#writing introduction

[ink-fireplace-coffee]

Bellwether: a Wip Intro

Welcome to Bellwether! This place looks like just out of a postcard... someone forgot to send. Red-brick storefronts, a diner with a jukebox and the same people in the same places every single day. It's like a cycle. There are just a couple of rules before you set in! 1. Do not ask about the accident. 1. Do not ask about the accident. 1. Do not-- I said that already didn't I? 2. If you see something... No you did not. 3. Do not talk about what you saw. Really. It's better that way. Anyway! Hope you enjoy your stay!

---

Status: drafting/plotting (i'm just gonna make it up as I go. no plan)

POV: multiple POVs 3rd person omniscient.

Genre: supernatural/ mystery (?), rural paranormal.

CW/TW: death and implied death, explosion and fire trauma, ptsd/anxiety/panic attacks, survivor's guilt, paranormal themes (including hallucinations), emotional abuse depiction, self-isolation, possible light gore, substance abuse.

Summary: an old group of what used to be friends and a newcomer are brought back together years after their town suffered a catastrophe. Now, as much as they try, they cannot ignore the signs anymore, and they must try to understand and reveal the patterns they tried to turn away from to break the cycle before it completes again, while also navigating the hardship of repairing relationships bonds that fractured, as well as grieving who they used to be... No one will come back the same.

Character Intros: TBD

Tropes: unreliable narrators, found family (with lots of work to do), small town mystery.

Themes: cycles/repetition, grief and memory, identity (both individual and as a town).

Taglist: open! ask/reblog to be added!

@writeouswriter

[marthasmargins]

THE FUNERAL PYRE. ∣ a sapphic/lesbian vampire novella ↳ The idea of touch leaves the vampire averse and yet she grasps at the woman’s shoulders as if she’s holding on for dear life, as if she’s been dangled over a never-ending edge and this woman is the sole, tangible object in her vicinity onto which she can dig her nails. She can feel the woman smile against her neck, feels her hold her tighter, and the vampire wants to cry.

GENRE: gothic horror, sapphic/lesbian literature POV: third person, present THEMES: vampirism illustrated as metaphor for desire, overcoming internalized homophobia (except the story takes place sometime in the 15-18th century), discussions of religion and religiosity.

EXCERPT:

It happens as she passes by the woman to get to the cellar for more carrots. For a moment, the vampire can't help but follow the curve of her neck, to notice—not for the first time—how beautiful she is, to outline the inviting slope of her shoulder. For a moment, it seems so easy to just lean in, to plant a kiss on soft skin. "Are you alright?" The woman asks. The knife is in her hand, the tomatoes half-diced. The vampire jumps three feet into the air for having been caught staring, face burning in shame. The realization of it all shoots through her like a sheet of ice, pale and cold, and her heart palpitates with excitement and self-hatred all the same. "I'm fine," she manages, and tells the woman that she'll be retiring to bed immediately. She does not need the woman's soup, nor does she want it. The woman's efforts to keep her from leaving are valiant as they are admirable: a hand grabbing at her bishop sleeves, a swift move to stand in front of her to survey her face, to search for emotion that she knows she won't find. The vampire dodges each attempt with expert precision and flees to her bedroom anyway. In the dark, she lays down with tears and bites her hand to keep the nausea at bay. Bile tastes a certain kind of bitter and she gags. With great effort, she sinks her teeth into her fist and pays no mind to the blood that pools beneath her head, the red that soaks into her pillows and sheets. She can wash them anyway; the blood has far been watered down by her tears. She notes with distaste how dirty desire feels. In the dark sanctuary of her room, she prays and prays for the feeling to go away. In the morning, she washes her sheets and acts like yesterday didn't happen at all, but in her throat, the bile remains.

third image by Elizaveta Porodina

T A G L I S T  lmk if you wish to be added!

