#I should probably write a list

[satans-knitwear]

Drafts folder is well stocked again now!! And hopefully gonna thicken it up some more today!! ✨💕

Treat me ~ Tip me

[theramblingvoid]

Low level/continuous pain tips for writing

Want to avoid the action movie effect and make your character's injuries have realistic lasting impacts? Have a sick character you're using as hurt/comfort fodder? Everyone has tips for how to write Dramatic Intense Agony, but the smaller human details of lasting or low-level discomfort are rarely written in. Here are a few pain mannerisms I like to use as reference:

General

Continuously gritted teeth (may cause headaches or additional jaw pain over time)

Irritability, increased sensitivity to lights, sounds, etc

Repetitive movements (fidgeting, unable to sit still, slight rocking or other habitual movement to self-soothe)

Soft groaning or whimpering, when pain increases or when others aren't around

Heavier breathing, panting, may be deeper or shallower than normal

Moving less quickly, resistant to unnecessary movement

Itching in the case of healing wounds

Subconsciously hunching around the pain (eg. slumped shoulders or bad posture for gut pain)

Using a hand to steady themself when walking past walls, counters, etc (also applies to illness)

Narration-wise: may not notice the pain was there until it's gone because they got so used to it, or may not realize how bad it was until it gets better

May stop mentioning it outright to other people unless they specifically ask or the pain increases

Limb pain

Subtly leaning on surfaces whenever possible to take weight off foot/leg pain

Rubbing sore spots while thinking or resting

Wincing and switching to using other limb frequently (new/forgettable pain) or developed habit of using non dominant limb for tasks (constant/long term pain)

Propping leg up when sitting to reduce inflammation

Holding arm closer to body/moving it less

Moving differently to avoid bending joints (eg. bending at the waist instead of the knees to pick something up)

Nausea/fever/non-pain discomfort

Many of the same things as above (groaning, leaning, differences in movement)

May avoid sudden movements or turning head for nausea

Urge to press up against cold surfaces for fever

Glazed eyes, fixed stare, may take longer to process words or get their attention

Shivering, shaking, loss of fine motor control

If you have any more details that you personally use to bring characters to life in these situations, I'd love to hear them! I'm always looking for ways to make my guys suffer more write people with more realism :)

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

You are the daughter of an angelic faerie and an elven king. You have grown up inside the only magical safe-haven of an increasingly apocalyptic land outside. You have wanted for nothing, essentially leading the perfect life, suffering and death playing little role beyond the abstract. Your father will never die, and your mother will never leave, but for tradition you are still crown princess and are educated as such. You love to dance and to sing.

You meet some kind of monster inside your mother's borders, a monster not of her or your making. It stumbled across you, dancing in the forest, bloody and travel-worn and weary and wide-eyed as it stares. You are stronger than it, but you run rather than lunge for the kill. You feel pity, more than fear. And something about him makes the part of you that you inherited from your mother sing.

He tries to follow you, for a year and a day. You are stronger, and faster, and stealthier, and you let him see you sometimes anyways. You are not convinced that he is not a monster, but nor are you convinced that he is.

Spring blooms again to the tune of your song, and you let him get closer than before until you run.

But you hear him speak for the first time. He is a speaker, and perhaps to him you are the monster. You do not run, and you do not kill.

He calls you "Tinuviel"

He calls you nightingale- a little songbird, plain and brown, with a lovely voice. They are your mother's creation, but he does not know this.

He calls you daughter of twilight- perhaps for your skin and eyes and hair, but perhaps because that is when he has seen you most.

He calls you singer- creator of the very fabric of the universe, skilled enough to deserve the title.

You are the most beautiful creature the world will ever see, the daughter of an angel and a king. He does not call you beautiful, or angelic, or princess. He calls you a singer, plain and brown, dark and distant as the approaching night.

He is bloody and travel-worn and weary and wide-eyed as you dare to step closer.

