Hello !! Take This As A Free Token To Ramble About Your Wips. What Are You LOVING Writing Rn? Who Are

Writing Update 5/15/2025

Hi hi! For the most part, I've finished the hero side of the worldbuilding. I mostly just have to think of more holidays. Anyways, here are the categories of heroes for anyone interested (keep in mind this is a draft that needs more polish):

Commons - Heroes that represent common hopes and dreams.

Pinnacles - Heroes that represent hopes that are achievable, but need a lot of work to become reality, and depend highly on the direction of the future. This can include heroes that represent concepts like world peace or futuristic technology.

Ambitions - Heroes that represent hopes and dreams that are more personal, such as hopes for one's family, personal goals, and so on.

Unattainables - Heroes that represent human desires or dreams which can not be attained. Some are obvious like those based on things like flying or shape shifting dreams, while others are more abstract and connect to humans attempting to disregard their humanity.

Tag list: @aweirdshipp, @floofyboi57, @aralithmenathere

Now, more than ever, it's important you don't let current events dissuade you from writing. We have to be bold, and loud, and authentic to who we are. Your story matters. Your voice matters. Don't be afraid. Don't curtail your vision to comply with anyone or any other source of creative oppression. We can't afford to concede ground or be complacent. Artistic integrity is our duty to who we are as people.

If you're a writer you're supposed to write a lot of bullshit. It's part of the gig. You have to write a lot of absolute garbage in order to get to the good bits. Every once in a while you'll be like "Oh, I wish I hadn't wasted all that time writing bullshit," but that's dumb. That's exactly the same as an Olympic runner being like "Oh, I wish I hadn't wasted all that time running all those practice laps"

signed hardcover giveaway!

my queer cozy fantasy THE KEEPER OF LONELY SPIRITS has been out for one month. to celebrate, I'll be giving away one (1) signed hardcover

the giveaway is open internationally to countries that can receive USPS packages. it'll run across platforms, but there will only be one (1) winner

enter by 5p.m. EST on Friday, May 2, by...

following me

reblogging this post

bonus entry: tag a friend

BOOK DESCRIPTION

Find an angry spirit. Send it on its way before it causes trouble. Leave before anyone learns his name.

After over two hundred years, Peter Shaughnessy is ready to die and end this cycle. But thanks to a youthful encounter with one o’ them folk in his native Ireland, he can’t. Instead, he’s cursed to wander eternally far from home, with the ability to see ghosts and talk to plants.

Immortality means Peter has lost everyone he’s ever loved. And so he centers his life on the dead—until his wandering brings him to Harrington, Ohio. As he searches for a vengeful spirit, Peter’s drawn into the townsfolk’s lives, homes and troubles. For the first time in over a century, he wants something other than death.

But the people of Harrington will die someday. And he won’t.

As Harrington buckles under the weight of the supernatural, the ghost hunt pits Peter’s well-being against that of his new friends and the man he’s falling for. If he stays, he risks heartbreak. If he leaves, he risks their lives.

click here to add the book on TheStoryGraph: link to The Keeper of Lonely Spirits on TheStoryGraph

bitchmysteries

replace one word of your url with bitch

All of my work to date (1,300,000+ words) has been scraped and added to a dataset shared in multiple places online for the purpose of training Generative AI. If you write fanfic, yours probably has too.

It's years of work—countless hours—countless body aches, missed meals and lost sleep. All of it, for free. For joy, for the love of it. For your love of it—and someone felt entitled to take that and use it for their own personal gain. For profit.

As a writer, it's hard not to be angry about that. I do however, think it's important to highlight this:

Generative AI will never replace us.

AI can't make you feel what I make you feel—what any other writer on earth can make you feel—because real emotion, real connection and real storytelling comes from the heart and it doesn't have one.

AI has never felt hopeless, it's never felt alone, or burdened, or in love, or so ecstatically happy it could cry. It doesn't know grief, it doesn't know joy, it knows simple binary code—zeros and ones, and that's all.

The joy of literature is in connection and in our humanity, and call me sentimental, but that is something that cannot be taught.

to summarize: you have the moral backbone of a flatworm if your response every time harry potter comes up is to make it about your inability to give up a book

I made the community. Let me know if you want an invite!

