#so i'm trying to get myself unstuck

[reneesbooks]

find the word tag

salt and brine is on an enforced break right now for editing/unblocking purposes but i can still Think about them. tagged by my lovely @oh-no-another-idea to find change, grace, escape, and mine <3. we got kamon pov exclusively today

change

Kamon pulls the Hass woman's shawl around his shoulders, hunkering down against another gust of cold air. He can't stop thinking of her expression when he offered to take her with him, the way shock had faded into fear, how she'd closed her eyes and stepped away. He wonders if he had asked again, if he went back—would she change her mind?

grace

Reijka has spotted the beach. She tugs on Kamon's sleeve and points with wide eyes. He crouches next to her and shakes his head. “You won't like it,” he says. “It's very cold.” She tilts her head to the side, unbothered, and he glances up at Meja and the merchant, engrossed in their negotiations. He stands and catches Meja's attention. “Reijka wants to see the Freezing Beach. We won't be gone long.”

She nods and turns back to the merchant, her jaw set in a stubborn way. Kamon offers his hand to Reijka and she takes it, skipping gracelessly alongside him. They make their way down the gently sloping hill, stopping where the grass fades into the strange white sand. Reijka looks up at him questioningly. He crouches down. “Touch it, see?” He puts his hand on the sand and has to pull back immediately, the cold so intense that it burns. “Too cold.”

Reijka slowly sets her hand atop the sand. She cries out, pulling her hand back, and he reaches out to steady her. “It's okay. It won't hurt you. It just doesn't feel good.”

She looks from her hand to the sand, then up at him with wide eyes. He smiles at her, a lump in his throat. He can't imagine how Stian could have wasted so much time hoping for another child while ignoring the beautiful one he already had.

escape

Reijka is sitting on the bed, speaking quietly to her hands while Eima gurgles happily in her cradle. Kamon pauses in the doorway. “Reijka? Who are you talking to?”

Reijka looks up, beaming. “What I was trying to show you earlier!” She holds out a disgruntled-looking frog, clutched tightly in her hands. “He tried to escape but I caught him again.”

Kamon blinks, registering the creature slowly. Meja runs a hand over Reijka's hair, saying something encouraging that Kamon doesn't manage to translate.

“Oh,” he finally says. “That's nice, darling.”

“Do you know what he is?” Reijka turns the frog over in her hands, examining it curiously. “I've never seen one before and neither has Mommy.”

“Oh.” Kamon shouldn't be so speechless about a frog. He thinks he might be in shock. His back hurts. “It's called a frog. They eat bugs.”

“I like bugs!” Reijka says, delighted.

“Of course you do,” Kamon says faintly.

mine

“Right on time, Kamon,” the captain's voice calls out, and the crew backs away to let her pass. She grins at him and gestures with her pipe. “What the hell happened to you, then?”

“Which version of events would you prefer?” he replies. “Leshen doesn't believe mine.”

“Oh?” the captain chuckles.

“He met a beautiful Hass woman who hid him in her cellar and nursed him tenderly back to health under the nose of her scary husband,” Leshen says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The crew roars with laughter and the captain takes a long puff on her pipe, grinning around it. “What really happened, Kamon?”

He shrugs. “That about sums it up.”

tagging @k--havok @writinglyra @akindofmagictoo and anyone else who would like to join in to find expression, fade, creature, and laughter <3

[botched1up1brain]

Short story i made inspired by @meo-eiru 's yandere one eyed monster oc Theo

This is how my oc Zia meets Theo.

.

.

*click*

"My name is Zia Atreya, paranormal investigator. The date and time is September 18 20XX, 2203 hours. I'm on the trail of the creature who's been following me for the past few months, possibly longer. The last time I got a glimpse of the creature it seemed to be 5'8, was wearing a large raincoat, and had one. huge. glowing eye. I have salt, silver, a cross, and a knife, cause who knows what will hurt this thing if I must defend myself. I will be back when I have an update"

*click*

*click*

*sigh*

"My name is Zia, paranormal investigator. The date is September 19 20XX, about 0010 hours.. I've lost the trail, im tired, and I forgot water. I think I need to abandon this mission and resume when I'm *yawn* more awake-"

*leaves rustles amd footsteps*

"..that wasn't me.."

*silence*

*loud running steps, leaves crunching*

"..Oh my god, its right there!"

*more running steps, gasping breathes*

"I saw it's eye! Oh my god I found it! Oh shit- Oof!"

*thump on the ground*

"Fuck! Oww.."

*silence*

"um.. I.. I've lost the creature again.. and my foots- uh! stuck in this tree root.."

*sounds of this girlboss trying to get her foot unstuck from the tree root and failing*

"..Aw man.. okay uh hopefully I'll get unstuck and be back with an update.."

*thud*

".. of course, you dropped the recorder, stupid.. ugh.."

*footsteps getting closer*

"Oh shit.. its coming.."

*girlboss panicking noises*

*closer footsteps*

"Uhm.. can I help..?"

*silence*

*click*

.

I was handed the recorder by a pale hand belonging to the figure. It was like time froze.

I stared at the figure, his face becoming clearer by the second. His eye really did glow in the darkness. His pretty golden iris was surrounded by long lashes and had a round wide nose sitting below, light freckles sprinkled on it.

I recognized that nose. It's usually peeking below a face covered with reddish brown hair, the same hair that frame the unique face of this creature.

I was so lost in his face that I barely noticed he grabbed my foot to pull it out of the thick coiled tree roots. I slowly found my footing despite my right foot aching in pain.

He seemed frozen too, but his face was in a more panicked state. My flashlight bathed us both in a yellow light for a moment, before the boy turned around and ran away.

