Writing Tips: Adding Nuance And That 'it' Factor

writing tips: adding nuance and that 'it' factor

you've read good fics, and you've read great fics. fics that make you squeal and kick your feet and ache for the next installment. and it's not always because his dick is ten inches long. (sorry)

(this also applies to reg stories)

how do authors do that??? it's fanfiction, how is it so good???

well, first of all, there are some amazing writers (love you guys) but also, there's nuance.

the little things.

give your characters a 'thing'. a running joke, a piece of symbolism, a secret handshake, something like that. give a character a recognizeable 'ism' (like a habit or a tell) that someone relentlessly teases them for. nicknames! adorable. these things add little bits of color to the relationship and to the character arcs. don't force it, but if it happens, let it!

2. dialogue!!! omfg dialogue.

good dialogue is the shit. seriously. dialogue is so fucking important for literally everything. 'but pygmi, i suck at dialogue!' get over it. just kidding, practice! bookmark your favorite pieces of dialogue and try to identify what makes it so good. my favorite tip: don't edit the dialogue. no filter. just have the characters go off and say what they want. later, when you've found the gems, edit the gunk out but seriously! use character ai for inspiration if you need. no shame.

3. relatability.

for some reason, people have equated relatability to cynicism. that's not accurate. relatability means your character doesn't always have witty comebacks. sometimes they deepthroat the boot, it you catch my drift. if your MC always has a retort or a snapback, the bickering gets old. add some stumbles. it's ok! ur character is still a badass xox

relatability can also mean being humble. not pitiful, humble. your character can be good at something, but maybe not the best. everyone has a 'thing', something they're good at, but we still have moments of insecurity. I'm tired of reading 'they were the best mechanic in the galaxy blah blah blah' can you tell i read mando and poe fics or what give it some spice! don't make them a useless mess tho. gross.

you know what being a person is like. you are one, and if you're not you are surrounded by them. guess what - the characters in your fandom are people too (maybe?). my point is, even though it seems like they are superhuman or unreal...they are. write them as such. you can do it.

4. personal touches.

your writing has a voice. use it!!!!!! you can tell the difference between different writers because of their little touches. as a reader, i love those! it makes me feel closer to the story, if you add funny commentary or whatever.

5. staying with the story.

not with canon necessarily, but keeping the plot steady and the characters consistent. it's hard, because comments on your story can influence your story, but stick to the script. stories change, but if you throw it every direction, your readers will be like 'this person needs to figure it tf out bye.' keep a little checklist, stay organized. organization is key for continuity.

xox love u

i want to write but my brain wants to think about middle aged men while i stare at a wall HELP

a list of 100+ buildings to put in your fantasy town

academy

adventurer's guild

alchemist

apiary

apothecary

aquarium

armory

art gallery

bakery

bank

barber

barracks

bathhouse

blacksmith

boathouse

book store

bookbinder

botanical garden

brothel

butcher

carpenter

cartographer

casino

castle

cobbler

coffee shop

council chamber

court house

crypt for the noble family

dentist

distillery

docks

dovecot

dyer

embassy

farmer's market

fighting pit

fishmonger

fortune teller

gallows

gatehouse

general store

graveyard

greenhouses

guard post

guildhall

gymnasium

haberdashery

haunted house

hedge maze

herbalist

hospice

hospital

house for sale

inn

jail

jeweller

kindergarten

leatherworker

library

locksmith

mail courier

manor house

market

mayor's house

monastery

morgue

museum

music shop

observatory

orchard

orphanage

outhouse

paper maker

pawnshop

pet shop

potion shop

potter

printmaker

quest board

residence

restricted zone

sawmill

school

scribe

sewer entrance

sheriff's office

shrine

silversmith

spa

speakeasy

spice merchant

sports stadium

stables

street market

tailor

tannery

tavern

tax collector

tea house

temple

textile shop

theatre

thieves guild

thrift store

tinker's workshop

town crier post

town square

townhall

toy store

trinket shop

warehouse

watchtower

water mill

weaver

well

windmill

wishing well

wizard tower

Tear Down My Reason [5]

Orderly!Blue Jones X NonBinary Afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •

Summary: Blue has a few days off.

Series Masterlist

A/N: Reader is afab and non-binary, and is referred to by the nickname, 'Honey'.

Warnings: overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here, gonna say dubious consent because reader is a patient, soft!Blue, some anxious thoughts, dry humping, p in v sex, cream pie, Blue being a bit possessive, Honey as a pet name, swearing, typos, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2062

Blue was off for three days, which shouldn’t have been so much of an issue for you.