[nondelphic]

i hit 200 followers (!!!) two weeks after starting my blog (thank you so much!). so i thought i'd write a short introductory post for any mutuals or anyone who's interested in me but not interested enough to read my explore page over on my ""aesthetic"" tumblr site (nondelphic.tumblr.com)

my name is rebecka and i'm a '02-born queer writer from sweden. i grew up writing fanfics on wattpad and tumblr but since i was 15/16 i've exclusively written original stories. or, i've tried lol. i never actually managed to finish a full draft until this year (2024), which i'm now rewriting before i send it off to a publisher in hopes to get an agent.

regardless of whether my work gets published or not, i love writing, and i especially love sharing self-deprecating jokes and rants about how draining writing can be. because let's be honest, for most of us, writing isn't a linear progress. everyone can't be stephen king writing 5k words everyday. but we all try our best!

this blog is in its current form a safe space for people to relate to the first world problems of being an aspiring author, with the occasional rants about my still very secretive projects (don't steal my project ideas you bitch!) and motivational advice.

everyone is welcome here except bigots, pretty much (read the dni on my explore page for the full disclaimer, i will block anyone who's openly on my dni list)

[oros-ash3s]

|| 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Ꮺ. chrysalis || metamorphosis || what lies below

Hello, it’s @oros-ash3s!! Welcome to my blog ⋆˚꩜｡

I was reorganizing my blog and decided it was time for an updated welcome, so, without further ado, here is my brand new intro post! If you’re new around here, hi, I’m Ash. On this blog you'll see me post my writing, drawings, portfolio work, and occasional rambles.

ೀ I’m an OC-centric artist and writer and have been creating for some time now. I typically create traditional art but occasionally I also like to dabble in digital as well. Most of my art focuses on my characters, obviously, but I also love creating surrealism pieces that explore complex topics.

ೀ I’m very passionate about things like animation, literature, art in all of its forms, music, character analysis, and learning more about different cultures mythology. Not to mention the thousands of tv shows I’ve developed hyperfixations to at some point!

ೀ I'm always looking to make new writer or artist moots/friends so feel free to send me a dm whenever. (I promise I don’t bite.) l'd love to hear about your wips and OCs, so don't be afraid send me things like writing, art, or et cetera so I can check them out.

ೀ My ask box is also ALWAYYYS open for requests or questions as l literally love rambling on about my ocs + talking to people .ᐟ.ᐟ

ೀ I try to be as active as I possibly can, although sometimes school takes up my time and I’m forced back into hiding loll. I do my best >_<

Anndddd that’s all there is to know about it me .ᐟ Thanks so much for stopping by 🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:

|| 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒

꒱꒱ MAIN

@viridis-icithus is dedicated to mainly reblogs of whichever stuff I come across on my main page, as well as my frequently-shifting hyperfixations. It’s also where most of my interactions come from. Such as follows, asks, and replies.

꒱꒱ WRITING ALT.

@chrysalis-thestateofchange is a personal project of mine with my very talented co-writer @ohagiwrites. It focuses on our main wip, Chrysalis: The State of Change. More information can be found on the masterpost above, or by clicking the link to the page!

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 ┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗

I try to keep my tagging system fairly simple and easy to navigate on this blog. You can find everything you’re searching for by looking at the search button, where I have all my different wips organized.

I also have two taglists. One for writing, and one for art. You can join them by clicking on this link HERE and this link HERE.

If that doesn’t work for you, feel free to send me an ask, comment, or dm to be added and/or removed!

GENERAL TAGLIST || @ohagiwrites @bloodinkandashes @corinneglass @icantthinkofablognameatm @vesanal @inky-anathemata @bioniclechronicles @seastarblue @gr3yhellh0und @aalinaaaaaa @robinshandhurts @ieppiq @sugaredparchment @lunaeuphternal @ifmasonbasonwasawriter @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @blackboxwarrior-mkultra @lancedoncrimsonwings @sharkblizzardblogs @nightmaricwriter @theink-stainedfolk

𓆝 ⋆.

[rhyaxxyn]

𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

"𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒏. 𝑵𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝑨𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐, 𝒏𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕; 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅. 𝑰𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅."

