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words-with-wren · 25 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr Day Nine: Mind Control

Fandom: Doctor Who (Second Doctor era) Jamie and music is something I want to explore more and this is NOT that but. its a bit of that.

Word count: 2,361

There was music in his mind.

It was a haunting echo, the sound of pipes blaring over the moor, the sound of home. Filling his mind, reminding him of his childhood, reminding him of standing on a windswept hill, lungs filled with air as he gripped the bag of his pipes in his arms.

There was music in his mind.

It filled his thoughts, blocking out everything except the sound of the music. He wouldn’t be able to say what the tune was, or replicate it himself, but he knew he was music and he knew it was all he ever wanted to listen to. Nothing else really mattered, beyond the music in his mind.

Dimly, he was aware he was standing in a large, jagged cave. It was lit only by glowing stones, purple and blue light bathing the whole cavern in a strange aura. A small lake filled one side of the cave, the water reflecting purple and blue, more glowing stones under its surface.

But the music made it all seem dull and lifeless, unimportant. All that mattered were the sounds in his mind, the songs that reminded him of home and hearth.

There were also two people in the cavern with him. One of them was sitting on a rock, a short little man with his legs crossed, holding a small, straight blue and white stripped tube in one hand. The other was a small girl, crouched at the edge of the rippling water.

They were unimportant, for now. Not while he was listening to the music, the music that filled him completely and wiped away everything that hurt and pained him. Nothing mattered except the music.

Then the girl stepped into the water, and the music in his mind shifted. A keening call, a shout for war, a war cry echoing over the moors. He started, sharp pain flashing through his mind. She was not allowed in the water.

She stepped further in, clearly intending to fully submerge herself. The small man called something to her, but the music drowned out everything he might have said. She paused, and responded over her shoulder.

The music roared again and spurred him into action. She was not allowed to go into the water. She was not to come close to the source.

He stepped forward, not hesitating to march into the water, music drowning out every other sound. He grabbed the girl by her collar and hauled her back--and this time her yelp of surprise broke through the music. That irritated him more--how dare she try to reach the source and then break through the music that was everything? That would not do.

It didn’t take much to life her, pulled her fully out of the water, and fling her back into the shore. She skidded, rolling instinctively onto her side and came to a rest near where the small man was sitting.

The man leapt to his feet, his mouth shaping the sounds of a name. He knew that name. Jamie. That was his name.

But it didn’t break through the music and that was satisfying enough. He stood in the shallows of the water and closed his eyes, feeling the water wash over his bare legs, hearing the music fill his very soul. This was all he needed.

Jamie.

The name came again, this time breaking through the songs of his home. He had been called Jamie there, and he was still called Jamie.

Why couldn’t he remember their names?

The thought caused him to open his eyes again, and he saw the little man crouching beside the girl, both of them looking back at him. For a moment, the music seemed to quiet in his mind.

He should know them. Why didn’t he know them?

He was scared, he realised. His heart was beating fast, faster than the tempo of the song. He was scared, and he didn’t know why. They couldn’t hurt him--they were an old man and a wee girl.

The music increased in volume and he shuddered momentarily, before it washed completely over him and filled his mind again. Pipes on the horizon. Voices raised in song. The sounds of home. He relaxed, feeling the fear drain from his body.

The man was standing now, the girl still half lying on the ground, propped up on a rock. Her hand was pressed to the back of her head and… was she bleeding?

The music seemed to falter. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, he just needed her to know she wasn’t to go into the water. Wasn’t to go near the source. It wasn’t his fault she was hurt, he decided. She had chosen to go into the water.

The little man was talking. Not enough to break through the music of course, nothing could do that. But it was fascinating to watch him talk, nonetheless. He was animated, stepping forward steadily, clearly trying to appeal to him about something.

Something unimportant. Something that couldn’t match with the song in his mind.

Then the man stepped into the water and the music roared a battle cry. He didn’t hesitate, stepping forward to shove the man. He stumbled back easily enough, out of the water and the music sung another song.

Then the battlecry screamed again, frantic and desperate and he turned, seeing the girl diving under water. What was she doing?

He hurried after her, music screaming in his mind. That was too far--she was an enemy. He hadn’t meant to hurt her the first time, but they had both crossed a line now. The music was a battlecry, a war song, a dirge for blood.

He grabbed her by the hair and hauled her back, pulling her to the surface. She gasped, kicking at him and grabbing his hand but he was far stronger than her. Methodically, hearing the swelling of the music, he shoved her face under the water.

If she wanted to be near the source so badly, she could stay there.

He could feel her struggling against him, beating his arm, kicking at his legs. But it was merely an added beat to the song in his mind. A single annoyance, inconsistency, a--

A shrill, screeching noise shattered through his mind and he stumbled back, pressing his hands to his head. The music was interrupted just for a moment and Jamie gasped, head instantly splitting.

