#im sad at my own writjng

[yujisbsf]

✵ 𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝚐.𝚜.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙚:

𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡, 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧. 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝. 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜:

𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 / 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 / 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 & 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐧𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐲 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 / 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 / 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 / 𝐯𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐭(𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐞) / 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐢𝐬𝐡(𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠...) / 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 / 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐀𝐔 / 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 / 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜:

VERY OUT OF CHARACTER getou and i mean very. also not glorifying any of this. read note at end for context.

𝙀𝙙𝙞𝙩:

i thought it would be cool if i wipped my mac out and put some gradient on my words but thenbthe website crashed and i give up.

4.1k w.c.

✮

more utc.

The lights shining above the highway, illuminated the road, and slowly flashed into your car in a pattern.your car clock said 1 am.

your plane didn’t land but an hour ago, and you had rushed to your car, eager to get home.

you had been visiting family, in your home state. your grandma passed away and you had to go to the funeral. if your being honest you didn’t want to go, it was a break though.

but this break couldn’t get you away from him and you couldn’t get your mind off of him. you wish you could’ve though. it would be nice to have an real break.

but alas, you can’t have a break, you have two full time jobs, the one you went to college for, and the one you have at home taking care of a 24 year old man.

he’s insufferable. you hate him…lie. you love him, you wish he would change, ask for help, something. you are tired of taking care of this grown man like some toddler. but no one can make him change but himself.

you weren’t madly in love with him, or blindly in love with him, you just… loved him. you are worried about him more than anything.

you could just… leave him. but what would that do to him? he’s not a stable minded person, he used to be but not now. something happened and and he hasn’t pressed the breaks on his accelerating problem.

your sticking around to make sure he actually takes care of himself, and doesn’t die, and of course the fleeting hope you’ll get back the old him. you were scared to leave him alone. that’s why you almost made up an excuse of being really, really sick to skip your own grandmothers funeral(!) and make sure he doesn’t do something life threatening. so really, you might have left for a couple days, but you didn’t have the break you needed.

you understand he’s mostly using you as his support for.. well everything, mentally and physically and everything in between. you drive him everywhere, you make sure he eats, sleeps, make sure he showers and things like that.

and what’s worse is he knows how bad of a state he’s in, and he may be one mean man, but at least he’s grateful for you.

he’s really not lying when he says he’ll go crazy if you ever leave him, your his support. will you ever leave him?….no.

you can’t, as much as your his support, he’s your support to. the two of you have been through so much together, you could never leave him. you think of him constantly. you may have gotten a break from life at home, but your brain was running wild with thoughts of “is he okay?”, “he’s not answering my calls, oh no”, “god, i hope he’s staying at home.”, “i hope he’s not somewhere dead”.

this may be illegal, but you had a tracker in his wallet. you don’t know how he hasn’t found it yet. he never goes anywhere without his wallet. is any of the money his? no. is it yours? yes. is he going to buy illegal substances with your money? yes.

that’s what he’s doing right now, at some playground a couple miles from the apartment you two share.

you turned your blinker on and pulled into the parking lot once cars had stopped coming. you saw him laying in the slide at the bottom with a couple of his “friends” around him. heaven only knows what he has his hands in now. you slung your door open and didn’t bother turning off the car or closing the door.

this is where you find him all the time, with his little group of friends that just keep feeding into his list of addictions.

he raised his head off the slide at the sound of mulch crunching, and when he saw you, he scrambled to his feet and practically lunged at you. he does this every time you come searching for him, and once you do find him , he’s all attached to you and crying, or he can be meaner than the devil. this time it’s the crying gig.

“you’ve been gone for four days! please! please don’t ever do that again!” ,he practically sobbed into your shoulder and if looks could kill, the other four sitting around the slide would be dead by now. you hated them, you hated them so much.

“did you at least make sure suguru ate.”, your words laced with a tone of hatred, and you believe if he wasn’t sobbing into your shoulder you would’ve kicked all their lunatic heads into the ground and happily taken assault charges.

