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colubrina · 5 years

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So I’ve been trying to start writing for a very long time now with zero results. Could you maybe give me some tips?

Oh, I love giving writing advice, though I admit I always feel like a complete imposter. Who am I to give writing advice. But as that would never stop the average dude from spouting off, I shall attempt to be as confident as a mediocre guy and hold forth from my position of dubious authority.

1. And that’s my first tip. You have got this. Embrace indefatigable confidence. If this thing is not exactly what you want it to be, have no fear because without fail the next thing will be better, because...

2. Writing is what’s called a complex task. You have got to hold a lot of things in your brain all at once to do the wording, and when you start, that is going to feel super hard. There are the basic mechanics of putting a sentence together. Orthographical conventions (how do you spell it, how do you punctuate it) take getting used to even if you had an excellent English education. No school program prepares you for the endless comma confusion that you will get writing. What do you mean some of them are optional but not that one? Then there are things like story structure, and character arcs, and looking out for filtering language, and filler words, and you still have to tell an interesting story in all of that which people will want to read. It’s a lot to manage all at once, especially when you are starting. All of which means...

3. You get better at it the more you do it, so give yourself a lot of slack as you start because, like I said, you have got this.

More practical tips:

1. Set yourself a reasonable daily goal based on what you know about your own life. For some people that is 3,000 words. For some, it is 100. It is totally fine to have it be 100, and it is, in fact, better to set a goal that’s easy to reach. Don’t do the writing version of starting to go to the gym in January where you swear you’ll go for an hour every day after work, and 1 week later you’re exhausted and you hate everything. I’m not a huge fan of nano for exactly this reason. I think it sets people who don’t write on a daily basis up for failure, and then they feel crummy. 1300 words a day is a lot of words, especially if you aren’t ‘in shape.’ Don’t do that to yourself. But 100 is a pretty easy goal. 100 is a paragraph. If you hit 100 and you are still flowing, you can keep going, If you’ve ground out 100 and every single one of them hurt, congratulations you made your goal and you can stop while still feeling pleased about your progress. (Some people swear by time instead of word count. They’ll sit down and write for 15 minutes with no distractions and if at the end they’re still going then yay. If not, well, they spent their 15 minutes and it’s all good.)

2. A lot of writing is figuring out the mental games you need to propel yourself through the tricky bits. I know that I really like to have first readers who send me their in-real-time responses to chapters that don’t have to be at all critical or thoughtful. Some people like to see word counts grow up pretty charts. Some people like playing word count game. (I’ve never used it, but try 4thewords) I love drafting, and I love revising, and really the only part of writing I don’t like is trying to publish and getting a sad, sad response. That said, there are days where words come really quickly, and days where I am slogging through the mud of ‘how do I get this person from point a to point b where she stabs the dude.’ Getting some supports in place for yourself to make those slogging days easier

3. Write short things to start. A 3,000-word one-shot is a much easier goal to hit and finish and post and be pleased about than a long fic. Don’t bite off more than you can chew for your first project. Start with something simple. ‘Draco and Hermione go shopping for a baby crib’ not ‘Draco and Hermione experience a long infertility journey with much emotional trauma that covers 3 years and five of their friends getting pregnant/having kids. This is a variant of the ‘have small daily goals’ thing of step 1.

4. There are a gazillion ways to write and everything everyone tells you about how to do it is a lie. Or, rather, every person can tell you what works for them but not what will work for you. We can all generalize somewhat, but anytime I answer ‘how to write’ it’s going to be grounded in how I write. I don’t outline. Some people outline loosely. Some people outline in immense detail. None of these is wrong, but the only way to find out which one works for you is to try them all. Same as with the ‘what gets you past the slogging bits?’ techniques. I know what works for me. You will figure out what works for you via trial and error. Try outlining first: it seems to work for more people than my ‘outlining kills it dead’ stuff. Sometimes I dictate a story as voice to text while walking briskly around a reservoir, making everything think I’m nuts, then clean up the text afterward. It is a technique worth trying.

tl;dr

To start, outline a short story with a simple plot that can be easily resolved. Set yourself a short daily goal that will be super easy for your life to accommodate and do it even when you aren’t in the mood. Find friends who will cheer you on as you share what you’ve written. Cut yourself some slack when your first story isn’t War and Peace. Writing is hard. You’ve got this.

#writing advice #on writing #I bloviate #Anonymous

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orenonahaichigoda · 5 years

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Ask Meme for Muse

Yoinked from: @twistedstarlitspirits

Tagging: @akanekishimoto (Yours is an OC, should be fun!)

Name: Kurosaki Ichigo

Aliases: none

Gender: male (trans)

Age: Varies by thread

Date of Birth: 15 July 1984

Place of Birth: funny, he was actually born in Fukuoka. None of his family ever lived there. His parents just kinda happened to be there that day. Everyone thinks this means he was raised there. Nope

Hometown: OK,so "town" doesn't mean the same thing between Japan and America. In Japan towns are a division of wards, which are a division of cities, at least as far as cities go. Rural village is rural village. It's kinda like, if anyone's familiar with Los Angeles, how Compton is a town inside the city of Los Angeles. Anyway, Karakura is a fictional town inside Toukyou. So his hometown would be both Karakura and Toukyou.

Spoken languages: He's actually pretty adept at language. Not quite sure how much I wanna take from my project,which already has a few prequel fic up, but he speaks a few Asian languages and European languages each. He definitely speaks Cantonese, Spanish, French, Punjabi. He has trouble with English because he's just had a lot of crummy JET-type teachers.

Sexual Preference: I'm assuming this actually means "orientation." For that, panromantic grey-ace.

Occupation: Depends when you get him. It's really tempting to give him my career (except Japan has a social safety net,so he'd probably work for the City of Toukyou) because I went into it for the same reasons Ichigo resonates with me. You may get him as a student, though. You may get him with a baby at home being a stay-at-home parent. I'm just gonna say it varies.

Hair colour: Red.

Eye colour: Brown

Height: 173 cm.

Scars: holy cow, tonnes of them. We know wounds in soul form transfer because of Ichigo being in his body bandaged up after fighting Yammy. So yeah, just tonnes.

Burns: yes,some of those are burns. Ceros and all.

Overweight: Depends when you get him. Having kids can cause extra weight. So can drops in level of activity, and adults can't go running into adventure whenever.

Underweight: no. Which is good. Underweight is usually dangerous, I hear. A few kilos over isn't a big deal

Favourite hair colour: Different people look good with different colours.

Favourite eye colour:Same.

Favourite song: I really can't imagine having a single favourite song unless you don't like a whole lot of music. Ichigo would definitely listen to a bit of everything, so he doesn't have one.

