#Why can't I write anything SHORT?!?!?!

[hannahbarberra162]

Civic Duty (Breeding Hours with Sabo)

TW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NON CON, BREEDING KINK, MDNI

Um. Well. As the title says. Sabo is OOC but  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Royalty AU, Sabo x Reader, WC ~3k, I didn't edit this I needed to exorcise it from my body.

The soft sound chimes reverberated throughout the cold castle walls. Before, you would have found the sound soothing and pleasant, if you noticed it at all. Now, the first note of the tune had you on your feet, the book you were reading already forgotten and dropped on the floor. Before the song ended you were already gone from the library, scurrying to find the closest hiding place you could.The castle was enormous, filled with dozens of unused rooms and hallways you tried to hide in. Ultimately it didn’t matter because no matter where you hid, the Prince always found you. There was no escaping the fate he had planned but some part of you couldn’t submit without at least trying to defy his will. 

You ran as fast as your bare feet would take you, the skirt of your dress flying behind you. If you had a choice you’d be wearing pants but the Prince gave you what he wanted you to wear. He always chose fluttery dresses, the kind that trailed behind you as you ran. You suspected he got a sick thrill out of the chase which is why he hadn’t locked you in a cell. There were guards and advisors in the castle but they paid you no mind. The guards wouldn’t hinder you but they prevented you from leaving the grounds. 

Your heart was pounding as you found an old weapons room, completely empty save for a wooden chest. You climbed inside after heaving open the heavy lid, trying to close it as softly as you could. Trying to stifle the noise of your heavy breathing, you put your hand over your mouth. The darkness seemed to fall in on you, trapping you in the small space. Even so, you’d take being stuck in a chest over the Prince. Sweat pooled under your breasts as you waited, closing your eyes to focus on what you could hear. All too soon you heard the clacking of shoes on the tile floors as Prince Sabo walked at a leisurely pace towards you.

“Now where would a little rabbit hide?” Prince Sabo mused aloud, his voice becoming louder now that he’d entered the room. You knew he was talking about you but you tried to be as silent as possible in the hopes that he’d move on. His shoes clacked ever closer and your heart beat ever faster.

“She wouldn’t be so foolish as to ensnare herself in a trap, would she? Or perhaps she wanted to make herself a gift to her Prince?” His footsteps neared the chest, circling around it slowly. Your heart sank as you knew he’d found your hiding space. Hunching your shoulders, you curled into a ball for the inevitable. The lid of the chest opened all at once, Prince Sabo lifting the lid with ease. You cowered before him as he flipped it all the way open before considering you with mock sympathy. The Prince’s hair glowed golden against the light coming in from the opposite end of the room. Prince Sabo was known for his intelligence, his fighting ability and his good looks. But you knew him only as your tormentor.

“Poor little rabbit. But you know as well as I what we need to do. Come along,” the Prince said, picking you up under the arms like a child. Throwing you over his shoulder, the Prince carried you off to the Breeding Room like you weighed nothing. You squirmed and thrashed but the arm around your waist was like a band of iron. 

“It’s challenging for us both, you know. You’re tired after this morning, I can see it in your eyes. Afterwards you can rest in my bed with me,” Prince Sabo with a wave of his hand, like he was granting you a boon. You redoubled your efforts to get away - “resting” after was rarely refreshing for you.

You’d been taken by the Prince earlier in the year from your humble village. The Prince had gone from village to village with his Elite Palace Guard. All the women in the villages were lined up and the Prince looked through the assembled women for a suitable choice. Most dressed up for the event, putting makeup and their best dresses on. After all, the chosen woman would be the future mother of the heir, if not the Queen proper. They said that the Prince was just and kind, a powerful ruler who would only grow in influence in the greater East Blue continent. He’d become the ruler after a massive fire had claimed the lives of the King and Queen, leaving only Prince Sabo behind. He still bore the facial scar that showed his valiant effort to save his family. There were whispers that he set the fire himself using his immense magical powers but no one knew the truth.