Tag list: @aweirdshipp, @floofyboi57, @aralithmenathere

Hi peeps! As I work on Every Hero Needs a Villain, do y'all want me to make the community for it so you can see some funny behind the scenes stuff and potentially certain bios as I make them? You can also make suggestions for stuff there if you want. Trying to encourage myself to complete them.

Tag list: @aweirdshipp, @floofyboi57, @aralithmenathere

MY HEARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT! That was so precious. You could just feel their history together, and now they're gonna be together. 🥺 Glad they had a time to relax and talk, even if they'll need to have a deeper discussion about it later down the line.

The compound sounds so cool! The descriptions you gave were great. It really feels alive like Jesse said, and you can just feel the activity buzzing with in. It'll be interesting to see how Jesse and Lira integrate into the compound. With their skills, I imagine they could be a great help around the place.

I also already love Maive, and Veyra always makes me smile. She's definitely one of my favorite characters now, though of course I adore Jesse and Lira.

Chapter 7 - Comfort.

The room was quiet, save for the soft crackle of a candle burning low on the far table. The air was warm, still, and heavy with the scent of wax—faint, but unfamiliar enough to remind them they weren’t home.

Jesse stirred first, her eyes blinking open against the dim orange light filtering in through a covered vent. For a brief moment, she forgot where she was. Her muscles tensed on instinct until the sound of soft breathing from the next bed grounded her again.

Lira.

Jesse turned her head, watching as Lira lay curled under the blanket, her hair slightly tousled, lips parted as she breathed slowly. She looked younger like this—less guarded, less ready to fight the world with her fists clenched.

Jesse sighed and let her body relax fully for the first time in what felt like days.

Eventually, Lira stirred too, eyes opening just enough to catch Jesse watching her. “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice rough from sleep.

“Or… whatever time it is.” Jesse gave a sleepy smile.

They sat in the quiet for a few beats longer, neither rushing to move. It was the first moment they’d had where survival wasn’t the immediate priority, and both of them were reluctant to break it.

Then Jesse sat up slowly, stretching her arms over her head. “So this is peace, huh?”

Lira nodded, rubbing her face. “Feels weird. Not fighting for once.”

Jesse gave a soft laugh. “Maybe we should get used to it. At least for now.”

Lira rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she shook her head. “No, it’s probably best we don’t get too comfortable yet.”

“I guess you’re right, but we could at least take this morning slower than normal and just relax… right?” Jesse asked, her voice almost pleading with Lira to slow down and relax.

Lira’s expression softened as she laid back into the bed again. “We have been going pretty hard… I guess one morning of peace and comfort isn’t the worst.”

Lira stood up and grabbed Jesse’s shirt, admiring the softness of the fabric before tossing it to her. “Put this on though, we should at least get comfortable with the new area.” Lira turned to give her friend a hint of privacy as she felt a blush rising up on her cheeks again.

Without hesitation, Jesse nodded and pulled on the shirt, the shoulder’s dull ache a calm reminder of what they had been through. As soon as her chest was covered, she stood and walked behind Lira, pulling her into a tight hug.

The sudden pressure of Jesse’s chest against her back made Lira jump and blush even more.

“I-I…” Lira stammered, her voice wavering.

“Don’t worry, Lira, just relax with me. Whether it’s in this room or out there, we’ve got each other’s backs.” Jesse squeezed Lira tighter and smiled, resting her head on Lira’s shoulder.

The two sat in a comfortable silence with Jesse holding her close, Lira’s head leaning to the side and resting on Jesse’s.

Then, a soft knock on the door, the sound of knuckles rapping on the metal before it slowly creaks open, Veyra poking her head around the corner. “I trust you two are…” Veyra’s eyes widened softly as she looked at the gentle scene, “oh good, you’re getting along just fine.” She giggled and stepped into the room fully.

Lira blushed even further, but Jesse couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Come now, you think I’m not used to seeing this kind of thing between two obvious lovebirds?” Veyra asked, smiling softly.

Lira was speechless, her jaw dropped as she looked down at Jesse.

Jesse’s eyes shone beautifully in the candle light and Lira couldn’t help but relent and nod. “My question is how long Jesse has felt this way…”

Jesse giggled and shrugged, finally managing to peel off of Lira’s back. “It’s been a little while…I could feel it brewing since the moment you walked into my life.” Her voice was dripping with sincerity, soft and calm. “I’ve liked you for a long time now… longer than I wanted to admit.”