I didn't chase him this time.

.

*click*

"Um, this is Zia Atreya, paranormal investigator. The date is September 19 20XX, it's 7am. So I did.. technically, succeed in my mission, and I now know who was following me. It's the quiet loner that sits behind me who covers his face, uh Theodore, i think it was? I'm going to hopefully confront him at school today. My foot still aches, but it's not that bad. And my parents didn't hear me sneak back in the house, so yay me. Okay, uh, be back with my update, bye."

*click*

[galactic-magick]

What about shy!inne reader x Mark, where the reader is short and constantly need help reaching things in the supply closet, Mark often ends up helping but one day the reader tries to do it themselves and ends up stuck on the counter? And marks comes to help! Just a thought! Loving the severance stuff 🫶💕

Gonna be honest this was funny for me to write cuz I'm pretty tall myself lol. But it's important to write from perspectives you don't relate to, right? Hope you enjoy this fun little blurb :)

-

Great. Now you can't get down.

Why do the shelves with the supplies you actually use have to be so high up? Who the heck came up with that design?

You know you could just ask for help, but you can be a bit too stubborn for that. For once, you wanted to get something for yourself, without needing to bother the vertically privileged people in this office. You're getting tired of the short jokes from Dylan, and you're tired of embarrassing yourself in front of Mark when you have to obnoxiously hop to reach things.

But alas, somehow you're going to have to get unstuck from this stupid counter.

About five minutes later, Mark wanders in, desperately trying and failing to hold in his laughter at the sight of you.

"Wow, that's cute."

"Hey!"

"You stuck up there?" he smirks, walking towards you and reaching his arms out.

"I just needed some stapler refills."

"I can see that. Come on, grab onto me."

You do as he says, and you meet the floor unscathed. He reaches above you and grabs what you need, handing them to you with another chuckle.

"You know I like helping you, right?"

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do. You don't have to prove yourself by climbing up things. I'd rather help you than have you get hurt."

You smile, a pep in your step as you go back to your desk.

[longhardtransitionreturns]

I'm too weak to stand by the time my wife and our midwife decide it's time to transfer me to the hospital to give birth to our son. I'm splayed listlessly in the birthing pool, my red-rimmed eyes half slipped back in my head. The baby is lodged so tightly in my hips that any tiny movement sends sharp spikes of pain through my pelvis. Pushing is white hot fire and absolutely out of the question so I'm left skewered on the girth of my baby, too out of it from pain and exhaustion to have anymore input on what happens next.

When the paramedics arrive they do their best to hide their shock when they find a 350lb bull dyke with a buzz cut and biker tats inked across her swollen GG breasts grunting in a pool so small I'm touching all the sides.

They move away to confer, likely about moving someone my size, but I'm too out of it to be offended. My big, hairy pussy is bulged out so far it seems almost impossible there's no head showing. My wife Monica moves to my head and kisses my cheek. I can tell she's scared but trying to put on a brave face.

The paramedic who is clearly in charge, a tall, butch Black woman with short nails and even shorter hair, jumps into the pool and introduces herself as Jean before announcing her intention to check me. I'm briefly relieved another lesbian is going to be the stranger who is digging around in my pussy then I feel her fingers enter my overstuffed hole and I can't bite back a weak moan at the intrusion. She rubs my bulge gently near my clit and makes a shushing noise. My eyes roll back in my head involuntarily at the intimate touch. I'm hurting too bad for it to be pleasurable but it gives me a tiny ounce of relief nonetheless.

Monica is staring down at me with worry on her face when Jean announces to her team that the baby is stuck on my pubic bone and the first step to getting it unstuck is to get me standing. I barely have time to protest before the 3 muscled young men taking orders from Jean are helping lift my bulk from the tub.

Even with five people supporting my weight I am unable to keep myself from falling gracelessly into a wide squat as the weight of my huge child drops down even further. My bulging pussy hits the water as I feel the unmistakable sensation of urgently crowning what must be an absolutely huge head.

I'm screaming about the fire in my crotch as Jean takes one of my meaty thighs, the biggest paramedic takes the other, and the other two support my back as I am lifted, legs spread around my crown, onto the floor beside the birthing pool.

The best case scenario, Jean tells me over my screaming sobs, is that I push it out right here and she and her team give me and baby a ride to the hospital. It looks like that might work for a few pushes but I'm fading faster than before and don't have much to give in the way of help. She briefly considers forceps but would rather get me to the hospital if my baby is still in danger of breaking my pelvis when I push him out. She reaches inside my rubber band tight lips to feel where the head had previously been stuck on a bone and noticeably pales.

She doesn't say anything out loud to alarm me or my wife but she tells her team with harsh urgency that we are transferring to the hospital immediately. I'm being moved again, still with my legs spread wide by men on either thigh, on to a bariatric stretcher and rolled out of my living room before I can even think to protest being rolled out of my front door naked, my crowned, leaking pussy bared for for all our straight, conservative neighbors to see.

I hear Jean telling Monica and our midwife that they're going to have to meet us at the hospital. Between my size and the seriousness of my potential injuries, they need all the room they can get to keep me intact until I'm able to be rushed into emergency surgery.

I don't hear whether my wife argues or not because I'm being lifted up into the ambulance. The jostling sends a sharp, warning pain through my pubic bone and I scream for them to stop moving me. Jean yells almost at the same time, glaring at her subordinates. She orders them to freeze with my feet tilted up into the ambulance and then leans down to place her palm firmly against my crown.

The counter pressure immediately eases some of the burning sensation around my lips and the ominous aching in my pelvic bones. I lay my head back and groan at feeling, for the first time since I hit transition, some of the pain lessening rather than intensifying.

