#found a little something i wrote back in late 2022

[elephantlovemedleys]

when the heart would cease, ours never knew peace

The moon was bright, the breeze of the wind breathing against the back of Robert’s neck, even from his spot in the shade. He craved to go back inside his chambers, as the sun had set and supper had been done but Elizabeth liked it out there, so he would stay. It was a comfortable silence, and he couldn’t stop staring at the way she looked so alive in nature. Her eyes were brighter, her skin warmer, her hair shinier. It was dizzying how irresistible she looked.  That’s the only way he thought to describe it. Beautiful. She was lost in her own thoughts, back resting against the trunk of the tree they were both sitting under. Robert was always wondering how even words on a page could not describe how she had made him feel, but it didn’t matter how many times he’d attempt to explain it, to properly formulate them into words, he never understood. He wished he could lose his focus on reality easily, but the only thing that ever came close was her. It felt wrong, but he could stare at Elizabeth for hours and never get bored of it. Sunlight made her stand out and moonlight made her shine; Nothing will take away your brilliance. He wanted to tell her….So badly. He wanted to say so many things—but something always stopped him. It almost tasted like fear. She’d have invaded his thoughts for days, and all he could think about was his hand brushing against hers, or the curve of her lips whenever she’d grin back at him. It was addicting. But he couldn’t tell her. Not yet. Not in the midst of chaos and despair. He would know when the moment was right.

[lavendersmemories]

I wrote this in like 2022? Thought maybe I’d post it. If a certain part seems too familiar I was obsessed with back up by deJ loaf at the time. I have a half written part 2 if anyones interested after this part.

Warnings: nsfw, smut, all characters are 18+, fem! Reader, not proof read, porn without plot, fboy Deku who’s not as good as he thought, sub Deku, begging, overstimulation, little bit of dacryphilia, might’ve missed something

Words: 3.2k

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Midoriya was going on a walk, it was pretty late Friday night. As he walked through the path of the UA dorm area he found a girl sitting on a bench by herself. He didn't recognize her, she was really pretty though. Not having any plans tonight her figured he might as well try for a bit of fun. He went and sat beside the girl, she took out her headphone and looked at him unamused.

"Can I help you?" She asked coldly. He stuck out his hand to her, she looked down at it unamused not accepting it. He put his hand back down with an awkward smile.

"Hey I'm Izu-" he said getting cut off by her.

"I know your name Midoriya, and I know all about your little reputation" she said rolling her eyes, he was a little taken aback but she was starting to intrigue him.

"I didn't realize I was starting to get famous. If you know about me then-" he tried again but she cut him off.

"I know you think your some kind of lady killer but I'm not like these other girls your messing around with, I think I'll pass" she said standing up to walk away, he grabbed her hand this firey attitude in her making him really interested in her.

"You didn't even let me finish, how'd you know that's what I was gonna say" he said making her turn around.

"Fine then what did you have to say?" She asked starting to get annoyed.

"I was going to ask your name, and who you are since I don't recognize you" he said, it was the half truth he was interested in that but she had it pretty accurate that his mind was elsewhere.

"I'm Y/n, a third year in the support course" she said, she left out her last name. Making him even more intrigued, the way that she had such an attitude and stayed mysterious made him want to dive in her pants even worse, as terrible as that may sound. It wasn't just that though, he did want to get to know this mysterious girl's personality and why she acted this way. He was glad she was at least in his grade though, he was really hoping the reason he didn't recognize her wasnt because she was a first year. It also confused him though how he never met her in these three years.

"Well tell me more about yourself Y/n" he said making her pull her arm away.

"I know what kind of game your trying to play, and I'm not falling for it. Honestly just because you get around doesn't mean your this hotshot that's going to get everyone to drop their panties for you, especially because I'm sure you've never actually made a women cum in your life." She said pretty confidently. He stood up with a smirk on his face.

"I mean you can test the theory then if your so confident in it. But I will say I always make sure she finishes first~" he said, using a different tone for the second part. He was trying to be seductive, any other girl would swoon but she was used to this.

Any guy that acted like him had never made her cum, only left her annoyed. So she was sure his 'amazing reputation' was all front, he was being honest though. It was his pride that he always left girls shaking.

She finally let out a sigh and looked at him, trying to act defeated. Inside she was wearing a giant smile, kind of excited to crush his ego.

"I mean fine if your so sure of yourself" she said, making the smirk go back onto his face. She started walking towards her dorm, he followed her quickly.

"By the way when I make you cum don't be blowing up my phone, it doesn't make me your boyfriend or anything" he said from behind her, she nodded trying to stifle a giggle as she kept walking.

She took him back to her dorm, going up to the top floor. He entered the room taking a quick look around as she locked the door, not quite what he was expecting but to be fair the only thing he knew about this girl was her first name. He didn't normally like to do something like that but sometimes it happens. The girl then startled him by teleporting infront of him.

"Oh fuck, you scared me" he said as she laughed quietly. That was one way to find out her quirk.

"Don't worry, I'll be full of surprises" she said with a smirk. She then leaned up kissing him, he kissed her back wrapping an arm around her waist.

He slowly inched towards her bed, making sure to not knock either of them over in the process. Gently pushing her onto it before climbing over her body. As she stared up at him there was just something in his eyes, it drew him in.

He leaned down needing to feel her soft lips against his again. Letting his hands trail down her sides, not pushing under the shirt or straying too far, he always did try his best to be respectful.

He didn't try to pry anything, but her tongue slide past his lips making a grunt leave his mouth. If this was her pace he could most certainly match it. His tongue swirled against hers, fighting for dominance. She decided to play along and let him win, being able to feel the satisfaction on his face although she knew she could instantly wipe that away if she so chose to.

His hands settled on her waist, holding tightly as he let his tongue freely move about her mouth, trying to explore every inch of it. He was feeling satisfied in this, feeling as though she was there at his mercy. But her thigh pressed up against his crotch, causing a stutter in his movements and unexpected moan.

He had to pull away, looking down at her with half lidded lust clouded eyes. She only stared at him innocently, moving to take off her shirt. And he was quick to follow.

"Let me touch you?" He asked softly after discarding his shirt.

"Don't really have to ask" she sounded almost annoyed, placing his hands on her sides. As he let his hands explore the soft exposed skin he lean down, face in her neck. "wanted to be a gentleman" was grumbled against the skin as he kept touching her. Gently kissing at the junction between her neck and shoulder as his hands met her chest.

An annoyed sigh left his mouth at the fabric keeping him from properly touching them. He was too nice of a boy to acknowledge it earlier but he knew she had a nice chest. And as the boob guy he was he was rather excited. His hands were quick to trail behind her back, getting at those clasps quickly.

As he sat up to help her completely pull off her bra his eyes sparkled. She did have a nice chest, infact he was sure he loved it he thought. His hands were quick to cup them, feeling himself twitch against his jeans at the softness. He could do this forever.

When he realized her gaze was fixated on him and his awed look he flashed a bright smile. Leaning down to press kisses onto her collarbone.

"You have a really nice body, so beautiful" he mumble out softly, green eyes staring up at her as he left those soft kisses. Instead of venturing lower like he would've liked to he was pulled up into another kiss.

He smiled against her lips, loving the soft feeling of them against his. He really hadn't realized how worked up he had gotten until a slight shift had his hips pressed against hers. And he had to hold back a whimper at the feeling. It embarrassed him how horny he was, he usually didn't feel this way nor move so quickly. But the feeling of her leggings inching down made him ready to rip off everything and just be inside.

He sat up, his face slightly flushed as he looked down at her lightly panting. He was tugging at his belt as he watched not only her legs be exposed but also her cunt. She really did move fast, but he would be lying if he said he didn't love this pace.

His pants were quickly tugged off and he was now spreading her legs, getting ready to dive right in when she stopped him with a gentle tug of the hair.

"That won't be necessary" his eyes went wide, she really wasn't gonna let him please her? His mouth hung open for a moment but he sat up anyway, looking down at the girl.

"Then should..." his voice trailed off slightly, not positive what to ask but as her gaze trailed to his boxers he got the message, quickly pulling them down.

After he took his boxers off he tried to get on top of her but was pushed onto his back. She climbed ontop of him straddling his waist. He looked up at her as she gently grabbed his cock, before she let him inside her she looked down at him.

"By the way if I fuck and make you cum you gotta promise not to stress me. Don't be blowing up my phone and don't be leaving voice messages" she said with a smile, making fun of what he said earlier. He tried to retort but she pushed the tip against her, he pressed his lips shut.

Her being on top of him did slightly ruin his usual method but he was sure he wouldn't have a problem, or could take back control and get on top eventually. He was pretty confident in this, he's always been good at lasting long.

She in one swift quick motion made their hips meet. He didn't know what happened but he let out a grunt and instantly released inside of her. His eyes were shut tight and he gripped the sheets as he drained his load. She was quite surprised but stayed as she was.

After about a minute he opened his eyes, his face was red and the embarrassment set in.

"I-I-I" he just stuttered over again. She put a finger over his lips, beginning to rock her hips back and forth. A loud moan left his lips. "Y-y-y/n you.. you can't do that... it's too much" he said grunting and moaning, his eyes closing tightly and his hand grabbing her waist.

"Come on Midoriya you were supposed to make me cum, wheres the fun in me getting one thrust" she teased him a big smirk on her face, but she did stop moving her hips since he asked. He looked up at her, his face was red and his mouth was just left hung open. She could make out some sweat starting to drip down his face. "Well I'm disappointed but I guess if your already tapped out.." she said lifting her hips to get off of him, his hips thrusted upwards to her. He wasn't sure why but the feeling of even a little of that overstimulating pleasure leaving made his body react on its own.

"N-no, more please" he whined out, she looked down at him surprised again. He grabbed onto her hips as he continued to grind his up into them. His eyes were beginning to gloss over, with all the girls that he had been with before he never felt this way before. He had never cum so quickly, and had never chased pleasure after an orgasm. Something about her had him entranced and needing more.

"Oh I thought it was too much?" She teased seeing his head shake on the pillow, she pushed her hips back down over his. Making a loud moan leave his mouth.

"Oh god, yes please more!" He pleaded as her hips started to slowly move. He kept bucking his hips up into hers begging for her to ride him faster. Her wet walls were absolutely strangling him as she slowly bounced herself on his cock.

"Please! Faster!! I need it, please Y/n!!" He begged, his eyes growing teary again. She rolled her eyes at the begging boy beneath her, as bad as she wanted to tease him she couldn't will herself to as he shamelessly asked for more. So she raised herself almost completely off of him, sinking back down on his cock before going at an unfair pace.

Izuku squealed at the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling, he had never had a girl make him feel this way before. Usually he'd be routinely pounding away (not that he was complaining, he always got to get off) and working circles on her clit while saying the nastiest words into her ear. Or if he had a girl ride him (which was hardly ever) he'd be guiding her, fucking her down onto his cock. Possibly even holding her still just to pound up into her.

But this was a completely different and new pleasure, this felt better then any sex he had before. This made all his other sex compare to nothing more then his left hand.

He was writhing underneath her, holding onto her thighs bruisingly as she kept unfairly riding him. Her walls squeezing around him for all he was worth. And as much as the pleasure burned, as much as he thought he should stop, he just couldn't. Not when it felt this good.

He stared up at her with glossy emerald eyes as he kept squeezing her thighs, digging his nails into the plush flesh. Loud moans wouldn't stop leaving his mouth. She on the other hand looked unphased above him, riding him like this which was to her content because Izuku knew he was powerless right now. He felt like she was just using him as a toy, and god did he love being her dildo.

A loud gasp left his mouth, followed by a sob as she angled her hips a new way, allowing him to hit deeper inside her which resulted in her squeezing him tighter. Tears rolled down his cherry red cheeks as his head tossed back and forth across the pillow. His tight grip on her thighs turning deathening as he tried to take the burn of the overstimulation out on them.