For a moment, all he could hear was that shrill whistle, piecing through the music. Then the music raised in tempo and noise, pounding at his head. Jamie dropped to a knee, water up to his chest, hands pressed to his head.

He couldn’t think. It was just noise. Noise noise noise. The music sang, the whistle shrieked at him again.

“Jamie,” someone was calling his name. He looked up, eyes blurred with tears of pain. Zoe was floating in the water, the Doctor was running through the water towards her, recorder to his lips.

That was wrong. The music beat the war drums again, and Jamie tried to raise himself to his feet, but the Doctor blew hard into his recorder and Jamie had to drop to his knees again.

He gasped, breathing, hands pressed to the sides of his heads. The music was sounding less and less like home and more like something evil.

“No,” he whispered as it sang at him again, roared soothing lies. “I wilnae listen to you.”

He staggered to his feet, only winching as the Doctor blew into his recorder again. He had reached Zoe, turned her onto her back, and was dragged her out, watching Jamie warily.

“Fight it Jamie,” he called.

Zoe was on her back, motionless in the water. Jamie found himself rooted to the spot, remembering the feeling of her hair in his hands, of how easy it had been to hold her under the water.

The music sang again, a soft, soothing tune this time. A melody that told him everything was okay, he could just relax into it and forget the horror of what he had done to his friends.

“Doctor!” he called, frantic, eyes wild. He could not let it take hold again, he’d prefer the headache to that emotionless detachment. He hadn’t even recognised her.

The Doctor blew into his recorder again and Jamie cried out, stumbling a few places towards the shore, curling his hands into his hair. He was fully crying, whether out of pain or fear or guilt he wasn’t sure.

The Doctor had pulled Zoe to the shore now, and was gently patting her face, continually glancing up to look at Jamie. He couldn't bring himself to move yet, still drawn by the haunting peacefulness the song promised him.

For a moment, he considered diving into the water behind him. He could find the source, become one with it. Listen to that music always.

“Jamie, listen to me,” the Doctor’s voice broke through, faint at first, almost drowned out by the music. “You can fight this, you understand. Fight it!”

He was crouched over Zoe, hands on her chest and pumping up and down as he stared across the water at Jamie. She was so still. Her hands had done nothing as she fought against his grip.

“Doctor,” he called again, stepping forward. He didn’t miss the way the Doctor’s eyes darted to where his recorder was lying beside Zoe. “I dunnae mean-”

The music flared up again, and for a moment, he was standing on a hill in Scotland. The sky was clouded and grey, mist flowing around the moor, casting the whole scene in a strange light. But he was standing along side his clansmen, a part of them.

He lifted his pipes to his lips and drew in a deep breath, preparing to breath out again and fill the misty moors with the call to battle. For to battle he would go--he could already hear the other pipers blaring out their songs and in a moment, he would join them.

No.

No no no.

Zoe’s head under his hands. Water on his knees. The Doctor’s frantic face.

Zoe laughing as she teased him. The Doctor making a bad joke. Victoria’s smile. Ben slapping him on the shoulder with a friendly laugh. Polly grabbing him by the hand.

No.

He would not let it win.

He stumbled forward, dragging himself out of the water and collapsing onto the dry stone. It was coarse and rough, sharp stones digging into his knees and shoulders as he lay on the ground.

Zoe was coughing violently nearby.

The music was gone.

He pushed himself to shaky hands and knees, breathing deeply, not having the strength to push himself up fully. His head was splitting with pain and he shut his eyes against it, for now just trying to breathe.

“Jamie?”

A hand touched his shoulder and he shuddered a gasp, turning his head to see the Doctor standing over him.

“Aye?” he said roughly, feeling utterly worn out. Then he pushed himself to his knees, head spinning. “Zoe?”

“She’s alright,” the Doctor said. Jamie turned his head fully to see her sitting up, knees tucked into her chest. She offered him a shaky smile. “Are you?”

“Aye. I - it’s gone now.” His head felt empty, empty and large, like an entire planet could fit inside. “Zoe I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “I’m alright.”

“You nearly weren’t,” Jamie said softly. He leaned back, pressing a hand to his head.

“I think we had best get away from here,” the Doctor said. Jamie nodded quickly, then regretted it immediately as his head spun violently.

He was a little unsteady and needed the Doctor’s help to scramble to his feet. Then he refused to move until he was sure Zoe really was alright. She seemed to be more alright than he was.

They reached the TARDIS easily enough, tucked away in a corner of the cavern, and Jamie felt himself relax fully as he entered the familiar white room. The background hum of the ship drove out the last of his fears of the music returning.

He sank to sit against the wall of the TARDIS as the Doctor began bustling around the console. Zoe came to sit beside him, still wet, still looking very pale.

