#pleasestaywithmedarling

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Happy STS, Elli!

Many many many congratulations on the new book!!! I CANNOT WAIT to read it.

Compared to your other works, was there anything especially fun or challenging about the writing process for Till Death?

Bonus question: which chapter is your favorite?

-pleasestaywithmedarling

Happy STS, Hannah!

I cannot wait to run for my life because you'll kill me! :D

Fun: It was fun to actually write something completely new again. It has been a while. Glass Shards had an existing draft (as did Heal my Wounds), and Nuisance/Fancy Boots are more prequel and sequel than standalone stories.

There's just something incredibly fun about figuring stuff out as I write. A completely new cast, and completely new ways to fuck them up! Yay!

Challenging: I went a bit experimental with the way Finn thinks, many repetitions of three, which I wasn't so sure about at first. There's still a chance I'll look back in a year and hate it. I never before did overlapping POVs, either, so I hope that worked out well.

I also unlocked a new gore level, I think 😶 While I wasn't nice to Caldyn, a nonhuman/plant char just isn't the same. And uh. Merry had some close calls, but this is the first time I wrote explicit sexual assault, and I'm gonna die.

Favorite: I can't pick one. My last read is still fresh in my mind (not like I finished it Friday morning or anything) and there really isn't a single chapter I don't love, almost as if it was written for me 🤔

I mean, you can't make me decide between a public execution and ace angst 🤣

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Happy STS, Anna!

Are there any tropes that you enjoy reading but don't enjoy writing?

-pleasestaywithmedarling

Happy STT, @pleasestaywithmedarling!

Hmm, I cannot think of any off the top of my head. My favorite tropes are the first ones I tried writing. That isn't to say some weren't difficult to write, but I wouldn't avoid them and I certainly don't dread writing them :)

[little-peril-stories]

Happy STS, Kate!!

When you write, do you prefer writing with no distractions for a length of time, or do you write bits and pieces throughout the day as you do other things?

-pleasestaywithmedarling

Thanks, Hannah, for the ask! Happy STS!

In terms of preference, I love to sit down and write without distractions for a long time. In practice, that doesn't really happen, so my usual writing times might look like this:

early morning (between 6 and 7 AM), before getting ready for work

morning (between 7:30 and 8:30 AM), on the subway heading to work

afternoon/evening, on the subway heading home

evening, after work or maybe after dinner

There are no rules on weekends, haha.

So I guess I'm an opportunistic writer, writing when I can, but if I had a choice, I'm not sure that's how I'd write!

[secretwhumplair]

Lessons

1,252 words | The black prince [WT] (sequel to Good morning)

Content | Exhaustion, power imbalance, feelings of inferiority/internalised classism I guess?, implied past noncon, mention of slavery

Notes | Elgar does not know how to stand up for himself :( But it's going to be okay, right?

Taglist | @echo-goes-aaa @whump-blog @scoundrelwithboba @whumpcreations @neverthelass

@whumplr-reader @vampiresprite @pleasestaywithmedarling

It was a long journey, just like Elgar had feared. What he hadn’t predicted was how much he swung back and forth from feeling almost comfortable around the prince, to perfect uncertainty once more. The stops along the road, where they would inevitably be put up somewhere far more fancy than he deserved, didn’t help. Nor did the new clothes he was given as they climbed into higher and colder terrain, soft furs that even he could tell were of great quality, and thick wool dyed many colours expertly woven into patterns too elaborate for someone like him.

It was disconcerting, and it was exhausting to be so worried all the time.

To make matters worse, it had been decided he should take lessons in the precious resting time. Not just what little help the royals could give him with the language—he would have a proper tutor for that, the princess reassured him, and that too was a scary thought—but etiquette lessons too. It was important he would know how to act by the time they reached the capital, the prince had explained, looking at him earnestly while his sister read off what he had written for Elgar, because Elgar still couldn’t read. It was important.

And worst of all, he was getting riding lessons.

The princess had asked him if he was ready to start within the week of them setting out from Akreh; clearly, she was the impatient type, and Elgar, of course, didn’t want to displease her, so there was only really one answer he could give.

