#every once in a while as a writer you wind up finding a character that just... clicks

[pastafossa]

hi pasta :) hope your week is going well so far !!

i dunno if you’ve spoken about this or been asked before (i apologise if you have) but i was just wondering how you always get matt’s characterisation so spot on?? if i didn’t know any better, i’d have thought you wrote the show. i can literally always picture him doing/saying the stuff you write <333

😭😭😭 This is like, an AMAZING compliment oh my god, thank you so much!

As for the question I'm not sure if I've talked about it before but ironically seeing it in my ask box triggered a discussion with sis. Like, I know there are folks who have a different take on Matt than mine. That's valid! So I don't want to be like... 'I did the research and delved and etc etc' because they do too. But eventually me and sis arrived at a conclusion that it's a few combos of things that makes Matt easy for me to click with:

A lot of psych classes in college that ironically I've used more for writing than anything else. This helped me understand some of how Matt's background of abandonment and trauma would potentially affect him and influence his coping techniques and behavior. I like learning psych stuff in general so that all wound up being an influence. I'll always recommend digging into this when working with characters!

I've watched Daredevil over and over and over and over and the more I've rewatched, the more I wind up picking up on new things and analyzing what Matt is thinking or feeling (bless Charlie for giving Matt so many little hints and fidgets and subtle touches of what Matt's internally feeling). This includes interviews, behind the scenes stuff, anything breaking down the why of Matt. I'm familiar with him at this point.

There are certain parts of Matt's character that I relate to incredibly strongly as a disabled person with chronic pain raised in the church, and also as someone who went through a long lonely period of depression where I felt very isolated, and then was afraid when I did finally make friends that they'd leave me. So. There's always an element with Matt that's like, 'ah I get it', this sense of resonation. I feel like that natural click with Matt really helped me when writing him, cause... been there, get the motivation, also dude needs to cry more and let that stress out, trust me.

This sounds weird but me and my sis love to break characters down, rip them apart to examine their insides. We love our favorite characters and talking about all their wholesome or badass elements, but we also gd love and have fun dissecting flaws, fuckups, the shadow self, character trauma, are they the asshole, is EVERYONE the asshole, what does this mean when he did this or that. The whole Pasta clan is immersed in that - Dad was a theatre major so got a lot of practice, Mom's loved lit forever, and we all have this tendency, so I got very comfortable very early with taking characters apart in a really honest way to figure out how and why they tick and what the writer/actor is trying to tell you. And since we've all seen Daredevil, and dad has also read a lot of the earlier comics, we've all more than once metaphorically laid Matt out on the table like a frog and dissected his character. I feel like having someone who's not only willing to talk about these layers with you, but also comfortable enough with you to kinda push back and go 'Or what if he was doing it because of this' or 'Ok yeah you love him but he was actually being the asshole here because *valid reason*' is important. Get you some allies who love to know why characters tick!

So basically lots of reading, really enjoying picking characters apart with fam, and familiarity, all mixed up in a bucket of 'Ooooh poor thing, I've been there and that was not fun. You really need therapy and maybe some antidepressants.'

[shaisuki]

DADDY'S HOME

FT. GOJO SATORU, NANAMI KENTO, TOJI FUSHIGURO, GETO SUGURU

content warnings: yandere themes, past mentions of abuse, noncon, baby trapping, dubcon, manipulation, stalking, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, ooc characters, crying, redemption arc?, murder, abuse, rushed writing. dead dove do not eat.

notes. my first post in april. been struggling for awhile and having writer's block plus having the new addition of two chunky puppies that looks like potatoes with legs. requests are slowly being worked on and i deeply apologize for the delay. thank you!

synopsis: long they searched for you and only to find out you have a child. their child. would they be still the same person who had hurt you or a changed man for the sake of your child?

GOJO SATORU

“where's your mom, little guy?”

there is no doubt about it. the child in front of him is his. it is like looking at the younger version of himself except for the hair, dyed black to conceal the snow-white hair identical to him. how fast can he come up with the conclusion that the child is his?

gojo was careful of the past hookups he got tangled with. there's no way he will knock some random stranger and be forced to take responsibility for a child he didn't want. there is only one person he did get pregnant, you.

his wife who escaped left him a few years ago with his unborn child growing inside your belly. funny how all those escape attempts you'd done in the past, you only succeeded once and that is when you're pregnant and then after that you disappeared like you didn't exist in his life but gojo isn't that willing to let you go. he will find you. there's no force or power in this life that can stop in him and only fate to intervene and guide him to you which leaves him in this current situation.

the sun begins to set and the clouds turned into a mix of oranges and red. the swing makes a creaking sound as it sways back and forth along with chains clanging with every move. resonating into the emptiness of the park and his son only ignores him. barely glancing at him while staring at the distance. waiting. waiting for his mother. waiting for his wife to pick him up.

gojo chuckles at the cold treatment his son have been giving him. hadn't been the most affectionate person just like when he's at that age. unforgiving and arrogant. he looked at the ground beneath him. a brief memory flashes by before looking at his son again. leaving the swing at a flash and sprinting towards someone. he follows the little boy and gojo smirks. fate do favor him.

“mama!” your little boy called to you. almost jumping in your arms and you fumbled a bit. balancing the plastic bags in your hold to pick up your son. threading his hair with your fingers and kissing his forehead like you always do.

“satoshi! sorry for making you wait. mama had errands to do. how are you?” in which your son looks at you with a huge grin in his face. making you smile in return and he whips his head to look at the swings and you followed his sight. there he is, your nightmare. the reason you have your son.

the temperature drops with every second as the wind blows stronger. you hugged your son tighter to you. your body freezing with your mind telling you to run and with a deep breath. you squeezed your son before taking a step backwards and turning around. never looking back.

he watched as his son went to you and you picking him up and you realizing that he's near you. just within arm's reach and that fear coming from you. good to know he still have a hold on you.

calm down! you tell to yourself while you carried satoshi away from that man. you know you can't hide from him forever. you will just run again. no matter how many times. you did it once — what's the difference of doing it again.

you write a mental note to yourself to pack your bags after this. you're not going back again to him, not with your child. you don't want him to go through the same things he put you through. he was already dead to your son and to you and he's merely a ghost who terrorizes you. when you got home, you made sure to lock all your doors before making dinner and tucking your son to bed and then you grab the bags.

after packing up the last necessities, you slowly trudged your way up to your son's room and your heart drops when you see him looming besides your son's sleeping figure.

“quite bold of you.” he began to speak and your lips tremble. he didn't face you and kept looking at his son. your face bereave with anger. “s—” the words die out before he interrupted you.

“going as far to dye my boy's hair. almost thought he's not mine and thinking you found yourself another man to take care of you. breaks my heart to kill him and take you.” caressing his son's hair. satoshi remained asleep despite the scene unfolding.

“satoshi doesn't need someone like you. we don't need you. stay away from him. from us.” you murmured. careful not to wake satoshi up and find his father. you don't need someone like gojo to be around satoshi.

“can't i?” said satoru. slowly standing up and making his way to you. “cause the last thing i remember, you were still mrs. gojo. pregnant with my baby.” you let out a silent yelp when he suddenly hugged you.

“let go.” you firmly warned him. squirming from his grasp but he only held you tighter. “i won't. now you're here with me. you don't know how much i have missed you.” he breathes out. his hand in the back of your head until it slowly descends on your back. squeezing the dips of your hips and you silently gasp. trying to keep the tears at bay. his nose in the pulse of your neck. breathing in your scent. “you won't deny me.” he whispers and before he could fully go down in you. he hears the bed creak, followed by someone shifting and a sniffle coming from his son. his hold got loose on you and with that, you pushed him off. joining his son in his bed to comfort him.

satoshi sniffles, his eyes fluttering and showing the blues that he inherited from his father. “mama?” he calls you and you immediately shush him. “mama's here, satoshi.” you coo. pulling the covers and tucking it beside you and satoshi latched into you. his eyes beading with tears. “it's just a nightmare, satoshi. nothing's going to hurt you.” you lied. there's only one who could hurt you both. the man who put you in hell for his own. he can do that to satoshi too and you won't let him.

although gojo had longed and wanted to take you there at the moment, he let you tend to his son. set aside the urges of longing for you who left him. a discovery he just had found hours ago. he's a father now. his back presses at the cold wall behind him and he melts at the tender moment before him. this is what you had been doing for the last five years and is it that long. five years. five years had gone by and he missed it. he wasn't there to take care for you and watch his child grow up. you stole the years and the moments where he could be with you and his son.

there's the gnawing feeling that eats him inside. the betrayal simmering in his chest the day you left him, days after he received the news that you were carrying his heir. it feels like an eternity after that.

when satoshi finally settled and you can hear the tiny snores coming from him. you slowly removed yourself from his side. it took awhile to pry his hands clutching your top before replacing it with a pillow. you kiss him in the forehead and it's finally to face him.

you're beneath him. his head hung low while he stares deeply at your eyes. both of your hands are pinned beside you. he glances at your bedside table. littered with pictures of you and satoshi. it makes his heart bleed to see him absent from all of it. he wasn't even there to see satoshi as a baby, taking his first step and see him grow to what he is now. it's all because you choose to leave him.

“you raised satoshi well.”

“i did. i'm not raising satoshi with you around.”

gojo hums, “oh, really? he didn't ask who might be his father is?” quite curious about it and he knows what you're about to answer and you didn't disappoint.

“i did. told his father was dead because you don't exist to us. to satoshi. why bother with us who don't want you?” you bravely stared back at his eyes and you thought this is going to be satoshi when he grows up to be satoru's age.