He called you nightingale.

You don't know what to call him, but you hope to find out.

[lale-txt]

absolutely obsessed with meet ugly scenarios lately. what if i keyed the car which i thought is my exes but instead you run out in your nightwear shouting at me. what if i sleep with your father the same night you break up with your partner in the room next door, only for us to meet in the hallway next morning and realize we're in the same class. what if our very excited mutual friends sets up on a blind date and it goes horrible from the first minute on. what if we're both overworked and try to sit down at the same free seat on the train, one sitting in the other's lap and refusing to move because fuck i'm tired too you ass and this is kinda cozy. what if our flight got cancelled and we reluctantly rent a car together because we really have to be somewhere, for what turns out to be the longest and most unpleasant roadtrip ever. what if you're a pro athlete and i get assigned as your assistant but don't even know what kind of sport you're playing. what if we're at a fandom meet up in our town and hit it off only to find out we have each other blocked on all socmeds for having shitty opinions since years.

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

every time i write a single-pov fic i'm like. but wait. what if i wrote an alternate pov version

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[devondespresso]

i haven't seen anyone talk about it (PLEASE TELL ME IF ANYONE HAS PLEASE) but Robin and Argyle would be such great friends

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Shit bro first hormone appointment in two days hold my hand

[whipped-for-fictionals]

going to be singing in our school's talent showcase tomorrow!! i'm so so excited, i chose the best song to sing as my final tribute to the school

[punmster]

Out of curiosity, do you have a playlist for DSMG?

yeah, it's like. 70 songs long lol

[saturnsorbits]

… Hi <3

I’ve missed you guys.

[journey-to-the-attic]

cookie!!!!!!!

[cerise-on-top]

saw you write for madness so i’m new! if its alright could i req sanford and deimos comforting their s/o after a breakdown?

if i req again i’ll probably be ⚡️ anon if it’s not taken. tysm + love ur writing!

Hey there! Yes you can! I hope I did the request justice! And no, I don't think that emoji is taken yet!

Sanford and Deimos Comforting Their S/O After a Breakdown

Sanford: The moment he sees you crying he’s rushing over to you to aid you in any way he can, crouching down to seem less intimidating and putting a hand on your shoulder to show you he’s there for you. He’s going to ask you a rushed and concerned “What’s wrong?” before intently listening to anything you have to say. Sanford will likely pull you into a tight hug. It won’t be crushing, he’ll actively try to be more gentle than that, but it will be tight enough for some air to leave your lungs. If you’re about to fall apart then he’ll hold you together. Although he knows that the worst of the worst might be over already, he’ll still hold you tight and be quiet for a moment, hoping that that will help you at least a little bit. Sanford isn’t one for distractions if he knows he can help you, so he’ll ask you what’s wrong and how he may be able to help you in that moment. If he’s unable to help you in any way shape or form he might feel as though he’s failed you if it’s particularly bad, but if you just need some cheering up then he’ll try. He’s very big on cuddling, so he’d love to hold you and cheer you up like that, if you allow it. However, if you’re not big on physical touch or just don’t want to be touched too much in that moment, then, once it’s not as obvious anymore that you broke down, he’ll go on a walk with you. The scenery may not be particularly nice, but it’s better than sitting around and doing nothing. He can be rather chatty, plus he’s a trustworthy guy, so you can tell him about anything you need to get off your chest. He’ll listen, he’ll give you advice, he’ll seek out revenge for you, anything you need. Will even cook a homemade meal for you if it cheers you up, and he’s a pretty good cook.

