#i had 4 hours of sleep and now i have to work in an hour. my eyes hurt.

[hyde-the-toad-bard]

For a year and a half, I worked day shift at the biggest residential facility for teens in the pipeline in my state. I've been screamed at, stabbed, and broken up countless violent altercations, all while walking the invisible tightrope of the law. I didn't do all that bad either, but as time passed, and my PTO ran out, I would find myself going months at a time without a break. I started having panic attacks, dissociative episodes, and dreams of the kids I was trying to help dying on my watch. This was especially compounded by the death of my best friend at the beginning of the year.

I also began sleeping much more, up to 15 hours a day, which meant I had no work life balance because all the time I was not at work I was sleeping. I literally didn't have time to get groceries because I was sleeping so much. I also became more aggressive as time went on. I started matching the kids energy, yelling back, and the last straw was actually pushing a kid. I got out of there before I became worse. That was 4 months ago.

I still oversleep, my medication barely works, and I still don't have the energy when I wake up to take care of myself. I can barely manage personal hygiene, much less cooking for myself or taking care of housework. I keep thinking that I should have recovered by now, but I also don't fully grasp how stressed out I was, and how long I was stressed out for. Im scared I'll never be able to do things I want to do again, because I'm always so tired, the only reason I go outside and spend time with others is because I need to eat. I can still manage buying food at least.

The data does not support the assumption that all burned out people can “recover.” And when we fully appreciate what burnout signals in the body, and where it comes from on a social, economic, and psychological level, it should become clear to us that there’s nothing beneficial in returning to an unsustainable status quo. 

The term “burned out” is sometimes used to simply mean “stressed” or “tired,” and many organizations benefit from framing the condition in such light terms. Short-term, casual burnout (like you might get after one particularly stressful work deadline, or following final exams) has a positive prognosis: within three months of enjoying a reduced workload and increased time for rest and leisure, 80% of mildly burned-out workers are able to make a full return to their jobs. 

But there’s a lot of unanswered questions lurking behind this happy statistic. For instance, how many workers in this economy actually have the ability to take three months off work to focus on burnout recovery? What happens if a mildly burnt-out person does not get that rest, and has to keep toiling away as more deadlines pile up? And what is the point of returning to work if the job is going to remain as grueling and uncontrollable as it was when it first burned the worker out? 

Burnout that is not treated swiftly can become far more severe. Clinical psychologist and burnout expert Arno van Dam writes that when left unattended (or forcibly pushed through), mild burnout can metastasize into clinical burnout, which the International Classification of Diseases defines as feelings of energy depletion, increased mental distance, and a reduced sense of personal agency. Clinically burned-out people are not only tired, they also feel detached from other people and no longer in control of their lives, in other words.

Unfortunately, clinical burnout has quite a dismal trajectory. Multiple studies by van Dam and others have found that clinical burnout sufferers may require a year or more of rest following treatment before they can feel better, and that some of burnout’s lingering effects don’t go away easily, if at all. 

In one study conducted by Anita Eskildsen, for example, burnout sufferers continued to show memory and processing speed declines one year after burnout. Their cognitive processing skills improved slightly since seeking treatment, but the experience of having been burnt out had still left them operating significantly below their non-burned-out peers or their prior self, with no signs of bouncing back. 

It took two years for subjects in one of van Dam’s studies to return to “normal” levels of involvement and competence at work. following an incident of clinical burnout. However, even after a multi-year recovery period they still performed worse than the non-burned-out control group on a cognitive task designed to test their planning and preparation abilities. Though they no longer qualified as clinically burned out, former burnout sufferers still reported greater exhaustion, fatigue, depression, and distress than controls.

In his review of the scientific literature, van Dam reports that anywhere from 25% to 50% of clinical burnout sufferers do not make a full recovery even four years after their illness. Studies generally find that burnout sufferers make most of their mental and physical health gains in the first year after treatment, but continue to underperform on neuropsychological tests for many years afterward, compared to control subjects who were never burned out. 

People who have experienced burnout report worse memories, slower reaction times, less attentiveness, lower motivation, greater exhaustion, reduced work capability, and more negative health symptoms, long after their period of overwork has stopped. It’s as if burnout sufferers have fallen off their previous life trajectory, and cannot ever climb fully back up. 

And that’s just among the people who receive some kind of treatment for their burnout and have the opportunity to rest. I found one study that followed burned-out teachers for seven years and reported over 14% of them remained highly burnt-out the entire time. These teachers continued feeling depersonalized, emotionally drained, ineffective, dizzy, sick to their stomachs, and desperate to leave their jobs for the better part of a decade. But they kept working in spite of it (or more likely, from a lack of other options), lowering their odds of ever healing all the while. 

Van Dam observes that clinical burnout patients tend to suffer from an excess of perseverance, rather than the opposite: “Patients with clinical burnout…report that they ignored stress symptoms for several years,” he writes. “Living a stressful life was a normal condition for them. Some were not even aware of the stressfulness of their lives, until they collapsed.”

Instead of seeking help for workplace problems or reducing their workload, as most people do, clinical burnout sufferers typically push themselves through unpleasant circumstances and avoid asking for help. They’re also less likely to give up when placed under frustrating circumstances, instead throttling the gas in hopes that their problems can be fixed with extra effort. They become hyperactive, unable to rest or enjoy holidays, their bodies wired to treat work as the solution to every problem. It is only after living at this unrelenting pace for years that they tumble into severe burnout. 

