for anything really for a couple of days, until one day the promises you had made to Lila and Kiara were going to be broken.

–----------------------------------------

One day while you were scavenging around in a building you heard noises, noises you hadn't heard before. You took Envy and hid her next to some bushes at the side of a building and tried to keep her relaxed.

As the noise came closer it became clearer: apes.

You never really had contact with them since you were always cradled inside the bunker. The only experience you had was the stories people would tell you, but once you started growing up you stopped believing everything the adults told you.

You were a little apprehensive about the situation at hand but as long as Envy obeyed you, you were sure the apes would pass as quickly as they came.

"You only try to show off when climbing, the other things you just avoid!" A female voice said

"Not true! Anaya never avoids challenges, right Noa?" A male voiced reply

'Anaya and Noa' you made a mental note of the names, not sure why. You heard them walking away so you went out of your hiding place little by little, looking around you just in case you needed to hide from them.

From where you were you could see 3 apes; one had an armband different than the other two. You felt bad spying on them, but your curiosity got the best of you. You kept listening in the conversation, but you also noticed they would sign sometimes and that got lost in translation. The only signs you knew were tactical warfare signs that Aaron had thaught you when you were learning about weapons with Lila and Samantha.

"Soona is right, Anaya always showing off then running away when something goes wrong" The third one spoke, another male. After that the three started making a noise that you could only compare to laugh.

"I'll show you, climb to top to see sunset. First one wins!" The other male said running in all fours and starting to climb the building in front of you with ease.

"Anaya wait!" The female voice shouted but followed right behind him.

The other male chuckled and followed his friends up the building.

You were mesmerized by how athletic and big they were, but something inside you also wanted to follow them so you could see at least one sunset. The past days you've had missed all of them because of the tall canopy, but not today. The renewed strength gave you confidence that you could climb to the top of the building you were hiding behind.

You took your trusty rope and, your bow and some arrows just in case they attacked you and started climbing up. The building that you had chosen was in pretty good state, it still had most of its stairs and you didn't have to jump too far from one part of some broken stairs to another, which would also be handy when climbing down.

About 3 floors from getting to the top, you encountered the biggest problem: no more stairs. They were all broken or looked very unstable, your best option to climb up was the outside of the building. The design made it look like a stair, and if you went a little bit over the edge that was keeping you from falling you could see a metal hook thingy in which you could tie a rope to climb down.

First you made a knot at the end of the rope with just enough space to insert it in the hook, after that you threw that end of the rope with just enough strength to get it to where you needed it. It took you 3 attempts, but eventually you made it and started climbing the rope. Your hands were already tired from days before, but the view would make it all worth it.

Eventually when you were halfway through something made a weird noise. At first you didn't pay much attention to it but then y sounded again and this time you felt the rope moving. The hook couldn't withstand your weight anymore, and you could feel it just pulling down.

You tried to keep taking deep breaths but that was not working, they were faster than before.

*crack*

You looked up and saw the rope sliding off the hook even farther than before, that was when you started panicking. Your breathing wasn't steady anymore and now you were seconds away from falling from the almost top of the building.

A piece of the building where the hook was gave up and you let go of the rope for milliseconds and eventually grabbed the rope but it burned because of the friction, and you screamed in pain.

Noa and his friends, who were happily watching the sunset, looked at each other when you screamed. The three of them looked around for the thing that had made such a horrible sound but couldn't see anything.

You tried climbing up again, but now your hands were bloody from the fall, and you were slipping from the rope. You were in agony.

"Please, not like this, I can't die like this" You said to yourself trying to reassure yourself that you were not going to die.

That's when Noa heard you and looked over the building, he signaled his friends to jump to the other building.

"She will die if we don't help," Soona said with worry.

" What do we do?" Anaya asked Noa.

Noa went to were the rope was tied.

"Please don't kill me!" You shouted, looking up seeing one of the apes.

Noa frowned his face but kept trying to pull you up.

You understood then he was trying to help, but you knew the extra weight on the now unstable floor was not going to help.

"No, let go! You'll make it worse!" You tried to explain with tears rolling down your face. You couldn't stand the pain anymore.

Eventually the rope itself started tearing up, you were about 15 meters from the ground, you knew it was unlikely to survive that fall, your only hope was now with the 3 apes that were trying to help.

You saw the male ape trying, again, to pull you up, but it was useless with the rope tearing, and that's when it happened.

The rope tore apart, and you started to fall, your only hope for surviving was the trees below you would cushion your fall enough for you not to die. The only thing you were able to come up with was using your left arm to cover your neck as best you could.

Silence. Silence followed after your fall. Anaya was the first one to get to you and he poked you with a stick.

Soona quickly took the stick from him and went to check if you were still alive. She saw that you were still breathing thankfully. But your left forearm was completely broken.

"What happens now?" Soona asked Noa.

Noa was not sure what to do, his instincts told him to leave you there to die, after all, you were Echo. You would only mean problems to the clan, but there was another part of him that felt responsible for you and wanted to help you out.

"We take her home, help her wounds. After that, she has to leave." Noa said to Soona.

Soona nodded and took your frail body, and the three friends started their journey back home, back to Eagle Clan.

[beelmons]

i’m begging on my knees for reader w/ a hand kink🙏🏻 i’m down bad for spencer reid’s hands

"The buttons are just so small!" Spencer complained.

"And yet, you refuse to get an iPhone." JJ mocked him.

"And end up with no buttons? No thanks." he said as he continued to struggle writing a text message that Hotch needed.

You, few meters away, were delighted to see him still grapple with the device. The reason? the way his fingers moved was just a sight to behold.

Having a hand kink was hard when the person you wanted to bone the most had such gorgeous assets, it was even worse that he sat in front of you during work and you were forced to look at them almost every day.

Granted, you had learned to behave yourself, you were no animal, but when your hormones took control over you during an specific time of the month, it was impossible to control the way your body reacted.

Hence, why you had to push your legs together, trying to hide from the world the fact that you were pooling in between your legs. It was hard not to imagine his slender fingers trailing up your thighs as you sat in the conference room, teasingly slowl, painfully high. You always pictured him as a tease, the kind of man to drive you mad with want before even properly touching you.

You had dreamed of the day you finally were able to seduce him, to persuade him to do his will with your body, to have him so drunk on you he had no choice but to take at least one part you wherever you were.

You indulged in the unlikely scenario of being in a hidden corridor, one no other soul would visit, having your pussy defiled by the extremities of his hand, so velvety and uncomplicated, as if it had waited a lifetime for their presence.

You fantasized about his touch on your cheek, sweetly feeling the warmth you emitted, tender and loving, all before they slipped past your lips, ordering you to suck as he pounded into you with relentless hips. All while his other limb curled around your your throat, allowing you to have his ethereal digits as a collar.

"...okay?" you heard the faint echo of his voice, as you had many times when your vivid imagination took control.

"...are you okay?" okay, perhaps it was all too clear, all too real.

Your head darted out. Without realizing, you had hidden them behind folded arms on your desk.

"I've been calling your name." he clarified, with worry, as you looked at him "Are you alright? You look flushed."

Sort of pathetic to not be able to handle a single fantasy without turning into a mess. But, alas, reality was not a fanfic someone else could control to mash you together, was it?

"I'm alright." you managed to say.

"I think I should take you to the infirmary." as his hands darted out to touch your forehead you couldn't help but flinch.

"I'm okay, Spencer." you gently moved his arm away, if he touched you any longer you would have had to take care of it yourself, and the FBI bathroom was not exactly the cleanest, contrary to popular belief.

"If I can do anything to help..." he tried to reassure you.

'You could let me jump on your fingers' you thought, but that was certainly not an approved treatment for the cold he obviously thought you had. You did your best to put on a smile and grab at his forearm with gratitude.

"You know what? One of these days, I'll take you up on that and leave myself in your capabe hands." you teased, and he, of course, completely missed your inuendo.

"Can't wait!"

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Can you please do a jim fanfic ? I love all your Cillian fanfics . Well write like you wrote that story jim meets you in an ally to ... I love that 🫠

warnings: smut below the cut, spanking, abuse of power, age gap, reader is 18 and Jim's daughters friend, punishment, p in v, fingering, orgasm denial, daddy!kink, dubcon/noncon, dacryphylia, erotophobia, virgin!reader, anal

Thank you for the request, hope this is what you were looking for!

Hearing the door open, Jim reeled himself away from the dreadful paperwork he had to fill out for a client that was more than unfavorable. Turning his attention to Maggie prancing in the room wearing a pair of shorts that were showing far too much skin for a father to be comfortable with.

"Darling what are you-" The teenager was quick to peck her dad on the cheek before shouting back in response that she was going to take a shower after playing part in a soccer game. What explained her outfit was you following behind her with an earbud in, a crop-top pressing your cleavage up while your ass cheeks were barely being held in from the black mini skirt around your waist.

He had never thought you were a very good influence on his daughter who tried all too hard to fit in just like any other typical teenager but he wanted to be a better father than that, you just seemed to make that an impossible challenge and he was fed up.

Being a father figure to someone who wasn’t his daughter was difficult. You had been around the family your whole life, mum always busy with work, your biological dad never around once your mum left him because of alcoholism. He felt bad for you, he really did but that didn’t mean he’d let this slide any longer.

Before you could get past into the next room, he stopped you from his seat with a protruding, deep voice.

"Hold on, back up tare eh?" Rolling your eyes, you turned around helping yourself to a leftover smoothie in the fridge while leaning against the counter, not even paying him any attention, aggravating him more.

He scoffed from your lack of manners, raising his hand up from the table in irritation and raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"Care to explain to me what in the fuck she is wearing?" Still no response, instead putting in another earbud to drown your friend's overly protective father out. He needed to learn to relax, to let Maggie live a little bit she was only a year younger than you, soon to be an adult.

Hearing the shower run, Jim pushed himself up out his seat, huffing in annoyance, he had dealt with your behavior and disrespect for his rules for far too long. Before you had a chance to react his large hand wrapped around your forearm, practically dragging you toward the bedroom and tossing you inside carelessly.

"What the fuck! Y'know you have some real anger issues, I mean-" He cut you off abruptly, his hand wrapping around the small of your throat while his free hand glided down the nape of your back, pulling you in and closing the proximity between the two of you roughly.

Your heart pattered anxiously against his chest, your confidence and attitude suddenly disappearing, when his fingers grazed over your ass, and his sapphire, hallowed eyes darkened, reading you like a book.

Surely with how nervous you were in this situation, you weren't experienced and he could tell with being a well aged man himself.