"O-oh god, fuck, please, please!!" He cried out, not even knowing what he was begging for at that point. Her head tilted down to check in on the boy beneath her again, and god he looked ruined. Tears were streaming down blushing cheeks as he cried his pleasure, sweat matting his curled locks to his forehead.

"Please what pretty boy?" She asked and hearing her sultry voice, plus the nickname made him snap again. His back arched and his mouth fell open as he shoot inside her once again. A shrill scream escaped his throat as he thrashed at his second overwhelming orgasm.

Her pace never faltered, staring down at the boy in amusement as she kept greedily riding his cock. He didn't know how but he was still half hard at this point, and unfairly twitching back to life inside her. He really didn't think he could handle anymore but he'd be dammed if he asked her to stop.

His eyes were fixated on hers as she gazed down at him. Even with his blurry vision he could make out the smug look on her face. He couldn't stop himself from coming undone like this though, he would choose this pleasure over anything else.

"Such a pretty little thing you are" she purred out softly, a choked out moan leaving him in response. And a loud sob followed as her hands met his chest, expertly playing with his nipples. His thighs shook above the sheets at the new pleasure of her fingers rolling his buds. He'd never been touched that way before, and he really didn't think he could take it on top of everything else.

"Y/n.... Fuck! I can't... can't take it!" He cried out, his eyes squeezing themselves shut tight. Even as he said that he wouldn't let go of her thighs, and his cock still throbbed inside her.

Her hips didn't slow though, they probably sped he really couldn't tell anyone. And she just kept squeezing around him, the sensation was growing tighter. Her delicate fingers were still dancing on his chest, just adding to the overstimulation that was melting his mind with each pinch and roll of his sensitive nipples.

His thighs shook beneath her as his eyes shot open, crying out wishing for the burn to stop even if it felt so good. Her expression above him was no longer smug his blurry vision was finally able to decipher, in fact she was biting her lip and looked to be struggling. And from the way her gushing cunt wouldn't stop clenching around him his two functioning brain cells were able to tell what was gonna happen.

So he willed himself to buck his hips up into her unforgiving heat, wanting so desperately to help her cum even if he could barely think. She was caught off guard and her motions on his chest had to pause as she tried to collect her bearings. As much as she wanted to hold back, make it look like she had so much more self control then him, she was failing and she knew she was gonna cum soon.

"Please!! Please, leaaaseee!!" Izuku forced himself to scream out, it was the most coherent he could get even though it was horribly slurred by all the drool in his mouth.

She took the hint, cursing herself in the back of the mind as she let herself give in. No longer ignoring the tightly wound begging coil in her stomach she moved a hand down to rub her clit. Quickly coming undone and convulsing around his cock. Izuku couldn't be happier to see her cum "for him", it wasn't much of his doing but it satisfied him. So much that the sight had his eyes rolling back and his back arching off the bed, pouring a third load into her tight clenching pussy. Until he was whining and whimpering, it really had become too much.

She looked down at him and mercifully lifted herself off from his cock. Wiping the tears and drool away from his pretty face as he hazily stared up at her, a happy dopey grin on his face and unfocused emerald eyes close enough to meeting hers. She gave his forehead a kiss before getting off the bed, fetching a towel to clean him up.

His hazy eyes opened a little surprised as she started cleaning him up, mumbling his appreciation. He was practically passed out right now, barely paying attention as she got herself dressed again.

When he forced himself to sit up he felt like he couldn't look at her with anything other then pure adoration. He sighed dreamily "this is more then a crush, i just might be in love" whether it was with her or her pussy was still to be determined.

[zanarkandfayth]

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

What inspired you to write Monsters Running Wild (Inside of Me), if it's not too difficult for you to talk about (given the subject matter of the story)? If it's too personal to share, (or you can also treat this as a bonus question!), what was your favourite comfort scene to write in that story?

thank you for the ask! I don't mind sharing though it's definitely gonna be a long, personal answer. also I laugh every time I see the title written out in full because I deliberately wrote it that way in an attempt to maybe discourage people from reading (don't ask lmao) and it makes me cringe. I should really remove the parentheses, or shorten the title maybe. ahem. anyways.

hhhh okay so I tend to be an oversharer so I will try to tone it down. the less-detailed answer is that I started writing monsters around early August 2022 I think? towards the beginning of that year I had two friendships blow up, the important one being the one with my bestie where our problems had been building for two years.

then in June the stomach problems I'd been having on and off since late 2019 that my doctor dismissed blew up, like "pain so bad for three days until I broke down and asked my mom to take me to urgent care and they sent me to the ER" blew up. which led to constant medical appointments and "throw medications at the wall and see what sticks" approaches, because nobody could find anything wrong with me. scans and tests kept coming back normal. I also had some separate health problems crop up during this point which just worsened things.

it is also notable that I'd been trying to move to Japan and teach English, which my stomach problems forced me to give up on, and that hurt a lot too.

so, yeah, basically mad depression over everything, I found myself feeling suicidal, and like. I have a past attempt. the mental hospital I got forced into for four days nearly killed me. that's not an exaggeration. I passed out and stopped breathing because they gave me two clashing medications. I really, really didn't wanna wind up back there if I failed in another attempt, and tbh, I didn't really WANT to make another attempt. but thoughts were in my head and I have no access to mental health care.

so in desperation I turned to fic. I wanted a long, angsty fic set before the game with a suicidal noct and ignis taking care of him, but there were none that I could find. and at this time, I had been working on another ffxv fic since November 2019, it was over 500k and nowhere near being finished (it's not posted anywhere rn except privately for people who are interested, because it's now over 600k and still not finished, send help) and I was. getting a little burnt out lol. so I was like "yeah okay, I can take a break to write something short with noct attempting to kill himself that's just for me"

I wrote it in my private just-for-me discord server. I had nothing specific in mind, I just started writing and let the words take me wherever they wanted. it was still largely the first chapter of monsters that is posted now, except there was no ignoct. when it was done, I shared it with the not-bestie, who loved it and then said something about how "if ignis hadn't shown up when he did then noct would have died and how would Ignis have felt coming in to yell at noct only to find him dead" and that they wanted to see Ignis have a nightmare about that.

I had already been on the fence about whether I wanted to write more, because I'd wanted more comfort than what I'd written and I also wanted to have Ignis find a note from noct, but I still had other fic to work on, but the not-bestie wanting a nightmare made me decide to at least (probably) write a second part.

I didn't, though, for like a month? I went back to the other fic. don't remember why I picked up monsters again, probably just still struggling with thoughts. I polished the first chapter and added a bit to make it ignoct, then I wrote out the second chapter with Ignis finding the note and the third chapter with him having the nightmare, then I kept going with noct being in the hospital and by that point a rough semblance of a plot idea was starting to form, so I decided to keep going and see where it took me.

that is probably about the point where my rocky frienship with the not-bestie started inspiring/influencing the fic. because I was talking with them a lot, but we weren't okay and we both knew it and it upset me. though to be clear, noct and iggy's messed up frienship is nothing like mine, I gave them their own problems, but it still felt really cathartic to write something where they weren't okay for a long time.

so yeah, the really really short answer is "I was fucked up and my most meaningful (but platonic) friendship was fucked up and it inspired me to write a fic where noct and ignis were fucked up (but still gay for each other) and then it just kept going" (:

also, bonus question... the stargazing at the sky walk scene is my overall fave, but I'm not sure that counts as enough comfort, so I'll say the scene at the end of chapter 31, where noct asks ignis what it was like for him when he walked in on noct's attempt. because they're both so touchy-feely and vulnerable and intimate and for all ignis' denial about their relationship, he knows, THEY know, they know they know, and also for a fic that is largely about ignis comforting/supporting noct, I love that noct is the one doing the primary comforting and supporting in that scene. it was so lovely to write.

I think this answer is too long. sorry 💀

[fangbangerghoul]

✨Writing Interview Tag Game✨

Tagged the other day by @roguishcat Sorry this is so late I turned off my notifications at the start of my semester. I've been really stressed lately.

When did you start writing?

Kindergarten. Jk. Um...fanfiction? 2007/08? It was personal writing with a friend in a bunch of notebooks. Didn't start posting till 2022 when The Batman came out. (dont look into this fact)

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I almost exclusively read Vampire/fantasy Romance. So, there is a difference. There have been a few books outside of that category I tackle but its normally related to my college work. I do think those horror/goth themes seep into my writing.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I do not think my writing has been compared to any other writing, at least not to me directly. I do really love the world building Charlaine Harris created. It is so lovely and to be able to write such an addicting 13 book series is something I hope to achieve as well.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I'm lazy so here's a picture:

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

It used to be absorbing other content by other artists but lately I couldn't tell you. I've been considering quitting writing for some time because I just don't enjoy it as much as I was.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Yes, angry violent woman. No it does not surprise me. There have been some themes of sexual assault and abandonment. Also doesn't surprise me.

What is your reason for writing?

Community. When I started writing in 2007/08 it was with a friend and the comradery filled a need I didn't have. I started again last year and found some community. It was great for the time being. Now I am not sure. I know most people say you should write for yourself but being a depressed person since the age of 9 it hard to center yourself like that. Another reason I am thinking about just quitting for some time at least till I find that spark again or reason.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

When the parts I had the most fun writing get complimented. I also appreciate the comments that pull favorite quotes. They are really wholesome and make me feel like my writing is appreciated.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I am okay with being the writer of the story that lives rent free in the back of your mind because it had such a mind-blowing event. Or maybe just a story that is thought of fondly occasionally.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Perhaps character psychology?

How do you feel about your own writing?

Right now, I am not my biggest fan but that's okay. I really wish I had a more poetic approach to writing or at least better with descriptions. I worry sometimes my writing is all events and no emotion.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Though my reason for writing is community at the end of the day when I can write I try to focus on stories I will enjoy or need to get off my chest. There have been a few fics in the past I wrote solely for mutuals, and I do not mind doing that because it brings me a lot of joy to create for others.

(I know some of the answers may have sounded a little sad. I want to clarify I am not looking for sympathy this is just truly how I feel at the time being and that is okay. I am okay with it.)

Tagging with no obligation:

@bearlytolerant @interplanet--janet @staticpallour @lisa-and-shadow @therealgchu

@soloavengers @arisenreborn @dryad-of-the-dogwood @eridanidreams @kimberbohwrites

[ghosdeds]

Soooo I just found this in my drafts funnily enough — I wrote it before the second season came out so I guess sometimes in late 2022/early 2023. Back when I was (foolishly) hopeful for season 2 and honestly I might make something out of it and get to writing.

-

How, in my opinion, they can salvage the ‘call me Aleksander’ scene : flashbacks of moments between the Darkling and Alina that we’ve never seen before (the deleted scenes!!! More of Alina’s life at the Little Palace please thanks), prior to the unfortunate name reveal, shown to us one by one as Alina grieve for what could have been and for the man she’s come to almost love. Mal calling him by his name and Alina immediately snapping at him not to say it aloud, with us the audience realizing that she feels guilty over sharing this last confidence she’s gotten from him. The Darkling letting her know, very bitterly, that she’s made him feel .. human (not in so many words, ‘course), that he thought he’d finally found the one who’ll accept and understand him, his one true equal, that he believed for a second that he’ll never be alone again, and him looking back at her and telling her he’s been unfortunately mistaken, that it was a weakness on his part - I put my trust in a girl who cannot stand the thought of her own potential - and that he’ll never even think of trusting her ever again, with her yelling back that he never really did, did he, that his flowery words meant nothing because it wasn’t enough, that he’s never given them a chance, that he shouldn’t delude his actions for what they are to ease his own guilty conscience, and that she’s the one who’s never going to trust him again. And then we have the Darkling responding that she never did, either, because she ran off without hearing his side of the story. We see them glaring down at each other, the echoes of the proud, hurtful words barring them from adding more, then the Darkling disappears and she’s left alone with her dark thoughts. We get the ‘you betrayed me’ as well as the ‘all men can be made fools’ line from Aleksander. We get a ‘I was merciful’ moment from the Darkling, after he threatens Mal’s life. We get the ‘I want you to know my name, will you have it?’ line in a different way, maybe a ‘I want you to know my story, will you hear it, Alina?’ and him telling her about the events in the Demon in the Wood, and us being shown them, of course, and more - how he came to be an ever present member of Ravka’s court and the founder of the second army, how badly the Grishas were treated and are treated even now. I want him to tell her about his past lives. If he obviously trusts her enough to tell her the name tattooed on his heart, he trusts her enough to tell her all that’s happened to him, to make her understand that not all things are black and white, that it was for the greater good, for them, and when he realizes that she can’t see past his wrongdoings, we see his anger. How dare she judge him when she’s abandoned Ravka for a peaceful life with Mal? When she’s betrayed him?