Among both masked Autistics and overworked employees, the people most likely to reach catastrophic, body-breaking levels of burnout are the people most primed to ignore their own physical boundaries for as long as possible. Clinical burnout sufferers work far past the point that virtually anyone else would ask for help, take a break, or stop caring about their work.

And when viewed from this perspective, we can see burnout as the saving grace of the compulsive workaholic — and the path to liberation for the masked disabled person who has nearly killed themselves trying to pass as a diligent worker bee. 

I wrote about the latest data on burnout "recovery," and the similarities and differences between Autistic burnout and conventional clinical burnout. The full piece is free to read or have narrated to you in the Substack app at drdevonprice.substack.com

[aureatelys]

like cherries in the spring

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 4k bc i cant stop myself

content warnings: 18+ PLEASE MDNI, porn without plot, consensual somnophilia (mentions of discussing it beforehand), intercrural sex sorta, thigh fucking sorta idk what to call it but thats close enough, brief v fingering, eventual p in v, light dom/sub undertones because thats who i am, light bondage (being held down), light choking (just a hand on your throat), unprotected sex, no y/n, established relationship, employee/boss relationship duh, self indulgent <3

summary:

You were barely conscious when you felt something poking your butt.

read on ao3 here or below <3333

You were barely conscious when you felt something poking your butt.

You try to blink awake, immediately blinded by the sunlight filtering in through the blinds. For a second, you think you’re still in Los Angeles with the California heat making your clothes stick to your back, working on a kidnapping case, which means you need to get up and get ready fast.

However, someone stirs behind you, and you realize you’re not in California. You’re home, in your bed, and being spooned by Aaron.

You try not to sigh in relief so as not to disturb him. He needs the rest, obviously, based on the fact that Aaron tends to get up like clockwork at 8 in the morning, even on his days off. You crane your neck to check the clock on your bedside table. Nearly 9:30 in the morning.

You’re almost tempted to wake him up, knowing that Aaron will be secretly annoyed and feeling like he slept the day away, but then you remember how late it was when you got in last night. The team just got done with a case in a Los Angeles suburb and decided to fly back home despite how late it was, which meant that it was really late when you finally made it back home. You distantly remember leaning on Aaron’s shoulder, trying not to fall asleep standing up, and him grunting for everyone to take the following day off and hearing everyone let out a tired cheer. You weren’t able to sleep on the jet, envious at everyone else’s ability to take a nap as soon as they closed their eyes, and kept Aaron company while he finished his notes.

You remember sitting across from him, the glow of the reading light shining on him with his head ducked over his files. He was clearly exhausted just like everyone else, evident by the bags underneath his eyes and the way he attempted to hide his yawn every couple of minutes, but you know that he always makes an effort to try and finish the paperwork the same day while the case was still fresh on his mind.

You had a book open in front of you, long forgotten, as you rested your chin in your palm and stared at your boyfriend.

He glances up at you every now and then and shakes his head to himself, smile on his face, when you make no move to stop staring almost dreamily. It’s not your fault he’s so handsome, even when he’s running on 4 hours of sleep.

“Ridiculous,” he had muttered, feigning annoyance, however you felt him knock his feet against yours underneath the table. Something warm settles in your chest at that.

You remember stumbling into Aaron’s apartment, through the living room, and falling face first into the bed. You hadn’t even bothered to change into your pajamas, but you were just too tired to care, evident by passing out as soon as your face hit the pillow.

It didn’t matter now, however, as you felt Aaron’s body pressed up against yours, so warm it was nearing unbearable. You felt his soft exhales against the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and the beginning line of his morning wood poking your ass. You felt the soft comforter brush against your bare legs and realize that Aaron must have changed you in your sleep, leaving you in your panties and a tank top.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling utter want tugging at the bottom of your stomach. It had been a couple of days since you guys had done anything, even with the shared hotel room. Working on a kidnapping case in a shitty hotel with thin walls didn’t really set the mood, no matter what anyone said. Sure, you and Aaron were able to sneak in some heated kisses and touches, but never more than that before both of you were falling asleep with case files and medical reports at the foot of the bed.

You carefully pushed your hips back against him, feeling his cock twitch against you. Aaron shifted, throwing his arm over your waist, however his breathing was still deep and heavy. He was usually a light sleeper, a result of the job, so him not waking up from that must mean he was more tired than he let on.

You’re still groggy, but an idea slowly forms in your head. Of course, you two didn’t get the chance to discuss this last night, but you distantly remember a conversation several weeks ago where you told Aaron you wouldn’t mind too much if he woke you up by touching you or going down on you and whether he would be interested in you doing the same to him.

He had given you a look so dark, pupils blown and a smirk slowly forming on his mouth, that you wanted to drop to your knees right there in the kitchen.

Instead, he leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of your head and mutter a “Some other time, dirty girl.”

Now seems like the perfect time.

You move your hips back again, relishing in the way you can feel Aaron’s cock grow bigger, harder. You wiggle and let out a breathy sigh when you feel him migrate to between your ass cheeks. It’s not enough and definitely not close enough to where you really want him, but it feels good. Dirty, just like Aaron had said.

You move up on the bed a little more, careful not to stir too much, lifting your hips from the bed a bit until his clothed cock was between your thighs and pressed right against your pussy.

You moan at that, clenching your thighs when you feel that familiar throbbing in your cunt, wishing he was already inside of you.

