There are two types of characters I think we all struggle to write at some point - be it playing them ourselves or playing them against other people. The anti-villain/villainous types as well as the ‘bitchy’ characters — they’re generally mean, have a hard-edged demeanor that makes talking to them a bit intimidating sometimes. They always seem to have snappy, witty remarks or know just what to say to get your character’s blood boiling.
So, how do you write one?
Tone is one factor.
Words can be carried a number of different ways - by tone and body movement. Is their voice rough? Do they speak with an irritated tone? Is it deadpan? Sarcastic? Defensive? Blase? Abrasive? Authoritative and demanding?
Now, with that in mind, think of mean things to say - they might not be things you would say but they’re probably what your character would say. Meaner characters generally tend to lack a ‘polite’ filter, they’re more crass - and while what they say may not be honest, it sounds honest with the tone. Think of the things you think about saying or do actually say when you’re mad - sometimes that’s an easier approach. Is what they said just a throwaway comment?
Along with tone, phrasing is important - a simple ‘what?’ can sound very upfront and demanding if it’s got an abrupt tone and uptight reaction. Mediator comments and passive ones aren’t typically used by these types of characters - though sometimes it will be used mockingly to taunt the person (but they can also be sincere if they want to be). For example, “I understand that…” versus “I know you…” What they say is more direct, more finger-pointing like they’re out to blame or accuse someone, even with assumptions, they sometimes even lack the ownership of ‘I’ and use ‘you’ and/or ‘they’ instead when it comes to owning up to things. It’s like a redirection away from them to make the conversation about the other person or to make the person feel like they should take responsibility or blame for whatever it is your character is saying.
If you don’t know what to say, think about their gestures, their movements.
Are they huffy? Do they get defensive and cross their arms over their chest, closing themselves off to the world because how dare you? Do they kick their foot up a little or take a confrontational route by getting closer to the person they’re talking to? Are they the physical type (leans towards controlling when this route is taken), do they grab wrists or elbows? Or do they shove and swat/slap? What’s their demeanor like? Is it really intimidating, standoffish, nonchalant, reserved…
Body language makes up a huge part of our communication - so it makes sense that their communication also would rely on that. The body can say more than words can. Mean/bitchy characters tend to be more confrontational - they aren’t afraid to say what’s on their minds, be it alone or in a group of people. Sometimes what they say/do has a motive (big or small, from getting a crowd to laugh at their target or to sabotage their target’s career), and sometimes it plain doesn’t and they just say something snarky because it’s a natural thing to do.
And why do they do it? Is it a defense/coping mechanism of some kind? How were they treated by their parents, siblings, friends, and other peers? What did they experience for them to behave like that? While sometimes the answer may not be readily available and it’s easier to say “they’re just that way,” try to find a reason - don’t use that reason to justify their behavior but to explain it, because once you can find a reason they’re like that, the easier it is to find resources on how people behave and depending on how they coped with it.
*They will more readily jump on the defense when anyone tries to insult them, attack their character or talk to them about something serious that may be effecting the other person.
It’s similar to writing villains. They have a more assertive or aggressive stance in conversations, sometimes they’re meant to challenge the plot and characters, and sometimes their roles can be really antagonistic in general because of that even with personable traits involved to humanize them.
The easiest transition I can think of as a base is giving them witty and sarcastic remarks. What I want you to do is think of phrases such as:
Oh, golly, gee
I wasn’t aware that…
Read them with a condescending and/or sarcastic tone in mind - imagine your character rolling their eyes, shifting from hip to hip and canting their head. Imagine your character looking at their opposite incredulously with dagger eyes or a complete look of indifference as they deliver those words deadpan.
Visualizing what they do/react and hearing how they say it can really help make that transition from taking a simple line that could be comedic into something rude. Keep in mind, though, that they’re not always mean - and can just say things flatly or be humorous even if what they say might be offensive or upsetting to an extent, because they’re insensitive about a certain topic or don’t care about whose feeling they hurt.
A mean/bitchy character can speak with any and every tone, it’s more their mannerisms and the words they use - they can take something as simple as a compliment and make it sound completely backhanded. And sometimes, they do relent and back down from conversations if their heart just isn’t in it or the effort to cause an upset isn’t arising soon enough. (They can be compared to a bully, they’re encouraged by reactions - so if a character feeds into it, it only fuels them on).
In the RP community, we’re all at a big advantage with being able to format our texts for emphasis and providing gifs for our characters reactions. While that may not always help, it’s good too. But in paras, try to think about their body movements.
