VioletWoodnymph

Today is not like any other day. Today is a time of reflection and a time of reckoning.

🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡

FIVE YEARS OF QUINNDEPENDENCE

DON’T LET THE BASTARDS GET YOU DOWN

AS FANNIE LOU HAMER SAID, “NOBODY’S FREE UNTIL EVERYBODY’S FREE”

PEACE AND LOVE TO YOU ALL

Doofenshmirtz has been waiting nearly two (2) decades to be a Tumblr sexyman and it would be cute if he finally wins

Me: Okay well actually we're going to go home, have dinner, then dessert, then we can play your video game, then tubby then bed

Penny: Okay no tubby, games first, deal?

Me: This is not - what is happening right now?

Penny: Dada?

Dada: Arbitration?

Penny: I want to use bare foot when we go outside

Me: I didn't know we were going outside but you have to wear shoes girl

Penny: okay but what about I use bare foot's but at Penny's house? This deal?

Me: you know what yeah fine if you agree to not fight about shoes when we leave the house you can be barefoot in the back yard, deal.

Penny: -sticks her hand out expectantly- we deal?

Penny: but I want to go shool pwease

Dada: okay well it is 8pm, so you have to go to sleep now

Penny: okay but I see my fwiends at shool now please, deal?

Dada: Darling no one is at school, all your friends are asleep as well.

Penny: all Penny's fwiends are sweep? What about we... get in Dadas car and check to see watch them sweep, yes deal?

Me: (watching Penny scoot her step stool over to where we keep the candy jar): hey honey we're literally walking out the door to go get dinner, maybe we wait on the candy okay?

Penny: Oh but I will have some candy?

Me: Why don't you come have some mac and cheese and then when we get home you can have some candy, deal?

Papa: (yesterday morning, when Penny was a little grumpy) What about you come downstairs and we'll have some waffles and then tomorrow Papa will take you to the Diner in town for breakfast?

Penny: (extending her tiny hand to a VERY confused man) this is deal?

Papa: (not knowing hes entering a literal contract) uhm yeah deal.

-smash cut to 6:30 AM this morning-

Me: Okay baby this is going to suck. This is going to hurt real bad for a second and then it's going to feel weird and then it's going to feel good. You're going to hate it. But if you let Mama get these three medicines in and on you [Listerine, Antacid, Tylenol] you can scream it out and then we'll go get some ice cream! Deal?

Penny: (obviously not thrilled with this idea) okay, three big shreams, three medicines, ice cream ... it will suck... ice cream ... deal. (Sticks out hand and we shake on it)

Me: okay let's do this I'm so sorry (starts the process)

Penny: I will go upstairs and get my body clean but you hafta titch me, deal?

Dada: I would love to make this deal with you kid but I literally have no idea what you are saying- I don't know what the terms are, you're speaking a language I don't speak

Penny: you have to titch me like mama does okay DEAL!? (Sticks tiny hand out aggressively)

Dada: (looks at me bewildered for help)

Me: ( starts making a quick tick tick tick sound imitating a stop watch like I'm timing her, while penny jumps around yelling YES TITCH ME LIKE THAT)

Dada: In what world was I ever going to figure that out, thank you for acting as our legal interpreter yes deal let's go!

Penny: But I don't want to be sleeping, I want to stay up now! I want to see Grampy and Cozy and Guppie and Papa!

Mama: What if we video call all the grands and say good night to everyone? If we do that will you then go to bed no fussing?

Penny: Oh yes, this is deals! -sticks her hand out to shake-

** we make the rounds and video call all her grandparents, they are all already in bed and say good night and penny hangs up the last video call and toddles into bed with minimal fussing **

Me: Hey baby do you want to make a deal about school?

Penny: (immediately sticks out her hand, literally no hesitation, her entire demeanor changing in an instant) yes let's deals, I will be big and brave and go to school no fussing, and you will put Halloween every where all over my house, okay this is deals Mama??

Penny: (is doing some strange interpretive dance to let us know she's not a fan of the cup we've chosen to put her juice in, mind you this is the only clean cup at this moment. She is hopping up and down, and swinging her arm like an elephant trunk, she is pirouetting, her hands are on her hips. Shes is completely silent)

Husband: okay, you can not leave your room until someone comes and gets you okay? You're getting up way too early and we're guests in Papa and Guppies house so you stay and play in your room and someone will come get you when you can come out of your room tomorrow morning, deal?

