#writing babbles

[hypo-spray]

HC that if Lore amicably stayed on the Enterprise both him and Data would move into family style quarters and he’d work for Guinan at Ten Forward as a bar keep/occasional table runner.

It starts out because he has nothing to do, and getting some petty cash gives him a little cushion in case he has another family falling out. What he doesn’t expect is that Guinan becomes the parental figure he was missing.

Everyone else thinks it’s a horrible idea to allow an emotionally unstable android to work customer service. They just barely resolved his whole ordeal with the colony and doesn’t want another case on starfleet hands. But all Guinan sees is potential.

She doesn’t act like he’s a nuisance. Heck, more than anything he reminds her of one of her kids. In the same way she imparts wisdom to the crew, Guinan gives something Lore has always needed. Trust.

So she happily watches as he bickers with crew over incorrect replicator orders, bitter mixed drinks, and general indifferences with the guests. For every situation he overcomes, he gains a better control of his emotions.

Even though Lore doesn’t think the job is that tough, it really tests his limits after a couple work shifts. Some days he just wants to hide away before lashing out during a rush. Guinan is usually there, with a knowing look, and gives him an early break to decompress.

She probs becomes his confidant on many things and a source of comfort when nothing seems to make sense. Sometimes she listening to him vent about his worries, other times Guinan’s just waxing on and recollecting experiences from her long life.

[funwithnix]

writing fiction will make you into a gibbering insane person because I regularly think things like man. i miss talking to [character], hope shes okay. and the character I must stress does not actually exist. she is not a person i can speak to, she is my own mind. a figment of my imagination conjured forth to consult for her actions on the page.

[funwithnix]

Completely untrue I wrote almost 100,000 words for a character and ships that got no reads except me while I was writing them and I never read them after publishing because I don't want to confront my own writing and have to contend with thinking it's bad now

the issue with writing for yourself is that you will get sucked into rereading your own fic over and over and pretend it’s “editing,” but really you’re just reading because it’s exactly what you want to read. because you wrote it. for you.

[dollyfetti]

🫧🎀 unwinding with bakugou includes:

♡ him letting you ramble about literally ANYTHING while untangling your messy hair from your claw clip/scrunchie/bonnet

♡ him massaging your feet while watching your joint show ^^

♡ him cutting your leftover steak from dinner into tinier pieces for you to finish (he won’t have you sleep on an empty stomach)

♡ he doesn’t take any phone calls after a certain time. he likes spending his nights with you only, catching up on each other’s days while basking in the lovely presence of one another :(

♡ likes making u feel pretty even late at night when you’re covered in pimple patches, eyes all droopy with tiredness, etc. kisses ur entire face and body, and i personally like to think that during the nighttime when he’s not fighting crime and dealing with all the bullshit of the world, he gets super super soft. so like.. imagine him gushing (in his own way) over your sleepy state UEIWUSDJJAJ

[bunny-jpeg]

john price taking you raw dog in the back of his shitty truck, and leans towards the radio and turns up the song playing. how deep is your love belts through the scratchy speakers as he got you near a chokehold, his cock hitting against all the sweetest spots.

the truck is rocking quickly, tucked away on a dirt road as the windows fogged up. only way for a captain to get his hands on his favourite private nowadays. the song hits the chorus as he works his cock deeper, harder, faster into you. his pace was unrelenting.

he leaned over you further, his cock somehow going deeper as he cheekily asked, "yeah, petal, how deep is your love?" <3

[laurasimonsdaughter]

If you want to write stories and you feel like you're not managing to write the way you want to, maybe you haven’t found your medium yet.

I’m not talking about making money, I’m not talking about getting some agent or publisher to see money in your work. I’m talking about you, writing what you want to write.

I love writing. I do not love writing novels. They hurt me, physically. I have been so much happier since I stopped trying to force myself to write novels and disappeared into my flash fiction and short stories.

Maybe novels aren’t your thing either. And maybe short stories aren’t! Maybe your words want to be poured into poems, or songs, or TTRPG campaings, or drabbles, or podcasts, or anecdotes, or (screen)plays, or something else entirely!

There are so many ways to be a writer, and even more to be a storyteller. You don’t have to let yourself be bullied by a medium that does not suit your creativity.

[staybabblingbaby]

'You faint and try to hide it from him' [Changbin]

I figured I'd finally fulfill the birthday prompts that I'd gathered so far this year on MY birthday, cos, well. It's funny ^^;; If it's posted on a birthday it's still a birthday prompt, right? Right. Anyways, enjoy! This one is for @brbwritingfanfic , happy (very very extremely holy shit its so) late birthday! It's really short, but I thought it was cute lol. Anyways, behold! Your prompt!