You did not want to be selected, you liked your life in the peaceful countryside. So you hid in the farming fields when the Prince and his retinue rolled around, thinking he’d be none the wiser. But someone had ratted you out and he chased you down on his steed as you fled on foot through the fields. Knowing the lay of the land hadn’t helped you as he scooped you up and planted you in front of him on the saddle, holding your hair in one hand and the horse’s reins in the other. You felt his large erection rubbing against your backside as you rode but still prayed that he’d find you unfavorable.

He hadn’t.

Since then you’d lived in the castle, bred by the Prince at whatever intervals were deemed most fortuitous for conception. A chime would ring in the castle to signify that you needed to be bred by the Prince post haste, the Prince relieved from his duties until the act was complete. The times for breeding weren’t regular and didn’t come at the same time every day. Sometimes you’d be bred on the hour for an entire afternoon and others you’d have five hours to yourself to read in the library. It was maddening not to know when you’d be chased down by the Prince and bred.

Sometimes the Prince took you where he found you, no matter who was around. If he was in a meeting or granting an audience, he’d bashfully request time with his beloved, saying that it was for the future of the nation. The nobles would always say how he was so responsible to think of the nation, that they understood, that they would be back later - all as Prince Sabo gripped your arm in his bone crushing grasp. You quickly learned not to act out at that point - losing face in front of others was a sure way to be denied clothing the following day.

Once alone, he’d bend you over the nearest surface, flipping your skirt over your back and admire your exposed flesh. You weren’t allowed underwear, he said they hindered his ability to love you. You weren’t allowed to come unless on his cock or fingers but he continuously teased you, leaving you wet and wanting until it was breeding time. Even though your heart and mind revolted, the sound of the chimes had your cunt leaking before he’d even touched you. 

Most often he took you by force to the Breeding Room. No matter where you hid in the castle, you never willingly went into the same wing as the Breeding Room. As far as you were concerned it was a torture chamber. It was a room near his own, filled with various apparatuses to restrain or play with you. When you’d first come to the castle, you hadn’t known what any of them were or their purposes. He had made you pick the stand you’d be positioned on time after time until you finally understood what they did. Now he placed you how he wanted you and bred you like a bitch in heat.

And the worst part of it all was the inevitable climb and submission to pleasure he forced on you every time. Prince Sabo never hurt you or did anything more extreme than spanking. Even then, it wasn’t extended and you were fine by the next day. No, Prince Sabo liked to bring you close to climax only to let it slip through your fingers. He’d talk you through it like he was sympathetic to your plight, that everyone had to follow the rules - as if he wasn’t the one who made them. 

Hip checking the door open, Prince Sabo cooed at you like a lover would.

“Hmm, you seem to be agitated, more so than this morning. I think we’d have the best results with something relaxing for you, yes? Maybe on the couch?” He framed it as a question but it was an order. You’d never been able to sway him from his choice once he’d declared it. 

The couch was one of your most hated pieces in the room. You’d be restrained against the soft, cushy surface of the couch, your wrists and ankles bound to the sides of the plush furniture. Prince Sabo would put a wedge under your hips to keep them elevated so his come remained inside you after he was finally done. It was one of the physically comfiest pieces in the room, much better than the stocks or the cage. But with so much of you available to the Prince, it made him behave more like a lover than a stud. The Prince would trail his fingers over your now soft skin, whispered into your ear as he fucked you, giving you love bites and marks all over your body.

“N-no, please, not the couch. I’ll um, take the horse, please, not the couch!” you begged, continuing to struggle against Prince Sabo’s hold. He tutted at you while continuing on to the couch.

“You know as well as I that we must do this for the sake of the Kingdom. Be a good little Rabbit for just a little longer,” the Prince cooed at you as he deposited you on the couch. You were naked in seconds as he stripped you with precision, leaving you shivering in the cold air of the Breeding Room. Your nipples tightened with the expectation of his mouth and teeth on them while your cunt was eagerly awaiting his attention. The Prince was quite fond of sucking on your nipples, he said in preparation for when they would fill to feed his heir. The Prince, of course, did not disrobe.

You let your arms fall to the sides as you laid on your stomach on the sofa. The Prince clasped the restraints around your wrists, kissing each one before he did so.