But this feels good too. Two layers of clothes between Aaron’s thick cock and your wet pussy. You start to move your hips against him, breathless at the way the head of his cock barely grazes your clit. You can feel the wet spot undoubtedly forming on your panties, your wetness helping his cock glide against you.

You feel yourself get carried away, chasing the small sparks of pleasure running up your spine just from feeling the girth of his cock against your hole, when you feel Aaron’s arm that’s draped over you move.

You freeze, though you’re not sure why, it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, when you feel his hand come up to grope at your breast over your top.

You hear him hum, still breathing warm air against your neck, and feel him somehow press closer against you. You wait for him to say something, either teasing you for being so horny and rubbing up against him or wordlessly tugging his briefs down to press his cock against where you need him, but there’s nothing.

He’s still asleep.

You exhale in relief, ignoring the nagging thought in your brain saying why are you into this, you freak, but then Aaron’s hand on your breast starts moving, just barely groping.

You’ve known that Aaron has always been a touchy guy behind closed doors, always hungry and wanting to be close to you wherever he got a chance. He’s said it’s because he loves your body and not being able to touch you at work drives him crazy, and you can tell he’s telling the truth from the way his jaw clenches when you lean over his desk to hand him a file or the look he gives you when you cross your legs sitting across from him on the jet and your skirt rides up.

At home, you let him have your fill. He’s constantly groping your tits, pinching at your nipples. He’s grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing, and grabbing your hips so hard he leaves bruises. He has a hand on the back of your neck and pushing your face into the mattress or wrapping his large hand at the base of your throat, putting light pressure as if a reminder of who you belong to. He loves touching you and you clearly don’t mind, however you’re seriously wondering how obsessed he is with your body if he can touch and grope you in his sleep.

He's squeezing your breast and canting his own hips against you. You feel his cock twitch again and the wet spot he must be leaving through his briefs drags against you and your thigh. You bite your lip at that, unsure whether Aaron was about to wake up or not.

You feel his hand move from your breast to your abdomen, fingers just barely brushing over your nipple, making you almost jump, and wrap his arm around your middle. You hear him grunt, something masculine and deep that makes you want to lose your mind, and feel him thrust into you, rutting into you like he can’t control himself.

You whimper at the feeling of being constricted, imagining Aaron’s veins popping out of his forearms. Not caring whether he’ll wake up, you reach down to pull at his briefs just enough so his cock pops free. You sigh at the feeling of hot flesh against your thigh and your mouth waters when you feel precum leaking down the head of his cock, smearing on your panties and thighs.

You wait and strain your ears to listen to Aaron’s breathing. Somehow, it’s still steady.

You’re starting to get impatient, just about to throw this all away and wake him up to sink down on him, but then you feel his bare cock press against your hole through your panties and it just feels so good. You know that if Aaron wakes up, he’s going to want to fuck you fast and hard and honestly, you’re having a lot of fun teasing yourself.

He stops humping into you, the arm around your middle relaxing, and he grumbles a bit and presses his face against the nape of your neck. His breath tickles you.

You start moving your own hips again, just barely, enough to feel the slow drag of his cock against your clit through your panties. They must be absolutely soaked through right now and you desperately wish you could just take them off without waking Aaron up and press the head of him into you, stretching you out. A sweat starts to break out on your back and on your neck and Aaron’s body heat, naturally running warmer than you, isn’t helping but you don’t care.

You hear a sharp inhale, a particular deep thrust against your pussy, and then a “What do you think you’re doing?”

You freeze, feeling like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar and not like you were humping desperately against your boyfriend like a teenager. “Uhm.”

His left arm moves up from where he was still wrapped around you, brushing purposefully against your nipples and making you whine, to wrap his hand around the base of your throat. He doesn’t put any pressure, but just the weight of his hand is enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“I said,” he whispers, exhaling against your ear. He thrusts his hips once against you, making his cock slide against you better in a way you could never replicate. “What are you doing?”

You swallow, unsure on how you want to play this. The low deep rasp of his voice this early in the morning always sends you reeling. “Nothing.”

Aaron hums and the grip he has on you tightens just a bit before he’s trailing down your chest. This time, he flicks your left nipple, making you jump and bite your lip at the same time, and moving down past your stomach and to your pussy. “This doesn’t feel like nothing, honey.”

His hand traces the waistband of your panties and the curve of your hips. The callouses on his fingers are rough, but familiar, making you squirm against him. Aaron hisses at that and it’s like he finally snaps as he reaches between your legs and roughly pulls your panties to the side to thrust his cock against your bare cunt, hips slamming into yours.

“In fact, it feels like you’re being a dirty girl, rubbing up on me like you can’t help yourself.”

Your gasp morphs into a moan when you feel the head of his cock finally brushing your swollen clit, no clothes in the way. Now you can feel how sopping wet you are, making the glide of his throbbing cock against your pussy smooth and perfect. This whole thing feels dirty, like you’re trying to take what you can get before you can get caught even though there’s no one else home with Jack being at a sleepover. The thrusting of his hips against yours to rub against your wet folds just makes you think about him fucking you into the mattress until you’re a whining mess. “Aaron…”

 “What do you want, baby?” Aaron murmurs, starting to press soft kisses behind your ear. Hearing his early morning voice again makes your insides turn into a puddle. The warmth of his body and his cologne from yesterday still barely detectable is intoxicating, making you spread your legs a little so his cock nestles deeper against your wetness. You start to move your own hips to meet his and the lewd sound of your pussy and his hips slamming into yours is so so hot.