Deimos: He, too, will rush to your side and ask you what happened, if you need anything and if he can help you. Deimos’ approach to helping you consists of cheering you up by distracting you. He knows a few good jokes he can crack that might get you to smile, but he’s not opposed to listening to you either if you need it. Doesn’t have too much good advice to give that isn’t needlessly violent or chaotic, so you’re better off going to Sanford for that one. However, he’ll do what he can to get you to smile again. Hell, if you want, he’ll pay for some fast food as well. Fast food is always good and appropriate in his eyes, so why wouldn’t it be for you? Some good food always cheers him up when he’s upset, might work for you as well. He’s not the best with words in more dire situations, but he tries, although he really won’t know what to say. Yes, he prefers listening in those situations, even if he can be a real chatterbox otherwise. If his jokes don’t get you to smile, then his brain short circuits and he goes quiet. He actually goes more serious then as well. You can then proceed to talk to him about all that serious stuff and he’ll respond honestly. Might even open up about some of his own struggles to show you you’re not alone, that he can relate to you, if your struggles are similar. He’s really not trying to diminish your struggles, just wants to show you he cares. You will likely end up with an impromptu therapy session together where you both talk about your issues, but you will likely grow closer as a result. If he knows you’re okay with it, then he’ll wrap his arm around your shoulder and pull you closer to him so that your head rests on his shoulder. You should really rest up for the day, he’ll make sure that tomorrow is a brighter, nicer place for you.

[snowangeldotmp3]

all magic comes with a price

or, the once upon a time au. in which robin is a professor of literature, who gets roped into helping a ten-year-old who shows up at her doorstep (and claims to be her daughter...). it all goes to hell when robin takes the kid back home.

(tagging @perceivedregret !! here's some of the brain rot that's been brewing lolol)

“So, your mom is the reason that this curse exists?”

“Yup,” Max says, popping the ‘p.’

Robin hums. “I don’t know, kid, that sounds kinda evil to me.”

“She’s not,” Max sighs, “She’s not evil, she’s just…look, you can’t judge someone off of one mistake.”

Max lets the sentence hang in the air, before continuing. “She can be…cold. But she’s not evil. You just have to let her warm up to you.”

“Yeah…I think that’s gonna be easier said than done,” she winces as they pull up to the address Max gave her earlier, only to find one brunette with worry etched on her face. It melts into relief once she spots Max, and then into bewilderment upon seeing Robin. Robin manages a small smile, and an awkward wave.

“Hi.”

The brunette blinks rapidly, big blue doe eyes scanning Robin, and Robin can see Max’s shit-eating grin from behind her mother. “Hi.”

[dingoat]

Writing Patterns Tag Game

Tagged by @cinlat ! Thank you! Wow it was fun going back on all these bits of writing hahaha, the RP has definitely been going on all this time but to get to ten actual posted pieces I had to travel quite a long way back. Definitely makes me want to actually set down more of the ideas and musings I let float around in my head. @storyknitter @queen-scribbles @mimabeann @vespertine-legacy @tehriel @swtorpadawan @greencrusader13 if any of you folk feel inclined to play along please do!

Rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

Void-touched - Five never bothered with mirrors these days.

Five Years - He was as infuriating as he’d ever been.

Prompt: Six Repressed Memories - The night before, they’d stayed up late, conspiring in the fort in whispers that were too loud, overstimulated and giddy for the day to come.

Prompt: Repressed Memory for the Best Girl - The moon was bright and her belly was full, and best of all the pain had stopped, she’d found the source and shut it down and now everything was still and peaceful.

Artificial - Libby had wanted to hike Mount Marvellous for as long as she could remember, and she was beside herself when she finally had the opportunity to book a tour and be guided up the mountainside after years of training and research.

Prompt: Kiss, as a promise - “I don’t want to go.”

Prompt: "You could have died." - The days had been leisurely and indulgent, but with time came room for doubts and misgivings to creep in, giving a sour edge to the otherwise thoroughly pleasant experience of exploring the late Darth Vesstriss’ private estate.

Prompt: Protect - “Fynta. Hey. Hey is that you?”

Epilogue II - His bright blue eyes were the last things she saw before the lake swallowed her.