— 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐢

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

GENRE: New Adult (16-25) / Contemporary Fantasy SUB-GENRE: Romance / SciFi / Dystopian / Action POV: Third Person (Multi) / Past Tense THEMES/TROPES: War, Found Family, Heroism, Sacrifice, Power, Corruption, Enemies to Lovers, Bigotry, Forgotten Past, Faith, Dark VS. Light STATUS: Seeking Publication

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒:

In the wake of a god being mysteriously killed, the Nameless War has waged between the gods and humanity for fifty-eight years, killing that which is mortal and immortal, and creating constant battles for territory between the divine Creator military and the human Revolutionists. As hope for future peace between the species wanes, the fate of the war lands in unlikely hands. Pandora, a goddess, the lost creator, nameless and chained to the Earth because of duty, yet still running from her true power. Quinn, a god, the skijic and Creator High General, desperate for the memories of a life lost and the familiarity of a purple-eyed goddess. Natia, a girl, heiress to one of the Republic of Valentulus’s most powerful cities, and slave to the Revolutionist Snake General. Loyalties whither, fear awakens, and stories collide as the Nameless War reaches its tipping point. It is up to Pandora, Quinn, and Natia, each of them sworn against one another, to challenge the boundaries of their duties—and their pasts. The only thing that might change their opposing fates is the truth, but letting the past fly free could very well set the darkness loose. The fight between deities and humanity is made equal, and the fate of the universe unsure.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 - 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬

PANDORA: Goddess of Nothing, Governor of Domum Deorum, Creator of the Universe. Extremely skilled in both alchemic and physical combat; well versed in a number of chordophone instruments (piano, kaleiscian zarisk, violin); selfless and self sacrificing; compassionate, analytical, cultured, stubborn, witty. QUINN: God of Stars, High General of the Creator Military. Omne’s personal “lap dog” before his capture; good with any blade, has "shit aim"; short with those he doesn’t know/care about; protective, sarcastic, composed, knowledgeable, caring, prideful. NATIA GENESIS: Heiress of Genesis Point. Little Sparrow. Remarkably intelligent in regards to literature, strategy, and divine biology due to intense schooling; the Republic of Valentulus' most renowned deitologist; near non-existent family ties outside of the media; intelligent, kind, self-destructive, abrasive.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 - 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬

OPHELIA SERPENTINE – General of the Revolutionist Military Government. Although not a master of strategy like Natia, she is manipulative; willing to do any and everything to maintain her power; manipulative, emotionally intelligent, controlling, dedicated, knowledgeable, passionate. OMNE - Goddess of the Universe (Mind), Queen of the Gods. Like Ophelia, she is extremely manipulative in order to achieve her means, though she keeps them hard to distinguish; analytical, facetious, secretive, manipulative, humorous, rude.

𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

REPUBLIC OF VALENTULUS – Otherwise known as the R.O.V.; had once been the newly created nation in place of the United States in order to maintain control over the worsening relations between gods and humans. Unfortunately, much of it was destroyed after the beginning of the war, spare for the wealthiest districts and cities. DOMUM DEORUM - Heather’s city she built through the means of alchemy. Gods and humans live in unity here, under the leadership of Heather’s councils: Low Council (general citizens), High Council (divine and human district leaders), Master Alchemists (gods who have mastered the alchemic arts). For fifty-eight years Domum Deorum has existed in secret, though their efforts in the war remain influential.  GENESIS POINT - A city with close ties to the Revolutionist military government. Mainly profits from scientific innovations, particularly thanks to Natia's efforts as a deitologist, and diplomatic advisors. As such, they are a major producer of both technology and weaponry. The city has been led by the Genesis family since its creation, Lukyn Genesis the most recent, with Natia Genesis as the next in line to inherit one of the R.O.V.'s most powerful governments.

(order of protags in the images above: Natia Genesis, Quinn, Pandora.)

Note: this is definitely one of several times i've introduced this particular book, but i'm so, so, so happy to do so. infinite tangents is the first book of many in the natural orders series, and i'm so excited to share with you all how far this story has come since i came up with it in 2014 (which is insane to me). hopefully, this story will be published soon... if i can work up the courage to email literary agents.

[kvneho1nc]

"Welcome to the lab my pet."

Hello and welcome to my account!!

My name is Kuneho / DP ( and for those who know, welcome back! My old account is still up, just so my works aren't lost. )

I am a trans masc with heavily preferred it / it's / its / itself nouns but he / him works as well!

I was a major Killer Chat writer for the longest while but I grew burnt out and now am refreshed here!!!

I am an 18 year old writer who loves fanfiction and art ( though you won't see much art from me I fear ) and will accept commissions!!! Pricing varies from work and such, still working out those kinks!

What do you write Kuneho?

Glad you asked!!!

HOWEVER :

I write all things ranging from sfw fluff to the heart wrenchingly hurtful angst to the god forbid an ankle is shown smut!