"What's ta matter? Nothin' else ta say now with that snarky tongue?" You gulped, trying to replenish the ginormous lump in your throat. You were in danger, and scanned the room for an escape plan but Jim was a wise man and much stronger than yourself. Still stood speechless, he walked you backwards until your legs hit the sides of the bed, causing your bum to falter down onto the mattress while he still had a hold of you.

"Please don't. I-I've never had sex and I-I'm scared to. I don't want to-" He chuckled lightly, the feeling of his fingers fumbling with your zipper, freezing you in your feeble position beneath his muscular body.

"Then consider this a lesson not to dress like a fucking whore in me fucking house. You're not going to make a sound, wouldn't want your mother to think you came onto me would you? She doesn't trust you after all right? Troublesome girl." He could feel your thighs shaking underneath him in fear, and how your eyes revealed the true palpable fear you felt. What choice did you have but to obey?

Staying quiet, he breathed in your alluring strawberry scent as he yanked your panties and shorts down, the thin fabric falling onto the floor, leaving you completely exposed and at his mercy.

Gasping in alarm, he flipped you over effortlessly onto your stomach. His fingers slid down your ass, to your sex, caressing in-between your dry folds, dabbling one of the tips into your cunt without any lubrication. You tensed, a ringing alarm pounding through your head at the sudden intrusion.

"You're going to have to loosen up, we don't have long." He plunged himself further into your tight, warm abyss, hand combing through the strands of your hair while yanking your head back, his lips dusting over your ear, as his fingers picked up pace. It hurt immensely, a stinging pain vibrating through you while his two fingers worked mercilessly at your cunt, ass cheeks jiggling with each powerful thrust. You had to bite down onto the pillow to keep quiet and hide the pain.

“Good girl..” Once his fingers exited you, he swung his hand back and in one vigorous motion cracking down on your ass cheek, bum turning a bright shade of red within seconds. As if he knew you were going to scream he cupped your mouth closed with one hand while unbuckling his pants with the other.

When the thick head of his cock popped out eagerly, slapping against your folds, you couldn't hold back the tears any longer when they flowed freely down your rosy cheeks. Hands inching toward the opposite end of the mattress, you attempted to pull away from his touch, eyebrows furrowing together in defeat when the older man simply chuckled, grasping your wrists with one hand holding them in place behind your back.

"Ah, ah, ah. You need to learn darling. Can't expect a man to watch women flaunt themselves with such skimpish clothing and have nothing happen." You were hoping and praying to hear the shower water shut off, for Maggie to be done so he couldn't get as far as to insert himself in your innocent rose.

You screeched when he his long shaft inside descended abruptly into your dry, but oh so tight canal. At this point, you were hyperventilating, nostrils flaring from the insurmountable pain and sudden intrusion.

The sight of you so helpless, so petrified beneath him assured him that you would indeed learn your lesson. Jim hadn't given you a moment to adjust either, pumping in and out of you slowly at first, watching your cunt take his cock so well, the sight of his lengthy member disappearing every second or so inside of you while your ass cheeks vibrated around him. The warmth of your pussy consuming him, unable to contain himself from releasing a throaty, low groan.

"Fuck love, such a good girl." Another powerful hit to your ass, while he bottomed out, rutting into your aching pussy persistently. He needed to see your tears, see how much you were frightened. Grabbing hastily at your sides, he flipped you over, reinserting himself. His persistent blue eyes locking with yours in a desirable, fiery gaze. You couldn't stop yourself from glancing down, watching his cock dominate and use you with no remorse. The new position, turning the pain into a slight sense of pleasure.

"Fuck daddy.." When you released a gasp of pleasure Jim's eyebrows raised in devilish surprise. Oh he was going to have with this...

"Daddy, eh? What a dirty whore." His eyes focused on your breasts bouncing up and down sporadically, lips agape from the building pleasure. He was hitting just the right spot, the head of his dick brushing against your g spot, but when he noticed you were already close like a petulant child, well that just wouldn't do. This was supposed to be a punishment not a reward.

The sound of the shower water stopping, had his head snapping toward the door. Knowing now he didn't have long, he needed to get off, needed to see you cry, and learn.

"Bad girls don't get to cum.." He pulled out, realigning himself with the hole that God had intended for shitting, bringing the panic washing back down on you, but he held you in place with a stern look and grabbing your chin.

"What did I say? Do you want me to speak with your mum?"

"No! No please I'll-" After the affirmation, he pushed inside your taint forcefully, knowing that this one was going to hurt. He wanted to fucking wreck you, make you never want to disobey him again. Your whole body tensed as you bit down on your bottom to hold back from screaming, the salty tears landing on your lips while your mascara rained down your face. Crying as he fucked into your tight hole, abusing you, and stretching you pass anything you dreamed imaginable. Your ass felt like it was being ripped a part but relief came when Jim's head fell back, not lasting nearly as long before his cum was shooting up your anal cavity, painting your insides white like dreadful piece of art.

When he pulled out you merely fell onto the floor, crumbling into pieces while your hand rested underneath your ass to make the blow to the floor not so bad, his cum leaking out onto your shaking hand. Sighing, Jim pulled up his pants, checking himself in the mirror before turning back to you.

"Get yourself together. Daddy has to go tend to some work. Remember this is our little secret, or else." He slammed the door closed behind him, leaving you crying on the floor trying to pick up the broken pieces of your stolen virginity, trying to come up with some rhyme or reason of how you would continue to come visit your best friend or stay the night. If you didn't surely Maggie would think she had done something wrong that you wouldn't want to be friends with her.

After a few moments, and a quick rinse off of your face in the mirror, you made your way back to the kitchen to find Jim sitting back at his laptop at work, acting normal, like what had just happened wasn't a crime. He knew he had the upper hand.

Maggie turned to you with a concern look. "Are you alright y/n, dad told me you had fallen ill and you look a bit pale." Jim all of a sudden became concerned, asking if there was anything they could do for you. When you shook your head no, Maggie had gotten up insisting on making you a cup of hot tea with honey, leaving you alone with Jim once again. You wrapped your hands around your legs, wincing from the pain in your bum on the wooden chair.

Jim couldn't help but release a chuckle, sipping from his coffee, no remorse present in his sadistic gaze, changing back to normal when Maggie reentered the room.

"So y/n, learn anything new today?"

[cripplecharacters]

I'm writing a Harry Potter Fanfic where Harry is deaf. He mostly communicates through either writing stuff down or with BSL. He can sorta lip read, but isn't that good at it. However, because of magic, I'm trying to be careful with other things because I'm worried of falling into the magical fix-it trope.

The sorting hat sorta talks in his head, but he's also sorta seeing BSL and its confusing, but it's also a one off instance, so I think that ones fine. There's one spell that can just project words, but it's not good for conversations because you need to know everything that will be said before you cast the spell, and that's often not how talking works. Harry also just doesn't know this spell. I'm only using this spell for stuff like Quidditch (Madam Hooch's announcements at the start, and the score keeping), and at the sorting ceremony to write down names.

The one I'm most worried about is the parseltongue. I want to keep Harry able to talk to snakes, it was sorta a big part of the original story. With how I have it right now, Harry basically gets what the snake is saying projected into his head (a baffling experience for someone who never hears anything), and later Harry will figure out how to project his thoughts back. I'm worried about this being a magical fix-it. It's not like Harry can do this with anyone else, and snakes don't understand other humans, so it's a conversation that no one else can participate in. It's not a super big part of the fic right now, but I'm wondering if it's okay to leave in?

Additionally, I do want to get in contact with someone who is deaf to beta read this before I ever publish it, but I'm not sure how to do so.

Hi!

Thank you for putting so much thought into this!

I'm confused about the projecting words spell--is this a sort of magical captioning system?

I think, given the nature of snakes and hats not having hands, this is the instance in which some amount of "magic telepathy" communication would be okay. For the hat, I think BSL "appearing" in his mind would be okay, since the hat talks to everyone. Snakes don't use human language though. Perhaps concepts or visual images in his mind would be the best way to showcase this.

I'm confused about you describing the snake encounters as a "baffling experience for someone who never hears anything" for two reasons:

The first is that full deafness is really very rare. Likely, Harry will have some residual hearing. (It's not impossible to be completely deaf, of course, but people often misunderstand that even for most profoundly deaf individuals there are still things that they can hear even unaided--usually loud sounds and/or sounds at specific pitches--although the quality of what they hear may be really murky or quiet, and they often have difficulty identifying and understanding sound, even if they can hear it.)

Secondly, why would the snake's message be auditory? Projection into the mind will likely have to be in a method of thoughts that he understands. Most hearing people think auditorially, but d/Deaf people often think in sign if they know it, or visually. How Harry thinks will really depend on how much residual hearing he had growing up, whether he learned to speak, whether he learned to read, when he learned BSL and if it was his first language, what his connection to Deaf community in the non-magical world is, and other factors.

I think it would be also interesting to explore accessibility and ableism in the magic world also. If Harry communicates in BSL, he should have an interpreter at school. Is it hard to find a BSL interpreter who is also a wizard? (I only read the books once as a kid, but if I remember correctly, the magic world is pretty separate.) Does the wizarding world have a sign language, and does Harry learn that? Or is the predominant thinking "use magic and make everyone hearing", and Harry would have to fight against that as someone proud of his Deaf identity? There's a lot to think about!

Mod Rock

[pascaloverx]

To Begin Again

FOURTEEN

Summary: You're a new teacher at a large and influential school. It's a risky step for you, as you've been running from your ex for almost two years. But when Dumbledore asks you to take on a class at the renowned Hogwarts, you can't refuse. However, your life as a newly arrived teacher won't be easy. Especially when the other teachers don't seem eager to make friends. Or rather, two teachers in particular: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Author's Note: Welcome, dear readers. Please leave your comments if you enjoy fanfiction. This fanfic takes place almost in the real world (with the addition of werewolves) and is not a wizarding fanfic. There will be some differences and changes in things from the Harry Potter story or other fanfics in the HP universe, but I promise to do my best writing this fanfic. There will be a love triangle coming in this fanfic. So, dear readers, just as in this fanfic it's meant to imagine Remus Lupin as being Andrew Garfield and Sirius Black as being Ben Barnes, now I present to you the fancast of Severus Snape as being actor Enzo Vogrincic. Imagine him as Snape if you can.

THIRTEEN FIFTEEN

Your childhood wasn't easy, even though your parents loved you. This was because they didn't love each other. Your father always had a secret passion for his old college friend, Dumbledore. He spoke about Dumbledore with such tenderness that it was almost impossible for you not to realize they loved each other. When you were little, you used to ask your father when he would take you to meet Uncle Dumbledore. Your mother would get furious about this. They would argue, and your father would usually disappear for a few days. But he always came back. It took you almost fifteen years to realize he returned for your sake. Their marriage only held together because they wanted to be good parents to you. Fortunately, your father eventually realized that the love of his life was more important than living a lie. After that, you learned to split your time between your father and your mother. Amidst all this, your father decided to help you distance yourself from Snape by asking Dumbledore to hire you as a replacement for Lily Potter as the art teacher. This brings you to your current moment, where you find yourself teaching your students to ride beautiful horses because your father told Dumbledore it wasn’t fair for you to punch your student’s father and not receive any punishment.

