#maxgraybooks

[milesgraybooks]

bro i want to get back into writeblr but it’s so hard to find a community here. so please reblog this post with one fact about your wip and i will give you one of mine. 

it’s gay send post 

[chemcandles]

Drop a dollar in my venmo (in the tags) and a prompt and i’ll write a ficlet for you

[8-bit-writers]

Writeblr Introduction

Hello, I am back from the dead, formerly maxgraybooks. I am here to make a fresh start and find a writing community to dedicate myself to!

Some quick facts about me:

DID system (98 alters as of April 25th 2024)

22 years old (born in 2001)

Queer

Contemporary lover, but many others as well

Flash fiction, poems, novels, novelettes, novellas, essays, ANYTHING!!!!!

Coffee lover

420 friendly, block me if it makes you uncomfortable please

Some quick facts about my projects:

On Soulmates and Survival

collection of poems and flash pieces about us as a system, signed off by the alter who wrote it. currently being edited by @dibleopard-writes before I'll need beta readers!

favorite poem is 2 of them, girlhood by sunny and boyhood by waylon

favorite flash piece is coffee by beetle

Pro healing

Superkids (title to change)

Used to be a sanders sides fanfiction (if you like sanders sides go here @8-bit-fanfic )

about benji (who we have an alter who named themselves after, long story) who discovers he has the power of manipulating and weaponizing darkness, in which his abusive father forces him to use it to rob houses

benji has a downward then redemption arc

trilogy

I'm looking for friends and communities to join and people to tag in stuff! Please interact!

Our main is @8bitgarden-sys

[did-i-do-this-write]

Last Line

Rules: Share the last lines you wrote of your WIP and tag others to share theirs!

Thank you to @oh-no-another-idea, @zmwrites, @eli-writes-sometimes, @marigoldispeculiar for tagging and including me in this tag game! Here's the last four five lines I wrote for Home is Where Your Light Shines Brightest (and my last writing session for the year 2022 🙃)

Cinder: “Fine.  Have it your way.”

[She gets up and storms out.]

[Emerald is still shaken by their conversation.  Cinder agreed to stay just now…]

[Right?]

Tagging: @annlillyjose, @maxgraybooks, @zoya-writes

[kjscottwrites]

Cavernous WIP Cast: Pritta of House Petry

Pritta of House Petry

She/Her // 26 // Leo // Secondary Antagonist

Pritta is the pedigreed it-girl of the royal inner circle.

Her whole life has been leading up to the day the twin princes come of age and choose a spouse. She's been built, groomed, and destined to become queen consort, no matter the cost.

She's a perfectly curated vision of champagne sparkles, gold flecked plaits, and clinging gowns. To mistake her gossamer presence for softness is the first step in a courtly social downfall. Deferring to Pritta... it's just common sense.

"Heads turned to the entryway all at once. Striding in through the entryway was the same towering woman Irina had had pointed out in the parlor, with the trailing golden-ginger braids and swaying curves. By the look on her face, with her pouty lips curled into the slightest smirk, Carmen could tell that her dramatic lateness was by design. Her cinnamon gown glinted with crystal beading, slit all the way to her ribs, and she wore a glittering choker with chains that trailed down to settle in her bare cleavage and loop around her back. Without a doubt, the real competition had just arrived."

🍄 Character Tag: #PrittaPetry

🍄 Meet the Rest of the Cast Here

Taglist under the cut!

Taglist: @ultimatecryptid @kainablue @asher-writes @saraheadriance @maxgraybooks @thelaughingstag @artbyeloquent @ellierenae @calicojackofficial @wildswrites @galaxy-writer @raisapathy @astridmayewrites @antique-symbolism-main @crazybunchwriting @writer-artemis​ @kittensartswriting​ @jacquesfindswritingandadvice​ @happyorogeny @simdoodleswrites @elijahrichardwrites @rainbowsnowflake

& @wip-nook (thanks!)​

If u voted for Kairus - he's on his way next sorry lmao it was still a tieeee

[miles-upshur-smokes-weed]

EMERGENCY Commissions Open

Venmo: maxgraybooks

Cashapp: $chemcandles

For each dollar you send I will write 100 words under a prompt/pairing of your choice

[chillcrafting]

[maxgrayarchived]

beta readers needed for short story

Message me if you’re interested! 