And I know I just gave you all a brief mental task above but now, here’s a miniature assignment:
If you’re struggling with how to find your character’s voice, I suggest writing a 300 to 500 word self/solo para just imagining their bodily movements and gestures. How do they breathe? (Huffy, fast and heavy…) What do they do with their jaw, tongue and cheeks? (Puff them out, clench, bite their tongue/lips). Do they pace around or sit down? What about their hands? Clenched, shoved in pockets, what? But most importantly: what are their thoughts?
Put them in a scenario that gets their mind going with all kinds of thoughts — maybe they’ve just been in a vehicular accident, maybe they’re under a ridiculous amount of stress, maybe they’re attending an event they loathe going to. Now, take one thought and have them blurt it out. Allow them to speak their minds. And see where it takes you (and them). Allow yourself to write freely, don’t try to control/police their voice in this assignment - let them think and say what they want, that can help you get a better grasp on what they’re like/what they say.
Many serious bites reported annually; only a small portion are fatal. Venom has potent cytotoxin, attacking tissue & blood cells. Symptoms often include extreme pain w/ swelling & large blisters in region of the bite.
It all happened on a late June night. Joe was out on a case when his foster son showed up, telling him it was too dangerous. Though he was told to stay in the police car, Barry disobeyed, running towards Joe. It happened in a blink of an eye; the criminal fired his gun at the older man and the bullets shot out as fast as lightning. The twenty four year old jumped in front of them, screaming in agony when the bullets entered his lower back.
“Barry!” Joe cried out, dropping to his knees next to where his son lay. Blood seeped through his plaid blue button down and his arm was twisted behind his back, his face scrunched in pain. In a matter of minutes, the boy was in the back seat of the police cruiser, passed out on the middle aged man.
When they got to the hospital, Joe carried his limp body in his arms, watching nurses scramble around for a stretcher. Joe placed his son on the hospital bed and the doctors rushed him through a set of double doors. They had to do surgery, which meant Joe couldn’t see him until it was over. So, he waited and waited and waited.
It took a long six hours for the surgery to end and another seven and a half for him to wake up. During that time, the doctors told Joe some heavy news. Due to where the bullet hit, his spine was shattered. Joe blocked out the rest of what they said. He just sat there; Iris came a half hour later, keeping her dad company.
The moment Barry batted his eyelashes, Joe and Iris were there, offering him water and another pillow. He smiled at Joe after the water in the plastic cup was gone, reaching a hand out; the wires move with him. “Joe, I told you it was too dangerous.” he coughed, chuckling at his foster father, who bit his lip, tears clouding in his eyes. Barry frowned, dropping his hand and gazing at Iris, whose eyes were also wet. “What’s wro-” Then he noticed something. His feet wouldn’t move, even though he was telling them to - in fact, his legs wouldn’t move. “No.” his voice cracked, “Guys, I can’t feel my legs.”
Being in a wheelchair is a lot harder than Barry thought it would be. One would think the police department would have an automatic door, but no, the CCPD doesn’t. With one hand, Barry pulls the door open, wheeling his chair around to act like a door stop, elbow pushing the door further. As he holds the wood, his other hand moves the joystick, driving inside. “Stupid…doors.” he grumbles, sighing to himself.
He rolls around a group of kids, smiling at a few of them while the teacher talks, and gets to the elevator…only for it to be out of fucking service. Angry tears spring in his eyes but he glares at his lap so nobody will see. He needs the elevator to get to his lab to do his job! Don’t they know that? He thinks they should know that by now.
“Um, excuse me sir, do you work here?” you question timidly, clutching your clipboard to your chest. Your teeth dig into your red bottom lip as you peer around, keeping an eye on the group of thirteen children. “I’m supposed to be meeting Captain Singh…” you peek at your clipboard, “and Detective West and his partner, Detective Thwane? I guess it would help if I knew where to be.” you giggle, staring at the brown haired man, who’s in awe. “Shoot, you probably don’t wor-”
“No, no, I work here.” Barry smiles, showing his little clip on CSI name tag underneath his felt coat. “Barry Allen, forensic scientist, well, I would be, if I could get to my lab.” he jokes, nodding to the out of order sign. You part your lips, shuffling on your red polka dot heels. “Sorry, dark humor.” he waves his hand, chuckling awkwardly, “Um, I can show you to Joe- I mean, Detective West, sorry, he’s my foster father. I usually call him Joe…and why am I tell you all of this?” he trails off, shaking his head.
You giggle, covering your mouth with one of your fingers. “Oh, it’s okay- Kyle! Don’t pull Rachel’s backpack.” you say sternly, watching the small blond first grader slump his shoulders. A sigh leaves your lips and you slowly turn your attention to the handsome man, “So, you were saying?” you ask.