Season 2 do not fail me I want the best angst ever written, please. Let Alina find out Aleksander destroyed Novokribirsk because they were actively trying to assassinate her and that he wasn’t lying on that front, it’s interesting to see her conflicted emotions at war. I want a lovers to tragic obsessive enemies. I want misunderstandings, with the frustrating realization that they’ll never talk about anything without making it worse. But I also want Alina to realize that the Darkling is the extreme, that what he is fighting for might have started as a good cause, but that he lost himself centuries-of-persecution earlier. I want her to learn from his mistakes. To see in him a version of herself that she might become, should she forget herself. Overall I just want to see her fight for her people and become BAMF. Ughhh so many thoughts

[retrievablememories]

bleed | yuta (m)

pairing: yuta x black reader word count: 2.1k genre: smut, pwp warnings: nosebleed, bloodplay/blood consumption, dirty talk, fingering, public sexual acts, one mention of period cunnilingus a/n: i wrote this back in feb. 2022 when tinashe’s “naturally” came out but i ended up hating it and decided never to post it. however, i just watched “bones and all” and i found the theme of consuming your lover/becoming one a bit similar.....and i’m hoping maybe that movie has primed some of you for the content of this fic? 💀 so i’m giving it a chance now.

if not, let’s pretend this never happened....

please do heed the warnings, this is a little different from the usual fare on this blog. no, yuta is not a vampire in this fic. and this is how i imagine he looks here.

--

The air outside is dry and hot, and it surrounds you like a scratchy blanket you just can’t take off. You fan a hand across your face, trying to look unaffected even though you’re burning up. You agreed to go hiking with Yuta to spend some time with him today as he’d been quite busy at the tattoo studio lately, but you didn’t expect it to be quite so hot. Even your sundress isn’t providing the relief you’d like.

“Do you need to rest?”

“Maybe for a few minutes,” you say with a sheepish laugh, adjusting your sun hat on top of your head. You stop to lean against a thick tree trunk, trying your best to stay underneath the shade even with rays of sunlight breaking through the leaves. Yuta stands in front of you, tilting his head at you curiously. It makes his blonde hair flop into his eyes.

“You look like a nature fairy. I should take a picture,” he says.

You shake your head, though you bat your eyes at him playfully. “I look hot and sweaty.” You remain still anyway as you let him take a few pictures of you. He even gets a few laughs from you as he acts like a stunned and eager paparazzo, hitting ridiculous poses to get just the right angle. Afterwards, he comes over to show you the pictures and get your approval before saving them.

You rub your nose to scratch a small itch that’s arisen, but you must’ve done it a bit too roughly, because seconds later you feel that tell-tale rush in one of your nostrils.

When Yuta glances at you, his eyes widen. “Your nose is bleeding,” he says, speaking a little too late. You feel the trickle going down your philtrum and top lip, and you hurriedly lean forward and cup your hand underneath your nose to try to catch some of the blood and keep it from going onto your dress. You aren’t very successful, though; there are already some crimson drops staining the hem of your skirt.

“It must be because of the heat. Damn…my purse, Yuta. There are tissues.”

“Wait. Can I…” Yuta places his hands on your shoulders and turns you to face him.

“What are you doing?” you glance up at him, your eyes sliding up from his tattooed arms to his imploring expression and his parted lips. You give him an incredulous look as your heart beats a little faster. “You can’t be serious. Now?”

“Just a taste?”

You’re quiet for a few moments, the anticipation of what he’s asking of you swirling in your gut. It’s a quiet, out-of-the-way part of the forest, away from the main hiking trail; you doubt anyone will easily find you here. You’re anxious, but doing this in a semi-public place makes your nerves jitter from an emotion you dare to call excitement. “It’s going to ruin my dress, Yuta,” you complain.

“I’ll buy you another one just like it, baby. I promise.”

His tone is soft and promising even as his eyes and mouth are hungry, and something about that juxtaposition gets to you. It makes your core throb even in your current state. So you agree without thinking about it any longer. “...Okay. Just don’t take forever with it.”

Yuta leans his body into yours, one hand on the small of your back, and tilts your head up from its lowered position to draw his tongue across your bloodied lips. The metal of his tongue piercing against your skin makes a tiny shiver travel through you. His nose nudges yours as he licks your lips, and he groans at the taste of your blood. Your bloodied hand falls to your side, and you try to be careful of it touching your dress—not that it really much matters anymore.

His tongue slides up from your chin, and he kisses your philtrum where the blood has pooled in the little divot above your lips. The blood is still trickling down your chin in between the two of you, staining your skin and your clothes. Yuta sucks your top lip and bottom lip successively to clean them of blood, though the flow doesn’t yet stop, continually feeding him with more crimson. Finally, he fits his mouth over yours and fully kisses you, tasting properly like your blood. His hand tightens on your back, and a whimper escapes you.

“Why do you like this so much?” you whisper once you part from each other, trying to breathe steadily in and out of your mouth so you don’t inhale the blood.

“It’s having a part of you inside me,” he mumbles, and you’re actually surprised at his answer. Not that you haven’t asked him before, but he’s never answered it with this much intimacy until now. “Becoming one. Your blood is my blood, too.” His eyes seem to hold all the world’s emotions in them, and if you weren’t already enamored with him, you think you could be convinced into signing away your heart to him forever. “Isn’t that the type of romantic shit you like?” He speaks with his lips mere centimeters from yours, close enough to touch, as if he could breathe you in if he tried just hard enough.

“You are so strange,” you murmur. “I like you.” You both smile then, teeth reddened. He swipes his bloody tongue against yours, and you catch the tip lightly between your teeth before suckling it. Your kiss is a mess of your blood and both of your saliva dripping down your chins, but you adore it, and you tug him closer by his hair to show it. You already feel the beginning of an erection pressing into your stomach.

“Says the masochist,” he says, dragging his blunt nails across the sensitive skin of your nape. Your eyes nearly roll back at the sensation. The blood is starting to coagulate now, your nosebleed slowing, and you feel a bit uncomfortable with the drying, sticky blood on your face and chest and hand. Yuta isn’t finished with you though, proven by him taking his hand from your nape to slide his fingers into his mouth. “Slide your panties to the side for me.”

Your face burns, and your eyes dart around your surroundings. “You sure no one will find us here?”

“I’ve been to this trail and this little spot plenty of times. No one’s gonna find us unless they’re looking to do the same thing we are.”

“Ah, so you bring all your conquests here…? Nice to know.” You shake your head and snicker. Yuta only shrugs with a slight smirk, not bothering to deny your claim. With your clean hand, you reach underneath your dress to pull your underwear down completely, and they come to rest around your ankles. The less hassle for you, the better.

Satisfied with how wet his fingers are, Yuta slips his hand underneath your dress and slowly rubs at your clit, his fingers dipping lower on every other stroke to nudge against your opening. He situates his hand so that your clit slides between his ring and middle finger with every stroke instead of touching the small nub directly; he knows you prefer to be worked up like this. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, and you push your hips closer into his hand, the bark of the tree digging into your back. His tongue sticks out from the side of his lips as he focuses on pleasuring you, a soft and deep groan falling past his lips. “You’re so sticky and wet, and I’ve barely touched you. Guess I���m not the only strange one.”

Yuta does this for a few minutes more before sliding his middle and index fingers knuckle-deep into you, groaning at how your walls squeeze around him and how your face scrunches with the pleasure-pain of the stretch. He lowers his head to lick the drying blood off your chest and your neck as he pumps his fingers into you, his palm rubbing against your clit as he does. You don’t think you’ve ever felt quite so dirty before, which kind of scares you about a man you’ve only met and began dating a couple months ago, but it’s also exciting. You don’t know how anything after this could compare—and you sort of hope there isn’t an after.

He kisses you again, your teeth clicking together with his urgency to have your lips on his. The taste of his sanguine mouth as he twists his fingers inside you and nudges against that spongy spot inside you has your thighs quivering around his hand. “You’re so pretty when you bleed, baby. I’ve never seen such a bloody, pretty thing.” He praises you, his breaths heavy and tone rushed as he speaks against your mouth—into your mouth. “Makes me feel like a wild fucking animal—want to cum all over you, mark you. Or in you. Fill you up ‘til it’s dripping down those thick thighs.”

You chuckle breathlessly, sweat springing up on your body from his actions between your legs and the heat combined. “I-I’m flattered, but you wouldn’t say that if it were that time of the month.”

Yuta smirks, his eyes hazy with his lust. His expression seems to say if only you knew. “I’d suck your pussy no matter what time of the month it is.” He murmurs it like he’s telling you a nasty, terrible little secret. “I’d stick my tongue deep inside until you bled all over it…suck your clit until that pussy has no choice but to cum for me.” You’d probably be grossed out if this were any other situation—if this were anyone but Yuta—but his words have you whimpering and your walls clenching around his fingers as he thrusts them into you faster. You’re so wet that the slick sound of him pushing his fingers into you is echoing off the trees, and you can only hope he’s right about no one ever coming around here.

“I hope you prove i-it,” you gasp out, your words breaking off when he grinds his palm against your clit just so, and it’s enough to snap the tension in your abdomen.

Your body curls into his when you cum, waves of pleasure rocking you and making you unsteady enough that you have to lean on Yuta for balance. The way he kisses your neck gently—if a bit messily—only to leave a sharp bite after each touch of his lips heightens your pleasure, and you can’t help but moan unabashedly into the hot air of the forest. He doesn’t stop thrusting his fingers into you until you grasp his wrist and cry out his name, and then he’s pulling them out to suck your wetness off.

You look nothing short of a disaster when he’s done with you. Your dress and chest and half of your face stained with blood, your underwear lying around your ankles, your hand bloody and your nails caked with dried crimson. It will take a while to get that completely out from under your nails, you already know, and you’re not thrilled at the prospect of it. Your sunhat lies on the ground next to you, and you’re not even sure when it slipped off.

“...Okay. You’re done, for real this time? Go in my purse for me.”

Yuta does as you tell him. “You have wet wipes too?”

“You have to be prepared for anything in the wilderness,” you say, smelling the metallic scent of blood from your mouth as you speak and scrunching your nose. “And you know how you like to fuck whenever the mood strikes, so…easy cleanup.”

You and Yuta clean yourselves up as much as possible, which ends up in you using the entire small pack of wet wipes. There’s nothing you can do for the stains on your baby blue dress, and they’ll probably be too set in to fix once you return home. You roll your eyes, but you let Yuta pull you into him and lay an apologetic kiss on your lips, one of his hands grasping the curve of your ass. His cock is still stiff between your bodies, and you break the kiss to glance down.

“Do you want me to…?” you suggest, your fingers tracing over the bulge straining his zipper. He makes a sound in his throat that makes you think he wants more of your touch, but then he takes your hand and laces his fingers through yours.

“Later,” he says. “The only place I want to cum is inside you, but I think you’ve had enough of being messy for today.”

You get multiple strange and alarmed looks from other hikers when you get back to the main hiking path. You know it’s because of you walking around with bloodstains on your dress and a stupid smile on your face, but you ignore them all. 

[f1-giuki]

Ao3 Masterlist:

Hello readers *in James May's voice* and welcome to the masterlist of the fics I wrote/ I am writing! There are playlists and song recommendations for each fic!