“god lady, we’re not that bad, yes we made sure he ate, and we told him if he actually stayed at his house we’d let him have something speci-” he was cut off by spit coming in contact with his cheek bone. he was disgusted, appalled that you had spit on him, he wiped it off and got up to leave. his mini psychos followed.

you kicked him in his “man area” , before and he cried. because theres no way he has a real man area, he’s a pussy. they just tend to take your beatings and leave.

you rearranged the man on your shoulders and dragged him to the car, you put him in the front seat, after you moved your bag to the back and buckled him in.

you closed the door and went to the drivers seat, and closed your door. you had nothing to say, what was the point in lecturing him, again. and again. and. again.

he said your name quietly and turned to look at you while you pulled out of the small parking area and onto the street. “i really did do our daily schedu-”

you cut him off, not really wanting to hear him try and explain himself to you, “i believe you suguru.” was all you said the whole car ride. the “daily schedule” was just times when he needs to eat and take his meds.

and once you were home he had fallen asleep. you turned the car off and let your head hit the head rest behind you, and you closed your eyes. after a good minute you felt something touch your hand. you opened your eyes to find suguru trying to reach for your hand. he never reaches for you?

he wasn’t looking at you. he had his back facing you, like he was mad at you. so why is he still trying to reach for you?

you slithered away, and got out of the car before he could get a good grasp. you want him inside the house and out of this car.

once you got him positioned in a way that he can somewhat help himself walk, you dragged him up to the door, and unlocked it. you drug him to the couch and sat him down.

you turned around to go and get your stuff from the car, and once you came back you closed the door and locked it. you ran your stuff to your room, and quickly changed into some shorts and a tank top. you walked back into the living room and started taking his shoes off.

you then drug him to the bathroom, and helped him take the rest of his clothes off, they smelled awful. he sat on the toilet lid while you ran the bath. once it was half filled with warm water you helped him get in and sat him to where his back was facing you.

the first time he snuck out and you went searching for him, he smelled awful and needed a bath, you tried to get him to take one himself but he wouldn’t. you and him had never seen each other naked and you didn’t want to step over boundaries even at that stressful time. but when you heard the shampoo bottle fall and then him fall you have given him baths ever since.

it’s not awkward anymore. he doesn’t find it awkward anymore. it’s just something that needs to be done. you still have him wash his private areas because you feel that’s to far.

you picked up the shower head and got his hair wet, then you put some shampoo in your hands and went to washing his hair.

his hair was something you loved, you would sit and play with it for hours a couple years ago when you had first bought the apartment together. if he’d actually take care of it himself, and take regular showers, he would have beautiful, healthy hair again. but right now it was always greasy and had tats in it and was frizzy. you hated it.

you practically feel like your taking care of an old man. you do almost everything for him. you cook for him, you clean his clothes, you give him baths when he can’t take one himself, and you quite literally tuck this man into bed.

you do all of that, but when your at work, he sneaks off and goes to be with his buddies. every, single, day. and the days you stay home, you would think he’d be generous enough not to go out. but oh he’s not, he still walks right out of the house while your in the bathroom or something.

so the only time you know he’s safe, is when your physically taking care of him. and that’s why you don’t mind doing all these things for him. as long as he’s with you, alive and breathing, you don’t care what he needs from you. you just need him here, you can’t loose anything else.

you rinse his hair and the shampoo comes out and you put in the conditioner. while that’s setting you have him stand up, you rinse his body down, and then you grab the wash rag and began washing his body.

you wash his back and his arms, his chest,and his legs, but you ask him to wash everything else. 

once he’s done you take the shower head and rinse his body off, you then grab the stool, and step up on it. your not much shorter than him, but you need to reach the top of his head to rinse his hair off, and you don’t want him to sit back down into the dirty, soapy water.

you turned the water off and helped him step out, you then pulled the stopper out of the drain, and let the water out. you grabbed the towel and started drying his body off, then you dried up his back and put the towel on his shoulders so his hair would not drip down his back anymore.

you then grabbed the towel from below and started drying, and wringing out as much water from his hair as you could putting some product in it to help it not get frizzy, before you twisted it up into a clip. you grabbed a thick head band and pushed the rest of his loose hair in the front,back.

while you we’re doing that he was lazily drying the rest of himself off. and now that he was done, he grabbed your shoulders and you help him slip into some boxers and some shorts. you then had him sit on the counter and you stood in front of him and washed his face and put a cream that would help his sunken in face feel not as dry.

then he followed behind you out of the bathroom and to the kitchen.

it’s the same thing every time you come find him. so he at least remembers not to upset you, and just go with the flow and answer questions.

but this time, you hadn’t spoke a single word to him. you reached up into a refrigerator and pulled out two different kinds of soup. he pointed to the one on the left, tomato soup, and you went to warm it up. he just sat there on the stool waiting for you to say something, and waiting for his food since he’s kinda hungry.