Lira chuckled softly, trying to mask how flustered she had grown.

“Seems like you two are ready to explore the compound now,” Veyra smiled softly, pushing the door open the rest of the way.

Through the cold metal door frame, they could see a much warmer view of the rebel compound. There were still groups of people speaking even as the evening became night time.

Before the two walked out together, Lira whispered in Jesse’s ear. “Looks like we’ve got some talking to do later.” With that, they stepped across the threshold together, taking confident strides as their hands brushed against one another, sending a jolt of white hot connection through the two.

The cool night air hit their skin like a wave of ice water.

The sound of conversation had picked up slightly, growing more focused on the two of them.

One woman stepped forward from her group, offering a hand to both of them. “You two must be Lira and Jesse,” she said, her tone calm yet curious. “I’ve heard you’re planning on staying just the two of you. If you change your mind, you’ve got my support.”

The woman who’d greeted them had short, choppy hair dyed deep violet, and a jacket covered in stitched-on patches—most of them worn so thin you couldn’t make out the words. Her hand was calloused but steady as she shook both of theirs.

“I’m Maive,” she said, her voice carrying that quiet steadiness of someone used to surviving rough places. “Been here a while. Helped Veyra set up some of the security protocols. If you need help finding your footing, I’m around.”

“Thank you,” Jesse replied, her voice softer than usual as she tried not to shrink under all the attention. Lira stood slightly ahead of her, clearly taking the lead again.

Maive gave a reassuring nod. “You’ll be fine. People around here talk a lot of shit, but most of them mean well.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Come on, I’ll walk you around before they start asking you questions.”

The compound wasn’t a bunker so much as a repurposed skeleton of an unfinished underground transit hub. Graffiti and torn banners hung from exposed steel beams, and faint techno beats leaked from some unseen speaker system deeper in the compound. A few people nodded to them as they passed, eyes lingering just long enough to feel noticed.

There was a corner with crates stacked high—supply cache, maybe weapons. Another hall smelled strongly of spice and broth—mess area. Someone had built a makeshift garden under industrial grow lights, rows of leafy greens taking root in salvaged plastic tubs.

“Don’t expect comfort in the corpo sense,” Maive said, leading them through a dim corridor lined with mismatched doors. “But you’ll eat. You’ll sleep. You’ll have people who watch your back.”

Lira slowed near the garden, curiosity flickering in her expression. “You grow your own food here?”

Maive nodded. “Some. The rest gets traded or stolen. Depends on the month.”

Jesse trailed a few steps behind, eyes wide. This place wasn’t just a hideout—it was alive. Worn-down and stubborn, but real.

When they looped back toward the main chamber, Maive paused and gave them a final once-over. “There’s a war coming whether you join it or not. But if you do—” she pointed back toward the candlelit hall, “you won’t be fighting alone.”

Jesse giggled and nodded. “I appreciate it, Maive. We appreciate it.”

Lira nodded slowly, still taking in all the wonderful things around them and unable to hold back a smille.

I know I've reblogged this before, but I want to reblog it again because yeah, this is so real. A trend I've noticed is some people just despise redemptive villains. I'm not talking about people who rightfully criticize badly written redemptive villains. I'm talking about the people who, if you so much as mention the idea of a redemptive villain, will immediatly act as if you've created a major writing error. I imagine this is one of the trends this post is discussing. "It's harder to just let your villains stay evil," It really isn't, actually. At least not from my experience. I say this as someone who has written both. Letting villains remain horrific is very easy, but writing in an arc where said character decides to do better is far harder.

It sucks that sometimes it feels like the only thing I can do to make a character need redemption is say a few mean words, otherwise they'll be seen as "past the point of no return". And don't get me wrong, though redemption stories are also important. I just wish people realized letting horrific characters redeem themselves also makes for great stories, and that there is such an importance for them.

the concept and idea of “you can always start trying to be a better person” is extremely important to me both in media and irl and i continue to be deeply deeply disturbed by the trend on this site pushing that these ideas in media are bad writing or even morally reprehensible

because theyd rather someone stay terrible or just straight up die than become a better person 

from a compassionate point of view it’s deeply distressing and from a pragmatic point of view it’s outright frustrating

it’s fucked up.