“We must hurry, the optimal time to breed you is upon us,” the Prince said with sincerity. You didn’t think that was true since he spent so much time making you come repeatedly but you didn’t want the gag in your mouth again. Standing up to look you over, he ran a gloved hand over your back. You pulled slightly against the wrist restraints but as always, he’d locked them tight. He brought out the cushioned wedge and placed it in position under your hips, with the slimmest part of the wedge under your stomach. It effectively raised your ass in the air and kept it there for him to use as he saw fit.

“Hm, let’s determine where you are,” the Prince said, getting to his knees behind you. You squirmed as his gloved hands pulled the globes of your ass apart to inspect your cunt. You already knew what he would find, you felt your slick dripping from you already. Trailing his finger down your slit, Prince Sabo collected some of your own juices as well as his cum from the morning’s session. 

“You are wet but I don’t believe you’re ready to receive me,” Prince Sabo determined, continuing to run his fingers through your folds. “I will grace you with my mouth this session,” he said from behind. You’d heard that phrase enough times to know he was smiling, the mask of amiability slipping away. You whined as Prince Sabo restrained your ankles to the sides of the couch. You tried to close your legs but felt his strong hands on your inner thighs, wrenching them further apart. Prince Sabo tsked at you and you immediately opened your legs as wide as they would go. 

“We don’t need the spreader bar, do we, Rabbit? I think we’ve come farther than that,” Sabo said, kneading the tender flesh at the tops of your inner thighs. Leaning in closer, he licked a long stripe with the flat of his tongue up your entire slit, ending at your weeping hole.

“Delicious as always,” he sighed into your cunt. The Prince loved licking, biting, and eating you until you were a sobbing mess, begging him to breed you. He relished in your forced submission, bringing you to orgasm until he was satisfied. 

With a soft hum, the Prince set himself behind you and began his task. He was as cruel as ever, lapping at you sloppily, teasing your clit as he desired. He spent most of his time dancing around your clit but never quite reaching it. He didn’t tongue fuck your hole as he sometimes did since he’d already come in you that day, but he did push his thick middle finger into you, the loud squelching noise betraying your arousal. You couldn’t stop a soft moan from escaping your lips as the Prince was between yours.

“Ah, little Rabbit, you make such lovely sounds. I know you’re eager, shhh, I know, but just a little more. We need you prepared to fulfill your civic duty,” Sabo said solemnly, his thumb tracing your ready hole. With that, he resumed eating you like he hadn’t in months, this time his tongue rolling against your clit with precision. You tried to muffle your cries but the Prince had always been able to draw lewd noises out of you. You knew you were going to come on his cock, it was inevitable. That was the worst part of it all - no matter where you hid, no matter what you told yourself or how hard you steeled your will against him, you’d be coming around the cock of the Prince as your cunt sucked him in. He sucked your clit gently into his mouth as he added a second finger to join the first. Curling his fingers, he found the spot you wished didn’t exist, the spot that made everything feel so much more.

“N-no - n-not there, Pr-ince,” you cried, your voice breaking as he rubbed the spot while kissing your clit.

“Mmh, who are you to defy the will of the Prince?” Sabo said lightly while pushing harder on the spot. Resuming his leisurely meal, your toes curled as the precipice grew closer, the coil within you tightening ever further…until he stopped. You wanted to scream and thrash against him, you couldn’t take much more today. 

“Shhh, shhh,” the Prince said, rubbing your lower back with his hand. “I know, I know. We’ll get you there. You know I don’t like doing this either, but your orgasm exponentially increases your fertility. We have to do things in a certain way, hm? I’ll attend to you, little Rabbit, don’t fear. It’s time,” he said, false sympathy coating his tone. You heard him unfastening his pants and felt the tip of his fat cock prodding your wet hole.

“Aaah just so,” Sabo grunted as he sheathed himself in one brutal thrust. You mewled and the Prince stilled, as he always did, and allowed you time to adjust. A few moments later he began moving, thrusting into your backside and pushing down on your lower back. The effect made his cock hit all the spots that made your vision fade to white. You felt his heavy balls slapping your clit as he pistoned into you at a steady rhythm. 