And so, while the prince was sitting comfortably by, or even resting indoors, he was learning to ride.

It was a small comfort that the horse—Sparrow, he still hadn’t gotten used to thinking of her as his own—was so easygoing; she barely ever seemed willing to move if she could help it, so there was not much worry she would run away from under him.

But still, it hurt.

He was healing so slowly, what with the daily travelling, and now he had to ride more. In the evenings, he wanted nothing but fall into bed and maybe cry to himself a little, but he knew the prince would worry, and somehow, explaining himself to him seemed worse.

He was no longer worried the prince would be upset with him for daring to voice a wish, at least not all the time; some evenings, they huddled together in a hug before going to sleep hand in hand. And yet, he simply couldn’t bring himself to ask for this specific favour, for this specific reason. Maybe he worried that the prince would tell the princess about the hows and whys of it. Yes, that must be it. That, too, was silly, of course—what dignity did someone like him have to lose in the eyes of a royal?—but it made some sort of sense.

And then, the prince was exhausted too, Elgar could tell. After his first crying session, he was certain that all the smiles and happiness he was putting on all day, whenever anyone might see, was just show, and it must be draining, especially while he, too, was still recovering from what their master had put him through—far worse than Elgar, even if he now had been stitched back together better.

»You’re making great progress! Maybe tomorrow, we can try cantering.«

The princess’ cheerful voice called his attention away from his misery. She was smiling brightly, as if that was good news.

It was true he had been getting better at keeping his balance on the horse, and at giving her the correct signals on his own—it did start to feel like he was actually riding.

It helped that however slow it went, the pain was fading, with every night he remained untouched. Still, he did not look forward to riding harder tomorrow, but he nodded. »Thank you, your Highness.«

He no longer needed her help to get off the horse and lead her away from the field they had been practicing in to be untacked. That was something he wasn’t expected to do himself, anymore than the royals were, and it made him feel uneasy. He was being served. Two of the slaves travelling with them were looking after the horses, and one of them took her out of his hands with a smile.

He managed a mumbled »thank you,« or so he thought.

He no longer needed the princess’ help with this, but she had followed him anyway, and now her grin had returned. »And you’re making great progress with that as well. Bet once you can get under our tutor, you’ll learn the language in no time.«

»Thank you, your Highness.« He opted for the more comfortable Teeradian this time, knowing she would understand it. Then something about the phrasing caught in his brain. Their tutor? Surely not their, the royals’, tutor, why would they need an Ochurian tutor?

But then, who here could teach Ochurian to a Teeradian—but perhaps someone who could have taught Teeradian to an Ochurian, too?

What would a royal tutor expect from him? How could he possibly hold up?

It was the end of the day—they had squeezed the lesson in after dinner—and Elgar was glad to be able to withdraw, sore and exhausted and now freshly worried.

Well, withdraw from most. The prince was waiting for him in their bedroom, but that was alright. Sometimes, he almost felt a kind of companionship with him. Almost like a resurrection of the bond tied between them during their captivity.

The prince was sitting up by the window and reading inbetween the fading light of dusk, and a candle. He closed the book when he heard Elgar enter, and gave him a smile, and a questioning thumbs-up.

Elgar nodded hesitantly. »It’s getting better.«

He went to sit with the prince. The bedroom was cool, of course, but he was dressed for the temperatures, like he very much hadn’t been under their old master.

For a moment, they sat in silence. Elgar looked out the window, into the stripe of orange drawn across the western sky, trying to calm his mind, but then he blurted out, »Do you think your tutor… is going to be satisfied with me?«

The prince looked at him quizzically, and Elgar explained, »Your sister, her Highness, she mentioned—I’d be taught the language by your tutor?« It sounded silly as he said it. He must have misunderstood something. But then—he had been afforded every luxury, far more than he knew how to handle.

And the prince nodded earnestly, reaching out to hold his hand.

»I just, I—I don’t know if I’ll be as good at it as… they’d expect.« He felt a hotness creep into his cheeks, and he was glad for the low light.

The prince shook his head, smiling, pointed at his chest then made a cutting motion. Elgar couldn’t read his lips too well as he mouthed words, but between it all, he figured it out. I was not good at it.