"Professor, what are we doing outside the classroom, surrounded by horses?" Draco asks with a look of disdain for the situation. He obviously knows that he's going to have to ride the horses, given that everyone is wearing equestrian attire.

"You don't need to be a genius to figure out that we're going to ride the horses. Or do you think they gave us these fancy, tight clothes for no apparent reason?" Harry responds, adjusting his glasses and looking at Draco with a decidedly arrogant expression.

"Look who learned to give sassy replies. For your information, Potter, this outfit isn't that fancy, and it's probably tight on you because you put it on wrong. Which definitely disqualifies you from judging anyone else's genius. Now if you'll excuse me—or even if you won't." Draco speaks confidently and quickly adjusts Harry's outfit with surprising efficiency. You're even a bit shocked to see them interacting this way. Sure, the way they talk to each other is still ruder than you'd like, but they seem to be improving.

"You'll be horseback riding today by order of Headmaster Dumbledore. I did some horseback riding during my teenage years, and now I'll be teaching you how to ride. First, let's get the horses familiar with you. Who wants to volunteer to go first?" you say, positioning the horse next to you and adjusting the saddle. After checking that everything is in order, you see a line of students stepping back from you. Poor things, they're scared.

"Is there any chance I can escape this activity due to feeling queasy in high places?" Draco asks, pretending to sway. He's a mediocre actor, but his effort is nice to see. When he glances at you to see if you've fallen for his act, you simply shake your head, disapproving of his little performance. Harry laughs almost too loudly, while Ron, standing behind them, rolls his eyes.

"Now that Malfoy has finished his show, can we get back to focusing on the activity?" Ron Weasley says, teasing Draco. Draco seems irritated by Ron's comment but appears to ignore it. Hermione promptly raises her hand, volunteering to be the first to mount the horse.

"Granger, put your foot in the stirrup, and I'll give you a boost to get into the saddle. Once you're on the horse, make sure to hold firmly onto the reins," you say, helping your student mount the horse. Within minutes, she's already riding. After much reluctance, your other students are riding almost comfortably. The last to mount a horse is Draco, who needed to watch his peers enjoy themselves before deciding to trust you and the horse. But at some point, between Weasley bragging about his bravery and Harry appearing very excited.

"Are you sure this animal won't hurt me?" Draco asks as he leans on you to climb onto the horse. You giggle and then look at him, trying to show confidence even though he is scared.

"I will be close to you at all times. As long as you treat this horse with affection and trust, he will reciprocate. If you want, you can touch the horse to find out." You say, petting the horse that Draco is riding. Draco makes a serious face but seems to give you a vote of confidence, petting the horse as you are. The horse neighs slightly, and Draco withdraws his hand, but you firmly hold the horse while gesturing for Draco to continue holding the reins tightly.

"Malfoy, stop being a coward and come on!" Harry shouts as he enjoys riding through the forest, staying close to Draco. Draco then begins to ride slowly, being guided by you. It's clear from his face that he wants to keep up with Potter but is still hesitant.

"Potter, pay attention to what you're doing and leave me alone. Professor Y/L/N is the one insisting on having my company for longer. It's not my fault that you're a mediocre student and she prefers to stay close to me," Draco responds pompously, as if he's getting extra attention for being an incredible student. It's funny how the two are always getting on each other's nerves.

"Boys, it would be more appropriate for both of you to mind your own business, at least while you're learning to ride. And I can assure you that there's no favoritism on my part with any student. I helped Harry just as I'm helping you, Draco," you say as you start to let Draco ride on his own. He keeps his eyes focused, watching both Harry and the horse intently.

When confidence finally kicks in, Draco rides more skillfully, chasing after the other students as if it were a race. The truth is, none of them were very far ahead, so it almost looks like a line of horses being ridden by students. You then try to help other students. Hermione is so confident with her horse that she even goes over a large branch with it. Ron is learning to communicate with his horse, which is reluctant to move. You give the horse some affection and lead it to drink some water before Ron can ride it again and manage to trot along smoothly this time. Pansy seems very confident in her riding skills, so when she tries to make the horse jump and it only neighs, you have to tell her that horses need to build a bond with their riders before performing great feats. Luna seemed so out of sync with her horse that at times it was as if the horse was guiding her. She was enchanted by some trees and plants she found in the forest. Harry and Draco, after a while, began to ride around each other. Harry's horse had white fur, and Draco's had dark fur. It was almost as if they completed each other. Everything was fine for a moment until you heard a loud noise, like someone firing a shot into the air.

"Kids, hold tight to the reins and stay calm. I'm going to get each of you off your horses," you say as you observe the horses becoming agitated. Some neighed, others just shied away. With agility, you managed to calm most of the horses in time to help the students dismount. Only Draco and Harry were left on their horses when something hit Draco's horse. The shock was so great that the horse bolted, carrying a very scared and screaming Draco with it.

Immediately, you look at Harry, and with a non-verbal agreement, you mount his horse while he stands in front of you. There's no time to waste, so this is the best you can do. "The path to Hogwarts is along this trail ahead of you. Go there and get a professor to check on the horses. Hermione, make sure to inform them that there was a gunshot. Stay there; Potter and I will bring Draco back." You shout as you prepare to go after Malfoy. You hold the reins firmly and set off in pursuit of Draco's horse.

"I think I can see Draco's horse from here, Professor. It's on our right, heading towards the stream," Harry says, so focused on helping you save Draco that he's practically become a tracker. You ride quickly, trying to keep Harry secure so he doesn't fall. You take a shortcut when you notice the horse is heading towards the place where you first transformed. You quickly arrive at the spot where Draco's horse is headed and, when you arrive, you stop it from moving forward by using your horse and Harry's as a blockade.

"Calm down, boy. Calm down," you say soothingly as you dismount. Draco's horse seems to obey you after a few whinnies. The horse is stressed but calms down enough to allow you to get Draco off. Malfoy has trapped his arm in the reins, probably while desperately trying to stop the horse. He's groaning in pain but visibly relieved that you're there.

"You should thank the professor before whining like a baby. We saved you from a real mess," Potter says while still adjusting himself in the saddle. Malfoy takes advantage of the fact that you’re focused on improvising a bandage for his arm and throws a rock at Potter. For some reason, Harry had taken off his helmet, so the rock hits him squarely on the forehead.

“Oops, wasn’t meant to hit you for real,” Malfoy says, and you finally finish bandaging him before heading over to Potter, who is holding his hand over his forehead. You remove Potter’s hand from the injury and see blood oozing from it.

“Son of a bitch, pathetic egotist,” Harry yells, holding his hand against his forehead and murmuring in pain. After finishing bandaging Draco, you take a handkerchief from Malfoy’s pocket and press it against Harry’s forehead to staunch the bleeding.

"Before you two kill each other, let's head back to Hogwarts. Draco, lean on me, and I'll help you onto the horse. Harry, keep that handkerchief pressed to your forehead with one hand and hold the reins with the other. I'll guide both of you and the other horse. Don't do anything stupid," you say with a certain authority. The two seem to listen, and minutes later, Draco finds himself clinging to Potter to avoid falling off the horse. In silence, for the first time, you all make your way back to Hogwarts. When you arrive at the school's entrance, Sirius is anxiously waiting for you.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asks, coming very close to you, his concern evident. He takes the horse from your hands, and for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you there.

"Black, Professor Y/L/N is fine, but your godson and I are injured. So, if you could stop flirting for a moment," Draco says irritably. You and Sirius look at him, surprised by his words. Harry uses one of his hands, previously holding the handkerchief to his forehead, to slap Malfoy, who winces in pain.

"Malfoy, to you it's either Professor Black or Cousin Sirius. Now shut your mouth and lean on me," Sirius grumbles, picking Draco up as if he were a small child seeking comfort. With Malfoy in his arms, Sirius carries him inside. You quickly approach Harry and help him down from the horse. The bleeding on his forehead seems to have decreased significantly. You assist Harry into the school, and you all head to the infirmary. After handing the boys over to the nurses, Madam Pomfrey asks you and Sirius to wait outside.

"You surprised me today. Acting irresponsibly, putting your safety at risk. Including taking my godson along," Sirius reprimands you. You look at him and laugh, which might seem strange but makes sense to you at the moment.

"You are something else, you know. I thought you were genuinely worried about me, but it's just another way for you to accuse me of doing something wrong. It's wrong for me to bite Lupin, it's wrong for me to use your godson's horse to rescue your cousin in the forest, it's wrong for me to exist. I'll never do anything you think is right." You laugh as you speak. It's almost a joke, being constantly criticized by Sirius.

"I was worried about you. I admit I’m hard on you, probably because I want to push you away. But when our students came back terrified and told me there was a shot fired, and that you ran off after Draco and took Harry with you, I feared for you. I don't want to lose you, just as I don't want to lose my godson or my cousin. Somehow, I've grown attached to you as if you were mine. But I keep messing up with you." Sirius says, handing you a cigarette from his pants pocket. You don't usually smoke, but while trying not to worry about your students, you think a cigarette might ease the tension.

"Maybe you just push me away because you don't want to commit to me, at least not romantically. Maybe we should try to be just friends, without any romantic tension." you say while taking a drag from the cigarette, facing the open window near the chairs in the waiting area. This area is more like a corridor with a few chairs and two divided windows for anyone who wants to lean out to smoke or get some fresh air.

"This might not be the right place to talk about this, but who cares. I can't just be your friend, and I don't think Lupin can either. I'm attracted to you in such a different but intense way compared to how I feel about Lupin. I don't know if this makes any sense, but Lupin is probably my soulmate. And yet, I still want you. Just like, at the end of the day, Lupin wants you too. And I know you feel this attraction for us as well," Sirius says, moving closer to you as he smokes, both of you facing the window.

"But if we keep this up, I'll be the one who gets hurt. You two prioritize each other. I'm just the second option. It's foolish to continue this. The right thing to do is to give up on any romance and try to be friends. Don't you think?" you say, sounding weary. In reality, you are exhausted. Thinking about your relationship feels like a certain waste of time.

"I just want you to keep in mind that if you want, Lupin and I are ready to give this a chance. And even if you don’t, we’re both here for you." Sirius finishes his cigarette and gives you a kiss on the cheek. He then leaves, leaving you contemplative as you throw your cigarette away upon seeing a nearby sign that reads "No Smoking."