I hope this post will be understandable and not too ugly!

1. A Sunday Kind of Love series: an ongoing series of fics set in the Emilia Romagna countryside, tons of fluff. They can be read alone. playlist.

1.1 Hearts of Gold : 9.4k words, summer fic. playlist. fic post.

Plot: One late afternoon in August Charles sat on a very pretty round bale, eating a slice of watermelon, white sunscreen on his face, cursing himself for having stained his last clean white t-shirt. He was having an unexpectedly good summer break, for someone with his bad luck (his fiat panda was holding on for dear life under the sun, much like his Ferrari F1-75, so this might be a stretch). To be honest, being on holiday in the Emilian countryside shouldn't have been his first choice of vacation, but he needed something different, something unusual that could take his mind off of racing for a while. But he needed a distraction, not a way to forget, so he chose to stay close to Maranello, his second home, but just in another province.

And something different he found indeed, someone rather than something. Someone with blue eyes and the constant need of sunscreen.

1.2 Moka Pot Mondays : 4k words, blurbs and slice of life. soundtrack.

Plot: The Italian countryside is the setting, Summer break the time and Lestappen are our main characters.

1.3 Cosa Sarà? : 9.2k words, end of summer break AU. playlist.

Plot: Charles sat on the side of the dry canal, in the field opposite to that which held his first kiss with Max. He would have sat with the Dutch in front of their field, but a tractor harvested it one afternoon and now only pointy golden thorns populated that lonely field. It felt like a prelude to a new chapter. Life goes on, like that song says.

And so Charles turned around and watched the alfalfa field and smelled the little purple flowers from a distance, complicit with the wind. The Monegasque was a nostalgic and a romantic person, the Regency era would have loved him dearly, and that field contained all the shades of the memories he held dear during his holiday. From the green of his old bike to the different shades of purples that tinted the fresh fruits he ate, passing from the blue of his lover's eyes.

That little field was going to be embroidered in his heart, like the hand on the small of his back, or the mischievous grin on Max's lips.

1.4 September : 8.5k words, set during the September European triple header. playlist.

Plot: August came to an end, some say sipped away like a bottle of wine, and with it ended the summer break. The Formula 1 season got back on track, for the last European races. This however didn't stop Max from tightly planning confessions, weird coming out moments and some unfortunately needed therapy sessions.

Luckily for him Charles Leclerc, his stubborn Charles, had other plans, such as casual homoerotic times in hotel rooms surrounded by fans, getaway cars to eat sandwiches and sheepish heart-eyes.

And maybe, with a lot of food, support from their stupid friends and some ABBA songs, maybe the two idiots will be able to finally say those three little gigantic words.

1.5 you're as beautiful as my home : 8.1k words, the fall and winter vibes are finally here friends, playlist.

Plot: The 2022 F1 season ended and Charles couldn’t stand the loneliness of his flat without Max or the flights to Italy inside grey clouds bringing rain around. So he decided to keep himself busy, having fun in Max's plane, causing the Formula One world to wonder if he could be a queer icon during podcast interviews and buying a house in Italy.

Max is right there by his side, befriending old people, providing perfectly timed songs, unwanted opinions about paint colours and homemade French fries and cakes, mostly enjoying the colourful chaos of Charles’s mind, with his cheeks red from Daniel’s teasing.

Or a set of stupidly romantic episodes starting from the 2022 Japanese GP

1.6 I would never take my eyes off of yours : 25.2k words, the April break au, playlist.

Plot: Max doesn’t exactly love spring. Well, we should say he doesn’t like certain aspects of it, like the insane amount of pollen flowing around in the air, next to bees, flies and all the other insects that exchange the blond mop of his hair for a flower bush.

What he loves about spring, though, is the warm sun, the spotless blue sky, cut only by the white traces of planes, and trees in full bloom. He also loves when Charles drags him to countryside festivals and dinners, when he composes new things on the piano, when Charles fights him after suggesting he should bleach his hair and especially when he gets on his knees.

Max should really change his mind about spring... 

2. Homeward Bound : 74.4k words, 12 chapters, completed, Magic/Urban Fantasy AU. each chapter has a playlist, c1, c2, c3, c4, c5, c6, c7, c8, c9, c10, c11, c12.

Plot: Max Verstappen liked many things, like playing the piano, jazz music, Star Wars (Mark Hamill, comrades, say no more), his new flat in New York City, Daniel's cuisine and Charles Leclerc, the cute ghost that flies in his living room. He didn't know if that made him a necrophile or something (Sebastian says it doesn't, it's just a confirmation of his being a bisexual disaster).

Max moved to New York to follow his dream of being a jazz pianist but he would have never imagined that such a transatlantic move would imply the discovery of a magical world he always lived in but always ignored. Or that he needed to fight people with an enchanted sword to stop the fucking Apocalypse and being able to date Charles, but yeah, another day in the New York City life.

3. The Sting series: what happens when top-tier Interpol detective Charles Leclerc and world-class thief Max Verstappen (or as he's known in the field: The Dutch Baron) cross paths?

3.1 You could hang it in the Louvre : 10k words, one shot, art theft AU. soundtrack + bonus. ficpost

Plot: Charles, a young Monegasque, is one of the top detectives for stolen artworks in the Interpol organisation and hates with a borderline homoerotic passion the Dutch Baron, an art thief who keeps on ruining his career plans.

Max, a young Dutch, is one of the most wanted thieves on the globe and Charles’s archnemesis. He’s kind of an idiot, hence the idiotic nickname he chose for himself after his first big heist, the Dutch Baron.

What happens when Max’s new and biggest heist goes let’s-say-not-exactly-well and Charles sees his face for the first time?

3.2 Late night devil, put your hands on me: art theft AU, 6 chapters, completed. soundtrack, fic post.

"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame.

"What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork.

"Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate.

"The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows.

Max grins and rolls his eyes.

"I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers.

or: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.

4. Red, White & Orange-Nassau : 54.9k words, 9 chapters completed, Royalty AU. fic post.

Plot: Diplomatic accidents don’t necessarily happen because of political feuds, sometimes they happen because a certain rockstar can’t shut his mouth at a royal wedding and the Crown Prince feels the need to obliterate his idiotic face, with those gentle green eyes and that stupid dark eyeshadow he always wears.

Said European crisis, as the New York Times put it, is more likely to happen if those in the room fighting are Charles Leclerc, frontman of rock band Moonlight, and Dutch Prince Max Emilian van Orange-Nassau Verstappen, the two eternal mediatic rivals.

But what if the fight ruins the short streak of good press the Dutch Royal Family got, what if suddenly the Dutch public opinion stopped liking Max, what if Charles’s reputation starts cracking too and with it his chances to win a Grammy?

What if this leads to a fake public truce and an equally fake friendship? Could this be the start of something at court or just the beginning of the end?

5. Fast and loose (and all that jazz) : 2.2k words, one shot, older sugar daddy Max, young sugar baby Charles.

plot: Max comes home from work and Charles, his sugar baby/young boyfriend, has a surprise waiting for him, a surprise made of red lace and dirty talk.

6. When I kissed the teacher (under the mistletoe) : 23.2k words, one shot, kid fic, uni professor Max, young dilf Charles. playlist, fic post.

plot: The Monegasque waits for a second before inhaling roughly and speaking.

"No, but I need two favours, actually, Professor," Charles says, keeping his head on the desk.

"Uhm, yeah?" Max asks, scratching his head.

"Could I call you Max just for my next question?" Charles asks.

"Uhm, a little unorthodox, but if it's relevant to your point, yes, you may, Charles," The Dutchman answers, his pitch raised just a bit.

Charles bangs his head against the desk once again, nearly cursing before speaking again.

"What I wanted, Jesus, sorry, what I wanted to ask you, Max, was if you'd like to go out, on a date, with me?" Charles asks and he doesn't dare look at Max to see his reaction.

7. If you'd have been there (if you'd have seen it) : 3k words, one shot, sugar daddy Max, sugar baby Charles. Christmas special! fic post.

plot: Max comes home after yet another problematic situation at work and Charles, his sugar baby/young boyfriend, has prepared a very kinky and tight Christmas gift for him.

8. Something to give each other : 6k words, two chapters, completed, lestappen rule 63, landoscar, friends to lovers. Valentine's special! fic post.

plot: "You know, you should just talk to her, Max, you’d be surprised how a conversation can solve things!” Oscar repeats for the fifteenth time that day. He’s chopping some tomatoes up for his famous tomato soup. 

Max huffs on the couch, sadly hugging her stupidly big IKEA bear. They named it Carlos, just because Lando thought the IKEA employee at the register was called Carlos and was hot.

“That's rich, coming from you, Mr I pretend to be straight instead of telling Lando I'm bi because then I fear he'll friendzone me intentionally!” Max points out.

9. Evil under the blossoms : 11.6k words, one shot, lestappen, florist Max, detective Charles, fluff. playlist, fic post.

plot: Max shows Charles the way to the plants lab. 

"That's where I think the robbery happened. These are the shelves where I keep the single flowers, this morning the tansies spot was empty. That is the greenhouse, but there are no missing plants in it. Then the rest of the lab here is a mixture of trees and different plants, the bushes that disappeared were there. I track in the register everything I sell, and I never miss a day, I'm-

"A plant nerd?" Charles jokes with a teasing smile. 

"A plant nerd, yeah..." Max answers blushing. 

or 

Max is a florist and one day flowers start disappearing for his shop. He calls Charles Leclerc, private investigator and childhood crush, to help him solve the case.

10. Prepare for trouble (and make it double!) : 19k words, 2/5 chapters, lestappen 1970s tennis au, interview format, playlist, fic post.

plot: The Davis Cup has always been the most important international tennis competition for national teams, but from 1970 to 1980 the tournament was renamed "International Cup" and moved on a continental-basis. For half of that decade, the European team was the team to beat.

These four iconic players, Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen, George Russell, Esteban Ocon, under the guidance of Austrian tennis legend Torger ‘Toto’ Wolff, wrote one of the most epic pages of global sport.

After all those years, they have no more qualms in revealing the secrets and the stories of their time in the funky and undisciplined Dream Team (alongside an incredible amount of gossip concerning Verstappen and Leclerc).

This interview tells their story and the story of the strongest tennis team in the world.

11. Brat Summer : 3.5k words, one shot, spideypool lestappen, deadpool max and spiderman charles, smut, playlist, fic post.

plot: “You mean to tell me that Sebastian Vettel, Iron Man, the guy who just saved the universe, was worried about me? And asked me to go on a mission with fucking Deadpool for my safety? I call bullshit!” Charles shrieks, nearly crying, the Avengers consider him a baby, he might as well behave like one.

12. First Impressions : 38.2k words, 3 chapters, completed, pride and prejudice lestappen au, girl!charles au, eventual smut, fic post.

plot: Miss Charles Leclerc, the daughter of a country gentleman, meets Mr Verstappen, a rich gentleman who owns land, at a ball in a nearby town.

At first, Charles is resolved to hate him, thinking him proud and full of prejudices against the people of her rank, but, as her life erupts in is various turmoils, her feelings start to change.

13: I was in your wet dream (driving in my car) series: Oscar and his ever growing harem of sexy men and kinky sex tales.

13.1. Dripping wet : 5.8k words, one shot, maxoscar, misuse of grindr, pwp, fic post.

plot: Oscar's bathroom sink is leaking and he needs a flathead screwdriver to fix it. Luckily for him he found a nice makeshift plumber on Grindr under the name of 'Max'.

13.2. Wanna know what I got goin' on down there? : 4.7k words, one shot, maxoscar, pwp, Max has a dick piercing, playlist, fic post.

plot: "He got it, Lando," Oscar says, blushing and making a face.

"What? Motherfucker disease?" Lando asks, raising an eyebrow.

“A piercing...” Oscar tries to explain, taking a steadying breath. This is the moment where Lando will call Carlos to ask for the number of a good exorcist.