“Good aah little Rabbit…taking your Prince’s cock so well nngh…such a scared little Rabbit, but it must be done hah. You need to be bred, your body craves being filled to overflowing with my seed. I’ll keep you stuffed full of my cock until you’re carrying my heir. And even then, I’m going to keep breeding you…you’ll be my little Rabbit forever….nngh…filled with my cock and cum….aaah,” the Prince said as he continued to work you closer to orgasm. His fingers snaked down to your clit and began rubbing it in tight circles. You began crying at his words as well as his movements, moans and mewls slipping out of you in equal measure. You couldn’t focus on his words as he played with your body and brought you close to release. The coil in your stomach was wrapping tighter and tighter and you knew the outcome before it happened.

“Are you ready, Rabbit? Ready to hah hah be pumped full again? If you want my seed, then come on my cock,” the Prince groaned, rubbing your clit even harder and faster than before. The tension in you snapped as you came with a cry around him, your cunt fluttering around him as your vision narrowed into black.  Your release triggered the Prince’s as well but he continued fucking you through your orgasm as he reached his own. You felt his hot come shooting inside you as his cock twitched with his release. He kept himself inside for a few more moments in order to ensure all his cum was kept within you. 

After removing himself, Prince Sabo used his fingers to fuck anything that had spilled from you back into your hole. You whined, the sensation bordering on pain. Prince Sabo placed a kiss on the middle of your back.

“For the sake of your kingdom you must endure, Little Rabbit.”

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

The fandom can't make up its mind on what's supposed to be a joke and what's supposed to be serious because the show can't either half the time. It's a tonally disjointed mess that wants to have absurd over-the-top humor as well as a plot and moments of drama, romance, and angst that demand you see the characters as people and feel for what they're going through. Except you can't do that without also treating the dumb bullshit in a somewhat grounded way. Like, you're still dealing with the same characters. You can't just go "Oh, that? Let's ignore that!" the moment it's no longer convenient to you. You've opened this can of worms and now you have to sleep in it. So, every character flip-flops between two different versions of themselves depending on what the writers need in any particular scene.

This is not to say surreal humor can't be used right alongside characters you're supposed to empathize with, Teen Titans (not Go) did that and it worked. It's just that the absurdity can only come from the setting (Mad Mod, Mother Mae-Eye, pretty much anything Control Freak is in) or from designated joke characters (Date With Destiny). Teen Titans never had the main characters acting in clearly absurd ways as the butt of a joke unless those characters were brainwashed somehow, because the writers knew that would ruin any of the more grounded moments they wanted to write. The writers of Miraculous missed the memo on that one.

I don't disagree. A perfect example is Derision where the show takes all of the bad jokes about Marinette's crush and decides to take them seriously as if you can possible take them seriously without making Marinette come across as unhinged and dangerous. You can't, which brings us to the topic at hand: how do you even begin to understand these characters when the show is constantly making character-breaking choices?

My approach - and the approach I recommend others take if they're going to keep watching the show - is to focus on the characters' cores and reject anything canon does to violate those cores. I don't argue for this stance because I love the characters so much that I only want the good things to count. I take this stance because, if you don't, then the characters fall apart. There is no way to make them work as fully realized characters while embracing every choice canon has made. Miraculous has massive characterization issues that go well beyond the humor.

For example, Adrien has multiple moments of terrible behavior that are played in a serious manner such as the moment in the episode Frozer where he tries to start a fight with Ladybug in the middle of an akuma attack because she wouldn't accept a rose from him earlier:

Setup

Ladybug: I can't accept this rose from you. I told you already. I'm in love with someone else. Cat Noir: I know, M'lady. But if he weren't here, would things be different between us? Ladybug: Well, you know, I can't even begin to imagine him not being here. I'm sorry, Cat Noir. I really gotta get going, and you better do the same. (Swings her yo-yo to head back home; Cat Noir is sad, looking downwards, with one petal of the rose falling.)