once he heard the microwave beep, he looked up to see you putting your phone down and pulling the soup out. you placed it in front of him, with a ginger ale in a cup and a spoon. ginger ales make him feel better he says.

you then walked back to your room to change into more comfortable and warm clothes, and then you used the restroom and cleaned up in there.

he sat there slowly slurping at his soup. he’d always wish you’d just shut up and just take care of him. but now he wonders if your close to just not caring anymore. your questions are always those of wanting to know what he did, and occasionally you’d ask why he does those things. he never gives you and answer for that one.

you came out of the bathroom and headed to the kitchen, you warmed up the other soup that was in there. you took your soup out when it was done and grabbed your drink and a spoon. you were about to walk back to your room till you heard your name.

he called you name, his voice was back to normal, no longer high pitched and quivering. you stopped and turned your head to face him.

he wasn’t looking at you again only had his hand to the side of him almost asking you to come back and hold it.

“yes?” you questioned, knowing he wouldn’t say anything else you turned around again and walked off.

“can you sit?” he still didn’t look at you, only pulling out the stool next to him. you were shocked, after everything, you two usually part ways in your own home and eat. never had he asked for you to sit there and eat with him.

you were hesitant, until he said it again. you slowly walked over there and sat your stuff down. neither of you spoke, only eating.

somehow you both finished at the same time. you sat there for a moment before you took the plastic bowls, and threw them away, then took the cups and spoons and put them in the dish washer.

it was full, so you started it and then walked around the kitchen cleaning it up, and wiping down the counters. you walked behind him, going to the coat rack next to the door, to grab your wallet out of your jacket. but you were stopped by his voice.

“wh..wait” his voiced wavered at the beginning and came out strangled. you while you spun around in a panic, maybe thinking he was going to be sick or something.

when you saw he still wasn’t looking at you, you knew he wasn’t about to be sick. but you were stumped at what he did want.

he picked himself up, still keeping his head low, and walked over to you. he stood in front of you and his hand lazily reached for yours again. when he finally got ahold of your pointer and middle finger, he held his breath.

he hasn’t touched you in what feels like an eternity. you touch him all the time. but not once has he actually reached out himself.

he didn’t know if you were real or not. his hand kept moving around yours trying to get a good grip on it. he stopped moving completely when your hand lifted his chin to actually see his face.

“are you okay?” ,the words sounded so distant to his ears. he was certain his face was too pale, and the obvious red was showing. he hasn’t willing touched anyone himself, in forever, it’s foreign, and it’s giving him butterflies, the nervous and embarrassed ones.

he was embarrassed about being so… so close to someone on his accord. he’s used to you touching him, and he’s fine with it, but it feels different to actually touch you himself.

his hand continued up your arm. ‘they don’t have the softest skin, but they never really did’ he thought as he watched his hand travel all the way up your arm. he forgot how you had felt, the eczema on your arms were proof you were real. he continued to follow his hand and then it reached your shoulder and he froze.

there was that scar. the one he put there. as many times as you have reassured him that the past is now nothing you care about, and that you had forgiven him a long time ago. he’s still wary about it.

you couldn’t remember how long he had been sneaking out or how many times you had got him, but one night you had found him back at home, crumpled up on the floor shaking, you bent down beside him after calling his name a couple times and when he didn’t respond you put your arm around him to lift him up, he was holding a pocket knife, and not realizing it was you, grabbed your arm and plunged the knife into it. he screamed and cried when he realized it was you. he was so scared he vomited on the floor then he tried stabbing himself but you stopped him. that was a mess to clean up.

it wasn’t a big knife, but it had went deep, but healed quickly. he got even worse after that incident because he doesn’t understand why you still stayed. why are you not afraid of him like everyone else is?

now he remembers why he doesn’t touch you himself. you are afraid of him, is what he’s convinced himself. he pulls away quickly but you grab his wrist and he stops. you place his hand back on your shoulder, and you grab his face with your other hand.

“i’m not scared of you. stop thinking i am. if i was, you’d probably be dead somewhere. you need to stop being afraid of me though. your afraid of being around me or hurting me. you’ve got to realize that i don’t care about what you did anymore. please. i want you back.” you tried to speak in a calm voice, but your voiced started wavering.