I focus on how good it feels to have Jean pushing back on some of the insane pressure in my cunny while they settle me into the ambulance. A strap is placed around my straining middle and the stretcher is locked into place. One of the nameless young men starts an IV as the sirens start blaring and I feel the ambulance start to move.

Jean, still holding my crown, tells me her colleague is giving me something for the pain and that a surgical team is being assembled right now to meet the ambulance and rush me into the operating room.

"Everything's going to be just fine, Libby. You and your baby are going to be just fine as long as you don't push. No matter how bad you need to bear down, you can't. You will break your pubic bone and probably your tail bone and you really don't want to do that."

I don't. I've already started to feel the effects of the drugs and I'm still in more pain than I've ever been in my life but there is a thin, hazy distance from it now. I feel the warmth of Jean's hand around my crown and I blink up at her with what I think might be close to a flirtatious smile.

"Just don't move your hand, baby," I mumble and she clearly understands because her cheeks redden and she cracks a wide, slightly embarrased smile.

"Alright, Sappho. Glad those drugs are starting to work."

I probably wasn't going to respond because I was seconds away from passing out when suddenly the ambulance is hitting something with extreme force and my gravid body is bouncing up into the air. I see, as if in slow motion, Jean's steadying hand get ripped away from my pussy.

I'm slammed back down on to the stretcher and, inevitably, my bones shatter. When they give way my baby is ejected out to his shoulders before anyone can stop him to try to spare me even greater injury.

I'm writhing and screaming incoherently as I feel Jean gingerly pull my son out the rest of the way. I can feel his heft shifting around pieces of bone in me as he slithers out and I am acutely aware how badly I wish I could lose consciousness.

I don't. When my son leaves my body to be handed off to one of the men and my clenching cavity clamps down on nothing, I am catapulted into another stratosphere of pain. I start hyperventilating and am barely able to understand Jean as she straddles the stretcher in between my legs and starts to touch my lips.

"Libby, hold on for me, honey. I'm gonna do something and it's gonna hurt like the dickens and then it's going to feel amazing. Just keep breathing for me, sweetheart."

Why I look down right at that moment I will never know but I watch her gloved, fisted hands plunge into my pussy and my asshole at the same time. I use my last remaining strength to wail in protest as it feels like a white hot iron is being rammed through my pelvis. Then she does what can only be described as a punch with the fist in my cunt and I almost throw up with how suddenly relieved I feel because of whatever Jean's hands are doing to hold my gravely injured body together.

Don't get me wrong. I'm still in agony. But between whatever Jean's fists just did and the drugs starting to kick in even more, I'm barely able to do anything other than lay there and whimper.

When we get to the hospital the medics have just taken me down from the ambulance when Monica runs up. She takes in Jean, straddling the stretcher in between my legs and then the position of her fists in both my holes. My face is a rictus of pain and shock and I'm horrified to discover I can't talk. I'm not even able to close my mouth when I feel drool slipping down my chin.

I look up at my wife, who's being handed our 15lb baby. She walks beside my stretcher as I'm rushed in to the trauma bay. I fight with all my will to be able to muster up the strength to say one more thing to the love of my life before the drugs pull me under completely. The fact that I'm about to almost die on the table three times because I'm silently hemorrhaging into my abdomen as we speak is the only thing that comes between me and divorce later so stupid were the words I chose to say.

"Jean's hands feel so good in my ass and my pussy. God, it feels so good."

[frodothefair]

Writing unspired and unmotivated. Yes, it can be done, and it should be done (but only if you want to).

I am a firm believer that if you want to learn to do something and do it well, you have to do it a lot. And in order to do it a lot, you have to do it even if you don't want to. With writing, this means that you have to write even if you're not motivated and not inspired. In fact, I've found that motivation and inspiration are unreliable partners. They are like the weather -- poorly understood, fickle, and largely outside of any tangible control.

So what do you do? Here is what works for me, as a person who (not to toot my own horn, but yes, to toot my own horn a little) has published 5-10K chapters well-nigh every two weeks for the last two years. I may not be the best, but I'm nothing if not prolific.

Now, granted, I will check my privilege and say that I would not be able to publish on such a schedule if I wasn't blessed with 1) a 4-day workweek, 2) a very supportive spouse and 3) the absence of any condition like ADHD, which can be a major barrier to getting things done. And if being prolific or finishing WIPs or getting as good as you can is not your goal and you're just writing for fun (totally valid, by the way), feel free to ignore everything I say. After all, none of us are pros here -- except for those who are, but they'll never tell ;).

But for anyone else, here goes.

When I think about writing, I start by checking in with myself and labelling my mindset in one of three ways.

ONE. Absolutely RARING to write.

If so, nothing to be done here. Just write. Off you go, run like the wind.

TWO: Writing feels positively PAINFUL. Oh, please, please, please don't make me write. I'll sob if you put me in front of a keyboard.

Ok, then. If that is really the case, then don't write. It will only burn you out, like trying to boil an empty pot. Go do something else, something that will soothe you and fill your cup. But then, after a few hours or a day, check in with yourself again.

And then finally, THREE - everything in between. Maybe I'm feeling "meh" about writing. Maybe I'm feeling inadequate or nervous or wondering "what's the point anyway." Maybe the inspiration isn't gushing like a fountain. Maybe I'm a little lazy or a little tired.

Well, guess what? It happens. In fact, this is how I feel about writing at least half of the time.

But I do it anyway, because I find that if I do it, the words will come. And I will feel more excited.

So here's what I do.

I make sure that my environment is comfortable and positive.