Barry’s long fingers curl around the black thin joystick, green avocado eyes gleaming brightly at you. He tries not to pay mind to your fitting ruby pencil skirt; he has always loved the color red, but now he is seeing it in a completely different perspective. “Right, right, Jo- I mean, Detective West, ahhh!” he hits his armrest, sighing, “He should be…” he mutters, rolling forward into the desk area, “Here. Hi Joe.” he says in a curt tone, lips twitching as if he wants to smile.
Quickly looking over your shoulder, you count the kids. Thirteen, good. The older man grins at the young man, “Hey Barr! Shouldn’t you be in the lab?” he mumbles in a silky voice, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
Barry glares, crossing his arms over his dark blue sweater. “Well, I should be, yes. But, the elevator is out of order, so unless you wanna carry me and my chair downstairs, I can’t really do anything.” he puffs out, biting the inside of his cheek, “Honestly, Joe - I’m sorry, give me a second -” he pleads at you; you nod reassuringly. “Honestly, Joe, how am I supposed to do my job if I can’t get to my lab?!” His hands wave around, finally setting on his neck, rubbing it.’
“What do you want me to do, Barr? I’m not an electrician, son.” the detective sighs, scratching his temple, “I’ll…I don’t know, I’ll figure it out, okay? For now, you can help me set up Miss Y/L/N’s class.” he grins at you, standing up; you return the favor, “Captain Singh is out on a case, but, he should be back soon. Joe West.” He shakes your hand, “Is it okay if I talk to the kids; give ‘em a run down of what’s goin’ on?”
You nod your head, brushing your hair behind ear. “Of course! And, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, not that you…didn’t already know that. Obviously you know that; you were the one I talked to over the phone and you probably did a background ch- I’m going to stop talking now.” you mumble awkwardly, raising your pointer finger in the air while your other hand has the lime green clipboard in a death grip.
Chuckling, Detecti- Joe adjusts his white button down in his suit pants, peering at you then at his son. “Barry here would love to talk to you, wouldn’t you Barry?” he says briskly, walking towards the group of kids before he gets an answer. Curse him and his working legs…
Barry shifts in his wheelchair, grinning up at you awkwardly, “So…you’re a teacher?” You nod your head, hair falling in your eyes. “That’s nice. Hey, maybe you could teach me a lesson sometime!” he chuckles at his pun, stopping immediately after he notices the rosy blush on your cheeks as you bite your lip, eyes focused on the floor. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “Oh, oh god, I didn’t - I didn’t mean it like that! I meant maybe you could show me something new - nope, nope, that sounds worse. I…” Mayday, mayday, ship sinking.
Covering your blush, you glance over at Joe, giggling quietly. Is giggling good? Barry has no clue. Bending down slightly, you lean on his armrest; he looks at you with wide eyes and you gulp. “Sorry, it felt a bit rude talking down to you.” you explain, nibbling your bottom lipstick covered lip. He nods slowly, mouth ajar. “But, um, I know what you mean… Off the record though, I think… you are really adorable.” you say nervously, pecking his cheek.
Then you realize your mistake. Cupping your hands over your mouth, you stare wide-eyed at the bright red lipstick print now on his freckled cheek. “I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, voice muffled by your hands.
Barry shrugs, acting if he’s not freaking out inside. Be cool, Barry, be cool. Don’t do anything embarrassing. “It’s okay!” he squeaks. Squeaks. Come on. “No big deal - oh, look Captain Singh’s here!” he says in one breath, flashing a smile as he pulls his watch up to his face, hand landing on his joystick, “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N, have good day!” he grins, gulping, “Look at the time! I have to run! Ha, get it run? Joe, I’m leaving.” he mutters the last sentence as he passes by the man, keeping his head down.
He pushes the door open, huffing in frustration as he props it open with his elbow. Peering back, he sees you smile and…he feels like he’s going to throw up. Instead of butterflies in his stomach, it feels like a swarm of wasps, stinging him from the inside out. Pressing the joystick harder than he probably should, the wheelchair bolts outside.
Eddie walks by the chair, coffee in hand. He watches the wheelchair zoom towards the ramp on the side of the building. Bringing the file up, he uses it as a makeshift megaphone, “Hey, Barr, don’t you have work?!” he calls out, voice laced in confusion while his blond eyebrows scrunch together.
“Shut up, Eddie!” Barry hollers over his shoulder, not bothering to stop. Eddie shrugs, blinking down at his drink. What’d he miss when he was with Iris on break? Maybe Joe would fill the young detective in.
