Jade Pithwright

Speculative Fiction Writer Cover photo credit: Pixabay Photography. Find more from Pixabay on Pexels: https://www.pexels.com/@pixabay/

[writing-prompt-s]

A dating service where matching is based on people’s search history exists. You’re a serial killer. You go on a date with a writer.

[endreams-s]

Serial Killer: metaphorically, if you were to kill someone, how would you do it?

Writer: Air shot between the toes, it’ll look like a heart attack.

Serial Killer who is obviously in love already: *sucks in a breath* ok

[honeypressed]

Writer: how long would it take to die if you were to potentially stab someone in the guts

Serial killer: anywhere from 2 to 30 minutes

Writer, already bringing a ring out: *shaking* thanks

[moonreflectioninthefragglepond]

A++ addition

[tetsuskitten]

Writer: *shows the serial killer the murder scene they’re writing* babe, i’m not sure if this would actually work?

Serial killer: *kisses writer on the forehead and leaves, comes back later, a suspicious scent of blood coming off them* it works baby, you’re doing great

[tigerliliesandcherryblossoms]

I LOVE THIS

[vmohlere]

Oh no, murder comedy is my jam

[laziestofthedreamers]

I love this, I love all of this, but quick question, does the author know? Like are they aware that their significant other is a serial killer or do they just think that they have a morbid sense of humor? It’d be even funnier if the author had no fucking clue, like how Aurthur Conan Doyle was apparently stupidly gullible, and on top of it they’re a horror or crime novelist. Like the serial killer works at a butcher shop or something so it’s completely normal for them to come home smelling like blood, no murders going on here, no sirey. Just my darling coming back home from a long day at work.

Now fast forward a bit and the author has managed to get their first book published, with loving support from the serial killer who helped them fine tune all the murder scenes, and it’s a big hit. Enough so that a detective with the local police department has noticed some disturbing similarities to several active cases, including details that were never released to the press. Obviously he brings this up to his superior and convinces him that there’s something to the theory, but it’s all circumstantial right now. He stakes out the author’s home and is super convinced that the author is the murderer, but they don’t seem to do anything??? Like they literally are at the house all day, that’s it. Most they do is leave for groceries.

So you get this dynamic of the serial killer mining the author for creative murder schemes, the author being lovingly encouraged by the serial killer, and finally the detective who is just so sure that the author is the killer and that if he sticks it out long enough he’ll FINALLY have proof.

[pamgkrthwrites]

Plot twist, The serial killer and detective use to go out so it gets sub what personal. 

“You need to stop seeing them. I think they are a serial killer.”

Serial killer breaths in. “Look-”

[ladyhavilliard]

…perfect

[outerspacekake]

I don’t like actual murder mysteries, but this is perfect

[yourpotatotwiceremooved]

THE ORIGINAL POST HOW DID I GET SO LUCKY

[serpant-of-heaven-deactivated20]

Oh my god I would watch/read the hell out of this shit

[saturnsconstellation]

Need to repost before it’s gon

[kedreeva]

Following the author of The Last Unicorn on Facebook is the only thing that makes being on that site worthwhile.

(source)

[scarefox]

[neenarchive]

vampire hunter? no i said vampire HAUNTER. this jerk sucked all my blood out so now i spend my afterlife knocking over shelves and scaring off potential victims and just making the castle generally pretty cold

[neenarchive]

it's always 'bleh why are the plates floating', 'gah who knocked over my blood goblet' and never 'sorry for killing you' ok starve then!

[neenarchive]

and what are you going to do about it? have a priest exorcise the place? yeah good luck with all the crosses and holy water you piece of shit

[dragonhoardingwips-deactivated2]

Could you reblog this if you enjoy seeing your writer friends ramble about their wips on your dash?

[mousegirlheart]

look at her

[qwertgfx]

Choose Your Hue!

Pixel Version of the color wheel art challenge. Which one is your favorite?

[myjetpack]

My latest cartoon for Guardian Books.

[depsidase]

[seabeck]

Sea stack, Neah Bay

[happyllamaglama]

[retroscifiart]

Art by Tony Roberts

[retroscifiart]

Hot off the easel ‘Ringed Exo-Planet’ by Steve R Dodd (2024)

[mysharona1987]

[rheas-chaos-anthology]

What you HAVE TO know about your characters

Name:

Appearence:

Age:

Role:

Why the have that role:

Beliefs:

Motivations:

Who they were raised to be vs who they are/are becoming:

Plans for the future:

How they feel about themselves and how it affects their behavior:

Why do they even matter:

[catchymemes]

[bumblebeebats]

All throughout childhood, while my peers were socializing and making friends, I studied the blade read so many books that I am now almost legally blind, which left me with vast and deeply instinctual understanding of English grammar - and next to no ability to explain how it actually works. Friends will often ask me to proofread their writing and then get very mad when I say things like, "You need to completely reverse this sentence and cut this clause entirely; no, I'm sorry, i don't know why, I just know that the way it is now ITCHES 😭"

Now, what I want to see is a fantasy story where this plays out with MAGICAL grammar. Someone from a backwater town deeply steeped in folk magic arrives at Wizard Uni where all their fellow students are like "What do you mean, we should add another '𝞯∘⋇𝞿' to the incancation because it 'sounds better'? What do you mean, 'it could just be a regional thing'?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'THIS SPELL JUST FEELS LIKE IT NEEDS A LIVE RAT'????"