“how can i be me with out him.” he still won’t believe that gojo is gone. he won’t believe it. he denies it more than anyone you’ve seen lose a loved one has. it’s been three years since he died. and three years since you’ve been taking care of him. three god awful years of this messed up shit.

“suguru, i genuinely think it’s time you talk about this situati-” you were cut off my him pushing you against the wall.

“i cant! it hurts so much to even think about what happened with him! i cant. i.. ca..i cant.” his arms fell off you and he let him self plop to the floor, his head down.

you slid down on the wall and crawled towards him. “i believe you could. but not right now, your still not in the right state of mind.”

you two sat there for a long time till he coughed and then looked up at you.

you were tired of this game. you had tried multiple times to knock some sense into him, but you were tired. you’re pulling your last game card tonight, and if it doesn’t work your calling the cops on him. it’s the last thing you want to do, but he needs a real eye opener.

so you take a deep breath and slip from sitting on your knees to cross cross on the floor, facing him. you scoot closer to him and take a deep breath hoping this will work.

“ remember that time satoru took me out to town and you were not allowed to come?” you said while his attention was on you.

he was silent for some time till you asked him if he had heard you, “yeah…i stayed home and ate his leftovers knowing it would piss him off.” he said as his hand came up to his face to wipe his cheeks.

“well come here and let me show you what he bought me that day”, you helped him off the ground and led him back to your room and sat him on the edge of the bed. you walked over to your closet and pulled out a little step stool and stepped up on it and reached to the top shelf where a medium sized gray safe sat.

you grabbed it and stepped of the step stool and scooted it back to where it came from. you opened the top drawer on your desk and grabbed the keys. you then walked over and sat it on the bed and turned the keys and opened it up. suguru kept trying to peek around you to see what it was. you turned around with two jewelry boxes in your hands. you sat down next to him on the bed and handed them to him.

he opened them and he couldn’t believe what he was looking at. a two promise rings! one a silver band with your birthstone wrapped around it, and the other a smaller silver ring with his birthstone sitting in the prongs of the ring. they were beautiful, he sat there and stared at them for the longest time. he didn’t understand why he couldn’t look away from them.

“gojo always knew we had crushes on each other from the first time we had english together freshman year of college. i asked him why he bought these if me and you weren’t even talking, he told me that he knows his best friend would be happy with me and he thinks we would be cute. he wanted me to ask you out at that one pool party he was going to throw the following week. but he had passed before it got there, and i just never felt that it was right to ask you.” you had to look away from the rings, you always got so upset when you looked at them. everything you three had was flushed down so fast nothing could’ve prepared you for it.

it was silent for a moment or two until you heard heaving breathing from beside you and a choked sob. you looked back and suguru was holding the ring up to you, like he wanted you to put your finger in it. you lifted your hand and the ring slid onto your finger and he started crying even harder.

you reached for his ring and you slid it on his finger and once you had pulled your hand back he set the boxes aside and sprung at you with arms circling around your waist and pulling you into him. you both fell back onto the bed and you kept yourself propped up with one elbow while the other one wrapped around him to comfort him.

he sobbed so hard he was shaking you. you kept rubbing your hand up and down his back the feeling of the ring on your finger being so apparent to him. the two of you laid there for quite some time before he sat himself up and pushed the loose stands of hair out of his face and looked at you.

“i’m so sorry. i don’t want to be like this, i ruined everything we ever had, satoru wouldn’t be happy if he saw how i’ve turned out and how i’ve treated you. i don’t want to be scared of anything anymore. it makes me sick to my stomach thinking about how awful of a person i am. i know i need help, im willing. i want this to work out. i miss you.” he reached for your hand with the ring on it and bumped it against his.

he thought about what it would be like if you were his but it was right this time. he wanted to do this right. he couldn’t wait for everything to be right. and more importantly he wanted to make gojo proud.

you pulled him in for a hug and this hug was a happy hug, not like the ones you’d give him to calm down after he’d had some panic attack because of the drug he took. no this one was sweet and happy like the old ones.

you both pulled away and he grabbed your hand and held it. you squeezed it and smiled a closed lip smile at him, and he smiled back.

