hey it's nanowrimo. i have tips bc i've done it about 34 times.
Don't edit. Ever. Stop it. If you just decide to start a new project half thru this one with all new characters, no problem. pick up and keep writing as if you'd already written the first half of that.
"but i spelled it wrong" whatever. "but the grammar" whatever. make it exist first. no time for sense. think like you're working on a typewriter. no backspace. only forward go.
Don't re-read further than a paragraph or two backwards. "did i mention the gun before?" listen - it doesn't matter. if you need there to be a gun there, the gun is there. put it back in once you finish the book.
"i forgot the specifics of X thing i already wrote" whatever. change it, make a note/comment to figure it out later, and just write what makes sense for the moment. "no raquel it's legit the characters name and origin" idc that character is now reborn as Claudius from Elsewhere. it's fine.
only you see your mistakes. nobody else knows. one of the ways writing and dance overlap - only you know the choreography. nobody else will know if you miss a step, so just keep dancing and pretend you meant to do it like that.
it's an illusion that you need to write linearly - from point A to point B to point C. Nah; that's just timeline propaganda. I've written a LOT of books out of order and just reordered them once i've finished. if you have a scene you'd LOVE to write but can't get there yet because of plot, just fuckin write the scene. I've always found its easier to establish "point F" "point J" and "Point A" and then wiggle my way between those scenes.
write what you WANT to write. 230 pages of smut? of well-researched discussion on bread? whatever. the point is to strengthen muscles however you can.
if you miss a day, a week, whatever. not the end of the world. we all have dry days. also time is a myth so u can do this challenge whenever u want.
as soon as you try to write for a specific audience, you kill your voice. you are writing for yourself. stop thinking about how people will take ur book. it don't matter. what matter is u, enjoying writing. i luv u.
play to your strengths. i have characters talk so much because i don't know how to write a plot if it kills me but i'm really good at dialogue so.
i love a flight of fancy. write a poem in there. shift tactics and write in code. keep it fun for yourself.
see what happens if you shift something major about ur main characters - gender, wealth, superpowers. or if you change point-of-view. or if you kill everyone in a big explosion. do NOT edit anything before this or after it. often these little weird one-off exercises teach me what interests me about what i'm working on. it is never what i thought. plus it is a fun way to add like 1k words.
stretch.
it's for fun and for practice. stop doing that project if it's giving you anxiety. once my nano was literally 50k words of half-started stories. just things i tried and tried and tried and wasn't able to flesh out. oops. but i am now 50k words of a better writer.
add dragons?
read books/listen to books on tape/etc. people often make the mistake of "buckling down" to just write. you need inspiration. you need to like. fill up on words. you need to remember how it feels to lose yourself in a story.
i don't have the time or space to really talk about this in this post but a lot of creative people turn to drugs/alcohol because it can help you be more creative. this is harmful, and walking a blade that only cuts deep. if you notice you and your loved ones are turning more to substances, please know i love you and i hope you are able to get help soon. i feel like this almost never gets mentioned because it's kind of a hazy underbelly to art. you are always more important than the work.
on that note. drink your fukin. water.
don't talk about a story until you've finished it. once you tell the story, it exists already, and isn't about discovery. i usually have a very canned "haha we'll see" response.
grapes :) tasty snack.
i love you be free.
2K notes
·
View notes
Homelander and spanking is giving me brainrot rn. Just imagine lightly smacking his ass throughout the day as a joke only for him to turn tables and go from 0 to 100 REAL quickly
18+, f!reader, spanking, dirty talk, inappropriate use of a conference room, p-in-v sex, cream pie.
The first time you slap Homelander's ass, it's a drive-by at work. It's quick, a sharp little smack with the back of your hand because he hasn't noticed his cape is pulled aside, hooked on a chair. No one he's standing with notices, but he whips his head around to look at you. You're already halfway down the hall, practically fleeing from him while grinning to yourself.
The two of you have been dating for a while. It's certainly the office's worst kept secret, but you both still like to play around as if no one knows.
It happens again that same day while the two of you are alone in The Seven's conference room, and this time it's a full on assault.
It's hardly your fault that when you drop your pen, he doesn't bend with his knees. Instead, he bends perfectly in half, acting the part of the ideal gentleman to pick up your pen. You reel both hands back, and clap him loudly on the ass, surprising even yourself with the sound it makes.
The look on his face when he whirls around on you makes you nearly scream with laughter, muffling it into both your hands.
"Okay," he says slowly, voice pitched so menacingly that you instantly turn on your heel, making a break for the closed door, but he catches you by the waist and yanks you right back. "You wanna play? Let's play."
"No! No! It was just a joke! I won't do it again!" You cry, writhing in his grip, still laughing.
"Nope. You started this, now I'm gonna finish it," he says, bending you over the table. He keeps you there with nothing more than a light hand on your lower back, and shamelessly flips your skirt up over your hips.