Enjoy <3

Masterlist

(p.s, if you're a moot of mine, and you have a prompt and a gift-able holiday coming up, I'm always taking requests <3)

My permanent Tag List <3 :@mbioooo0000 , @thatgirlangelb , @chancloud8 , @sh0dor1 , @holdmeclosertinyrapper , @raineandcl0uds

[eeriefeelingsat3amuwu]

hdhahdhajfbajdnaudb Okay having Thoughts™️ about some of these ‘Odysseus raises Astyanax’ fics. Because. Because if we’re talking about the full odyssey experience. If Astyanax were to survive. He would have spent 11 years of his life growing up with Odysseus as his father. Now, to the main area of thought - Telemachus. Imagine. Imagine being a child, hearing of your father only in stories. From your mother, the servants, your grandparents. Seeing your grandmother succumb to her grief, seeing your mother grow sadder by the day, more sullen, seeing your grandfather withdraw into himself, all because of your father.

The man you are told you look like, the man who left for war, six, eight, eleven, fifteen, TWENTY years ago, left your home in disrepair, left your mother and you to deal with suitors disrespecting your house and name, the man who you are so angry at, yet Also worship as a god, because you don’t have a CHOICE. You can’t love him, you don’t KNOW him, but you love him in the way you love your gods - distant, unknowable, unreachable, and yet you have his face, your mother sometimes gates at you with these sad, sad eyes and you know she’s not really seeing you when she tells you she loves you.

You know he is a man, logically, how could he not be when your mother still remembers every calous on his hands and your grandfather tells you of how he almost set his room on fire one day, but he is only a legend to you. You hear other Kings, Kings from the same war your father left for (they came back, they are already back and he is still gone) discussing him, you hear how he helped end the war with your and your mother’s name on his lips and YET! He’s not here, he’s not here but he can’t be dead, because everyone agrees that he is too stubborn to die.

And then. He is back. And he has a boy with him. A boy who is younger than you, still just a child. And he regards the boy as his own, introduces him to you as ‘your brother’. He hasn’t dishonoured your mother, he took the child from the burning city of Troy because he is merciful and kind and you see it in the way the boy hugs him and calls him papa. And you should be happy, your father is back, you have a sibling now, your mother finally smiles properly again, your grandfather no longer cries when he sees you.

But. This boy. The boy your father brought from Troy. He got all that you have ever wanted: he got your father, from the moment he was Born he got your father, he was there for his first steps, his first words, he taught him how to sail, fight, read, count, he has been there with him through it all and you have never wanted anything more. ‘This child is not his son’ says that hateful, angry voice in your head.

You spend time with your father. He weeps, hugs you. Tells you he’s proud of the man you are now. Teaches you how to rule, it is your birthright, he says. He goes hunting with you and tells you he loves you and that the thought of you and your mother got him through many a peril. You spend time with your brother, you make him laugh, he loves you, clings to you just as much as he clings to your father, you teach him more about Ithaca, the way it is now, because he’s only heard stories. And still, in the back of your mind, you know you hate the child. You despise him with every fiber of your heart even if your mind knows he is not to blame - and that he has dealt with the same thing, just opposite to you.

Whereas you had a home, your mother and the rest of your family, but yearned for more than just the memory of your father, wanted for freedom, the boy had him, in the flesh, soothing his nightmares and teaching him to live, had the open sea and the deck of a ship, the capability to go anywhere, he lacked the stability that you had and despised. He didn’t know his grandfathers, would never get to know his grandmother, only had a memory of a mother and a brother, saw them as saints, as a reason to keep pushing forth.

You are opossites. You don’t know how it happened, as the child is not hers, but your brother looks like your mother where you are clearly your father’s son, yet your personalities seem to have been switched. You’re calmer, much more subdued, you don’t smile easily and are weaker of will. Your brother is loud and boisterous, quick to crack a grin and so, so Brave.

You still get the compulsion to bow to your father whenever he enters a room, to touch him to make sure he is real, at times. He sometimes wakes screaming, seeing horrors that you could not imagine in his sleep and doesn’t feel comfortable in a proper bed for years. He sets the curtains on fire and your father laughs in relief and he holds him to his chest. Your own chest cleaves in two.

Just. Is this anything?