It was scheduled, routine time off that he’d told you about in advance. It wasn’t as if you were wondering where he was and if he was okay.

Not that you cared if he was okay or not. No. No way. Not at all.

But the days had been surprisingly long and boring without him. You missed his presence in the building. Harris, Blue’s second in command, had been left in charge. He was a calm man, with an even voice but he didn’t have the same gravitas that Blue had cultivated. And while patients still went quiet when he came into a room, it was more the other orderlies that were the issue. 

Especially a couple of the new recruits. Russell and Mcconnell in particular are high on your list of people to steer clear of.

Abigail said your name softly, breaking you out of your thoughts. You blink hard. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, shaking your head. 

“You okay?” Abigail's eyebrows are pinched together in worry but you nod. 

“Just thinking.” 

She nods. 

Erna and Meagan give you sympathetic looks, and Lilly had paused speaking. She gave you a soft smile, shifting her chair in the rec room a fraction closer to you. 

“You sure?” Lilly leans forward a little as she speaks.

“Yeah, no,” you rub your eyes, “tired maybe.” 

Lilly hums and strokes your back, “I know the feeling… must be nice though, not having Blue around at the moment? He’s really been riding your back recently.” 

You freeze for a second and she thankfully mistakes your reaction. The more correct turn of phrase was that you had been riding him.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She leans a little loser and you manage to give her a weak smile. 

“Yeah.” You swallow, your mouth dry. 

“He has been better recently.” Megan adds, “he’s not been so,” she gestures with her hands, “extreme.”

Lilly shakes her head, “You don’t know him like we do.” The ‘we’ obviously means you and her. What exactly had happened in solitary? 

“He’s distracted at the moment,” Lilly adds and Meagan nods sadly, before turning back to you, “he’ll get bored and’ll focus on someone else soon, I promise.” She says it so kindly, trying to console you as best she can. 

She doesn’t know that it feels like a blade to the chest. 

.

An air of dispondance hangs over you later than evening when you go to your room for lights out. For once you’re in bed well before the orderlies come to lock the bedroom doors and call for lights out. 

But you don’t sleep. No matter how hard you try. 

The conversation plays over and over in your head like a merry-go-round, getting stuck on specifics before rotating back to the beginning. 

He’ll get bored of you. 

You don’t know him like we do.

You sigh, tensing your muscles, trying to wipe the thoughts out. If you needed to-

Your door clicks, the sound of a jangle and then keys in the lock. 

Nausea twists in your stomach. You don’t freeze, instead you sit bolt upright, your left hand rummaging for the twisted metal bed springs you’d fashioned into a primitive weapon under your mattress, it wouldn’t do much but it was better than nothing.

The door opens and the tension leaves you in one quick sweep. 

Even in the dark, you recognise Blue’s silhouette.

“Blue,” you whisper, unable and unwilling to keep the smile out of your voice. 

He shuts the door quickly, putting his keys in the lock before he comes over and sits on the side of your bed. 

You shift, giving him extra space. 

“Honey, Honey, Honey,” he reaches out, lightly touching your upper arm and then quickly embracing you when you reach for him. He presses his face into your neck and breathes deeply, like he was finally filling his lungs with clean air. 

“I thought you would be sleeping.” He strokes your cheek, kissing you softly and nuzzling your nose against his. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

He frowns, still stroking your skin, “Badly?” 

You shake your head. “No, no, just one of those days, well nights.” 

He smiles, “Hmm, I understand, I’ve felt the same.” He gives you another soft kiss that makes your stomach buzz pleasantly. 

“How were your days off? I thought you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning?” You stroke his waist, shuffling a little so you can get closer to him. 

“Awful. Missed you so bad Honey. Hated it.” He moans softly, leaning into your touch eagerly. “Thought I was gonna lose it, so I came back now.”

You slide your hand up and around his shoulders as you trail sloppy kisses along his jaw, his breathing hitches as he groans and quickly tugs off his shoes before he clambers fully onto the bed. 

“Thought you were gonna be sleeping.” He repeats, almost lightheaded with how you're touching him. Need burns along his veins, makes him dizzy. “Was just gonna look in on you, just wanted to see your pretty face.” 

You mouth at his neck, scraping your teeth over his pulse point in a way you know drives him wild.

