#tricksexual

[castorrel]

Commission for @tricksexual of their character Trick! He was a lot of fun to draw, thank you again for commissionning me :D

[kd-holloman]

Good morning, I miss my sons while I do life-things instead of writing, so here's a tidbit for my friends!

MaM3 D1

Tag List (ask to be added/removed): @tricksexual, @wildler, @ganseyboii, @surrealirist, @obsessionandstuff, @pertinax--loculos, @pe-ersona, @a-curator-of-nonsense, @angelolytle, @lordkingsmith, @gloriafrimpong

[awsugar]

🎵 Perfect by Torrian Ball 💖

stifled; the story so far

this song reminds me of someone who used to be my best friend and is still kind of my best friend but we don’t see each other much anymore because she moved away but we do see each other whenever she comes home and its like no time has passed..this was her favorite tssf song at one point it might still be im not sure. we used to get in the car and drive around this one neighborhood smoking weed and whoever wasn’t driving would pick the music. we’d get in the car and say to the other ‘do you wanna do a tune?’ (code word for please take my phone and put something on. we still know the password to each other’s phones literally for this purpose) we have all the same favorite bands so i don’t feel pressured when i get the aux. except she’s not an mcr fan. but that’s ok we listen to a lot of other stuff like this! i miss those nights a lot.

[bookenders]

Hey girlie!! I was wondering if you would write a short prose piece on my url, tricksexual? I literally can't wait to see what you come up with, because everything that comes out of your fingertips is fantastic.

Happy Giving Thanks Day!

Life got a bit bananas, so apologies this is so late, @tricksexual. But it’s here! Happy New Year!

Title: “Double Twist”

Word Count: 1,423

CW: strong language, thighs, and lots of pining

And it was the twist, the jackknife hip flex, a cymbal crash of knees and elbows pulling her up and over, hitting hands strong on the bend, heaving out and around. Momentum cast her from the bar, back and back below ankle bend to bounce, grab, push and pull herself up, arms loose and strong, eyes locked ahead, breath heaving.

“Fuuuck,” Laney breathed, skate bag slung over her shoulder, her white figures dangling from her fingers.

Gabriel, her pairs partner for the past eleven years, socked her in the shoulder.

“Go talk to her.”

Laney scoffed. “You can’t just talk to people, Gabe.”

Her eyes never left the gymnast as she flung herself between the bars.

“That’s illegal,” she muttered as the woman launched into an impossibly twisting dismount, thighs straining with a cleanly stuck landing, arms poised overhead. “Jesus.”

“What,” Gabe said over her shoulder, “are you feeling inadequate? Out-classed? Out-flipped?” He spun around to stand in front of her, interrupting her staring. “Has she seen our triple twist?”

“No, and she never will.” Laney glared at him, implying a threat she was all to happy to follow through on, but Gabe just smirked.

He tossed a glance over his shoulder at the small gaggle of gymnasts on the other side of the gym, watched one demonstrate a move with her hands to the woman who just finished her routine.

“Name?”

“Allison,” Laney said. “Parallel bars and balance beam.”

“Hot.”

“For the love of God,” she cursed, and dragged Gabriel, now openly laughing at her blooming blush, out of the gym.

Neither of them stuck around long enough to see Allison watch them go.

Breathing heavy, legs shaking from her fifth double toe in a row (not under rotated this time, thank you very much), Laney dragged her hands across the back of her neck, rubbing her sore muscles. Off-ice training wasn’t her favorite, but it was necessary if she didn’t want to hurt herself more than the crash pads could protect her from. And if she wanted to nail her landings, but that was a given.

Halfway through her cool down routine, Laney looked up from her place on the floor to find Allison standing a few feet away, gym bag over her shoulder, one hand clutching the strap and the other shoved into the pocket of her sweatpants. A faded Carly Rae Jepsen concert tee covered the top of her sparkly purple leotard.

“Hey.”

Laney, flat on her back with her left thigh nearly flush to her chest, sputtered out a surprised, “oh, hi.”

Allison smiled. “You’re a figure skater, right?” She shifted her weight, leaning on her right foot, and Laney was staring at her thighs oh my God please pay attention.

“Um,” said Laney.

“That’s really cool.”

Brain finally catching up to what was going on, Laney switched legs and coughed. “Thanks. I mean,” she said, scrambling for something, anything to add to the conversation, “not as cool as bars, but we can’t all be super good at flips and stuff.”

Eloquent.

“From what I’ve seen of your workouts, you’re pretty good at flips and stuff, too.”

A group of absolutely ripped high-ponytailed ladies called Allison’s name. She looked down at Laney, still flat on the floor, sweaty and flushed, and smiled.

“I gotta go. See you later?”

“Sure,” Laney managed.

She had a perfect view as Allison walked away.

The next few days found Laney and Allison smiling and waving when they saw each other arrive at the gym.

It was hard for Allison to focus on her routine when at least three of her teammates made kissy faces at her whenever she mounted the balance beam. Not to mention the looks she got when they caught Laney looking from the open space where she and her pairs partner practiced their lifts. Jessica took it upon herself to elbow her every time Laney was at the leg press.