[billiesgoodgirll]

you’re camrea roll if you were billies girlfriend ! ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

i love making these so so so much <3

[dear-aubade]

Hello, i really like everything you write about Joel, i am so in love with him😭💕

-

What if reader has been having some insecurities lately and Joel fcks her in front of a mirror, worshipping her and telling her how beautiful she is🎀💖

Here you go anon, hope you like it!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You start pulling away from Joel because you’re having doubts about yourself. Joel decides to do something about it.

Notes: smut, p in v, Joel pulls out, praise, body worship, reader has body dysmorphia, reader has insecurities, soft!Joel, dom!Joel, sub!reader, mirror sex

A/n: Yes, I put a Pride and Prejudice reference in there (iykyk 😘)

“Give yourself a compliment.”

The past few weeks, you had been having some…doubts, to say the least. Before, it had been just you and Joel fending for yourselves out in the woods, traveling West. Just you and Joel against the world.

Then you found Jackson.

Oh, what a haven it was. Even if Joel’s brother hadn’t been here, even if you knew nobody in town, you still would have convinced Joel to stay. They had hot water, heating, and goddamn coffee of all things? Yeah. You guys were sticking around.

Not only were you able to shower once a day, but your diet had also changed drastically. Instead of only eating a couple sticks of jerky and some crackers for dinner each day, you had the luxury of consuming steamed broccoli, roast pork, and such excellent boiled potatoes—it had been many years since you’d had such an exemplary vegetable. Now you always went to bed with a full belly.

The diet change was reflected in the way you looked. You could no longer see your ribs through your skin, and your thigh gap was gone. Your eyes looked less sunken, your cheekbones less protruding. Your hips were a little rounder, your tummy a little softer. And you knew that it was a good thing, that it meant you were getting over the malnourishment and becoming healthy again, that you were at a perfectly normal weight for your height—you knew that.

But a small part of your brain whispered otherwise. It didn’t matter if it was healthy or not, it didn’t matter if you had looked like a walking skeleton before, you were getting bigger. You started to wonder if it was getting harder for Joel to lift you during your activities in the bedroom. You started to wonder if he didn’t know what to do with each pound you gained, if he preferred you when you were smaller and lighter, even if you had only been skin and bones.

And so you started to pull away.

You still pleasured Joel, of course. You’d wake him up with your mouth on him, or kiss him while grinding on his bulge. But each time he tried to pull at your clothes to return the favor you’d shake your head and give him some lame excuse like I’m tired, or I promised Maria I’d go help her organize the inventory lists.

Eventually Joel had had enough. He sat you down and kept pushing and pushing, trying to know what was the matter. And oh…his callused hands cupping your face had been so gentle. His eyes had been so soft. You had confessed everything then and there through your tears.

Which brought you to now.

You were in the bathroom in just your bra and panties with Joel standing behind you, one hand gently lingering on the small of your back as you both faced the mirror.

“Give yourself a compliment,” Joel repeated.

Your brow creased and you shook your head. “I can’t,” you whispered.

Joel met your gaze in the mirror. “Come on, sweetheart. You—”

You shook your head again, tears blooming in your eyes.

Joel stood there for a few moments, his hand still stroking over the small of your back. Soon he spoke. “Well, I’ll start, then,” he said, his voice tender. “That alright with you, darlin’?”

He didn’t give you time to reply. He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed an achingly soft kiss to the back of it. “I love your hands,” he whispered. “Look at ‘em—so small, so soft. I like it when you use ‘em to run through my hair, or when I hold your hand as we walk through town.”

He moved his hand up to gently hold your chin. “And your face—my gorgeous girl. And those eyes… I love when you let me hold your cheek as I kiss those soft lips…”

Joel kissed the sensitive patch of skin beneath your jaw and your breath hitched. You could feel his smile against you as he moved down, kissing along your neck to your shoulder. His hands went to your hips and squeezed.

You hesitated, doubt filling you. “Joel—”

“Ah, I’m not done yet.” He kneaded at the softness on your hips and thighs. “Oh…I love this piece of you, honey…grabbin’ onto these hips every time I wanna tell everyone you’re mine, or when I’m drivin’ into you in the bedroom.”

Your breath caught at that, cheeks flushing the same color as the strawberries that Maria was starting to grow for the town.

Joel chuckled and before you knew it your bra was unhooked and tossed across the room, but that didn’t matter because the moment it was gone Joel’s hands were there. You gasped again as he started to gently squeeze, thumbs flicking over the peaks.