He couldn’t help a chuckle, but the prince’s smile faded as he thought about his words, and he gave a small shrug, flicking his free hand, then pointing between the two of them.

They were in the same boat. The prince would have to learn a new language, as well, with his hands.

He nodded, squeezing the prince’s hand. »We’ll—we’ll do it.«

[clairelsonao3]

Line Sharing Tag

@sarandipitywrites (here) @winterandwords (here) @pleasestaywithmedarling (here)

@rickie-the-storyteller (here)

Directions: Share a line from your WIP! First line, last line, 6 sentences, 4 sentences, go nuts!

So, as you can see, I'm basically tagging everyone who's tagged me in any kind of line-sharing tag game recently, whether it's 6 sentence, 4 sentence, last line, whatever. I don't have a ton of options that aren't spoilers, so forgive me for taking a few liberties. Consider them all fulfilled!

From the forthcoming Chapter 37 of GSNBTR:

He couldn’t promise that, of course, just as Jake couldn’t promise what he had promised, and she’d been an utter fool to believe either of them could. But right now, believing, being a fool, was all she had left. Perhaps it was all she’d ever had. So she took it. And anyway, he wouldn’t allow her to do anything else.

And since @little-peril-stories actually tagged me in a First Line Tag (here), I'll throw in a bonus: the first line of the chapter:

He'd been buried alive once before.

And I'm gently tagging these people:

@darkangel319 @mysticstarlightduck @tabswrites @cljordan-imperium @thebejeweledwatercat

[steelandblood]

How about “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

@plasmodiumpyrexia thank you so much for the ask and I'm so sorry for taking so so long😅 I hope the 2.7K words were worth the wait!

@pleasestaywithmedarling thank you so much for showing interest! I hope I didn't disappoint

Honest Conversations

Bruises on the neck can mean very different things.

Contents: female whumpee, discussion of SA (elaborated in tags, nothing graphic though)

Characters

Calina was overjoyed to finally be reunited with her childhood friend, but it seemed like she was the only one who was happy with Adan's presence. Thancur at least did not mind him, but also paid him no mind. Calina hoped he might enjoy having another guy around and find some common ground, but they did not seem to have much in common at all.

At least it was better then the other women. Mirwen was hostile and suspicious, going so far as to threaten Adan and describe in alarmingly graphic detail the things she would do to him should he ever dare to hurt Calina. Sure, it was somewhat touching that apparently Mirwen was so fiercely protective of her, but Calina could definitely go without threats of dismemberment towards her boyfriend. Even worse, Rauna, mimicking the older half-elf's attitude, was outright mean and rude, often joking at Adan's expanse.

When they finally returned to the town it was well past sunset and they were all quite exhausted, but Calina was absolutely not too tired to finally enjoy some private time with Adan.

After a whispered promise to meet tonight outside the inn, they parted, each going to their room. She knew Adan would have no trouble. Even if Thancur would notice him getting out, he would not care. Calina though would have to sneak out. It's not that any of the other women could stop her, but they would certainly have their opinions about her spending the night in Adan's company, and Calina knew they would not keep those opinions to themselves. Not wanting to deal with Rauna's judgement and Mirwen's disappointment, Calina laid in bed, impatiently waiting until the other women were soundly asleep. Mirwen, who stayed on watch the entire night ever since Adan joined them, was completely exhausted and was out the moment her head touched the pillow. Rauna however of course had to go through all her nightly prayers first. At least it was not a full moon, then Rauna would have stayed up all night praying. But finally she fell asleep as well and Calina could sneak out of the room. Both half elfs ware light sleeper, but Calina's footsteps were lighter, and she successfully got out completely unnoticed. Not wasting a second more she quickly and quietly made her way to where Adan was already waiting for her, just like they used to do in their teenage years.

.

.

.

Sneaking back in was just as easy, though her heart was still beating loud in her ears from the excitement. Calina lay in her bed unable to sleep, giddy just as she was after their first kiss.

