i write on ao3 as anincompletelist & formerly soldouthaz. below you’ll find the links to all of the important things including fics, tag navigation, and more! both this blog and my fics feature 18+ content. no minors, please.
currently writing for: heated rivalry
thanks for stopping by, and enjoy! :D
→ sarah
→ mid 20's
→ she/her
→ chronically ill / autistic
→ 'about me' tag
→ ao3
→ bluesky
→ strawpage
→ twitter (inactive)
→ side blog (for resources, prompts, etc.)
→ general fic recs tag
→ my rec lists
→ my art
→ my rwrb prompts
→ my edits (+ lockcreens)
→ my gifs
→ tag games etc.
all of my writing is currently available on ao3. please do not repost onto any other sites, and please check with me before translating. (podfics are okay and welcome, but still let me know so I can support!)
filter my ao3 by pairing with the links below:
→ firstprince
→ stucky
→ spideypool
→ poolverine
→ hollanov
my fic posts if you'd like to reblog here:
→ my fic posts
wips / snippets / coming soon:
→ wips
challenges etc.:
→ kinktober '24
→ fandom trumps hate '25
→ red white & royal wanderlust
→ kinktober '25
other:
→ my poetry
→ 2025 poetry recommendations
→ depression post
→ rambling + other
total (published) word count as of 05/26: 2,718,084
films + franchises
→ captain america (all)
→ thunderbolts*
→ the maze runner
→ deadpool (all)
→ venom
→ top gun maverick
series + shows
→ teen wolf
→ heartstopper
→ severance
→ yellowjackets
→ daredevil
→ heated rivalry*
*wasn't planning on falling into the hr rabbit hole so fast and I'm shit at tags anyway so all hr cast stuff also falls into this tag -- I'm not trying to make their personal projects about hr I just don't want to have to go back and change all the tags atp sjfgsjhgf x
ships + characters
→ rwrb / firstprince *
→ stucky | bucky barnes | steve rogers
→ symbrock
→ spideypool
→ poolverine
→ sterek
→ newtmas
→ sereshaw
→ markhelly
→ sentryagent
*(rwrb/firstprince posts were previously untagged, but will be moving forward)
music + artists
→ chappell roan
→ renee rapp
→ conan gray
→ role model
→ sabrina carpenter
→ noah kahan
→ erin lecount
→ olivia rodrigo
other
→ until dawn (video game)
→ turtlewithhat
→ poetry
→ once again, this blog is not suitable for minors, as it frequently features or promotes both sexual descriptions and imagery, as well as occasionally violence/other mature themes
→ I am vehemently against ai and it is not used in any part of my creative process, be it writing or art. I do not consent to having any of my published works used to train or support it in any way.
→ **PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY ART ON ANY PLATFORM**
→ I'm not always the best at utilizing my tag system, so please excuse any inconsistencies (I do NOT typically tag for any triggers)
→ feel free to talk to me in the ask box about fic or otherwise, but be kind! (anons are temporarily turned off)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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sarah!!!! it’s taken me a hot sec to send you a wip 🔨 ask (i am in canada !!!!!) but i would LOVE to hear a lil bit of your ‘for a good time call’ fic ;) <333
NO WORRIES MY FRIEND I HOPE CANADA IS TREATING YOU WONDERFULLY :D
--
“You cannot talk about sex,” Ilya observes from the chair adjacent.
Shane blinks, taken aback. “I can talk about sex.”
Ilya cocks a brow. “Oh? So you have had it before?”
“Yes. I’ve had fucking sex before,” he insists, as if he hadn’t nearly choked getting the words out. Defensively, he mutters, “You shouldn’t just ask people that, by the way.”
“Mm. You are not just people,” Ilya dismisses, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the table and drop his chin into his hand. “Also, how would I know this? It is not obvious. For a man who is helping run a sex hotline, you get very red and embarrassed talking about it.”
“Sex is a natural part of life. It’s not embarrassing.”
He gets a flat look in response. “You read this on a pamphlet somewhere? You memorize it from the Planned Parenthood sign down the street?”
“Fuck you,” Shane laughs.