“i am bothered with it. my wife leaving me out of the blue with my child inside you. i told you, didn't i? i will always find you.”

you take a deep breath to keep the tears from spilling out of you. “five years. five years, satoru. you should have moved on. find another woman who can give what you want.”

“they can't if they are not you. why would I want myself another one when i know my wife and child are alive. how could you be so cruel to me, (y/n). you're my one and only.” gojo holds your cheek in his one hand while his eyes roam to your face and then landing in your lips.

he's been dying to kiss you for a long time and he can do it again. it feels like the first time he had kissed you. soft. gentle and sweet. it hurt him a bit to see you bite your lips with your eyes closed but he didn't care. he knows this was also the same way you reacted when you both created satoshi.

a familiar warmth creep up on him. his once cold heart melting at the contact of your lips against his. heart thrumming in slow beats. shallow breaths fans your skin and he gazes at you, with the same adoration present in the blues of his eyes.

“leave, satoru.” you protested but gojo ignores it. “no, i won't. you're stuck with me.” you cry softly when he kisses you again. hands wandering all over your body and whispering filth of how he missed your body.

“satoshi's sleeping next room.” he shushes you. “i know, that's why we have to keep quiet. you sure can manage that, mochi?” he didn't change with his nicknames and you were left weak and hopeless against his touches.

that night he ravaged you. marking the expanse of your skin. praising how you were still his wife and you never changed. the plushness of your body and just everything about you. motherhood is kind to you. he says. your body is made for him, nurturing his child and you freeze when he talks about putting one on you again. saying that he will give the next his all love with you present and you will both take care of satoshi and his sibling. you were terrified. tasting freedom once and he's back on you again to take it. escaping will be harder and you don't think it'll allow you with again.

in a blink of an eye, you were in your own prison again. you find yourself staring at the familiar garden and you think five years will change it. he kept it the same as the last when you left with promises that you will both be watching as your children played.

satoshi's hair had gone to its natural color. he's the spitting image of his father much to his delight but his child remained wary of him. even he's staring at the older image of him. he remained by your side.

“will i have a baby brother, mama?” he asks you while you were resting. “i don't know, satoshi. do you want a baby brother?” caressing your swollen belly and you fought the tears. satoshi noticing the tears pooling in your eyes, instantly expresses his concern. “no...no. mama is just a bit tired, satoshi. don't you worry about it, okay?” you assure him. ��is it the baby?” you nodded at his question. he pouts at your answer. “then i don't want a baby brother.... or a sister!” he exclaims before jumping to hug you.

“satoshi, don't be mean to your baby brother or sister.” your husband pulls satoshi from you. “i hate who makes mama cry.” gojo chuckles at him. “me too, satoshi. let's protect your mama, shall we?” he embraces your son. satoshi nods, and you die a little inside.

you will spend the next years playing house with him with a new addition to this family. you still can't accept this. his words haunts you and you just can't.

gojo caresses your belly. looking at you with a smile on his face. “can't wait for this little one to arrive.” he says to you and you crack a smile at him. the thought of escape no longer lingers in your mind. not that you can think when you have a child with him and one coming.

NANAMI KENTO

nanami didn't take you leaving him to be so distressing. his life revolving around you and a baby on the way. it's going to be complete. a life with you and it took one night for you to leave him without a trace and so he goes back to working overtime.

the first days were grueling. searching for everywhere. going as far in finding information with your relatives who had given up on finding you. there's no sign of you. he spent the days and night thinking about you. worried about how you're doing without him. what about the baby? if the baby was to survive and reach the age of consciousness will his child think of him? the thoughts are endless and he don't think he can live another day without you.

the fluorescent lights are too bright for his eyes that has been drowned by the darkness of his room. his headaches becoming unbearable as the minute passes by and the stench of the hospital adding to his already dulled senses. cheeks hollowed with his sunken eyes. dragging his step to move forward. he shouldn't be here but if he wants to continue his job, a prescription would be nice from a professional.

after a scolding from the older doctor, balding with a pot belly. yapping about his health while he wrote his prescription. consisting of vitamins and stuff he didn't bother to read cause he will only give it to the pharmacist and continue his own source of living.

he was nearing the exit when a particular sign caught his sight. pediatric & maternity ward. he stops for a moment. wondering if you were here and he's accompanying you to get the first check up of your pregnancy and then an appointment for your ultrasound. hear the first heartbeat of his child and know the due date of you giving birth.

it's almost a year since you left him and he was to blame. nanami knows it was wrong to keep you for himself. telling that the outside world is dangerous for someone like you and he's facing the consequences of hurting you.

you must have given birth at this day and the baby must be four-months old. his heart grows heavy the more he thinks of you and his child. he began to walk away, the ward giving him pain and the regrets showing up. before he could step outside the doors from the ward opens and he hears a voice that he misses dearly.

when he turned around, he had to rubbed his eyes to ensure his vision wasn't playing him. there you stood, a nurse assisting you and talking on what he can assume as good wishes to you.

his breath hitches and when the nurse bid you farewell before going back to her duties. you smile back at the nurse and your attention is back in your baby. adjusting the blanket to provide warmth for the infant and when you were contented from it, you raised you head to look at your way. beginning to walk and you notice him.

you stopped when you recognize him. out of all the places to meet him, a hospital it is. worst is — you have your baby with you. hesitating to move forward or turn around and look for a another exit but it's him. it's nanami. you couldn't forget him and his ways of making you feel trapped.

what feels like an eternity and standing like a statue you continued to walk. abandoning the fear of being under him again. you could just ignore him and go home and so you did.

it hurts so much to let you go and he didn't have the strength to confront you. knowing that you'll run again and he don't want to scare you and make things worst. it pains him and yet, he was at peace. a heavy weight being lifted from his chest and he thinks he can breath properly again.

it took him awhile to get back in his daily routine when you were still around. he'd gotten better. there's no longer the dark lines under his eyes and he seems productive nowadays. he knows you won't take him back and he can't do that again to you. he won't give you a reason to loathe him again — not when his child is present in both of your lives.

he got your address effortlessly and now, he's standing in front of your door. holding a bouquet of flowers and he's adjusting his tie before knocking in your front door. he hears the shuffle of feet and the lock clicking. revealing yourself in front of him.

in a span of a year, you slowly managed to get back on your feet. body aching while you wash yourself clean and heal the wounds you inflicted in yourself while you were in his captivity. you needed to change — if you were going to bring this baby in the world. a brand new start for yourself.

when you met him that day at the hospital with his child cradled in your arms. it won't be too long for him to get you back and you feared for the safety of your child. you know nanami isn't that heartless but considering how could he be selfish at times — you knew what fate would await for your daughter.

not until he came knocking at your door. you weren't prepared for it and you did what only you can do — shut the door. it didn't happen, his arm blocking the door. “please, darling. let me explain.” he pleaded and it kinds of break your heart to hear him pleading but you're too hurt to give in. “leave us alone, kento.” you say to him but he's persistent.

he won't be leaving anytime soon, you think and maybe he'll force his way and escalate into something that can harm you or your child and you give in. you pull the door open and nanami sighs in relief when you opened the door for him.

“what do you want?” you bite your tongue when you said it. he didn't need to answer, you know what he wants.

“can we talk?” although he's a little worried about how you will react about it considering his past mistakes and he knows you're not going to open up at him anytime soon.

he didn't missed the change in your attitude. what hostility forming into you change into something of a hesitation. chewing into your lips as you decide whether you were ready to talk to him until you nodded. granting him to explain what he was about to say to you.

“come inside.” you softly mutter as you turned your back around him.

the full force of his regrets came crashing down at him from how the way you treat him. a reflection of how he badly treated you from shielding you against the world when it was him who was truly hurting you.

“so...” you started to speak at him. “what brings you here?” why are you this!? you thought to yourself. screaming internally at the the questions you were asking to him. how come you are this weak when it comes to this. you needed to be strong. prepare for the worst.

“you. i came here for you and for the baby. forgive me, darling but is the baby mine?”

you flinch when he questioned your baby's parentage and the bottled up feelings you were suppressing instantly bursting into the scene.

“is the baby yours?...” your words drawl out. “is the baby yours!? i didn't know that you could be this stupid, kento?! you kept me chained for years and knocked me up with your baby and you question me about her! how could you....?” so much for suppressing the feelings you couldn't say to him for a long time.

a wave of regret washes over him and you were right. he is stupid. you were crying because of him again. you were shaking like a leaf while tears continuously flowing out from your eyes. your sobs are muffled and tears are soaking his shirt. his chin resting in the top of your head while he held you close. he wishes he could take your pain. redeem himself from his old ways of treating you bad.

“you come here telling me you want me back and you want to be a part of her life.....” days. nights. you were thinking of him despite what he had done to you. “i told you, i didn't want her. didn't want a child for me to raise... cried myself to sleep every night after escaping you.” it was true. how you feel your baby growing inside you every seconds of your life, it terrified you. thinking how can you raise the baby.

kento's eyes softened. he didn't know it would hurt so much like he felt when you left him. you were getting the brunt of it more than he did. he thinks back from the days of how he treated you and the whole duration of your pregnancy and you giving birth alone. you must been so scared and alone.

all of that, the words of what you said sinking deeper in his skin. remorse and regret is evident in his face while he held you.

“i didn't know.” he whisper, his voice above a breath. “i didn't know you felt that way, darling.” the endearment of what he used to call you and calling you again with it again cause more tears to spring in your eyes. oh, how you love and hate him at the same time.