What counts as NSFW?

Anything sexual or gory of that nature. I will ask for age verification so please do not lie to me or come to me as a minor asking for NSFW works..

I have a right to refuse anything that makes me uncomfortable such as BUT not limited to :

Immoral ships ( brother / brother , mother / son , kidnapped / kidnapper , etc. )

Heavy topics of dysphoria ( with some acceptions )

Heavy topics including abuse of any kind ( again, with acceptions )

Anything homophobic , transphobic , racist , etc.

Anything weird in damn general.

I advise looking through the list just in case I don't meet your needs!!!

BUT I ALSO SHALL SAY that if you want, you can dm me on my Tumblr ( this account ) and ask for my discord if you want a commission!

- I also will have my asks open, will write a snippet for them! Each week, it's three at a time depending on the amount of asks!!!

- if you need a reference for some of my work, you can go to @serial-killers-hope which I went under the alias DP for the longest time... Woah

- My prices will VARY on what you want or need :

SFW 1K ONE SHOT : $15 USD

SFW 2K ONE SHOT : $18 USD

NSFW 1K ONE SHOT : $20 USD

NSFW 2K ONE SHOT : $ 25 USD

Any word length addon ( 100 + ) will be $5 added

I hope to see you soon!!!

If I add a few words over that I see fit ( around 10 to 20 words or so ), I will not charge the fee.

< And thank you for reading this 3

[exgingerwrites]

Introduction

Hello! I'm ExGinger, but you can call me Ginger, Jack, or Jake if you like.

I'm 19 years old, and am a writer based in Detroit, MI.

I predominantly write psychological horror/thriller, dystopias, and Epics heavy on the mental stresses of great adventures. I mostly write stories based in the world of the Necroverse, mainly written by @thedearhunter1, and co authored by myself and Onnie277 [who does not have a tumblr].

Outside of writing, my main job is cooking, bouncing from kitchen to kitchen until I find one where the store owner isn't a raging asshole [which is tough in my area] so expect to see some home-cooked food made by an amateur chef-in-training.

The stories I've written are as follows, newest first and oldest last.

Cody Carson, a story of a singer who has his voice taken from him thanks to an arcane scientist experimenting with a divine relic. The arcane scientist unwittingly set off a chain of events that would domino into Cody killing a man who was effectively immortal, then giving his body to reincarnate the god of Justice from the edges of oblivion. [Inspo: Toge Inumaki, Yuji Itadori, Set it Off, ++I really wanted to write a story of a man truly losing Everything]

Scott Al-Qahir, a story of a man who's entire livelihood is based on the arcane. The son of a legendary figure known as Androth the Red, and the only son of androth to have A. Survived, B. Been born with the Eyes of the Red, and C. Been born with the white hair of Androth. [Inspo: Aoi Todo (my goat), Yujiro Hanma, Bear Ghost, ++I really wanted to write a cannibal]

Jack Korowicz, a story of a man who is resurrected with a poorly measured necromancy spell, which messed up the binding. An Undead with no master, and no memory. Still actively using him for a TTRPG campaign, so his story is yet undecided. [Inspo: Harrier DuBois QBomb, Mindless Self Indulgence, general Punk Rock Culture.]

Mendex, the story of a god who doesn't know what they're the god of until much later in their story. The tale of a creature with no identity, just a shapeshifting eight-limbed, eight-eyed creature who named himself the deceiver. [Inspo: Noland the Liar, Usopp, Copycat / Changer type characters]

The Mechanic / Salpetriere, a Supergenius who was completely rejected from society because he broke the laws of nature. So, he made his own society to live in. [Inspo: I just wanted to make a technocratic near-dystopia.]

The Grand Admiral Ironside, a Violetblooded Homestuck OC that required me to rewrite roughly 70% of alternia to fix all of andrew hussie's plotholes + unexplaineds. A rebel who uses a double life to deceive the condesce and build power until he can revolt successfully, using indispensable connections he built along the way.

[forgettable-au]

FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 36-39)

* To note. Her hands are scaly. * And...unexpectedly wet?