He groans immediately, grabbing at your hips, “Honey, oh shit.” He breathes heavily in your ear, pulling you into his lap. “Gonna get me all worked up.” He bites his lip, trying to keep some semblance of control over himself. 

“Good.” 

“Ugh,” he slips his hands under your pyjama top, just skimming the tips of his fingers over your warm skin. “You’re addictive, you know that. They need to put a warning in your notes,” he presses his left hand against the small of your back, pushing you so that your core rocks against him. “Hmmm,” he moans into your mouth when you kiss him, parting his lips eagerly and letting your tongue slip inside. 

You shiver, the heat of his hand spreading up your back as you grind against him, rubbing your aching clit all over his rapidly hardening cock. 

“Missed you.” You mutter and he whimpers.

“Missed you, Honey, missed you so fucking much.” He tugs at your clothes. “Come, let’s get these off, yeah?” He asks sweetly, smiling when you nod. 

You disentangle from each other just long enough for you both to strip. Blue yanks off his lab coat, t-shirt and sweats, chucking them on the floor and then sitting back against your headboard. 

His hands are all over you before you’re even finished undressing. He pulls you softly back into his lap, positioning your legs so that they’re wrapped around his waist. He grins up at you, his eyes bright as his bare skin is finally against yours. 

“Hmmm, much better Honey, much better.” He leans forward, sucking a love bite into the base of your neck and soothing the sting quickly with his tongue. 

He lets out a little shuddered breath as you start to move again, slowly rocking against his warm, velvety length. 

You shiver, wrapping your arms around him as pleasure starts to build in your belly and makes you desperate.

“God,” he swallows thickly, “love watching you,” he kisses your chin, lips, cheek, alternating between having to gaze upon your face and needing his mouth touching your skin. He whines low in his throat, whimpering with every gentle rock and glide of your hips. 

“Do you think you can come like this?” He asks softly, his voice strained. 

You nod, your fingers digging in and you move faster as you lift yourself up and down, dragging your bundle of nerves over him again and again. 

“Please,” he moans, so caught up in the sensations of your folds sliding against his cock, every drag and long drawn out movement sending him reeling into bliss. “P-please, want to watch you come, want you to feel good.”

His words go straight to your core, the desperate love sick glaze to his eyes, the way he tugs at your waist, moving with you wantonly is all too much, and it’s all too easy to let yourself just sink under his spell. 

You whine, breathing hard as you squeeze his biceps and shoulders, so close you can taste it. 

“Couldn't even come without you the last few days,” he pants, “wouldn’t work, just wanted to feel you and taste you and-” He groans low as you tense, your breath leaving you in a gasp. 

Pleasure explodes along your nerves, flooding your mind as you shake in his arms and claw at his back. 

“Oh god, yes.” He moans louder than you do, holding your chin and neck in his hands so he can watch your face intently. He keeps moving, rocking his hips to prolong your pleasure as he bites his lip to force down his own orgasm. 

He litters your face with kisses as you relax, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. “Look so beautiful, Honey.” He whispers and hugs you tightly.

You breathe hard but then pull back a fraction. 

Blue frowns, a worried look flashing across his face until you rise up and take his cock in hand. A deep groan overtakes him as you line him up with your soaking core and sink down onto his thick length. 

“Honey, Honey, Honey,” he repeats, gasping as you move slowly at first, easing up and down gently. “I’m, I’m sorry,” he chokes, “I’m gonna, I can’t, I’m gonna come.” He bites his lip hard, trying to focus on anything else. 

“Shhh,” you press your thumb against his mouth, easing his lip free from his teeth and kissing him sweetly, tasting the desperation on his tongue. “Be good and come for me.” 

He whines, grabbing hold of your waist and pushing you down flush against him. He rocks twice, his eyes screwed up tight, mouth open as he empties himself into you with a long sigh. Relief flooding his veins like an addict finally getting a hit. 

He buried his face into your chest, kissing your breasts and muttering thank yous. 

Softly, you stroke his hair, it’s getting a little longer, starting to grow out of his short cut. 

“You don’t need to thank me.” You whisper. 

“Yes, yes I do.” He mumbles into you. “Need to thank you every second of the day.” 

You giggle, your heart so light and airy you feel like you could float. “You’re so silly.” 

He snorts, looking up at you and smiling. “Loving you isn’t silly, Honey.” He gazes at you for a long moment, looking more content than you’ve ever seen him. “I have something for you.”

You incline your head, “Something for me?” 

“Hmm,” he grins cheekily, “something that isn’t my cock.” 