“Are ye sure you’re alright?” Jamie asked. She nodded, then placed a hand on his arm.

“I really am, Jamie,” she said. “But don’t ever do that again.”

“I don’t intend to.” He leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling of the TARDIS.

“I heard it as well,” Zoe admitted. “Some kind of music… in my mind. I thought it was from the water. That’s why I wanted to take some readings.”

“Aye, the source was underwater,” Jamie confirmed, looking back at her. “I dunnae what it was. Just that it didn’t want you in the water.”

Zoe shuddered, lifting her hand off Jamie’s arm to wipe wet hair out of her face.

“Why didn’t it effect me?” she asked.

“Jamie’s much more in tune with music,” the Doctor explained. “I imagine it wasn’t seen as much value for your schooling?” When Zoe shook her head in confirmation, the Doctor nodded in satisfaction. “Jamie’s training as a piper means music is an important part of him--and I imagine it reminded him of home?” “Aye,” Jamie confirmed. “I heard the pipes.” His voice was wistful as he spoke, remembering home. He didn’t think about it often, not while there was so much else to do and see and experience in his travels. But when he did, it was with a bittersweet ache. He loved his home, loved his people, loved his country. He had fought for it and would die for it and sometimes it felt like a betrayal to have abandoned his home.

But he wouldn’t give up traveling with the Doctor for anything.

“Well, it’s a very good thing I brought my recorder along today,” the Doctor said, an impish grin on his face. Jamie groaned and leaned his head back again, shutting his eyes and Zoe laughed.

This was going to make him so insufferable.

#wren writes #doctor who #classic doctor who #second doctor #jamie mccrimmon #zoe heriot #chrumblr whumblr challenge #mind control #*I* am not a musical person #so writing it isn't the easiest #but Jamie being SUPER musical is such a dear headcanon to me #i think he would love learning about future music #i think he would be absolutely fascinated by alien music #I think he would collect alien instruments even if he didn't know how to play them #I think music is so so important to him and i thats a headcanon hill i'll die on

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mishkakagehishka · 4 months

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I may have spent all my life until this moment wasting both mine and God's time, but from tomorrow on, for sure, i swear it, i will change my ways and be better. And it'll be different from all the other times i said the same thing🧎‍♀️

#i'm getting up at 6 i'll be at college by 8 i'll catch a nice place away from the sun in the library and i'll do so much work #until my classes start and then after the classes end i'm going back to the library i'm gonna set up camp there bc this is obviously not th #way for me. but you know what bothers me now? the fact that the college cafeteria isn't open on the weekends.#you know how productive of a weekend i could have if i could camp in the library 8-12 then eat a quick lunch and go back 13-whenever?#anyway. i changed my surroundings got mood lighting and warm blankets and shukufuku no library on loop #idk what to write for the introduction so i'm gonna write my arguments first and then expand on them #if i can't get myself to do things the right way then i'll do it however is easiest for me and figure out how to make it seem like i did it #the right way. but from tomorrow on i SWEAR #and if i finish my essay sooner than expected (inşallah) ???#i'm writing. the bigbang until i reach the minimum and not a word more until i'm done with finals #and THEN i'm writing what i want to write. because i'm full of ideas to the point that i feel like bleeding over sheets of paper

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aparticularbandit · 5 months

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me realizing while writing this that actually none of these characters really care about anybody dying in specific.

i mean. hina cares about sakura dying. that was a pretty big deal to her. and kyoko cares about fic spoilery things.

but like.

they cared that people in general died. they cared that they were stuck in a murder game. but they weren't really friends with people. none of these people were really friends. (kyoko and makoto, sure. hina and sakura, also sure. taka and mondo, sure.)

but like. nobody cares.

#musings #bandit writes fic #bandit liveblogs danganronpa #(mostly because i want this in that tag even though technically this isn't liveblogging)#dr1 end rewrite fic #like #this is starkly different from dr2 #where everyone cared about the first death #the second murder /and the death of the second murderer/ were VERY impactful #everything with nekomaru #mikan tried to heal everybody who was sick!#(...even DESPAIR mikan kept nagito from dying!#honestly he would have been the easiest person for her to kill)#LIKE I JUST #dr1 characters are so SELFISH #(dr1 is still a fantastic game! just. man the dr2 characters)

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vi-enti · 10 months

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i have been stuck in a cycle of rereading ur postgame fic over and over and over ever since it's release it's SO good........ i understand if u r writing up more to it and so don't want to disclose but i am dying to know more abt ur takes on both postgame as a whole and what's going on with each of the survivors..... if u wouldn't mind sharing, ofc :3

!!!! thank you so much, i'm so happy you enjoyed it. i do want to keep some stuff secret (partially bc i'm still fleshing out ideas myself) but i can share some stuff about the survivors!