Favourite movie: Watching Rashomon for the first time blew his mind. He likes things that make him think

Favourite TV show: Honestly, the last time he followed a TV show, he was twelve. No time.

Favourite drink: He likes horchata and Chad finds this adorable. Also hot chocolate.

Favourite book: Someday, he plans to be able to read Twelfth Night in its original form.

Passed university: Depends when you get him. He definitely had to take smaller classloads for longer than the average student, though.

Had sex: He has at least one kid at any point

Had sex in public: He's too careful with who he lets know at all that he's trans.

Kissed a boy: Has children by one or two other men depending on thread. Done more than that

Kissed a girl: He's panromantic, so it's possible, depending on thread

Tattoos: Verse dependent. Taking from plannedstuff from my fic, he gets an yinyang symbol on his body right where Aizen magically branded Grimmjow si he'd feel better.

Piercings: Not sure.

Been in Love: Chad, Grimmjow, others depending on potential thread

Had a broken heart: Does it have to be romantic? Or can his mother's death count?

Stayed up for more than 24 hours: during both Rukia's rescue and Orihime's rescue. Also training to beat Aizen was,for him, three months straight. Also, labour with his daughter (first kid) was 35 hours.

Virgin: nope, teen parent. The reason I wrote that is because I went to high school during the '90s teen parenting boom, and saw parents be horrible to their kids in a time of need. Those who wanted abortions couldn't get them, many put out on the streets, miscarrying in a dirty public Bat because of stress of being rehoused with abusive relatives. I put social issues into my play.

Cuddler: Yes, but don't tell anyone

Kisser: Not much

Scared Easily: He's really afraid of failure. He feels as if he has to bear the world, and is afraid of people suffering if he fails. Badly.

Jealous Easily: in romance, he's poly, and is pretty secure about the love in his life. He used to be jealous of the freedom people without power had, but when he lost his, realised it was like losing a leg. Not anymore.

Trustworthy: With everything except being honest about his feelings, or if you rely on him in a bleak situation, he'll make it out to be way better than it is because he feels responsibility to your peace of mind.

Submissive: Not in fighting. Sort of middle ground in leadership. He may be the first into the fray or the secret weapon, but he'll usually be following the lead of someone older, wiser, and who helps him find the way to win.

Dominant: He can call the shots and lead the team, but he kinda tends to not do that. He'd rather have it be a true team effort. He's also right garbage at strategising.

In love: If you get him during very specific points, he may be in the "in love" stage with Grimmjow ir his career or otherwise. Mostly it's more like "bonded by a deep love" that "I'm so in love I'm floating on air "

Single: Eh, Chad will never not be around, but per project, they realise some incompatibilities and stop dating, only to decide to be secondary partners later on. That will probably be true here, too

Siblings: twin sisters (to each other, not him) Yuzu and Karin.

Children: Kurosaki Yasuko, b. 25 May 1998 with Chad, Kazui, b. 23 April 2005 (Google that month and day, not year) with Grimmjow, potencia others

Parents: Issin Kurosaki (sorta living,a soul in a gigai) Masaki Kurosaki (deceased)

Pets: None. Kon is kinda treated like a punching bag and a pet in turn, but he has a human mind...

#ask Meme #musings #about muse

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fuckyeahjeremyclarkson · 6 years

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The Grand Tour special: Jeremy Clarkson and co on returning for a new series of globetrotting high jinks

“Buckle up, world, we’re ready to rumble again”

Steppe brothers: fraternity was in short supply in Mongolia, where Clarkson, May and Hammond had to build a small off-road machine to get them back to civilisation To make the new Amazon Prime series of The Grand Tour we went to China, Sweden, Arizona, France, Doncaster, Finland, Detroit, Mongolia, Spain, Azerbaijan, Colombia, Georgia, Doha and Scotland. China was the worst. It was a nightmare. The location was Chongqing, which, with more than 30m people — if you count everyone in the metropolitan area, — is the biggest city in the world. And don’t feel embarrassed: I hadn’t heard of it either. It’s known as the furnace of China because in the summer the average daytime temperature is well above 40C and the sky is a constant, dripping-wet shade of grey. It’s like being in a hot bath and, hilariously, the air-con in James May’s crummy old Mercedes S-class was broken. This made him very cantankerous.

Take the high road: the three plot the route for their Scottish drive

Richard Hammond was also cantankerous because he thinks it’s weird to eat fish. So he was completely flummoxed by the local dish, which is a cow’s tendon cooked at the table in a bucket of chilli-infused napalm. And lived for eight days on nothing but rice. I was also cantankerous because in Mandarin there’s only one word and it’s no. After six months you finally get a permit to film on one side of the road but when you arrive it’s obvious that you should actually film on the other. It makes no difference to anyone. Nobody would care. But when you ask for permission the answer is no. God knows how they have a problem with overpopulation. And there’s no point shouting because the Chinese regard us in the same way that we regard slightly fat insects. Three days in and I was tearing my hair out. I’d love to say that despite the issues we came back with a gem of a film. A masterpiece. But the truth is it’s a turd. We’ve polished it, of course, till it gleams and sparkles with handsome panache, and it is fun watching May literally melting. But it’s still a turd. Detroit is the opposite. It’s bloody great. All of us tear around that post-apocalyptic backdrop in three muscle cars. And muscle cars, as I say in the film, are like power-rock ballads. If someone asks if you like Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’, you’ll huff and puff and say, “No, of course not.” But if you are driving alone on your own and it comes on the radio, you will turn it up and sing along. Yes, you will. Don’t argue. So it goes with the cars we were driving: a 700bhp-plus Ford Mustang RTR, a 840bhp Dodge Challenger SRT Demon and the 1,000bhp Hennessey Exorcist Camaro. Stupid cars. Stupid noises. And stupid names. I mean, RTR stands for “Ready to Rock”, and how infantile is that? Very, and I don’t care. I loved all those cars and I loved racing them in the derelict factories. It’s one of the best films we’ve done in years. And one of the most enjoyable to make. Detroit is coming back. You can find a restaurant that serves dumplings in a goose broth right next door to a blood-spattered crime scene. And you can buy a four-bedroom house for £1,800. I know, because we did. And that was one of the lighter moments. In Colombia a spectacled bear ate my headlamp; in Arizona I was trapped on the roof of a moving and driverless recreational vehicle; in France I chased down a De Tomaso Pantera GTS — and all that’s before we get to the track stuff and the McLaren Senna and the Alpina, and the Jaguar XE SV Project 8 and the new Lancia Stratos. It’s been one hell of a year, and there hasn’t even been time so far to mention how we filled Lincoln Cathedral with anoraks or how I drove a Lamborghini Urethra up a ski slope. Not even Sir Attenborough does more in a series. And not even Tom Cruise travels further on his impossible missions. But the best bit, for me, was our trip to Scotland. The idea was simple. In these days of escalating classic-car values, even a Ford Escort Mexico will cost you more than £60,000. So we decided to see if there are any old, interesting and pretty cars out there that can still be bought for sensible money. Pretty soon we had a Fiat X1/9, a Lancia Gamma and an Alfa Romeo GTV6. And all we needed then was somewhere to test them out. We settled on Scotland because one of our producers is from north of the border. Which meant we could show the rain and the heroin and the midges and he’d be livid with us. To begin with, everything went perfectly. It was terrible. The weather was miserable, my Alfa broke down, the houses looked as if they’d been deep fried in batter, there were speed cameras everywhere and every view had a rusting oil rig in it. “This is not at all how it looks on the shortbread tins,” dead-panned Hammond.