“And these,” he went on, voice dropping lower. “You’re so soft, babygirl, ‘specially these pretty tits. Just wanna kiss ‘em and bite ‘em all day every day.” He pinched one of your nipples and you whimpered. You could feel his bulge pressing into you from behind.

One of his hands stayed working on your breast as the other flattened and smoothed down the front of your torso. “And this pretty tummy…makes me so happy to see you like this, baby. Full of food every night. It means I’m doin’ my job providin’ for you.”

Joel’s relentless touching was really getting to you. You were damp between your legs by now surely.

“And here…” Joel slid his hand past the waistband of your panties and you whimpered as his fingers stroked along your wetness. He let out a breath that was nearly a groan. “I love feelin’ you here, sweetheart. Feelin’ you clench around me as you finish, gettin’ that hazy look in your eyes…”

He pushed two fingers into you and you whined, arching your back against him. “Joel—”

“Shh,” he whispered. He mouthed at your neck and curled his fingers to stroke along your front wall. “Look at you, darlin’.” When you were nice and ready, he retracted his fingers. You whimpered at the loss, but it soon turned into a gasp as he unzipped his pants and pushed his length into you.

You let out a soft moan and closed your eyes at the feeling. Oh…he was so big, so—

He nipped at your neck and your eyes flicked open with a gasp. “Eyes on yourself, pretty girl. Want you to see how gorgeous you are takin’ me.”

At that, hesitation won over arousal for a split second. “Joel, I don’t…”

He kissed the part of your neck he bit, his affection so tender it made your heart swell. “You trust me?”

You nodded.

“You can do this, baby. Watch. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You bit your lip, then nodded again.

Joel grinned. “Good girl,” he cooed. “Put your hands on the counter.”

You did as he asked. The white porcelain was cold against your palms, but one of Joel’s big hands came to rest atop one of yours. The other grabbed your hip.

Then he started to move.

You let out a moan as he dragged along your walls. It had been so long since you both had done this and he was filling you so well, making it hard to breath, hard to see, hard to think…

“Eyes open, baby.”

They had closed in your feeling of ecstasy and you hastily snapped them open. Sex with Joel was always erotic, but actually watching it happen in the mirror like this…

He reached down to thumb at your clit and you let out a soft whine. Joel chuckled. “Needy girl,” he murmured. He let out a groan into your neck. “So warm, darlin’.”

Joel thrust into you deeper and put a hand on your stomach. “Another thing I love,” he whispered, “is when I make it so you can feel me all the way up in this pretty tummy.”

You mewled at that. There was a white-hot fire in your lower belly and it ached and you didn’t know if you wanted the fans flamed or extinguished or—

“Look how pretty my babygirl looks when she’s takin’ me,” Joel murmured.

Your eyes were half-lidded in the mirror, breasts moving with every thrust up into you. There was a flush around your cheekbones and nose and your lips were softly parted as Joel took you.

“Mmm.”

“Oh?” Joel kept rubbing circles into your clit as your hips squirmed. “Was that an agreement, sweet girl?”

You hesitated. Your mind was too blissed out to think clearly. “I—“

“Does my pretty baby see how I see her now?” A particularly well-placed thrust from Joel had you keening. “How beautiful she is?”

You whined and rocked back against him. Something was building inside you, a tight coil right between your legs, and it was too hot, too hot, and you…you needed…

“Fall apart for me, sweetheart,” Joel breathed.

You did. You let out a high-pitched moan and your walls clenched around Joel’s length, causing him to grunt. Your head swam. Your vision fuzzed. You barely even registered Joel pulling out and his spend landing on the back of your thigh.

Your legs shook and you let out a pathetic whine. Joel was quick to scoop you into his arms. “I gotcha, babygirl,” he whispered, kissing your cheek as he carried you to the bedroom. “Gotta lay on your tummy so I can clean you up, yeah?”

You nodded and let him place you on the bed face down. Your entire body felt like it was melting.

Joel left for the bathroom and soon returned with a warm washcloth to gently wipe between your legs and at his spend on the back of your thigh. When he was done he took you into his arms.

Chest to chest, he smiled down at you and pushed hair back from your face. “Hi pretty girl.”

You smiled back. “Hi,” you whispered.

His thumb caressed your cheekbone for a moment. “I know your feelings about yourself aren’t going to disappear overnight and that’s okay, but…you think you can give yourself a compliment now?”

You blushed, then nodded. “I like it when you make my cheeks flush.” Your voice was small, shy.

“Yeah?” Joel’s eyes sparkled. “How come?”

“Because I think I…” You swallowed. “I think I look pretty like that.”