hajime: so i'm not the biggest fan of hajime and izuru being separate personalities, but i do like them being perceived as such. hajime and izuru are one and the same, but the person he was as izuru and the person he was even before then are perceived as different to the others, they'll keep make excuses for him and claiming that wasn't him, but he has to learn to accept that he was the person who did those things, that there isn't a separate entity in his brain to blame. a lot of his journey is going to be about discovering the type of person he wants to be in his future and whether he even can be that person, or if his brain is too altered to understand the imperfections of happiness.

i don't want to say much about akane, fuyuhiko, or kazuichi yet. what i will say is that their journey of healing begins with the physical, and the mental gets pushed to the side for way too long. i can see Queen Sonia, Who Is Above All, and izuru kamukura taking care of themselves during the Tragedy, which is why they're some of the only ones to come out unscathed (not including nutrition deficiencies from being in the NWP pods). the other survivors aren't that lucky, so they have to overcome being weak before they can fully focus on the sins of their past and the futures they want. akane is the most malnourished, kazuichi has suffered so much damage to his limbs creating the monokumas and death traps in unsafe work environments, and fuyuhiko gave up his views of the world for those of a tyrant (literally lol bc. his eye. yknow?). how do they even begin to cope with the people they've chosen to become? how do they begin to cope with all they've lost physically and in their lives?

sonia: the next section i'm writing is about sonia actually! so i'll just share a snippet of that :)

When she had first woken up, Makoto and Kyoko had been there to help her, slowly lifting her upper body so she could sit up. She trusted them, of course she did, but who she really wanted to see was Hajime. Hajime, who had shone so brightly at the end of it all, who had overcome a despairing truth in order to help them all, who had lit a path to the future for his friends.

In that moment, she had seen the sort of person she had always wanted to be. Being a princess, born to be a queen, there was a lot of expectation for her to be the perfect leader. No matter who she asked, however, nobody could ever define what that really meant. Was perfection being an absolute authority? Being completely open to every request from her people? Maybe it was letting others do all the work and just smiling and waving, presenting a facade of peace when there was none. Or, worst of all, maybe it was being cruel, crushing all that stood in her path and ruling with an iron fist.

No. She had tried that last path, and now had no kingdom at all to rule. The princess, born to be a queen of perfectly nothing. Still, Sonia was a ruler at heart, a leader and guide to those around her. Before the others woke up, she knew she would need to define for herself again what the perfect leader was. All of these thoughts had run through her mind in the five seconds it took for Makoto and Kyoko to lift her to a sitting position, the detective hiding a smile as her partner babbled on about how great it was to see her awake, how much work they had to do, how happy he was to meet her in person. Sonia barely heard his words at the time, her eyes darting around the room of glowing pods, looking for that perfect leader to learn from. She had wanted to see Hajime.

#thanks so much again!!!#and sorry if this isn't exactly the answer you wanted lol i got overexcited and went on a bit of a tangent #i haven't completely decided if i will be focusing so heavily on all of them either. hajime and sonia are certainly the easiest for me to-#envision and write for so that's where i'm at the most rn #moon babbles #ask #anon #moon writings #danganronpa

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the-valiant-valkyrie · 1 year

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idk shes weird

#feed the roses #*guy who accidentally made multiple willow-centric chapters when she isn't great at writing willow*#sometimes she is the easiest character in the world other times. i am so so scared.

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denydefeat · 1 year

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the absolute best/easiest way to get to writing with me is either to send in memes or write a random starter. i'd rather write plots out than talk them out.

#OOC / A whole ass yikes #TO BE DELETED / Trash #[ like plotting is fine but i am not good at ooc communication in general so i'm probably going to forget to reply at one point and then ]#[ i'll feel like an asshole for replying so late ]#[ so yea ]#[ and i don't need like validation for replying late being okay b/c it isn't gonna change my feelings lmfao ]#[ like 'i have this idea i'm writing you a starter' is the easiest way to my heart ]#[ or 'i have this idea and i'm sending you a meme for it' ]#[ 9/10 times i'm 10000% down for the idea ]

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theghostofashton · 2 years

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being completely honest, what gets me the most about klaine in this ep is the comfort they still seem to find around each other. in that scene outside the faculty bathroom, and in all the scenes in the elevator, there’s a sort of ease to their dynamic that feels so grounded and just.....familiar, like they’re slipping back into places that feel like second nature. the fact that they not only rip up paper to play that game, but also choose things like what they’d name their celebrity child, memories from skating at bryant park, things that, at their core, speak to closeness and warmth. the fondest times that they can still look back on, even after everything that’s happened, and smile and laugh and joke around about.

that little improved scene gave us such a wonderful look at klaine in a way we really haven’t seen them before. a peek into the quiet, more domestic moments that we know have been happening off-screen since these two met but are finally now getting to actually see. and i really, really loved that.

