#writing pride tag game

[ladykettlechips]

✍🏼 Writing pride tag game

Thank you for the tag @rosesatdawn24, I adore you 😘😘😘

I think as writers we sometimes beat ourselves up a bit, so it's good to share with others what we like from our own writing. So I'm actually picking something from my most recent fic, Beautiful Mess, specifically from Chapter 5 and the Epilogue. Even though this was a really easy fic to write and didn't have any planning, it has a few lines I really like in it. Actually, it's the dialogue I like most of all as opposed to actual writing (lol).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy my choice. You can read Beautiful Mess in full here if you wish~ ---------------------

And then he kissed her again, a breathless, wonderful assault of bruising lips as his arms tightened around her in a crushing bid to never let her go. Kate didn’t care, though; all she wanted was to be consumed by him and only him.

Pulling back, Kate watched how Anthony’s eyes sparkled for her, the pain melting away with each affirmation of love spoken and each kiss shared.

“Now you know better,” Anthony said, his voice low as he tugged he lifted a hand to cradle her face. Kate could only nod, her cheek pressing into the warmth of his palm as she smiled back up at him, happy and bright and finally his.

“Now I know better,” she confirmed, her heart swelling with nothing but love, adoration and desire for this annoying, beautiful man that held her in his arms.

---------------------

And from the chapter that follows this one:

---------------------

Another sigh, another tug of her waist until she was practically wrapped around him. She felt Anthony nose her hair for a moment before he was pressing his forehead against hers, his eyes boring into her own. The dimple between his brows seemed deeper, Kate thought.

“I know. I know,” he whispered, the tip of his nose gently nudging hers. “But you didn’t, and that’s okay, Kate; we all have ways to keep ourselves safe.” She could feel his grip tighten on her, his fingers digging into her hip when he took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, as if recalling the worst morning of his life.

“In that moment, running made sense. It’s how you kept yourself safe, Kate, and I can never blame you for that.”

---------------------

I am doing a gentle tappy tag to @doodlingawaits and whoever else wishes to take part~ No pressure, of course ❤️

[liauditore]

Equally Invalid

[avaseofpeonies]

🦁🦁Pride of Lines Writing Share🦁🦁

Rules: post a line you are extra proud of having written. One where you surprised yourself, that had you especially satisfied with your writing skills, or got you all up in your own intended feels.

I wrote this one a few days ago and gave myself a little heart ba-dump 🥰

"Gavrekh looked at Kyrzhan’s smiling lips, then at the apple, his eyes filled with unmistakable desire – whether for the lips or the apple Kyrzhan couldn’t bear to guess."

~~A Drink Before Battle, Extra 1: Ancestor Night

ADBB Intro Post

Show off your proudest moments! Gently tagging all my writers (plus OPEN TAG of course, the more the merrier!)

@floofymeow, @gioiaalbanoart, @the-golden-comet, @bafflinghaze

@ladymoonpearl, @wyked-ao3, @dyoniawrites, @topazadine

@moonsbetween, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @inseasofgreen

@starbuds-and-rosedust, @ryns-ramblings, @agirlandherquill

@steadfastmockingbird, @thesorcerersapprentice, @tragicheirs

@drchenquill, +OPEN TAG

[the-golden-comet]

✨Friday Kiss and Writing Bliss Tag 💋🏴‍☠️✨

Happy Friday, lovelies! ❤️✨

Thank you all to the following people who have tagged me this week: @sableglass for writing share, @wyked-ao3 for a five lines tag and out of context line tag, @avaseofpeonies , @theink-stainedfolk , @drchenquill , @gioiaalbanoart , and @wyked-ao3 for a Pride of Lines tag, @jev-urisk and @pippinoftheshire for a WIP Wednesday tag, and @aintgonnatakethis and @gioiaalbanoart for a Last Line Tag! I appreciate everyone who has tagged me. Thank you so much!! 🙏💛✨

It is time to commence the smoochin’ 💋✨

Rules: From your Story/WIP, share a kiss. It can be any kiss, from familial pecks on the cheek, forehead kisses, platonic smooches, to full-blown makeouts.

If you don’t have a kiss to share, no worries! You can treat this tag like a writing share instead! ✨

Rules: Share a snippet of your Story/WIP!