When the first ray of dawn shined through the window, giving Calina an excuse to start her day, she quietly snuck into the washroom while her companions were only just stirring awake. There, looking in the mirror she discovered an unpleasant surprise. Adan's passionate kisses left her with an unfortunate parting gift of blossoming dark bruises showing vividly on the pale skin of her neck.

She played with her hair, hoping to arrange it just so to hide the evidence, until Rauna's insistent knocking forced her to deem her efforts good enough. Calina busied herself with getting dressed, making sure to find a shirt with a high enough collar, and she was sure she had managed to get away undiscovered with last night's escapade when Rauna's teasing voice came from behind her.

"Hey Calina? What are those bruises on your neck?"

Calina could feel Mirwen's eyes on her, judging her, and only hoped she would be nice enough to not say anything, but Mirwen was rarely nice.

"Rauna, get dressed, go get Thancur and eat breakfast. We'll join later." Mirwen ordered in a voice that left no room for argument.

The moment the door closed behind Rauna, Mirwen's entire demeanour changed. She looked at Calina with big sad eyes and motioned for her to sit next to her on the bed. Confused and surprised Calina followed her.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"  She asked cautiously, her voice thick with emotion, almost reaching for Calina's hand, "I would be the last one to judge." she let out a sad chuckle.

Whatever Calina expected, this was not it. Mirwen never hid her disapproval of her and Adan's relationship, so upon seeing the evidence of last nights, Calina expected disappointment, judgement, even anger, but Mirwen looked almost heartbroken.

"Mirwen what is this about?"

"You spent the night with Adan, didn't you. The bruise on your neck..." Mirwen sounded like she was fighting tears, "He strangled you, didn't he?"

"What? No!" The idea was ludicrous, but Mirwen seemed completely serious, "Why would you think something like that? We just had some fun last night."

To Calina's farther surprise, Mirwen, who never initiated physical contact unless she was healing, grasped her hand, not strong enough to hurt, but firm enough to prevent Calina from getting away.

"I'm sorry, but I need you to be honest about what happened, it's for your own good." Mirwen apologized and cast zone of truth around them.

"Please Calina, tell me the truth about what happened last night. I only want to protect you."

"I am telling you the truth, we just fooled around last night, we didn't even, go all the way, you know..."

"And the bruise on your neck?" Mirwen now looked as confused as Calina felt.

"Just from kisses, he was enthusiastic, and I bruise easily.” Calina confessed bashfully, “There is nothing more to it, he didn't hurt me, I promise.”

"You are telling the truth, you have to be." Mirwen looked at her bewildered and then released her hand as if burned, lowering her gaze in shame. "That's... that's good, that he didn't hurt you. I'm so sorry..." She moved to make a quick escape, but now it was Calina's turn to grab her hand to make her stay. Mirwen flinched at the touch, but didn't fight it, and set back down. Calina hated to do this, but she had to know what made Mirwen jump to the worst possible conclusion. Was it just her regular paranoia, or was there something more going on.

"What made you think Adan hurt me?" The annoyance in her mind now replaced with concern in her voice. "Did..." She didn't want to even think about this possibility, but she had to ask, "did he do anything to you?"

"No, he didn't... It... it was years ago". Mirwen mumbled, avoiding looking her in the eyes.

Calina did not need to ask to know what "it" was, it was the thing every woman was warned about, but was never supposed to mention.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you." Her own words sounded empty to Calina. She meant them of course, but her sorry was just as useless on face of what Mirwen went through.

Mirwen looked up at her fearfully. "It doesn't mat- it does-" she quickly gave up as the spell stopped any attempt at lying, "P-please don't te-t-tell anyone..." She asked, no, begged quietly. It was so wrong, Mirwen did not beg.

"I won't, of course I won't. But you know the others wouldn't judge you, right?" Calina was rumbling, but she felt she had to say something to fill the silence, do something to make it better. "It was something that was done to you, it's not your fault. They wouldn't think less of you, I don't." Calina stopped to draw a breath and saw that her words had the opposite effect.

"Don't say that!" Mirwen protested, "You can't mean it, please don't say that!"

Calina did not know what she said wrong, but she rumbled on, hoping to fix her mistake and not make the situation worse.