#i love them so much :')#but as i have said before these two eps make me wildly uncomfortable lol #so writing about it isn't the easiest but i'm def open to talk about anything!#klaine #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #glee #gr1 #klaine thoughts

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dmclemblems · 2 years

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man, imagine just... letting people have their own opinions of gw and not making fun of people who did or didn’t enjoy it.

people in this fandom are so aggressive.

you can talk about your opinions and even hate or love as strongly as the human heart allows! just... don’t say things like “people are stupid for thinking xyz”. you do realize you may have mutuals or even friends following you that see that and are now apprehensive to talk to you, especially about this game, right? that you might be offending your own friends and acquaintances with insulting terminology and you don’t know a friend feels that way because they’re too anxious to even tell you now because you’ve made it clear that you think everyone with xyz opinion is some insulting and hurting term?

it’s one thing to say things like “this is the best/worst route between both games and I love/hate it more than anything”. it’s another to say something like “everyone who loves/hates gw is an absolute retard who didn’t understand claude’s character in houses in the first place if they loved/hated gw”.

no, I’m not quoting anyone specifically, but I’m trying to iterate to you an example of the sorts of things I’m seeing people saying as if under the assumption that every single person in their space agrees with them and that they’re not risking hurting someone with their words.

yeah, you can hate the route or love the route with every fiber of your being. I’m just personally not sure that’s worth being hateful toward every single other human being who has the opposite opinion as you, or worth making people apprehensive about checking their social media every day because they follow people who are very likely to insult entire groups of people based on their likes/dislike in a fictional universe.

like, yeah, I didn’t enjoy the second half of gw... but you know what’s cool? I’m still close friends with someone who liked it and feels the opposite way that I do about the writing and about claude.

#it sucks too bc I have mutuals on Twitter who will NOT stop talking about it #and going out of their way to point out every instance of their opinion while like #degrading the people who don't agree #at that point like mind your own business and talk about things that are fun??? stop getting mad at people for their opinions???#it's really easy to go find something you enjoy on the damn internet it's like the easiest way ever lol #even when I just check regular tags for characters nowadays it's the same arguments #half or more of the content isn't the characters or fanart or anything like that anymore #it's just people arguing about stupid shit like okay we get it you do or don't like the writing in it #it doesn't mean you have to go out of your way to make other people feel bad about their opinion #it's one thing to discuss with people in your space (depending on which social media you use etc)#but to go out of your way or to outright insult people with the opposite opinion just makes you look like you're trying to start fights #when this game came out I wanted to remember it by being Billy's final work for his job and he did so so so good #and now it's hard to look at this game and think of it that way because I keep thinking of all the drama #it's still hard to listen to Ferdinand's lines and some more than others bc I was in Billy's streams a lot #so when I hear those things I tend to picture his face and it's still difficult for me. I still can't wrap my head around him being gone #and for two months at that now. I want to look at this game and think of the work he did and you know? if you don't that's fine #but it's hard for me to see it that way now when I just can't log on to ANYTHING on ANY day and see ANYTHING but arguing or like #people straight up insulting others and using offensive terms about people who didn't like something #like cool you loved/hated gw. wanna explain why you're tagging your hate for other people to see? would love to hear THAT explanation #it's kinda like how on Twitter I've had to block an obscene amount of people in the dmcl tags #bc they post the ship name i.e. a keyword in searches that will come up when fans look for content #and it's a bunch of offensive shit about the entire fanbase and how we're all disgusting people with shit opinions #and who don't enjoy the ship for actual context but apparently bc we just want to see two guys bang #imagine lumping an entire fandom of anything (ship character series etc) into an insulting and offensive box just bc YOU don't like it #or you had ONE bad experience with a fan of it so now you post hate in their search keywords instead of censoring it #so that it doesn't come up in someone's searches #literally how are you going to be prejudice about an entire group of shippers or character fans full of ppl you don't even KNOW?#and instead of talking to some of them to understand their reasoning you just post offensive shit in their searches/tags #this is the kind of shit I'm seeing with Hopes too which is why I'm mentioning it here

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burntoutdaydreamer · 7 months

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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic

#writing #creative writing #writer problems #writing advice #writing community #writing a book #writing problems #novel writing #on writing #writing tips #writing help #writers on tumblr #writers block #female writers #writers of tumblr #writers blog #adhd writer

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astarriscus · 1 year

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new theme but it's kinda temporary bcs i'll polish it up more but for the meantime there it is. hello nines