“i didn't know i could hurt you this bad, i—i was only thinking that if i have you back, everything will be fine. i didn't realize i was hurting you this much.”

he slowly moves away from you. reaching tentatively to hold your hands and his heart breaks to see the face he loves so much to be this hurt. “i want to make things right, darling.” there's a slight tremor in his voice. “i know i can't undo what i had done to you, but please, let me be here for you, for our child.” he holds your hands gently. “i'll do whatever to earn your forgiveness.” you were taken aback from all of it but deep down you could never trust him or forgive him. you didn't respond and you can only shake your head not until you hear crying in the nursery room where your baby sleeps.

“if you want to be better, leave us.” you began to walk away and as much nanami wants to snatch you again, you stop in your tracks. “and maybe, i'll let you back to us.”

“for now.” you added.

he kept true to his words. it's hard but it can never compare of what you had been through and he respects the boundary you were setting. he sent you flowers during the time he wasn't around and it was not enough, he needed to see you and when he did, he was granted to see his daughter, hold her in his arms.

the baby looks like you except for the blonde hair and it was just like he dreamt. a family with you. she's perfect. perfect as her mother who graced him with her presence and this baby, he will protect this child with you.

he finds you crying. masking it as dust getting in your eyes but nanami knows you like the back of his hand. after tucking his daughter back to her crib, he joins you. sitting beside you and it broke his heart a million pieces knowing you were still in the process of forgiving him.

he's a father now but he is still your husband. “i'm so sorry, darling.” he whispers, holding your hand in his. pulling you closer to rest your head in his shoulder but nanami had longed to kiss you again.

he cups your face in his hands. caressing your round cheeks and despite wanting to recoil from his touch and avoid his gaze, some part of you wants to be held like this and you can't lie to yourself that you missed him despite everything. tough love it was or is it there still love in that?

“let me make it up you.” you shaked your head. closing your eyes and a tear escaped from the corner of your eye. nanami frowns. sighing before pressing his forehead into yours for a moment before pulling away to kiss your forehead.

this is nothing, he will endure it for a very long time until he can be yours again.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

he call it a happy accident. toji happens to beat that self-proclaimed sorcerer piece of shit and now, that shit is meeting his creator. he pays the body no mind when that leather wallet of this weakling drops beside his body. well, it's not the body is only cold. he expects to find some cold, hard cash there and he gets more than that. a picture of his wife and toji clicks his tongue. kicking the son of a bitch's body. annoyed that his wife is playing house with a another man that didn't even manage to put a scratch on him.

an idea appeared in his mind and toji smirks. he could pay this wife of his a visit. you would be so happy to meet him.

he came knocking at your door and the look you expressed is the best you can ever muster in a true horror of him finding you, it didn't disappoint.

“hey there wife. remember me?” he said in the most cocky voice he can muster and look at you, you're almost shaking in your boots but toji is surprised as you are when you were holding a toddler in your arms. a dead ringer of him. round, emerald eyes with the same eyelashes and face as his. clutching your blouse with a pacifier in his mouth.

his sight narrows to his son and to you. his once surprised face being replaced with a bored look and you couldn't even bring yourself to close the door. you don't know what he's thinking and so he got you when you're weak.

“you birthed a brat and it's mine?” it's not a question really when he comes doing this. his hard body pressed against your soft one. trapped in the cold table where you prepare him tea. insisting that he's a guest in your house and you must be a good host to serve him.

toji sighs, a low grunt coming from him. “you could be so mean if you want to. hiding my child and you come playing house with a man you replaced me with.” your blood runs cold with every words he said and the hands wandering all over your body until it came creeping below your blouse and his rough hands are squeezing the flesh of your stomach. you closed your eyes shut.

“he's a good man. which you will never be and you killed him.” your lungs contracts before releasing a breath that will took you days, months or for years to tell him that and you said it in one breath.

his eyebrows twitch. a look of disdain dawning in his face. just because you tasted freedom and you're acting like a goddamn independent bitch. you deserved to be punished.

the tea's now forgotten cold. you're pinned in the counter top with toji's cupping your jaw in a deathly grip. the skin of your wrist turning into a another shade. the circulation cut off and it begins to numb.

“who said about me being good man? he's a weakling who can't even protect himself and that weakling lead me to you and you're his what? his bitch? a body to warm his bed? when you should be doing it to mine!? you're one ungrateful bitch.” toji chuckles and he smirks triumphantly.

“my kindness needs to be paid, princess.” and here he goes calling you with the spiteful nickname to you.

he didn't give you the time to reply and forcefully kissed you. you almost choked at his whole body weight crushing your own. you couldn't even move your face to the side and reject that kiss of him. you didn't need him and your mind froze thinking of megumi.

you don't want him to see you in this position with his father. you kissed back, giving him what he wants so you can tell him. resistance is futile with megumi present in your life now.

toji grunts. you can feel him smile against your lips and when he breaks the kiss. you stare at him with your eyes pleading. “megumi.” and toji got the message of what you're talking. he glances at the door of the kitchen and he can the tiny shadow of his son walking, although a little wobbly and using the walls to balance himself. he scoffs at his son, ruining his reunion with his mother and toji is quite annoyed by it but it didn't stop him from feeling proud of birthing his son.

toji lets you free and your knees wobbled, giving out on you and you were left kneeling at the cold floor. megumi spotted you and in his own steps made his way to you in which you hugged him tightly.

“you ain't going to introduce him to his old man, wife?” you pursed your lips at his question and ignored him. rubbing megumi's back and shutting his father out and it ticked toji to just take his son away from you but resisted the urge to do so. knowing he can use this to keep you to him again. you would be so obedient with a little threat.

“careful now. you don't want me taking our little megumi away from you.” he warns. “now, put megumi to sleep and we can continue this little reunion of ours.” you nodded and you immediately scamper away from him and you see the front door. you can run but he'll catch you. you accepted your fate now and you would take the brunt of his punishments cause you're a disobedient wide who didn't care about your husband's desire.

it would be a waste to chain you again. toji thought. you're a mother now and he got a son with you. he don't want any interfering from how you will raise his son. he couldn't think about anything and maybe after you put megumi to sleep. he could think the ways he could keep you by his side again. for now, he'll just be a little patient and he can have you again for himself again.

GETO SUGURU

it was a mix of being ashamed and scared.

you knew this day will come when suguru and his child will reunite once again. the last he seen you was a baby bump visible in your dress in which he was happy. it did take root. a new lineage for the age of sorcerers.

dusk beginning to settle in the skies and you were supposed to fetch your son in the front yard telling that supper is ready and to your surprise. you found suguru standing tall, head low to face your son. a smile plastered in his face the whole time talking to your son and then he notices your stiff figure standing in the pavement before slowly walking towards them.

“i am your father. did your mommy told you that?” he asks and your son is processing what the words could mean. taking a glance between you and to his father. waiting for an answer in which you remained silent and only to tell him to go inside and wait for you.

suguru smiles. the smile that you hadn't seen for years and you can't deny that it still have an effect on you. “missed me, (y/n)?” the curse user spoke to you. his black and long hair swaying in the rhythm of the gentle breeze blowing.

“not really.” you honestly said to him and suguru's eyes changes into something dark from how you responded. “guess you got tired of all that luxury or everything's not enough for you.” he tuts. following the changes that is present in your face but he only received a curt shake of your head.

how shallow is that. you were like a pet to him. something he owned. a possession. he didn't like you being you and so you were lavished with expensive stuff that would keep you chained from the compound and to his little family. family. one you never had and never truly belonged in his place however you laid with him every night and the result, your son. living and breathing.

once you found out you were with child. it was a realization that you were never free and it hit you that this child will suffer the same fate as you and so you walked out. never looking back with the sole intention that you will raise this child with a perspective of the world and not to be influenced. his own and so you lived for years in peace until he showed up.

a shiver went down your spine from the contact of his fingers tracing to your soft jawline. electric and shocking. with a touch you will obey him but it's different. you're a mother now and something so good will only bring you to your own demise and it will extend to your child.

it is but you missed him touching you. a slave for his affections and you weren't really different from your past self. mustering the courage is the same as surrending yourself from the man who you treated as your world.

closing your eyes and you raised your head to meet suguru's eyes. purple it is. “you would understand why i left you, suguru. i can't raise ryū in that place.”

“and you think excluding me from ryū's life will change it?” not breaking eye contact while he caress your round cheek.

“yes. you're mad suguru and i can't change that.”

suguru chuckles. how motherhood impacted your ways of thinking. finding it so endearing to see you standing up and you wouldn't believe it that he's much more in love with your or whatever he was feeling. he knows it's bad for him and to you. “look at that, motherhood did you good. mad? i'll show what's mad, my dear wife.” he leans to whisper something to your ear. “i will let this go once and then prepare yourself. you will be back to me and with ryū, there's no chance of turning your back away from me.” he softly threatens to you and it weighs heavier. a contrast of the mellow tone of voice he was using.

“see you soon, (y/n).” kissing your cheeks before waving a hand to say goodbye to your son who was staring behind the windows.

suguru left after that and you knew what's about to come and you wished none of that will happen but suguru was always true to his words and you abandoned hope.

he will come back.

[alyslittlehaven]

In What We Keep Chapter 1 - A Fires Warmth.

DragonBorne!Reader X Azriel Shadowsinger.

One fateful night after a mission, the three bat brothers need to seek refuge from the cruel winds past the mountains of Illyria, after a little debating, Azriel decides to take his brothers to the slice of life he took for himself

Warnings: Self Made Fae Race, swearing, talks of sex/sexual interactions, lewd jokes and or conversations, Pregnancy, Pre-established Relationship, mates, fated, Soft Azriel, secret relationships and more ACOTAR IS NOT MY BOOK, NEITHER ARE THE CHARACTERS

(This is short due to my writer's block hitting hard, also- ignore my horrible writing in this I don't have the greatest imagination right now lol.)