Prompt: After Astoria’s death, you came back to your previous relationship with Draco, just like it were before. Now the office was his, you could have fun in there, but not without being interrupted by his son, Scorpius.
Warnings: Daddy kink, allusion to marijuana and alcohol
Hey guys! I just finished writing this fic and after many attempts I hope to uplaod this. I hope you like it. It’s for @mel-chan366 because she’s super amazing and as a late Christmas present an @wontchangeforyou as a late birthday present ‘cause she’s v. nice too. Here we go, enjoy!
Title: Of Jumpers and New Years’ Kisses Pairing: Jercy Rating: Teen (I guess) Words: 1,399 Summary: Jason goes over to Percy’s house for Christmas and New Years, and Jason has an ugly jumper and Percy can’t help but comment.
“Oh hi, Jason nice to see you again. Happy Christmas Eve! Would you like to come in, Percy’s just in his room he’ll be out in a minute.” A soft feminine voice pulls Jason out of his thoughts. Jason looks up to see appreciative vivid blue eyes gazing at up at him. It was Percy’s mum - Sally.
“Oh uh, hi Mrs Blofis, happy Christmas Eve and how are you?” Jason says smiling twisting the bag strap on his shoulder.
anyway yeah i wrote a little thing, next time i write turnfreewood it might be domestic, but consider this a start to a series of little ficlets revolving around this lovely threesome
Word Count: 1484
Notes: Takes place some time after this week’s episode of the Patch (#56 i believe), Gav and Meg are already a thing and in their new house, yeah… This is turnfreewood if that isn’t clear, meaning there will be a relationship between Meg, Gavin, and Ryan where they all smoosh together in happy fun times.
Warnings: Mild language, but otherwise none!
“So how did it go?”
Gavin has his legs tucked against his body as he sits at the counter, phone in hand and balanced on top of his knees.
for a by-the-book date! He will tell you promptly when he will arrive
to pick you up and will be there not a minute before or after that
time (and will expect you to be ready). He will be blushing when you
answer the door, and pass you a massive bouquet of red roses while he
mutters something about hoping you like them. He will have allotted
time to put the roses in water properly (he had the florist give him
the proper instructions on rose care) and will help you before you
leave. He will take you for a stroll through the park, dinner at a
popular cafe, and then to a movie following. Every portion will be
timed to what he read somewhere that was appropriate and will follow
these instructions accordingly. The moment things go off schedule he
will become flustered – he’s not prepared for that! He didn’t
mentally rehearse for things to go any other way than exactly as he’d
planned! The moment you suggest going back to the park to look at the
stars he will turn into a tongue-tied mess – he hadn’t planned the
date to go past the movie, and he will be a nervous wreck. However,
he will see the beauty in the spontaneity of it all and will
(briefly) overcome his embarrassment and nerves to take your chin
gently in his hand and kiss you in the park under a streetlamp. It’ll take some coaxing, but once he loosens up, the date happily goes on past what he had planned and the evening is filled with unexpected surprises and trying new things; you will see him openly and genuinely laugh several times throughout the evening.
prefers a date in the late morning and afternoon. He will arrive to
pick you up with a bouquet of white lilies (scented if you like then,
unscented if you’re sensitive to that, and something different if you
don’t like lilies!) He wouldn’t mind walking through a farmer’s
market and window-shopping, perhaps purchasing a neat kind of jam or
wine from a local vendor, pausing to purchase a piece of jewellery
you had been eyeing while browsing. You will leave the market
whenever you’re ready to pursue other markets or do something else.
He will take you for high tea at a local cafe and order the full
course meal (light cucumber sandiness, salmon puffs, small bite-size
quiches followed by shortbread and dainty sweets all accompanied by a
tea of your choice). The afternoon after lunch is to do whatever you
desire! There’s a beach near the tearoom, perhaps strolling
hand-in-hand (note: public display of affection and the red blush
that will bloom on his face during the entirety of it) on the sand,
pausing to skip rocks in the water and exchange silly stories about
your childhoods. He will steal glances at you throughout the date, smiling to himself - how did he ever get so lucky?? He will kiss you on your doorstep when he returns
you safely home.
The only thing he tells you before the date is “dress nice” and
an approximate time he will arrive to pick you up. When he does show
up, he’ll arrive with a flourish, a cheeky grin, and in an expensive
suit. He will take you by the hand and dance you down the street
where he will have a car waiting (you want a hired car. If he drives,
you may not survive to the actual date portion of the evening).