“Please…” you whine, the words dying in your throat because your head is swimming, and you don’t know exactly what to say. You secretly hope he knows what you want—what you need.

Aaron suddenly gets up to sit on his knees and moves you with a hand on your hip so you’re laying flat on your front, face pressed into your pillow. You nearly cry at the loss of pressure against your clit, but he quickly puts a hand on the back of your head to shove your face into the pillow. He straddles your thighs, roughly moves your panties aside again to insert a thick finger inside of you.

You moan wantonly at the feeling of finally being filled, the sound muffled against the pillow. His finger goes in easily due to how wet you were, but the feeling of being stretched even just a little bit make you feel drunk.

“Is this what you want, pretty girl?” He moves his finger in and out of you fast, almost rough, but it’s still something and it can still make you come if you try really hard since you’ve been playing with yourself for what feels like hours.

You already start to feel the beginning pressure at the pit of your stomach, clenching and unclenching around just one finger. Your clit is barely getting anything out rubbing against the sheets, but you don’t even care, having been on edge for days. “Yes, yes—Aaron…”

Aaron hums casually from behind you, as if you guys were talking about the weather. “Are you going to come for me?”

You nod furiously into the pillow, moving your face to the side so you can breathe more easily. “Yes, yes, please—”

Suddenly he takes his finger out of you with a loud and vulgar noise, nearly making you scream in frustration. You’re about to yell at him, maybe even turn around and smack him on the shoulder, until you feel your panties being quickly tugged down your legs, the head of his cock up against your hole, and then pressing in.

“Oh…,” you moan, nearly sighing in the familiar feeling of being properly filled. There’s a slight burn from that stretch you secretly love. The hand he had pressed against the back of your head migrates to the back of your neck, grabbing a hold of you so possessively it makes you squirm.

Aaron leans over you until his face is next to yours, his soft moans like music to your ears as he bottoms out. “Fuck, baby, you’re still so tight…”

You try to crane your neck to look at him, desperate to see his face. He has his eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration, most likely trying to resist immediately fucking into you. His hair is almost artfully mussed, fluffy and falling into his face. Yesterday’s stress is gone and instead is replaced with absolute desire. His other arm is pressing into the mattress so he can hold himself over you and you nearly start to drool at his bicep bulging out, the veins in his thick forearms prominent.

And as if he can feel your eyes on him, his eyes open. They’re dark and piercing, pupils nearly blown out. There’s a hint of that damn smugness in the corner of his mouth, but it smooths out into something softer around the edges when he leans in to press a closed-mouthed kiss against yours. He knows how much you hate morning breath.

The tender action makes something clench in your chest and you wonder again how you got so lucky.

All sweet thoughts fly out the window when Aaron pulls out slowly until just the head of his cock is in you. You moan at the sudden loss and squirm, knowing how much he likes seeing your hips move.

Just like you predicted, he growls and slams back into you, pressing his hips against the flesh of your ass. “So needy.”

“Aaron, please…” you beg, moving your arms from underneath you to behind you in an attempt to touch him, feel him, something.

Because Aaron is Aaron and somehow can read your mind, you feel him grab both of your wrists together in one hand to press against your back. You have no leverage now and can breathe a little easier now that he’s not pressing down on your neck, instead his other hand gripping onto your hip.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give what my dirty girl needs,” Aaron coos, almost mockingly in the way that makes heart stutter, and then he starts fucking you so hard the breath gets knocked out of you.

He’s relentless, no more teasing and rubbing up against his cock. The grip of his fingers on your hip and wrists are tight, hopefully enough to leave bruises, as he essentially pulls you on and off his cock. He fills you out so good, hitting that spot inside of your pussy that sends sparks up your spine, making you feel like your brain is short circuiting. It’s like you can’t even think anymore, which is a normal occurrence when Aaron fucks you like this, and all you can hear is the wet sounds of your pussy, his hips slamming against yours, and moans that he’s not bothering to hide anymore.

You distantly can hear yourself begging to come, nearly screaming yourself hoarse. You’re sensitive, nearly overstimulated with the way Aaron is pounding into you, and you just want to come already. The sheets are wrapped around your thighs, barely rubbing against your clit, and it’s not enough and you arch your back the way he likes, move your hips in an effort to tell him to touch you. “Fuck, oh my God, Aaron.”

“You need me to touch you, baby?” Aaron says, breathlessly, and you know he’s close too, probably holding off until you come first because you know that’s something he likes.

He must be just as impatient as you are because he’s immediately releasing his hold on your wrists to wriggle a hand underneath you and rub your clit in a way that was delicious but almost rough, almost painful enough that it sends you over the edge.

You choke on your moan as you feel your pussy clench on his hard cock, squeezing your thighs together. Your hands find purchase clawing at the sheets underneath you, wrists tingling from where he held onto you. Your mind blanks out, empty besides the sheer bliss wracking your body. Aaron keeps fucking you, keeps flicking your clit, groaning your name and it just adds to your orgasm, nearly making you roll your eyes back into your head.

You feel him fuck you faster, harder, and you had just begun floating down from your orgasm when Aaron comes inside you with a deep and guttural moan. You’ve always loved hearing the noises he makes; how manly he sounds, how deep his voice can get, and the way he whispers your name like a prayer. The noise he makes when he comes, however, is definitely in your top 3.