“This storm isn’t going anywhere, Az.”

Cassian’s voice strained as he squinted through the heavy snowfall. Their footsteps behind them quickly being covered up as they continued on through the cold. Cassian groaned, his body shivering harshly.

 Azriel grunted as he tightened the fur that hung around his body. The black dire wolf pelt kept out the wind just for a little longer as the snow picked up around them all. Azriel looked over his shoulder, his hair swaying lightly in the wind as his brothers stopped behind him. There was no way they could continue on like this. Flying in this weather would be a death wish and the creatures that they were hunting were extremely sensitive to magic. Their noses picked up the slightest bit of arcane and followed it like it was food. 

The snow continued to whip around them. Azriels wings shifting as the wind blew in between the membrane and his back. The cold slowly seeps into his bones as the three of them pick up the pace once again. Rhysand let out a huff, looking around slowly and yelling over the blizzard. “There is no way we can get to RoseHall like this, let alone the camps! We need to find shelter!” Cassian nodded, looking at Azriel with a pleading look. Rhysand was right, there was no way the storm was going to let up, and if anything was just getting worse the longer they walked. Rosehall was nowhere on the other side of the mountain and the winds of Illyria were unforgiving to travellers during the summer months. What would happen to the three of them if they continued to trudge through the snow?

Cassian crossed his arms, his lips turning blue as they stood still huddled together. His wings spanned out and fluttered to get the snow off of them. The weight on his shoulders now dispersed as her shook himself off. Azriel looked around, looking for any kind of landmark that could tell him where they stood on the mountain. His eyes locked into a bundle of lights in the distance. A relieved breath left him as he saw the small, broken sign with a carved dragon egg on it. 

His brows furrowed as he thought, his arms wrapping around himself as he took a couple of steps. Dread slowly made its way to his stomach as he realized where they were heading.

He could bring them into his home. The small cabin he had built with his own hands inside of the heart of the hearth. The home that his mate was in while he stood out in the cold with his brothers. Her body probably curled up on the couch with that ugly knitted blanket she made draped over her as a book remained under her nose. The fire probably roaring in the fireplace and leaving the room in a nice orange glow.

Azriel sighed, quickly pulling up his hood before beginning to move in the direction of the light,. His voice hoarse as he spoke. "I have somewhere we can stay. if you don't mind walking for a bit more, that is." Cassian rolled his eyes, his feet moving without him having to think about saying yes or no as he followed his brothers closely. 

“Azriel…where are we going?” Rhysands teeth chatters, his breaths coming out as fog due to the cold. His whole body nearly froze at the question. He had worked so hard to keep this part of his life a secret from his family. The relaxing life he came to every night and woke up the day after next to. The happy cabin he filled with love and work that he made sure he separated his work life from his mate. His wonderful, beautiful mate pressed kisses to his hand when he came home from work and tried out new Illyrian recipes so he would feel at home in the hearth. The best woman he had met, and the calmest. They had spoken about it a few times, introducing her to his family and the inner circle, and despite her wanting to meet them he just didn’t want to yet. Wanting to keep her to himself just for a little longer.

“To…a friend's house. She lives right up here in this cabin.”

Rhysand and Cassian looked at each other, a small shrug was all Cassian responded with as they walked up the stairs of the porch. Azriel quickly opened the door, the wood creaking under his weight as he ushered the two in. A frown on his face as he shut the door behind them. “Y/n?” Azriels voice carried through the small cabin, some shuffling in the distance going dead silent.

“I’ll be there in a second love!” A couple of pans knocked together before she walked into the hallway, a small pep in her step now that she saw who was in her home. Cassian, ever the gossip, repeatedly hit Rhysands arm like a teenage girl. A smirk on his face as he raised an eyebrow at Azriel.

Rhysands jaw dropped as she untied her apron, the large and evident bump now on full display as she put down the fabric and pressed a hand to her stomach. Her eyes raked over the two unfamiliar men with a gentle smile. "You must be Azriels brothers...welcome to the Hearth. Come- Sit down, please."

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Tip: The Central Dramatic Question of Your Story

The central dramatic question is the story engine driving your narrative, a question that should always be at the forefront of your viewers’ or readers’ minds. 

Each act of your story should try to answer this question, but it shouldn’t be easy—once the dramatic question of your premise is answered, the story is essentially over.

The dramatic question has to do with the central conflict involving your protagonist.

It is usually introduced in the first act of your novel or screenplay, either at the inciting incident of your story or shortly thereafter.

Readers want an answer to the dramatic question, and it’s the writer’s job to ensure the solution isn’t simple.

The dramatic story question often takes the entire book to answer, and each plot point or turning point that occurs must be in service to answering that same question while holding the audience’s attention.

How to Find the Dramatic Question of Your Story

Every good story has a major dramatic question to answer. To find out what that is, you must figure out what the single driving force behind your narrative is.

What is the central character’s objective, and will they succeed at achieving it?

The answers to these questions inform the structural spine of your whole narrative, propelling your characters towards their main goals—which are usually external goals, something tangible that can be outwardly obtained by the protagonist and seen by the audience.

Will the main characters end up together? Will the superhero stop the bad guy?

The key to finding the dramatic question to your story is knowing your protagonist’s concrete goal and if they’re going to achieve it.

Examples of Dramatic Questions

Some famous examples of dramatic questions posed in plays, novels, and film:

Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare (1595): Will Romeo and Juliet overcome their family’s rivalry to live happily ever after?

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum (1900): Will Dorothy ever leave the magical land of Oz and make it back home to her small town in Kansas?

Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell (1936): Will Scarlett O'Hara win Ashley Wilkes?

The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris (1988): Will Clarice Starling be able to stop serial killer Buffalo Bill?

The focus of a dramatic question can vary depending on the genre you’re writing.

For instance, if you’re writing romance, the question centers around whether or not the love interests will end up together.

If you’re writing fantasy or sci-fi, the question is usually about whether the protagonist will be able to save the world and its people.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[weaselandfriends]

do you know of anything with a similar "clockwork storytelling" style of plot development that you used to described act 5 in hymnstokes?

I'm glad you asked this, because this is a concept I've kept in my mind for a long time.

The most obvious well-known examples of clockwork storytelling that come to mind are the films of Edgar Wright, with Hot Fuzz in particular standing out. Edgar Wright's style is that every detail and line of dialogue, no matter how seemingly inconsequential, comes back later to mean something more than it initially seemed. There is no wasted space, nothing extraneous or unneeded. It is all extremely tight and extremely satisfying to see play out.

Film in general, having significant restraints in terms of length, is often subject to this style, though at differing levels of complexity. What is so exciting about Act 5 of Homestuck is that it manages this style while juggling a zillion different characters and plot threads, so when the pieces all slot together it has the sprawling sense of a symphony with hundreds of individual performers working together at once. But I would argue that even something like, say, most Pixar films follow an ethos of extremely tight plotting with minimal extraneous elements. Pixar operates at a smaller scale, so it doesn't overwhelm with magnitude the way Homestuck does, but it still creates that feeling of satisfaction via structural perfection.

Another good example is Rick & Morty. Dan Harmon is an Edgar Wrightian who has his own personal "hero cycle"-style plot structure he likes to stick to, and that level of plotting is on display in most episodes of the first few seasons of the show. What makes R&M an interesting example, though, is the intrusion of Justin Roiland's influence. Roiland is like, a dumbass stoner whose storytelling ethos seems to be to adlib goofy noises into a mic, which is completely at odds with Harmon, but it complicates the otherwise simplistic story template and wound up creating some of the show's most quotable moments (wubba lubba dub dub).

I like works that fuse intricate and satisfying plotting with bizarre and difficult-to-grasp or even contradictory aesthetic decisions like that. My two favorite anime, Puella Magi Madoka Magica and Blood-C, both fall into that camp, and both times it's due to the utterly opposite aesthetic dispositions of the show's respective directors and writers. Madoka, for instance, balances Gen Urobuchi's tight, almost mathematical plotting (the show has a major plot development nearly every 3 episodes on the dot) with Akiyuki Shinbo's surreal and eccentric visual style. The visuals wind up complicating what would otherwise be a perfectly-composed but possibly quite dry narrative. Blood-C, a less well-known show, similarly combines a rather simple narrative by CLAMP -- where every event and line of dialogue gestures toward a major twist revealed at the end of the show -- with a manic, sleazy gorefiendery from Tsutomu Mizushima, the director of Bludgeoning Angel Dokuro-chan.

When it comes to clockwork narratives at the scale of Homestuck, it's harder to find examples. Of course, Homestuck is itself faking being a clockwork narrative, which I think I talked about in my old Hymnstoke posts. Homestuck's style is to simply toss out so many details that even by calling back to only a third of them it creates the impression via volume alone that it was all planned out and deliberate. A great example is John's toy chest. It contains some items like the Sassacre book that have a recurring purpose in the narrative, some items like the trick handcuffs that have one notable callback use (when John's Dad escapes captivity using them), and some items that only briefly reappear in the background of later panels. It also contains one item, the fake blood capsules, that never show up again (at least John's fake blood capsules don't; there are some fake blood capsules used by Dave's Bro during the whole puppet Saw misadventure). Hussie has only really meaningfully called back to a few of these details, but has created the impression he has called back to a lot of them, because there are simply so many.