Payoff

Ladyice: Cat Noir. We need to set up a trap for whoever turned the city into a giant ice rink. (throws yo-yo) Icecat: (bitterly) My feline instincts prefer to track and observe before I attack. You go your way, I'll go mine. Ladyice: Please don't tell me you're mad at me about the rose. Icecat: There may be a certain chill now between us. Ladyice: I get it, but we should really focus on saving Paris right now. Icecat: We don't always have to do everything together, after all. It's not like we're a couple. (skates away)

There's no way to argue this off as a bad joke. While Adrien has every right to feel hurt, those feelings don't excuse him acting like a pouting child in the middle of an akuma fight. It doesn't excuse him acting like this at any point! Ladybug is not a villain for telling him no. She wasn't even mean about it!

I clearly fully agree that Adrien looks awful and selfish here, but I'd still argue that it's not something that should be used to define Adrien's character if your goal is to tell the "ideal" version of Miraculous. "Ideal" being the version that canon seems to be going for based on the overall picture we can sort of make out if we back way, way, way up and look at the extremely abstract picture canon is clumsily painting.

Unless canon is going to do something monumentally stupid, Adrien is Marinette's endgame romantic interest. It's also clear that there is no plan to cut him from the team. He's going to be Chat Noir for the rest of his life or at least well into his adulthood. This means that he is supposed to be a good hero who deserves his miraculous just like he's supposed to be a charming and cute romantic lead. These are the two things I keep in mind when trying to shift through canon to figure out what writing choices I should fully embrace and what writing choices I have to either ignore or treat as true flaws that get an actual character arc. In my book, either approach is fine because most of the characters are deeply flawed at this point and you can't give them all arcs without bloating the story to nonsense levels.

My goal with this approach is never to say, "oh, that moment shouldn't count in terms of how people feel about the character." It's more, "that moment goes so hard against who this character is very clearly supposed to be that I can't take it into account if I want to tell the kind of story that Miraculous is trying (and clearly failing) to tell."

As an example, let's list off Adrien's worst behaviors. The things that make him look terrible:

He sucks at communicating his needs and feelings, leading to multiple moments where he gets mad at Ladybug for things she's totally unaware of

He has quit or considered quitting without warning multiple times and only one of those was because of something he did "wrong" (NYC Special)

He puts his feelings before the safety of Paris on multiple occasions, even going so far to purposely miss akuma fights to see what happens

He is incredibly pushy about his crush, often ignoring Ladybug's feelings on the topic by continuing to bring it up even after she asked him to stop

There have been multiple instances where he almost cataclysmed multiple people in a fit of anger

His love for Ladynette isn't strong enough to let him break free of things like akumas and nightmare dust even when he's looking her in the eyes making him a pretty crappy romantic lead

People will argue that some of this behavior makes sense for his character because of the abuse that canon has technically introduced, but that the writers seem blissfully unaware of. I don't disagree with that argument, but that doesn't change the fact that none of this is acceptable behavior for a hero and Adrien is a hero who keeps doing these things. A sad backstory doesn't give you the right to behave poorly without consequences.

At the same time, if I fully embrace these elements of canon, what I get is an Adrien salt fic where he loses his miraculous for good while Marinette finds her real true love or even just a non-salty fic where Adrien leaves for his own meatal health and gets replaced by someone who can handle being a hero right now. Canon's not writing either of those, so the only way to engage with these flaws while enjoying canon or aiming for the same end goals as canon is to say, "I guess this doesn't count" or "I guess I need to tone this way down and work through it via a character arc" or even "I guess that was just a bad joke maybe?"

That is the essence of what I mean when I call myself a writing salt, character sugar blog. It comes from looking at canon and seeing that there's simply no way to embrace the worst moments and the best at the same time. We're not dealing with a coherent plot and/or complex characters. We're dealing with a nonsense plot that will warp the characters to bizarre shapes to make random ideas work even if those idea go wildly against canon's end goals.

As an example, Glaciator and Frozer should not exist in the same universe or, at the very least, something should explain why Chat Noir randomly changed his stance on Ladybug's crush from acceptance to pushiness. As is, the pieces don't fit together. The behavior is too contradictory. Remember, this is how Glaciator ends:

Perhaps Ladybug will love me someday. I mean, like, I love her. I have to believe. In the meantime, her friendship is the best gift of all.