“Fuck, you take my cock so well,” Aaron grunts, thrusting into you one last time. The hold he has on your hip is nearly painful, definitely bruising. You moan unabashedly at that and the feeling of his warm come inside of you, filling you up. You clench down on him one last time, milking him for all he’s worth, and you hear Aaron’s choked laugh behind you.

He slips out of you, and you feel his eyes on your pussy; probably swollen and absolutely a soaking mess with your wetness smeared all over your inner thighs. He hums, finally satisfied, at the sight of his come dripping out of your cunt, dripping down your slit and onto the sheets. You feel his thumb come and trace your hole, gentle, but making you squirm nonetheless at how sensitive you are and sending a shock through you. His hand is on your hip again, squeezing in a warning, silently telling you to take it.

And you do, keening softly when you feel the rough pad on his thumb brush your clit, smearing his come around. You always had an inkling that Aaron was dirty, with his domineering voice and the way he so easily takes control of a room when he walks in, but you were in for a rude awakening when you both finally stopped dancing around each other.

You hear Aaron inhale sharply when you clench and unclench, probably pushing more wetness out onto the sheets, and you almost brace yourself for his cock to press against your hole again when you feel the bed dip and Aaron getting up to the bathroom to help clean you up. You’re only slightly disappointed, but then remember it’s not even noon and you got the rest of the day left. You bring your arms to cross and rest your head on them while you wait, smiling to yourself as the languid relaxation seeps into your bones the way only getting fucked out of your mind does.

Aaron is tender and gentle while he cleans you up. Underneath all the stoic and cold demeanor, Aaron has always been a huge softie and loves taking care of you, no matter the occurrence. You feel that care when there’s large hands and a towel, warm on your thighs, your hips, your ass as he presses his lips to the bottom of your spine. You feel the barely there scratch of his stubble and hum.

When he’s done, he crawls up the mattress to his spot and settles down with a huff. He immediately is wrapping around you, flinging his arm and leg over you to pull you in closer as you laugh. Your face is pressed against his chest, flushed pink, and you impulsively press a kiss there against the wiry hair. You feel him kiss the top of your head, no doubt smiling because he secretly loves the attention you give him.

“You okay?” Aaron asks, so soft in a way that makes you want to wiggle further into him.

Instead, you push back a bit to look up at him where he’s already watching you, eyes affectionate. Your legs are tangled with his, hips pressed against each other’s despite knowing how sweaty he is. His mouth, usually in that straight line, has softened, and the sight of his bedhead and relaxed brow makes you want to spend the next week touching him all over. His cock pressed against your thigh, half-hard, tells you that may be possible.

“Perfect,” you say, and then you push at his shoulder until he flops on his back, gazing up at you almost reverently as you climb on top of him to straddle his hips.

One of his hands wander up your thighs until he settles on your hip. His hair falls into his face, his eyes still drowsy but the hunger plain as day. He brings his other arm to rest above his head, against the pillows, in a clear show of his muscles that makes your mouth water. He looks devastatingly handsome and just so hot, it’s really not fair.

“Good morning,” he says, casually, as if you’re not quietly losing your mind.

You give him a devilish grin and push your hips back until you can feel the head of his cock against you, already hard and leaking precum against your ass. Satisfaction curls up your spine when his small smile falters and his jaw clenches. You lean down, knowing that he loves the feeling of your breasts pushing against his chest and nipples dragging, until you’re hanging your lips right above his.

“A very good morning, it is.”

[honeyhotteoks]

do you have any advice on like getting better with writing?

hey! i definitely do!! i’ve talked about this before but i have a lot of new readers, so ill start off by saying i’ve been writing for my entire life, and im 30 so thats a lot of years. if you’re a new writer, trust me i used to be there and good god if you guys could see the stuff i published in old fandoms 💀 really, really bad haha

i only say that because i by no means consider myself a great writer, there are fic writers in this space alone that i’m always so floored by and look up to…. but people have been very kind about my writing style and it’s something that took time to develop it’s not something i just “had”. outside of fic, i was a literature and creative writing major, and got very used to writing and workshopping pieces.

now! onto some actual advice —

1. read a lot and read more, but read stuff you actually like and not stuff you feel pressured to read. i love high brow litfic as much as the next pretentious english major, but i started writing a ton after reading a bunch of kindle unlimited romance because it was fun and it got me inspired

2. watch well written television for dialogue and pacing. people do not talk in proper english, they don’t say things eloquently, and there’s a lot of filler and fluff. that’s good! that’s real, so i love well written tv to show me how it’s done

3. get comfortable writing in weird ways. for years i used to sit down and be like “ah okay so chapter one” and then i was stuck, stalled out, and just felt bad about the process. when i started writing both aurora and tnt, i started in the middle. i had an image of a scene in my mind (for tnt it was actually the claim attempt) and i just wrote it out and then bounced around later

4. outlines are your friend! sometimes i’ll get a random line of dialogue in my head or an image but that doesn’t mean i’m ready to write it. i throw it in one big outline so i don’t lose it.

5. if you’re wanting to write really good smut i have two suggestions but please only do this to your personal comfort level. this is what works for me but do not make yourself uncomfortable— for good smut, i watch porn for reference and for good dirty talk, i listen to nsfw audio. i like to really write the visuals for smut and make it immersive but lol i haven’t experienced everything ive written about and logistics of the body are hard!! i usually find a video or an audio and let that help guide the imagery im writing.