Joel grinned. “Yes you do, baby.” He held you close. “Yes…you most definitely do.”

[hypo-spray]

Another HC I have for an enterprise resident Lore is that he gets into writing.

It’s a surprisingly freeing field for him. He writes under an anonymous name. Maybe it starts as a series of poems but then goes into short stories.

The anonymity of it allows him to process his anger and grief, really any strong emotions he’s having, into substantial pieces of work. Big Miyazaki vibe, he imagines these lovely stories to balance out the depressive reality of living.

Does he publish? Maybe there’s a routine call for anthology submissions, or a publisher that he serendipitously meets in Ten Forward (working his bartender job if you’ve seen my other Lore AU post).

Another funny twist is he writes a couple bodies of work that end up surprisingly successful, but unfortunately get butchered to hell and back by editors looking to expand the audience base. With the sway of popularity and a contract looking to be renewed he finally wrings his publisher for more control of edits during renegotiations. Another tinge of irony comes after poor audience reviews for the new book absolutely tank his readership (I mean, who could suspect an out of left field change in tone and story would tear the fanbase in two?).

Imagine the other officers and residents having polarizing takes on the book, friendships being tested over personal opinions on fictional characters. Lore is in the background like this for the fall out because he doesn’t want to get outed

[funwithnix]

Heartbreaking: I have reached the part of my outline that says "figure it out, future Nix" and now I am future Nix and have absolutely zero ideas whatsoever

[spideesenses]

nsfw babble ! 18+ minors DNI

holy, are you spent

what had started off as an intimate love making kiss, turned into a tearjerking fuck.

your wrist is pinned to your back, the other hand gripping the sheets under you as miguel shoves your face into your pillow as he violently pistons his hips into yours. your muffled moans are music to his ears as you come down from your fifth orgasm of the night. you hear his grunt from behind you as your walls spasm around him. he slows down his pace, gently caressing your back. you pant and whimper at the touch. miguel pulls out of you and you shudder at the feeling.

“you okay baby?” he questions as be flips you over. your hair sticks to your face with your sweat and he chuckles before pushing your hair out of your face, peppering your face with kisses. you can’t help but press the balls of your feet into his butt cheeks, pressing him against you.

he raises his eyebrow with amusement before complying to your needs and slipping back in, watching as your face contorts in pleasure. he could watch you all day.

“mmm ‘want you to come again for me,” you plead, locking your ankles around his waist, forcing him to fill you to the brim. miguel hisses, cursing under his breath.

“i don’t think i can, my love,” he admits, chuckling at your eagerness. he’d already finished twice, and while he’d love to make you come more, the thought of his release again intrigued him.

“no?” you pout. “please?” you ignore his protests. “but i want you to.” you grip his jaw and force him to look at you. miguel loved this side of you. his little cockdrunk love. “i wanna be stuff so full of you.”

reluctantly, he slowly moves his hips, his hand resting beside your head as he gazes into your eyes. you can feel every inch of him. when you didn’t feel like he was close enough to you, you’d press your feet against his butt to make him bottom out into you and your tummy flipped in excitement when his jaw would fall, a small gasp leaving his throat.

your words in your filthy voice echoed in his head.

want you to come again.

please?

but i want you to..

miguel’s pace was painfully slow, but it was working. the sultry look in your eyes was helping him. your hand on his face, oh this was so intimate for him. your other hand gripped his bicep, squeezing it anytime he’d hit that sweet spot in you.

“you gonna come? please? i want you to come for me, yeah, fill me up,” you murmured to him like a mantra.

it hit him quicker than he thought, like a tidal wave. his hips stuttered and he moaned your name, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. his eyes were shut tightly and your hands drew shapes against the skin on his back.

“you okay?” you repeated his question. miguel had been panting. he swore he just blacked out.

“yeah,” he huffed, opening his eyes finally. miguel kisses you feverishly. “you’re so spoiled.” he grins at you.

“and you love it.”