"I do mean it. You know I can't lie right now Mirwen, so I have to be telling the truth, you know that."

This was not how it was supposed to go. Mirwen was supposed to except her genuine but in the end useless sympathies, after which they would awkwardly move on, to never mention the topic again. She wasn't supposed to argue.

"But you don't know the truth!" Mirwen shouted, her voice painfully shrill, "It's too disgusting and wrong." She added in a small voice.

No, Calina did not know, and though a tiny, morbidly curious part of her wanted to ask, the other, more sensible, or perhaps selfish, part of her knew that she would rather stay blissfully ignorant. Because in the end the details did not matter.

"Mirwen, whatever horrible things he did to you, it doesn't change anything. He chose to do it to you, you didn't want that and it says absolutely nothing about you."

Mirwen shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut in a fruitless attempt to hide her tears.

"You don't get it! It was my father!" She blurted out and immediately clasped a hand over her mouth.

That was not what Calina expected to hear. She didn't want to believe such a thing was even possible, let alone happened to her friend. To Mirwen, who was always the strong one, who laughed at the face of death and could strike fear into the hearts of well armed men with a single look. Such things are not supposed to happen, but it was true, and it happened, and now Calina could not get out of her mind the image of a little golden-haired girl, tears staining her pale freckled face, with big dark finger shaped bruises around her tiny neck.

Mirwen stared at Calina with wide terrified eyes, and at that moment she looked far too much like the girl in Calina's mind.

"That's... That horrible. I'm so sorry."

Mirwen snatched her hand away from Calina's and backed away, as if only now realizing what she had said. "Fuck, shit I shouldn't have said this, I'm sorry, please pretend I didn't say anything." She was clearly panicking, and Calina was at a loss as to how to handle the situation.

"Mirwen, it's okay, calm-" Calina was cut off before she could finish.

"No, it's not! It's too late, I can see the way you're looking at me now. I don't even know what's worse, the pity or the disgust." With every word her voice was becoming more breathless and hysterical. Her entire body was trembling, and she was barely holding herself together, digging her short, broken nails as deep as possible into her arms. "I don't know why I even told you, I'm sorry, I couldn't keep my stupid mouth shut and now I ruined everything. I'm so sorry, I don't know what to do to fix it, please tell me what I can do, I'm sorry..." Her desperate rumbling turned into unintelligible sobs.

Calina did not know how to fix this either. Selfishly she also wanted to pretend that that the last few minutes did not happen. Because Mirwen was right, she did pity her. And how could she not, now that she could not stop imagining all the horrible things that were done to her, that her own father did to her, now that she could see that underneath all the armor, behind all the rage and violence, was a scared little girl who was desperate to never be hurt again.

Calina wished Rauna was here, the two were much closer, and though their circumstances were vastly different, at least Rauna knew what it was like to grow up without good parents. What did Calina know? She grew up in a mansion, both her parents were alive and well and loved her very much, she never knew any real hardship or fear. Even now, when she was regularly fighting deadly monsters, she always had Mirwen who took all the hits, and Rauna who could heal all the wounds. Even death was only a slightly expensive inconvenience.

What comfort and understanding could Calina offer when this was so incomprehensibly foreign to her.

With every moment ‏that she hesitated, her guilt grew, but her mind remained blank of ideas, until she could no longer bare the sight of Mirwen crying and the awkward almost silence of her quiet sobs.

Knowing nothing she could say would likely help, Calina took a different approach.

"Can I hug you?"

Mirwen stopped crying and then slowly looked up at Calina in bewilderment. After a long moment Mirwen gave a single nod.

Calina carefully reached to hug her, still half expecting her to protest or even shove her away, but Mirwen stayed frozen in place and allowed Calina to wrap her arms around her.

She could feel Mirwen holding her breath, until she let out a shaky gasp and broke down sobbing, burying her face Calina's shoulder.

Calina let her cry, patiently stroking her hair, trying not to notice how soft and nice it was, or how she could definitely feel Mirwen's muscles through the thin linen shirt. She didn't know how long they stayed like that, but eventually Mirwen stopped crying, and after few deep ragged breaths she awkwardly backed away from Calina.

