(Emotionally. Mentally. Internally. Completely.)
There’s a quiet kind of horror that comes with realizing you’re not okay and can’t fix it. When a character starts unraveling, it doesn’t always look like screaming or smashing things. Sometimes it’s the slow, subtle slipping of the reins...
╰ They overcompensate. Suddenly everything needs to be spotless, perfect, hyper-organized. Their planner is full, their schedule is packed, their smile is pinned on too tight. It’s not control, it’s panic dressed up in structure.
╰ They talk faster, louder or stop talking at all. They dominate conversations so they don’t have to think. Or they fall silent because words feel too risky. Either way, their voice is no longer safe territory.
╰ They get weird about small decisions. Choosing a sandwich becomes a full-body crisis. What should be easy isn’t, because nothing feels certain. It’s not about the sandwich. It’s about everything spinning too fast.
╰ They feel detached. Like they’re watching their life from a distance. They float above the room, disconnected from themselves, and laugh at things they don’t really find funny.
╰ They lash out in ways that don’t fit the moment. It’s never really about what triggered them. They explode over the dishes, or cry because someone asked if they’re okay. Their emotions are no longer matching the moment.
╰ They start avoiding mirrors. They don’t want to look at themselves, because they know. They know something’s off. They know their smile doesn’t reach their eyes. And they can’t face that truth yet.
╰ They apologize too much or not at all. They either spiral into guilt, overexplaining everything. Or they shut off and go stone-cold, too afraid that acknowledging the damage will make it real.
╰ They miss things. Conversations. Appointments. Easy tasks. Their brain is overwhelmed, trying to hold it together, and things slip through the cracks. And when they realize it, they panic more.
╰ They crave control but trust no one. They don’t delegate, don’t ask for help, because what if that help makes it worse? Trusting someone means letting go, and that’s the scariest thing of all right now.
╰ They feel like a passenger in their own life. There’s a version of them who used to be present. Who felt joy. Who wasn’t this… numb, terrified shell. And they don’t know where that person went, or how to bring them back.
10 Traits That Make a Character Secretly Dangerous
❥ Disarming Humor. They’re the life of the party. Everyone’s laughing. No one’s noticing how much they aren’tsaying.
❥ Laser-Sharp Observation. They see everything. Who’s nervous. Who’s lying. Who would be easiest to break. And they don’t miss.
❥ Unsettling Calm. Even in chaos, they stay still. Smiling. Thinking. Calculating.
❥ Weaponized Empathy. They know how to make people trust them. Because they know exactly what people want to hear.
❥ Compartmentalization. They can do something brutal, then eat lunch like nothing happened.
❥ Controlling Niceness. The kind of kindness that’s sharp-edged. You feel guilty for not loving them.
❥ Mirroring Behavior. They become whatever the person in front of them needs. It's not flattery. It’s survival—or manipulation.
❥ Selective Vulnerability. They know how to spill just enough pain to make you drop your guard.
❥ History of “Bad Luck”. Ex-friends, ex-lovers, ex-colleagues… they all left under “unfortunate” circumstances. But the pattern says otherwise.
❥ Unshakeable Confidence in Their Morality. They don’t think they’re the villain. That makes them scarier.
Correct :)
writing is hard when you’re emotionally attached to a character who hasn’t spoken in 30k words and might be imaginary even inside the story but you keep defending them in your notes like they’re your cousin on trial
“I’m Pretending I Don’t Love You” Behaviors
(for that beautiful, painful flavor of self-denial that authors LIVE FOR)
✦ Making fun of everything they do...gently. Like it’s the only way you can touch them.
✦ Telling them to be careful, but saying it like an insult.
✦ Correcting people who get their name wrong, then pretending it didn’t matter.
✦ Staring just a little too long—and then making a sarcastic comment to cover the slip.
✦ Showing up to things “coincidentally” wherever they are. All the time.
✦ Knowing exactly what food they like, but acting like it was a random choice.
✦ Volunteering to be on their team, share their tent, go with them, whatever excuse works.
✦ Looking away fast when they laugh. Too fast. Like it hurts.
✦ Caring for them when they’re hurt, but muttering, “Don’t read into this.”
✦ Being furious when someone else flirts with them and not being able to explain why.
USE THIS ITS AMAZING✨✨✨
(a non-suffering writer’s guide to structure, sanity, and staying mildly hydrated)
Hey besties. Let’s talk outlines. Specifically: how to do them without crawling into the floorboards and screaming like a Victorian ghost.