#✩⤻; rambles !#i haven't finished nier automata actually. too busy and it isn't a priority (unfortunately) in my time management uh scheds #changed it bcs SORRY AKITO i do like you but nines is better. automata in general is just one of the best ever imo #i think when i get back to writing soon expect a lot of p5 and fe3h...? easiest for me to write i think. haven't been too into genshin #meanwhile and other fandoms i don't have characterization as down as i do with ^^. uhh can't think anymore rn tho so bye again

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neil-gaiman · 9 months

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I wanted to say, because you're the easiest person to thank for this - I've always struggled with suicidal thoughts (I promise this isn't *too* dark). But after watching GOS2, I've noticed whenever my head starts drifting to that bad place, I start hearing Crowley's little Scottish drunk-off-Laudanum voice going "noooo dying. No dying!" And it helps more than years of therapy ever did. So I guess thank you for writing that, and also thank David Tennant for delivering that.

I'm proud of you!

#no dying!#good omens #cw sui ideation

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kittyhazelnut · 1 year

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started writing out a frostwidow fic idea to post here and now it's 1800 words on wattpad (of a plot summary in a "book" full of fic ideas like it's not a real fic yet) and the more I write of it the more fucked-up it looks and like I feel like if I wrote it for realsies it might not look so fucked up but writing it out like this makes it looks pretty fucked up and now I feel like I can't post the summary idea on wattpad which sucks because I love when people comment on them but also a lot of people on wattpad are, like, 12, and idk maybe I'm just projecting because I read a frostiron fic that's kinda similar before that was really fucked up with like torture and non-con elements (and I never did finish the fic bc I got too squeamish at that) but I feel like this isn't meant for 12-year-olds? even though objectively nothing's really happened? at which point it's like why am I even writing this out anymore if I'm not gonna post it? like I've written fics for myself before that I've never posted but this isn't even a fic it's just a fucked-up concept and ugh idk I think I'm gonna finish writing out what I can think of and maybe I'll come back and read it one day a year or two from now and I'll be glad I did

#i started following whump blogs for the whumpee/caretaker content #but i've come to really like the whole 'conditioned whumpee' thing #and i kinda wanna try my hand at that and loki's the easiest one to inflict that on because it's pretty easy to shove him in a fic and talk #about all the ways thanos fucked him up #but also it just feels like such a fucked-up concept yknow? like can I even write that? is that weird? does that make me a weird person?#i actually started a fic the other day with feral whumpee loki under caretakers!asgard's care so like this isn't entirely new #and i had that wanda and pietro and loki fic from a year or so ago too #but this just feels like an extra level of fucked up even if nat's not gonna make him do anything completely fucked up #idk i'm probably overthinking this #maybe i'll reread my whole thing in the morning and see if it looks like something a 12-year-old can read lmao #also it doesn't help than an irl follows me on wattpad and would presumably read that too so I don't want to look too fucked up lmao #although everything she writes is about self-harm and suicide so I guess there's that?

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readychilledwine · 4 months

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hii!! i’m in love w your writing!!❤️❤️❤️ can i please request one where it’s azriel x reader. Feyre sees azriel wearing a ring on his left finger and asks,

” i’ve seen you wear that ring forever azriel, what does it mean? ”

” it’s my wedding ring ”

and her jaw drops bc she didn’t know he even had a lover.

” who is she? do i know her? what is she like? ”

he smiles faintly and says

” her name is y/n, she’s my mate and wife and she isn’t a warrior like us, she works at a library downtown. you don’t know her, only rhys and cassian do. we have a house in the outskirts in velaris. she is very sweet and i love her more than anything, our daughter is- ”

” YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER ????? ”

he nods and tells them all about her, he asks if feyre wants to meet reader and their daughter and feyre smiles and nods. He asks reader in the mating bond if it’s okay to bring her, nyx, rhys and cassian to dinner. reader says yes and azriel tells feyre he’ll pick them all up tonight before leaving to help his wife prepare. Reader meets feyre and become friends instantly, nyx and their daughter become friends aswell.

” how did i not know this?? this makes so much sense now. How he never sleeps here and he’s gone for days sometimes but not on missions. ” feyre asks rhysand.

”don’t worry i didn’t know for a long time either, Az is a very private person, he is extremely protective of his family. i’m glad he told me at all. either way he’s still a mystery sometimes, i learn new things about him all the time and i’ve known him for over 500 years” rhys says and laughs knowing your perfect for his brother 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️😭🥹😍

Haven

Warnings - none

A/n - I played with this for a while, rewrote it several times, and then made something that met in the middle of what came to mind, but still stuck with the request. Hopefully, you love it, dear 💜

Feyre had been in Velaris for 5 years. 5 long years and she had yet to figure out why Azriel kept a simple black band on his left ring finger at all times.

The two of them were on the couch, Rhys across from them, as they looked over maps of a few of the Illyrian Camps that had been recently renovated. The new cabins, mess halls, and dorms were a huge success, and figuring out the same layout for the remaining few was a huge topic of interest for the three smaller camps.