Off-road included on water in Mongolia But then our plan went wrong, because we somehow ended up on the A835 from Inverness to Ullapool and, let’s not beat about the bush, it was spectacular. We’ve travelled the world in search of the best road and we’ve come across many contenders. There’s the Transfagarasan Highway in Romania, the road from Davos in Switzerland to Cortina in Italy and the Hai Van Pass in Vietnam. There were snow-capped mountains. There was sky the colour of an Icelandic girl’s eyes. There were slate-grey lakes and linking it all together was a twisting and turning ribbon of grey with absolutely nothing on it. Almost every great bit of road these days is ruined by cyclists huffing and puffing in one direction and coming at you like gristle missiles in the other. But not the A835. There were none. There weren’t even any police patrol cars because they’re all on the so-called “North Coast 500”. Described by Condé Nast Traveler magazine as possibly the best road trip in the world, it’s become a magnet for Subaru and Mitsubishi Evo enthusiasts. And Plod, who likes to pull the cars over to look at their engines and fine the drivers. There’s none of that nonsense on the route we found and as a result the drive I had in that Alfa was up there alongside a trip on gravel roads through the Northern Territory in Australia in a BMW M6 Gran Coupé and another through the Atacama desert in Chile in an on-its-last-legs Range Rover. I shall never forget it. If this were the last series of The Grand Tour, I’d go to the vegetable garden with my pipe and slippers a happy man after a drive like that. But contrary to what you may have heard, it isn’t the last series. You’ve got us for a few more years yet — starting on January 18.

#Jeremy Clarkson #Richard Hammond #James May #The Grand Tour #Sunday Times

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littlemisskookie · 7 years

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Tantalizing: 02

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 Ship: Jungkook | Reader Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge. Warning: Sub!Jungkook, Orgasm Denial, Degrading Names, Exhibitionism, Masturbation Word Count: 4,706

Jungkook’s sex life seemed to be bland, needless to say.

Ever since his high school days, when he started exploring all the women he could desire, it seemed the same. He’d quickly dominate the girl, taking perhaps a month or two to get the girl to be another notch on his belt, and she’d be a quivering mess beneath him, and he took glory awakening the sex beast inside of her that seemed to relish in being dominated. Of course, to make things a bit more extra for him, he’d pick the more so conservative, shy, or innocent type virgins, taking pride in how he corrupted her. But the cherry on top was when he got her to orgasm, after depriving it of her once or twice, and he’d let her finally feel as though she earned it when her legs were shaking and she was quivering around his cock.

And the look they’d give. The puppy eyes she’d use to stare up at him after he wrecked her, and all for him to simply kick her out of his house. He found himself being rather a sadist, enjoying how wide-eyed and shocked she’d be after he bragged about getting her to cum and how loudly she moaned beneath him. The school would know the details, and his friends would make bets on whether or not he’d get the next chick. Anyone would be a fool to bet against him, needless to say.

He couldn’t remember a single girl’s name, he had to admit. Their faces blurred to him, and it all started to be too mundane. Part of him was begging him to try something new, something titillating and exciting, that got his blood pumping and adrenaline flowing. The other part of him was telling him to stick to what he knew, and perhaps his next fuck would simply make it as fun and exciting as it used to be.

And here he was, at a noisy club, sitting at the booth and staring into his alcoholic beverage. He remembered how ecstatic he’d be once he saw the curiosity showed in the girl’s eyes, and he knew she wanted him. He’d be ready to pounce, and he’d lie about how good she’d feel or how good she was. After all, the better the experience, the farther it’d crash down for her. She had to at least enjoy it so that he could brag about that.

He was in a slump at the moment, and he knew it. Nothing was exciting for him, and he was in some of his prime years, being a grown adult, in college and such. What was up with him?

He was aware of the body that slipped into the chair next to him, and his eyes raked up the long legs and short skirt, and his eyes flickered up to your face. You were pretty, perhaps not the prettiest, but definitely, a looker compared to the average person. Your makeup was heavy, but not in a completely awful way that made you look like some tramp. He guessed you were one of the girls who cared too much about her appearance, who was on birth control and wore heels on a daily basis. AKA, one of the girls other girls hated and guys wanted to screw as a prize.

Still, Jungkook plastered on a grin, figuring out that he could probably have you crumble within seconds. Your face seemed a bit familiar, but he wouldn’t be Jeon Jungkook if he so much as bothered memorizing the face of some girl.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in such a crummy club such as this?” Jungkook asked, quirking a brow as he took a sip of his drink, letting the bitter liquid slide down his throat.

“What’s a handsome man like you doing here without a girl pinned beneath him already?” you smirked, unfazed by his compliment.

“You wishing to be pinned beneath me, sweetheart?” Jungkook grinned.

Your expression was stoic and dark. “Oh, I wouldn’t be the one being pinned.”

His brows jumped at that. This was new, but he wasn’t turned off by it, he had to admit. “That so? Have you never been dominated, or did it go completely wrong with a guy who didn’t know what he was doing?”

You scowled. “I’ve only ever been dominated once, and I think it gets rather boring. Why? Have you never had a girl tell you what to do? Who didn’t tell you what she wanted and didn’t push you to your limits? Or have you simply been cramming your dick into whoever’s willing to simply lie there?”

Jungkook’s eyes were wide, sensing you were telling the truth about only being dominated once. “Fiesty, you’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you? Keep talking like that and I might have to wash that filthy mouth of yours with a bar of soap.”

You simply smiled at that. “Perhaps if I found you man enough, I’d show you what this mouth could really do.”

Jungkook smiled at that. “Then why don’t we head into the bathroom and you can demonstrate?”

You shook your head, the corner of your mouth quirked up. “I don’t think you’d be able to handle it. Besides, you haven’t earned it, and the path to reward has to come with punishment, does it not?”