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[gojoest]

the nerdy boy (gojo satoru) in your class keeps staring at you.

he’s a peculiar one.

he always sits in the front rows in the university lecture hall, and often raises a hand to ask or answer questions. sometimes he makes additions to what the lecturer said, other times — he makes corrections. he’s a blessing for some educators and a nightmare for others.

very smart. almost concerningly so. there are times when you think he should be the one leading the lectures instead of the professors. most of them seem uncomfortable in his presence, often glancing his way for a nod of approval during class, clearly distressed and wary of yet another academic confrontation, because gojo satoru — as much of a nerd he is — is not the quiet and easy type. he’s considered arrogant and hard to manage. perhaps, courtesy of having a threateningly vast knowledge and a unique way of justifying his point, which he seems to be very proud of. he’s almost cheeky when he speaks, using a respectful form of speech but with an undeniable and evident (very much on purpose) undertone of arrogance in the way those very respectful words come out of his mouth. it can drive a person crazy.

but every time he’s done speaking, he turns back to look at you. as if to check, if you are listening to him. to see if you notice him. as much as he tries to be subtle about it, you see it. maybe he thinks the strands of his fluffy hair that fall on his face and the glasses he wears help hide the direction in which he is glancing at.

but you see it, and soon enough you figure it out — that the nerdy boy in your class has a crush on you, that even a genius like him can become a bit stupid at times.

[marthasmargins]

WIPS OVERVIEW <3

hello everyone! finally had a chance to sit down an actually start typing out a general overview of my current works in progress. I'm incredibly excited to share these, and can't wait to begin posting more about them!!

it is also important to note that I frequently write about issues that have impacted me or my family personally, whether that be mass state-sanctioned violence/atrocities or things like intolerance, etc.

most of these are short stories or novellas, and I hope you guys have as much fun consuming this content as I had making them!

THE FUNERAL PYRE

STATUS / complete, in editing stage GENRE / gothic horror, cottage-core (kinda), literary fiction LENGTH / standalone novella POV / third person, present tense.

WARNINGS / blood, biting, intense but non-graphic descriptions of shame regarding sexuality

THEMES / vampirism illustrated as metaphor for sapphic desire, overcoming internalized homophobia (except the story takes place in the 15-18th century), religion and religiosity

CONTEXT / I wrote the first draft of this story around two years ago when I was first coming to terms with my sexuality. It was incredibly difficult, but fleshing out and writing the story brought great healing.

BLURB / The vampire is a quiet being, living on a homestead in the outskirts of a village she happens upon in the effort to isolate herself. the villagers know that she's different, and assume that she is the bloodthirsty and insatiable monster that they've all heard rumors about while trading with nearby villages. so, the townsfolk begin to routinely send over people whom they think are also "cursed" as a sacrifice to the vampire, supposedly to keep the monster placated enough to not kill the village, while also disposing of the "witches" that they do not want as their neighbors. it’s completely unspoken, the entire thing. nobody talks about it. theres no word for it. there’s just a new person on her door, once every few months, trembling with fear. with an unamused look, she lets each of them hang their coats and take a bath, gives them food, and then a cloth bag of just enough vegetables from her garden to last them the trip across the lake and to the next town over. she never speaks to them. the town thinks she eats the people, but those sent to her remain safe and away from their oppressors. as far as she’s concerned, there remains nothing left to be desired in such a quiet life, but still it’s a quiet life and far from the chaos that usually plagues those like her. that is, until, they send over the woman who will come to embody her biggest fear: desire.

[FINAL TITLE WILL BE RELEASED SOON] or "The Coldest Evening of the Year"

STATUS / writing first draft GENRE / gothic horror, literary fiction LENGTH / standalone novella POV / first person, present tense.

WARNINGS / death, non-graphic descriptions of violence and blood

THEMES / grief and loss of culture/identity, loneliness, finding love

CONTEXT / the story is based off of an Anatolian myth, the karakoncolos, wherein the mythological creature's lore is reimagined and used as a plot device to explore what it looks like to survive and live life after experiencing a mass atrocity (specifically inspired by my kurmanji-kurd and turkish roots and family history).