[celenawrites]

TW - just a vent about fandom stuff.

I feel kinda sad about how some creators in the CoD fandom have now abandoned creating content for the game series due to the demanding nature of other fans who used to consume their content. (fics, art, etc)

Like, these artists/writers in the fandom write fanfics/create art, FOR FREE OF COST and dedicate SO MUCH TIME AND ENERGY to their craft despite not getting much in return, only to deal with senseless hate, ignorance, stupidity and get treated as content generation machines; instead of actual human beings with jobs and studies and friends and families that need their time and attention as well.

A lot of us folks who write or draw do this as a hobby. As an outlet for our creativity, and we find this community for the media we are currently fixated on and we create things inspired by it cuz it brings us joy. IT MAKES US HAPPY SO WE CREATE CONTENT FOR IT!!! And then to see the same fandom/community and their horrendous behaviour driving away the creators from the fandom and the media itself is just....sad. Very disheartening.

Like I miss so many of the creators who have just given up on CoD cuz of this issue. Their works have inspired me to start writing again. They make me wish I start learning how to draw and paint again too. Their works have touch my soul, and made me happy - gave me something to look forward to every day.

But I'd much rather they leave the fandom and take care of themselves and their life, than to succumb to this weird pressure fans and fan-content consumers put on them, y'know?

Plus recently, I've seen a lot of racist and stereotypical prejudices from some CoD fans (and even some creators). I know a lot of them are new to the fandom, I was too. But I took an active effort to learn more about this game series. (and it's an ongoing effort cuz I cannot afford to play the games so I have to settle for wiki articles, gameplays, and comics) And I see so many fans not give a shit about it. They treat these characters as blank canvases to fulfill their hypersexual fantasies. (I like me a good smut fic or two, don't get me wrong) But that just makes it impossible for newer fans to get to know more about the lore and the characters. I had just finished watching the campaign for MW, and let me tell you, there are so many complex missions, characters and storylines to explore and depict through fanfics, and it's insane so many people disregard it for their whimsies so easily. That will just stunt your growth as an artist/writer! Read up on the lore, watch the game plays(the OGs and the remakes!) , maybe even read the comics!!! I promise you won't regret it ever!!!

Also, please! For all that is holy, stop putting these complex fictional characters into restricted boxes and label them. That just makes them so one-dimensional. Like -

Soap is not always cheery and bubbly and your fellow bestie. Simon is not an abuser/emotionally dead asshole just because he has a hard time expressing his emotions like everyone else. König, despite the lack of storyline/lore we have on him, isn't an uwu social anxiety babygirl, damn it. Stop excluding Gaz from your HCs and fics! He's a complex man with so many interesting things to explore about his overall story and psyche as a part of 141. He's not always begging for Price's approval either, he can and has objected to how questionable their methods have been regarding their field/work. Stop excluding Gaz from 141 stuff! It makes you look like a POS, and a lot of the people who exclude him are doing so for....pretty racist reasons. As a POC, this shit sucks balls. Also stop stereotyping POC characters in CoD - Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria, Gaz, Farah....just stop. Their ethnicity or race should not deter you from writing about them in a way that doesn't come across as prejudiced and ill-informed.

Also, not necessarily a rant, but please consider/remember the fact that the military has always been a bit of a morally dubious field of work irl, and just cuz CoD is military-centric and features characters who work in the army or PMC and take out bad guys - that doesn't take away from the violent history military has and how they have contributed to the deterioration of many countries (mainly in the Middle East). Heck, even these characters in the CoD games have done extremely unethical things and employed treacherous methods in order to get the job done. These characters may be good people in fiction, but that doesn't mean that they have done great things or have always stayed morally pure. Explore the dubious nature of it all - explore how dark and harrowing it can be for them and for the people that unwittingly or knowingly get involved in their work. It's dark and twisted but it's crucial since it's inspired from our world and it's necessary for us as humans and as artists to explore such themes and analyse them! It's crucial for the soul!!!

[topazadine]

Five Common Anxieties of Newbie Writers, Demystified

A simple post for today to address common concerns I have seen from younger writers over the years, which includes:

"Everyone else is so much better than me; I'm behind."

"I can't share my writing or someone will steal my idea."

"I am in direct competition with other writers; their gain is my loss."

"I shouldn't read while writing because it will ruin my unique voice."

"If I don't explain everything in meticulous detail, people won't understand my vision."

As always, this is my experience and my opinion as someone who has been writing seriously for about 15 years and reading, well, since I was a tiny baby. I also have several years of experience tutoring younger writers at both the K-12 and collegiate level.

Here goes!

1. "Everyone else is so much better than me; I'm behind."

You are not behind. Even if you start writing in your 60s, you are not behind. That's because there is no such thing as being behind in writing; you are where you are, and you'll only get further if you keep going.

Of course you're not going to write like Brandon Sanderson, or Tolkien, or Stephen King, or whoever when you're 20, because you're twenty. You just got out of high school two years ago and haven't even graduated college! These writers have decades on you and are naturally going to be better because they have had more time to learn.

Comparison is the thief of joy. You will not be happy if you are always comparing to yourself to every other writer and bemoaning your lack of experience.

As I have said multiple times throughout my blog, I encourage you to try to write 1 million words before you even think about publishing anything. Do fanfic, because then you can't publish it and you know you're just practicing. You will likely look back at where you started, with your first story, and go, "oh thank god I didn't try to publish that. I wasn't anywhere near ready."

And even then, you still will not be behind, because there's no one track toward success in publishing. You are just where you need to be right now, and you'll keep going where you need to go as long as you keep writing.

2. "I can't share my writing or someone will steal my idea."

I have seen a lot of this on writing subreddits. People will ask questions, but be intentionally vague about their plot because they are worried about someone else filching their idea and making it their own. However, they will refuse to share nearly anything useful, making it impossible to answer their question with any specificity.

Now yes, theft does happen. There was a horrendous story recently where an agent stole one of their author's ideas to give to another author, who then published faster because the agent had left Author 1 in Revision Hell on purpose. I'm not saying it never happens.

But the thing is that it is not the idea that makes any story special, it is the execution.

My Eirenic Verses series centers around poetry magic. That's the whole gimmick. But poetry magic has been done before to great effect by several other authors! There's a book called The Poet Empress out on sub that I'm hoping and praying will get published because I want to read it; everything about this story sounds AMAZING.

From the blurb, this book is vastly different from my own, which is a great thing. Both of us came up with this concept and took it in unique directions, giving readers more options for engage with poetry magic in completely different ways. And I love that!

Don't worry too much about people stealing your ideas. After all, your idea has been done dozens of times before already, even if you haven't been able to find an exact copy of the plot. We are all riffing off ancient plot forms and tales.

3. "I am in direct competition with other writers; their gain is my loss."

The joy of reading books is that you can read hundreds in a year if you want to. It is not like car sales, where people buy one single car every few years.

People buy books that they don't even intend to read; how many of us have dozens of books in our TBR pile that we'll probably never get to?

Yes, it's possible to lose out on competitions or publishing slots to other writers, but that is the nature of the economy, not the fault of any other writer. Placing yourself in opposition to a well-respected writer, especially one in your same niche, does you no favors.

Other writers are your peers, not your antagonists. No matter what you are writing, no one will do it quite like you, so you shouldn't worry if someone else's story is somewhat like yours. That just means that there is overlap between your audiences, and you should support them even more so that people like both of you.

The best way to be successful is to build community. People support those that they like and who are nice to them.

4. "I shouldn't read while writing because it will ruin my unique voice."

Your 'unique voice' is a mishmash of every other writer you have ever read because that is how learning works. You have absorbed the lessons of every other book you've put before your eyes (or into your ears), picked out what you liked, and left the rest. So yes, you do have a unique voice, but it is based on other writers, and the more you read, the more you refine that voice.

My favorite authors are Emile Zola, Willa Cather, Emily Dickinson, William Carlos Williams, Robert Frost, China Mieville, Terry Prachett, and Herman Melville. As a child, my favorite books were the Redwall series and The Unicorn Chronicles. My favorite nonfiction series is The Inspired Traveller's Guides by Sarah Baxter.

You can find all of those influences in my work, but you can also find dozens of other authors I have loved throughout my life. There are books that still haunt me today whose titles I can't even remember, just the concept or a specific scene.

My writing voice has become so strong because I like so many different kinds of writing and I have synthesized them all together. I learn something from every single book I read, even if it's just what not to do.

You can't become a strong writer if you don't read. It's essential to developing your voice. The more you read, the more you develop your voice, and the more that you can resist the urge to completely change your style based on what you are currently reading.

But you can only get to the point of having a strong, coherent voice by reading. So don't shy away from it.

5. "If I don't explain everything in meticulous detail, people won't understand my vision."

Here's a brutal truth: it doesn't matter whether other people see exactly what you see in your work. What matters is that they enjoyed what they saw. No one is going to have your exact same vision unless you turn your book into a movie.

Everyone's journey through a given book is influenced by their own life experiences. For example, if you asked a French person to describe a castle, they are going to say something completely different than what a Japanese person would say. What an Indian person envisions when you say "sword" is going to differ from what an English person thinks about. And that is fine and good!

You do not need to put your reader in a chokehold and make sure that they are seeing exactly what you see. This can be a huge turnoff to readers, especially if you do not present things in the proper order, because now they are constantly having to revise their setting with the new details you are providing.

Here, for example, is a description from my first book, 9 Years Yearning:

Every few steps, he ran across another example of a High Poet's work: ostentatious stone structures with smooth stucco sides, dramatic depictions of wild animals and fantastical beasts jutting from their surface. Others were more sculpture than home, tiny pebbles that slotted together to make a swirling mass of windows and doors. Goldnin, being one of the more well-heeled cities, had many wealthy merchants more than willing to spill quillim for a poetry-infused property.

Everyone who reads this is going to see different "wild animals" and "fantastical beasts." They are going to imagine the pebbles as different colors; maybe one person thinks they're all different shades that make gradations, while another wants them all to be tiny chips of quartz that sparkle in the sun.

I am fine with this. A story is a scaffold to allow readers to adorn with their own imagination, creating a personalized experience. I have given the reader some specific elements but left the rest vague so that they can envison what they want, and I'm okay with it not being exactly what I intended.

Once you have put a story out into the world, you're done interpreting it for the reader. It is now theirs to enjoy. They can do whatever they want with it, just like you can go buy something from the store and spraypaint it neon orange if you want to.

Your job is not to grab the reader by the face and tell them what you want them to see; it is to provide enough detail that they can see what they want to see. Giving up ownership like this allows you to make a story that isn't oversaturated with detail but still enables readers to have fun with it.