Jungkook shrugged, curious to where you were going with this. “I suppose. But I’ll have you leaned over the counter and watching yourself getting fucked in the mirror, maybe I’ll find you worth my time.”

You scoffed. “Worth your time? Please, you probably aren’t worth mine.”

“You’re the one who came to me, remember?” Jungkook pointed out, feeling haughty. He was enjoying this chat with you, admittedly, and he could feel his dick harden a little beneath the fabric of his jeans.

“I wanted to see if you were man enough,” you sighed, smiling as you shrug and lean back. “I guess I was wrong.”

At those words, a fire ignited in Jungkook., The first time you mentioned he wasn’t man enough, he dismissed it. But clearly, you were starting to actually believe the fact. Him? Not man enough? He scoffed at the fact. His pride and ego wouldn’t stand for ‘not being man enough’. He found himself determined to prove you wrong. Perhaps you were the one that would get him out of this rut of boredom.

“Please,” he seethed, gritting his teeth. “I’m plenty man enough.”

Your eyes twinkled, and you smiled at him with utter deviousness. “Then follow me into the bathroom, and follow every command I make. If you so much as refuse or disobey me, I’ll leave you with blue balls.”

“Fine,” Jungkook huffed, sliding off the chair and making his way to the bathroom. He glanced back to you, raising a brow. “Are you coming or not?”

“That’s none of your concern,” you glared. “I’ll be there in a minute, just be there once I come, like the good boy I know you can be.”

Jungkook felt his dick twitch at the name you used, and he started to head to the bathroom, wondering whether or not this was such a good idea. But whatever his thoughts were had been betrayed by his body, because his cock was already starting to become hard. And you hadn’t so much as laid a finger on him, how was this possible? Was this how the girls he used felt back in the day?

He found himself anxiously waiting in the bathroom. It was one of the bathrooms the clubs had, where it was one room with a toilet and a sink with a mirror. Sure, they had the other bathrooms with stalls, but this was the room that was begging to be fucked in since this particular club knew there was no way to avoid shameless activities.

He was pacing already, staring down at the bulge in his pants, begging to be free from its restraints. He leaned against the counter of the sink, tapping his foot either from impatience or nervousness. He had no idea which, but it felt nerve-wracking either way.

The door finally opened, and in you stepped, your eyes lighting up as you saw him. You locked the door carefully behind you and grinned at Jungkook. “Are you ready, baby?”

Jungkook bit his lip, staring at you, the stare dark and brooding. “You’re the dominant for tonight, you tell me, baby.”

You laughed. “Maybe it won’t just be tonight if you’re lucky. Now, show me your cock.”

The hair on the back of his neck spiked up, and he found his fingers itching for his belt, fumbling to pry it off. He dragged the waistband of his boxers and jeans down to around his knees, letting his erection stand tall at your blunt request.

You crept forward, eyes boring at his glistening dick, the head pink and angry. “I’d bet girls always marvel at how big your dick is, hm? They go on about how full you make them feel, and how big you are, aren’t I right?”

He felt so bare under your gaze, but he wouldn’t admit that. Jungkook didn’t know what to respond, and your eyes flickered to his, quirking a brow.

“I asked you a question. I expect you to answer,” you said.

“Yes,” Jungkook says, the cold air starting to get to his sweating figure, his cock hitting the cool air. “Yeah, they do.”

“I’d bet you always have some girl boosting your ego, right? And going on and on about how good you feel,” you smirked. “I’d bet you like this change, hm? You like the fact someone hasn’t laid a finger on you, and you’re already so stiff and ready for them. I haven’t even touched you, and look how hard you are for me. Aren’t you such a good boy?”

Jungkook stared down at how his dick twitched, rigid. “Y-Yeah.”

“I want to hear you say it,” you demand.

“I’m a good boy,” he stammers. He had never been in this situation before, and some part of him seemed to be enjoying it too much.

You grinned deviously. “That’s right. Look, you’re getting even harder now. You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Jungkook admitted. “A lot.”

“Touch yourself,” you commanded, leaning against the wall. “Touch yourself just like how you do when you’re alone at home.”

Jungkook was hesitant, but his hand crept down to wrap around his dick, fingers moving up and down his shaft, his thumb rolling over the tip as he bobbed his hand back down, spreading the precum that had begun to form.

“Play with your balls,” you went on. “And whatever you do, don’t cum.”

Jungkook’s other hand reached down to cradle his balls, massaging them in his hand and playing with his own testicles.

“You’re so dirty,” you mumble. “Getting off in front of me. Aren’t you?”

“I’m filthy,” Jungkook went on, his hand quickening around his length as he bit his lower lip, dragging it between his teeth. What was going on with him? Never before had he been so quick to bend to a lover’s demands. Usually, he’d be the one shouting commands like this, but this made his heart quicken, and it made him feel utterly filthy as he felt you stare down at him.

“You really are,” you giggle. “Turn around for me, and stare at yourself masturbating in the mirror. I want you to see how disgusting you are.”

Jungkook did as he was told, and stared into the mirror, watching how his hands played with himself, his hand bobbing so quickly up and down his shaft, and his hands rolling his balls beneath. He was a panting, sweaty mess already, and he was sure he was going to cum soon. What was it about this that turned him in so easily? Perhaps it was how new it was to him, how it awakened his systems, and simply how it opened another part of him he never encountered before.

“I’ll be honest, sweetheart,” you snickered behind him, using the nickname in a mocking tone as he let a groan escape from his lips. “This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He saw his cheeks flush pink in the mirror, and felt his high coming close. You noticed how sloppy his pumps were getting, and stepped behind him, turning him around to face you. Swatting his hand away, you hid behind your hair, squeezing the base of his dick to where his high was starting to disappear, and he let out a whine to protest.

“One word, and you won’t get your reward,” you threatened, and he let you squeeze him until the wave that was about to approach simply disappeared.

“F-Fuck,” he panted. “God, you’re torturing me.”

You grinned. “That’s the point, baby.”

You laughed, stepping back. “You can jerk off again, and this time I won’t stop you. GO ahead, and don’t mind me.”

Jungkook hastily grabbed at his cock, jerking it for his life to regain the high he was going to approach before. He let his eyes rake up your legs and body, and repeated the filthy words you said about him in his mind. How was it this got him off so easily? Fuck, who were you to do this to him?

You reached behind you, unlocking the door and opening it wide. Jungkook’s eyes widened, and he stopped, looking out into the open hallway. Anyone could walk by and see him there, with his red and rigid cock in his hand, and immediately scream. After all, you had to pass this bathroom to get to some of the others down the hallway.

“Did I tell you to stop?” you asked. “It’ll be fine, I won’t let you get caught masturbating like the desperate, horny boy I know you are. God, you’re like a teenage boy, you know that?”