“Max has several of those, Oscar, be more specific,” Lando complains.

"He got it there..." Oscar whispers, turning around, as if afraid of someone listening to him, making Lando's face light up with laughter.

13.3. Are you thinkin' 'bout me? (I'm kinda thinkin' you are) : 4.4k words, one shot, lestapstri threesome, pwp, Max gets a tongue piercing, fic post.

plot: Charles Leclerc is in his hotel room, sending him borderline erotic pictures of his boyfriend. He didn’t know his dirtiest fantasy was just waiting for him in his hotel room.

14. you're always there (so don't overthink): oscar piastri/jannik sinner, one shot, fluff, meet cute, barista!Oscar, introvert x introvert, playlist, osctober day 16! ficpost!

plot: “Sweet potato pie, the base is made with protein-rich chocolate cookies and evo oil, the filling with the potatoes, hazelnut milk and potato starch, all homemade by Lando. Complex carbs are good for recovery after training,” Oscar says, standing in front of Jannik with a little plate with a beautiful orange slice of pie.

Jannik looks at him astounded, with probably a milk moustache and his eyes too wide and comically soft. Neither of them speaks, or moves, for a second, before he comes to his senses and thanks Oscar blushing. Oscar passes him the plate and their fingers touch.

Jannik feels a bit silly and very much lovestruck.

15. Prompts : tell me a song you love at the moment, an f1 pairing you like (whatever pairing!!!), and if you want fluff, smut or angst and I'll write you a blurb inspired by the song!!

[twistedshipper]

"Arthur doesn't know how it begins"

Of the wips I mentioned, this one is the one without a proper title (it's just saved as the first line I wrote) and the one that is literally just straight up porn without (much) plot inspired from the fic, Critical Period, and Ethel Cain's song 'Inbred.'

I started it, I believe, in the late fall of 2022 when the idea struck me, except never found the inspiration to finish it (mainly because I don't think I'm skilled enough as a writer to pull the idea off).

The fic is from Arthur's perspective and follows him over the years as he develops a rather perverse obsession with his elder (by a couple years) sister Morgana, whom is sequestered to her chambers day in and out for a strange mental affliction that Arthur overhears the court physician name to their father hysteria.

Over the years, Gaius treats Morgana with many potions and sedatives to aid her sleep and it's in these moments when Morgana is knocked out cold that Arthur observes her in her room to placate the need that her writhing body stirs in him.

That's basically it. I'll leave a snippet down below from the beginning of it:

Arthur does not know how it begins, per se, only how it ends with him doing everything in his power to stop the need, placate the wanting, even as it tears through him from the inside out, rendering him inept in what is a rather base act. 

There was always something so alluring, so provocative about his sister, Morgana.

Ever since he was little, he recalled the visits the Court Physician gave her at the request of their father, that she be seen too for an odd peculiarity, something he had once overheard as he crouched outside the doors to the nursery they shared, trying his best to be invisible, that was spoken of as an illness of her mind. 

He did not know what this in truth meant, only that she struggled with her sleep, tossing and turning in their children’s bed, her limbs twisted, back arched, a wail escaping her lips.  He remembered waking, startled, beside her from such nights and it was not long before his father arranged for him to have a room of his own away from her side.

Though he had been scared of her in those few moments he witnessed her twisted-up body, so lithe and contorted in the wrapped sheets, he had still felt a curiosity for her condition, which only grew to what could only be described as perverse with time.

He had been a boy of seven then, Morgana a week shy of turning nine.

Thanks for asking me to share about this fic. Maybe, I'll get around to finishing it someday. @the-king-and-the-druidess also asked me about this fic, and I think, Kristya, this fic was also a result of me trying to write from Arthur's perspective (after our conversation about dark!Arthur) for a change as opposed to Morgana, as in SL I write most of the scenes from her perspective when it comes to her unnatural feelings for Arthur.

[midwinterrmemento]

Belonging

➢ pairing: Isaac x GN!Reader [Ikemen Vampire]

➢ prompt: Winter Comforts

➢ word count: 1,610

⚠️ content warnings: None!

It’s a little bit late, but this is my entry for @scummy-writes​’s Isaac Week 2022! I wanted to make sure I wrote something for him this year because Isaac is my favorite character across all the Ikemen games and he deserves to know he’s loved, so I’m glad for the opportunity to spoil him a little :)

“Watch out!”

At the sound of Napoleon’s voice, Isaac, who was knelt down to guide a young student through a set of equations, looked up in alarm—and found that he was about to be on the receiving end of a snowball to the head.

“Gods—?!”

Thanks to his vampiric reflexes, he managed to leap out of the way just in time, tumbling backwards into the snow in the process. The snowball whizzed past and hit the wall behind him with a thwack. He stared at the spot it had struck, wide eyes blinking rapidly, as familiar shrieks of laughter filled the air.

Since it was pretty mild for a day in December, it had been Napoleon’s idea to hold lessons outside at their little neighborhood école as usual. It was shaping up to be a snowy winter, and they had already lost out on several days with the children because of bad weather. As much as he wanted to rectify that, however, Isaac had been a little unsure about the idea. After all, it was still snowing and, even if the children turned up, there was no guarantee they’d be in the mood to study. They might even get sick, being outside in the cold. He only ended up going in the end because Napoleon convinced him it would be fine.

Now, as he laid on his back in the snow, surrounded by laughing children after having narrowly dodged a snowball that might as well have been a bullet, Isaac had to question his decision to trust him.

As he turned around bewilderedly, it didn’t take long to find the culprits—a group of giggling children who were scurrying to hide behind Napoleon’s legs. While he was scolding them gently, something about the sheepish grin on his face made Isaac suspect that his fellow teacher wasn’t completely innocent in the matter himself.

“Sorry, Isaac. Seems we got a bit carried away,” Napoleon chuckled, shooing the kids out from behind him. As he walked over to offer his hand, the children’s attention followed him all the while, and Isaac felt his cheeks burning as Napoleon helped him up. He brushed the snow off his coat, trying to distract himself from the expectant stares of his students.

“I-I take it you finished your lesson early, then.”

Napoleon shrugged, gesturing at the snow falling around them. “Must be the spirit of the season. The children couldn’t focus today, they’re so excited about the holidays. I figured there wouldn’t be any harm in indulging them, letting them have a little fun.” His grin stretched across his face. “In my defense, I wasn’t expecting there to be casualties.”

At the wave of giggles that rose from the children at that, Isaac reddened, pointing out, “Well… it didn’t actually hit me, you know…”

“That’s a relief, then. You hear that, Gav?”

“Hmm?”

Napoleon glanced over his shoulder, and Isaac followed his gaze to find that Gavroche was still lingering behind him, wearing an expression that was riddled with guilt. What—oh.

“I’m sorry, Isaac!” The boy was suddenly apologizing earnestly. “I wasn’t aiming for you!”

“Oh, that’s—I don’t—”

“I didn’t mean it, honestly!”

“I-I know!” Isaac cleared his throat, trying to find the right words to reassure him. “You didn’t do it on purpose, I know. Really, it’s all right. It didn’t hit me.”

“What didn’t hit you?”

At the sound of your voice behind him, Isaac startled. He turned to find you approaching them, looking curious and a little concerned. You were holding a large canister in one hand, but before he could even ask about it or answer your question, it seemed that the entire école was suddenly running over to greet you. Excited shouts of your name filled the winter air as they swarmed you, the snowball incident apparently long forgotten already.

Isaac breathed a sigh of relief as he was no longer the center of attention, watching instead as you laughed in surprise at being swept away by the children. You shot him an apologetic smile, silently asking him to hang on for a moment. Isaac returned the gesture so as to tell you that he had received the message loud and clear.

“I told you something like this would happen,” he muttered to Napoleon, though his eyes remained focused on you. “Kids get so excitable around Christmas.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the knowing grin that appeared on Napoleon’s face. Isaac coughed awkwardly, turning to face him. “What is it?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But there’s something you want to say, isn’t there?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

Napoleon nodded in your direction, as you were kneeling down to the children’s height and trying to open the canister as gracefully as possible with gloved hands. Isaac waited a moment for him to continue speaking, but Napoleon nodded at you again, more emphatically this time.

The moment Isaac turned back to look at you, he understood perfectly why Napoleon didn’t feel the need to say anything else—the sight spoke for itself.

As the lid of the canteen finally popped off, both you and the children let out a triumphant shout which, in the children’s case, quickly turned into joy upon realizing what was inside. As cold as the day had been, Isaac couldn’t help but feel warm, seeing the sweet smile on your face as you distributed portions of hot chocolate to the students, scolding them with a laugh for being impatient. He noticed the way they clung to your side, glad that they’d grown to trust and accept you as much as Napoleon and himself.

He stiffened, struck by that realization as you beckoned for the both of them to join you.

“Well, I don’t know about you,” Napoleon said breezily, with a pat on Isaac’s shoulder, “but I could use some chocolate right about now.”

Isaac stayed behind for a moment just to take in the scene. The children’s laughter of protest rang in the air as Napoleon cut in line, claiming it was his right as the teacher. Evidently eager to get back to their snowball fight, some of them went running off with their cups as soon as you handed them over. Napoleon called out warningly for them to slow down and be careful, and you smiled as they turned back to wave at you.

And then, it was his turn.

“Isaac, come play with us!”

“Yeah!”

There were several cheers of agreement, and Isaac stuttered as one of the kids even grabbed his hand and attempted to pull him along. “N-Now, wait a minute...” As he saw the excitement on their faces, however, he couldn’t stop himself from huffing a soft laugh, at the same time exasperated, flustered, and amused. “I… I don’t think it would be a good idea, but I’ll watch you.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

That seemed to satisfy them, and the students scurried back off to their snowy battlefield, Napoleon in tow to keep an eye on them. While Isaac had never been one for snowball fights, he supposed he could understand the appeal when said snowball fight was led by one of history’s most renowned generals. 

He shook his head, chuckling—and then nearly jumped out of his own skin when he suddenly felt someone tap his shoulder.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Ah... but at the familiar sound of your voice, all of his nerves melted away. He turned around to find you with a cup in each hand, holding one out to him. “For you and me.”

“Thank you.” He gratefully took the cup, allowing it to warm his hands through his gloves. “Cheers?”

The smile that appeared on your face as your cups clinked together made him smile, too. He wrapped his free arm around your shoulders then, drawing you close to him. It was an uncharacteristically bold display of affection for him, and you looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. As though he was only now realizing what he’d done, a twinge of embarrassment flickered on his face, but he still didn’t move away.

“It’s cold out,” he said simply, hoping you’d accept that explanation and let it drop.

“Your cheeks are turning red.”

“...It’s cold out.”

You laughed and cozied into his side, and Isaac surprised even himself by reflexively melting into your touch. At the same time, one of the students called out to him again to make sure he was watching as the snowball fight resumed. An unusual feeling of warmth washed over him.

It wasn’t just his more outgoing counterpart that brought students to the school, he’d realized. Those who had come here today even despite the weather were here for him as much as Napoleon. He was surrounded now by students who loved to see him, who focused on his lectures and hung onto his every word, who wanted him to share in their fun. He now had a friend who would help him up when he fell, a loving partner who would surprise him with a visit and bring him a hot drink to make sure he was warm, and a home waiting for him at the end of the day. He didn’t have to prove his place here—for the first time in all his years being alive, Isaac realized he truly felt at ease with the people around him.

You nudged his side then, snapping him out of his thoughts. “So, what did I miss? Something almost hit you?”

“Hm? Oh, yes... a poorly aimed snowball. But it’s all right.” Isaac looked down at you, gentle pink eyes glowing with adoration. “Everything is all right now.” 

[skellagirl]

I am, as usual, late lol, but Y'KNOW. This is gonna be a long, rambly post lol, sorry, I have a lot of thoughts.

2023 was a weird year for me, artwise. When it began I was still deep in my Art Block From Hell, which had begun in mid-2021 and lasted the entirety of 2022.