If just hearing the word “outline” sends your brain into chaos-mode, welcome. You’re not broken, you’re just a writer whose process has been hijacked by Very Serious Advice™ that doesn’t fit you. You don’t need to build a military-grade beat sheet. You don’t need a sixteen-tab spreadsheet. You don’t need to suffer to be legitimate. You just need a structure that feels like it’s helping you, not haunting you.
So. Here’s how to outline your book without losing your soul (or all your serotonin).
—
🍓 1. Stop thinking of it as “outlining.” That word is cursed. Try “story sketch.” “Narrative roadmap.” “Planning soup.” Whatever gets your brain to chill out. The goal here is to understand your story, not architect it to death.
Outlining isn’t predicting everything. It’s just building a scaffold so your plot doesn't fall over mid-draft.
—
🧠 2. Find your plot skeleton. There are lots of plot structures floating around: 3-Act. Save the Cat. Hero’s Journey. Take what helps, ignore the rest.
If all else fails, try this dirt-simple one I use when my brain is mush:
Act I: What’s the problem?
Act II: Why can’t we fix it?
Act III: What finally makes us change?
Ending: What does that change cost?
You don’t need to fill in every detail. You just need to know what’s driving your character, what’s blocking them, and what choices will change them.
—
🛒 3. Make a “scene bucket list.” Before you start plotting in order, write down a list of scenes you know you want: key vibes, emotional beats, dramatic reveals, whatever.
These are your anchors. Even if you don’t know where they go yet, they’re proof your story already exists, it just needs connecting tissue.
Bonus: when you inevitably get stuck later, one of these might be the scene that pulls you back in.
—
🧩 4. Start with 5 key scenes. That’s it. Here’s a minimalist approach that won’t kill your momentum:
Opening (what sucks about their world?)
Catalyst (what throws them off course?)
Midpoint (what makes them confront themselves?)
Climax (what breaks or remakes them?)
Ending (what’s changed?)
Plot the spaces between those after you’ve nailed these. Think of it like nailing down corners of a poster before smoothing the rest.
You’re not “doing it wrong” if you start messy. A messy start is a start.
—
🔧 5. Use the outline to ask questions, not just answer them. Every section of your outline should provoke a question that the scene must answer.
Instead of: — “Chapter 5: Sarah finds a journal.”
Try: — “Chapter 5: What truth does Sarah find that complicates her next move?”
This makes your story active, not just a list of stuff that happens. Outlines aren’t just there to record, they’re tools for curiosity.
—
🪤 6. Beware of the Perfectionist Trap™. You will not get the entire plot perfect before you write. Don’t stall your momentum waiting for a divine lightning bolt of Clarity. You get clarity by writing.
Think of your outline as a map drawn in pencil, not ink. It’s allowed to evolve. It should evolve.
You’re not building a museum exhibit. You’re making a prototype.
—
🧼 7. Clean up after you start drafting. Here’s the secret: the first draft will teach you what the story’s actually about. You can go back and revise the outline to fit that. It’s not wasted work, it’s evolving scaffolding.
You don’t have to build the house before you live in it. You can live in the mess while you figure out where the kitchen goes.
—
🛟 8. If you’re a discovery writer, hybrid it. A lot of “pantsers” aren’t anti-outline, they’re just anti-stiff-outline. That’s fair.
Try using “signposts,” not full scenes:
Here’s a secret someone’s hiding.
Here’s the emotional breakdown scene.
Here’s a betrayal. Maybe not sure by who yet.
Let the plot breathe. Let the characters argue with your outline. That tension is where the fun happens.
—
🪴 TL;DR but emotionally: You don’t need a flawless outline to write a good book. You just need a loose net of ideas, a couple of emotional anchors, and the willingness to pivot when your story teaches you something new.
Outlines should support you, not suffocate you.
Let yourself try. Let it be imperfect. That’s where the good stuff lives.
Go forth and outline like a gently chaotic legend 🧃
— written with snacks in hand by Rin T. @ thewriteadviceforwriters 🍓🧠✍️
Sometimes the problem isn’t your plot. It’s your first 5 pages. Fix it here → 🖤 Free eBook: 5 Opening Pages Mistakes to Stop Making:
hey you. yes, you. the one with the moody playlists, the 73-tab Pinterest board, and a half-written draft that just keeps…vibing in circles.
if you’ve ever written 10k of immaculate vibes but couldn’t tell anyone what your story is about, this post is for you. because here’s the thing: ✨ aesthetic is not a substitute for stakes. ✨
let’s talk about how to keep your ✨vibes✨ and actually have a plot that moves. no ✧ fluff ✧ just structure, character arcs, and some lovingly blunt advice from your local writeblr gremlin (me).