In reality, Homestuck, even Act 5 Homestuck, is laden with extraneous and useless details. Most of the trolls are useless, which is why so many of them are glibly killed off. I used to think the only truly important troll to the narrative was Vriska, and by extension any troll that was important to Vriska, such as Terezi. Now, though, I realize that Vriska's breaking-the-game-for-personal-satisfaction shtick was hijacking Rose's whole bit. Rose was constantly seeking ways to break the game or exploit its boundaries. This ultimately culminates in nothing. Rose goes "grimdark," a completely meaningless state that causes her to be goth for a scene or two, and then that's over with and she becomes an essentially ancillary character for the rest of the story, useful only for a few bits of exposition. Even if we ignore the Act 6 part of that, it's a completely pointless set up with no payoff. Rose questioning the game and trying to break it leads nowhere. All the important game breaking is done by Vriska.

I think you could easily do a troll-less rewrite of Homestuck where the only major difference is that Rose is the one who creates Bec Noir instead of Vriska. It's true that the trolls frequently give the kids exposition that guides their actions, but the story has so many sources of exposition -- the sprites, random writing on their planets, Doc Scratch, their own future selves -- that you could easily fill the gaps they leave. That's the other way Hussie fakes a deliberate and satisfying clockwork narrative: redundancy. Hussie can have 100 characters who all "feel" like that have a role because many characters are all basically doing the same thing. I think I once said, in a spiel about database-driven storytelling, that Hussie wrote similar to how he coded. If you ever looked at the HTML of the old MSPA site, I might have been more right than I knew...

This all probably sounds quite harsh on Homestuck, but I think even creating this illusion of unity at such a large scale is impressive. Compare to a lot of the long-running shounen, which accumulate hundreds of characters who are relevant for their introductory arc and then become part of an increasingly gigantic crowd of tagalongs who are lucky if they even get to say a line now and then to remind the audience they exist. Hussie used the (at the time) brand new concept of the "meme" to accomplish a lot of this aesthetic clockworkery. The most common callbacks in Homestuck, after all, are repeated lines from Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff. The redundancy in characters and details helped the work's internal meme language because memes tend to disperse by being templatized and reused in a variety of similar-but-different contexts. In a normal story, you might see stairs several times, and not think anything of it. But in Homestuck, the concept of "stairs" is memetically meaningful. If stairs show up, you better be sure you'll soon get a memetic callback. A bunny? There's a bunny? Oh shit. You better put it back in the box. In this paradigm, a character being similar to another character, almost to the point of redundancy (i.e. Dave and Davesprite and Dirk), is aesthetically unifying, rather than pointlessly promulgating.

[erinwantstowrite]

erinwantstowrite on tumblr dot com how do you get the motivation to plan & outline & write & finish ur fics

well, anon on tumblr dot com, motivation comes in waves, and i've simply learned how to ride it

we're all in different boats of many colors, shapes, designs, and sails, so we all have different ways to ride our waves safely, creatively, and while having fun. my methods might not work for you (i hope they do!) but they could give you an idea. however, there are basic fundamentals that every sailor (writer) should know:

taking care of yourself, body and mind

going outside to enjoy the sun and live and breathe

taking time to learn new things

outside of the box thinking

your motivation will come to you better when you figure out what helps you feel good. create a schedule or set out a certain time of day to write, and don't beat yourself up if you find that your writing isn't coming to you on certain days. it'll come back, it always does

when planning, i like to use notebooks. i have two notebooks (so far) for LoF, notebooks for my original works, etc. I treat them like it's an extension of my brain (or like a journal). it has all my brainstorming, lists and facts, timelines, calendars, etc. i have research notes in here too! the notebook is a conglomeration of everything all together, and some things don't end up looking pretty or end up in the fic at all

outlining is different. outlining is taking your brainstorms, figuring out what is "needed" to drive the plot forward, what is "wanted" to fill in spaces between plots (example: i wanted tim and peter to meet, and i decided it makes the most sense if tim was stalking him, and what was needed for the plot was for tim to figure things out from that conversation). put it in a chronological order and try to make it read like an episode or "mini-book" each chapter, if you can. no pressure on that last part.

your outline will constantly change (think like how the wind and currents in a boat could shift and you have to adjust so you can get where you're going). do not fret about it, just continue forward. make a new outline with your new ideas, reflect and keep the old one around. you might scrap a scene and then find out you can fit it in somewhere else later on

when writing, you want to know what you can handle within a day. on average, i can set aside 80 minutes a day, and write about 2000 words. but it entirely depends on my mood, if i slept right, if i have plans that day, etc. sometimes i write 2000, other times i write 20 or nothing at all. do not push yourself to write every day or write a certain word count, it will come to you naturally. you'll also get better over time and with practice, and when you find and get comfortable with your writing style, you'll be able to make your plans, outlines, and write with no problem at all

and with finishing... i'll admit that i have an issue with that. i find that endings are the most important part of a story, and sometimes i don't want it to end. but alas, it must. endings are never "endings", because there will always be a set up to what comes later, even if you don't write it. you want your characters to finish their arc, but also have room for growth once the reader has stopped following their journey. it's satisfying to get to that end and see your characters off. it's on you to figure out your way over that hill

[pyre-of-pages]

Hello!! I'd love to ask 🌈🍪🍁📓 for Elur! c:

Character Asks for: Elur - Bosmer LDB

🌈 - Do you associate any colors with them?

Elur's "signature" colors are white (for her hair and eyes) and light blue. Once she discovered stalhrim, she came to really appreciate it because of its ties to her Falmer heritage. The Ancient Nords may have used it, but Elur suspects (probably correctly) that stalhrim is ice imbued with Falmer magic. It wouldn't be the first time the Nords laid claim to something the true natives of Skyrim created. She's adopted shalhrim as her "signature" armor/weapon material because of how much it fascinates her.

🍪 - What are their favorite scents?

Oooh, the sense of smell is something I tend to neglect as a writer! Great opportunity to practice that! I'll choose three scents Elur enjoys and say why: Old Wood - The Bravil house she was born and raised in was basically a four-room shack. The wood was constantly getting damp and it released that "old cabin" scent every time it rained. Elur still finds the smell of old, damp timber comforting -- even when she catches it on the wind in the forest after a rain shower. Paper and Ink - This comes from her hobby of reading. She has a library in her home and the smell of the leather-bound books is one she likes. She also deals with a lot of paperwork in her day-to-day affairs and still enjoys the smell of fresh ink on the scrolls -- it's just positive association at that point. New Baby Smell - Elur gave birth to two children and she was surprised that brand new babies have a pleasant scent. Well, they had a pleasant scent to her anyway -- but she's their mom and moms are strange like that. The smell wore off of her babies after a few months, but Elur still remembers it.

🍁 - What is this oc’s favorite season?

Oddly enough, winter. Her being ice-blooded (showing traits of her ancient Falmer ancestors) seems to make her more resistant to the cold so she's able to enjoy the winter weather more than other Bosmer. Even though she still needs to bundle up in layers, she enjoys the coziness of the furs and the fires that come with colder weather. No wonder she feels so at home in Skyrim, especially the ice fields around Winterhold.

📓 - Do you associate any quotes or lyrics with this oc?

"This will be my last confession 'I love you' never felt like any blessing Whisper it is like it's a secret Only to condemn the one who hears it With a heavy heart" From "Heavy In Your Arms" by Florence + The Machine I just associate this entire song with Elur's romance and marriage (it's a song about loving someone while you have depression and I relate heavily to it). This stanza in particular is relevant to Elur because she knows far too well what grief feels like. She knows loving someone means guaranteed pain if you happen to lose that person in one way or another. In the case of her marriage, Elur is very aware she may outlive her husband -- much like her mother did with her father. She knows loving him now will mean heartbreak later on, but she does it regardless.

AAAAHHH!!! This was so much fun!!! Thank you so much for those asks!!

[docholligay]

Shamash Points--Live Action nominations

All eleven people who put in an answer for this got a point! So these three are extra points, and thank you for playing!

1 point for bringing something that actually sounds like something I might find intriguing so I can only assume it's done badly to @iscahwynn

Yuri Is My Job. YIMJ tells the tale of Hime, a clinically narcissistic highschooler who is obsessed with maintaining her perfect, angelic persona in the hopes of landing a rich husband and living a life of luxury and ease. Through shenanigans, she winds up working at a yuri-themed performance cafe where the girls all pretend to be running a salon attached to the fictional St. Liebe Academy. Every girl there performs their wholesome and cutesy character interactions for the onlooking patrons while being absolute dumpster fires as soon as they can step out of sight. Hime assumes she'll run rings around the current staff, but soon learns that she's in the big leagues now when it comes to manipulating people for fun and profit.

2 points for being the exact kind of white women trash I expect to @madegeeky

Deadly Women. Complete garbage. Yes, woman that sounds as though she's absolutely swimming in Xanax, please tell me all about women who murder. The reenactments are a work of art of bad acting and color grading that makes me flashback to the 90s so hard I should sue for whiplash. But, oh, my favorite aspect, by far, is Candice Delong, former FBI profiler. All that energy the narrator is missing? Straight into her. The intensity and enthusiasm with which she says lines like "And that's when the tornado started" is beautiful. She should be both admired and judged for how hard she leans into the drama of it all, especially considering how often she speaks of women killing children. M'am, I'm gonna need you to show a bit less enthusiasm for the child murders, please. It's a glorious trash fire and I love it.