You gasp, whole body tensing up immediately. "Oh my god, hold on-"
The first crack of his gloved hand against your ass knocks the next words completely from your brain, swiftly emptying it. You expect that to be the end of it, a revenge beautifully executed.
Until he does it again.
This time, you moan.
The sound surprises both of you.
You feel your whole face flush, your stomach doing backflips. You reach back to push your skirt down, wildly embarrassed by how obscene the noise had been in your own ears.
However, Homelander doesn't let you up. Instead, he takes hold of your wrist and curls it behind your back, wringing another surprised noise from you. "Wh-what're you-"
He does it again. He's incredibly restrained, striking with such precision of strength, it's honestly a wonder. To your mortification, you can feel your clit beginning to throb. Holy fuck, this is turning you on fast. He delivers another sharp little smack, and then another. You clench your thighs together, panting out pitchy little breaths with every blow.
Homelander slides his hand up from the small of your back to the back of your neck, squeezing it. You can feel yourself beginning to soak your panties, ridiculously wet not only from the way he's spanking you, but from the ragged way you can hear him breathing. Knowing he's getting off on this as much as you are strikes a chord low in your belly.
"H-Homelander," you moan. Your ass is beginning to smart, hot to the touch. Even when he just rubs it, it feels absolutely electric.
"Jesus Christ," he growls, gritting the words out through his teeth.
The next thing you know, he lets go of your neck and you hear a distinctive metallic click. It's followed immediately by an audible shuffle of fabric, and then you feel him hook the crotch of your panties with his thumb, pulling the material aside.
You recognize the shape of the fat head of his cock pushing against your pussy immediately. It makes an obscene, wet noise upon contact, smearing not only your wetness, but his. He rocks his hips, grinds back and forth against you, trailing that wetness from your clit nearly all the way back to your ass.
"All this time," he breathes, voice rough, already wrecked with his own arousal. "You just wanted me to spank you, huh?"
You make a pleading little noise, spreading your legs further.
"Could'a just asked, sweetheart," he says, huffing a laugh. You can hear how he's restraining himself, forcing himself to go slow, keeping himself from shoving inside you all at once. He fucks lazily between the wet folds of your cunt, slowly driving you wild.
"C'mon," you urge, rocking back against him. "Fuck me," you say, but instead of moving him along any faster, all you get is another sharp slap to your ass.
"Say please," he chides.
"Please," you moan readily, knees quivering. "Please, please fuck me."
He grunts out a tight little "Fuck," and takes your hips in both hands as he finally lines himself up with your cunt. He moves slow, makes you pant and whine as he eases just the thick head of his cock into you. He rocks you back and forth with ease, like a toy, working himself gradually deeper.
You claw at the table, struggling to find purchase, but the glass is smooth and too wide, leaving you absolutely nothing to grip. You can't do anything but take it, moaning feverishly as he opens you up.
"Always take me so fucking good," he groans, halfway there now, savoring the way your walls cling to him. "Like you were made to."
"I was," you say, hands balled up into fists, panting condensation onto the glass table top. "I was made for you, feel so fucking good in me, oh fuck, fuck, my pussy's still shaped like you."
Those words snap something in him, cause him to jerk you back the rest of the way onto his cock. Your ass stings deliciously when he bottoms out against it, wringing another pitchy moan from you. You've always had the power to shatter his meticulously crafted control, and today is no exception.
You wanted him to fuck you, and you're going to get it.
Homelander fucks you in sharp, deep little bursts, barely leaving you, just grinding deeper and deeper until you feel the head of his cock bumping into the very core of you.
Abruptly, he pulls you up until your back is flush to his chest. He wraps one hand around your waist while the other goes right to your throat, lifting you clean off your feet, holding you tight while he mercilessly pounds into you.
You have no leverage, can't do anything but grab hold of his wrist with both hands, clinging to him. Your ass burns and your cunt fucking aches, and there's a pressure building in you so rapidly you feel like you're going to explode.
"I-I'm gonna come," you gasp wetly, tears gathering in your eyes from the sheer overwhelm of sensation. "H-Homelander, I'm gonna come, I'm-I'm gonna come!"
He just pumps his hips faster, buries his face in the crook of your neck and fucking bites into your shoulder. It surprises you so much you nearly scream, and with it, your climax hits you like a truck. Your whole body seizes up, an explosion of waves rolling through you. The euphoria is unbelievable, knocks the wind right out of your lungs and paralyzes you, leaves you unable to breathe while Homelander fucks you through it.
After one last hard slam, Homelander stills, spilling into you with a ragged, gasping moan. The heat and flood of it is so intense, you almost take it for a second orgasm, goosebumps erupting across your body all over again.
Slowly, gently, Homelander lowers you back down onto the table, covering your body with his.
The two of you stay like that for several long moments, both catching your breath, both equally shocked by the rate at which the situation had escalated.
Eventually, after a deep breath, you say, "So... I like spanking."
"Yeah," Homelander exhales, licking his lips. "Me too."
522 notes
·
View notes