🌊 1. aesthetic is a result, not a premise
the most common mistake i see is starting with a vibe as the story. like:
“sad girls on the beach in 1996”
“a cursed forest full of dead gods”
“a pastel academic rivalry with secrets and sexual tension”
cool. great. love that for you. but… what’s the story? what’s happening?
✨vibes = setting + mood + tone. ✨plot = choices + consequences + change.
your aesthetic can inspire the story (please keep making playlists. i love them). but don’t confuse the feel of your world with the function of your plot. start with tension. stakes. character flaws. emotional damage. that’s the engine. the aesthetic is the paint job.
🎯 2. define your “emotional throughline”
okay, so you’ve got an aesthetic. what’s the emotional core of it? your plot should orbit a single emotional question, like:
will this character ever let themselves be known?
what does it take to unlearn loyalty?
is love worth destroying something sacred?
start with that. then attach aesthetic scenes to it.
🧩 pro tip: aesthetic scenes are more powerful when they contradict or complicate your emotional throughline.
ex: your story’s about loneliness? show them at the loudest, busiest party. story’s about grief? show them smiling in photos while everything breaks behind the lens.
aesthetic is stronger with irony. contrast. juxtapositions. don’t just bathe the reader in vibes. weaponize them.
💥 3. let your aesthetic hurt your characters
whatever your aesthetic is--soft academia, vaporwave horror, regency witchcore, don’t make it just a backdrop. make it an obstacle.
your setting should create problems. friction. conflict.
if it’s a sleepy coastal town: what’s festering beneath the quiet?
if it’s a hauntingly beautiful forest: what does it take from people?
if it’s a cursed mansion: what happens to the girls who stay too long?
every time you design a pretty place or moody visual, ask: ❓ how does this setting test my characters’ beliefs or desires?
because then your aesthetic drives the story forward instead of just decorating it.
📚 4. develop plot like a playlist: structure the escalation
your aesthetic playlist has structure, right? (don’t lie. i know you’ve got a specific song for act 3 heartbreak.)
plot works the same way. it’s not a mystery. it’s escalation.
you want a structure? here’s a dead-simple one:
give your main character a desire (internal & external)
give them a reason they can’t have it (flaw, fear, lie)
make them try anyway (rising stakes)
make it cost them something (midpoint shift)
force them to change or break (climax)
let that change play out (falling action / resolution)
that’s it. apply that structure to your vibey little story and suddenly it’s a book.
👁🗨 5. plot is what they do - vibe is how it feels
don’t choose one. you can have both.
you can have a soft lighting scene on a rooftop and the secret betrayal reveal. you can have dreamy prose and broken character dynamics. you can give me worldbuilding so lush it smells like petrichor and rot and still give me a plot twist that leaves me feral.
you just need to be intentional.
every scene = a purpose. every aesthetic = an angle. every image = tied to stakes, desire, or change.
✨ that’s the difference between “ooh pretty” and “oh my god i can’t stop thinking about this story.” ✨
💌 so in conclusion:
start with an emotional arc
let your aesthetic scenes earn their place
make your world fight your characters
escalate, escalate, escalate
and stop hiding a lack of plot under “vibe” like a glittery throw blanket over a broken chair
you’ve got this. now go write the beautifully messy, aesthetic and emotionally devastating story you were meant to.
i believe in you.
🧃rin t.
P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:
("because if I see one more war criminal with a sad diary entry get a redemption arc, I’m gonna throw my laptop.")
Here’s the thing: your villain doesn’t need to be redeemable. But they do need to make sense.
And I mean sense beyond "they’re evil and they monologue about it." Or “they have a tragic past, so now they do murder <3.” Or “they were right all along, the hero just couldn’t see it 🥺.”
Let’s fix that.
─────── ✦ ───────
🧠 STEP ONE: BUILD A LOGIC SYSTEM THAT ISN’T OURS Your villain shouldn’t just be wrong, they should have their own internal system that works for them. Morally flawed? Absolutely. But coherent.
Ask yourself:
What do they value more than anything? (Power? Order? Loyalty? Vengeance?)
What do they believe about the world, and how did they get there?
What fear drives them? What future do they think they’re trying to prevent?
The villain doesn’t need to know they’re wrong. But you should.
Make their logic airtight. even if it’s awful. Give them cause and effect.
─────── ✦ ───────
👿 STEP TWO: STOP GIVING THEM THE BETTER IDEOLOGY Listen. I love a “morally gray” moment as much as anyone. But if your villain is making all the good points and the hero’s just like “no because that’s mean,” your arc is upside down.