She glanced at the ring one more time before tapping it. Rhys and Azriel both looked at her, brows raised. "So, not magic," she muttered to herself. She tried spell cleaving it, "And not a ward or shield."

Azriel blinked at her, brows knit in silent question. Rhys had his hand over his mouth, hiding his amusement. Leave it to his wife to provide entertainment without knowing it was needed. "I-" she sighed. "You wear this ring all the time. I'm trying to figure out why."

Both of the males chuckled. "Probably the same reason you wear your wedding ring, Feyre Darling."

The High Lady made face, tapping the ring again. "Don't be ridiculous, Rhys. I would know if Azriel was married."

"Evidently not, my love."

Feyre and Azriel held eye contact, the male then going back to the maps. "Since I have extensive time in Steppes Peak, I think it would be easiest to move the mess hall here, at the base of the mountain, maintain the warroom in the carved out cave, and build better dorms here," he pointed to an empty part of the map.

Rhys nodded, drawing it out on the empty map he had. "I'm sure y/n will agree with whatever you say."

"Okay, stop." Feyre crossed her arms, pouting slightly at the two of them. "Azriel isn't married, and making up some name to make me feel stupid isn't kind."

Azriel sighed. He leaned back while dropping the scent ward he kept on himself at all times. He watched as her face fell. He knew his scent, chilled air and cedar, was the predominant one in the mateship, but now a soft floral scent, something like lavender and warm honey clung there softly.

"I've been married for longer than you have been alive, Fey." Azriel patted her hand. "I have a daughter older than you and another younger than Nyx."

He watched as her face fell, a small amount of hurt flashing across it. "Why didn't you tell me?" She paused, looking at the sleeping heir in his craddle. "We could be having play dates. I could have a friend who understands."

Guilt settled into his face as he pulled her into him. "I torture people for living, sweet sister. I execute people on your orders. I imprison people with a flick of your wrist." He tilted Feyre's head up. "Y/n has no combat training and refused to learn. She likes to sit at home writing poetry, baking, and cuddling our children. I do not bring her around or introduce them to anyone to keep them safe." His face held the ghost of a rare smile. "I think I've brought her to meet Rhys and Cassian once."

Rhys nodded. "I've met her once here and several times behind your back in town. Especially after my first niece was born."

Feyre kept her gaze on Nyx. "He could have a friend," her voice was distant.

Azriel stood, placing a kiss on her forehead as he did. "I'll be right back." Rhysand's smile grew wide. Folding the maps and putting them away. He moved to the liquor cabinet, bringing down one of his more expensive wines.

Azriel reappeared with you and both daughters in tow. Your oldest ran to Rhys, jumping on him and holding him tightly, her wings fluttering with joy as she did. "Hello, Amara," he nuzzled into her hair. "Missed you so much, baby girl. Cassian is on his way."

He walked with her in his arms to the table, setting the wine down and then carried her over to Feyre. "Would you like to meet your aunt?" She allowed Rhys to set her down and turned toward Feyre.

There was little question she was Azriel's. She was the beautiful artists dreamed of painting. Soft classic features framed with inky black hair that fell in gorgeous curls. "Feyre, this is our niece Amara. She's 56. She was my favorite suprise when I got home from the mountain."

She smiled shyly, keeping close to Rhysand. "Hi."

"Hi," Feyre didn't know what came over her, pulling the Illyrian female close to her and holding her. "I'm so excited to meet you."

Amara wrapped her arms around Feyre, returning the gesture. "Me too. Mom and I have been BEGGING dad for a while. But you know how the bats are."

The door slammed open, rushed loud footsteps and a panting filling the hall. "Where's my baby?!"

Amara pulled away from Feyre, smiling softly before moving away from all of them. She was rushed by Cassian, lifted up into his arms as he spun her.

Feyre looked to her side, noticing Azriel next to her, holding a swaddled bundle. "This is Iris. She's a month younger than Nyx." Azriel wouldn't look away from his daughter and her peaceful sleeping face. "I fear the day she loses her chipmunk cheeks."

Feyre looked around the room, trying to find the reason this was happening and felt her heart shift when she saw you, arm wrapped around Rhysand's bicep, looking at Nyx.

You were wingless, long dark hair braided back. Soft leggings and a sweater that was a few sizes too big covering your frame. Cassian had moved next to you, bumping you with his arm and smiling down at you. "He's so beautiful," your voice was a melody, a soft echo that brought calm to the room. "And so sweet. Look at those rosy cheeks."

Rhysand pulled you away, moving you back to Feyre. He handed you to Azriel, arms out expectedly. "Don't make me command it."

