#write write write

[xavixax]

I am my mother's daughter. I might love you to the point of insanity, to the point of anger, to the point of destruction. But I am also my father's child, and I'll stay silent—silent in my suffocated anger and silent in my love for you.

[conindiundrum]

I think if you’re having trouble crafting good characters, you probably aren’t giving them people that they knew growing up. Once you get this they kinda just become a person. Characters who helped mold them in some way before the beginning of the story and contribute to their development later. Lone wolfs are fun to think about but it’s simply not ethical for a dynamic character. Yes they can be alone most of the time. Yes they can prefer to work alone. Yes they can have a tragic past where they lost a lot of people. But they need to have someone in the here and now that knows them well. If this feels like a slap to the face I’d urge you to think of any lone wolf characters you love and ask yourself if they’re actually alone. They’re not. There is someone that won’t hesitate to slap them up side the head and bring them back down to earth. They might feel alone. But they’re not. That person might live across the country or on another world, but they still need to have at least one.

For the record, I’m telling you this as someone who has fallen into this trap so many times and even when I wasn’t going for lone wolf-manic-pixie-sideburn-scratchy throat from all the beer-dream-assassin. It’s one of the many things I’ve noticed I’ve been approaching wrong and I hope you don’t fall into it too.

[tightjeansjavi]

comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity comparison destroys creativity

Everytime I have a negative thought about my writing, or find myself comparing my writing to another writer, I tell myself this: comparison destroys creativity

[starshotspiderz]

Alex Mason who accidentally writes a bunch of numbers instead of your name on a birthday card.

And he just stands there like

Aww...

[emmg]

Very disappointed at the very little food we have going on in the Elgarook tag on ao3 tsk tsk tsk. Here i am, just dipping my toes in for variety, and the buffet isn’t there, cue sad sigh

[gigireece16]

how i’m trying to distract myself in my writing from everything that’s been occurring 😅😅

[okamirayne]

Go your own way…

[coffee-stainedwriting]

Writing Flaws

Yesterday I posted a list of random flaws to give your characters. Today, I'm posting a few tips about writing flaws :) Enjoy

Give your character a few. Everyone has multiple flaws and it's important when writing realistic characters to keep this in mind. Also remember; some are going to be more prominent or visible than others.

Give importance to their flaws. Whether their flaw of being nosy leads them into trouble or a new part of the story, make the flaws count. You don't have to incorporate all of them, or even one for each character, but make the flaws progress. This also helps if you get stuck writing. Another way to make them important is to have a character arc, simple but effective. Remember, it takes time to get out of old habits so even if the character grows they will likely retain bits of their old personality. It also keeps it interesting

Be consistent. Pretty easy to explain, if your character is dogmatic, don't allow them to be all accepting of a new ideology just to make writing easier.

Don't forget the little things. Apply their flaw to small parts of the story, this makes it more believeable and more interesting to read.

Thank you for reading, have a good day!

[waterloou]

a kiss on their palm, then holding their hand against their own face

Jesper came home to a bright and bubbly but very drunk Wylan.

“Jes!” He had barely made it in the door before he was tackled by an enthusiastic Wylan, “you’re home!”

“And you’re drunk!” Jesper tucked a curl behind his ear before kissing Wylan’s cheek.

“So pretty” Wylan cooed, cupping Jesper’s face in his hands.

“You’re so pretty” Jesper responded. Wylan giggled, face turning bright red as he clumsily pressed his lips to Jesper’s chin.

“Oh thank goodness you’re home!” Nina called from the living room, a passed out Matthias on her lap, “thought I’d be taking care of two drunkards.”

“I hardly believe you were sober most of it.”

“You know me well enough to know I have a tolerance.” Nina quipped, “and besides, Matty and Wy had rough days, figured they needed it.”

Jesper turned back to his boyfriend, who had remained insistent on pressing kisses wherever he could reach. Jesper took his hand and kissed his palm before pressing it to his face.

“I say we should get ready for bed, hm? You’re looking a little sleepy”

“Not sleepy,” Wylan pouted.

“Oh you’re soooooo sleepy you wanna cuddle me sooo bad you want to sleep so much” Jesper threaded their fingers together.

Wylan struggled to keep his pout before bursting into giggles.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

I've got you, fam!

I'm trying reeeeeally hard to have another chapter of The Great Pretender out today or tomorrow. Really, really hard! I might succeed!

[gildedbearediting]

Writing Exercise: Letter to my Love

In this cue card exercise, there will be three steps. First, fill out the following details about Marlene, who’s in love with someone at prison. She has [blonde, brunette, ravenette, white, greying, dyed] hair, and [blue, green, brown, hazel, grey, heterochromia] eyes. She has a voice that’s like [pick your descriptor]. She loves [genre] music and [this] is her favourite movie star. She shops…

[xavixax]

I was raised by silence—

taught to listen,

learned to disappear.

I was raised by fire—

taught to burn,

learned to scorch.

I was raised by wind—

taught to howl,

learned to leave.

I was raised by ice—

taught to preserve,

learned to freeze.

Now, my head aches with voices that aren't mine.

My skin doesn't itch—

it fractures.

Which parts are mine?

The rage?

The disappointment?

The ache?

Should I howl—

or suffocate?

[alexa-yukiyu]

Alright guys!!! I did it! I finished one of the requests now I just have to finish editing it!

[ramen-writes]

You stay behind this time around. It's on purpose really. While the others go fight, or in missions and quests you decide to stay back.

Make sure the villagers get their supplies, be the guy in the chair when needed, maybe organize the library while you're at it.

You help them draft the plan and really being the guy in the chair is easier done at home than in a forest with no service.

You can fight, sure but it's not something you prefer doing so why not stay behind?

Well, while you're doing exactly that you get the news that your friends have been captured.

So now you are the one who has to save them.

[miasma-museum]

A cruel irony, this light,

no more than borrowed.

He touched my hand, his warmth, a foreign sun,

and I, a husk of wilted roses, pretended to bloom.

He speaks of kindness, a language I translate

into the sharp, slick edge of a memory,

the way a life slips, a whisper, then nothing.

He sees a saint, polished and new,

but the blood still stains my inner eye,

a mural only I can truly see.

He loves me, this sweet, untainted thing,

and I, a predator in a lamb's fleece,

accept his adoration, a twisted offering.

He trusts the wings, the halo, the lie.

He doesn't know the truths I cradle,

the screams that echo in the hollows of my bones,

and the faces, blurred and broken, that haunt my sleep.

He sees only the surface, a reflection of his own purity,

and I let him.

Each gentle word, a sharpened shard,

a reminder of the chasm between us.

He builds a heaven, while I,

in the quiet corners of my redeemed soul,

contemplate the next descent.

My love is a cage, gilded and cruel,

and he, my beautiful, unknowing captive.

@ask-onyxghoul