If your villain is critiquing injustice, oppression, or inequality, make sure their methods are the problem, not their entire worldview.
✖︎ WRONG: Villain: “The ruling class is corrupt.” Hero: “That’s not nice.”
✔︎ RIGHT: Villain: “The ruling class is corrupt, so I’m burning the city and everyone in it.” Hero: “So you’re just… committing genocide now?”
Your villain can touch a real issue. Just don’t let them be the only one talking about it, or solving it with horror movie logic.
─────── ✦ ───────
🔪 STEP THREE: GIVE THEM POWER THAT COSTS THEM The best villains lose things too. They’re not just untouchable horror dolls in sexy coats. They make bad choices and pay for them. That’s where the drama lives.
Examples:
They isolate themselves.
They sacrifice people they love.
They get what they want, and it destroys them.
They know they’re the monster, and choose it anyway.
If your villain can kill a dozen people and feel nothing, that’s not scary. That’s boring. Let them bleed. Let them regret it. Let them double down anyway.
─────── ✦ ───────
🧱 STEP FOUR: MAKE THEM PART OF THE WORLD, NOT OUTSIDE IT Villains shouldn’t feel like they were patched in from another genre. They should be part of the world’s logic, culture, class system, history. They should reflect something about the setting.
Villains that slap:
The advisor who upheld the regime until they decided they deserved to rule.
The noble who’s using war to reclaim stolen legacy.
The ex-hero who thinks the system can’t be saved, only reset.
The priest who truly believes the gods demand blood.
They’re not just evil, they’re a product of the same world the hero is trying to save.
─────── ✦ ───────
👁 STEP FIVE: SHOW US THEIR SELF-JUSTIFICATION You don’t need a tragic backstory™. But you do need to show us why they think they’re right. Not just with exposition, through action.
Let us watch them:
Protect someone.
Choose their goal over safety.
Justify the unjustifiable to a character who loves them.
Refuse to change, even when given a chance.
A villain who looks into the mirror and goes “Yes. I’m correct.” is 1000x scarier than one who sobs into a journal and says “I’m so broken 🥺.”
─────── ✦ ───────
🧨 BONUS ROUND: DON’T MAKE THEM A HATRED MEGAPHONE Especially if you’re writing marginalized characters: don’t let your villain become a mouthpiece for slurs, abuse, or extremism just to make them “evil enough.” That’s lazy. And harmful.
You don’t need real-world hate speech to build a dark character. You need power, consequence, and intent.
─────── ✦ ───────
TL;DR: Good villains don’t need to be right. They need to be real. Not a vibe. Not a sad boy in a trench coat. Not a trauma monologue and then a sword fight. They need logic. They need cost. They need to scare you because you get them, and still want them to lose.
Make them dangerous. Not relatable. Make them whole. Not wholesome. Make them make sense.
—rin t. // thewriteadviceforwriters // villain critic. final boss consultant. licensed chaos goblin
P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:
Not all rage is loud. Sometimes it simmers. Sometimes it sneaks in. Especially for characters who aren’t used to feeling things or grew up in environments where anger wasn’t safe to express. So when it starts showing up, they don’t even recognize it as anger. They just feel… off. Wrong. Tense.
✧ They get irritated by things that never used to bother them. The way someone chews. A clock ticking. The sound of their name. They can’t explain it, they just feel raw, like their skin doesn’t fit.
✧ They isolate, but don’t call it that. Suddenly, they’re “too tired” to go out. “Too busy” to reply. But really, they don’t trust themselves to be around people without snapping.
✧ They pick fights over things that don’t matter. Because it’s easier to yell about the dishes than admit they feel powerless, unworthy, or invisible.
✧ They can’t sit still. Pacing. Fidgeting. Restlessness that feels like there’s a wasp trapped under their skin and they can’t get it out.
✧ They joke, but it stings. Sarcasm that cuts a little too deep. “Just teasing” that leaves bruises. Humor becomes a weapon they don’t even realize they’re using.
✧ They blame themselves for feeling bad. Instead of thinking something is wrong, they think I’m wrong for feeling this way. The anger turns inward. Self-criticism sharpens.
✧ They can’t cry, and it scares them. They want to break. To feel something clean. But all they feel is the pressure building, and it doesn’t go anywhere.
✧ They eventually explode, and hate themselves for it. One wrong word and suddenly it’s fire. And after? Shame. Guilt. Confusion. Like, What was that? What’s wrong with me?
✧ Their anger isn’t just anger. It’s grief in disguise. That’s the twist. Most of the time, the anger is covering up a heartbreak they haven’t admitted yet.