I hope this helped to ease some of your fears about writing. The most important part is to have fun, relax, and continue to learn all the time!

If you enjoyed this, maybe you will consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning! This gay coming-of-age romance follows two boys in a military academy as they learn the arts of love and war. It includes poetry magic, strong sibling bonds, and all the awkwardness that young romance entails.

[ijust-really-likedanandphil]

If you think it is impossible for dan and phil to be in a queerplatonic relationship, please take some time to learn about what a qpr actually is (or just unfollow me).

Things to know:

you don't need to be aro or ace (or on either spectrum) to be in a qpr

anyone can be in a qpr regardless of gender, sexuality, or orientation

a qpr is defined by whoever is in it

Liking/enjoying sex or romance is not the same thing as feeling that type of attraction (ace people can have sex, aro people can be in romantic relationships)

Actions are not inherently romantic. They can be interpreted as such depending on the relationship between people, but ultimately, the romantic aspect of an action is due to a person's interpretation or intentions

Amatonormativity is the assumption that everybody prospers in an exclusive romantic relationship.

To undo amatonormativity, you've got to understand that no type of relationship is superior to another. Romance is not "more" than friendship, unless defined as such by an individual.

Queerplatonic is whatever the fuck you want it to be. Sex, marriage, kids, living together, none of those, some of those, all of those, whatever. Depends on the people. It is the "do whatever you want forever" option. Romantic relationships can be like this, but the idea is that they come with societal norms that we are expected to follow — qprs, until amatonormativity is uncommon, are an escape from that.

The fact that you might not want a queerplatonic relationship does not mean no one else does. That's like saying you don't want to be in a heterosexual relationship, so how could anyone else want one?

On the topic of Dan and Phil specifically:

I am not claiming to know if they are or aren't in xyz kind of relationship. That's the whole point

One of the main messages of "We are in a relationship" is that you don't know everything, even if you do truly know a lot.

You cannot know something about someone's relationship until they tell you, just as you cannot know someone's sexuality or gender until they come out to you.

Again, I am not suggesting that they are in either a qpr or a romantic relationship. I am clarifying that we do not know for sure. We can be 99% sure (I personally would not have that kind of confidence in my knowledge of strangers' relationships lol), but you can never know til they tell you.

Even then, they could be lying or leaving out parts of the truth (rightfully so). You don't have the right to that information, which I'm sure most of us agree on

Them respectively liking sex does not mean they fuck. Honestly, it's none of our business what they do, but there are other ways to have sex than with the person you're living with. Arrangements can be made. Again, they very well could. Not really our business though

The "hints" that DnP may be dropping could be real. They could be exactly what a lot of people think they are. It could also be DnP fucking with you, they could also just... not be hints. They're just people. They aren't characters being written for your consumption. The thing about hints is that they aren't explicit and therefore could be misleading, especially when so many people want hints (confirmation bias)

The whole point is!!!!!! we don't know!!!!!! it's fine to think they're cute and ship them but to pretend to know them well enough is crossing a line. Write your fanfic, make your fanart, but please stop pushing the idea onto other people that you either Know they're fucking + in a romantic relationship or you're just an idiot. 'Cause the world is not that simple, there are not just two answers. You're hurting aspec people with some of the rhetoric you use, so let's try to unlearn some stuff

Final disclaimer: if DnP ever come out and clarify that they are in a romantic relationship, spill all the beans, etc then that's cool, whatever! But I won't claim to have "known" that information before they gave it to me, just like I never claimed to have "known" someone was gay before they came out. It's disrespectful

[assortedfruitsnacks212]

"America is so over." "We're screwed." "We're cooked!"

HEY. Eyes on me. No, don't look at them, look at me.

This isn't as unprecedented as you think. Assholes have been trying to seize power for eons, and people have tried to assassinate them for just as long. Sometimes failing. Sometimes not. Yeah it emboldens their fan base, yeah it turns them into martyrs. That's not unprecedented either.

The question now is what are YOU going to do about it. Yes, YOU, my fellow American citizen.

Yes, I know it's terrifying. Breathe through it. Have a good cry if you need to. Vent to a friend or several. Then stand up, dust yourself off, and make a plan. Think: what's your sphere of influence? Your REAL sphere of influence. I'm not just talking about voting, though yes absolutely do that please (and learn a lesson from the French: don't split the vote. Not this time). I'm talking about the people you know in real life. Platforms you might have where people actually listen to you. What can you do in your limited sphere of influence to fight back?

Fighting back can take a hundred thousand forms. Here are some I've personally come across and/or practiced:

- Check in with your friends who might be struggling emotionally. Make sure they don't feel alone. Be a good friend!

- Have the hard conversations wherever they feel appropriate. By conversations, I don't necessarily mean confrontation. It can be hard to talk to someone you disagree with, especially if it's a topic you're passionate about, but you're sure as hell not gonna change anyone's mind if you yell at them, Jesus Christ.

- Find out who's in need in your area and help them out. I don't just mean strangers, I mean people you know too. Be curious about their lives and listen to their problems. Maybe your uninsured friend is struggling with migraines, and you happen to have migraine meds she can use. Maybe your broke friend needs a pair of jeans, and you have a pair you don't wear anymore. Maybe you grow herbs on your balcony and can brighten people's lives by giving some away. The possibilities are endless. Whatever you decide, the more of these small choices you make, the safer and happier the people around you will be. In a country without a proper social safety net, it's up to YOU to help weave one.

- Spend your energy wisely. Don't argue with Trumpers on the internet, and for God's sake don't waste your time fabricating elaborate conspiracy theories about "what actually happened." Whatever it was, it happened, and now we're dealing with the consequences. Our job stays the same: keep Trump out of the White House, push the far right back. That's the goal. Now lock in.

- Keep living your life. You can't be engaged in the fight all the time. Eat. Stay hydrated. Watch your favorite shows. Hang out with friends. Do the things you love, whether it's writing fanfic, drawing, or listening to music. Go outside. Enjoy beauty wherever you find it. How else are you going to remember what you're fighting for? Draw strength from the good things in life.

- Learn a little history. Read books or listen to podcasts about other hard times. Let them broaden your perspective. This isn't the first time people have faced a dire political threat, and it won't be the last.

- On that note, research ways other grassroots movements have brought down authoritarians in the past. The Serbians did it twenty years ago. Now they're telling us how they did it.

- Whatever you do, DON'T GIVE UP. It's not over till we say it's over. Don't just give Trump the country! Say no, goddammit. Stand up. Follow the example of so many of the famous stories we love here on Tumblr (Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Stranger Things, etc), and fight, even if it feels impossible. This is a contest of belief. Find your reason for fighting and lean into it hard. Don't let Trumpers outbelieve you.

Chin up, love. You are more powerful than you'll ever know. And when we stand together, they should be afraid of us.

[ac1d6urn]

How To Rite Gud [Fic]

aka fiction stages, a summary

A bit of introductions first: I am a writer in a now-obscure fandom (what can I say, I am boring and consistent). I have a perfectionist streak, therefore I take notes on how to be better and even try to follow them. I have been reading fan-fiction since the last century. I have even written a few since the beginning of this one. Let me summarise what I wish I’d known about writing back in the day. Namely: How To Rite Gud (Fanfic or not.)

To write well, first, we need to start somewhere and document the scene and the mood, no matter how brief or unpolished. (Because this is a fandom I know, I'm going to jump straight into an old school controversial tumblr ship as an example. Ready? Set? Go!) (Ohnoes!)

Harry slammed the door angrily. Snape's snide remarks were annoying as usual and oddly arousing. The other man exhaled and realised that he wanted Harry as well.

All right, so. Now we have a starting point. We have conflict. And we have some semblance of character progression. But wait, we're not done (I've read a lot of drafts as 'done', trust me! But how do we go beyond that?)

First things first. At the first pass-through at our rough draft, we will need to choose one protagonist, the one that will learn from the scene the most. Once we do so, we will stick to that point of view. In this case, we are choosing Harry, so that means he cannot see what's on the other side of the door or what is going on in Snape's mind. He can try to guess it or wish for it instead.

Harry slammed the door angrily. Snape's snide remarks were annoying as usual, and oddly arousing. Behind the door he heard a sigh. Perhaps Snape felt the same? That couldn't possibly be true. 

All right then, all fixed! Easy enough. Onward.

The next step is to 'show not tell', in terms of emotion. The aim is to identify and remove every direct mention of how the protagonist is feeling (”angry”, “aroused”). We can show or hint at it instead, or we can project his feelings onto guessing how others feel, but Harry has to be the one doing the guessing or the admitting or the denying. In short, let's play a never-ending game of skirting around how the protagonist truly feels as described in one word, but show or hint at it instead with Harry's actions, urges, or dialogue. We'll leave the reader with the satisfaction of discovering the rest since that is one fun part of reading. Ready?

Harry slammed the door. He thought of kicking it for good measure. Snape's snide remarks were about as welcome as a blast-ended skrewt at a Sunday brunch, but there was something else, an odd and guilty visceral thrill, unimportant and untimely. Behind the door, he heard a sigh. Snape? What were the odds of Snape understanding how Harry felt: wrestling with being a freak? Impossible! No one would understand.

Now then. Better?  A bit. We're still not done.

Afterwards, we're going to expand and put anything that can become dialogue, a sound, or direct thought in that format. (Begone, ‘guilty visceral thrill’!) Harry (in denial as an unreliable narrator) is quite a bit of fun to play around with. This is also a good stage to add detail: where are they during this scene? Let's say the dungeons. Snape's domain. Dramatic enough?

Bang!

Harry slammed the door so hard that the hinges squealed and the potion bottles rattled in the aftermath. Bloody things deserved it too, every single slimy jar and every single beetle. If he kicked the door, would they shatter right in that pompous sod's face? Fuck it! Fuck it all! His ears burned hot, even after the ominous ringing stopped. That lesson plan was fine as it was! Great! Bloody perfect! But like a blast-ended skrewt at a Sunday brunch, Snape just had to leave his mark. It's not like the arsehole was teaching the bloody class, not anymore, Harry was, and Snape had no reason to meddle! So of course Snape was just doing what he did best, lurking about, waiting to rile him up. 

Prick!

He leaned forward against the door and pressed his forehead against the polished oak. The boards felt cool.

Someone sighed, right on the other side of the door.

Wait, what was that? Not Snape, surely, can't be. What were the odds? 

What did Snape know about being a freak? Nothing! Not a thing. No one ever does.