"Calina," She looked up at her, blinking away tears, "I'm- I'm sorry, I-" her voice was hoarse and tired, "Thank you." She sounded so genuine that Calina didn't know if she wanted to cry, or yell at Mirwen and shake some sense into her. Because nothing she did warranted this, because she did basically nothing.

"It's nothing." She said instead.

Mirwen shook her head but didn't protest.

"Can we now please pretend all of this never happened, and never mention it again?"

"Of course. You're okay?"

"I'm fine." Mirwen did not sound very convicted, and enough time has past for the spell to end, but Calina did mot push it. They both had enough truths for today.

"You should join the others for breakfast."

"You're not coming?" Calina asked.

"Looking like that? No thanks." With tearstained cheeks and red puffy eyes, Mirwen obviously looked like she has been crying, of course she couldn't allow anyone to see her like that. "I'd rather save what little dignity I have left. It's fine, really, go ahead. And you can tell your boy toy that he is safe, for now."

[lady-whump-ocs]

OC: Merridy

Nuisance by @/i-can-even-burn-salad

Glass Shards by @/i-can-even-burn-salad

OC: Carr

Hidden Depths by @/starlit-hopes-and-dreams

OC: Kiri

Sin of Purity, Purity of Sin by @/pleasestaywithmedarling

@i-can-even-burn-salad

@starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@pleasestaywithmedarling

[oh-no-another-idea]

Last Line [tag]

Jumping aboard @pleasestaywithmedarling's open tag--thanks! :D Here's a line from something I'm working on...

“You’ll find a way,” Jack said, leaning over the table. “We’re not done yet. Come on, I’ll buy you a pickle. You love pickles, remember?”

OPEN TAG and also @winterandwords @k--havok @artdecosupernova-writing @tabswrites and @writeouswriter -- no pressure!

[verkja]

Author Ask Game

Thanks for the tag, @pleasestaywithmedarling ! This was interesting to do. Apologies if any of it is incoherent; I have a fever and am slightly out of my head.

Tagging… hm, @space-writes , @aria-benedetto , and anyone else who’d like to do this - no pressure, of course. :)

This is all in reference to my active WIP.

What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

There isn’t one! I’m not trying to teach a lesson with this story. There are themes, I suppose, and topics on which it touches, but there is no ‘moral of the story.’ Any questions it poses go largely unanswered. Unless you want to make an argument that this is teaching via the Socratic method (which I’d rather not), it’s not intended to teach anybody anything.

While fiction can certainly be used to convey lessons, I think allegory can compromise other aims of a story. Characters written as symbols, used as tools to teach a lesson, are usually less realistic than those written as fictional people. Stories meant as lessons are ultimately about the real world, not a fictional world, and that’s not what I’m trying to write here.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?

Existing fantasy media had the strongest influence. Not many particular works - mainly genre conventions in general. Sometimes these are played straight, and sometimes played around with.

I did include a smattering of real-world, usually historical elements that just happen to interest me. For example, the method of making inksticks which is used in the city of Habrseng is based on how inksticks have historically been made in China.

Lastly, a fair amount of the worldbuilding is kind of made up out of whole cloth. The spirit arch in Pt. 4, for example, isn’t based on anything. I just thought it would be cool.

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, help readers grow as a person?

What the protagonists are trying to achieve changes over the course of the story. Initially, Radomil doesn’t have much of a goal; he’s trying to distract himself from reality and the (presumably) inevitable future. Mures starts out wanting to see something that will make the world seem less disappointing, assuming he’ll die shortly afterward. Catha starts out interested in carving herself a place in legend.

Later, all three protagonists are mainly trying to resolve the plot, but beyond that their aims are up in the air. All of them have started to recognise that their initial goals, if any, are notably flawed, or perhaps not what they want after all.

As for what I’m trying to achieve with the characters - I want to tell a story about them! If readers find it inspiring, that’s great, but I’m writing this for myself. I suppose my main goal in regards to readers is evoking emotions. If I can make someone laugh or cry because of my characters, that’s brilliant.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

No idea! While I’m officially on Pt. 31 at the moment, due to prologues, interludes, and optional pieces, there are actually 38 chapters in the story so far. It’s roughly 110K words now, and I estimate it’ll end up around 150K, so… maybe 50ish chapters?