BLURB / the story is told in the first person, but not through the main character's narration. rather, it is told through the eyes of a student attending a prestigious graduate school for astrophysics, snuggled high in the snowy mountains where the winter months are unbearably long and cold. her name is Diane. the protagonist of the book, however, is Uriel, a man who was transformed into a karakoncolos during one of turkey's many massacres against its kurdish population. though the myth changes depending on your region in Anatolia, Uriel falls victim to one of the karakoncolos's most heinous tricks: being lured outside of his home during the height of the Zemheri, hearing the voice of his mother who had been missing for days during the massacres. as he steps into death's arms, he realizes that his fate will be far less merciful than death. Uriel, despite his best wishes, is now immortal, and fated to roam the earth, only visible to the rest of the world during the coldest evenings of the year.

as always, thank you for your time and let me know if you have any particular thoughts about either of these stories!

warmly, martha

[toastysol]

Just remembered the first time i played Cyberpunk and how I was prepared for Johnny to be an asshole, but I honestly was not prepared for how pathetic he was. Like he's actually so pathetic in his memories. Everyone wants to punch him in the balls, no one wants to talk to him, he's so desperate for more drugs he comes crawling back to the woman who just broke up with him, minutes after telling her to fuck off cause he doesn't give a shit about her. He immediately then gets stabbed through the back by some goon. His ripper confirms he never takes care of himself and never listens to anyone. Idk what my point is. He's pathetic.

[pmd-explorersofspace]

Chester and Ray

[nondelphic]

welcome to nondelphic, *a blog about writing, overthinking writing, abandoning writing, and occasionally finishing writing. if you’re a fan of crying about writing, niche metaphors, and posts that spiral into existentialism, you’re in the right place.

rebecka (she/her)

22, swedish

writer, journalism student, full-time cat enthusiast (send me pictures of your cats)

queer and aro/ace (still figuring out the specifics...)

i probably have adhd (waiting to be officially diagnosed lol)

most likely drinking tea and diving into a rabbit hole about space, mountains or stuff too complicated for me to understand right now

my 2nd, less active blog is @rebellenotes where i post longer, more serious ramblings and essays.

i started this blog because i’ve always loved talking about writing—especially the struggles and chaos we all face as aspiring authors. none of my friends on other platforms cared (lol), so this space became my little haven for all things writing. i hope it can be that for you too, a safe, encouraging place to talk about stories, creativity, and all the weird ups and downs of being a writer (｡♥‿♥｡)

✏️ writing tips, memes, and struggles (mostly struggles)

📖 occasionally bookish content and recommendations

🌈 advocacy for lgbtq+ and disability rights !!

🍅 an unnecessary amount of love for cats and writing for fun

#nondelphic asks : where i answer asks you sent me!

#nondelphic writing tips : actual useful advice (sometimes)

#nondelphic status : life updates and ramblings

thanks for stopping by! feel free to send an ask, vibe in the tags, or just lurk it’s all love here <3 ✧٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ✧

follower milestones !!:

nov 18th 2024: 2k dec 21st: 3k jan 18th 2025: 4k may 21st: 6k may 31st: 7k june 15th: 8k ✧

[sturnsflirt]

001 ────── FRATBOY!CHRIS AND DOE!READER'S FIRST INTERACTION . . .

WARNINGS: smut at the bottom! 18+ content, ass smacking, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), roouuugh!chris

your wide eyes dart around the stimulating frat house, rap music playing from crappy speakers, the smell of sweat and alcohol dances around, making you tighten your grip against your diet coke, taking a small sip through a bendy straw. your mary janes clack softly against the wooden floors of the frat house, wandering around curiously, your skirt lightly bouncing with each step you took, your eyes skimming over the drunken, sweaty bodies laughing and stumbling around on the stairs, before you shift uncomfortably, feeling someone standing behind you, and you hesitantly looked back. it was chris, leaning against the wall you were just standing against, his blue eyes cold, but had an allure to them. you felt your ears grow hot, before looking down quickly, smoothing out the fabric of your skirt, as he slowly held out the joint to your lips, silently offering it. "i don't.. smoke." you mumble quietly, gently shaking your head and pushing his hand away, causing him to raise an eyebrow. you didn't seem affected by his advances. he was an ass, whatever he had his eyes on, he would obviously chase after it, but the fact that you blissfully denied his advances threw him off. it irritated him, although it shouldn't. you were just some typical girl.. right?