On Thursday, while Allison was going through her beam routine step by step, slow as she could manage, Laney and her partner arrived for their evening off-ice session with their coach. The moment Laney disappeared into the locker room, her partner jogged over.

“You’re the parallel bars girl, yeah?”

“You’re the figure skating boy,” she said.

“Gabe.”

“Allison.”

She jumped and twisted sideways into a handstand, letting her legs fall into a split, calm and collected. It’s not that she was trying to show off, but.

“Well, shit,” Gabe said.

“What’s up?” Her left hand floated up beside her hip, her right bearing the full weight of her body.

Gabe blinked and gathered himself with all the grace of a baby giraffe. “Uh, we’re at the rink tomorrow morning. At eight.”

Surprise wobbled Allison’s arm. She carefully lowered herself down, legs straight up, pressing her chest to the bar before swiveling to a sitting position.

“You should stop by,” he said, walking backwards toward the locker rooms. “If you’re free, and all.” Halfway across the gym he turned and called out, “I know someone who might be happy to see you.”

It only took a moment for one of Allison’s teammates to mime kissy faces at her intense blush. What she didn’t expect - but honestly, she really should have - was the enthusiastic shoulder punch retaliation from the frazzled gymnast, who was already thinking of which sweatpants to pair with tomorrow’s leotard.

When she walked down the hallway toward the rink, Allison wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Classical music, maybe, or something from a musical. Not Carly Rae.

They were in the middle of their routine, feet carving the ice, spinning dizzy in tandem before Gabe grabbed her arm and pulled her into a turn. He took her waist in his hands, she gripped his wrists, slid a leg down and back, and a twist, launching her into the air in a whirlwind before she hit down, dipping low, flinging her arms out to catch the wind and curl into the corner of the rink. Gabe matched her movements.

Allison could imagine the sequins, the flair of a skirt spiraling into a landing, the crash of metal on ice spraying snow at the stands. It didn’t take much.

It also didn’t take much to send Gabe tripping in a heap to the ground, blade catching on Laney’s and sending him tumbling, nearly taking her with him. They laughed, and Gabe flapped his arms, making a snow angel on his back in the center of the ice.

They both turned at the sound of excited clapping.

“That was amazing!” Allison called out into the cold.

Laney froze. Gabe threw a thumbs-up straight into the air.

“Thank you for your patronage,” he replied. “Laney, please greet our guest while I peel myself off the ice.”

“That was amazing,” Allison said again, quieter this time as Laney slid over to where she stood at the boards. “Is that your routine?”

“Program,” Laney said, the automatic correction slipping out before she could stop it. “Er, yeah. One of the two for this season. The longer one. It’s a, uh, work in progress.”

“He just threw you into the air. Like it was nothing.” Allison’s eyes dipped down to Laney’s skates before quickly flicking back up to her eyes.

Did she just—

“It took a lot of practice, believe me.”

“Rude,” Gabe yelled across the rink. He was skating slow figures in the far corner, black workout pants covered in snow.

Allison smiled and fiddled with the hem of her sweatshirt. “I like your music, too.”

“I know.”

Shit, wait.

“I mean, I saw your shirt.”

“Oh, yeah, I got it at one of her concerts. When she was in town for a show.”

“Give her your number,” Gabe yelled.

Both of them went ripe as tomatoes.

“Uh—”

“Well—”

“You first,” Laney said, resisting the urge to cover her face with her hands.

“I’ll let you get back to practice. But you should definitely teach me some of those tricks. I’ve always wanted to learn.” And she handed Laney a slip of paper with ten numbers and her name.

“Yeah. Definitely. Whenever you want.”

“Great. Cool.” She just stood there for a moment, before mumbling, “have a good practice, bye.”

And she was gone.

Gabe coasted up behind Laney, hands in his pockets.

“I’m so proud of you, you little disaster.”

Laney turned and pushed him backwards, sending him careening across the ice, laughing.

“If you drop me after all that I will murder you.”

Want more original fiction?  Take a gander at my original writing tag and my short stories tag!

For writing advice and observations, check out my advice tag.

Want info on my WIPs? Have a look-see at my WIP page!

Do you like the way I put words together? Consider buying me a Ko-Fi! (Link in my blog description!)

Want to be added to my original fiction tag or my WIP tags? Let me know! 😊

Originals Tag List: @piratequeenofpixies, @quilloftheclouds, @snickertoodles, @half-explored, @purpleshadows1989, @ofvisitorsthefairest, @theevolutionofledarose, @kriss-the-writing-nerd, @waterfallwritings, @abalonetea, @timefire25, @metaphors-and-melodrama

[lettersandinkstains]

Gemma/Mel from @bookenders beautiful WIP, Heart to Heart. I’m literally always thinking about them and it makes me wanna cry.

@bookenders // awwwww ♥♥♥♥!!!

[toomanystoryideas]

Heyyyy!! Plz tell me about your favorite character to write for. Are they a big dumb or heckin smart? Do they rave or are they a wallflower? What’s their favorite color? And after you gush about them, what drew you to them in the first place? 💖💖 sending you lots of love!