I sit in my comfy writer's chair, and I make sure my space is uncluttered, and I wear comfy clothing, and I have a beverage and a snack by my side. I put my earplugs in, or, if I'm in the mood, my brown noise, which is great for concentration.

And then I vibe with my characters for a bit. I have my desktop set up in such a way that I can always see small pictures of my main characters, even with a word doc open. I may pretend that they're sitting by my side, or that I am in their shoes -- wherever I left off the last time I wrote. I may reread some of what I wrote the last time.

And then I take some deep breaths and write The Truest Sentence I Can (TM). This one is from Papa Hem -- whatever his other flaws, he gave great writing advice. Another one of my faves: “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

Now, it doesn't have to be The World's Truest Sentence, nor does it have to be perfectly true. All it needs to do is have some authenticity. Make it the trust sentence you can write in that particular moment. You can always make it better and truer later.

And then you write another. And another.

And if you get stuck, get up. Get a drink or a snack, use the bathroom, stretch, look out the window. (But don't take too long, 1-3 minutes is usually enough). By the time you come back, you may find yourself pleasantly unstuck. And if you're still stuck, repeat the process of vibing with your characters, rereading what you wrote, and writing a true sentence -- the truest sentence you can in that particular moment.

[lesbianchemicalplant]

I remember when I was on the edge of deciding, there was a little while of paralysis where I could admit "I don't enjoy being and don't really want to be a man" but was intimidated/terrified of Trying To Be A Woman because it seemed like claiming so much, and like there was too much of a gap to close between me and that

so I tried bargaining with myself about different trajectories, for a month or so. could I take a third option? not having to be a man, not having to take the plunge as a trans woman specifically? could that work?

but I couldn't make those trajectories play out right. imagining myself falling short of Being A Woman and being taken by most people as—bluntly—either Just Loudly A Faggot, or Precious Straight Man Sneakily Wearing Eyeliner To Pretend To Be Faggy And Trick Our Women Into A False Sense Of Security

in my case, being a woman was what I actually wanted, I was just intimidated and not confident I could actually do that. I basically got unstuck by going “well I'm going to get myself on HRT and just let that start doing things and hope it fixes me” which is more or less how it went*

but those kinds of statements toward camab nonbinary people, like lrb talked about, remind me of that. running the numbers on how I would be received for anything less than womanhood. they hope camab nonbinary Jakey dies

*not that it fixed everything in and of itself, but it made other parts of transitioning much less intimidating, and transitioning made it possible to fix others things I was not previously able to. whereas before I was pretty much circling the drain despite desperately wanting and needing to be functional

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello! Can I ask some advice on how to get inspiration/motivation back?

I am recently struggling a bit with this, trying to keep writing but the inspiration just decided to disappear, I can't bring myself to write more than one line.

(I love every post you make, you really are helpful your explanations are lovely ♡)

Trying to Get Inspiration/Motivation Back

I'm so happy you're enjoying the blog! I have a bunch of previous posts with tips for motivation and inspiration. Some are general, others are more geared to when you're working on a specific WIP.

It really helps if you can pinpoint whether it's an issue with yourself, such as not being in the mood to write or being distracted by other things, or if it's an issue with your story/stories... because knowing that can help you focus your efforts on that particular area. I've included links related to both below! ♥

Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write Guide: Filling Your Creative Well 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! Feeling Unmotivated with WIP Getting Excited About Your Story Again Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists Building Confidence in Your Writing Have Plot, Can’t Write

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[porcupine-girl]

There is a lesson in here somewhere

IDK, not quite about killing your darlings since this wasn't really darling but about when you're stuck, letting go of what you've got planned or already wrote to get unstuck.

I'm trying desperately to finish this WIP I started back in 2018 for the WIP Big Bang. Fighting with my writing brain the whole way.

I was very very stuck on an early scene. I knew exactly what was supposed to happen, down to what position they were going to have sex in. Scene has been in my brain for several years. Couldn't write it. Maybe because I've been writing less smut than I did back then, and smut was always the hardest thing for me to write? But also maybe because I'll never be back in whatever very specific headspace I was in when I started this scene and so making it go the way I thought it was supposed to go is going to be smashing a round peg into a square hole no matter what.

I had to have such an argument with myself to finally get to what in hindsight is the logical solution!

Me: They could have sex differently. Maybe instead of rushing madly into it they take their time.

*tries that*

*still stuck*

Me2: Maybe... they don't have to have sex? Me: They've already fucked twice, despite this being their first actual date, it seems likely they'd do it again. Me2: Sure, but what if they didn't? Me: But Bitty has to spend the night, it's important to the plot and characters for multiple reasons. Me2: Yes, but he could spend the night and they just... don't have sex. Me: I think you're just trying to worm your way out of writing the smut you're stuck on. Me2: Yeah so? Me: They're so horny for each other, though, that's been established. Me2: Yeah, but what if they don't have sex this time. Me: ...

Lo and behold, when I finally convinced myself to think about how the scene might go if they don't have sex, it worked immediately. I knew exactly what conversation this would lead to, which could reinforce things they said earlier, and how to transition to Bitty spending the night anyhow. I sat down today and easily wrote nearly 1000 words and finished the scene.

Now, the lesson here might be something about not forcing myself to write smut just because there are already explicit scenes in this fic, when my brain doesn't want to, but I think the bigger lesson is if I want to finish this damn thing that might mean throwing out bits of my outline and accepting it going a different way.

[monstersflashlight]

Okay this is a bit of a story lol

My dumbest purchase ever.

Amazon binder.

So be me, 2020, freshly discovering I'm a trans man and wanting a binder. But I'm not out to anyone (I tried to come out and I explained it wrong I think. We're cool now).

I go on Amazon and search "binder for trans men".