you don't know how you ended up in this position, you simply remember rambling about your weekend, when you got your nails done, went to the mall, and mentioned how you finally got some me-time. but here you are, your face buried in his pillow, a dribble of drool spilling down your chin, your ass in the air, the sound of skin slapping filling the four walls delightly. your tits bounce with each rough thrust, his cock sliding into your snug, tight hole repeatedly, abusing your cervix. "got a nice fuckin' ass on you, fawn," chris mumbles lowly, and you couldn't help but yelp when he lands two smacks against your ass, the globes turning a shy hue of red. you felt his cock slide into your plush walls, and you whine at the sensation, the profuse slam of his hips, burying himself into you, the way he reaches his free hand to thumb at your clit in tight circles, it was all too much to handle. he pulls out to where his mushroom tip was nuzzled into your pussy, before slamming back in, causing your body to rock against the bed, making you cry into his pillows, as he kept up the rough pace. "chhriiiss," you whine, looking behind you with a pout, tears rimming your eyes of overstimulation.

"i know, sweet girl, m'close too," he murmurs, smiling as he grunts softly, feeling you clench around him tightly, clamping on his dick, your airy moans filling the small room. "cuuum, cum, i-gon-" you babble out, your hands flailing softly as you screech into the pillows, a ring of white smearing around the base of his cock, before he groans loudly, pulling out swiftly, turning you around, stroking himself a few times, spilling his load onto your stomach, he heard your whiny whimpers, before gently patting your pussy, making you jolt as he snaps the elastic of your lacy panties back into place, he stood up straight over the bed, running his thumbs over your pebbled nipples.

© sturnsflirt est. october '24 | my taglist

SWEETHEARTS: @oopsiedaisydeer @xoxochrissgf

[wandixx]

Phantom, the Young Justice member part 4(-ish, I think) they're unconnected, don't wory

Post TUE, but like, right after

“Recognized: Phantom B-08”

Zatanna and Artemis disengaged from the spar, turning to Zeta-Tubes almost in tandem with the rest of the Team. Wally caught himself preparing to the fight.

There was simultaneously a lot and very little Team knew about Phantom. They knew his favorite constellation, his favorite level in Doomed and his typical fast-food order and which parts were better or worse than Nasty Burger in every fast food place they visited. They didn't know whether he was ghost or meta or something else, they didn't know his non-hero name or if he had one at all.

There were things falling somewhere in between on this spectrum.

But they knew for the fact that he wasn't supposed to come in today and that he didn't use Zeta-Tubes unless situation was really dire. Yet even then it usually required a lot of convincing, as seen during whole Klarion-two-Earths debacle. At some point during it, Wally considered how faster would it be if he just asked Phantom to stack up on high- calory food and run to pick him up instead. In the end he didn't say anything, because ghost agreed, sounding like he was just sentenced to the gallows. Understandable, considering his... everything around portals in general, but especially ones that feel like they're taking someone apart. But! The point was, hearing Zeta-Tube call out Phantom was not normal nor a good sign. Fact that they didn't know what was going on or expecting him was unprecedented.

Wally sprinted out to get fire blanket. They owned actual weighted blanket, carefully washed and [wietrzony] to make sure it wasn’t smelling bad to anyone with enhanced senses, but for some reason fire blanket worked on the ghost the best.

He was back before other boy fully settled against wall of the Zeta-Tube, tugging at his hair like he did when he needed to calm down. It’s not like slowly breathing really did anything for him. Wally wrapped him up, making sure it was tight enough that hands he put down would not have room to do any real damage. It tended to happen when he was like this.

Wally very carefully didn’t think about the fact that Phantom didn’t even have enough energy or presence of mind to leave Zeta-Tube even though it was always first thing he did. Even, or maybe especially, when he forgot where he was for a moment.

Rest of the Team crowded around them, talking soft encouragements, rubbing his back and hair, tapping rhythm for him to… just overall ground him, Zatanna made up some ice too. Phantom seemed to shrink away from they’re touch, as much as he could when they were everywhere. Black Canary sharply told them to back away.

They all took few steps back, because something was really wrong and they weren’t helping but they had to try and–

Light erupted from somewhere under the blanket and traveled up and down Phantom’s body. Everyone, including Black Canary, lunged towards the boy, because what was that? What was that? Was Phantom dying in front of all of them?