3 points for making me laugh so hard I had to read this whole thing to the dinner table to @skylineofspace

For me, the peak of shows that I am unreasonably compelled by despite being just genuinely not good is ABC’s Once Upon a Time. If one is not familiar, this show is about a group of fairytale characters that have been transported to a modern day nondescript Small Town (in Maine); we follow both the present characters who have lost their memories, as well as flashbacks to their time in the fairytale world. (Until the end of the first season where everyone gets their memories back but we still keep doing flashbacks all the time). Our viewpoint character is the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming (Emma), who comes to the town to get back her son, who is now being raised by the Evil Queen. (Emma spends the majority of the show amicably co-parenting her son with the evil queen in a situation that only doesn’t count as queer-baiting because both characters are never not dating a male love interest). In the hands of a good writer, the concept of the ideal based archetypes of a fairytale being brought into contrast with the real world could make for some really interesting material! This is not the hands of a good writer. This is the hands of former Lost writers working on behalf of the Disney corporation. The specific point at which I dropped out was after they just directly re-create the plot of Frozen whole sale in the middle of season 4. All that being said, I did very genuinely find a lot of the characters to be interesting in concept and the way they interwove a lot of the fairytale backgrounds is exactly up my alley (One of the major characters is Rumplestiltskin, who is also the Beast from beauty and the beast and the son of peter pan (who is evil)).

[0creativity0]

It's so funny to me that so many of us fanfiction writers (and also just writers in general) spend lifetimes trying to pinpoint and convey super specific emotions and feelings with the perfect words and wording, and then some 14 yo on SoundCloud makes some weird combination of synthesiser notes with an echo, gives it a plain orchid blue screen for cover and calls it something akin to "Warm nights" and we all know exactly what the fuck they were getting at.

I can try as hard as I want, my words could never provoque emotions the way sounds do, and not even the way colors do. Colors are so evocative and I think the meanings different cultures have ended up associating with them because of it are so interesting to compare. But that's a subject for another day.

A book is very one dimensional, right? Like, your brain (as you read) might create an image of what you've been described. It might try to interpret what a character looks like, or what a place is like. It might even play a little music in your head, if a little music is said to be playing. It won't ever be able to really get into every aspect at once in detail, though. I don't think you can read a book, be focused on what's happening, while also imagining a place, a character, their voice, the wind, the sky, the way your skin feels, where your glasses weight on your nose, etcetera. All the things that make it feel real.

There's, I think, only a few of those pieces that your brain can work up alone at once, and the more of those pieces I manage to envision at the same time, the more dopamine my brain produces. With a book, I have maybe one of those factors down at a time. Listening to a song is almost automatically two of them. Sounds and lyrics, setting/atmosphere and story (albeit it often takes a few tries to actually understand the story). If you've seen the cover art for the song or album you're listening to, or a music video, you might be able to make a mental image of it, or just create your own from scratch, which is even more immersive. If you've listened to other songs from the same artist or album that fit in with this one and make a real story with multiple chapters, that really helps in my opinion. If you like the artist, you can maybe even comprehend exactly what a song is about and relate to it better. By simply existing, a song already puts together a lot of those pieces. The art itself does all the heavy lifting. Reading demands more brain capacity. I think it takes a very special person to be able to do so much at once, and that those people make phenomenal writers. I certainly can't do all of that, I'm a dumbass.

Then there's, with music, the excitement of live events. Which, I don't know about you guys but I'd rather read alone than listen to someone read my favorite books for me. Music is much more popular and convivial. It ends up being a big part of everyone's lives, and playing a role in our relations to each other. Relatability undoubtedly makes art better and more enjoyable.

BUT, in my opinion, trying to write something technically impressive and compelling is so much more interesting. Just how a technically impressive and compelling art piece is more interesting than a plain orchid blue screen, even if it's less evocative sometimes. Which is why poetry is just so... So... There's probably no art form I find more interesting than poetry... It's so... Explodes

Even then, despite all of that, for daily consumption, music is much better. I listen to a lot of music, I listen to too much music actually. Lost access to my Spotify for about two weeks about a month and a half ago and how that affected my mood was eye-opening to say the least. It's low-key an issue. I live for this thing. I'm listening to music in the morning before I've had the time to register that I exist, I'm listening to music during conversations, during my five minutes of break between classes, and while I study as well. I'm listening to music right now ffs. And I don't know if it helps me think or prevents me from doing so.

All of that said, I wonder why shows are so much less entertaining to me than music. I think it might have something to do with my vision not being very good, and my visual memory even worse. Looking at a show might be awesome when it's happening, but I'll only be able to recreate a poor and blurry copy of it in my brain. Even a painting is better because it's static, that's less information to remember. Rythms and beats are so memorable and so repetitive it's not even hard to keep them in mind, which is why they don't leave your head. I don't know about you guys but I've never had a vivid image stuck in my head just because it's pretty, but I sure have had songs stuck in my head just because the rythm is fun.

Yeah, that sounds about right. But now that I'm thinking about it, I'd also say the reason I like music better is simply that looking at something is the single most grounding sense of all. Seeing things is what feels real. But so I know I'm staring at a screen and not a landscape, contrary to when I'm listening to a song and can thereby just close my eyes and produce a pixelated version of that landscape that looks like nothing but feels a thousand times as real as any picture. Unless we're talking about virtual reality I suppose. That's a whole other thing though.

Animes, cartoons, live actions, movies. The only real visual performances I enjoy that much are plays, preferably broadway musicals. And ballets, but dance is just a whole other thing. But also, when a show/movies does stick with me, it sticks for much longer than anything else could, even music. Probably because of how many factors go into making one, and how intricate they are.

Anyway. Just a bunch of dumb thoughts.

[loadednachosao3]

Any tips for someone who wants to get better at creative writing?

hoo boy there are a ton I could give! let's see if I can't think of some that might help!

first, read! read, read, read! read things you like, that engage you and make you feel something, and then read writing advice to figure out how to translate what you felt and what you liked into writing that makes someone else feel just as good (or sad, or angry, or whatever, LOL). Stephen King's book On Writing is a solid place to start -- learn from the people who have made writing their lifeblood! go to the library's 800s section and find all the writing tips books you can get your hands on! I STILL read those 19 years into writing!

don't try to edit while you write (small edits are fine so you don't forget them, but don't overdo it). remember: first draft, worst draft! the important part is getting the backbone of the scene down. once that's there, you can mix and match and scramble it up and change words and delete shit and do all sorts of things! I actually enjoy the editing process, since it makes everything come together. don't think "oh, this is so bad, I have to edit so much, I suck." try to frame it as, "damn, look how much writing I did! this is an awesome base to polish up! it's gonna be so rad once I correct these mistakes!"

on that note: there WILL be mistakes. you'll miss plot holes, forget shit, write stuff that doesn't make sense, whatever. beta readers are great for this, since a fresh set of eyes will be able to catch things you didn't. or do what I do: throw caution to the wind, post it, and if someone catches a mistake, say "oops!" and find a way to fix it, retcon it, or ignore it. either 1: you're writing fanfiction or something similar, so it really doesn't matter that much if you fuck up, or 2: you're aiming to be published, and an editor will help spot and fix those things for you anyway. don't let making mistakes discourage you, we all make them!

if you have tropes/character types/plotlines you like, don't let anyone stop you from writing them again and again. you know how many stories Stephen King writes about a writer from Maine with interpersonal issues who goes through supernatural shit? and look where he is! what you WANT to write will always be better than what you THINK people want to read! readers can sense passion. use that to hook them!

it is 100% okay to use your writing to work through things, on that note. encouraged, as a matter of fact! lots of great writers have underlying themes in most/all of their works. depression. substance abuse. daddy issues. optimism. pessimism. worldviews. whatever! doesn't have to be bad, but if it IS bad, writing is a phenomenal way to channel those feelings! don't let any shitty weirdo ever tell you anything else. projecting your emotions onto fictional characters is a very highly recommended therapeutic technique, so use it! (lbr, even if you don't do it consciously, you WILL do it subconsciously. sorry about that)

mmmmmblock out the haters! that is, don't let people tear you down and make you feel like you shouldn't write anymore! no matter your skill level, if you have something to say, something you want to see play out, make it happen. everyone else can suck a duck

figure out a plotting style that works for you. for some, it's a rigid outline with every conversation accounted for. for others, it's a looser one, some ideas and scribbled notes of general directions with the rest to be filled in as you go. for others still (this is mostly my style), you just start writing and see where it takes you. very chaotic, but very fun! I also like to have vivid daydreams sometimes and then just write them down. whether I do that or learn where the scene is going as my fingers are on the keys depends on the day. no method is better or worse, so do what feels right!

jot down inspiration in a notepad or on your phone or whatever's around as it comes to you. could be as simple as "this exchange I heard caught my attention" or "that gravestone has a badass surname I'd love to use for a character," or as complex as "I want to explore the themes of grief and trauma that that other book did, but with my own twist on it." a word. a color. a feeling. keep a list of everything that makes you want to write, and use it later!

if you really hate your first draft, scrap it! if you hate your second, scrap it! if you hate your third... you can always start fresh!!! don't sit around thinking, "aw beans, I couldn't get it right on the first try, I must not be a real writer." not every idea's gonna be a winner, not every scene is gonna work out! you gotta keep on keeping on, though! don't give up even if you hate it!!!

uhhhh that's all I can think of rn... the rest would be more stylistic/grammatical/nitpicky tips, which I CAN give, but maybe in a different post? let me know if you guys would ever like an insight into how I edit my stories with tips like that in mind, and maybe I'll make a lil guide!

but in general, yeah, those are my big, sweeping tips! hope they helped at least a little!

[ro994art]

Bluey Minisodes Minireviews: Round 3!

It's that time once again, folks! And I'll be honest, this time it arrived sooner than I thought, but I ain't complaining xD Even though these premiered on Disney+ on Monday, I am only reviewing them now because of a combination of me getting sick and needing to rest my hands a bit from drawing too much. I'm feeling better from both things now, btw! ^^

I guess these reviews have officially become tradition now. Will I do the same should more actual Bluey episodes ever premiere? Only time will tell I guess. 😬

I think there's a bigger chance that people are caught up with the new minisodes now that it's been a few days, but just in case, ⚠️ Spoilers below the cut.