All right, now we're onto something. But we're not done quite yet. Challenge accepted? (Y/Y? Of course!) What we're after now is parsing through the draft with a fine-tooth comb, leaving behind no script of the protagonist 'doing things'. This means: no movie script; it turns into a personal real-time diary instead. (The "I am/he was doing the dishes" becomes "the water is too hot; I have to get a new sponge soon"). We are after the direct stream of consciousness, which means precision and detail, no ambiguity. Dialogue works, direct quotes work, immediate thought, concrete detail in recollection of memories or in current setting, anything! Please be creative with 'accuracy' of dialogue or any turns of phrase if it’s true to the protagonist’s stream of thoughts. Grammar rules be damned. Misconceptions, misunderstandings, and lying to oneself or others, depending on the character, is a fact of life. This is the perfect time to inject that into the narrative.

"- of all the times to act like a child!"

"Wait a second, I am not the immature arsehole here!” You absolute twat!

"Oh? Isn't it past your bedtime, Professor Potter?"

Oh, so be it! I’ll bite. "Fine! So what if it is?"

"Mr Potter, for once in your perfect, predictable --"

What's that, you arse? It was so easy to let go. Simply let go of everything. Of the door as well.

Bang! The door slammed so perfect and so satisfying, right in the middle of Snape's smug tirade that the hinges squealed and the potion bottles rattled in the aftermath. Bloody things deserved it too, every single slimy jar and every single beetle. If he kicked the door, would they shatter right in that pompous sod's face? Fuck it! Fuck it all! His ears burned hot, even after the ominous ringing stopped. His lesson plan was fine as it was! Great! Bloody perfect. But like a blast-ended skrewt at a Sunday brunch, Snape just had to leave his mark by pointing out the missing bits. It's not like the meddling git was teaching the bloody class, not anymore, Harry was, and Snape had no reason to meddle! So of course Snape was just doing what he did best, lurking about, just waiting to stab him in the back and twist the paring knife for good measure. 

Prick!

Pressing his forehead against something, anything, like the polished oak of the door, felt like a necessity, something to stave off the headache. The boards felt cool. Stable. Breathe in, breathe out. Right then.

Wait! What was that?

Someone sighed on the other side.

Not Snape, surely, can't be. What are the odds? 

What did Snape know about being a freak? Nothing! Not a thing. He wouldn't even think twice about tonight, hell, he already forgot about it. Did Snape even care? Was it all for nothing then? Their stumbling, stammering, starlit walk back from Hogsmeade. The Astronomy Tower, that slow twist and turn of the telescope as Snape's fingers hovered over Harry's, just for a second, and withdrew, with a nervous twitch...

Screw this. I'm going home. I quit!

So, we're onto something now. The last task is to tweak a few bits. The 'Sunday brunch' may become an 'afternoon tea party'. Italics-as-direct-thought is still off. The class, a Defense class (since Harry is kicked out of what seems like Snape’s Potions classroom.) The pacing is on the right track, the details intrigue us, the conflict is still there. We are getting somewhere. The emotions, the decision, the character progression in this scene (Do you still think I’m a child? -> I am done with you!) is complete. Whew.

And now you know the process. One scene down, a few more to go! (Onward!)

Honestly, this is how 1K drafts become 100K novels. The winning formula seems to be: one protagonist -> in denial with hints at deeper emotion (no explaining feelings) -> with thoughts and dialogue and bias on glorious display -> stream of consciousness controls everything else and all the surroundings or all action is filtered through it. ("The hinges squeaked and the light within was blinding and warm" instead of "he opened the door".) Needless to say, ease up on the plot twists, since writing this way is about x10 word count of whatever you’re expecting right now.

P.S. I've been told to 'finish the fic' already. I don't know what to say, it's a product of three short sentences and one evening and I have way too many drafts. So I'm sharing something better: a formula for making any three sentences into a functional scene. May it unblock you in your next draft. Please write something wonderful.

[empressofthelibrary]

Tell me about Jamie and Rachel

......Okay, I've been trying to keep my mouth shut about them because I'm worried I'll lose the motivation to write if I spill the beans, but... When I look at the pace I'm actually writing at, I might not get there until I literally retire. So... Here we go. Spoilers ahead, obviously.

Long story short, they're Bailey and Dick's daughters. I'm not sure how obvious that was, but I'd be shocked if nobody had put that together yet, honestly. And they might be from another dimension. They hatched from eggs that grew from a plant Bailey got as a wedding gift from the girls' fairy godmother.

...I'm gonna explain everything, but it's a helluva ride, so buckle up. Time travel is heavily involved, so be warned. It gets confusing.

The earliest seeds of this start not in Bailey's relationship with Dick, exactly, but with a cryptic warning from a random blonde girl with a very strong grip and intense orange eyes. She tells Bailey to "stay away from the peacock man" and... Vanishes back into the crowd.

Bailey brushes it off as a prank from some weird kid.

Fast forward a little bit, and Bailey gets called in to body-double for Princess Lydia of Valdania. The country is in political turmoil, Lyd is announcing a marriage of state, the risk of assassination attempts is high. There's a masquerade ball involved, because what's the point of fanfic if not self-indulgence, and Bailey encounters a man dressed as a peacock. She has completely forgotten the warning from the weird kid, but her "bodyguard" steps in before she can accept this wierdo's request for a dance. That becomes important later, I promise.

At some point, through some kind of Star Trek Bullshit, I'm sending Bailey into the 30th century. Someone else needs to be with her; it can't be Wally, for obvious reasons. She gets back with the help of Cary Wren, the GL of the time, but... Cary misses the target by about a decade. Bailey lands about ten-to-fifteen years ahead of when she left, practically in the lap of a twenty-something Lian. (Lian is growing up normal, fuck canon, this whole "Shoes" thing is stupid.) Bailey panics once she realizes she's not when she's supposed to be, and who she's looking at. She's familiar enough with the scifi genre to know that finding out your own future is bad. Lian is trying to do damage control, making sure Bailey learns as little as possible, while still getting her home. But she can't keep a perfect lid on things, and Bailey comes face to face with a very curious child -- One with red-gold curls framing her freckled face, a gaptoothed grin, and giant, almond-shaped eyes, blue as cornflowers.

Everyone freezes. Chris -- now also an adult -- scoops the child away as fast as he can. Bailey does not understand the tension in the room. She has a niece, clearly. That kid looked exactly like her nephew Aiden did at her age. Obviously Phoebe had another kid. Why a civilian child is here is a mystery, but she's trying really hard not to think about that.

The other person on the adventure with her points out the obvious. Bailey laughs it off -- It's pretty much physically impossible for her to have kids. And who would the dad even be? She'd be an awful mother besides. Nah, no way. That cycle ends here. (The thought had crossed her mind, but it scared the shit out of her, so she shoved it down deep.)

Fast forward a bit. Bailey freaks out and runs away from an actual relationship beginning with Dick, because change is hard and scary and good things never stay and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah commitment. I've talked about this a little.

To be more specific, she runs away to space with Kyle. While in space with Kyle, the party runs afoul of a Black Mercy. Bailey gets sucked into a dream. She's married to Dick, and has been for fourteen years. They're both going gray, getting old. Together. They have a little yellow house with a porch swing and a picket fence. There's a shelter cat, a cranky old-as-hell ginger tabby with one good eye. The sidewalk is covered in chalk drawings.

And they have two fantastic, adorable, smartmouthed daughters. Jamie's older, eleven, and already almost as tall as her father. Rachel is six, and steals the chocolate chips from the pancakes Dick makes on Sundays. They're both bright, compassionate, opinionated girls, so full of light and life and joy. Jamie has Bailey's righteous anger and outspoken nature. Rachel has Dick's quick mind and mischievous tendencies. Bailey loves them, loves this life, so much. It's everything she's ever wanted. Everything she didn't realize she wanted. Everything she was afraid to let herself want.

But she does. She wants it so, so much.

And then Zyzzanyx, the imp she'd... encountered... previously (that's another post) pops in. Explains that she's gonna die if she doesn't make herself wake up -- that Kyle and Laney and the others are gonna get hurt if she doesn't help them. And Bailey has to let it all go.

(The Man Who Has Everything did not do enough exploration of the long-term psychological ramifications of this concept to suit me, okay?)

Bailey is deeply shaken by this dream. She starts to realize that she does want to be a parent, but the idea of stability and putting down roots still scares the hell out of her. It takes someone else pointing out that she's already basically adopted Lanos, the amnesiac navcom AI who is from another Earth, for her to really start to come around to the idea.

...This is what leads to her freakout that has her knocking on Ollie's door at four in the morning, unleashing a wall of text, and recounting the whole tale so far over several bowls of chili.

Unfortunately, Laney leaves. Bailey doesn't really have a stable place to share with a teenager, and... Lanos has a big sister to get to know, and a whole new universe to explore. They stay in contact, but it's a bit like sending your kid off to boarding school.

Shortly after that, she leaves for Los Angeles. She doesn't really have anywhere to stay, having lost her apartment while in space, and she's been couch surfing. Bette offers her a proper room in her penthouse apartment in LA, and a chance to rebuild the Titans West. Bailey takes her up on it. Staying in the Gotham/Metropolis/NYC area was too close to Bludhaven and Dick anyway; the further away she could get from him, the better.

From there, the next big chapter we get in this saga is what I refer to as the Little Mercies Arc. And this one I need to do a lot of research before I write, I know. But essentially, someone is making designer drugs derived from a Black Mercy they got ahold of and embiggified to a truly dangerous degree. You know those century-old rhododendron bushes that are the size of a small car? It's like that. But Bailey and Jason take this person down, and burn the stash.

...Or. Most of the stash, anyway. Bailey picks up a single sleeve of the Little Mercies. She tells herself it's for research. Study. Finding out how it was made. But it's not. She knows it's not.

She misses her daughters. She misses the life she could have lived, if she hadn't fucked things up with Dick. She's only human, after all.

You can see where that's going.

Bailey stabilizes, gets some help, starts getting better. She gets more involved with the local community, doing volunteer work and stuff; that was Ollie's idea, and it's a good one. She forms connections with people, even starting a new relationship with an old acquaintance, Jonah Pavoni -- a nurse, formerly from Central, who helped her decide to take up being a superhero.

...Cut ahead about... Twentyish years or so. Metropolis. Four teenagers in spandex are in hot pursuit of a man in a peacock-themed outfit. They are:

A speedster in green -- Kickstart, also known as Trenton Swift; currently the second-youngest ward of the West-Allen clan, until his parents can be found.

An acrobat in blue-and-black -- Madcap, Blythe Phillips; daughter of forcibly-retired minor-league supervillains Punch and Jewlee, seeking to redeem her family name through vigilantism.

A blonde Kryptonian girl with orange eyes -- Liora of Kandor, once Liora Tyr-Van; an escapee of the bottled city, hoping to find a way to unshrink her people before their resources run out. I'm leaning towards Spitfire for a name.