Do not go on Amazon and search "binder for trans men".

Amazon binders are usually knock offs or unsafe in general.

My second mistake?

I didn't measure myself. I just went in the chart and thought "well I'm small so I'll get a small". Do not do this.

Then, when it arrived WAY TOO SMALL, like the size of a small child small. I tried to put it on. DO NOT TRY TO PUT IT ON IF IT'S TOO SMALL. I legit got my arms stuck over my head for like five minutes in the bathroom, tits out and family was eating dinner in the other room wondering why it was taking me so long to pee. I cried fr. If I had tried that now I wouldn't be able to get unstuck. I still have the binder because I've been too ashamed to do anything with it LOL, it's just in my luggage somewhere gathering dust.

Okay but legit if someone wants to buy a binder, look at some reputable sources and always measure yourself. If it arrives small, send it back or donate it or resell it, don't put it on and "deal with it". Don't wear it for more than 8 hours at a time, don't wear it if it hurts badly.

Omg dude that sounds awful! I'm so sorry you had to live thru that. Hope you got a good size one at some point.

[lady-of-ithilien]

Hello! For the writing asks, 13 and 73 if you’d like? Loving your wip. ❤️

Yay thank you so much for the questions (& for the WIP love)! Sorry for the slower reply, I was in the wilderness the last few days and didn't have reliable signal. I am catching up on messages now :) For the fanfic ask game:

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you:

Honestly, writing my current WIP has got to be it for me. I had wanted to write a long Farawyn fic for so, so many years (I recently found a to-do list for winter break in 2012 and it was on there lol!) but I never really got very far. Indeed, that was true with most writing projects for me from adolescence until recently. I've been writing fic and original fiction for a long time, but I would always follow the same progression: get really excited about an idea, plan it out, start writing, and then lose steam before I could stick the landing. I simply lacked the executive functioning and focus regulation to follow through. My first big turning point with writing came in 2022, when I wrote about 40k words of an original novel. In the end, the idea wasn't very good and the political system probably borrowed more from The Witcher than it ought to have; yet, that experience showed me that I was actually capable of writing something long and creating a story that I cared about. I learned a lot about myself as a writer from that project, and I've been able to build upon those habits to come up with a writing routine that allows me to be successful at seeing my ideas through.

That brings me to this current WIP, which I actually worked up the courage to share publicly (compared to most other of my works, which shall lurk forever in the shadows of my google drive). I've mentioned this in passing, but I've been truly overwhelmed in the best way by the kindness and support of the Tolkien fanfic community. The way y'all have encouraged me, left nice comments, and engaged with such genuine goodwill with my story has been fulfilling to a degree that is almost hard to describe. It's also really helped me keep going through periods of lower bandwidth and writers block. I've been going through a hard time lately professionally, and being able to develop myself as a writer, share a story about a pairing that is so personal and meaningful to me, and then actually get such generous encouragement has truly saved me this year <3 I never could have imagined how positive this would feel, so to say I'm pleasantly surprised is a vast understatement. 73. how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

Oooh good question! I think it is a mix of both. When I am struggling to write, I try to imagine a movie in my head, as that often helps get me unstuck; I try to describe what I'm visualizing, and usually that helps get things moving again. Yet, I think my best writing comes when I reach a sort of flow state, and the words just come without much effort spent on visualizing the scene. Thank you again for the ask! This was very fun to answer :)

[gonzogodzilla]

it's really hard to be on the internet these days bc I see everyone living their lives & it's just a reminder of all the things I can't do anymore. if not bc my body is a piece of shit then bc I am so financially screwed forever even if my disability is approved.

I'm trying very hard to just live each day as it comes & not think about the future but my god I just can't get unstuck from this. I don't want to be forever jealous of people just for having "normal" lives. I don't want to get frustrated & envious seeing chronic illness bloggers who can do so much more in a day than me, or who clearly have so much more money to do things. it sucks. but I don't know how to let it go.

I never had big dreams. I think that's the part that really hurts. my dreams were so realistic & attainable, I didn't have a giant bucket list of travelling the world or even owning a home. I just wanted a simple place to live that I could afford without worrying about money too much, where I could display my treasures & hang out with my cat. my idea of adventure is the big antique mall that's only open Sundays in the summer.

maybe I need to push myself more. I don't know. I'm just really really tired of feeling like I fucked up my life & now my body is too broken to ever fix it.

[beguilingcorpse]

i'm trying to double down on finishing my damn novel this year but like. i am SO stuck. like i'm so stuck that i don't even know how to get unstuck. i don't want to give up on this because i do love the concept + the potential for sequels. but like. how do i convince myself to keep going

[hexpea]

Ch. 9 - Ignorant

As the afternoon droned on, Seiko managed to fall asleep. Their head fell back on the sofa and light snores escaped their throat as their mouth fell agape. You sighed to yourself, glad that they had found a moment of peace in whatever turmoil they were facing, at least you hoped. You took a moment to pull the blanket you shared up further onto them to keep them warm.

Just as you were about to settle back into the movie, your phone buzzed with a text message. You carefully reached for it, trying not to wake Seiko from their deep slumber. The text was from Ieiri.

Y/N! How dare you not tell me you were back in town? You chuckled at her scolding as you read her message. I had to find out from that blindfolded idiot!

You didn't hesitate to text her back. Sorry, Shoko, it was for personal stuff. I'm still in town for a while if you want to meet up.

Unacceptable. She wrote back. We're getting together tonight, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I'll make sure everyone's there. She was clearly referencing going drinking, something that you used to do separately from Gojo in the early days of your marriage. You and Ieiri both enjoyed the atmosphere, mostly people watching -- maybe some dancing. It was the only time you saw her usually calm and cool self evaporate into someone completely new.