🛏️ Strong Potion

As always with this show, major props to Bandit for always being such a great sport and improviser when it comes to his kids' games, not to mention the pain he's willing to endure to amuse these girls. 😅 It's honestly super adorable to me when dads play pretend that their kids are super strong and can take them down in a brawl, it kinda reminded me of episodes like "Featherwand" and "Tina" (the latter is not one of my favorites, but I enjoyed that bit more here 😅).

🪥 Robo Bingo

Bingo sure does love pretending she's a robot or machine, doesn't she? xD I mean it's the second time within these minisodes alone. But I guess kids love to play their favorite games over and over, so I'm sure it's accurate. 😅 It was pretty funny to see how specific Chilli had to get with her instructions to get Bingo to do what she needed while not breaking "character", and I appreciate that they used the "Wind-up Bingo" noise, because "Daddy Dropoff" is such a cute ep and one of my favorites, so I appreciate the callback.

The ending actually made me laugh, though. That caught me off-guard. 😂

🦜 Butlers

Episodes heavily featuring one of the character's drawing styles? I'm always here for that! 😉 There's something really fun and whimsy about them that really captures a child's imagination and how they view what they create come to life. Apparently, these butlers were voiced by popular Australian comedians, but much like 95% of the voice guest stars in Bluey, I have no idea who they are. 😅 But the gags where super fun, and these kids/writers came up with some really creative and crazy stuff for the Dreamhouse xD The bit with Harlow in the kitchen might have been my favorite, poor guy has to keep up with those crazy requests, I'd second-guess my carreer choices too buddy, I feel you there. 😂 Overall, this might have been the most fun short of this new bunch.

🪞 Where's Bingo?

This one was fine, I guess. 😬 It might have been my least favorite of this batch. Like, nothing inherently wrong with it, but I guess I just didn't find the game particularly fun or engaging, at least not to watch. It was pretty much just Bandit carrying Bingo around and pretending to look for her. It was cute though, that much it was. 😊 But it's Bandit and Bingo, so what else is new? 🤭

🐻 Goldilocks

Another Bandit bedtime story, YAY! 😆 Honestly love those, we should Bandit-fy every fairy tale in existence, just saying. 😉 This retelling might not have been as funny as the previous two (in my opinion), but it was MUCH easier to follow than "Three Pigs", which I greatly appreciate. And I also appreciate Bandit calling out how messed up it is that Goldilocks is basically a criminal and we're suppossed to be okay with that xD Old fairytales, man. Anyways, the fighting twist was funny, and I love how the kids always want to hear the story again, with Bandit always been like "Noooo I wanna sleep!", which feels super accurate. 😂

Side note that has nothing to do with the minisode itself, but "Puss In Boots: The Last Wish" might have forever altered my mental image of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, because that version of them is all I could imagine. 😅

🎻 Alongside

You all know I've been asking to see other characters featured in these minisodes since the first ones came out, and we finally got a bit of that! Sort of. It still heavily featured the Heeler fam, but it was cool to see a bit of the routine of one of the side characters for once! Honey may not be my favorite supporting character, but she's definitely a pretty underutilized one most of the time, so it was cool to get a look at how a typical day is like for her in comparison to Bluey! Honey sure is a busy bee, and also appears to be quite self sufficient for her age.

Don't know about anyone else, but I found relatable aspects on both Honey's and Bluey's side of the day xD I personally watched this one twice and focused on a different side each time, but a friend of mine told me that she was pausing and rewinding through the whole thing. How did you guys watch it? I'm actually curious. 😁

This might have been my favorite (maybe tied with "Butlers") of this bunch just because of how interesting the concept is, all the details going on in the background, and how it finally featured secondary characters. Here's hoping it was sort of a testing ground to do so with more characters that don't typically get much spotlight in the future.

Final thoughts:

Even though I do miss regular-length Bluey episodes, these shorts continue to be a fun little way to still see our favorite cartoon dog family in short and sweet, lighthearted scenarios, which as I mentioned previously and will continue to mention, is always welcome in these trying times as a fun little distraction.

I couldn't help but also notice how all the Minisodes so far have gotten grouped into "Season 1" on Disney+, and I'm assuming also in their Australian streaming service. I wonder if maybe, if they continue to make more and release them throughout 2025, those will be season 2? I guess we shall see.

Thanks to everyone who read my silly little opinions on these silly little shorts. If you've read this far, have a donut 🍩, my treat. 😉 Hope to see you all on the next Bluey!

[daystobook]

Day 6: Neil Gaiman Master Class, Dreyer's English, More Addie Larue, Advancing into the Story

Allegation/Trigger Warning: Neil has been accused by 5 women of sexual assault/rape.

The thing about writing early on—which I am at—is that it's too easy to give up. To become impatient and blurt, 'why is this not working?' leave it, and don't feel bad about it after a while—because there's nothing to feel bad about in the first place, nothing came of it so there's no accountability.

I was stuck with another story yesterday. Listening to VE Schwab's podcast with Cassandra Clare, when Cassandra said that she loves to run her stories by some of her close writer friends, and VE Schwab said something similar, I realised that as much as writing is a lonely occupation, it doesn't have to be. So I asked my friend Amrita a question, posed to answer as a character, and I got my unblocking. Thanks Amrita! I had been able to do something similar for her a few days back, it feels good to be of help.

I continued to write. Every bleh word after you realise this isn't working is a struggle. But I powered through and something I didn't know about the characters unfolded. I took VE Schwab's advice of going outside of the story and thinking about where I want it to go, and started creating a Miro board. Miro boards are nice! I didn't know about how effective they could be before Imagine 2200 folks created an interesting writing exercise for us on a zoom call before they started this year's edition of the writing competition.

At the same time, I also just kept pantsing. I was planning the story alongside of letting it unfold in parallel. Today in Neil Gaiman's masterclass chapter 4—Finding your Voice, I took away two things

Make mistakes.

Only way to make mistakes is to finish writing what I start.

You learn more by finishing a failure than by writing a success. And you definitely learn more by finishing a failure than you ever do by beginning something that's fantastic but stops. —Neil Gaiman, Masterclass, Chapter 4, Finding Your Voice

I haven't had finished failed stories. I don't have stories archived somewhere, which I know nobody will ever read. How will my voice ever develop, if I can't sustain copying others and ensuring an end, no matter how terrible. Listening to Neil, the bucket in which I put 'not good', or 'failed' writing has changed from useless to medals.

I also started reading Dreyer's English. Em dashes and commas, when used effectively can make a long winded thought sentence into something tangible. Dreyer's introduction was funny and full of easily understandable long sentences.

I'm not supposed to use

very

really

rather

quite

in fact

just

so

pretty

of course

actually

extremely

surely

for a week, as an exercise from first chapter of Dreyer's English. That was the whole chapter.

I also realised my one pastel highlighter is the last one standing, and I'll need to order more soon. I am going away from wax highlighters, at least for a bit, because of the ease of order, comfort, contrast, and aesthetic of pastel lightness of liquid highlighters.

There's an interesting exercise I'm going to try from the Neil's masterclass workbook:

Challenge yourself to write a short story in one sitting to fight fear of mistakes. You're not allowed to go away from the project until you have a completed draft. It can be any length, but tell a complete story that will satisfy a reader. Don't do too much editing while you write, let your ideas flow and then structure them once you've got everything on the page.

Hopefully in between the next couple of posts.

[rainberrydrops]

HEY THERE!!

What's your favorite webtoon?

G'day!! (●'◡'●)

Hiii! It's nice to meet you and thanks for sending this ask ☺️ I would like to share my top 5 favorite and I hope you don't mind me sharing a little bit why I like them ✨

1. The Sound of Magic: Anarasumanara (Drama)

The art of this webtoon is so gorgeous and every panel is deliberately drawn to convey a strong message. I remember crying when I first read this series. I can say this is one of webtoon's hidden gems (hidden in a way that it is locked behind daily pass 😅), but this is worth the effort of unlocking every chapter every day. (Also, I'm curious about the live action adaptation of this webtoon 🤔)

2. The Horizon (Drama)

Another short hidden gem locked in daily pass. Trigger warning: it has a dark and depressing content. If you are emotional like me, I suggest preparing tissues while reading this because this series also made me cry in some chapters. I love how this webtoon is drawn, it adds depth to how devastating the setting of this series.

3. Omniscient Reader (Action)

This is still ongoing and all chapters are free to read! I think you will love this series (because I noticed you like Jujutsu Kaisen 👀). The action scenes (and every chapter, tbh) were drawn beautifully and the entire theme of being a reader transported to the world of your favorite webnovel is greatly executed. What I like the most about this series is all characters are three-dimensional. Despite having supernatural powers, you can still feel their humanness. I first read this as a webnovel and fell in love with it instantly. I love Kim Dokja and if I were a character in this series, I'll also do my best to protect him (even though I know it's pointless 🤣)

4. Like Wind on a Dry Branch (Fantasy)

A gorgeous ongoing series about pain of losing someone you love, the hardships of finding your life's purpose, healing from all the past trauma you have, and finding love once again. This is a slow-burn romance between the two leads and what sets it apart from other fantasy manhwa set in historical is it lives by its historical setting. The language used by the characters is the formal old English, that's why many dropped this series when it was still at its early serialization because they had a difficulty understanding the conversation between characters 🤣 BUT!! it's worth every effort and time, and you can't help but love Rieta and hope for her happiness.