Thank you so much for the ask!!! 💕💞💝

I’m not working on a long project rn (actually I’m writing a short story a day for 2 months with another writeblr!!) But one character i created today and will possibly revisit is Cassidy from my group of short stories titled Sisterhood (search #sisterhood on my blog for it) :D

Cass is heckin street smart and fighting smart with brilliant observational skills but big dumb at emotions and reading people so that poses a few problems 😅

She’s also definitely a wallflower because she’s spent most of her life alone so she’s very good at blending into the shadows and making sure she isn’t noticed easily

Her favorite color is green!!

I think what drew me to wanting to write about Cass was the contrast between her and a similar character, Riley—they have similar skill sets but completely different upbringings and their personalities play off each other in a super dynamic way that I love ❤️

Lots of love to you too!!!!! ❣️💗💘💓

[livvywrites]

Hey!! Congrats on the 300 followers

thank you!!

[pens-swords-stuff]

Hey! I saw your 4-5k celebration and even if you weren’t doing a little giveaway, I’d come and tell you that you are well and truly amazing. I love every aspect of your blog and how active you are with your followers. You are so skilled at your craft and always make an effort to post tips, which I always find useful. You really deserve all the followers and all the nice things that everyone is sending you 💖 my writeblr is @matterovermindpodcast, but it’s okay if you don’t get to it!!

Thank you so much, this is so kind of you to say!

One of the things that I really admire about your writing is your attention and mastery of visual details. I’m personally really bad at them, but you do such a wonderful job of sprinkling in tiny, almost-seemingly-insignificant-but-really-effective little visual imagery that really bring a sense of life to your writing, and gives it more depth.

4k / 5k Follower Celebration: Let me celebrate you!

[nmcwriting]

Hey! I started reading from chapter 17 of cosmicity and I'm in love. I'm gonna work on catching up, but I was wondering if you could add me to your taglist? Thank you so much!!!

hey, thank you so much for your interest, i really appreciate it!! unfortunately, cosmicity isn’t being posted in its entirety so there’s not much for you to read, but i would be happy to add you to my taglist for future excerpts and more!

[the-real-rg]

I'm in love with Burn Says the Martyr! Will you please add me to your taglist?? I have a mighty need!!!!

Of course! You’ll be tagged with any future posts~

[dreadwvlfscript]

The blooded eagle post completely reeled me into your story. Will you add me to your taglist? Thanks so much!!

Oh my goodness, yes of course! Thank you so much! The Blooded Eagle is a wild character to write because there’s always that big monster in a horror piece and doing that type of character any sort of justice is hard. Added!

[castorrel]

Commission for @tricksexual of their friend's character Amora!

[kd-holloman]

It's been a minute, so here's a little teaser for The King's Collapse (MaM3 for those wondering). I'm approx 62k into the second draft and have approximately 30k left. (Hopefully. I'm trying to trim it down.)

Tag List (ask to be added/removed): @tricksexual, @wildler, @ganseyboii, @surrealirist, @obsessionandstuff, @pertinax--loculos, @pe-ersona, @a-curator-of-nonsense, @angelolytle, @lordkingsmith , @gloriafrimpong

[thewrittenpost]

Bloop!

Send “Bloop” to my inbox and I’ll spout a random fun fact about one of my OCs

Name Hat gave us Gwendolyn, so here goes!

Gwendolyn isn't fond of dogs. She won't say she's afraid of them, but she keeps a healthy distance from them all -big or small- and definitely doesn't seek them out!

[bookenders]

When you get this you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool!!)

Absotutely, friend. Let’s do this.

I’m a decent cook! That’s a new skill I’ve been workin’ on.

I have a ridiculous amount of empathy.

I just chopped all my hair off and I’m loving how I look with an asymmetrical curly bob. (Donate if you can, folks!)

I had the bravery to tackle my mental health issues after years of being afraid that doing so would change me. It didn’t - it just made me less of an anxious wreck. Hooray!

I am an excellent improviser. 

[lettersandinkstains]

#16 for a character of your preference! 💖

Their fingers are loosely clinging together, there’s no cling--no tight grasp of I am here, I am always here. Of course, people fall out of love all the time! It’s just a normal cycle of life, and they will move on. And they will meet other people who they will love for a fleeting time--or perhaps for eternity. But yet, there is a wish, a longing for that eternity to be with them.

But there is no going back is words fumble out, bitter and quiet. There is that moment where at first, their fingers graze, they linger. They don’t want to let go, but out of their own mouth returns the same sentiment, liquid spilling over and onto the freckled face their partner wrote constallations about.

Don’t go, don’t go.

And with a helplessness, the momentary fleeting of love, the few years they had together all disappears out of a door that quietly shuts--such a vast difference than the last few where their apartment was a symphony of words yelled, that would only echo and chorus, where poison would slip underneath their skin and stay. The percussions was slamming doors, cabinets and glass would shake, and that would be the end of it.

Treaties would be signed for only a little while.

And don’t go, don’t go ends with goodbye, goodbye. May we meet in another life.

16. “Hollow hands”