--
[ send me an ask to help me make headway on my wips, or make your own post to play along yourself! ]
Hi!! Can I ask a bit more about divorced shane x trailer park AU? :)
HERE YOU GO SO SORRY IT HAS TAKEN ME A HOT SECOND FRIEND !!!!!! <33333
--
“That’s not the same thing,” Shane says through his teeth. “You chose to give it up. I didn’t.”
“Maybe you should have,” Ilya replies, too quickly to be anything other than earnest.
The floor of the trailer creaks underneath him when he turns to look over his shoulder. “Excuse me?”
Ilya slides a hand down his face. “Fuck. I did not mean it that way.”
“Then what the fuck did you mean.”
His hand drops back to the bed, mouth working side to side when he looks away, for once at a loss for words. When he does eventually speak, his tone is less sharp than the one before.
“Sometimes... sometimes you do not realize you are allowed to want things until you cannot run from them anymore.”
--
[ send me an ask to help me make headway on my wips, or make your own post to play along yourself! ]
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
but also .. kinktober wild card if it sparks joy 🔨🔨🔨
HOLLANOVA JUST FOR YOU <333
--
“Please,” she whispers.
“Please what?” Rozanova asks, watching her mouth. Jane watches her back.
“Please, just—just…”
She arches a thick, blonde brow. “Kiss you? Touch you? Braid your hair?” Rozanova teases, wrapping Jane’s hair around her finger and tugging until her head pulls to one side. “Come on, Hollander. You are so smart. Use words.”
Use words is entirely unhelpful, Jane thinks, when there are lips on her jaw and a warm hand at her waist, every touch deliberately fleeting, engineered specifically to get her to break. God. What would that be like? To just give in and not give a fuck about what happens afterward? Is this what everybody does?
“My hair’s already braided,” Jane mutters, lashes fluttering against the tops of her cheeks as Rozanova’s mouth drifts to her pulse point.
“It is,” she agrees. The pad of her thumb traces the criss-crossed patterned from her ear down to where the end stops just before the curve of her breast, and Jane’s breath hitches. “I think I would like to see what it looks like down.”
“You saw it in the showers.”
“Yes. Now I want more.” Rozanova’s pink, plush mouth takes a detour, presses firmly to her shoulder before tugging at her waist. “Turn around.”
--
[ send me an ask to help me make headway on my wips, or make your own post to play along yourself! ]
Every Monday and Thursday he waits for the one third from the wall to be open, and then dials two phone numbers in succession. He leans with his elbow bent on top of it, forehead pressed to the fold, and waits a handful of seconds each time before he hangs up, saying nothing. Afterward he’ll stand there until someone else needs the spot, seeming to need the time to collect himself, and then he leaves.
This is a routine that’d taken Ilya weeks to pick up on. Sometimes he wasn’t in the room to see it, other times he’d been distracted or hadn’t thought much of it. It feels accidentally sacred, to have uncovered this. And it isn't like it's Ilya's place to judge. Grief makes people do strange things, and there is certainly enough to go around in here.
But however long it’d taken him to recognize the pattern, it takes only seconds to notice the day that it unravels.
--
[ send me an ask to help me make headway on my wips, or make your own post to play along yourself! ]
would love to see more of your major depressive disorder ilya fic!
OF COURSE!! a lot of it's pretty heavy so here's a somewhat neutral part sjhgfsjhgf x
--
“He needs a fucking hospital,” Shane hisses.
“He does not want the hospital,” Svetlana insists, her back to him still. “He will be alone, and they will force pills down his throat, and if the press finds out, it will not be good for him.”
“Fuck the press.”
She spins to face him sharply enough that he nearly flinches. “That’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
Shane snaps his mouth closed.
--
[ send me an ask to help me make headway on my wips, or make your own post to play along yourself! ]
trailer park ilya and divorced shane PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE also kinktober section if you're feeling up for it🤠🤠🤠
WELL YESSSSSSSS :D
--
He lets himself picture it for a moment: evenings that end just like this one, cold beer sweating in his palm, shins dirty from kicking the ball around with the kids in the park, the former tan line where Shane’s wedding ring used to be nothing more than a memory now. Plenty of room for Ilya to put one there in its place one day, maybe.