And at the front of this quartet, a young archer, black-haired, blue-eyed, and both enraged and terrified. Rachel Marion Grayson-Adler, Fledgling, third-generation superhero. She's eager to prove herself, and desperate to stop the man ahead of them.

He's headed for the Jules Verne Museum, after the time-bubble Clark donated, the one he used to visit the 30th Century growing up. If he gets ahold of it, if he jumps back to when he wants... It could literally wipe her family out of existence.

Unfortunately, they don't make it. The guy gets away with the time-bubble. So what do a bunch of 15-17yos do to solve this problem?

Steal the other time-bubble from the Flash Museum, obviously.

They leap into the timestream after him, but none of them know how to pilot the dang thing. Ray and Liora are trying to shoot the other bubble down. Blythe is hitting random buttons because one of these things has to help, right? Trent is just trying to steer while the three girls move around the tiny, cramped ship.

...Both bubbles crash. All five time-travellers are now scattered along the timeline. And this is where it gets confusing, so stay with me.

Blythe lands on a random rooftop in Gotham, just before the whole thing with the dragon-wizard from another dimension. That is also its own post. But that happens after Bailey gets back from space but before Laney heads out.

Liora tumbles into the middle of Bailey's team-up with Kara, Bette, and Shayera. She helps, but she also has to gtfo because the giant robot dinosaur they're fighting is kryptonite-powered.

Trent... Actually snaps back to the time they left, and goes for help in the form of the Team's Designated Older Siblings, Jamie and Wade.

Rachel crashes into the middle of the West-Park dining table, appearing out of thin air, at roughly the same time Bailey is getting her head back on straight.

And the other guy, the one they were chasing? His bubble lands in the wrong time, but not too far off the mark. He's outside a small volunteer clinic in Keystone City. It doesn't take much use of his touch-telepathy to steal the knowledge, training, and clothes of an unlucky nurse, a witness to the crash, and he slides in seamlessly. He's now Jonah Pavoni, RN.

Jonah's plan all along was to steal the time-bubble and go back to before the love of his life -- the woman who saved him, the brilliant, shining angel, the ethereal wonder he's loved since childhood -- before she married some asshole who didn't deserve her. When he crashed in the wrong place and time, he didn't know if he'd ever find her again. But three days later, the Pied Piper drags her in. She's injured, but the wounds are more mental than physical. Of course -- his goddess couldn't be brought down so easily. She just needs... A little encouragement. A nudge or two. He can help with that.

It's like fate brought him exactly when and where he needed to be, placed him in an even better position to convince Bailey of his devotion. Now nothing could keep them apart -- not the misalignment of their ages, not distance, not that stupid neglectful jackass. No, now he could be here for Bailey, from the very beginning, building her up, adoring her, showing her the worship she deserves. Finally, he could be hers, and she could be his. As it was always meant to be.

...Man's a little bit not right in the head.

Blythe and Liora are trying to find their friends, and worrying about Jonah later. Liora crosses paths with Bailey once, and in the interest of still having her best friend to find, tries to warn Bailey to be careful. It doesn't work that well.

Rachel, however, needs to find Jonah right now immediately. While also keeping her identity secret from her extended family and avoiding the hell out of anyone who might recognize her, so she doesn't Marty McFly herself out of existence. She's a walking ball of anxiety, my poor lanky dorito girl.

Wally would like to help, but she keeps saying she isn't allowed to talk to him about it and there are time-travel rules and he has no fucking clue who this sassy lost child is but she called him Uncle Wally so clearly she's family of some kind. But his family is really damn big, and he doesn't know who he's supposed to help her avoid. She's an archer with super strength, she might be Roy and Donna's kid? Somehow? But she also used the phrase "Uncle Clark," and her eyes are really blue, and she has that dorky little forehead curl -- Kon has weird time-travelling clone daughters, right? And... He and Bart are close...?

While all that is going on, Trent, Jamie, and Wade arrive in the present day. They're in Gotham. It's a full moon. On Friday night. Naturally, things are going sideways all over the city. The addition of two speedsters and an acrobat are easy enough to hide. ... For a bit. Eventually they get spotted by the local nosy busybodies. Wade is completely unfazed by the arrival of the bat, Trent is mildly shocked to see Mr. Wayne still in the suit, and Jamie is dying because that's her grandpa how could this go any wronger.

More bats show up, that's how. Including Dick.

They eventually nab Blythe -- who has been having fun stopping criminals, harassing the local vigilantes, and bonding with Steph in the few months she's been stranded -- and as they're trying to leave, Dick puts it all together. He has a daughter. From a future that, after Bailey literally left the planet to avoid putting a name on whatever was happening between them, seems unreachable.

Things get emotional, obviously, and moreso when they part. Jamie can't stick around, she has to find the others. No, Dick can't help, he's already figured out too much and putting the fabric of spacetime at risk. Or something.

Dick, reluctantly, lets them leave to go find Liora. I'm not totally sure where she's been during all this, but I'm batting a few ideas around. They grab her and set to finding Rachel.

While all this is happening, Jonah reveals the full truth to Bailey. He's the kid she saved in her latest adventure. He's been in love with her for two decades, since that fateful moment. He's crossed time and space and warped the laws of reality just to be with her. He'd planned to just come back to this point, but what he'd gotten -- this chance to get to know her, to watch her become the hero he always admired -- it was more than he ever could have dreamed.

And now, now they could be together. He's finally repaired the time bubble. They can sweep away to the time he left, have a life together. He's waited for her for so long, can't she see how much he adores her? Won't she be his?

...Bailey, on her end, has had a series of bombs dropped on her. By a guy she's not even sure she can call her boyfriend yet. Ending in what sure as hell sounds like a proposal? And he... Might be a kid?? She says no, like any sane person would, with a few expletives thrown in.

Jonah does not like this answer. He didn't want it to go like this, but... He reaches for Bailey. If she won't love him willingly, he'll just make it happen.

THWIP!

Suddenly there's an arrow sticking through Jonah's palm.

"STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM HER," Rachel screams, barely clinging to her vantage point.

A fight naturally ensues. I don't have it choreographed well, but we wind up with all three parties -- Bailey and Jonah; Rachel and Wally; Jamie, Wade, Trent, Liora, and Blythe -- all in the same space. During the chaos, Rachel falls from some great height, while injured. Bailey dives after her.

It's too great a fall for her to survive, if she can't recover. And with her wounded -- maybe Jonah has, like, feather-shaped daggers and he stuck one in her side? -- she can't do much. Bailey is trying, but she can't quite reach --

-- and then two feathered wings, shining a brilliant gold, like flame and sunrise, unfurl from Rachel's back.

Ray scrambles to pull up, flapping awkwardly, moving on instinct alone. She pulls up, rising into the air, crowing and laughing and on one hell of an adrenaline high. Bailey helps her get back to the others. Ray gets patched up. There's celebration and relief and joy. Someone makes a "Literal Flying Grayson" joke. Wally still wants an explanation, please and thank you?

Once all that gets shook out, Bailey turns to Jonah. He tried to kill her daughter. He is a threat to her girls, and he won't stop until he's stopped permanently. Clearly, there's only one thing to do.

Wally steps in, trying to plead for mercy. Bailey laughs, and agrees. She'll show him mercy, alright.

...Remember that giant mega Black Mercy? It went into the care of one Dr. Pamela Isley, retired since her wedding to Harley, and considered mostly rehabilitated. Her indoor garden has a real nice skylight.

So yeah. Bailey can show him a little mercy, alright.

There's a whole lotta crying as the time-travellers make their goodbyes. Bailey tries to put on a brave face, because you gotta for your kids, but she doubts she'll ever see their future. But she's so, so proud of them, and she loves them so much.

Fast-forward a bit again. Throughout Bailey and Dick patching things up and figuring out a relationship for real, there's a whole lot of dramatic tension as they both try to keep their mouths shut about the possible future they've both seen, but don't know the other one knows about. Bailey is scared to death that Dick would be with her for that future -- only a possibility she doesn't even know how to reach -- and not for anything inherent to her, and Dick doesn't want to put any pressure on Bailey and make her run away again. It's a whole thing! But they do work it out, and... Well, wedding bells do ring.

And Bailey gets a very unusual wedding gift from Zyzzanyx, her old ally. A small chest, containing what sure looks like two tulip bulbs. Zazz explains that these'll grow into the girls, so... She and Dick can plant 'em when they're ready. It's old magic, and it'll take a drop of blood from each parent, but, well. She's fond of the little rugrats too, she guesses. And watching Bailey be miserable about not having them is, y'know, depressing or whatever.

Bailey thanks Zazz for this, and releases the imp from her life-debt. (Like I said, that's it's own post; this is already a mile long.)

The girls eventually happen. Jamie is roughly of an age with Wade, less than a year younger. Ray is born about five years after that, I think. They grow up safe and happy and loved, with a phenomenally huge number of aunts and uncles and grandparents.

There are many arguments and discussions regarding youthful vigilantism and sidekickery, but once again, Bailey cannot stop the future. It's allowed, but under very strict conditions regarding school and social lives. Jamie begins training at age fifteen, taking on the name Dawnbird, and patrolling with her dad.

Rachel learns archery from Aunt Cissie, and then from Uncle Roy and Grandpa Ollie, when she won't be deterred from masking up once she turns fifteen. She uses Fledgeling as her moniker, one of her mother's nicknames for her, as something of an olive branch. Bailey relents and lets Ray be her partner.

I could go on, but I think this post is long enough as is. Most of the rest of what I have is bits and pieces and fun facts anyway. If there's anything anyone's curious about or wants me to elaborate on -- or if you need a diagram, 'cause I got a little Charlie Day here -- my askbox is open!

[onewingedsparrow]

4, 6, and 7!