Prompt: "I'm only here to establish an alibi." - “WHOOOOAAAA–!!” Three voices hollered out in chorus as the out of town competitor, a burly selonian with jagged patterns bleached into her dark fur, was sent skidding across the ring.

[i-am-become-a-name]

December 6.  Prompt: Proposition.

Tegan had started shaking beside him, jostling his elbow in a way most unlike the usual distance they kept from each other, and it was quite frustrating the interesting conversation the Doctor was attempting to have with one of the diplomats in the celebration they had stumbled into. It wasn’t cold, even for one of her impractical outfits, and for once, (he dreaded to think it for fear of the universe laughing at him) they didn’t seem to be in any active danger. The diplomat, rare for one of his breed, was fascinating, more interested in talking about what they had learned from the shared histories of the planets to move forward in earnest, rather than picking at and exaggerating the minor differences between their cultures. He turned his most foreboding look upon Tegan, who met his eyes and had to cover her mouth to conceal the grin that still peeked out from between her fingers. 

“What?” he hissed, annoyed already by the fact she had insisted on sticking around for the conversation, unlike Adric and Nyssa who had wandered off, in respective order, to the buffet table and to examine the art hanging about the hall. 

“Nothing wrong at all, Doc,” he made out from behind her fingers, and rare it was for her to not have a complaint of some kind, however trivial, but genuine amusement was creasing the corners of her eyes, and he did a brief pat down of his hair and coat, finding nothing amiss in his appearance. So where was this coming from? He frowned at her, and turned back to the diplomat who was watching them with an indulgent smile. 

“Now, what were you saying about the treaty of Lindor before my friend rudely interrupted you?” His emphasis on ‘my friend’ did not go unnoticed by Tegan, who struggled to stifle a snort behind her hands, but the diplomat was looking pleased. 

“Perhaps we could continue this conversation in my rooms, without the, ah, interruption.” He’d leant forward to put a hand on the Doctor’s arm, voice welcoming, but Tegan was positively quaking at his side now, and he opened his mouth to suggest perhaps she could find Nyssa to keep her company while he continued the conversation, but suddenly lost the ability to speak as a warm hand tucked itself into his, and a small frame leant itself against his free arm. He looked down in confusion at his companion, but her face was hidden by the frizz of curls tucked against his shoulder, so turned back as the diplomat took a step back, apologetically.

The diplomat looked disappointed, but suggested some titles where he could find further information on what they had been talking about in case he changed his mind and Tegan wobbled against his side. They parted with smiles, Tegan still tottering at his side as they walked away, and hidden by the crowd, pulled away from each other.

“Sorry for the ear-bashing he’s given you,” and the Doctor saw the diplomat mouth the words in puzzlement, but Tegan was bowling past any possible interruption, “but this galah has promised to muster the ankle-biters for tea.”

“Ah, quite,” the Doctor agreed, not understanding a single word beyond tea, but Tegan’s voice was assured, and the hand in his was clenching it quite speakingly, and he put his free hand over hers, patting it firmly, because he hoped to be able to use that hand in the future thank you. 

‘“May I ask what that was?” and Tegan was bent over, hands on her knees and positively cackling. He gently pulled her away from the crowd against the wall and let her calm down. 

“I, uhm, don’t think he was your type, Doc,” and- ah. She stood back up, still letting out the occasional snicker, but wiping the tears away from her gleeful eyes, her fingers coming away colourful with smudged makeup. “You’d still have missed it if he’d written it on a brick and thrown it through your window, wouldn’t you?”

“We were simply having an interesting conversation,” he protested, but that set her off again, pointing at him and giggling, and they were starting to draw attention. 

“Cripes, Doc, you can be a drongo.” And why were they all speaking a different language all of a sudden? She patted his arm, but her face was still twisted in mirth. “Haven’t had anyone be that obvious since a friend’s hen, right smooth-talker there.” 

She stepped away from him then, craning her head over the crowds to seek out Adric and Nyssa, and Australians. He would never understand them.