[delinquentkru]

why are people acting like war crimes are being committed in the langdon & mel ao3 tag

[pocmuzings]

welcome  to  a  guide  for  2025  rpc  and  a  throwback  to  the  importance  of  creating  well  rounded  ,  developed  characters  .

a  general  lovenote  and  reminder  on  how  to  create  characters  people  want  to  rp  with  ,  as  discussed  by  g.    please  note  ,  these  are  all  my  own  thoughts  and  feelings  ,  but  i'm  not  '  married  '  to  any  of  this  .  i'm  happy  for  open  conversation  ,  thoughts  ,  feedback  etc  ,  but  i  don't  tolerate  aggressive  messaging  .

the  first  thing  i  think  about  when  i  think about  my  character  ,  whether  for  a  rp  ,  a  book  ,  a  short  story  ,  or  a  1x1  partner  is  .  .  .  where  is  my  character  ?  not  just  physically  ,  but  emotionally  .  what  got  them  there  ?  what  have  they  already  overcome  ?  what  do  they  have  LEFT  to  overcome  ?

whenever  i  write  or  create  a  character  ,  i  think  about  them  in  the  same  way  i  think  about  any  story  making  .  stories  (  typically  and  in  some  manner  )  have  beginnings  ,  climaxes  and  ends  .  they  also  have  problems  that  need  to  be  solved  (  or  not  solved  )  .  there's  an  arc  we  follow  .  we  go  up  the  mountain  ,  then  back  down  again  .

a  beginning  is  not  necessarily  '  born  in  1982  ,  to  two  loving  parents  '  .  it  doesn't  need  to  be  a  beginning  of  time  ,  but  can  just  be  the  beginning  to  your  characters  story  .  e.g  '  despite  having  two  loving  parents  ,  she  had  a  deep  focus  on  soccer  .  if  not  soccer  ,  then  maths  .  if  not  maths  ,  something  else  .  from  a  young  age  ,  she  strove  for  perfection  and  being  the  best  at  something  .'

this  beginning  sets  the  tone  of  your  character  .  in  a  few  sentence  ,  we  can  already  see  what  kind  of  person  she  is  and  know  that  she  has  some  internal  demons  she's  battling  .  we  don't  necessarily  need  her  entire  family  tree  unless  it's  critical  to  the  story.

from  there,  we  have  our  climax  or  problem  statement  ,  where  things  really  begin  to  boil  .  again  ,  it  doesn't  necessarily  need  to  be  '  everything  came  to  a  head  when  her  mother  died  '  .  we  can  make  it  more  character  focused  by  writing  '  in  2012  ,  her  mother  died  and  she  threw  herself  into  trying  to  create  the  perfect  replacement  family  .  she  got  married  to  4  different  men  in  the  space  of  5  years  ,  and  has  5  children  shared  among  them  ,  as  well  as  2  step  children  .  but  she  is  unable  to  settle  down  .  she  feels  restless  .  she  finds  it  hard  to  be  a  mother  because  everything  reminds  her  of  her  own  mother  ,  and  the  loss  she's  endured  .  '  now  ,  we  already  know  two  things  about  our  character  :

1  .  she  wants  to  be  perfect  and  the  best  ,  including  at  creating  families

2  .  she  is  terrified  of  her  role  in  motherhood  due  to  the  loss  of  her  own  mother  and  feeling  unmoored  without  her

this  can  then  take  us  to  the  problem  solving  portion  of  the  character  .  this  is  usually  where  i  like  to  start  my  character  in  rps  and  1x1  and  novel  worlds  .  we  have  these  2  issues  and  2  core  beliefs  within  the  character  .  they're  instrumental  to  her  .  how  are  we  going  to  overcome  it  ?  ARE  we  going  to  overcome  it  ?

we  can  begin  to  think  of  the  butterfly  effect  in  terms  of  our  character  .  we  can  begin  to  think  of  the  tree   and  its  branches  growing  within  her  ,  extending  out  to  other  characters  .  we  can  see  how  she  effects  other  people  ,  including  those  close  to  her  ,  not  close  to  her  ,  new  friends  ,  old  friends  ,  new  love  interests  ,  past  interests  .  we  can  create  drama  and  connections  because  we  have  a  strong  foundation  .

so  .  where  does  it  end  ?  does  it  need  to  end  happily  ?  simple  answer  is  no  .  your  character  can  end  in  the  exact  same  place  as  they  did  at  the  beginning  ,  but  the  point  is  that  we've  gone  on  the  journey  with  the  character  .  maybe  we've  seen  her  talk  to  her  mother's  grave  .  maybe  we've  seen  her  go  to  grief  counselling  .  maybe  she's  gotten  pregnant  or  married  again  .  the  problem  statement  doesn't  stop  her  or  stick  her  in  one  place  .  in  fact  ,  if  anything  ,  it  can  encourage  her  to  keep  making  the  same  mistakes  .  on  the  coin  flip  ,  she  can  learn  .  she  can  grow  .  she  can  heal  .  she  can  mend  the  relationships  with  her  kids  ,  her  past  partners  ,  rekindle  love  ,  or  find  new  love  .  the  whole  point  in  the  made-up  'ending'  for  a  character  ,  is  that  we  have  options  .  we  haven't  locked  her  down  .  we  can  continue  to  plot  ,  connect  ,  develop  ,  etc  ,  as  we  go  along  .