Being in the thick of such a ridiculously suffocating art block, for TWO AND A HALF YEARS, is like... I can't describe how fucking life-draining it is. It felt like something was fundamentally wrong with me -- like a part of me, which used to be as effortless as breathing or blinking my eyes, had ceased to function altogether. It wasn't just a regular art block, it was a complete identity crisis. I could no longer trust the instincts I'd honed over twenty-plus years, could no longer trust my sense of observation or my ability to recreate what I saw. I felt BROKEN, and every single time I picked up my tablet pen it was like I was scraping my insides with a spoon, trying to pick up whatever tiny dregs of dried-up, crusty shit I could manage to puke up onto my canvas. It was fucking painful and humiliating and completely demoralizing.

I'm not really sure what finally got me to do so, but sometime in summer (my memory is shit lol) I downloaded Game Maker, found a video tutorial on youtube, and just... gave myself over to it. I made myself learn how to use Aseprite, and working with pixels, making teeny-tiny little sprites, forced me to work in ways I usually don't. It was a lot harder for me to find the flaws in my art when my art was thirty-five pixels tall and the anatomy was stylized to communicate clear information rather than be a recreation or approximation of reality. I think I really do credit that time working on game dev as the thing that finally cracked loose all the gunk that was keeping me stuck -- I could not perpetuate the cycle of toxicity I'd fallen into because I could barely even conceptualize what 'good' or 'bad' pixel art even looked like lol. I just knew that I was making art, and for the first time in two years, it didn't feel like I was having to desperately beg the emaciated husks of my sense of self-worth and confidence to cooperate while doing so.

(I actually sort of abandoned my foray into game dev around August/September lol, as my adhd-brain, flitting around like a little hummingbird to every dopamine-rich-flower, is wont to do 🥲 But I wanna get back into it at some point!)

From there I had a rush of inspiration for an original project I've been mulling around in my head for years, and I wrote thousands of words in my worldbuilding document, made a map, developed the shell of a possible actual STORY. I returned to sketching. Conventional sketching. It was, at first, largely still comprised of that same demotivating struggle against myself, but I was so deep in the throes of inspiration (after several years of this project laying dormant in my google drive) that I NEEDED to sketch. So I kept going. And after a while, it got....... easier. And I started hating everything I made a little less. I painted, properly, for the first time in years. I stayed up late into the night, even if it meant I would be tired at work the next day, because drawing felt so damn GOOD again and I had missed that feeling so much. All I wanted to do was draw. For the first time in two and a half years, I could finally see the light at the end of the fucking tunnel.

I still don't think I'm quite out of the woods yet. My style is changing, as all artists' styles do over time, and that comes with stumbling adjustments. My confidence is still small and shaky and recovering; I still catch myself second-guessing what I've drawn, and even looking at some of the things here on my grid makes me cringe a little bit for one reason or another.

But compared to both 2021 and 2022, the volume of art, and in particular the volume of art I don't actively despise, is WAY higher, and I'm really really hopeful that that means I'm finding my footing again.

So! Here's to 2024, and to continuing to move towards the light at the end of the tunnel 🙏🌟 I'm gonna try.

[magicalmischel]

Hiiii!! For the WIP game: please tell me about Layers of Dusk and also obviously Suddenly Flames Everywhere 👀👀 And also the trans!Merlin fic if you're up for it because I know you've been working on that one lately and I'm VERY curious about it 👀👀👀😘

hiiii! 💖 thanks for asking about all of them!! 😂💖 I'll give you the summaries and snippets!

Layers of Dusk

this one is so "old" that I even made a fic cover for it to post on fanfiction.net but obviously that never happened 😂 also my draft included very bad fanart so maybe when i get back to this wip I could make better art now that I have more practice <3

summary:

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Arthur is dying and Merlin is left with no choice but to take his soul into his body and hope that they both last long enough to perform a necromancy spell. This requires sacrifices, and Merlin will have to learn that sometimes, going too far is not worth it.

I remember I stopped bc I got stuck on a scene with Gaius (or was it Gwen??) one day and I just never continued. I also wasn't sure about the fic's message, bc I felt like it should have a sad ending so that Merlin learns a lesson but also at the same time I really wanted to write a happy ending and I just didn't know what to do basically 😂

snippet:

“O drakon! E male so ftengometta! Tesd’hup’anankes!” The words echo through the silent woods and through Merlin’s mind like a steady, painful reminder of what had happened. He keeps holding onto Arthur -- both his body and his consciousness -- and he finds himself almost unaware of his surroundings, as if trapped in a daze of realization that he was indeed holding Arthur’s dead body. He didn’t dare look down at him. He couldn’t. But he took Arthur’s hand and entwined their fingers, willing himself to believe that the dragon would have a solution. Something difficult, no doubt, but very possible that would fix all this. Merlin didn’t care about the consequences. Oh god. Oh. Arthur’s hand was cold.

oh look a classic case of switching tenses halfway through a scene lmao

Suddenly Flames Everywhere

ajksfljals this fic 😭 the idea was born in summer of 2022, and I wrote the first scene then. Then it lay forgotten until I picked it up for acbb 2023 and I spent the entire summer working on it every single day, I wrote the first draft in a month, then started rewriting the whole thing and that's where I got stuck ;-; I'm "working" now on scene 18 out of 33, so I'm around in the middle of it.

summary:

It all starts with a deal. Arthur will capture the last of the dragons, and in exchange, Uther will give him more time to search for his soulmate. He won’t have to marry princess Elena when she arrives in a few days. Little does Arthur know that the dragon he shoots down is actually a young dragon-man called Merlin, and more importantly — his soulmate. It only gets more complicated from there.

and a snippet:

Only it wasn’t a dragon at all. It looked like a man. Arthur’s eyes widened, his grip on the crossbow faltering. The creature had two large, featherless, dark grey wings, and a long tail. No doubt that it wasn’t human. But it also had a human head. And human hair. Human legs, arms, even human clothes. “That’s no dragon,” he hissed. “It’s Dragonfolk,” Sir Kay whispered back, his crossbow still aimed firmly upwards. “They serve the dragons. Live like animals in small groups. Just as dangerous as the foul beasts themselves, I assure you.”

trans!merlin fic

yep this is the one I'm working on now 💖 Honestly it wasn't going to be published at first, I just had a dream where I was trans!merlin three months ago and woke up inspired and bc I was in the middle of a writer's block, I was very excited about it and wrote the whole first draft in one day. Then I forgot about it for several weeks, then I edited it, hated it, left it alone again, and I re-edited it about three weeks ago and decided I should maybe try to post it, so I reached out and found a few sensitivity readers who gave me some notes and now I'm adding scenes and editing the whole thing again 💖

it doesn't really have a big plot or anything unlike my other wips, the summary basically is just this:

In the medieval world where there are no lgbt resources or language to talk about lgbt topics, this fic depicts Merlin’s journey from realising he’s trans, to coming out to Arthur, and transitioning with the help of magic.

not gonna provide a snippet for this one just yet, but hopefully it should be posted within like . . . a month or two? Depending on how much I procrastinate lmao

thanks so much for asking again! 🥰 and sorry for replying with so much text, you know I talk a lot 😂

[caltropspress]

RAPS + CRAFTS #30: blackchai

1. Introduce yourself. Past projects? Current projects?

Ayoo, I go by the name of blackchai, preferably stylized in all lowercase. I started out rapping under the name JinSol, but I think I scrubbed 98% of that shit off the internet. I’m based in Brooklyn, but I grew up a little outside NYC in Putnam County. I’ve been releasing as blackchai since either late 2019 or early 2020 - I forget exactly. I put out my first EP titled No Expectation in August 2020. My first full length titled Time & A Place came out April 2022, followed by 2 EPs A Momentary Lapse in October 2022, and SECOND WIND produced entirely by my good friend/collaborator, a haunted house, in January 2023. My most recent release as of right now is my album Year Wandering which released March 2024. My next album OTHERWISE A BLUR is set to release September 6th and that is fully produced by August Fanon, who has also been a friend of mine since before we even started making music together.

2. Where do you write? Do you have a routine time you write? Do you discipline yourself, or just let the words come when they will? Do you typically write on a daily basis?

I find it easiest to write in the comfort of my bedroom. I work best in solitude. Over the years I have usually written the majority of my stuff late at night, but lately I’ve found I have better ideas in the morning before the day has a chance to influence my mind state. 

I’m a notoriously slow writer as in I can probably count on less than two hands how many verses I’ve written in a single sitting, but lately I’ve been trying to push myself to write faster without second guessing myself or losing my attention span, and it’s been working somewhat.

I find that I kind of go back and forth with how disciplined I am in terms of writing every day, but I prefer to always be in a constant state of having “something” that I’m working on, even if I don’t make daily progress. The only time I don’t have an unfinished verse on my plate is if I’m doing an album rollout or in the mixing process or something like that. Not being in the middle of some kind of creative process gives me really bad anxiety.

3. What’s your medium—pen and paper, laptop, on your phone? Or do you compose a verse in your head and keep it there until it’s time to record?

When I started rapping it was all pen and paper, but I have horrible handwriting as well as horrible eyesight so it’s been strictly Notes app for the past few years. There are some things I’ve done in my head and wrote down later, but usually like 4-8 bars. Nothing crazy. My short term memory is unfortunately very compromised at this point in my weed smoking career.

4. Do you write in bars, or is it more disorganized than that?

I kind of write in spaced out lines depending on how connected each phrase is to the previous one. I use a lot of my own shorthand to signify pauses and things like that, but sometimes I don’t really solidify the way I’m going to rap the verse until I’m actually recording. It’s a lot easier to rap without breathing when reciting under your breath than when trying to project into a mic. When I started, I would just write in a big paragraph, but I kept losing my place. I used to be able to memorize my verses before recording. but my style has developed into a very stream-of-consciousness word soup sort of thing, so now I don’t usually have anything locked in until after it’s recorded.

5. How long into writing a verse or a song do you know it’s not working out the way you had in mind? Do you trash the material forever, or do you keep the discarded material to be reworked later?

If it doesn’t start out strong, typically I’ll scrap it and start over. Either that or if I write like half a verse then don’t come back to it until days later I can’t pick up the same energy and struggle trying to actually end the thing and it just goes on for way too long and feels redundant. I am a big believer in recycling lines for future use. Sometimes it’ll just be one phrase that I know I need to be a part of a verse. I just need the right beat or placement or whatever. But very rarely do I ever fully delete something. There's always some gold nuggets in a subpar verse.

6. Have you engaged with any other type of writing, whether presently or in the past? Fiction? Poetry? Playwriting? If so, how has that mode influenced your songwriting?

So my first girlfriend in high school was a writer. She was writing a novel when we were like fifteen. I’ve always admired people who can write in more traditional structures, but I just don’t possess that skill set. I never knew how to write essays that sounded natural in English class. I always felt like I couldn’t break away from that rigid template they give you when you’re in elementary school. That’s why I really like writing raps. I get to be a writer without having to care about the rules. As a rapper, you can fully disregard grammar, you can make words up, etc. I learned all that studying people like Ghostface Killah and Vordul Mega. But growing up I was definitely reading earlier than a lot of kids my age, and as an adult I really appreciate people like Cormac McCarthy and Tolkien and people like that. They write so descriptively it’s amazing, and I try to take some influence from that in the way I write raps.

7. How much editing do you do after initially writing a verse/song? Do you labor over verses, working on them over a long period of time, or do you start and finish a piece in a quick burst?

I don’t necessarily labor but definitely the past few years as I’ve been taking this more seriously I’ve put in extra effort to edit my lyrics. Especially because my flow is in such weird pockets sometimes, I have to be really specific about how I say some things so I don’t get lost in the beat. Anything from rearranging bars to fully rewriting some things.