Jungkook was frozen, but it was as though his body was betraying him as he started jerking off slowly, the thrill of getting caught making him even more turned on. He was so sensitive, he knew his high would approach quickly.

You took out your phone from your purse, and put on the camera and pointed it at him. “Can I take a picture of you like this? It’s so hot, I’m sure I’ll get off to this from days on end.”

It seemed to make more blood rush to either his cheeks or his cock, and he nodded in earnest.

You shot the photo of him with his hand wrapped around his cock, his dark stare from beneath his fringe looking straight at the camera, and his lower lip caught between his teeth. You put the phone back in your purse and continued staring at the man.

“You look so good for me, I admit,” you licked your lips. “Your legs spread as far as they can with your jeans around your knees, and your hand around your dick. Does it turn you on that much to know that anyone can just walk in here and see you touching yourself? Touch yourself faster.”

His hand jerked around his cock, quickening the uneasy pace, and he felt himself letting out low moans, tilting his head back each time his thumb rolled over the tip, and his other hand was massaging his balls again. He went faster and faster, and he felt his high approaching like a tidal wave.

“Look at me,” you commanded. “I want to see your face when you cum.”

He did as he was told, staring at your expectant gaze, half expecting you to stop him. He threw his head back, letting out a loud moan, and silently prayed no one outside would come looking for them. It wasn’t until his orgasm crashed down on him, and cum started leaking from his dick, shooting out and onto the door on the other side from the opening of the doorway. It was only about two feet from him since it was such a cramped bathroom, and you stared as the cum reached the door, hitting the metal, the liquid sticking and starting to drip a bit.

You scooped some of it out with your finger, and it was hot and sticky on your skin. You grinned, “You were such a good boy, weren’t you? Now, have a treat and taste yourself.”

He parted his lips willingly as you crept closer, sticking your two fingers in his mouth, and he sucked it off, his tongue twirling around your small fingers. It was salty and slightly bitter. Never before had he tasted that, he could safely say.

“So, did you enjoy the new experience? It certainly looked like you did,” you grinned devilishly.

“Y-Yeah,” Jungkook admitted. “Fuck, that was…”

“Hot?” you finished for him. “New? Exhilarating?”

“All of the above,” Jungkook confirmed. “I… Would you want to do that again sometime? I… God, I don’t think I’ve had such a great orgasm before in my life.”

“Oh, and look who was such big talk earlier,” you laughed. “But I suppose we could do this again sometime. If you’re lucky. I suppose you were worth my time.”

His stare was dark as he looked down on you. Fuck, he wanted nothing more than to dominate you now. To slap your ass and pound into you against the door that had his cum dripping from it. But another part- the recently discovered part- wanted nothing more than to feel your touch and hear what other profanities you’d whisper in his ear.

He realized he didn’t so much as give you his name yet, and you hadn’t even given him yours.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he said. “And you?”

You had a slightly perplexed expression, face blank as he pulled up his jeans and boxers and re-buckled his buckle, staring at you expectantly.

“What does it matter?” you shrugged, dismissing the question. “But it was nice having fun with you, Jungkook-ah.”

“You sure you don’t want to come back to my place?” Jungkook asked, his eyes looking over your figure. “Maybe I could show you my own version of a good time. I’d be more than willing to eat you out for hours on end, overstimulating you until you beg not to cum anymore.”

He didn’t fail to notice how your thighs squeezed together slightly, and he grinned, thinking you’d take him up on his offer.

“You haven’t earned the right to any of that,” you said. “Not yet.”

He wore a crestfallen expression, one of disappointment.

“Then at least exchange numbers with me. I don’t want this to be the last time this happens,” Jungkook says. “Like I said, I’ve never cum so hard in my life.”

You laughed, your eyes glinting. “And to think you doubted me before. Alright, give me your number. I’ll give you a call next time I decide you’d be fun to play with.”

Jungkook hastily swiped for your phone as you handed it to him from your purse, and inserted his digits into your contact list. You took it back, and waved him goodbye with a twinkle in your eye, walking out of the bathroom.

“You were such a good boy, Jungkook,” you whispered at the doorway. “Think of me next time you touch yourself like that. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He watched you as you disappeared, and thought over the whole experience. How easily he bent to your will, and he knew his cock would get hard again before he went to bed, and all at how the random girl at the club dominated him.

“Dude, you look fucking wrecked. You’re sweating like a pig,” Jimin marveled at his roommate. “Did you get some at the club or something?”

Jungkook’s two best friends and roommates, Jimin and Taehyung, were both curled up on the couch, watching some action movie.

“Sort of,” Jungkook muttered. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“What do you mean sort of? Was it head?” Taehyung piped. “Man, give me details, I haven’t gotten laid in like months!”

“You used protection right?” Jimin asked worriedly. “I don’t want to find out you infected half of the city with one of your fucked up STDs.”

“I got tested last week, Jimin. For the last time, I don’t have an STD,” Jungkook huffed. “And besides, I can’t recall a single time I didn’t use a condom.” It’s true. He never fucked anyone without a condom. He was careful since the very first time he had sex, and he wasn’t the type to take risks when it came to health.

“Well, you used protection then, right?” Taehyung said. “Or did you get a blowjob?”

“Neither,” Jungkook muttered.

“What do you mean by that?” Jimin asked, wide-eyed. “That makes no sense!”

“You guys are so small-minded if you think that there’s nothing more you can do than get head or have intercourse,” Jungkook rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“What else could leave you like such a mess? You’re drenched!” Taehyung sputtered. “Enlighten us, if we’re so ignorant.”

“I’m done with this conversation,” Jungkook huffed. Truthfully, he didn’t want to talk to them about how he jerked off in front of some random stranger, where he could have been walked in on by anyone. He didn’t want to admit he had the hardest orgasm in his life without laying a finger you and with you being the dominant one. He was scared of not seeming masculine in front of them. But they were his best friends, they wouldn’t judge him for this, right?

Jungkook had a lot more kinks than he thought he did, he realized. Never before had his sub-side been awakened, and never in a million years would he have imagined that scenario would’ve happened. It was crazy, it was risky, and it left him questioning every sexual experience he had to mind.

Sure, he realized he had kinks, but mainly dominant ones. He remembered that one time he stuffed a girl’s own drenched underwear in her mouth to muffle her moans in a janitor’s closet on campus. And there was one time he spanked a girl so hard and so many times that her ass was such a bright red it might as well have been a stop sign. He was a sadist, sure, and he loved when girls were masochists. But never before had he realized he’d enjoy when the roles were reversed.

His favorite thing was degrading girls. Shoving his fingers in their mouths and whispering in their ear about what filthy little whores they were, sitting on his dick. He knew dirty talk was their weak spot, but never before did he expect it’d be used against him. God, it really started to do wonders on him.