[writing-prompt-s]

your parents just sold you as their firstborn to a fey. problem is you’re already an adult.

[theamazingontos]

My dad’s old. That’s not really a problem by itself, but the fact that he’s still working to support my step-siblings is frustrating. They’re both teenagers already, and out of school besides. They just sit at home while he works fourteen hour says at the garage to keep them and his wife happy.

I don’t like my dad’s wife. She’s too pretty, even for her age. If she didn’t work as hard as he does in her catering business, I’d actually hate her. That could be a problem for her, since she doesn’t know who I am to her, just that I’m one of her part time bartenders. She takes care of her staff, but since my problem with her would be personal, she wouldn’t see me coming until it’s too late.

The problem began, and ended, the day of my step-brother’s eighteenth birthday. Since it’s legal in this country to start drinking at that age, his birthday party had a wet bar, and guess who’s the bartender?

“Greetings, daughter. I’ve come to take the firstborn, as was promised in exchange for your freedom. We can take the firstborn male, or the firstborn daughter. Choose,” a statuesque woman says to my father’s wife and him, then grins, showing pointed teeth.

Before either can answer, I grab my dad and pull him halfway across the bar. “Don’t let her speak. You make the trade on her behalf, using your rights as her husband to do so. Give me to her. I’ll get this sorted. No need to mess up your new family,” I practically hiss, and he nods frantically before pulling away.

“You can have my firstborn. Leave my wife alone, please,” he says in a rush, trying to get the words out before she can say anything. “I’m her husband, and I speak for the entire household.”

“Agreed. Come, boy. You are mine now,” the woman practically purrs, and reaches towards my younger brother.

“Don’t know why you’re trying to grab my little brother, woman. You’d best keep your hands to yourself, if you want to keep them,” I drawl, before sliding over the bar to stand between them. I remember reading in stories that you should never show weakness to one of the fae.

“Who are you?” a half a dozen people ask at once, but I only answer the fae in charge.

“I’m his firstborn. That’s who you just agreed to take, and that’s who I am, poppet. Bit of advice, as your bondsman. Dont assume, it makes an ass of you and… well, just you in this case. Now, let’s be off, poppet,” I say, then give her a maniacal grin.

“He will not do. He is too old to take your place. I declare the deal made in poor faith, and I will take them both,” she snarls, and tries to snatch both of my step-siblings. I grab her, and lay a steel knife against her neck. She howls in pain, loudly enough that glasses start shattering, and I let her go.

Before she can make another attempt, I yell a name three times, sinking as much intent I can into the word. The fae freezes, literally freezes into a solid block of ice, as a woman that makes supermodels self-conscious steps out of a shadow. “WHO SUMMONS MAB!?”

“I do, my queen. My liege-woman seeks to renege on a deal made and fulfilled, so dishonoring your Court and all fae. If you would lend us your wisdom, we may see who was wronged, and make redress appropriate to that party,” I say, and all of the onlookers keep staring, slack jawed.

She doesn’t ask either side a single question, instead quickly looking them in the eyes before moving on. She then picks a bystander at random and does the same, before turning to me. “You acted as honorably as you could, given the circumstances. You may even be as useful as the boy would have been. As such, your fee-simple is now mine, as your liege-woman is no longer in a position to require your services.”

“May I ask two questions, and possibly a third, to clarify the situation for everyone involved?” I say, but before I can start, she gives the answers.

“Firstly, we take the young ones to turn them into soldiers and assassins. We cannot handle cold iron, and much of the modern age’s weapons are powered by this ferromancy. Secondly, you are in bond until death. I may not release you from service while you live, or I will have broken the agreement that will protect your kin from retribution. Finally, you are mine now because I am her queen, and she is no more. Now, let us be off,” she declaes, and twin booms echo out. The first from the block of ice with the fae shattering, and the second from a gate to another world opening.

I walk with my head held high towards the gate, mostly relieved that the Queen decided in our favor, but also because I was finally able to do something for my father. As I pass through, I hear my youngest sister say thank you, and the gate closes behind me.