8. Do you write to a beat, or do you adjust and tweak lyrics to fit a beat?

Most of the time I write to a beat. Sometimes I’ll have a few lyrics in my head that I think of while walking, taking the train, etc. Recently I’ve been writing one verse while switching between beats. It helps when I start to feel like I’m losing momentum. The beat usually tells you what it wants and sometimes my ideas clash with that, so it takes some searching to finesse the formula. Sometimes I’ll have an old verse I never did anything with and I’ll get a new beat and it just fits perfectly. But I don’t do it in the same way Talib Kweli apparently used to do. I'm not tryna rap super fast and sound crazy just to get a verse off.

9. What dictates the direction of your lyrics? Are you led by an idea or topic you have in mind beforehand? Is it stream-of-consciousness? Is what you come up with determined by the constraint of the rhymes?

I don’t typically write songs about any singular thing. Sometimes it’s a general vibe and I’ll address multiple things that kind of fit that idea even if they’re not directly related, and sometimes I’m just rapping and making references to anime and things I think are cool. I try not to let it get too jarring content-wise, but at the same time I’m a self-proclaimed student of Ghostface, so I don’t care too much if people don’t get it. I’ve definitely been told I’m very stream-of-consciousness by multiple people. I’d say in general the average blackchai song has sprinkles of Marxism, anime references, interpolations of 90s rap lyrics, and just general ruminations on the way I navigate through life and things I observe on a daily basis. And then all the blank spaces are filled with slang or just general “talking my shit” rapper guy stuff. Nothing too crazy. But I definitely do want to put in the effort in the future to write more concentrated songs. I don’t want to be a one trick pony, especially now that I’m getting more optics as an artist.

10. Do you like to experiment with different forms and rhyme schemes, or do you keep your bars free and flexible?

I go through phases. I think the thing that comes most naturally to me is flow, so that is usually the thing I like to experiment with the most. I’ve been in a very rapid fire kind of bag for a minute, which is a lot of fun. I did a lot of features just rapping super fast this past year. I also am a big fan of writing non-rhymes or ending bars with words that don’t rhyme. I know a lot of people, mostly older heads, hate that style these days along with the drumless beats and all that, but it’s where I feel I shine the most and can be the most creative. I rap mostly over loops, so there’s less constraints with the way I can actually land my rhymes and everything. But like I said before, the beat usually tells me what it needs. Lyrics are the tougher part for me.

11. What’s a verse you’re particularly proud of, one where you met the vision for what you desire to do with your lyrics?

One of the bonus tracks off Year Wandering titled “All For The Win." The album itself was largely inspired by the manga Vagabond and the themes explored in that and the song kind of encapsulates that. There’s a throughline that I repeat that goes “From preoccupied with the leaves to invincible under the sun,” which is nearly a direct quote from the manga and basically the whole theme of Musashi Miyamoto's character journey as well as my own kind of declaration of artistic growth. Where I’ve been and where I want to be. Reflecting upon being some kid writing horrible rhymes in my mom's living room to working with people I’ve been a fan of for years and having people tell me I’m their favorite rapper. I just think this is the best example of me mixing contemplative ideas right next to my usual brand of non-sequitur lyricism. Plus a really dope reference to Cannibal Ox that is just so much fun to rap on stage.

The usual intent’s not a spectacle the proof’s in the outcome I’m counting flaws to strike a healthy balance From preoccupied with the leaves to invincible under the sun Contemplating parts of myself that’s hard to face Placating the anger that’s building up from day to day Made a wish, made a plan  Sometimes it’s an aim and a miss but gained an understanding regardless My heart’s a big lender Depart with less than what I need to fill the chest up Blades drawn like a breath  Duress often but can’t halt the flesh  It’s the best of times Measure my regrets next to gratitude it’s too many hard questions Not enough in mind to concentrate Binded by fate with my brothers  Keep it in conversation Fuck a wait list I hate wasting time more than most things in my peripheral  Direct line of sight manifesting pictures from a past life Tryna simply grab it, inhabit the space I’m happy to play a part pondering til the dark divide Niggas is wildin’ I think you better find yourself - before you get ejected from the deep end My shell monumental mechanical found ghost Effortless like a cold reservoir of blood in the vessel Known unknowns  It’s the presence of ancestors weaponizing the mental Head in the sky Treasure refinement  It’s no sweat  Don’t hold me on shit I never said that’s my only lesson to give at the moment Pay attention Unsteady on the way in the present’s a testament to resolve My whole body and soul get the message Surrender control? Probably not It’s dark and Hell is hot as the block in the dead of winter Sounds like a personal problem you probably deserve it dawg Don’t make me call it off it’s all for the win You probably deserve it dawg Usual intent’s not a spectacle the proof’s in the outcome I’m counting flaws to strike a healthy balance From preoccupied with the leaves to invincible under the sun

12. Can you pick a favorite bar of yours and describe the genesis of it?

Off the song “Feed The Land” from Year Wandering:

High risk high reward Formula been tired no time to react $30 til the next check what we scrambling? Don’t take it for granted like God gave up the answers Feed The Land

I really like this one because it’s one of the more straightforward things I’ve ever written. I was literally in my kitchen making an egg scramble of random things in my fridge because I was broke and couldn’t afford to buy food until my next check. Very simple but I remember every detail and it was just a very real relatable thing. Nothing esoteric about it, just struggle turned into art.

13. Do you feel strongly one way or another about punch-ins? Will you whittle a bar down in order to account for breath control, or are you comfortable punching-in so you don’t have to sacrifice any words?

I don’t do them personally, mostly just because I usually record by myself and it’s annoying to do. But I don’t have an issue with them as a stylistic choice. There’s plenty of punch-ins on like Only Built 4 Cuba Linx, Ironman, Funcrusher Plus, etc. I like to be able to actually rap my own stuff live though. I hate the whole “live show karaoke” thing. Especially in the underground scene. Maybe I’d do them if I had a hypeman or something.

14. What non-hiphop material do you turn to for inspiration? What non-music has influenced your work recently?

I mentioned before I like to interpolate lyrics from a lot of 90s rap, but I do this tenfold with rock music. I played guitar before I started rapping and played in a few bands, so I am super pretentious about indie rock/emo/punk etc. I really don’t listen to a lot of rap when I’m writing. At least not a large variety. I’ll usually hyperfixate on one or two rap albums at a time when creating because I don’t want to be influenced too much in that way, but I’ll bump a huge variety of guitar music. 

Like when I was writing Time & A Place the only rap album I was listening to was OB4CL, but I was also listening to a ton of Jawbreaker, Cloud Nothings, Rilo Kiley, Mannequin Pussy, and this Japanese band Number Girl. And when I was writing OTHERWISE A BLUR the only rap I was listening to was like 2016-2017 Mach-Hommy, but I spent most days listening to Interpol and these random obscure indie bands with like 200 Spotify listeners. 

I’m also in the middle of reading Blood Meridian. Other than that, my main non-music inspirations/influences are just whatever shows I’m watching. I watch The Sopranos about four times a year, so that's a permanent fixture and source of reference. I just rewatched YuYu Hakusho. And then whatever communist/leftist literature I’ve read will pop up now and again. Obviously some Marxist stuff, Kwame Ture, Malcolm X, Huey Newton, etc. but I wouldn’t call myself a thoroughly read or educated person in that regard.

15. Writers are often saddled with self-doubt. Do you struggle to like your own shit, or does it all sound dope to you?

I didn’t like anything about my own music until like my last two projects, for the most part. I hated my voice. I took a long time getting comfortable on the mic. Things like that. But I feel like I’ve really started to feel and sound like the artist I’ve always wanted to be. Going back to my older stuff, now I see the merit in it, but at the time I hated almost everything I put out by the time I put it out. I really love this next album I’m about to drop though. I also made it in a significantly shorter timeframe than anything else I’ve done, so I haven’t had the chance to grow to hate it.

16. Who’s a rapper you listen to with such a distinguishable style that you need to resist the urge to imitate them?

Definitely billy woods and E L U C I D. I’m a huge fan, and they both have definitely influenced me a ton, but sometimes I stop myself from listening to Armand Hammer while I’m making stuff. Especially while making this record with August Fanon - haha. Aside from them, I’d say a lot of people in the scene in New York right now. Like people I see at shows and know personally. Like it’s one thing to subconsciously bite a rapper that you know from a distance, but when it comes to people who are closer to your level or whatever, you want to kind of maintain a sense of friendly competition. I like the idea of everyone having their own style. It’s like super powers. Spider-Man and Human Torch are homies, but they can’t do what the other does.

17. Do you have an agenda as an artist? Are there overarching concerns you want to communicate to the listener?

When I was a child I think the first thing I ever wanted for my future was to be an artist. I don’t even know why or what kind of artist I wanted to be. I just liked things like that. I also wanted to be a ninja. Presently, I just want to make a mark and be a part of rap-lore. When I started rapping, one of the more formative influences for me was The Juggaknots but I’ve never met anybody outside of hardcore rap nerds who even know who they are, but Breeze is like the best rapper ever. If I can do that for some kid 20 years from now, that’d be crazy. 

Obviously the deeper I get into this and the more things I accomplish that I never thought possible there will be more things I strive to achieve, but my initial goal was just to be a dope rapper who other rappers think is dope and just do cool shit because I can put words together in a cool and interesting way. And I kind of feel like I finally opened the door for that possibility. I can’t go to a show in New York without running into someone I know through music. I’ve even been recognized by strangers a couple times in the crowd of billy woods shows and stuff, which is really insane, and kind of weird.

There’s messages and beliefs I have that I put into my music, but I was never someone who wanted to make political music or anything like that. It’s a good gateway, but I’m not a professor. You can learn a lot more about revolutionary politics by reading books than from listening to Public Enemy, but a lot of people probably didn’t even form an interest in black leftist politics until Chuck D screamed into their ear about the Black Panthers. I suffer from really bad depression and anxiety. I wouldn’t feel comfortable counseling someone on their own mental health issues, but maybe my music might inspire someone to take action for themselves. Just having a positive tangible effect on people is really all you can hope for.

RAPS + CRAFTS is a series of questions posed to rappers about their craft and process. It is designed to give respect and credit to their engagement with the art of songwriting. The format is inspired, in part, by Rob McLennan’s 12 or 20 interview series.

Photo credit: E. Fortson

[biscdraws]

Just realised I never uploaded my 2023 art summary here…better late than never. I don’t know if I improved from 2022 at all but I guarantee that my 2024 summary will also be bobcut nation.

In April I was busy and also in Japan for half of it so didn’t have time to draw anything except the 10 second Cygnus doodle from my order form for the Cygnus drink at Bar Masaya.

And since I never posted that on tumblr I’ll post that too cos it’s cute:

Bar Masaya is one of now many such bars that make ‘image cocktails(/mocktails)’ based on a character or even a ship - including OCs! You get an order sheet to write about the character - what they look like, their image colours and motifs, what their personality is like and what you like about them - and the talented bartender will create a drink based on that - using not just the flavours and appearance of the ingredients but even the shape and size of the glass. You can also choose the level of alcohol and any flavours you don’t want. If you have decent Japanese writing (for the order sheet)and listening comprehension (for the bartender’s explanation of the drink) skills, (or a friend who can translate) I really recommend it. Ever since I found out about it a few years back I’ve wanted to know what the Cygnus drink would be, and I finally got to find out!

What I wrote was kinda a convoluted mess (I should have prepared it in advance, to be honest), but here is the Cygnus drink. I don’t drink so I went for a mocktail, and this is the description the bartender gave me based on my order sheet, as best as I remember: The glass is small but elegant, and the stirring rod (feather shaped, to reference his swan motif) stands up proudly. There’s a bitter grapefruit base to reference his difficult personality, with the fancy blue colouring that is lighter towards the top. At the bottom there is a deep, dark violet - this represents how lonely he actually is, and it’s where all the sweetness is hidden. Throughout the whole drink there’s also a lemon kick to reference the gap between the haughty front he puts on and that loneliness.

I’m not a big grapefruit fan (I actually meant to put it as a flavour I don’t want, but I forgot), but the added sweetness really helped and it was a nice drink overall and I’m impressed they got something fitting out of my word vomit. Next time I definitely want to try Dominic.