Shit, he was getting side tracked. Jungkook walked to his bathroom, turning on the shower to a hot one and stripping down already. Stepping into the hot water, he relished at how you had managed to give him a boner with only her words. A perfect stranger who seemed to know his weak spots, who saw right through him. Who humiliated and degraded him to a point he got off on it.

His dick twitched, and he realized he was already getting hard just thinking about it. He wrapped his hand around it, pumping it slowly and mainly around the tip as if to tease himself.

He started thinking about how you’d do it, had you laid your small, soft hands on him. You’d tease him relentlessly, he was sure. You’d whisper about how dirty he was while pumping him, and perhaps you’d tease that he wouldn’t last long, not even two seconds, around your mouth.

Jungkook started pumping faster, jerking off just like how he did in front of you.

And he fantasized even more about how once you had your fun, he’d shock you enough where he’d fuck you nice and slow, having you whine beneath him. Your breasts that were practically popping out of your little tight dress would bounce free, and he’d leave love bites and mark you so heavily you’d feel sore. He’d pound into you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for days, and he’d whisper such filthy things in your ear you’d blush. He’d top the dominant one, and you’d cry out from overstimulation as he ate you out for perhaps the fifth time.

Jungkook’s pace quickened, and his breath was heavy, grunts escaping his pink, parted lips. Fuck, you’d probably taste so sweet. You’d feel so warm and tight around his cock. Maybe you’d whisper about how filthy he was as he was inside you. Or perhaps you’d beg for more from such a good boy. Or maybe he’d force your legs open and thrust into you, and you’d moan out about how well he filled you up, and how much you meant it. How he was the best fuck you had ever. He wanted to make you scream, and he wanted to serve you. He never felt like this before.

His pumps were quickly getting sloppy, body shaking as his cum shot off onto the wall of the shower, rinsed away as Jungkook tried to splash some water on it. He huffed and panted, wiping his hand against his stark and chiseled body and combing his fingers through the wet strands of his hair.

He watched his dick soften, and his chest rose and fell with deep breaths.

What were you doing right now? Jungkook imagined you perhaps catching your next prey, but that wasn’t the fantasy he wanted to conjure. Instead, he started to imagine you sitting on your bed, your legs spread apart and hand reaching down to your throbbing pussy. Your clit would be pink and swollen, and you’d twirl the nub around your small fingers, legs shaking in sensitivity. Your underwear would be discarded to the floor, and in your hand, you’d be staring at the picture of him in the bathroom, his aching cock in one hand. You’d bite your lips and throw your head back at the memories, stopping from rubbing your cunt to thrust two fingers inside yourself, curling them up and pumping them into yourself as you ground into her palm.

Jungkook imagined how melodic your cries would be. Maybe you’d have roommates, and you’d have to whine softly to yourself in order to not wake them up. You’d have soft mewls, moaning out his name. You’d bite your lips and screw your eyes shut. Perhaps you’d prop the phone on one of your legs, staring at the picture and continue touching yourself, softly panting Jungkook’s name as you’d lower the collar of your dress to where your breasts would pop out. You’d tweak with the nipple, pulling and tugging at it and start to grope your breast, imagining it was one of his big hands reaching up and feeling you.

How was it you got him so excited? It made no sense, he knew that. He needed to figure out himself more, and he knew you’d definitely help with that.

He shampooed and conditioned his hair, getting done with his shower and getting out, wrapping a fluffy towel around his hips. He looked through the jeans he discarded on his floor and fished through for his phone.

Jungkook knew you wouldn’t have texted him, especially right after what just went down. Still, he found himself staring at his phone, wondering when that day would come when you would eventually text him, telling him you wanted to play. Perhaps you’d text such dirty things to him, saying how much you loved seeing his fingers wrapped around his dick, how you used that picture to your benefit, or what a good boy he was.

Jungkook headed to his room, knowing that if he kept thinking about that shit he’d perhaps be popping more boners than the typical horny, teenage boy. Maybe he needed some other fuck to calm him down, to clear his mind from the enchanting figure that was you.

But as he tugged on some sweatpants and slid into bed, he found himself wondering exactly who you were, since your face seemed so eerily familiar to him.

#smut #bts smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #sin #what the fuck did I write

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coaldustcanary · 8 years

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2016 Fanfic Masterpost

I’ve seen some posts from folks I follow in a number of different fandoms doing a bit of an end-of-the-year writing roundup, and I really like that idea, so here we are.

I’ve been fannish for a long time now - over 20 years at this point, which is more than a little terrifying to consider, let me tell you. But my fannish writing has been very intermittent over those years for the most part, and my participation in fandom was relatively narrow, particularly when I was working on my PhD. Through 2014 I wrote, on average, one fanwork a year for the previous 5 years, as usually I could be counted upon to participate in at least one A Song of Ice and Fire and/or Game of Thrones fanfic exchange, but not much beyond that. I also wrote a smattering of fic prior to 2009, much of it lost to the ages besides some random pieces I managed to get up on AO3. (I really need to take some time to go back and properly back-date those older works, oof. And dig up a few more on LJ communities that I couldn’t find when I did my original looking, if I can.)

But in the past year and a half or so I’ve come back to fandom in a much more enthusiastic way than I have since I was a teenager, thanks to falling hard for the Dragon Age games and then faceplanting into Once Upon a Time fandom. And in the past seven months I’ve written if not a lot of fic, definitely more than I have in a long, long time. It’s been a trip, in both good and bad ways, but I’m glad to be doing it.

The master list in chronological order with brief commentary:

Always Already (Dragon Age: Inquisition) Incomplete Planned eventual M rating, nothing above T in the current chapter tumblr link, AO3 link, 6025 words The Academic Conference AU that started it all this summer. I just could not let this headcanon go until I wrote this first chapter. I haven’t touched it since then for a variety of reasons, but even if I never get back to it I’m pleased with the chapter that exists and it got me back writing. It’s meant to be a massive DA:I ensemble AU, with this particular multi-chapter story involving some eventual Female Trevelyan/Cullen Rutherford, but mostly I just want to finish this particular arc so I can just write snippets in the AU every time I need to say something cathartic about working at a university.

Hunger (Dragon Age: Origins) Rated G, Gen, Alistair & Female Brosca friendship tumblr link, AO3 link, 1835 words A short, introspective piece about one of my Dragon Age OCs. When you grow up without enough food, hungry all the time, what happens when the effects of blood magic make you even hungrier? Natia thinks about her life and her choices and finds common ground with her fellow Grey Warden.