"Hey, Seiko..." you gently shook Seiko awake. Their eyes groggily unstuck themselves, "I just got a message from Shoko. She's an old friend," you filled in the gaps, "she wants me to go out with our old classmates tonight. What do you think?"

Seiko's eyes continued to blink in order to adjust, quickly rubbing them so that they'd adjust quicker. "Clubbing, huh? Sounds like fun," they answered, their voice still sleepy, "you should go, Y/N. I'll be fine here."

You bit your bottom lip out of excitement. "Are you sure? I don't want to leave you alone," you invited.

Seiko gave a reassuring smile. "I'll be more than fine. I've got some ideas for myself already. You go enjoy your night."

You flattened your expression out of a bit of concern. With the subtle changes happening within Seiko, what could they be up to? Ignorantly, you decided to trust them in favor of going out with Shoko and the rest of your old classmates. You felt that you owed Seiko some blind trust after what had conspired the night before, even against your best interest. With a mixture of excitement and a hint of reluctance, you texted Shoko that you'd join them for a night of partying.

You eagerly got ready for your night while Seiko remained on the sofa, flicking through channels with a somber look on their face. You tried your best to keep them from your mind, knowing they'd come to you with whatever was bothering them at the right time...hopefully. You stayed focused on getting dolled up, missing Ieiri and the others dearly. You were happy to have a night of relief after all of the stress.

Since you mostly stayed behind and didn't really go on any missions during your time at the school, you spent a majority of your time with Ieiri and enjoyed spending time with the other classmates in general -- Nanami and Ijichi. Geto and Haibara were honorable mentions. Unfortunately, Haibara had passed away during your third year and Geto, you had no idea what had become of him since he became a curse user those years ago.

After a while, your Uber had arrived and you went to head out, making sure to give Seiko the name of the club you were going to just in case something were to happen. You didn't know where the night could lead you, especially considering the night before. You wanted to be a little footloose so getting a ride and letting Seiko know where you were going was a good way to cover your ass.

You nearly jumped out of the car as soon as it pulled over to your destination. The club looked active, people coming and going with large, drunken smiles on their faces. A few people were smoking just outside the door and others were making out in the nearby alleyway. You could already hear the music blaring through the open doorway as you made your way past the bouncer. Needless to say, you were excited!

The bass thumped through the club's dance floor as colorful lights danced overhead. Your heart raced as you looked around for your friends. Ieiri, Nanami, and Ijichi were all there, not to mention that stupid, familiar crop of white hair. He wasn't supposed to be there. You thought you had seen the last of him, but there he was, schmoozing with a clearly irritated Nanami as he sipped on some whiskey at the bar. Ieiri wasn't too far off, all smiles while dancing with a stranger and a lit cigarette dangling from her lips. Ijichi was with Nanami, quietly drinking a cocktail of his own and minding his own business.

"Hi!" You shouted over the music with a big smile to Ieiri while walking toward the bar. She greeted you back and happily followed you to the bar where you ordered a drink, body still moving to the music even as you walked. You needed it in order to get through the night if Gojo was going to be there.

"Long time, no see!" Ieiri smiled, speaking loudly over the music. She gave you a small hug, using just one arm to do so as the bartender placed your drink in front of you. She smelled of smoke and alcohol. "How have you been, Y/N?!"

You wasted no time in sucking down the drink in front of you and ordering a second before even answering Ieiri's question. The bubbly liquid burned on its way down, immediately warming your stomach with its intoxicating juices. "Wonderful!" You answered loudly and rolled your eyes, a heavy hint of sarcasm in your voice.

"That's good to hear!" She replied, not getting it. It was clear that she was already very drunk, sarcasm was something that could easily slip right by her in such a state. She was certainly in rare form, you loved this version of Ieiri and couldn't blame her.

"What's Satoru doing here? I thought it'd just be us," you asked her, cutting right to the chase and leaning a bit closer to her ear so you wouldn't have to shout so much.

As you asked, she glanced over at him. He was grinning and still talking Nanami's ear off. Based on his demeanor, you could tell he chose to stay sober this night. Your dinner was obviously a one-off situation for him drinking-wise. "I didn't tell him you were coming," she replied, "totally forgot to mention it. I just mentioned we were going out and he invited himself!" She laughed, snorting at her mistake. You rolled your eyes as she left your side to continue dancing.

After your second drink, you went and joined her on the dance floor. You happily swayed and jumped to the music that nearly vibrated through your skull with volume, schmoozing with strangers as the alcohol made you much more loose and talkative. Your face had even begun to hurt with the permanently wide smile plastered on your drunkenly red expression. 

When you'd had enough of the dancing and were ready for another drink, you meandered back to the bar to order. Your heart rate was sky-high with adrenaline, happy hormones flowed through your veins. There was no place you'd rather be.

Nanami was next to you, finishing the last of his drink. Gojo had finally left him alone to dance with Shoko. The two of you hadn't yet spoke a word to one another. Nanami ordered another drink with you as you began to make light conversation. From your school days, if you weren't with Ieiri you enjoyed time with him -- a sweet but stoic man who took everything way too seriously. You appreciated that about him, he was someone you could trust without question.

"I thought you'd quit!" You smiled at him as he held a flat expression despite the whiskey. You were asking about his choice to return to sorcery. "What brought you back to us?" You phrased the question as if you hadn't left the life behind either.

Nanami used his head to motion behind him where Gojo was dancing. He was spinning Ieiri as the two held the biggest of smiles, truly carefree. "I did quit, but he still won't leave me alone," Nanami answered, speaking loudly and sitting up in order to get closer to your ear. 