Where did this version of Adrien go? Why did he regress in Frozer? There's no in-universe reason. It happened because the writers weren't ready to let the love square date or grow close, but they also wanted the love square to cause drama, so Adrien ends up looking terrible just like Marinette ends up looking terrible when it's her turn to cause love square drama. Her terribleness takes a different flavor so it can be hard to realize that this is a systemic issue, but that's what it is. It's deeply frustrating, but it also clearly stems from cheap writing and not quality characterization.

This is also why my stance is that canon as a whole only supports my Doyalistic core-character analysis style of approach. The writing is too poor quality to do Watsonian analysis where you embrace the full picture and try to put it all together. The closest I'll get to Watsonian analysis is pointing out how much the writing botches a Watsonian take by showing you all the way the writing contradicts itself, twisting into a nonsense pretzel of frustration where the payoffs never satisfy! (See the season four rant for an example or anything where I talked about Chloe's supposed damnation arc.)

There are even characters where canon is such a total mess that you can Doyalistically argue for two separate takes! Gabriel is a perfect example. He is all over the place and his ending was so poorly handled that you can make strong arguments for writing him as a cold-hearted villain or a sympathetic villain without the end result feeling like it spits in the face of canon because both takes maintain his one core element: villain.

That's the big thing I keep in mind when I look at the characters and the lore and the plots and try to come up with versions that the average fan would like. I don't think that there's one true version of any of these things, but I do feel comfortable saying that there are versions that will very clearly only appeal to people who are salty about a specific thing that canon did poorly. That's not who I want to appeal to in my adaptions, so while I'm not going to argue that those takes have no backing in canon, I will argue that those takes are not supported by canon as a whole. Embracing them requires you to take the worst parts of canon at face value while ignoring what canon is clearly trying to do with the overall story.

I get the appeal of that, but it's not fun for me because that approach feels like rolling around in the mud with the pigs. I don't want to sink to canon's level! I want to have fun! That's why I talk about how to make canon into its best self, not its worst self. If you want its worst self, just go watch the actual show. I will be shocked it if disappoints you.

[znthra]

Help. I thought I was just writing morally ambiguous lesbians. Now it's a thesis on how love without agency is just a different kind of violence.

Bye bye mental!

(；´∀｀)

[avelera]

Me: Ah, finally, I knocked out that tiny little one-shot fic I've been working on, nice to have that off my plate so I can go back to the long fics I'm working...

Final word count: 15,000 words

[yourabattoir]

"i don't like this. i don't like any of it." ↳ manhunt // @godblooded

the roots of allyson's resentment toward her grandmother had spread in the years after michael myers' disappearance. for the way she'd turned the yard that should've been a sanctuary for family into a shooting range, the way she'd turned her home into a mausoleum--none of those feelings ever brought her mother back, of course, but it felt good to put her anger, her hate, her despair toward someone real.

michael myers is--had been, she constantly has to remind herself of the past-tense--a shape of a human being, but he slipped through her fingers like sand. laurie hadn't been. all of that--everything--had to go somewhere.

and yet, here she is, despite all her resentment toward her grandmother, with her guns laid out on her table, long elegant fingers covered in gun oil. her mother had always refused to even entertain the idea of a gun in the house for fear of repeating intergenerational curses, or whatever other shit she spewed. maybe it skips a generation. probably.

"i have a permit--permits," she says, teetering on petulant. she wipes her fingers clean and reaches for alana's hand to tug her in close to where she sits on the chair, long legs spread to accommodate alana between them. "i want to keep you--us--safe. is that so bad?"

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Okay, listen. I know I said the mer!Steve fic would be a one-shot, BUT. I'm having wayyy to much fun with it, and I kind of really wanna share, sooo ... how about I post it as several short(ish) chapters instead?

Because then I might have the first one ready soon ...

[thebluebygracieabrams]

so tired of being a shitty bandaid for my parents' loneliness. like have u ever considered you passed your curse to me and some days i feel so lonely it's like i can't breathe around the emptiness in my chest????

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Guess what?