QUESTIONS  AND  THOUGHTS  I  CONSIDER  WHEN  CREATING  A  CHARACTER  :

how  has  your  character  ended  up  where  they  are  right  in  this  moment?  think  about  where  you’re  starting  them  from,  and  what  that  looks  like  realistically.  not  just  physically  :  how  did  they  get  to  this  place  ?  but  also  mentally  :  what  did  they  have  to  do  to  become  the  person  they  are  ?  was  it  good  or  bad  ?  everything  you  are  and  do  and  become  as  a  human  is  made  up  of  tiny  almost  inconsequential  decisions  or  choices  you  made.  you  decided  to  study  x.  you  broke  up  with  y.  your  parent  passed  away  so  you  had  to  come  back  to  your  childhood  home.  your  illustrious  career  came  crashing  down  and  you  need  a  place  to  cool  off.  you  never  left  here,  you’ve  been  here  from  the  beginning,  because  you’re  searching  for  something.  what  is  it?  what  is  the  thing  that  has  your  character  right  where  they  are  in  this  exact  moment  ? 

what  emotion  do  they  feel  the  most?  regret,  anger,  longing,  nostalgia  ?  this  helps  drive  your  characters  motives  past  and  presently.  it  also  helps  you  understand  their  goals.  what  they  want  to  achieve  and  why.  maybe  they  yearn  for  longing  and  friendship  and  connection  because  they  never  got  it  as  a  child,  whether  at  home  or  at  school.  maybe  they  regret  not  keeping  in  touch  with  their  childhood  friends  because  now  they  are  surrounded  by  people  they  can’t  trust  and  work  in  a  shitty  environment  where  you  have  to  climb  over  others  to  get  on  top.  everyone  has  a  goal.  everyone  has  an  emotion  that  drives  it.  what  is  your  characters  and  why  does  it  matter?  how  does  it  present? 

when’s  the  last  time  they  cried  and  why?  everybody  cries  and  everybody  cries  in  very  different  ways.  it  says  a  lot  about  the  emotional  state  of  a  character  and  their  emotional  health.  are  they  in  tune  with  their  emotions  and  cry  at  appropriate  times?  do  they  compartmentalise  it?  do  they  only  cry  when  angry?  dig  into  it  and  think  of  the  why  why  why.  why  does  my  character  only  cry  at  this  one  thing?  why  does  my  character  only  feel  safe  crying  alone?  why. 

what  is  your  characters  biggest  regret  in  life?  did  they  get  on  a  plane  when  they  should  have  stayed?  did  they  study  a  subject  only  because  their  parents  wanted  them  to?  did  they  not  kiss  the  girl  when  they  wanted  to?  let’s  be  honest.  our  lives  are  filled  with  “if  only  i’d  done  xyz”  .  if  only  .  this  also  provides  a  great  opportunity  to  MAKE  these  plots  and  plot  with  other  people.  now  we  can  come  up  with  exes  or  ex  best  friends  or  old  flames  or  whatever  whatever  ,  because  there’s  a  good  chance  your  character  regrets  something  that  impacts  someone  else  and  they  regret  it  BECAUSE  of  that  impact  . 

ADDITIONAL  THOUGHTS  AND  TIPS  I'VE  PICKED  UP  WHILE  RPING

honestly  the  more  “whys”  you  can  answer  for  your  character,  the  more  in  depth  you’re  getting.  in  order  for  other  people  to  understand  your  character,  you  need  to  understand  them  yourself.  you  can’t  expect  people  to  write  with  your  character  if  they  don’t  really  have  much  of  a  stable  personality  and  your  plots  don’t  make  much  sense.  remember:  plotting  should  contribute  to  your  character  and  their  development.  human  relationships  don’t  just  exist  because  we  like  them.  they  exist  because  they  serve  an  unserved  part  within  ourselves. 

genuinely  think  of  their  hobbies.  it’s  all  well  and  good  to  say  “she’s  a  bookworm  and  loves  puzzles”  “he  likes  music”  but  like.  what  does  that  actually  mean?  WHY  do  they  like  certain  things  ?  do  they  like  reading  books  or  writing?  do  they  like  fantasy  and  escapism  because  it  reminds  them  of  childhood?  do  they  listen  to  only  their  dads  favourite  music  because  they  miss  him?  do  they  make  playlists  for  niche  and  specific  moods  only  applicable  to  them?  why  are  their  hobbies  important  to  them? 