"Oh!" You nodded as he pulled away. You almost didn't even need his answer, Gojo was the obvious answer.

He was about to continue your conversation, his eyes had briefly flickered to your engagement ring. The whole community knew about your divorce filing dilemma, word traveling quickly by word of mouth. He had opened his mouth to ask when the devil himself had suddenly come to steal you away.

You felt as Gojo's arm slinked around your waist to slightly turn your body toward him, his own slightly pressed to yours. Nanami watched with an irritated expression. Despite being sober, he clearly had no restraint with his enjoyment in teasing you. He was using your inebriation to his advantage, though he knew it'd be fruitless -- he just like to get you riled up.

"Y/N!" He greeted you with a wide grin, expression bright despite the black blindfold. "Baby!" He chuckled and leaned forward to kiss your cheek.

You leaned away from him and placed your left hand gently on his chest, turning your cheek. He still managed to press a lingering peck, your face immediately turning even more red than it was already. "Satoru," you scolded as his lips were pressed to your cheek, "we're not doing this here." You couldn't help but laugh, the alcohol messing with your inhibitions yet again.

"Oh come on," he pouted sarcastically with a crooked grin, "you can't blame me for trying. You're irresistible, you know." He leaned toward your hear, hiding his face from Nanami, and whispered in your ear.

You rolled your eyes, though a small part of you couldn't help but smile at his persistence. "Smooth, as always."

Ieiri, who was now sitting on the other side of you, chimed in. "What happened with the divorce, you two? Clearly you're getting close now, that's for sure." She couldn't help but ask, asking exactly what Nanami wanted to know.

You were about to answer when Gojo quickly piped up to answer for you. "Don't worry!" He smiled, speaking over the music as Nanami and Ieiri both looked toward you with intrigue. "I signed them, you just have to file them, right, Y/N?" You felt his grip on your waist slightly tighten with interest, your heart raced even harder as memories of the night prior flooded your mind. Temptation was setting in yet again. The usual restraint you had was being heavily tested and for some odd reason, you found yourself failing.

"Ye-" you were about to confirm, surprised that he had told the truth despite his lascivious hold on you. 

"But don't worry, we're still the best of friends," he tauntingly leaned toward you once more, interrupting your answer. 

Nanami narrowed his vision at the two of you in suspicion. He hadn't yet heard about your new engagement, so he had automatically assumed the ring on your finger was your original. To him, something was still going on but the ring on your finger was definitely not the one from Gojo.

Ieiri raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Best friends, huh? That's one way to put it."

Nanami, who had been quietly observing the situation, couldn't hide his disapproval. He took a swig of the new drink in front of him. "Judging by the ring on her finger then," it now clicking for him, "you shouldn't be touching her like that."

Nanami's statement only triggered Gojo even more, a cocky grin sliding across his face as he gently grabbed your wrist from the hand that was on his chest. Your eyes widened in disbelief as he suddenly began pulling the ring from your finger, putting it in his pocket before placing your hand back to where it was.

"There," Gojo smirked, "problem solved. Happy, Nanamin?"

Nanami scowled at Gojo something fierce before looking toward you with an expression that read 'do you want me to do something about him?' You gave a weak smile as if to signal it was alright, the heat still very present in your face.

He sighed, realizing there was no point in further pursuing the issue. "I see you two have your own way of handling things," he muttered, a hint of exasperation in his voice as he took another sip.

Ieiri couldn't help but laugh at the exchange between you. "Well, this is certainly a lively reunion," she noted, enjoying the drama.

Gojo decided to ease the tension with a lighthearted remark. "Nanami's always been the overprotective type," he chuckled and looked back toward you, his face too close for comfort as he grinned.

Nanami rolled his eyes. "You're the one who tends to attract trouble."

[ezziefox]

The Reason Why I Can't Move On in Writing + more depressing thoughts

I think I just realized why it's so hard for me to surpass three or four chapters max when I begin to write my new books, or why I always find myself taking a break and taking forever to get back to it, and when I do, the momentum that might've never been there in the first place is lost and I don't know where to pick back up in my WIP.

I recently became more and more aware of how much time I spend on social media. But that's not the big issue I'm talking about here. It's my attention span and my anxiety.

Addressing the Anxiety

There are a lot of things in my life that I get anxiety about, and it largely comes into play whenever I'm writing in my free time. As I still attend high school, I don't get much free time, but even in my free time I fret about how much time I have. Because when I write, I love to get lost in it, listening to my music and all. But, as a person who has a strong hatred for my school especially and nothing can ever fix that hatred (the pandemic ruined everything for me in that regards), every time I open Word or some other app to begin my writing, instead of thinking about getting lost in my work and getting in the moment and writing seamlessly like I did when I first discovered Wattpad back in the summer of 2020, I instead focus on how much time I have to write what I want to.

And because of this constant timer and thought in the back of my head, instead of getting lost in what I love to do, I am instead constantly fearful and anxious of my time running out before I have to go to bed to return to the very place that depresses and maddens me to my core. And I have nothing nor no one to blame but my own mental health. But I still can never find myself liking school to at least make myself feel better. I wish I could attend a different school, even in a different country. I really wish I could have a restart so that I can have an open mind and freeer mind to continue doing what I love.

And in times when I get endless time like I've never before like summer, that idea of endless time and "soon I'll be able to do what I want to do with no push or setbacks" quickly dries up and goes out the door. Especially when my trip is close to ending, all I can ever really think about is how much time I have left. I'd rather spend it procrastinating and "having fun" whilst still realizing that it will come to an end, rather than get lost in my writing and when I shut the computer and look up, it's time for all fun to end — the free paper is burned.