Penny: (hand extended, plotting) deal

-smash cut to the next morning, penny is NOT in her room at the allotted 7:30 AM retrieve Penny Rose Time, we find her in bed cuddled up with my mom and dad watching a movie-

Penny: (hands out in a "calm down" gesture) LISTEN LISTEN I DIDNT LEAVE! I DIDNT- I didn't break da deals! I just knocked on the door until Papa came and got me.

Papa: (laughing hysterically) WELL DONT SNITCH!

Penny: I DIDNT DO NOTHING I KEPT MY DEALS! YOU JUS SAID SOMEONE HAD TO COME GET ME! PAPA COME GET ME!

Penny: can we watch a Pokémon?

Me: I'll make a deal with you?

Penny: -sits down at the dining room table like she's on literal trial- Listening

Me: if you can do bath time and get around for bed with literally NO FUSSING you and I can watch ONE POKÉMON in mama and dadas bed before you go to bed! IF I HEAR ONE BIT OF FUSSING POKÉMON IS OFF THE TABLE!

Penny: -folding her hands ready to counter, speaking to me like I'm losing my faculties- uhm, no deal Mama, I want Pokémon on the TV not on the table.

Me: -trying not to die- that's ...no I just mean the deal is if you fuss at all there will be NO POKÉMON TONIGHT

(a worldbuilding roast. with love.)

So. You’re building a fantasy world, and you’ve just invented: → Three types of ceremonial jewelry → A spice that tastes like cinnamon if it were bitter and cursed → A holiday where everyone wears gold and screams at dawn

Cute. But that’s not culture. That’s aesthetics.

And if your worldbuilding is all outfits, dances, and spice blends with vaguely mystical names, your story’s probably going to feel like a cosplay convention held inside a Pinterest board.

Here’s how to fix that—aka: how to build a real, functioning culture that shapes your story, not just its vibes.

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🔗 Culture Is Built on Power, Not Just Style

Ask yourself: → Who’s in charge, and why? → Who has land? Who doesn’t? → What’s considered taboo, sacred, or punishable by death?

Culture is shaped by who gets to make the rules and who gets crushed by them. That’s where things like religion, family structure, class divisions, gender roles, and social expectations actually come from.

Start there. Not at the embroidery.

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2.🪓 Culture Comes From Conflict

Did this society evolve peacefully? Was it colonized? Did it colonize? Was it rebuilt after a war? Is it still in one?

→ What was destroyed and mythologized? → What do the survivors still whisper about? → What do children get taught in school that’s… suspiciously sanitized?

No culture is neutral. Every tradition has a history, and that history should taste like blood, loss, or propaganda.

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3.🧠 Belief Systems > Customs Lists

Sure, rituals and holidays are cool. But what do people believe about: → Death? → Love? → Time? → The natural world? → Justice?

Example: A society that believes time is cyclical vs. one that sees time as linear will approach everything—from prison sentences to grief—completely differently.

You don’t need to invent 80 gods. You need to know what those gods mean to the people who pray to them.

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4.🫀 Culture Controls Behavior (Quietly)

Culture shows up in: → What people apologize for → What insults cut deepest → What people are embarrassed about → What’s praised publicly vs. what’s hidden privately

For instance: → A culture obsessed with stoicism won’t say “I love you.” They’ll say “Have you eaten?” → A culture built on legacy might prioritize ancestor veneration, archival writing, name inheritance.

This stuff? Way more immersive than giving everyone matching earrings.

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5. 🏠 Culture = Daily Life, Not Just Festivals

Sure, your MC might attend a funeral where people paint their faces blue. But what about: → Breakfast routines? → How people greet each other on the street? → Who cooks, and who eats first? → What’s considered “clean” or “proper”? → How is parenting handled? Divorce?

Culture is what happens between plot points. It should shape your character’s assumptions, language, fears, and habits—whether or not a festival is going on.

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6. 💬 Let Your Characters Disagree With Their Own Culture

A culture isn’t a monolith.

Even in deeply traditional societies, people: → Rebel → Question → Break rules → Misinterpret laws → Mock sacred things → Act hypocritically → Weaponize or resist what’s expected

Let your characters wrestle with the culture around them. That’s where realism (and tension) lives.