6. be comfortable with the editing process. i know the temptation to post something the minute you finish it is there, but sleep on it. come back and edit it, read the dialogue out loud if you have to. i swear you’ll make the piece better just by leaving it and coming back.

7. don’t be afraid to post. most people are kind, and the worst thing that will happen is you don’t get a lot of notes. that’s okay, it’s a process.

8. research! as i’m writing anything, even a silly little oneshot, im doing research on something. i am hyper aware that im not korean and have never spoken korean or lived in korea, so for my fic i try my hardest to ground elements of that in reality. i truly cannot tell you how many hours ive spent reading like korean case law on revenge porn just for like 3 lines of dialogue. and you don’t have to go that crazy, i’m arguably too intense, but i do think some of that helps the story and the dialogue feel real.

9. describe something real- every place in my writing is based on something real. every apartment, hotel, cafe, venue, etc., they’re all either something i’ve found online or drawn from my life and use that to my advantage. i use apartment listings and save photographs, i do google map walks to see what neighborhoods look like, anything to get the feel of a place or an experience. for the christmas chapters of aurora, i watched hours of gwangju walking tour videos on youtube while i was writing just to understand how to describe their walk in the snow. it really helps me to have a visual that i can put words to.

10. find your weak points and see what other writers do differently. if you want to improve, you should find a small place to start. is it dialogue? overall plot? smut? etc. - i’ll never forget being on a creative writing retreat, and a very important writing professor said to me “everything you write is very pretty but you haven’t said anything. you have to decide to say something.” that feedback hurt, but sent me down a much better writing path when i realized where i was falling short and not challenging myself.

okay i hope some of this was helpful and if it’s a mess im sorry im on mobile. i really just love writing so deeply and will always talk about it, so i hope this was helpful 💗

[gumnut-logic]

Lego Volcano (Part 6)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Lego Volcano - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

I wrote more :D And this was fun :D

Still @idontknowreallywhy, @sofasurf @womble1 and @sailing-on-a-puddle and other wonderful Thunderfam peeps’ fault :D

Extra special thanks to @onereyofstarlight for actually writing a few small bits of this as I fell out of my knowledge zone and needed serious help, and also for Kiwi advice regarding Alex - gotta help an Aussie speak Kiwi because I miss lots of things. We all speak English, but differently :D Couldn't do this without you.

All the hugs to those who commented and reblogged yesterday's chapter. You guys keep Alex alive :D

This little fic is now nearly 10,000 words long, like 9,950+

M/M and full of fluff still.

I hope you enjoy this bit :D

-o-o-o-

o-o-o-

Scott woke groggy and hot.

It was to be expected. Apparently he was sick. Damnit. Anger and frustration flared in his belly and most of the groggy part of waking up was washed away.

A tickle in his aching throat had him swallowing hard.

He opened his eyes to the infirmary. He sighed. Grandma and Virgil were going to be intolerable.

His throat tickled again and he shifted on the bed, looking for the expected cup of water. Sure enough, there it was on his bedside table. Virgil was wonderfully predictable at times.

He reached out and his body creaked as he sat up, but the cool water was a balm on his throat and worth every movement.

His tablet was sitting beside the water and he grabbed at it eagerly. He needed to reply to Jack, their lawyer, regarding the latest suit from Fischler. Jack quite enjoyed tossing Fischler’s lawyers around the courtroom, but Scott would prefer a quick end to the latest shenanigans, both he and Jack had better things to do.

His tablet lit up…in green. Oh, damn.

John has restricted your access. Play a computer game, read a book, or watch a movie. International Rescue and Tracy Industries are all being expertly handled. Carly has her instructions. John and I have your back. Relax, Scooter.

Scott let air out between his teeth.

PS: Please look after Alex for me.

Huh? Scott frowned. But as if to answer his unspoken question, a snuffle alerted him to the fact there was someone else in the room.

The tablet landed on the sheets as he realised Alex Sweetapple was sleeping in the chair beside his bed. The lanky engineer was sprawled haphazardly across the furniture, blond hair sticking out in all directions.

Virgil had obviously snuck in at some point as there was a pillow in the man’s lap.

The thought of Virgil sobered him. His brother had been so sick, and now Scott was off rota…damn. He shifted on the bed, frustrated.

Alex muttered something, curled around the pillow and onto his side, now looking even more uncomfortable than before.

He snorted in his sleep.

Scott eyed the man. He couldn’t ask for a better employee, but he was a walking hazard, mostly to himself and apparently he was hazardous in his sleep as well.

And Virgil loved him.

The thought brought a small smile to Scott’s face. It was so good to see Virgil so happy. Alex was smart, goofball or no, and seemed to be able to match his brother on engineer topics - the two of them could babble excitedly for hours.

He was also very loyal. Tia’s reports were shining, Alex was definitely an asset, he worked hard.

The worship in his eyes was occasionally hard to handle. ‘Mr Tracy’ wasn’t sure he could live up to the reverence accorded him.

But Virgil loved Alex.

And that was enough.

He sighed again and let his gaze rest on the ceiling. The very worst part of being sick was the boredom.

His tablet bleeped.

He grabbed it.

A system of equations filled over half the screen.

Oh, so that is how it is, John? Going to distract me with math, are you?