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

It’s original - all my writing on here is original fiction. I do write fanfic, but it stays on AO3 and is not linked to my tumblr. My active WIP will probably only be posted here; the only other place I can imagine posting it would be a dedicated website, if I ever do a rewrite/different version and format it as an ebook. I have no interest in traditional publishing, digital or otherwise.

When and why did you start writing?

In general? When I was young, maybe seven or eight, because I loved reading but couldn’t find quite what I wanted to read in existing media. That same combination of love and dissatisfaction continues to motivate me today. :’)

My active WIP? I’ve been daydreaming about the characters for years, but first noted some thoughts about them down in written form back in… oh, 2020? The first piece I wrote which ended up in the story itself (with some modification) was from early 2021. And I first posted a piece of the story on here in early 2022. As for why, it was because I really love these characters and wanted to nail down a solid story for them, rather than settling for endless AU daydreams.

Do you have any words of engagement for fellow writers of Writeblr? What other writers of Tumblr do you follow?

Words of engagement? Eh, be… nice to other writers? Or words of encouragement, maybe - in the latter case, write what you want to write! Don’t worry about what what other people will think, if you can help it. You’ll get more out of writing that way.

I follow a bunch of other writers on here! Far too many to list. Some are whumpblr folks, some writeblr folks, some neither, and a few are with me in the weird netherworld between whumpblr and writeblr. I don’t really want to mention people by name because I know I’d forget someone, but - you know who you are. <3

Blank questions:

What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, help readers grow as a person?

How many chapters is your story going to have?

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

When and why did you start writing?

Do you have any words of engagement for fellow writers of Writeblr? What other writers of Tumblr do you follow?

[syncope-syndrome]

Happy STS! I have outlines on the brain today, so I'm very curious about everyone's processes. Do you outline your stories before you start writing them? If so, how detailed are they, and how closely do you follow them?

-pleasestaywithmedarling

Hi, excellent question, thank you.

So I actually do use a general outline, it depends on what I'm outlining for how specific I get though. Like for Whumptober, I just did the prompt, which character it was for, and a general summary. But for long form things, I try to write a summary of each scene within the chapter so I know exactly where I'm going and the purpose of each part I'm writing. (Also this way I don't get bogged down in "fanfiction writing" as I call it, where I'm just writing the fluff in between — not that fluff is a bad thing, but, I'm prone to that from years of fanfic writing.)

Like for Whumptober, I did something like this:

01. “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Swooning — Sid — Sid gets a concussion just hours before his first walkthrough of the SS Belastra and decides to work through it anyway, to predictably disastrous results.

And then for longer form things, I prefer something more in-depth. Here's a snippet from an old WIP.

A little extra, maybe, but the detailing helps me significantly, I am absolutely the kind of person to go off on the first random fork in the road I see.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Happy STS!

Which of your OCs would most enjoy a long plane flight? Which of them would hate it the most?

-pleasestaywithmedarling

Ohhh boy. Happy STS.

I think Caldyn would hate it most. Away from nature and energy, and even if we assume there's things like screen readers and audiobooks in a world with airplanes, he's not big into tech and would be bored out of his mind.

Enjoy? Could anyone enjoy this? Even Merry, who is small and can read for hours, would probably not -enjoy- being stuck in a seat for hours and eating food she probably won't like.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Happy STS, Elli!!

When you write, do you prefer writing with no distractions for a length of time, or do you write bits and pieces throughout the day as you do other things?

-pleasestaywithmedarling

Happy STS!

Unfortunately, while I would love some distraction free time, that's not happening, especially as lately my brain has decided to be its own distraction. Can't focus on shit, those 3 brain cells.

I don't like writing in little bits. I'm not really in the flow then. Doesn't mean the result is bad, a few chapters I ended up loving have been written without a single vibe, but I don't like it.

But then, I haven't been writing at all lately, so *shrug*

Throughout the day doesn't work. I can't just pull up my docs at work and write a novel, and in the evenings, there's this other crap called dinner and laundry and dishes and whatnot, so when is one even supposed to have any length of time, don't ask me.