It’s contemporary, implied queer romance, and about 2300 words (that’s 6 pages). Here’s the first few paragraphs: 

THE FACTORY WAS LONG SINCE ABANDONED. Weeds intruded through the broken pavement, the sky gray reflecting off the boulders along the path. It’d just finished raining, leaving the ground dangerous, one slip fatal, puddles like landmines for Micah’s shitty sneakers. The factory itself, Micah had never strayed inside, but the outside was just as monotone as the rest, staring at Micah in boredom. “Took you long enough,” it said. “Where’ve you been?” 

A slumped figure sat on the wet pavement in the distance, swallowed by his black hoodie. He held something in his hand, green and yellow. 

Micah stopped in front of him. “You’re going to get sick.” 

Ezra glanced down at the puddle he was sitting in. He shrugged, the leaf in his hand fluttering to the sticky ground. 

Gently kicking his boot, he said, “Don’t be emo, I can’t take it today.”

Reblog please! 

[random-snippets]

Before bed kiss? W/.... moxiety?

There’s a ritual to it now, and after a few years of being with Virgil, Patton has it down to a science.

Or perhaps it’s an art, not a science, because there’s nothing but pure artistic beauty in everything about Virgil, in the music of his laughter and the sparkle in his eyes, or the graceful swoop of his hair as it falls delicately over his pale brow. There’s not enough poetry in the world to explain the way he makes Patton’s heart flip-flop when he does that glance, the one where his head is tilted forward and he tips it up to the side to look at Patton and smile, a private, secret smile shared just between the two of them that means I understand everything about you and I love every piece of it.

Then again, Logan might argue that it is a science. There’s science in the careful observation and documentation of just what makes Virgil smile like that, in the careful noting of precisely how he likes to be held and touched and kissed. There’s also a kind of beauty in the precision of ritual and the rigorous practice of perfecting a routine--of refining it until you have achieved the optimal outcome--so maybe it’s not art or science, but some combination of both: some blissful, perfect in-between.

Maybe in the end they’re just two words for the same phenomenon.

Patton will leave that debate to greater minds than his, though, because all he knows is at night, when Virgil’s starting to get tired, his blinks get slower, and the ritual begins.

That’s the start: the slow blinks. When Patton sees Virgil’s lids droop slowly, then rise again but never quite as high as they were before, those are the first few notes of the song of the routine, and it’s a melody he knows as well as breathing, as well as his own heartbeat.

The first part of the routine is a bit more like science, perhaps, because it’s perfunctory. After Patton has risen to his feet and reached out to take Virgil’s hands, to pull him up and close for a long, soft embrace, he murmurs, “Bedtime,” and Virgil nods where his head rests on Patton’s shoulder, and then the business part of things begins.

First, there’s the sharing of the bathroom as they each brush their teeth and wash their faces, a careful step-slide around each other as they make use of their single sink. Roman has offered multiple times to conjure another one for them, but they’ve never taken him up on it, content, Patton thinks, to share it as they’ve come to share the other pieces of their lives. It’s intimate, and it gives them an excuse to press into one another’s sides as they attend to the the demands of biology and hygiene.

He leaves Virgil to remove his make-up and heads into the bedroom, where he tugs down the comforter on their large bed (this they had allowed Roman to create for them, though Patton often thinks with fond amusement that they probably could’ve made do with a twin--they spend so much of the night wrapped up so closely that they only use the tiniest of spaces anyway--but even he must blushingly admit there are other uses for a large bed space, ones that he and Virgil make use of freely and gladly).

He changes into his night clothes then, usually no more than a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt, though on cooler nights he might don a pair of flannel pants instead. By then, Virgil is done in the bathroom, and emerges, and this part is so important: Patton greets him at the foot of the bed, just outside the bathroom door, and admires the face that is bared to him. He plants a tiny kiss on every freckle, blemish, and perceived imperfection, and Virgil accepts these offerings of adoration willingly, cheeks warm and flushed pink by the time Patton finishes the ritual with the tiniest of kisses to the tip of his nose.