He pours fuel into the fire and glances over at Shane to memorialize it. The humidity has made his hair lay flat against his forehead, held in place by the hat he’d spun backward sometime around the swell of afternoon heat. It’s made his face pink, brings out the smattering of summer freckles across his nose. He’s sweating underneath the flannel of Ilya’s shirt, the collar damp like his upper lip as he lifts the neck of the bottle again. There’s a lovebite peeking out near his shoulder, the kind they don’t have to hide anymore, and Ilya knows there are matching ones on his hip, the inside of his thigh; everywhere that time and independence have granted him permission to indulge.
Stay, Ilya thinks suddenly. Let me keep discovering things. God. Please don’t ever leave.
It is exactly what he’d thought on his couch in Boston ten years ago.
--
AND KINKTOBER:
--
“It’s so wet,” Hollander says abruptly. It’s like the words just tumble out of him, face bright red, looking the sort of uncomfortable that is doing nothing at all to stop the way Ilya’s cock fills beneath his sweats.
He tries to keep his voice level. “That is normal, Hollander.”
“No, like—really, really wet,” he insists, lowering to a hiss of a whisper. “Sometimes it feels like—it’s like I pissed myself. I had to change twice since we talked earlier. That cannot be normal.”
“Hm,” Ilya hums. “What are you thinking about when you get this wet?”
“None of your business,” he pushes through his teeth. Glances somewhere over Ilya’s shoulder.
“You are in locker room, maybe? With your team? Hoping they will not notice?” Ilya asks, teasing his fingertips beneath the band of Hollander’s boxers. “Or maybe in your little outfits and makeup for your commercials? Maybe you are discussing boring business plan with your parents and—”
“Don’t be fucking gross,” Hollander bites.
Ilya snaps the band against his hip until he yelps. “Tell me.”
--
[ send me an ask to help me make headway on my wips, or make your own post to play along yourself! ]
Hi Sarah! Happy Sunday! Can I ask for a snippet from one of your kinktober fics for the wip game please? (you are so prepared!) 💖
YOU MAY <33333 (they are mostly half written do not let me fool you !!!!!! jhdgfjshgf)
--
Really? Shane types. You’re big enough to hold me down?
Immediately, he receives: Yes.
He chews at his lip, biting down on the too-sharp edge of a private grin. How do I know?
You don’t believe me?
How much do you bench? Shane asks.
The response this time is just as swift. Shane’s heart drops into his stomach as his exact weight stares back at him from the screen—the one from just this morning, when he’d checked in his bathroom at home. The one no one else has seen but him.
The back of his neck erupts in pinpricks, goosebumps lining his arms. His phone pings again in his hand.
Believe me now?
--
[ send me an ask to help me make headway on my wips, or make your own post to play along yourself! ]
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
May I please request a fresh slice of Prison fic AU 🫶 :)))
OFCCCC <3
I got carried away editing this part when I went to the doc so this is definitely more than 100 words sorry ksjhgdfjsgf x
cw: implied violence
--
“Hey—what the fuck!” Barrett spits, blood staining the concrete floor at their feet.
Ilya grabs the shirt at his shoulders where he’s bent over clutching his mouth and shoves him up against the wall, the ringing in his ears just almost loud enough to drown out the sound of jingling keys and heavy boots rounding the corner.
He bares his teeth. “You don’t fucking touch him.”
“He came up to me, man!”
Shane clutches at the painted gray brick of the wall as he gets to his feet, wiping his mouth with one hand while he darts the other out to wrap around Ilya’s bicep and tug. The blood, the adrenaline, the white of Ilya’s knuckles straining against the blur of plain, khaki cotton and pale skin—it makes something rotten stir behind his ribs, the world tunneling around him.
“Sorry,” Shane chokes, both hands on him now, trying to pull him in. “I’m sorry, Ilya, please—”
“Rozanov!” comes a bark from down the hall, a blur of dark uniforms headed their way. Shane’s head whips over his shoulder, and then he turns completely to put himself in between Ilya and the COs.
“No. No—it was my fault. I started it, I—”
One of them grunts, shoving him out of the way. “Back off, Hollander.”
It takes a minute of them jostling him around and separating them for the feeling to return to his fingers, for pain to kick in, to register the shock on Barrett’s face and the tremble of Shane’s chin, eyes wide and wet and trusting, somehow, even now.
--
[ send me an ask to help me make headway on my wips, or make your own post to play along yourself! ]