I genuinely don't know how I'm going to get through this part without a complete mind reset and change of environment. As it goes for the mind reset part, my mind will never change. Not without a significant change in my life. And I hate that. But my mind refuses to be unstuck from the place it is in now.

As for...

Addressing My Short Attention Span

Because of the aforementioned anxiety with time I addressed, I've begun to consume my media (entertainment & procrastination) in short form so that it feels like I've gotten in so much fun in such a short time that I feel satisfied. How to explain this in simpler terms?.... Well.... I'm constantly fearful and anxious of my free time ending that I convince myself it's been longer than it's truly been by watching short-form content such as YT shorts, Instagram reels, and when I watch actual full-length videos, instead of watching completely through the video, I simply listen to it for a short while, and to get the gist of it and thoughts on it, I read through the comments while watching as little of it as I need to before I quickly lose interest and go find a different video to watch.

Tonight, as I write this to save it as a draft to post tomorrow, I've been trying to fix my attention span by sitting through some of the old content I used to watch, that being documentary-type videos. It's been going well so far. I've sat through all the videos and seldom went to the comment section. I didn't skip through any of them or anything like that. However, I did stop in the middle of one video to come and write this right now. I knew I could've waited until tomorrow, but I feared I wouldn't have been able too convey the emotions of realization that I am feeling right now as well and explain it as well as I am feeling it.

——

I'm hoping that this truly is my issue, and that once I fix my attention span, I can at least get through writing more chapters, no matter how long it takes. I'm fully aware that especially once school starts back, so will the anxiety leeching itself onto me. But anything is better than nothing, right?

Sigh.

If you're just like me, or something like it, my advice to address and sort out your attention span. And if it's within your reach and capability, your anxiety too. It's these things that hold us back from accomplishing anything in life, and writing is something we wish to accomplish, so if you can, find a way to conquer them. Do what I currently can't.

All of this deeply saddens me. I don't know where to go next, if I even want to move, or what will find its way to me next. Needless to say, I don't have much hopes for the future, but at the same time I do.

I like to tell myself I always give up, and then I realize that I never truly do and it's always f*cking with me. Sometimes I wish I would just give up, because no matter how much I want things or desperately hope that some miracle will grant certain things in my life, I always end up f-cking myself over in the end. I am mentally f-cked and tired. No matter how many breaks I get, it never seems to be enough for me.

And I always want more. I get told I already have everything. It's just so much going on in my life from family, to friends, to my own mind that just constantly fucks me over and disregards me in every way. I don't want to drop any personal information regarding the people around me, so that's all I'm gonna say about that.

You know, today I realized that it's one thing: being a kid and never truly realizing how much something or someone in your life is mentally f-cking you over, versus growing older and you're only a teen and you realize it in real time as it's happening. Earlier I wished that I could just be the former: be a kid that doesn't realize the mental gravity and toll that's being taken on me as I have no one but my cousin in my life that truly understands me and went through the same experiences as me and it's mentally f_cked her too.

[howi99]

Project A.R.C chapter 5

Jaune: Stuck on a tree … That was close and could have impaled me, Pyrrha.

Pyrrha: I'm sorry! I just saw you didn't seem to be controlling your landing and i thou-

Jaune: No no, it did help me. I wouldn't have died or even hurt myself but my aura would have taken a hit. So, i thank you but do not do that again.

Pyrrha: Y-yes… Also, will you be able to get out of the tree? Or should i unstuck you?

Jaune: I'm taking my time to see for any commotion ahead. That and i see two places where the relics could be.

Pyrrha: I saw a cavern south from here. We could always take a look inside?

Jaune: Good idea. Try to unstuck himself … Pyrrha, i need assistance. My arms are not in the best angles.

[femmefatalevibe]

Hey love! I'm 23 and feel so lost in life. It feels like I'm stuck in a place. Recently I've been having this strong inner urge to change something about myself... Like I just want to change myself physically idk how. Im working out and stuff but I feel I am still the same, no change. How do I tackle this inner urge to change? Also I have adhd and severe anxiety so even a little change scares me the most but at the same time I want to change!? Please guide. Thank you 🙏 ♥

Hi love! I recommend the following exercise/practice to help you set your goals/create an action plan that doesn't feel too intimidating, so you can gain momentum and get "unstuck":

List out your 1-3 main goals and reasons why you want to achieve them (these can be as deep or superficial as necessary to strike a chord with you. Whatever reason feels genuine and most truthful to the point where you feel your emotions staring back at you when writing it out on the page/document).

After listing out these main goals, for your physical appearance, I would try to categorize your action items into 4 buckets: nutrition, exercise, self-care/wellness, and personal style

Then, write out all of the changes you want to make in each of these areas to become your "ideal self." Get specific here – instead of saying "I want to work out more," write out how many workouts you want to do, what type (cardio, weights, pilates, etc.) for how long, and how many times per week you want to do these work outs

Next, get creative and have some fun listing out all of the ideas/workout videos/recipes/self-care ideas and activities, etc. you could do to fill in these "gaps" in your goal schedule for the week

Once you have several ideas for each goal, plug them into your days (e.g. I'll do this 15-minute YouTube workout on Tuesday, take this 1-hour long walk through the park on Thursday, make this cool healthy dinner on Friday, do a full-body exfoliation and moisturizing routine on Sunday, etc.)

Start slow and only incorporate one small change per day – maybe only 2-3 times a week for the first week or two. Consistency, not frequency, will ultimately help you win the race

Keep it short, creative, varied, and low-stakes are essential to task completion and goal-setting, IMO, if you have any type of anxiety/ADHD.

Hope this helps xx