✮

𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙖 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚:

the way i literally forgot about this and i’m just now remembering it(??). like just finished editing it and there’s still probably some mistakes but idk. no i am not romanticizing or glamorizing drugs or this behavior. i actually wrote this two years ago because i had a friend struggling that came to me and felt like i should write a story about how drugs change someone and the people around them. and this is to reach different people and help others realize that drugs are not okay, if your struggling please reach out, nothing is worth selling your life for. and this is showing two people who were close but pulled so far apart and then they came back together. i usually write happy stuff(no i dont) but angst was sitting in the back of my mind. anyways hoped you enjoyed this!!

also idk if this is really a “x reader” but i’m gonna tag it like it’s one

[uriekukistan]

how do you … hhow do yiu start writjng. like how do you. opening paragraph…. how do you begin..

sksjdj sorry this took so long, i genuinely rewrote my answer 3-4 times 💀 took me a few hours to figure out how i wanted to answer this tbh bc usually i don't even know what im doing either

also im by no means a perfect writer, i’m still working to improve with every fic, so pls take this w a grain of salt, everyone writes their own way as well…hopefully this isnt too long or annoying or preachy or anything.

i always have an outline of my fic ready before i start writing, regardless of if it's super vague or highly detailed, i also try to think about what the character(s) want from the situation(s) and potential ways that could create conflict (not in an angsty way per se but in a plot moving way). knowing this is super helpful for deciding where to start because different types of openings are good for different stories.

ideas i use a lot!

-> character intro! this is my most commonly used way to start a new story. i like to make sure my MC is in the first sentence so the reader knows who the story is going to focus on. this does have a potential to go wrong, bc essentially, there's the good way and then there's my immortal 💀

when i say to use a character intro, i mean like their mindset/beliefs as they pertain to the plot, main conflict they're facing, or how they're feeling at that moment, rather than "basic info"

ex: megumi fushiguro is 15, has black hair and green eyes, and he's a jujutsu sorcerer and is in his first year at jujutsu tech. in his free time, he reads. he loves animals. he was abandoned by his parents at a young age, so he's wary of others <- boring, bland, sparks 0 interest

VS: Megumi was never a fan of love. Not in books, not in TV shows, not in movies, and certainly not in real life. He hadn’t so much as considered having romantic feelings for someone in fifteen years of living, and he wasn’t about to start now. Definitely not now. Not after what had happened. <- interesting, gives insight into how megumi thinks (and how strongly), sparks interest bc what happened??

hsiao doesn't want to date a coworker because she has a dangerous job, but has a crush on saiko. urie can't express his feelings because he's spent ages bottling them up, and now he needs to grieve someone he didn't realize he cared for until it's too late. establishing these things is really important, and should be done eventually either way.

i think this method works best for stories focusing on a conflict that's more internal because it sets up the characters psyche, but can still be used for external conflict effectively!

-> dialogue: another one that can be tricky, and gets a bad wrap sometimes, but it can very much be used well. it's good to use if the story is focusing on interpersonal conflict, especially if it involves a lot of arguing. usually, i throw the reader into a high tension, fast moving scene with dialogue, sometimes one with a confrontational start, sometimes in the middle of an already brewing interaction.

-> strong feelings: this works best with negative feelings, so i use it mostly for reeeeaaaallly angsty fics. physical pain, extreme sadness or guilt, grief, rage, or high stress work really well for this, because they're feelings that tend to consume everything else. you gotta be ready to dedicate a few paragraphs to really good descriptions that make readers feel. it's a bit intimidating to write and has the potential to overwhelm readers as well, so i tend to reserve it for fics that i intend to be really heavy and upsetting, no happy ending/comfort type fics

-> straight into action: gonna be honest, i try to avoid this one as much as possible unless it's in a multi-chapter fic where the characters/conflict have been firmly established. used outside of this, i think it works best with actions that are literal beginnings, or it feels like part of the story is missing. things like waking up, opening a door (staring at a blank page trying to write..........)

lil tips ig

★ shorter sentences: my usual writing style has a lot of lengthy sentences, but when it's the first thing a reader sees, it slows down the pace immediately. of course, there's a place for long sentences as well, but the average reader is going to go for something that grabs their attention quickly.

★ u don't have to start from the beginning!! honestly i get this from writing academic essays, but sometimes it's easier to write the beginning after you wrote the rest because even if u think u know where ur going, it can change as u write it. tbh once i wrote fic almost entirely backwards 💀

slfkjgnkjnsfglk i hope this was at least somewhat helpful, honestly i wasn't sure what to say, but i'm really excited to see ur fic!!! ik u have a lot of things planned, so i'm sure once you get the first words out there, the rest will start flowing !!!