Then, Patton waits while Virgil disrobes, folding the hoodie and laying it out across their desk chair (some pieces of the ritual are private, and Patton doesn’t intrude here).

But when he’s ready, he turns back to Patton and they lace their fingers together, climbing onto the monstrously large bed and curling into the center.

Some nights, there are interludes--peaceful and sleepy, generally, as their more energetic encounters tend to take place in the afternoon--but most nights, they simply fold into one another’s arms and snuggle close, slotting into the familiar fit that they have worked together to perfect over the years: Virgil’s head on Patton’s shoulder, Patton’s cheek resting on Virgil’s hair, arms and legs intertwined. There’s barely a breath of air between them--no room for nightmares or uncertainties to worm their way into their rest--and Patton wouldn’t have it any other way.

The final piece of the ritual is the most important, if there can be said to be a superlative piece to a perfect event: in the darkness of their room, lit only by the dim glow of fairy lights strung high overhead, Virgil will draw back only far enough to tilt his face upward. In the dimness of that light, his eyes glitter darkly, and his lips part on an expectant breath of air.

It’s impossible to resist that siren’s call, and Patton wouldn’t dream of trying, anyway. He leans down, tipping his head just far enough to slot his lips against Virgil’s, eyes drifting closed as he breathes in the minty taste of their toothpaste. The goodnight kiss is never perfunctory: it’s a perfect slow melding of lips and tongue, a several-moments-long exploration that usually leaves Patton a little breathless. If they are to enjoy one of their sleepy lovemaking sessions, this is where it begins: in that deep, soul-searching kiss.

But not tonight. Tonight, the kiss ends, and is punctuated by several tiny additional ones, and Virgil’s face breaks into a smile that still goes straight to Patton’s heart with its sweetness, even after all these years.

“G’night, Pat,” he murmurs, tucking his head back into the crook of Patton’s shoulder. He doesn’t say I love you because he just has, not in words but in a language they have perfected along with their ritual.

“Goodnight, Virge,” is his response, and Virgil’s arms tighten around him before his breathing grows deep and slow and steady.

It’s art, and it’s science, or maybe it’s both or maybe it’s neither, but it doesn’t matter because it’s theirs, and Patton is happy.

[radley-writes]

Exclusionists ARE shits and ily

<3 They really are. 

[randomslasher]

Hey, LJ! Would you have any tips on how to practice anatomy, and characters interacting with each other (like cuddling, dancing, even just holding hands is difficult for me lol)? I love you and I hope you're doing well

References my friend, references. And if you can? Draw from life. One of the biggest difficulties for an artist is making something on 2D space look like it is occupying a 3D space. The biggest thing I see with art is an image that looks too ‘flat’ or like the limbs aren’t really occupying the space they’re supposed to be occupying. (For instance, when drawing a hug, the arm that is going behind the other person’s body doesn’t just cut straight through--it has to curve around, then come back. So it’s not going to be able to reach all the way around and look as long as an arm that was just sticking straight through empty space, if that makes sense?)

Practicing from life (not even anatomy, just drawing real life objects in a 3D space, not from a photo) will help you learn the tricks that “flatten” images on paper. 

But in the meantime, if you’re looking to draw someone cuddling, go find a picture and use a reference! Senshistock is a phenomenal resource and they literally do their photos for the express purpose of creating references for artists. 

[milesgraybooks]

YAY!!! IT’S OUT!!!

@gloriafrimpong @shaelinwrites @dib-leo-pard @devanimation @kjscottwrites @woodhousejay

[lycanthrop-ee]

4, 9, 10? 🖤

Ty for the ask!!