Tired blue eyes blinked at them from under the shock of black hair. It was still undeniably Phantom, he stood in the same place and looked the same, except of eyes and hair color and lack of general air of otherness, but-

“My name is Danny Fenton, I'm a halfa, half ghost half human hybrid created in specific lab accident and no matter what, if my family ever dies you can't let Vlad Masters become my legal guardian. Doesn't matter if it means court case, kidnapping or murder,” he rushed out, words tumbling over each other, like he made this little formula and learned it by heart and wanted to get it out before he forgot any part of it.

Everyone just… froze for a moment.

And then Phantom started hyperventilating, swaying were he stood, so they jumped back to action, dragging him out of machine and onto some chair M’gann moved in. Black Canary ran him through breathing exercise (Phantom was breathing, Phantom was breathing, Phantom was breathing and it was so wrong Wally felt hair standing on the back of his neck). With mutual effort from Robin, Kaldur and Zatanna, there was a bag of ice in ghost’s (halfa’s?) hands, to help ground him. Artemis tapped on his shoulder in tandem with Canary’s instructions, while Conner run off somewhere. There was fifty/fifty chance he went to get something or just needed to get away. M’gann flew away muttering something about making a tea.

Wally felt really lost but also overwhelmed by the need to do something, so he tried singing (or humming, at least) some songs that you’re supposed to play when resuscitating someone. Then it hit him, that it felt too fast, maybe because his main thing was being fast and he was a bit too wrung out to focus on being slower, maybe because song itself was too fast, he didn’t know. He sang something slower anyway.

He could almost see the moment when Phantom, or Danny, he said his name was Danny, calmed down enough to understand where he was.

“Hello Danny”

The boy slumped a bit and refused to make eye contact with anyone.

“Hi Black Canary”

“Are you quite alright?”

“Who is attacking?” Wally blurted out without really thinking. They needed to know and, honestly, he was known to be the guy who never thought before he spoke.

Pha-nny whipped to look at him, visibly startled, which was not a good look considering he wasn't really epitome of calm even before.

“No one I know about, why would they?” he asked, sounding way too clueless about it.

“You used very quick mode of transportation, that is also really triggering to you,” Kaldur explained patiently, “one that you usually only travel through in case of emergencies—”

“And had panic attack as soon as you showed up which had not happened after first three times, meaning you were already pretty shaken before going in,” Robin interrupted.

“We want to know happened to make you use it this time?”

There was another slow blink.

“No one is attacking anymore. I won. I won. I saved them. I won,” he said, descending into panicked mutter. Black Canary motioned them to move away again, because clearly, crowd was not helping him.

“Hey, breathing is constant demand, don't forget about it,” Artemis snapped.

“Who did you win with? Who did you save?”

Phantom just glanced at Black Canary and got back to staring into middle distance, technically present in mind and body but clearly not fully. Wally didn’t want to know what horrors made him crash so hard. There were few things that could make him stop joking, even less that could do this.

“Would you…” Phantom whispered and then his breath hitched. Ghost just stared at all of them for a moment, jumping from person to person like terrified rabbit, wide eyed and terrified. Something glass or ceramic shattered behind them.

“Oh, Danny”

“M’gann what’s going on?”

“We’re alive Danny,” she said with conviction surprisingly strong with how soft she sounded before “We’re alive and well and whatever you saw or think you saw, it was a lie. We’re alive and well”

“But-”

“He didn’t kill us”

Artemis pushed her way back to the ghost and shook him by his shoulders.

“What happened, Phantom?”

Phantom or well, Danny, looked through her like he was once again recalling something, that shouldn't be in his mind to be recalled.

And then he explained future that won’t happen, with sauce explosions, dead families and court of talking eyes.

And then he made them promise. Wally doubted any of them would be able to keep it, and everyone knew that, but they promised either way.

[fallofthecelestial]

Okay. Since we're going over all the takes on Mr. X at this point.. What if his powers really don't have a backside. What if (the state of) his normal life is the backside.

What if his normal life is akin to that of heroes where he has to pretend to be something he's not and follow rules that the people who control his life came up with to further their own goals. What if he can only be free of other people's beliefs and expectations when he's a hero.

What if in reality he truly is like everyone else. The other heroes. The ordinary people. All those who work themselves to the bone, who are tired and overworked and sick of all the exploitation...

What if when he's in the form of the number one hero.. when he becomes the most sought after product on the hero market..

Is when he gains the freedom to truly be himself