You tut but you’re laughing. “I already have that anyway,” you squeeze your walls around him and he groans. 

“Hell yeah, you do.” He squeezes you tightly before he bends to the side at the most awkward angle, but doing it so that he doesn’t have to take his softening cock out of you just yet. 

He fishes around in his lab coat pockets for a moment while you laugh.

“Ah, ha!” He sits up dramatically, relishing your attention. “Here.” 

He hands you a small soft toy bear that is a little larger than your hand. It’s soft, it’s fur a warm baby blue. 

You stare at it for a moment, an alien emotion settling in your bones. 

“Do you…” he swallows, gazing up at you nervously, “if you don’t like it, you don’t have-”

You snatch it from his hand a little dramatically and he smiles shyly, warmth breaking into his chest. 

“I love it.” You smile, you want to cry. It doesn’t make sense. You can’t remember the last time someone gave you a gift.

“I saw it yesterday, I was out shopping and I saw him and…” A little blush colours his cheeks that isn’t from the exertion of your lovemaking. “Bears like honey right? And he’s blue.” 

You take his chin in your left hand and cradle the bear to your chest with your right as you pull him into a deep, long kiss that leaves him breathless and lightheaded. 

“I love him, Blue, thank you.” 

He grins, hugging you tightly like you’re the only thing he cares about in the word. “I’m glad Honey.” 

Thank you for reading!

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life tips! part 1: cleaning up

trying a new series lmk if you like it

So i am the literal worst at cleaning up, it's just a huge mental block for some reason. these things work about 70% of the time which is a passing grade so lemme share w yall:

Bedroom

take all the laundry and stuff and put it on your bed. then start sorting it into little piles. you can take breaks and stuff, but the only way to go to sleep is to get all the stuff off your bed (i.e organized and put away or in the hamper). Sometimes I get 50% of the way there and just shove everything else back onto the floor but hey, that's half of the problem fixed.

Vacuum! I love vacuuming for some reason, so I just clear all the stuff onto my bed and vacuum. then it feels like I got something done, even if by the end I can't tell any more.

use trash bags. pick up the laundry and shove it into trash bags. don't need to sort the colors or anything, just shove it in. Then, you have a blank floor and nice bags all lined up to be washed. Looking at a messy floor makes my brain melt, so seeing it tied up in bags is easier to manage. Every day, take a bag down to the laundry machine and wash the clothes. By the end of the week, all done!

if you can't do anything, at least wash your sheets. this is hella important for hygiene. strip and wash them, maybe watch tv while you wait so you aren't tempted to sleep on a naked mattress. Clean sheets will help you sleep better and avoid getting sick.

Act like you're picking up after a friend. I have a hard time caring for myself but I can take care of others. Pretend it's your friend's bedroom who needs help. talk to them on the phone while you clean, talk to yourself and pretend it's them, but if you play a little game then it can ease the anxiousness of cleaning.

Study space:

make it usable. it doesn't have to be spotless, but if it's 'clean enough,' good for you. that's all you need.

a good dusting makes it look so much better.

get a clutter basket; anytime you have too many trinkets or scraps or whatever, shove em into the clutter basket and go through it later.

General tips:

do a little every day. the big spring cleanings at the end of the month or whatever aren't as productive. there's no way you can clean an entire living space in a day without feeling hella burnt out. set a timer for like 20 minutes before bed and just pick stuff up, clear the dishes, vacuum a little.

Boyfriend, girlfriend

Rydal Keener x f!reader

Self indulgent sick fic, can be read as part of the Oxford Comma AU, or as a stand-alone. ❤️

Warnings: bad words. No smut, just fluff and more run on sentences 🥰

Words: 1.2k

You had missed 4 classes this week already, and it was only Wednesday. Your roommate was out gathering the notes promised to you from your classmates, desperate to be away from you while you sneezed up a storm in the congested space you were meant to share. You desperately needed a shower, having sweat through the t-shirt you were laying in, your hair matted in all directions as you tossed and turned through your illness. Why were the school distributed beds so uncomfortable? Was there a room upgrade option you didn’t know about, only available to the students who had higher up connections? You could’ve sworn Rydal’s bed was never this lumpy when you stayed the night with him.