For this ask game @nocturnalfandomartist Hi Nocturne! Thank you for the ask! :D This is very long, hopefully you don't mind :) 4. Do you have beta? How important is it to the process? As a general rule: no. I have a naturally sharp eye for grammar, spelling, and cohesion. I prefer going through my writing myself with a fine-toothed comb, because beta reading my own fics helps me notice what I need to improve at a rate faster than someone else could point it out. Reading my writing aloud is something I also enjoy doing that helps me keep dialogue smooth, my syllables flowing, and my pacing watertight. In addition, because so many of my works are interconnected in an intricate spiral galaxy of depth and parallels and foreshadows and flashbacks and LORE, it's impossible for a beta reader to fully grasp all that I am intending to convey in any single story without reading...literally everything everywhere all at once which I am writing. No oneshot of mine is truly a oneshot. :) However, I don't discount the benefits of beta reading! Editor feedback is valuable for pointing out subconscious habits of mine and improvements to my flow that I can make. It also is valuable in reinforcing my writing voice; I have learned very quickly what sentence structures I am not willing to compromise on, lol. I use what I learn from other endeavors to enhance my fandom writing. I also make an effort to continue reading published books, articles, screenplays, etc. in addition to posted fanfiction. While fanfiction is in no way "inferior" to published work, there is much to learn from published work that has passed through gateways of editing that fanfiction slips by. In other words, just because my fics are deliberately not beta read doesn't mean that I aim to let my writing stay stagnant. I am still learning and will always be learning. Only a few of my fics will be jestingly tagged as "No beta we die like X"—typically older ones from my "Throwback Archive" that I don't care about cleaning up. They're the equivalent of rough sketches, so they don't need to be anywhere near my usual standards for posting. For my giant Fire Emblem fic*, however, I'm worldbuilding with someone in particular. Once I complete a few drafts of the entire massive story, I will have him alone beta read that, in order to get his feedback on keeping the giant cast all in-character, keeping the route-crossing satisfactory, etc. *This is not posted yet and will not be for a while. It's my fanfic magnum opus. It will be hundreds of thousands of words and multiple books long. And, since I am a plantser, I can't share portions of it because it is all written and drafted out-of-order. I can't wait to drop the entire story on AO3 someday. That will be a glorious day.

6. Post links to your 3 fav fics: Well, all my proper "favorites" are the giant ones that haven't been posted yet. (The Three Houses one, Under My Wings, and the secret sparkling project.) My posted "favorites" differ day by day, depending on what mood I'm in. "To Bee a Leader" is ever dear to my heart. But, at present, I am partial to "Where Sorrow Rings" (FE Engage, during-canon angst) "Reigniting" (TLoZ Ocarina of Time during-canon drabble) "もう少しだけ"　(Death Note during-canon drabble)

7. How do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences? I am invested in what is called "third-person deep POV." I love getting into the head, heart and soul (or, as Transformers would call all three together, the spark) of characters and wresting out their deepest thoughts, feelings, and very being. Line by line, droplet by droplet, I fish it out out of their darkened depths. So, yes, I feel what the characters feel. If I don't feel what the characters feel as I write, then my readers won't either as they read. That is one of my goals in writing characters within third-person deep POV: to make the readers feel what the characters are. Obviously, I can't 1:1 relate to everything my characters go through. Moreover, I hope I don't, since some of them go through some pretty nasty messes I wouldn't wish on anyone. 😂 But, I will thoroughly analyze my characters' perspectives from their shoes and see if anything across my personal experiences can be either directly or distantly relatable to that, and begin composing from there.

[seethesunny]

For the ask game

🏷💛💌

Fanfic Writer Ask Game

Sorry I'm replying to these now. Life's been something else 😢

🏷 Is there a tag you like to search for when looking for fanfics to read?

Hurt/comfort, slow burn, and depending on how much I need it—a fix it AU. Sometimes I go searching down for baby fic, but, believe or not, it's not a hit lol I'm picky sometimes, but not hyperspecific with tags, I mostly try everything and see if I like it!

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

You're only ever gonna improve if you keep writing, which is the most important part of any hobby, really. I stopped writing/doing art some years ago because I was super bummed out after my art teacher rejected my stuff, and I decided to drop it, but I missed it.

I think something you have to keep in mind is that your creation has to be true to you first— really anything you think no matter how small/insignificant you think it is—then to the rest of the world, and that it won't be for anyone, because that's impossible. You need to have tough skin, no one is exempt from critique, and that's what can motivate someone to improve.

Also said it last time, I'll say it again, it might be trash but it's YOUR trash and that's what matters, and it'll be enough.

Stick to it, improve, there are days when you're gonna hate everything, and there will be a block, and you're gonna burn out probably, but you'll become better with time. We all learn, and that's okay.

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

Not sure if I employ tropes as often. But second chance love trope! After that, I think found family and secret baby/kid/children lol

I haven't posted the other ellie is tessjoel secret daughter full fic, though.

[acmoorereadsandwrites]

What I learned writing 500k in sixteen months

Writing daily is a lot easier to do if you are kind to yourself and do not set impossible goals. Some people can do NaNoWriMo every month because their lifestyles permit it. Others can't because of work, responsibilities, health, etc. Set a reasonable goal to start and adjust according to your lifestyle and that's the bare minimum to hit. If it's 50 words, it's 50 words. If it's a 1000, it's a 1000. It's subject to change based on your circumstances.

Accept that you are going to have to edit. I see a lot of people who cannot stand editing; some of them even hope that if their outline is perfect, then they won't have to do a developmental edit and can just make a clean first draft and it's good to go. I'm sorry to say, but if you want to be traditionally published, you're going to have to get in there and be willing to kill your darlings. If you are going to self-pub, it's still probably a good idea to be willing to kill your darlings.

This is pretty linked to number 2: the more you write, the more you nurture a gut instinct. You start to be able to see that something isn't working. Listen to your gut. Do not ignore it. If it's telling you 'this is wrong,' either keep going and accept that you might have a huge rewrite ahead of you or go back and figure out what's wrong and either edit it or save it for later.

I love commas and medium length sentences too much. That's one of my biggest hurdles. I have to actively think about sentence length, sentence structures, and sentence starters. The more you do it, the more naturally it will come to you, but, I'll be real, it's really freaking annoying when you used to be able to write 45 words a minute and now you're chugging along at 15 words a minute because you're too busy going 'this is the third long sentence with a semi-colon in a row!!! NOOOO!'

Learn to walk away. This is a very hard lesson for writers to learn, but it's incredibly important. Sometimes you are not ready for this project right now or it's not ready for you. Maybe it needs more time to marinate, maybe you're not actually interested in it and it was just a shiny idea to avoid working on the real WIP that haunts you and is staring at you as you desperately try to do anything besides write it, or maybe it's just not an idea you can write exactly how you want to write it. It's good and crucial to figure out when a project is going to teach you something and push through anyways, but it's also good to learn when that project isn't viable.

Reading is so important, but not just reading to read. I really recommend getting involved in writing communities and offering to be a beta reader or CP (critique partner) and honing your critiquing skills. Reddit has a BetaReaders, DestructiveReaders, and PubTips subs, there's also Critique Circle and Ladies Who Critique. I've heard stories of people finding betas and CPs here on Tumblr and on Twitter.

Write a variety of things. This is not going to work for every single person, but it's going to work for a lot of people. If you hit a wall and you find that you are repeating yourself, set the project aside and work on something else. Fanfic, a short story, move from romance to a horror, instead of that epic fantasy, write a contemporary novel about a lamp salesman with an absurdist bent. Many authors do this. Crop rotation is one of the ways to keep your creative well full and will let you look at the main work with a more objective eye as well as help you keep bringing new ideas to the table. If the MC keeps getting trapped and keeps getting out of it by being clever, there's a good possibility it might feel repetitive and your reader isn't going to be engaged anymore.

Find people who will be honest with you when a work isn't cutting it. As artists, it's so hard to share our work and our friends and family don't want to hurt our feelings, so you might have to go outside of them for good feedback (if they read in your genre and age category and have similar interests, they might be good for feedback). The truth is, we might now what our weaknesses are, but it's hard for us to know if we're successful in combating them without fresh eyes. We all know a lot about our stories whereas someone who isn't us doesn't. That might feel obvious, but there's a lot of authors who try to publish and nobody has ever seen their work so they don't know why they aren't getting requests for fulls. Open yourself up to the experience of being critiqued.

Recognize when you are avoiding writing. Maybe I'm the only person that is struggling with this, but it hit me only a few days ago exactly what things I do when I am avoiding writing. I play 2048 or Othello online. I'm a creature of habit so maybe it's more specific than it is for others, but by seeing that and recognizing it, I now let myself play one round and if I'm still not writing, I go do something else. If the weather is good, I go for a walk. If it's not, I might exercise inside or turn on some Two Steps from Hell and play a few rounds of a game that lets me zone out. I might even turn to YouTube or Netflix and find either a documentary, a testimonial, or a piece of media from a cultural that isn't mine. I do what I can to either put me in the writing headspace or I do research for my writing. Not every hour of the day has to be productive, but my set-aside writing time needs to be productive to my writing. If another project wants to be started, I will give in and write it so at least something has been written.

I don't just write a story to know what a story is, I also write a story to know what it isn't. This results in me rewriting my chapter one five times until I get to chapter two. This does not work for everyone and can be an active hinderance to perfectionists or people who get stuck in revision loops, but it works for me. I might start a story in space and realize it's not working and then set it in Canada 1949 and then realize that isn't working and put it in a secondary world with elves and then cut the elves. To someone who isn't me, it might look like madness, but I learn my characters' backstories, internal wounds, the way they think, about their families, their backgrounds, etc. very quickly and they solidify in a way that makes it easier for me to channel their voice. And it can change as I move pieces about, of course, and I have to be open to that, but if I know that MC has PTSD because of XYZ before I'm too far in, then I can start working with it ASAP. As such, some writers' advice is just not for me and that's OK.

[snarkythewoecrow]

I'm closing in on the end of the fic I'm writing for my enabler and accomplice in all the fanfic crimes, @buckybeardreams

I even figured out a title!

a comedy of errors (or two previously straight boys learning how to be gay for each other)

Now, for the snippet! (I apologize for the typos and things. This really hasn't been read through and stuff)

They’d ended up in a heap on the bed, out of breath—insane for as in shape as they were—and it had been going well. Sucking marks onto Buck’s neck, just beneath his ear, getting him squirming and whining in need.

Then Eddie had pressed his wrists above his head and pulled Buck’s lower lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth over it before releasing it. “Stay, or else,” he’d said, then let go to ruck up his shirt. 

And any awkwardness he’d imagined at sucking at a man’s tit melted when Buck arched and whined even louder, making it impossible not to take his nipple between his teeth and roll it some more. 

So perfect—or so he’d thought—until he’d gone to get Buck’s dick free, terrified and vibrating at the prospect of touching it, only for the zipper to get stuck, forcing him to yank it up and back down a few times—only to be stopped by a sudden howl of pain.

He immediately stopped, hands hovering and unsure as Buck made some very un-sexy noises, curling forward and covering his crotch as he did.

“Shit, shit—fuck!” Buck had his hand on his zipper, neck corded, and his head thrown back. “Ow—fuck—fuck—fuck!”

Eddie turned another light on, boner forgotten, and tried to calm him down and get a look at whatever had just happened, though he totally suspected. 

“Just let me see.”

Buck’s eyes snapped to him. “What—fuck that! No, nope, no more touching.”