The only time I can have is after 10pm, and I pay for that dearly.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Happy STS, Elli!

I love learning about other people's writing habits, so my question of the day is: do you like listening to music while you write? And if so, what kind?

-pleasestaywithmedarling

Hello! :D

I'm afraid I am rather boring. For the last few MONTHS, I have listened to exactly two things: The soundtrack from Degrees of Separation, which is much better than the game (well perhaps it works in coop, alone it's a bit of a pain), and my playlist for Till Death.

It's less of listening to music, and more drowning out The Sounds, and this soundtrack is just nice in the background.

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Hi Anna! Happy STS!!

I've been on a music kick lately, and it's got me curious about other people's habits. Do you listen to music while you write, and if you do, what kind of music?

-pleasestaywithmedarling

Happy STS, Hannah, and thanks for the ask!

Music!! I love music :D

I have to be honest here. I listen to music almost all the time. I even go to sleep with music playing.

While writing, I absolutely listen to music. I have noise canceling headphones now (and god what a blessing those things are!) and I listen through them.

I'm audhd, and my adhd is mixed type. Most of my hyperactivity goes on in my head. There is *constantly* smth going on in there: my own voice internally saying my every thought, a segment of a song stuck in my head, the thing someone said a month ago that I'm still trying to figure out if they were mad or not, what I need to buy for groceries, when was the last time I showered, etc etc.

So. The music (with words!) helps distract from the background noise enough for me to actually focus on what I'm trying to write.

As for what I listen to, I like hard rock/ alternative/metalcore for my day to day listening. Bands like asking alexandria, bring me the horizon, dayseeker, bad omens, halestorm, spiritbox, i prevail...

But I also listen to classic rock, 90's and some older country, jimmy buffett (sad face- he died recently), and some other things I wouldn't really know how to classify.

I'm pretty selective with rap, don't like most r&b, really don't like jazz, and can't do instrumentals- I've always found them boring and they do nothing to quiet the noise in my head.

Basically, I just pick a song I like to listen to repeatedly and just let youtube make me a station. Heartbreak feels so good by fallout boy, sleep token in general, and passenger by boston manor have been my go tos recently.

And that's me and music in a nutshell! Welcome to *my* TED talk lol

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Happy STS! I have outlines on the brain today, so I'm very curious about everyone's processes. Do you outline your stories before you start writing them? If so, how detailed are they, and how closely do you follow them?

-pleasestaywithmedarling

Happy STS!

I wouldn't call my efforts an outline. Most often, I am haunted by weeks of daydreams, as well as some notes 50% copied out of my friends DMs where I infodumped at 2am.

For many stories, when I start writing them, I have no idea where they will go. I drop my character knee deep into shit and watch them struggle to get out of it, and once they're almost happy, I find a way to ruin it again.

But I also have a very bad memory, so I scribble things I want to happen in a very basic list. Every attempt at guessing how many chapters those fill usually fails, and I keep adjusting it as I write. Sometimes adding, sometimes cutting, and sometimes shoving a piece into the next chapter because

"I'm not gonna split this I'm not gonna split this I'm not— shit, we're at 5k words, I have to split this."

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Happy STS! I have outlines on the brain today, so I'm very curious about everyone's processes. Do you outline your stories before you start writing them? If so, how detailed are they, and how closely do you follow them?

-pleasestaywithmedarling

Happy STS, Hannah!

😂😅 outlines? what are those?

Haha, i read your post about how you're a hobbyist outliner, which is completely fascinating to me. The closest I've come to outlining was basically a very amateurish synopsis, which I didn't end up following at all.

To write a story, I need an idea, a scene, a specific thing I'm working towards. Everything else just fills in the holes around this.

So with story structure, and outlines as I've had explained to me, you have these set in stone moments, and the rest of the outline can flow around those stones, like a river.

I can't envision the river. There is no river, there is no canyon, there are no banks. There is a wide the fuck open field with a boulder taking up half the horizon.

I have done a reverse outline, though, and found it very helpful for revisions :D