I just came up with more

Fantasy politics

💖💖💖

[t-lostinworlds]

you know, i do realize how hard i can be on myself when it comes to writing. particularly when it comes to finishing a series bc i see other writers being able to complete fic series so easily and i always get so critical of myself over it like, maybe i should write more or maybe i should spend more time on it etc.

but then i thought, usually these fic series have an overall word count of at least 30-40k words. so i'm like girl, you literally just wrote a 30k word "one shot" in roughly 2 weeks. i think you're writing just fine.

[bucksangel]

working on my softdark!stalker!bucky fic and so far i've planned ELEVEN scenes jfc

[troubadour-malin]

why am I the slowest writer in the world UGH

[keeps-ache]

honestly.

[imwritesometimes]

depressed myself by opening my one wip notebook last night to jot some ideas down only to discover I have many, many, many other ideas for other blorbos that I have been unable to do anything with 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃

[karizard-ao3]

The passion is the passion!!!!!! Let the story flow!!

That's how I keep getting into these situations lol

[softgrungeprophet]

sometimes catch myself idly thinking "i could draw at least that good" (in the context of webcomics mostly) but that is the devil talking because the problem is not skill it is My Executives

[painsandconfusion]

Writers, here’s your reminder that you should be doing warm-ups!

Athletes need to warm up. Musicians need to warm up. Artists need to warm up. Heck, I even have to play a few matches in video games before I get into a groove every day.

Warm-ups help you get into the right headspace, give you more control of your actions and word choice, get you comfortable in your physical setting (eg: with your keyboard, notebook, tablet, or whatever you're writing with), and spark creativity.

Even if you don’t think you have spoons to write, sit down and do a couple warm-ups. If you still don’t want to, that’s alright. But. I think you’ll be surprised how often they help break that ice.

5-15 minutes is all you need. I personally set a timer for ten minutes each time and do not stop writing until the time is up. Your warm-up can be anything at all so long as it gets you writing and starts nudging those creative juices.

Here's some common warm-ups:

Journaling. Just jot down some notes about your day. Feel free to really lean into something that you noticed. We're going for description and details -- try to avoid settling into a spiral or focusing on something negative that will upset your creativity.

Short story prompts. Type that into Pinterest and pick the most ridiculous, cliche thing you can. Write a little scene, story summary, or even a rant about why you do or don't like the prompt. Just write.

Vocab challenge. If you like a bit more critical thinking to get you in the zone, have a random vocabulary word generator spit out five or so words. Check their meanings and jot down a little story or thought that includes all five. You get more familiar with beautiful and descriptive language, and it gives you a much narrowed prompt (which is lovely if you're like me and suffer each time there's an open-ended task assigned).

Character moments. Try putting your character into a generic setting and write down almost meticulously what their thought process would be. Follow them realizing they've just stepped in mud or dreading the start of the day. Pick a mundane thing and describe them working through it. This will not only get your writing going, but it will wake up the character's voice in your head.

Ongoing storytelling. Did you know that Whinnie the Poo was A.A. Milne's warm up story? He would jot down a quick little story with those very basic characters and did so every day. Whatever came to mind. He kept writing little tidbits on the same characters and eventually it turned into a series. Having that ongoing plot with isolated scenes and simple characters can help you feel more motivated to sit down and write.

Get-to-know-you-questions. Google a list of basic first-date questions (there are a million out there) and answer one yourself. Go into specifics. Where do you most want to travel and why? Let yourself ramble until the question is fully answered.

Writer's block blues. This is a favorite of mine. If you're truly stuck, write about being stuck. Eg: 'I'm supposed to write for ten minutse, but that feels so stupid and impossible. No one is goign to read this anyway. I have no ideas and the page is so overwhelming when its blank. I used to be able to write on and on and nothing could stop me. it was like breathing. but now I have nothign and do nothing and I can't even do a stupid prompt-' Even the rambling and ranting got me writing. It made things easier. It made writing this post easier. Also -- notice the typos? Yeah, don't fix those. You're in writing mode, not editing mode when you're doing this. If you edit while you write, you're forcing yourself to stay in your executive and calculating headspace rather than falling fully into creativity and dream. Ignore the mistakes. That's for future you to handle.

I've officially rambled far too much, but I hope that helps even a little bit. Live well and write often, my friends. Best of luck to you <3