You can’t help but wonder where Rydal is at the moment. You had told your roommate to let him know not to come by, that you weren’t in a state to see him and to just take notes during lectures for the next midterm. He had apparently taken this information well, but you’re not exactly sure how reliable of a narrator your roomie was, especially when it came to Rydal. She seemed to zone out whenever he was talking and you’re not sure if it’s because he was undeniably pretty or because he was using that voice he would slip into when he needed someone to do something for him. Bitterly, you think of how he would rather not spend his free time with a sickie like yourself, that Chester had probably taken the rare opportunity that you weren’t around to come and set up camp in his room. Might even bring a girl with him. Might bring two. Sigh.

It literally served you no purpose to be this jealous over the other girls in his circles, he’s proved himself time and time again about how he felt about you but you couldn’t help it, especially with the state you were in right now. Thank goodness he wasn’t here to see you like this. Aggressively pulling the blankets over your head and letting out a cry of frustration, you wanted to scream at how it came out entirely garbled with the way your nose was backed up.

You heard a cough from the door. A cough that suspiciously sounded like someone trying and failing to cover up a laugh.

Slowly peeling back the covers, you peeked over the huddled fabric to see none other than your boyfriend – could you even call him that, you’ve never actually said those words out loud but it was unspoken that you were his, and he yours – leaning his back against your door looking entirely too casual.

“Don’t come any closer,” you croaked out.

“Geez, she said you were in bad shape, but I wasn’t expecting you to sound like Gollum,” he sniffed, walking to your bed despite your protests. He ripped back the blanket you were slowly inching up towards your face so that only your eyes were showing and pressed the back of his hand against your forehead before frowning deeply at you. Oh, life wasn’t fair with him looking so statuesque, looming over your sweaty and disheveled form with concern in his eyes. You looked back at him dumbly, inhaling a ragged breath before coughing into your sleeve for half a minute.

When you looked back up, Rydal was walking into your bathroom, the sound of him digging through your cabinets carrying across the room until he started the shower. Emerging from the bathroom, he came back to your wide eyed self with determination set in his gaze. Usually, his features were soft around you, a small smile playing at his mouth at all times, but there was no trace of that right now. You didn’t like it.

Feeling small, like you had somehow disappointed him even in your attempt to take care of all by yourself and not bother him, you looked down avoiding his eye. He lifted you into a sitting position, blankets still wrapped around you, and kneeled in front of you before tilting your face up to look at him.

“You’re gonna go in there and take a hot shower, okay?” and he’s actually waiting for you to respond, like a child listening to a parent give them slow instructions on their first time going to the grocery store by themselves.

You nod dumbly. He starts nodding, too.

“Then when you come out, you’re going to put on clean clothes, not the t-shirt that I gave you last week–”

“Hey!”

His face broke out into a smile at that, finally getting you to rise to his bait, a flicker of yourself flashing before his eyes. When he walked in here, he was genuinely concerned for you at your lack of fight, you didn’t even have the energy to throw any of your usual verbal acid at him. Brushing your hair back gently, despite it being a mess, he nudged you towards the bathroom with a slap on your ass for good measure.

The shower admittedly felt nice, all the sweat and grime from the past day swirling down the drain as you spent an extra five minutes under the hot water, letting it soothe the ache in your muscles. Shutting the water off, you quickly grabbed the towel he had set out for you – really, where did he learn to be so considerate – to wrap yourself up in and go back to your bed.

Rydal was waiting with the pair of sweats he had gifted you after you talked mad shit about how privileged people even had better damn sweatpants than the middle class with your favourite printed t-shirt you wore to bed. Why did he have to be so observant, so much so to know which pajamas to pick out of your closet for you when you weren’t there to tell him which ones you wanted. You sat on the bed as he stood before you, barking out orders to you for you to lift your arms so he could dress you, “up!”, and you’ve never felt so small with him. If it were physically possible, you’d shrink yourself to fit in the palm of his hand just so he could keep you safe.

“There’s my girl,” and those three words had no reason to have such an effect on your mood, until he had to follow it with his usual cheek. “Not stinky anymore.”

You broke out into a fit of giggles, not able to help it at his dumb choice of words. Sometimes, he really was like a child, throwing playground insults at you in an attempt to ‘tell you he liked you’, like the bullshit the teachers would feed you after some ill-behaved kid threw sand in your face. Except this time, he wasn’t throwing sand, he was tying your hair into a bun so that you could lie against his chest without it getting in your mouth, and he was putting on your favourite movie on your laptop, and he had a cup of lemon tea waiting for you after your shower, and he had called for Chinese takeout to your dorm building, and he was kissing your forehead even when you called him stupid for staying so close to you because you were going to get him sick.

He was brittle and he was intense and deliberate in his words but he was yours. And you were his.