Before a Fall (Game of Thrones) Mature, Yara Greyjoy/Daenerys Targaryen, GoT 6x09 post-ep scene tumblr link, AO3 link, 2698 words Written for the Game of Ships Seven Hells Challenge based off of the prompt “Pride”. I watched 6x09 on the Sunday night when it aired and swooned over Yara and Dany’s interaction. I wrote this intimate encounter the following Monday evening in one sitting. I ship Iron Dragon so very, very much. This fic took only about a month to become my most commented and kudosed fic ever on AO3, and I’m pretty happy with it.

Savior Fair - Princess (Once Upon a Time) Rated T, Captain Swan tumblr link, AO3 link, 2501 words My first OUAT fic, based on the August 2016 OUAT positivity challenge that tlynnwords put together. (I put all my pieces for this in a single work on AO3 called Savior Fair, since they’re Emma-centric.) Fluffy CS pillow talk set post-S5 before I’d much looked at S6 spoilers. I like this fic’s premise and flow, but I totally missed the mark with Emma’s voice in it. Her voice is tough for me, but I think I’m getting better.

Savior Fair - Smile (Once Upon a Time) Rated T, SwanFire tumblr link, AO3 link, 938 words My goal with the OUAT positivity fics was to focus on the best parts of Emma’s relationships with other characters. I think Neal is a fascinating character (and though I don’t ship SF, I’ve been a fan of Michael Raymond-James for a long time and I think he brings a lot of interesting nuance to the guy) and I think a lot about the time they spent together and what it would have meant to 17 year old Emma to have someone smile at her and mean it.

Savior Fair - Heart (Once Upon a Time) Rated T, Captain Swan, 4x12 missing scene tumblr link, AO3 link, 1274 words I needed a scene to bridge the gap between the conclusion to the showdown in the clock tower and Emma replacing Killian’s heart in his chest. Just a little feels-laden ficlet. (Apparently the original script had a line in the latter scene with Emma saying she felt strange holding his heart, and Killian replying that she’s already held it for ages, though I didn’t know that until after I wrote this bit, and it tends in a similar direction.)

Savior Fair - Trust (Once Upon a Time) Rated T, Emma & Milah, 5x14 missing scene tumblr link, AO3 link, 1647 words The last of the positivity prompts I got to (August is a tough time with the semester beginning, so much for my ambitions) and the one of which I’m the most proud. I have A Lot of Feelings about Milah and the way she’s treated in a many corners of OUAT fandom, and I’m still really mad about 5x14. Emma and Milah needed more time to talk. So they mostly talk about what they have in common. (And, honestly, Killian is only a small part of their similarities.) I am certain they would be friends, given the chance.

Steadfast (A Song of Ice and Fire) Rated T, Stannis Baratheon/Davos Seaworth, canon divergence/future fic AO3 link, 4071 words I did three fanfiction exchanges due in September this year, and I wrote this fic for thedevilchicken for the Game of Thrones exchange. Despite the name, this one is open to both book-verse and show-verse fics, and this one is an AU of the former. For some reason I seem to really like writing Stannis-as-king future AUs with a Davos POV, and nothing says Stannis/Davos loyalty than a retelling of a shockingly sad Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale about a broken toy that is loyal to his distant and unattainable love until he’s melted into scrap. (Spoiler alert: This version has a happier ending.)

Distracted (Dragon Age) Explicit, Anders/Karl Thekla AO3 link, 3094 words Smutty roleplaying with spanking written for green_sphynx for The Black Emporium, a Dragon Age rarepair exchange. Playful and porny PWP set sometime well before everything was terrible in Dragon Age 2.

Starstruck (Agent Carter/Doctor Who) Rated G, Gen, Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble, Peggy Carter & Angie Martinelli tumblr link, AO3 link, 3425 words Written for Grey_Cardinal for the Crossovering exchange. Ten and Donna cause a bit of a scene at the restaurant where Angie works. I quite like the premise of this fic and it was fun to write, though I really ought to have come up with more for Peggy to do in it.

Spectator Sport (Once Upon a Time) Rated G, Gen, Hooked Queen friendship, future fic tumblr link, AO3 link, 1063 words After having a really crummy day a few months back, I asked for some fic prompts (pairings and a word/idea) to take my mind off it and my lovely friends delivered. This is just a little vague future fic based on mryddinwilt’s prompt for Hooked Queen + parenting. However much they viciously snark at one another, I think they understand one another pretty well, too. And the mental image of them enduring discomfort to watch Henry’s high school soccer game was too good to pass up.

Wrapping (Game of Thrones) Rated T, Yara Greyjoy/Daenerys Targaryen, University AU tumblr link, AO3 link, 1379 words Written for the Game of Ships “Until Hell Freezes Over” holiday/winter-themed event. I’m actually the advisor for a service learning club at my university, and those valiant students get run ragged as they try to finish up the term and also do good for their communities. Somehow I imagine that Dany would be that kind of overachiever, and Yara would just as clearly be her dubious but devoted girlfriend. I’ve been leery before of writing student AUs because I’m a teacher and it feels a bit odd, but I liked this AU a lot and might come back to it for writing more Iron Dragon because I’m sure canon is going to be a shit-show next season.

Clarity (Lucifer) Rated T, Gen, Linda Martin & Mazikeen friendship, 2x07 missing scene AO3 link, 2785 words I participated in Yuletide for the first time this year (yes, I know, I’ve somehow been in fandom for-freaking-ever and never done it before) and I matched on one of my newish fandom delights, Lucifer. Though this fandom is growing and probably won’t be eligible next year, sign-ups were before most of the season had aired, and my recipient, Lenore, requested Linda and Maze having a conversation about Heaven and Hell. Well, without getting too deep in to spoiler territory, canon pretty definitively implied that such a conversation occurred sometime between 2x07 and 2x08, so I decided it needed writing. Linda is my favorite character on Lucifer, and Maze is an utter gift. Writing this was a bit stressful (I was making last-minute edits the night before reveals from a hotel room) but I’m happy to have written it and received some lovely comments from folks, including the recipient.

So, all told, per my AO3 stats page I wrote 32,736 words of fanfic this year, which is far more than I’ve ever written in a year before. I also am starting to get a grip on what my strengths and weaknesses are as a writer, which is pretty wild but also motivating. My general approach to writing has long been “use deadlines as motivation, panic at the last minute, write frantically, throw it at the world like a grenade and take cover” and while I’m a good enough writer for that not to be as terrible as it sounds, I know I could be a lot better if I continue to change my approach to writing and write more frequently and steadily. Honestly, because I’m an academic by trade, this applies to my professional writing as well, and fanfic is good practice for me to refine my writing habits, which have vastly improved this year, even if they’re still not where I want them to be in the end. Here’s hoping I can keep it up in 2017.