The shadowsinger placed his youngest in Rhysand's arms, hands shaking despite the trust between them, "Be careful with her. Please." Rhys nodded, moving over to Cassian. "Feyre, this is y/n, my wife and mat-"

Feyre didn't allow him to finish, hugging you instantly, tears lining her eyes as she did. "Please tell me we can be friends and cry about our babies together."

"I didn't realize that would even be a question. Of course we will be friends, and of course we will cry about all of the things. Our mates don't get it. Cassian, though, Cassian will join us."

The warlord stuck one finger in your direction. "Let me love them in peace, y/n."

You leaned into Feyre, "Has he cried while holding Nyx yet?"

She nodded. "Oh yeah. Big illyrian baby."

"The worst, aren't they? Rhysand, did you want me to make dinner?"

The High lord looked at Azriel, a small look of guilt on his face, "Please."

You squeezed Feyre's arm, kissing Azriel as you moved towards the kitchen. "You know where to find me if she needs me." He nodded.

Azriel moved to Cassian, watching like a hawk as the general snuggled the small babe in his arms. Amara was sitting by Nyx a look of love and adoration on her face as she sighed.

"She's perfect for Azriel in every way," Rhys stroked Feyre's hand. "I was nervous at first too when he brought her home. I was even more nervous when his fears manifested in the form of being deeply private with her. But she is perfect for him."

Feyre nodded, watching as Azriel glared as Cassian due to the loud squeak his baby had just let out.

"His girls are beautiful." Rhys hummed in agreement. "Y/n is beautiful."

Feyre moved to Amara's side, sitting next to her and smiling as her niece started asking questions.

She didn't realize it until now, but this was the missing piece. The part of the puzzle that had sat empty despite every thing around it being done. You and your girls were that lost center.

Now she just had to convince Azriel to keep bringing you around.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #send asks #send anons #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #girldad!azriel x reader

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fans4wga · 10 months

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'Why creatives are seeking residuals' - thread by Stefanie Williams

[Tweet thread by Stefanie Williams @/StefWilliams25

TRANSCRIPT:

Why creatives are seeking residuals vs. "do you pay the mattress maker every time you sleep on a mattress?" A thread. I keep hearing over and over again that writers/actors/creatives don't deserve residuals for the work they create. "If I build a bathroom in a house, I don't get paid every time someone uses the toilet."

TRUE! However, your bathroom build has a set market value. Art does not. No one knows what makes one TV show an overnight success, and another a flop. No one knows what makes one song a hit, and the other a dud. If they did, trust me when I say record companies would be churning out Taylor Swifts over and over again. Studios would be making nothing but Stranger Things.

But that isn't the case. No one could predict Stranger Things would be a massive, billion dollar hit. No one could predict Taylor Swift was going to be a world wide phenomenon who literally could record herself reading Aesop's Fables and make millions of dollars. Which is why residuals are important. The pay structure protects both the creators and the publishers/distributors.

The easiest way to explain it is by referencing an author writing a book. Sure, an author might get a very modest up front fee, but the author is banking on royalties to really make money on the book — for every book sold, the author gets a piece of the pie. This protects both the author and the publisher—because if the book is a flop, the publisher doesn't go broke on a financial promise they made to the author that didn't pan out, and if the book is a mega-hit, the author didn't give away a massive, million-dollar book for 20k.

It's a sliding scale that is required for a product that has no set market value. What makes an actor's work on a hit show more valuable than an actor's work on a show that gets canned after five episodes? The market value for art almost always comes after the fact, so residuals account for that reality. They make sure the creator get compensated at a fair market rate. A person who builds a bathroom knows, upfront, what the market rate for a bathroom is. That bathroom won't suddenly be worth 1000 times more than you built it for in six months. It doesn't have the potential to be built for 20k and generate 20 million.

Residuals are a pay structure that simply account for an unsure market value. Trust me, we all wish we could quantify art in terms of dollars. But art is unpredictable. So studios and streamers -- which literally REQUIRE content to stay viable -- have to account for that unpredictability. And for studios (or record labels, or book publishers) it's always trial and error. The only way to get a hit, is to go through a few flops.

For every Whitney Houston, there was a singer you never heard of. For every Sopranos, there was a show that got scrapped mid season. For every Titanic, there was a movie that bombed. For every Twilight, there was a book about vampires that went nowhere. Residuals are kind of a reverse market valuation. They pay a fair wage for a product than can only have a set value once it's been created and effectively consumed.

And even then, shit changes. Anyone think Kate Bush would spend weeks on the top of the charts in 2022? Residuals account for unpredictable markets. And in order to have accurate residuals, streamers and studios need to be transparent and open about their data, which is one of the MANY things the WGA and SAG are both fighting for.

#sag-aftra strike #sag strike #actors strike #union solidarity #support unions #fans4wga #described #wga strike #writers strike

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