5. See You in My 19th Life (Romance)

The author of this series is one of my favorite webtoon artist & writer. The way she writes a story is satisfying from the beginning to end, with a lot of surprising twists here and there. That's what she pulled on this series. It's about a woman who have lived through 18 lives and she can all remember clearly, so she no longer feels the beauty of living because of it. But on her 18th life, she met someone who made her want to be an ordinary girl and enjoy being alive again. However, their time was cut short due to an accident. When she realized she's reborn in her 19th life, she promised herself that she will find him again and continue the promise they made together.

Bonus:

How to Survive a Romance Fantasy (Fantasy/ Comedy)

This one is the most unserious webtoon I have ever read. If you just want to have a good laugh and read something very unserious from beginning to end, then I highly recommend this series.

Thank you again for this ask 🤍 it's been a while since I talked about my favorite series so this truly brighten up my day! I hope you have a lovely day ahead as well~ 🌻💞

Also~ I added the link to every series in case you (or anyone who sees this post) are interested to read them!

[toastthewolfie]

Intro to me ig

Hi, im Toast, I use they/them pronouns (i use any pronouns, i dont care, but i just generally use they/them 🤷), please note that I am a minor :)

I do art and whatnot, I take requests, just use the ask box (I’ll draw any character as long as I don’t find the media/it’s creator too problematic itself, i can and will draw your ocs as well! (I will draw ur oc interacting with mine if u want :3)).

I write sometimes but im not a writer so they arent the best lol I wish I could tell you what content to expect in my artwork but my interests are as rapidly changing as the wind so uhm. Yeah.

That’s all, have a great day and I hope you enjoy your time here :)

note: I generally dont tag my rbs as i dont want to clog up my tags if someone doesnt want to see what im reblogging. I may tag something every once in a while, but if i dont, it’s not personal, it just how i prefer to organize my account :) note^2: Roleplayers are free to interact with my posts (in or out of character) as long as it’s NOT NSFW, I am a minor. I do not care, just keep in clean pls <3

Art Only Account: @fad3d-h3arts COD Oc RP account: @arctic-k9er also;

small note: I do not bite, but I am a fairly anxious person who is prone to running away, i swear it’s NOT PERSONALLLLLL Tags: #toast’s 12am rambles - just random rambles that happen at waay to early hours of the morning or really late hours of the night. #toast’s oc stuffs - actual stuff about my ocs (lore, little things about them or their dynamics). #toast’s oc rambles - nonsensical whimsy about my ocs, usually hold less canonical standing than the ‘stuffs’, but can be canon. Essentially: i’ve locked on to one aspect about this character and I am going to YAP. #yatritiri - my original character lore and world stuff :D

Anyways, any OC i view as important will get their own ‘masterlist’ of sorts and they will be linked here ^^:

Selena Harris - CoD OC

[freshoutthaslammer]

i would like to see the complex answer then if it's okay since Spencer's existence not being real is already obvious. because i don't think it'd be an exaggeration or lie to say that some, or many, female fic writers do fantasize about him sexually while writing smut about him. that's why it didn't make sense to me. sorry if i'm overstepping but just saying "he's not real 🎀" every time you want to avoid a question seems funny to me.

the complex answer is that he is not real (and a further explanation).

i cannot physically date spencer reid. i cannot physically date matthew gray gubler. i never seriously consider the possibility of that happening, nor do i ever seriously fantasise about it. yes obviously mgg is attractive, and mgg as spencer reid is attractive. i did not grow an attachment to spencer reid solely based off his looks, though.

i can find spencer reid attractive and also not want to date him. these two things can be true at once. lesbians can find men attractive and not want to date them.

i like him as a character, and furthermore, i like writing him. he is complex, and his brain is actually enjoyable to get inside of and work out. this is the case for most cm characters (because the writers suck at fleshing out their characters). he has a personality i like to explore. i’m sure if i developed this fixation on any of the other characters, i’d be writing them instead. i didn’t, therefore i write for spencer reid.

there’s a level of romanticisation when it comes to writing romance fics. obviously. i guess the easiest way i can make this make sense is that i am not writing and picturing a strictly heteronormative relationship. honestly, a lot of my fics border on spencer having female-in-a-relationship traits because that is what i know lmfao. my two main goals when i write him is good characterisation, and good emotions portrayed. not “Man and Woman Relationship — Accurately Portrayed Straight Couple”. i just like romance and i get to write it and also share it with you guys! yippee!!

i will also add that if you read my smut you’ll see (with the exception of maybe one fic), it is almost entirely reader/the girl based, and it’s all about him giving, her receiving. i don’t really fantasise about having sex with spencer reid literally lmfao. i don’t want to have sex with spencer reid or any man. i fantasise more about the girl receiving the pleasure and spencer reid is but a vessel.

AND in conclusion to this very long — maybe unnecessarily so — and hopefully sensical explanation, up until like three days ago i identified as bisexual. a lot of my feelings for men were comphet i didn’t know were comphet. sex with men has always icked me out and i put it down to asexuality (which i have a whole explanation of on parfaitblogs). but yeah. anyways this was a long winded answer that i know a lot of lesbians would not have given you, so i hope it helps. liking male celebs/male fictional characters is very common in lesbianism because they are entirely unattainable lolol.

[anjukurada-fanfic-rec-blog]

@thecommonmold I know I'm not Neil, but I would like to add to this if you would allow me.

I was always creative when I was a child. Always daydreaming, being lost in my mind and the worlds I would create, but I never really knew how to write in a "good" way. I actaully started writing when I was 14, starting out with self-insert fan fictions for my favorite anime. My best friend and I would even collab with these stories, passing notebooks back and forth and learning to work WITH another individual and their ideas and the direction of the stories. For about 3 years, all we did was self-insert fan fictions until we felt comfortable enough to write something original. I would read her stories, she would read mine, or we would collab and build worlds. We developed our writing skills through practice, through observing other writers, through critiques from other friends or online strangers. We thought we were AMAZING writers at the age of 17!

But every time we looked back at the stories from when we were kids, they were really bad! We laughed at how horrible we were at writing, and how we thought we were so great. BUT (and this is very important) we were able to look back at these stories and see where we came from, and how much we have progressed! Look at people who have learned to draw. Maybe someone who makes AMAZING art. Look at where they started, and where they are now. They could have looked back at their old artwork, they could have gotten discouraged, they could have stopped and never picked up a sketch book again. But they didn't. They learned from their mistakes, they looked at their old artwork as Progress instead of garbage.

I know how hard it is to get started with something. I overthink so badly, and I feel like I need to be perfect or it's not worth it. I'm 32 and still suffer with those thoughts. BUT you can't make progress without practice. Here are a couple bit of advice and practices you could use:

Do NOT write for perfection. You will get so caught up in the details that you will be stuck and you won't end up writing anything at all. Your own mind can be your worst enemy sometimes... Write for the joy of writing, regardless of mistakes! You can always go back and fix it up later!

Do not get discouraged by your old work. It is going to be bad! And going forward, some of your future works are going to seem bad in a few years. They are PRACTICE! They are PROGRESS! Cherish your bad works and learn from them. They are not garbage, they are learning experiences.

Don't only write things that are meant to be a part of a bigger story. Write things JUST for practice. To get out of your comfort zone, to give you a different view.

FOR EXAMPLE:

Take a notebook to a park. Fine a spot where you are comfortable, sit down, and describe what you see. The sights, the sounds. What the birds are doing, what the plants sound like in the wind. What the sun feels like on your skin, what the other people around you are doing. Emerse yourself in your "scene". You can do this anywhere as well. In a mall, on a bus, in a classroom, on a bench in the middle of a city. This helps with building believable descriptions and helps with emersing readers into the scene that you are setting.

Once you are comfortable with doing this, add a character to the scene! Describe what they feel while walking through the park, the city, the school hallways. Learn how to describe what your characters are feeling and observing.

Find writing promts online, and write short drabbles revolving around those prompts. Get out of your comfort zone and just write "pointless" stories! There are plenty of books and sites that have writing prompts that you could use. Some are simple things where you are given a list of words that you need to use in your story ("Use Lobsters, green, wind, robot, and dice at some point in your story") and you would have to build a story using those things, or you could use prompts that tell you how a scene opens and you finish the scene.

The most important thing is to keep writing. Not everything needs to have a meaning, not everything needs to be perfect and publishable. You need to practice somehow! I developed ALOT of my writing skills with role playing! You can find role playing sites to join and practice that way as well!

Don't be too hard on yourself. You are still young, you are still learning. You will NEVER stop learning and getting better. You just need to put pen to paper and write SOMETHING even if it's just a jumble of words!

Hello Neil,i know you have 120k asks, so you will never see this, but genuinely, how do i start writing? I know it probably sounds silly to you, but I am 15 and already feel behind. I want to be a writer, I have loved reading ever since I read Coraline at 9 and have always wanted to do something creative with my life and to be an author just feels so fitting for me,I just don't know how to do it I guess. I keep trying but it always turns out bad,I don't even know where to beigin and how to pace the story or do anything really.I write short fanfics sometimes and when i go back to read them they are just objectively bad. I know what I do and dont like in stories,I just can't seem to accomplish what I want when I try to write it. And I do have so many ideas, but it never goes anywhere, and I can't put the words on the page. I know improving takes time but I just wish I had some guidance on how to improve(English is my third language so I probably made mistakes, I apologize )

You sound a lot l would have done at the age of 15, had I been articulate enough for anything like that. At the age of 15 or I knew was that I really wanted to be a writer and that I wanted to write and draw comics one day. I had some ideas that would turn out to be good ideas 15 years later or 25 years later but at that time they were just ideas and I didn't know how to make them into stories.

The most important thing you can do is to keep writing. The second most important thing you can do is to live and learn and experience the world and accumulate a store of things that you have to say and things that you need to write about.