The little standee I ordered off pixiv factory a bit before this.

[squarebracket-trickster]

Happy STS! Since you're on the second draft of ur WIP, how was the progress of the first draft? What are some things you learned during it? What is something you would do differently for your next first draft?

It's so rare to see a writeblr going through revisions and i find your commentary very inspiring. One day i too will be telling myself to leave the sentence be for another draft LOLLL

Oooh I love this question so goddamn much!!! (well, ig it's sort of two? three? questions.) I had so much fun answering this<3333 It was an excellent chance at reflection.

How was the progress of the first draft?

(lol I did not intend for my answer to be this long but it just kept going. But I like the idea of being very transparent about the journey because I hear a lot of nice, summed up "one day I sat down and wrote a novel, the next month I had a manuscript and started querying" stories and I think that can be really invalidating for people for whom the journey isn't that smooth if that is the only narrative you hear.)

I think I came up with the story idea some time in 2019. It was one of those, "princess runs away from an arranged marriage but [redacted due to spoilers]" concepts but at the time I was worldbuilding for other things so I put it aside for later.

About a year later, when I had not made much progress on my other WIPs (due to not having enough worldbuilding ideas to carry a fantasy or sci-fi story and banging my head against a wall trying to think up something I was happy with), I decided, ah what the hell, I'll try this instead.

I picked it because it was a simple concept--an idea fit for a standalone novel on the shorter end, with a fairly small setting and requiring little worldbuilding. It seemed like it would be good practice before I seriously tackled my more ambitious WIPs.

It still took a while to actually get writing. I tried three or four times to make an outline--one was more than 8000 words--and ended up scrapping each of them because when I got to actually writing the scenes I had outlined I found them dry and soulless. I was just going through events that needed to happen but there was no emotion, no humour, no themes, nothing. I tried to write the first chapter once or twice but I started the story too early in the timeline and lost the momentum to keep going. Finally, I wrote a scene somewhere in the middle (the one where Sorin figures out Adris is a girl) and it was the first I was actually happy with. I had fun writing it and then reading it again, and it finally felt like there was some "life" behind the plot I had been failing to outline. I rewrote that scene in both first and third person, decided I liked 1st better, and tried to keep adding to it. Then I had about 3600 words. I wrote another scene near the end (when Isadred and Firnen meet; though I changed this later) and it gave me some direction to work towards.

Then I did not touch the project again for several months.

One day in November of 2021 (NaNoWriMo month but I hadn't heard of it yet) I decided to just go for it and put a bunch of time aside to write like crazy. I started from chapter one and had two rules, 1. Start chapter one as late into the story as possible, and 2. keep it going--don't edit (not even spelling unless it is absolutely critical for me to make sense of later), if I get stuck just jump ahead to the next scene I can write, and if I don't know what happens next just ramble about everything that can't happen until I figure out a situation where that does not apply.

It worked. Really well. The next things I knew (about three weeks in) I had roughly 48 000 words. Some days I was hitting 13-14 000 words per day. Then I took a break because uni and came back to it in April 2022. Same rules, same deal. Suddenly I had 112 572 words.

I got stuck on the ending. I wrote a few scenes but didn't like them. So I figured I would just call it a finished manuscript, put it aside for a while, and come back to it when the time was right.

About two months ago I thought up part of a better ending while in the shower and a few weeks ago, just before I started the second draft I figured out the rest. So I knew it was time and I went back to it.

What are some things you learned during it?

I had a lot of fun. I laughed a lot at the banter and dramatic irony, I highlighted my favourite lines to look back on later, and I left funny comments for myself in the margins. The weird part was that I was not expecting it to be fun at all. I see so much writing content about how hard writing is and how much writers hate it, especially first drafts, and I have done my share of banging my head against a wall (especially in my other WIPs) but, for me at least, it is one thing to get stuck on a plot point, but if I am finding every single new sentence to be a struggle to get down it is probably because my story has not come to life yet. I am writing too much from a place of "hit each plot point in my outline" and not enough from a place of "you know what would be fun/gut-wrenching/shocking/funny/clever/insightful?".

Believe it or not, the middle section was the most fun to write.

I have also come to believe ardently in these commonly touted morsels of advice:

if your story is losing momentum after only a few chapters you either don't know where you are going with it or you have started too far before the inciting incident.

Name your first draft draft zero, garbage draft, word vomit (or in my case, "idk what the FUCK this it looks pretty cool tho"), and just expect utter garbage.

Don't look back, just keep going. You know that thing in improv where they do the "yes, and..." exercise? Do that.

If you are stuck on what happens next, skip that scene and go to the next. There is a chance you may not even need the scene you were stuck on. Long time skips in the same chapter are allowed.

If you don't know what to write just sit down and start rambling. As long as you know what you are trying to write towards, eventually you'll end up there and you can cut the bloat later.

Know your climatic moment before you start--not your ending, but the big final showdown the story is building to. You don't have to know how it resolves (I didn't figure that out until like six weeks ago) but know who is in your final battle and where it takes place.

Don't research. Don't worldbuild. If you need a piece of information you don't have, write [insert type of medieval ship here] and move on.

What is something you would do differently for your next first draft?

I am honestly not sure on this one... I do wish I was a more skilled writer prose-wise because my first drafts would need a lot less editing later on if descriptive, poetic prose came as naturally to me as dialogue and emotional one-liners. But all I can really do for that is keep practicing.

The only other thing I wished I had done from the start was keep a journal, log, or blog of my progress, and save some of the funny comments and [somehow our two romantic leads have to sword fight their way out of a masquerade ball in this scene while dressed to the nines] notes-in-brackets I left in the draft but went back and deleted later once I actually filled out the scene. Hence the existence of this blog now.

One of these days I would also like to develop a proper writing schedule to make more consistent progress throughout the year (instead of the random sprints of activity followed by months of not touching it that I do now). But between the ADHD and the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome I don't know when that will happen.

[wromwood]

BTTF quiz thing

Tagged by @rose-of-pollux. Thanks! Tagging @penny-anna and if anyone else wants to do this, they can!

This year:

How many times would you guess you watched the first back to the future movie?

Does "this year" mean how many times I watched the first movie this year? If so, then.... none, actually. But I was thinking about it a lot! If it's asking how much I've seen the movie over the course of my life, then sooooo many times. Can't think of a way to start counting.

2. Did you get any sweet bttf merch? If so, what!

Again, not this year, but in December of 2022, I got a little BttF skateboard keychain from the merch table of the Back to the Future musical.

3. How many cans of Pepsi Free did you chug this year?

I'm a Coke guy.

4. What was a favorite bttf fanfic you read this year?

Too many to choose from by penny-anna, who wrote so many this past year that I can't decide. Maybe the one where Marty's a borrower.

5. A favorite bttf fanart you saw this year? (please give us a link, not a screencap/repost!)

Honestly, I haven't seen or saved much BttF art. Sorry!

6. Did you create any bttf fanart or fanfic? If you did, what one(s) are you proudest of?

I'm more of a BttF lurker. I did write an extra verse for the "Something About That Boy" song from the BttF musical, but I didn't post it.

7. How many times were you late for work this year?

None. Most of my work was remote, and I was always on time for the work that wasn't.

8. Did you watch any other movies/tv shows with BTTF actors in them?

This year? ... wow, I really can't think of anything.

9. Was there a memorable moment you heard a Huey Lewis song this year?

Ooh, fun question! I'm gonna cheat a bit. This year, I relistened to a whole lot of Weird Al, so to prepare myself for "I Want A New Duck," I re-listened to "I Want a New Drug." I found myself grooving to it because I hadn't heard it in a while.

10. How many times did you fall down this year?

At least once or twice.

11. Did you get to see BTTF: The Musical? What was your experience like?

Yes, in London last December. It was super fun and I was bouncing in my seat by the end. I just wish the rest of my memories of the London trip were as positive.

12. How many times did your mom retell the story of how she and your father met?

None this year. My dad got close to telling the story once or twice.

13. If you could describe your year in a BTTF quote, which one would it be?

"I mean, what if they say I'm no good? What if they say, 'Get outta here, kid, you got no future?' I just don't think I can take that kind of rejection."

14. ⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️ Did you get to: go on any trains, skate on a skateboard, ride a horse, drive a DeLorean, run in the rain, go to a dance, hang up a clock, play the guitar, pull an all-nighter, read science fiction, or drive thru Burger King this year?

Yes, I went on a train (if you don't count subway trains, at the beginning of 2023, I took a train trip from Edinburgh all the way to Burnley, got driven to Colne, then rode the train back from Colne to Edinburgh). I went to a ceilidh and a couple of theater society dances. I unfortunately pulled my fair share of all-nighters finishing my dissertation. I read some sci-fi, including the first book of the Monk and Robot series just recently.

15. Your future is whatever you make it! So what are you going to make of this coming year?

I'm going to get back into the habit of writing regularly and finish my novel.

[amysnotdeadyet]

2023 in review

Just the fannish creations, thanks. I don't want to think too hard about how fucking weird and stressful the year was outside of that. XD

I found some old 00Q art hiding on my hard drive and posted it in Feb.

I wrote a short Inception ficlet for @ladyprydian in April to try to jumpstart my muses. It didn't work.

I binge-wrote a whole-ass Sandman fic with (gasp!) fade-to-black porn in it in May.

July brought the Stony games! I was much less prolific than last year, but I managed a few things, starting with 3 little drabbles about perception.

I did a giftfic for the games! It starts in media res and I, being a troll, titled it In Pornia Res because yeah, this one's just pure porn against a background of worldbuilding.

I posted a longstanding WIP that was 100% self-indulgent trash, with Tony and Steve getting Bucky as their new sugar baby and treating him them right. Absolutely just the fluffiest of trash, but 66K of it!

I posted another longstanding WIP that's really pre-slash (I KNOW so weird) but involves catboy Tony, catboy Bucky, and a puppy Steve who's gonna get both (after the fic anyway).

My last little Stony Games fill was 8-bit pixel porn, because of course it was.

Later in August I did the "write what you want to see" thing and banged out (heh) a very kinky Stranger Things fic with Steve/Eddie and a leather bar. Somehow, it's still extremely fluffy.

I drew! Fanart! With pens and shit! Also Steve/Eddie.

And then I made pixel art of them, because why not.

Another Steddie fic, this time a modern AU with 'lost touch' feelings and also banging the rockstar in his hotel room.

And finally, my MTH2021 fic is posting a year late, and will continue on into the new year. It's all done and edited, I just like the daily posting method for getting drip-fed dopamine and also sitting there posting 29 chapters at once is no bueno.

You can find all of this stuff here, so I'm not link-stuffing the post: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/works

What's Coming in 2024 (besides my blorbos)

I have a few more Stuckony WIPs waiting in the wings, including my MTH 2022 fic, which I hope to finish in time to actually participate in 2024.

I have at least 1 novel coming out and maybe 2? I didn't publish ANY original fiction last year (gah), but I finished 1 draft (the sequel to Hive) and am plodding along on 2 more (Julian 4 and something new). I am so slow these days, tho, gah. I have no idea how some people put out multiple books a year, year after year.

I've got a few more Eeveeon arts to share, which I always forget to do on Tumbls.

I might actually open commissions next year (for art, I don't enjoy fic commissions).

I'm gonna a Stuckony Valentine thing, so you'll get at least one short fic from me in Feb.

I'm hoping something new will sweep me into its fandomy arms, because while I do love my current blorbos (MCU & Stranger Things), neither one is really doing the full fixation dance in my brain and that's sad. OTOH I'd like to finish my MCU WIPs before that spark fully dies ahahaha haha ha.

As far as art goes, I'm keeping up my Patreon sketch cards and not a ton else, but my new-new meds are helping me Get Shit Done, so I'm really hoping that I can get back into larger-than-a-playing-card artwork, both fannish and non.

I'm still gonna do more of my 8-bit bullshit, though.