But even as he thought it, the numbers started taking shape. He'd need a Jacobian matrix to approximate the first part of the solution, unless he applied an RK4 numerical method... knowing John, he'd need a justification showing the minimisation of error.

His lips curled up to one side. Okay, let’s do this.

-o-o-o-

Alex woke to humming.

He cracked open an eyelid to find he had shoved his face into a pillow at some point - explained the struggle to breathe.

His neck creaked as he moved and as his body came online, he realised he had fallen asleep on the wrong furniture again. Erica probably had photos.

Again.

The humming was interrupted by a dry cough, but after a moment started up again.

It sounded happy.

Alex unfolded and found himself in a hospital room? Wha-? But then his brain booted fully, supplying him with details of last night and Mr Tracy-

Mr Tracy!

Alex sat up straight and the chair teetered. A wobble, two feet on the ground and he managed to prevent himself from falling on his head, but it did all get the blood pumping and consciousness clear and functioning.

Mr Tracy was sitting up in bed and…writing on the bed sheets.

Wha-?

His boss had a black marker in his hand, had spread out the sheets on the bed and was methodically making notations.

While humming some triumphant overture, his voice cracking here and there, proving he was still the sick man Alex had caught early this morning.

What was he writing?

With yet another creak, Alex quietly pushed himself to his feet and every muscle complained. Wasn’t the first time he had slept awkwardly, wouldn’t be the last, but he was more concerned with the numbers Virgil’s brother was writing down…was that a Jacobian matrix?

His eyes danced over the somewhat smudged digits on the bed. Numbers and letters lined up in chains, reading them…omigod…

“That’s beautiful!”

The humming ended in a squawk. “Alex!” The ‘A’ in his name cracked and Mr Tracy sounded more like his youngest brother than himself as his voice skipped up an octave.

But Alex only had eyes for the work on the sheets. “How did you get such a perfect solution?”

“Wha-? Oh,” he cleared his throat again, “John likes to distract me with math.”

“I’d say he succeeded.”

Mr Tracy grunted and coughed again.

There was a smudge of black ink on his cheek.

The numbers were just amazing. “How did you get that solution?”

Mr Tracy’s eyes darted between Alex and the numbers on the sheets “You can read that?”

“God, yeah.”

He stared at Alex a moment longer before pointing out a particular section. “John thought he could catch me here. The variable could easily be switched out and replaced with a static whole number - it would solve it perfectly, but a bit on the boring side. If you input an exponential function here, however, it creates a whole array of possibilities.”

Alex focussed on the equations. Whole number, yes, he could see that, the answer was clear. But if he threw in the function…the numbers just danced. “That’s so elegant. The pattern is perfect.”

“Yeah.” Scott was grinning.

Alex looked up to see those tired bruised eyes lighting up.

John was apparently right.

Scott liked maths.

Now this was a language Alex could speak.

“What happens if you put in a polynomial?”

-o-o-o-

Virgil yawned. He really wasn’t up to it, but he had to do it. Much better than Scott killing himself.

Two would be landing momentarily, with a furious Gordon aboard, and he needed to help his brothers with post-situation protocol…and possibly talk Gordon down from something vicious…that John had probably already enacted…yeah, his brothers were chaos itself.

But their hearts were in the right place.

Earlier he had checked on his biggest brother and found both him and Alex asleep in the infirmary. Grandma had left firm instructions with John adding his own version of early morning events.

Fortunately, while Scott was still very warm, he was finally getting some rest. The bed readings provided some reassurance.

Alex was a gymnast in sleep as usual. The man could sleep anywhere in some of the most outlandish positions. It certainly wasn’t the first time Virgil had needed to dig up a pillow or picked up his boyfriend and haul him off to bed.

He was adorable when he was asleep.

Of course, mentioning this when Alex was awake brought on all the flushed embarrassment which had its own adorableness that always needed to be kissed away - any excuse, really.

So Virgil was smiling when he gently tucked the pillow under Alex’s head.

And the thought had him smiling right now.

But before Two landed and almost inevitably disturbed Scott, Virgil wanted to check on him.

To his surprise, as he approached the infirmary, laughter was echoing down the hall.

“He really thought that?”

“Yeah, to infinite decimals and beyond.”

That prompted more laughter which suddenly dissolved into coughing and had Virgil hurrying into the room.

Which was not the room he had left earlier.

The infirmary was draped in bedsheets, a cupboard left askew where they had originally been folded neatly. Now they were stuck up on the walls with surgical tape and draped over the curtain rails.

And covered in mathematical notation.

At the centre of the room sat Scott in bed scribbling with the black markers Virgil had left behind earlier in the hope that John would be able to trigger a math distraction.

Apparently, he had.

But he hadn’t thought his boyfriend would end up with black smudges all over his face and hands.

Because Alex was beside his brother, holding the bed sheet so Scott could write on it.

“I think we should cube this.” Alex pointed at a spot on the sheet. “It will look good.”

“Hmm, I think a factor of…seven will be prettier.”

Prettier?

“You could be right. It definitely needs to be an odd number. Even would be too regular.”

“Yeah.” Scott scribbled something. “What if we cube this and seven that. They’ll work nicely together.”

“Oh, I like that. Follow that one through.”

As Virgil watched, Scott jotted down several lines in his smooth precise hand. His tongue was sticking out the side of his mouth as his eyes darted back and forth, calculations bouncing in the blue.

Alex’s eyes were following the numbers and every now and again, he would make a suggestion or ask a short question…

“Oh, I see what you mean. The seventh iteration is just perfect.”