4- a song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about

Hmmmm, maybe Icicles by The Scary Jokes? Which isn't to say I don't like the song bc it's still in half of my playlists sjjdjdjsj

9- a song that makes you happy

Instead Of My Room by Charlie Burg! I only discovered it recently but it has very good vibes :)

10- a song that makes you sad

Ooh umm lemmie see

Two Birds by Regina Spektor always hurts, especially in relation to my Empty House AU- oh and Braodway, Here I Come from Roman's playlist for obvious reasons ouch

[writingwithcolor]

I didn't see anything about it in the search bar or the faq, so I thought I'd send in a quick ask. I'm planning out a story set in the zombie apocalypse, and 2 of the main characters are black (they're siblings). In the very beginning, their mom dies, and they're separated from their dad almost right after. A big plot is them trying to find and reunite with their dad. If I end up killing him off instead, would that be offensive? Are there any stereotypes I should know about regarding orphans?

Black Siblings & Black Death: Orphaning in Apocalypse

I’d be disappointed if you killed the Black dad off. The Black mother has already died (again, i’m sad) and even without them being Black, dead parents is a well-worn trope. 

Survival of Black characters is generally good and welcome representation.

Still, I get that it’s the apocalypse and few actually survive in these concepts. 

Here are my suggestions for alternatives, or ways to “soften” the pain of this concept:

Death is not the only solution. Long-term separation and other hardships that one has to live with is another way to create turmoil for characters without killing everyone. 

Don’t kill every single Black character. And perhaps, not both parents. 

Avoid graphic death scenes or needless torture/suffering of Black characters

Bitter-sweet endings. Keyword here is sweet. There’s a positive even within a bleak situation. Perhaps the family shares a special moment before saying goodbye, or they’re left with a key advantage thanks to the parent (not something they sacrificed themselves to provide, though, ideally)

Treat hardships equally. The Black people’s lives shouldn’t be the only ones faced with tragedy or losing family. If there’s other races, they should face hard times of comparable difficulty so as to not single out Black characters with all the pain.

~Mod Colette

[did-i-do-this-write]

Last Line

Rules: Share the last lines you wrote of your WIP and tag others to share theirs!

Over the course of a few weeks, I've been tagged in a last line game by @autie-auden-writes, @cherrybombfangirlwrites, @emelkae, and @zmwrites! I thought I would combine them all, so here are the last four sentences I have written on my current WIP :D

Qrow laughed to himself.

Guess I made a difference after all.

He took one more deep breath before heading out to the lawn.

He had a ceremony to partake in.

Tagging: @dragon-swords-prophecies, @annlillyjose, @maxgraybooks, and @zoya-writes

[kjscottwrites]

Cavernous WIP Cast: Stacker

Stacker

He/Him // 26 // Scorpio // Primary Love Interest

There's little more important to Stacker than the simple pleasures of keeping a thriving garden and good company.

Rugged and calloused on first impressions, it doesn't take much to reveal that right under the surface, Stacker is no more and no less than a big softy. When three strange women from the world above come tumbling suddenly into his humble subterranean life, he's quick to make himself a resource to them - always keen, hospitable, observant, though not particularly verbose.

Stacker is a fisherman by trade... at least, most of the time. The extent of his many skills and vocations is as much a mystery as his origins. He has no surname. No biological family. Despite his kind disposition, Stacker remains adept at keeping his cards close to his chest.

"She spun, spotting Stacker perched up on the far retaining wall of his garden, looking back from where his villa overlooked the glinting lights of the city. He had changed from his rustic traveling robe into a loose kaftan, with a deep-cut neckline and baggy sleeves. His hair was tied back now, glinting with all its little gold ornaments, his face no longer obscured and strange as it had been when she’d first seen him. Suddenly, his massive, broad-shouldered frame commanded a warm, far less intimidating presence."

🍄 Character tag: #Stacko (lol) 🍄 Meet the Rest of the Cast Here

Taglist under the cut!

Taglist: @ultimatecryptid @kainablue @asher-writes @saraheadriance @maxgraybooks @thelaughingstag @artbyeloquent @ellierenae @calicojackofficial @wildswrites @galaxy-writer @raisapathy @astridmayewritess @antique-symbolism-main @crazybunchwriting @writer-artemis​ @kittensartswriting​ @jacquesfindswritingandadvice​ @happyorogeny​ @simdoodleswrites @elijahrichardwrites @rainbowsnowflake

@wip-nook​