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7.🧼 Beware the “Pretty = Good” Trap

Worldbuilding gets boring fast when: → The protagonist’s homeland is beautiful and pure → The enemy’s culture is dark and “barbaric” → Every detail just reinforces who the reader should like

You can—and should—challenge the aesthetic hierarchy. → Let ugly things be beloved. → Let beautiful things be corrupt. → Let your MC romanticize their culture and then get disillusioned by it later.

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📍 TL;DR (but like, spicy): → Culture is not food and jewelry. → Culture is power, fear, memory, contradiction. → Stop inventing spices until you know who starved last winter. → Let your world feel lived in, not curated.

The best cultural worldbuilding doesn’t look like a list. It feels like a system. A pressure. A presence your characters can’t escape—even if they try.

Now go. Build something real. (You can add spices later.)

—rin t. // writing advice for worldbuilders with rage and range // thewriteadviceforwriters

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I nod, setting down my chalk and spellbook. “It does sound like there might have been a bit of a misunderstanding.”

“She took against me, that's what happened,” the dead girl says with a scowl. She looks about fourteen, round faced and spotty, with whisps of brown hair peaking out from under her mob-cap. Her face and her crossed arms have a tell-tale bluish tinge to them. A cholera death.

“I been here for don't know how long and never gave any trouble. Nobody ever complained about me 'till her.”

…well, that's not strictly true.

Number 12, Barclay Street has been attracting rumours of haunting since the mid nineteenth century.

Sounds of faint singing and crying in the corridors at night. Cold spots. Doors that open and close by themselves. Animals acting strangely. Harmless, mid to low-level stuff, typical for a bored teenage poltergeist.

Still, pointing that out isn't likely to achieve much, and certainly the most recent complaints of blood running down the walls, screams in the dark and paralysing night terrors seem distinctly out of character.

The ghost toes the chalk again, more tentatively this time. It stays resolutely unbroken.

She could get out if she wanted to. I'm not one of those assholes who brings out their full arsenal of wards and sigils for a first meeting with a level 2 spectre. The summoning circle will keep her in one place for as long as I need her to talk, but it wouldn't hold for a moment if she really fought against it.

I take it as a good sign that she's still here. Pouting or not, she's clearly willing to work with me.

“None of the others could do this,” she says. “None of 'em even saw me.” She looks up. “Are you here to exise me?”

“Exorcise,” I say instinctively, and curse myself when she flinches. “Sorry, no, no! I don't exorcise people from their homes without good reason, not if they're happy where they are.”

“I was happy. Till she started calling in all them ghost hunters.”

Mrs Delaney had been quite persistent in her attempts to 'fix' her haunted house. Most of the people she found were charlatans, of course, but I'd still arranged an appointment as fast as I could once word reached me. It wouldn't have been long before she happened upon somebody with Talent, and unfortunately not everybody in this field knows how to behave like a professional.

“I think we might be able to help each other,” I say, careful to keep my voice calm and level.

“Don't see how. Not unless you can exorcise Her.”

“Not quite what I had in mind.” I pull out my phone and scroll through my photos. “You say that you're not the cause of the most recent incidents of paranormal activity?”

A pause. The ghost gnaws on her lip. I wait, patiently, keeping my body language open and nonthreatening. “I… I knocked her coffee cup over,” she admits at last. “She was being mean and talking on her telephone, saying I done all these things when I never did! So I decided to show her what I could do if I wanted.”

“Hmm.” The ghost eyes me nervously, as if expecting me to pull out a book, bell and candle and banish her on the spot.

“I only tipped it,” she adds. “I didn't break it or nothing!”

“You shouldn't have touched it at all,” I say sternly. “But… I can appreciate that you were frustrated, so let's say no more about it.”

The ghost looks relieved.

“My point is,” I continue, “if you weren't the one making blood rain from the ceiling or tormenting people in their sleep, then what was? There's no other ghosts on the property.” I find the picture I was looking for. “You can get anywhere around the house, right? Including behind the furniture and in the backs of cupboards?”

“Yes'm.”

I hold the phone up so that she can see the picture on the screen. “I'm going to let you go free in a moment, and I need you to see if you can find anything that looks like this.”

The ghost wrinkles her forehead. “What's that when it's at home?”

Tenna art by @9Aaaalt29 on twt