“The third isn’t that bad either. That’s why they work so well together.”

Virgil found himself grinning like a loon. He knew Alex could speak math. You didn’t get to do any engineering without math. But he had no idea he could speak at Scott level math. Hell, even John got lost sometimes at Scott level.

And to see the two of them so relaxed in each other’s presence…

“Virgil?” Scott was suddenly frowning at him. “You okay?”

“Virgil!” Alex dropped the sheet and hurried over. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I was helping Scott and then fell asleep and then…did you know Scott likes maths? Not just maths, but real maths? The fun stuff?” His boyfriend was positively vibrating.

Virgil couldn’t help but grin. He placed his hands on Alex’s arms. Seriously, the man was bouncing. “I’m fine. And yes, Scott likes math. I didn’t know you liked to play, though.”

“Oh, um, sometimes.” His eyes darted back to Scott for a moment. “Usually I stick to applied math, and I’m certainly not at Tracy level.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He leant up, kissed Alex gently on the cheek and whispered in his ear. “If you can keep up with Scooter here, you’re definitely up there.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Alex brushed his fingers across Virgil’s left temple.

He let his head drop against his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’m tired, but I’m fine.” He looked over at his brother. “I’m more concerned about Scott.”

But his big brother was peering at the sheets again, eyes wide. It was obvious he had thought of something.

The marker came down and scribbled another line.

“But then again, he’s resting and amused.” Virgil’s ears picked up the approach of Thunderbird Two. He looked up at Alex. “Keep him distracted a little longer?” Alex really did have dark eyes, Virgil could stare into them all day.

“Sure.”

Scott was muttering something about a polynomial.

“Thank you.” Thunderbird Two roared into land as Virgil leant up and kissed Alex, clinging just that moment longer before letting him go.

“Hey, Scooter, zero point nine to infinity still doesn’t equal one.”

“Virgil!” His brother’s outrage was echoed by Alex’s sudden ‘What?!”

Virgil just laughed as he left them to it.

Their discussion of his lunacy followed him down the hall.

-o-o-o-

TBC

[deoidesign]

Thinking about vampires, death, life, and the space they occupy in between

[ellabswilliamson]

You guys won't BELIEVE the wip im cooking up rn

Ellie and Abby are arguing over something stupid (like who's the most traumatized or who's the most awesome or some shit), Dina is a mildly concerned but mostly neutral observer of the chaos, and Jesse is playing crossword puzzles and trying to ignore Dumb and Dumber.

Image description in alt text

Based off of the image below

[necrotic-nephilim]

Hey there, are you ok?

hey! thank you for checking up on me, this was really sweet!

i SWEAR i did not die. i just got a bit busy doing SladeRobin Week (which i will finish so help me god-) as well as things in my real life. i'm still trying to find the balance of like. fandom creation and working. i am very lucky to have the living situation that i do rn, but it is the sort of schedule where i do have to be ready to watch a baby at really any given point so. it's a tricky balance right now, but i'm going to be active here again! maybe not as many asks answered a day as before, but i want to try to answer like, a few a day and whatnot.

i also think i got briefly overwhelmed, in that i got more asks faster than i answered them. which is the opposite of a problem and something i'm very lucky for! but it did make it difficult for me to keep up and know what to answer next. (this is *not* a discouragement to sending asks! i love them all and pls send as many as you want! i just am a little slow sometimes so i appreciate the patience! <3)

so! i'm back and i'm good, ty for asking! we are back to the regularly scheduled programming <3

[moonstruckhaze]

boyfriend shirt...

update: if you like this art, please go check out this fic that @chessala wrote for it ╥⁠﹏⁠╥

update cont: this is the first time someone's ever written something for art that I've made, and I'm still so happy and touched beyond words that she wrote this. she was even kind enough to share the initial draft with me and asked for feedback and even worked in little suggestions i had for expanding on different parts of the writing, which was so fun and collaborative and I haven't gotten to do something like that in ages. I'm so overwhelmed (in a good way) and it feels like getting to beam the full mental vision of the scenario i had in my brain while working on this piece into the mind of anyone who reads it; ;

i know these close up crops are a bit silly but well. i did my best lol... the full version is up on my alt twitter linked in my pinned post ♡

please also observe the little 🐰 logo.... it is silly & crucial....

[fluentisonus]

working full time with normal hours has convinced me more than ever that actually high school Could have been a sane & even enjoyable time for me if it weren't for the homework. sick & twisted tbh

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Every time Prapai gives Sky medicine, he's narcoleptic inside 5 minutes.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[carcarrot]

scrolling back through my liveblogging of the day of the nyc concert because of recent notifications and its such a fun mixed bag of emotions to relive it all again

[seaofreverie]

Anyway how is everyone doing

[hoeheaven]

Either this week will end or I will

[oflgtfol]

ok so i hate writing intelligent posts abt malevolent bc im scared of posting theories that are stupid and wrong but like. im feeling that the eponymous fallen star of the order of the fallen star. is john. like this is a cult not about the king in yellow like that in season 1, but instead about the “fallen star” that fragmented off the king. Augh

[diari0deglierrori]

I FORGOT TODAY WAS THE DAY WITH NO ELECTRICITY THEY TOLD US ABOUT A FEW MONTHS AGO I KNEW ID FORGET ABOUT IT THE DAY IT WOULD COME