Inside the car, he will pop open a bottle of campaign and toast to
your beauty. The car will deliver you to the ocean where a yacht is
waiting to take you on a private cruise of the harbour. When Italy
plans a special date, he goes all out. You may expect musicians to
serenade you through the most delicious meal you have ever tasted,
you will dance (or attempt to, depending on how many left feet you
have between the two of you) on the deck of the boat while the sun
sets. He will hold your hand and you will happily daydream about the
future, things you want to accomplish, thing’s you’d buy if you won
the lottery, if you could have any super power, what would it be and
why? Afterwards, the car will return you home, but he will request it
drops you off a few blocks from your house. He will walk you home,
hand-in-hand, and pick flowers from the neighbour’s gardens for you
as he goes. He won’t just kiss you when he brings you home, he will
have showered you in innocent and passionate kisses alike throughout
the entire date.
So, this was supposed to be for a five minute fic challenge (wherein I tag my favourite authors), but, like everything else I write, it got out of control. I might try again. Oh, and the picture does not belong to me!
The world will hopefully never know, but Dean Winchester is a giant sap. It’s something he could easily hide before; before Cas and dating and breakfast in bed, but as the golden winter sun peaks up from behind the Earth, bathing the world in golden, purple-pink light, Dean knows it’ll be harder to hide.
Sorry this took me so long, I’m calling this Part 21.5 because I wrote part 22 a while ago but then I needed something to link them up and this happened so yes. Cast Iron.
Cast Iron: Part 21.5
Sometimes, cooking feels like all that Astrid is. All of her emotions, sautéed and seasoned and
served up elegantly on a plate for someone else. It’s a projection, a way to get all of those
awful, conflicting, distracting, big
things out of her. Away. Digested.
Worked through and munched up and obliterated into something manageable
A/N – So this was inspired by this post. You know, ‘enemies’ that are actually friends. And also why is it so easy to writ 3000 words of fic in one hour, while I’ve been working on my dissertation the whole day and nothing is coming forth? Ugh. It’s not like I have time to write fic, but here I am. Gods, help me. Also? It started light, then got heavy, and idk man, not my proudest product, but I couldn’t let the prompt go.
Princess Emma is the crown and heir to the Kingdom of the North. The problem is, Prince Killian is also the crown and heir to the Kingdom of the North. No one knows which kingdom is actually The North Kingdom, and so every other kingdom outside the two simply refer to it as Queen Snow’s Kingdom or King Liam’s Kingdom, respectively, and never directly to their faces – to their faces, they’re always The North Kingdom.
However to hear either side proclaim which is the true North is like asking if dragons swallowed firestone because they can breath fire, or if dragons can only breathe fire because they swallow firestones. Since no one has actually gotten close to a dragon before, this question remains a mystery, much like how two different kingdoms, thousands of paces apart, declared themselves as the North Kingdom.
Also, much like dragons, this animosity over who is right has lasted centuries, making the two neighboring kingdoms rather nippy which each other, if not downright hostile whenever mention of this naming convention is brought up (no one ever brings it up).
Unbeknownst to King Liam or Queen Snow, however, is the long, deep-rooted friendship between the two crown heirs.
ok guys, my donation button is on my page and im about to tell you why
we’re trying to crack down on some important things with little money
we have been fighting bed bugs for a about two years. basically we’ve been dealing with these bugs as long as ive had kids.
our landlord has had an exterminator come in multiple times to try and rid of these things. they just keep coming back.
but now that we owe him rent money again because we have nothing to give, hes more likely to ask us to leave than deal with the bugs while we’re here.
matt and i have been trying to keep the bugs contained so that they only bite us while we try and get things on track, but it doesnt look like thats going to happen anytime soon.
now my kids are getting bitten, and so we are going to try and nip this in the bud ourselves. so i ask your help to donate money if you can or to reblog this and get the word out.
i need to be able to buy bug bombs and covers for things to protect them from bugs along with an abundance of laundry to make sure everything is super clean. anything we can to deal with this problem til more money is coming in from matts new job. (and right now diapers, baby wipes, gas money, car insurance and other house hold things have been taking up the money. also why we havent payed rent lately and our bills are also behind)
our priority is making sure our kids stop getting bit. i hate waking up in the morning and find blotchy red dots in groups of three on their legs or arms. its hiked my anxiety waaay up than what it was when matt and i were the only ones being bit. i keep crying and im at least glad my kids arent allergic to the bites like i am (my bites puff up really bad and scab over, i have scars all over my arm and now matts arm looks about the same)
i wanna make sure this ends. bed bugs are the most terrible thing to have in your home. they are harder to rid of than fleas or cockroaches.