#my fic masterpost #fandom is my fandom #on writing #my fic

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fitnessexpert00-blog · 6 years

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Give fitness trackers a break, they helped me finish an Ironman race

New Post has been published on https://fitnessqia.com/must-see/give-fitness-trackers-a-break-they-helped-me-finish-an-ironman-race/

Give fitness trackers a break, they helped me finish an Ironman race

My watches significantly improved my performance on race day.

Image: ambar del moral/mashable

Wearables have gotten a bad rap lately, and it’s probably because of glorified pedometers like the Fitbit Blaze and Apple Watch that look dorky and don’t do much beyond counting steps. And I’ll admit, I’m one of the people that will readily throw shade at these products for failing to provide useful health information.

But the reality is, there are plenty of other wearables made specifically for athletes that are really helpful, ones that provide valuable information like running cadence, training load, recovery progress, exercise history analysis, and more specific fitness data. I know this because my own Garmin watch recently helped me shave an hour off my 140.6-mile Ironman triathlon race time.

SEE ALSO: This ‘temporary tattoo’ could totally change health care

I was introduced to useful, athlete-focused wearables during my freshman year at the University of Wisconsin. I joined the women’s rowing team and knowing my heart rate became one of the most important things in my life that year.

Then, I got vocal cord dysfunction on a training trip and called it quits. But five months later, my sister Chelsea serendipitously raced in Ironman Wisconsin, and it was shortly after that I became inspired and bought my own Trek Lexa C bike.

Me during a practice row on a training trip.

Image: molly sequin/mashable

And although my rowing watch was only around $50 and didn’t do much, it opened me up to the world of wearables. So, in the spirt of taking on the seemingly insurmountable task of competing in an Ironman triathlon, I decided to pick up a CatEye Multifunction Sports Watch to step my game up so that I’d be ready when it was finally time to race in the Ironman 70.3.

I trained eight months for the Ironman 70.3 Racine, so I learned everything I could about my new watch. It had an accurate heart rate monitor and five programmable zones (or targets) to help me keep my active heart rate stable and my resting heart rate as low as possible. Other features were time and distance intervals and training file storage that helped me keep track of my training plan.

I was waking up at 5 a.m. to go for 15 mile runs and 60 mile bike rides through a crummy Wisconsin spring. I could accurately guess my heart rate at any given moment within two beats. I felt like I had a total command over my mental and physical fitness, and I knew that people training without a watch like mine didn’t have that same feeling.

The day before the race I decided to replace my battery just to be safe. I went for a quick warmup swim the next morning and my watch filled with sand and water after the man who replaced my battery didn’t put the back on tight. That was a huge mental roadblock.

I got through the 1.2 mile swim and hopped on my bike to find out my bike computer was out of commission, too. My sister tossed me a regular old Timex watch so I would at least have some general sense of time.

I finished the 70.3 mile race an hour behind schedule without my watch.

Image: molly sequin/mashable

I finished the race around an hour later than I had hoped for. And I have no doubt that part of that was due to not having the watch I trained with. Although I was a bit upset, I was still happy to have finished my first major race.

But this was the moment I truly became aware of how useful wearables really are in the world of athletics. They feed you so much information about your body, tempo, and the race environment around you. And when you no longer have access to that, it truly feels like you’ve lost a month of preparation.

So, I learned my lesson and made my next watch one that didn’t rely on a replaceable lithium battery. I got my hands on a Garmin Forerunner 235, and that’s what I still train and race with to this day. The Garmin’s great because it’s so light (and in Wisconsin Badgers colors, of course).

The Garmin is basically a Swiss Army Knife of useful biometric trackers. It features live tracking of my routes, gives me notifications about my workout, and tracks my heart rate on my wrist. I can set timers, lap my sets, and dive in the pool with the waterproof watch. It also uses GPS and satellites to track where I’m at, both indoor and outdoor. And there’s way more, too.

I trained with my Garmin for 10 months before competing in Ironman Wisconsin on September 11, 2016. I was nervous to tackle the 140.6 mile course, especially after all of my technological malfunctions back in Racine. On top of that, I had Quadriceps Tendonitis. But I knew that I could count on my Garmin for the day, and the reassurance of having this gadget with me made me somehow feel so much better.

I stood nervously on the shore of Lake Monona and hoped everything would work out. Over 2,000 people competed in the race, and we used a mass swim start. So I swam out about 100 feet treaded water around people with a similar pace. I set a timer on my watch to alert me five minutes, two minutes, and thirty seconds before the airhorn.

I headed to transition with my Garmin on my left hand and my wetsuit in my right.

Image: molly sequin/mashable

My heart beat was out of this world. When the horn blew, I started making my way along the 2.4 mile course. The mass start freaked me out and for a second I didn’t know if I could continue. Then I remembered all of the hard work I put in and went back to work. I checked my Garmin about every 10 minutes during the swim, and it let me know that I was right on track. I gained some confidence and was peeling off my wetsuit an hour and a half after I jumped in the lake.

The 112 mile bike ride wasn’t so bad with my Gamin and Cateye.

Image: molly sequin/mashable

I made my way to transition and hopped on my bike. I have a CatEye bike computer mounted on my aerobars, I just needed my Garmin to give me info about heart rate and general time. And I knew I could count on it as a backup for distance and speed stats if my computer broke.

Eight hours and 112 miles of rolling hills later, I was in transition for the final portion of the race. And my watch was still working beautifully and had enough battery power left to get me through the day.

My knee was hurting pretty badly, and I was experiencing gut rot from all the Aspirin, gel, and Gatorade I was consuming all day. But there’s really no better experience than the running portion of an Ironman. I continuously checked my heart rate, speed, and distance to make sure I was on track for the final 26.2 miles of the race.

I finished the race around 10 p.m. with all technology still working.

Image: molly sequin/mashable

I crossed the finish line in between Lake Monona and the state capitol building at around 10 p.m. and was overwhelmed with joy and pride. All of my equipment kept up with me the entire day, and I reached my biggest goal yet.

And my family, friends, and thousand of strangers were there to support me the whole time. Ironman inserts a chip into an ankle bracelet that every athlete wears for tracking purposes.

So, while you’re tracking the race your way, your supporters can use your number to see exactly where you are during the race the how quickly you’re making your way to the next marker.

The black band on my left ankle is the Ironman tracker.

Image: Molly Sequin/mashable

My own wearable in addition to Ironman’s added up to a day of confidence and a sense of safety for everyone involved. It was great, and the race would have been very different without them.

So it’s time to give wearables the respect they deserve. Yes, there are a lot of average sleep trackers and step-counters out there. But there’s also a whole world of wearables and fitness trackers that play a huge role in athletes’ success. And it’s time to give them some overdue credit.

WATCH: This vibrating fitness roller will stretch and soothe your achy back