Hi, hello, or as the brilliant and psychotic Jason Dean once said, greetings and salutations. You can address me as Raven, Kaius, or Rev, or Klaus if you’re a particular sleepy potato. I like neon flashy things almost as much as I like decrepit graveyards. Also dinosaurs.
As the banner suggests, I am elbow-deep in more WIPs than I know what to do with, and many of them contain vampires and jackasses [affectionate].
While I am trying to focus on no more than one or two at a time this year, chances are my attention will stray away from that goal and I will end up with even more WIPs than the year began with.
Here are my main projects right now … there are many more, but these are the ones I am focusing on at present :
a struggling alcoholic raised by his adoptive mothers is kicked out of the house when one of them decides to open an in-home daycare and needs all the space she can get. jobless and desperate, he moves in with his estranged father, soon to discover this reconnection was a terrible and life-threatening mistake.
an elaborate liar named java is frequently teetering on the precipice of danger and poor decisions until he finds himself on a promising path of self-improvement while living with his brother … just to veer off that path the moment he meets a charming facade named colt and lands himself in a world of drugs and deception.
there’s a new drug in town and it’s turning users into bloodthirsty vampires that crave the neon substance and its supernatural side effects. a detective and his android partner—both on and off duty, though unofficially—set out to end this endemic while trying and failing to dodge noxiglow’s temptations
📝 Share the last line you added to a WIP (or a last chapter line, or the last line you edited, or the last whatever works for you)
I haven’t written or edited anything since the last time I did one of these, so here’s today’s Bluesky microfiction (the tag is #vss365 and the prompt is life)…
There’s a quote from a film, something about how #life finds a way. And I want to believe it. I really do. But it’s been eighteen weeks and more empty roads than I can count. I woke from a coma to silence like a fucking Hollywood cliché and if this is the apocalypse, I am not impressed.
Reblogs, replies etc on my tag posts are always welcome, but if you’re doing this tag yourself, please make your own post instead of using mine to start a reblog chain.
from lemonade hiatus, a side project while i edit press start
Shaking his head to dislodge the train preparing to derail, Jem finally comes to a stop. Stares at the end of the bed, at the wrinkled blankets countless people have slept under, fucked upon, and frowns because he’s not likely to be doing either.
Hasn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours. Too damn antsy and hopeful. That hope’s burning out quicker than Jem can relight it, but fuck if he isn’t determined.
Still, he kicks off his shoes—an old, worn pair of black and white Chuck Taylors that, although faded, still has Tobie’s i<3u scrawled in Sharpie along the left’s front sole-and rips off his socks. Tosses those aside. His pants are next to come off, left on the dingy carpet where he steps out of them.
His checkered blue and gray hoodie stays on. It smells like Sloane, like cinnamon and autumn leaves, like his embrace is still lingering in the fabric and thread, and there’s a residual kick of cigarette smoke somewhere in the sleeves that reminds Jem of Delia.
having adhd is like, I know for a fact that, if I simply start and engage my brain, this task is extremely manageable and should only take 5 minutes to complete. however
Share an excerpt that shows the relationship dynamic between two characters.
Romantic relationships, sibling bonds, mentor-mentee, whatever—share an excerpt that helps us understand how two of your characters interact! If you have a post that shares more info about your WIP, feel free to link it!
Rem’s more than a little tipsy when he’s reached his destination, guided there by memory and a pang of emptiness he dares to call lust. He struggles to steady his hand enough to knock, arms trembling from the cold. It’s a stuttering sound, but enough to disturb the silence around him, and hopefully enough to be heard from within.
He waits with an edge of impatience, snowflakes gathering on his lashes as he stares at the door and questions if he should just turn and leave.
But sound from behind the door jolts his thoughts back to why he’s here. Unannounced, but surely not unwelcome.
The door creaks open, a thin chain spreading across the small gap, allowing a burst of heat out into the night. Rem savors it when he peeks in at Jonah. Who stares back at him from underneath a tousled mess of haphazard hair. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
“You expecting someone else?”
Jonah blinks. Shakes his head. “No? It’s … fuck, what time is it?”
Rem shrugs. Doesn’t know. Doesn’t care. All he cares about right now is getting his hands and mouth on Jonah. If he’s willing. “Gonna let me in?”
That’s all it takes for Jonah to slide the lock open, push the door further inward, and step aside to let Rem in.
Sibling dynamics are kind of an untapped gold mine in media. Relationships between siblings can be so weird. We experienced the same childhood but in very different ways. I helped raise you. You helped raise me. You’re the only person I’ve ever really punched. You drive me fucking crazy but if anyone ever hurt you I’d chase them to the ends of the earth. You’re the only one who understands what it was like to see our parents slowly come to hate one another. Stop stealing my fucking socks.
ALT