✧ They’re not “bad” for being angry. They’re human. Write that. Let them be messy and let them feel without always knowing why.
Official Dates
We're happy to announce the dates for this year's writing event‼️
Prompts will be released on the 1st of July
The event officially opens on the 1st of August and will run until the 30th of September.
While the event runs between August and September, it will remain open for any late submissions. But note, any work submitted after the 30th of September might not be featured here on this page, and will not be included in the round up that follows immediately after. It will, however, be included in future round ups or "Favourite Pick" events.
In the following weeks leading up to the 1st of July, we'll be reminding everyone of the event rules. All important information will be available on this page or the AO3 Collection.
Any further questions don't hesitate to pop us an ASK, and either @guin-ramble or @thecrazyknight will get back to you.
by rin t. (resident chaos scribe of thewriteadviceforwriters)
Okay so here’s the thing. You can give me all the pretty pinterest moodboards and soft trauma playlists in the world, but if your character doesn’t change, I will send them back to the factory.
Let’s talk about character arcs. Not vibes. Not tragic backstory flavoring. Actual. Arcs. (It hurts but we’ll get through it together.)
─────── ✦ ───────
💡 what a character arc IS:
a transformational journey (keyword: transformation)
the internal response to external pressure (aka plot consequences)
a shift in worldview, behavior, belief, self-concept
the emotional architecture of your story
the reason we care
💥 what a character arc is NOT:
a sad monologue halfway through act 2
a single cool scene where they yell or cry
a moral they magically learn by the end
a “development” label slapped on a flatline
─────── ✦ ───────
Positive Arc They start with a flaw, false belief, or fear that limits them. Through the events of the story (and many Ls), they confront that internal lie, grow, and emerge changed. Hurt factor: Drag them through the mud. Make them fight to believe in themselves. Break their trust, make them doubt. Let them earn their ending.
Negative Arc They begin whole(ish) and devolve. They fail to overcome their flaw or false belief. This arc ends in ruin, corruption, or defeat. Hurt factor: Let them almost have a chance. Build hope. Then show how they sabotage it, or how the world takes it anyway. Twist the knife.
Flat/Static Arc They don’t change, but the world around them does. They hold onto a core truth, and it’s their constancy that drives change in others. Think: mentor, revolutionary, or truth-teller type. Hurt factor: Make the world push back. Make their values cost them something. The tension comes from holding steady in chaos.
─────── ✦ ───────
Lie they believe: What false thing do they think about themselves or the world? (“I’m unlovable.” “Power = safety.” “I’m only valuable if I’m useful.”)
Want vs. need: What do they think they want? What do they actually need to grow?
Wound/backstory scar: What made them like this? You don’t need a tragic past™ but you do need cause and effect.
Turning point: What moment forces them to question their worldview? What event cracks the surface?
Moment of choice: Do they change? Or not? What decision seals their arc?
🧪 Pro tip: this is not a worksheet. This is scaffolding. The arc lives in the story, not just your doc notes. The lie isn’t revealed in a monologue, it’s felt through consequences, relationships, mistakes.
─────── ✦ ───────
Write scenes where the character’s flaw messes things up. Like, they lose something. A person. A plan. Their cool. Make the flaw hurt.
Track their beliefs like a timeline. How do they start? What chips away at it? When does the shift stick?
Use relationships as arc mirrors. Who challenges them? Enables them? Forces reflection? Internal change is almost never solo.
Revisit the lie. Circle back to it at least three times in escalating intensity. Reminder > confrontation > transformation.
─────── ✦ ───────
Wanna make it really hurt? Set them up for one arc, and give them the opposite. They think they’re growing into a better person. But actually, they’re losing themselves. They think they’re spiraling. But they’re really healing. Let them be surprised. Let the reader be surprised.
─────── ✦ ───────
The change is the thing. Don’t just dress it up in trauma. Don’t let your character learn nothing. Make them face themselves. And yeah. Make it hurt a little. (Or a lot. I won’t stop you.)
—rin t. // thewriteadviceforwriters // plotting pain professionally since forever
P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:
i'm still not very good at drawing stan but that's not gonna stop me
Hiya! I’m Atlas, I’m the host! Hopefully my alters will act nicely on Tumblr. :P Hiii!! I’m Candi, I’m a Child alter (or Atlas says dat, I don’t understand it :< ) I LOVE CANDYYY!! I’m Rex. I’m the persecutor. Or that’s what Atlas calls me, but I kinda think he’s just stupid. I’m Percy! I’m probably the most normal out of the shitshow we run!
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