consider  their  connections,  not  just  future  but  npc  and  current.   how  would  5  close  friends  describe  them  in  one  word?  how  would  their  ex  describe  them  in  one  word?  what  is  one  thing  that  others  could  safely  always  rely  on  your  character  for  (eg  designated  driver  on  nights  out,  always  having  some  type  of  fidgeting  device,  knowing  a  phone  app  to  help  you  meditate  or  streamline  a  process  etc  etc).  we  all  exist  in  the  worlds  of  our  loved  ones,  past,  present  and  future.  we  leave  marks  with  them.  we  are  known  to  them.  so  what  is  your  character  known  and  loved  for? 

pick  your  plot  first,  not  your  fc  or  your  character.  i  know  this  sounds  counterintuitive  but  when  you  have  a  plot  for  a  character  and  a  clear  path  for  development  -  it  helps  everything  else  fall  into  place.  the  worst  thing  are  characters  that  are  plotless  (specifically  for  group  rping).  i’m  going  to  be  honest  here:  your  character  has  to  have  something  to  give  other  characters.  whether  it’s  drama,  information,  hidden  secrets,  a  connection…  your  character  has  to  have  something  of  substance.  i’d  actually  prefer  they’re  a  stereotype  then  they’re  just  aimless  and  personality-less.  when  you  have  a  big  overarching  plot  and  path  for  your  character,  it  will  not  only  help  you  plot  with  others,  but  also  help  keep  your  character  moving  and  not  JUST  reliant  on  others  to  pick  up  the  slack

rping  has  always  used  the  yes  and…?  rule.  that  extends  to  your  characters.  instead  of  yes  and…?  think  of  So…  what?  your  character  loves  to  bake.  ok.  so  what?  what  does  that  mean  for  a  thread,  or  another  character?  why  do  we  care?  maybe  we’d  care  if  your  character  bakes  experimental  stuff  and  loves  to  test  it  on  other  muses.  maybe  we’d  care  if  your  character  used  to  be  a  professional  baker  but  hasn’t  baked  lovingly  in  a  while.  maybe  we’d  care  if  your  character  is  a  baker  but  has  lost  their  charm  and  schtick  and  can’t  bake  the  way  they  used  to.  this  stuff  is  important.  don’t  just  stick  arbitrary  things  onto  your  character  and  expect  others  to  care,  especially  when  you  don’t  care  and  have  just  put  it  on  your  character  as  a  random  quirk.  that’s  not  how  people  and  humans  work.  everything  means  everything. 

your  character  doesn’t  have  to  be  likeable  but  they  do  have  to  be  memorable.  evil  nasty  girls,  manipulative  jerks…  yeah  that’s  all  ok!  but  also  you  kinda  have  to  show,  don’t  tell.  you  can’t  just  SAY  your  character  is  the  “head  bitch  in  charge”  and  then  she  never  actually  talks  or  says  anything  or  does  anything.  sorry,  but  in  order  for  me  to  see  your  character,  you  actually  have  to  write  them  or  at  the  very  least  headcanon  them.  otherwise,  they’re  just  a  blob  of  musings  in  the  ether. 

in  order  to  create  a  character  ,  you  have  to  write  your  character  .  i  see  this  a  lot  in  groups  ..  people  love  to  create  a  character  pinterest  ,  graphics  ,  aesthetics  galore  .  its  amazing  !  but  they  don't  actually  write  the  character  and  it  can  close  off  a  lot  of  opportunities  to  plot  because  people  don't  know  who  your  character  really  is  .  i  hate  to  say  it  ,  and  its  not  true  for  everyone  but  :  if  you're  relying  on  aesthetic  ,  then  you  could  be  lacking  in  the  actual  creation  and  writing  aspect  .  plus  ,  people  have  come  here  to  WRITE  with  YOU  .  not  just  see  fan  edits  of  your  character  .  write  .  write  badly  .  write  starters  ,  even  if  they  scare  you  .  write  with  people  you  don't  know  .  write  with  yourself  .  write  with  your  best  friend  .  but  you  have  to  actually  do  the  writing  part  .

[detectiveposting]

my stages of watching columbo

1: hahah hes just a silly detective ;)

2: columbo is actually a cunning manipulative liar that hides his true persona behind the facade of a slow and clumsy middle class detective

3: hahah hes just a silly detective ;)