Fives lines, where I am VERY proud of the kiss, comes from none other than Peter Hart. Some of you may remember this one from a last line tag in the past, but I think about these last five lines often, and I am very proud of these pirates 🏴‍☠️💛✨

Benjamin’s gentle voice was so sweet to Peter’s ears, that he wished to hear it forevermore. Catching that sweet tune in his own mouth, Peter’s lips sealed themselves over Benjamin’s and gulped those lilting cries effortlessly down his throat, as if swallowing the sweetest rum.

The prince was, in Peter’s mind, long overdue for some love in his life. And, as a good captain would patch up a leak in his ship, Captain Hart was set on repairing every hole in the prince’s heart….until the scarring of the hull, the weaknesses and damages……were long gone. For a bird with clipped wings cannot fly, nor sing as freely as his heart yearned to soar in the sky.

Leaving the tag +open as always and gently alerting the tag list. Happy smoochin, everybody! 💋❤️✨

Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -)

@autism-purgatory , @jev-urisk , @talesofsorrowandofruin , @ragin-cajun-fangirl , @wyked-ao3 ,

@glasshouses-and-stones , @alinacapellabooks , @gioiaalbanoart , @tragedycoded , @deanwax ,

@dyrewrites , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @paeliae-occasionally , @lychhiker-writes ,

@thatuselesshuman , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @phynewrites , @zackprincebooks , @fantasy-things-and-such ,

@finickyfelix , @billybatsonmylove , @madi-konrad , @houseplantblank , @far-cry-from-finality ,

@froggy-pposto , @fractured-shield , @avaseofpeonies , @topazadine , @thecoolerlucky ,

@theaistired , @somethingclevermahogony , @noxxytocin , @the-inkwell-variable , @seastarblue ,

@leahnardo-da-veggie , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @illarian-rambling , @mysticstarlightduck , @the-letterbox-archives ,

@ominous-feychild , @saturnine-saturneight , @words-after-midnight , @sableglass , @cowboybrunch ,

@yourpenpaldee , @moltenwrites , @pixies-love-envy , @davycoquette , @writeahurricane ,

@nczaversnick , @greenfinchwriter , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @lavender-gloom , @smellyrottentrees ,

@aintgonnatakethis , @thecomfywriter , @pluppsauthor , @michellekarnold , @flurrysahin ,

@authorcoledipalo , @jadeglas , @spookyceph , @astramachina , @48lexr ,

@inseasofgreen , @agirlandherquill , @saebasanart , @leatafandom , @justabigoldnerd ,

@pippinoftheshire , @just-emis-blog, @aalinaaaaa , @badscientist , @dearunreliablenarrator ,

@worlds-tallest-fairy , @rhikasa , @eccaiia , @theink-stainedfolk , @theverumproject ,

@theprissythumbelina , @riveriafalll , @revenancy , @inadequatecowboy , @amielbjacobs ,

@patternwelded-quill , @sugarchains , @garthcelyn , @prettytothink-so , @the-inkwell-variable ,

@winvyre , @speaknowbuckley , @lamuradex , @wintherlywords , @sharkblizzardblogs ,

@dragoninatrenchcoat , @darekasama

[aalinaaaaaa]

Pride of Lines Tag

Share lines/an except that you're proud of!

Thanks to @seastarblue for the tag! This snippet comes from my latest Flash Fiction Friday piece :D

Death marked its first strokes on her face. Orlaith traced her fingers over the corners of her eyes, tugging at the faint lines accentuating them. If Death was a sculptor, those touched by mortality its clay. It started as it pleased, carving lines from her eyes and more across the forehead. A reminder, perhaps, of the ticking clock. Her forebearers sealed the doors for a reason, the Mark’s clause a reason more. In the mirror she saw Morilast’s legacy in her eyes.

—

Sending tags to @bardic-tales @winterandwords @finickyfelix @honeybewrites @aquadestinyswriting @gioiaalbanoart @thepeculiarbird and an open tag for anyone who sees this!

[meluiloth]

First Line Tag!

I was tagged by @dreambigdreamz to share the first line of my writing! I decided I'd share the first lines of each of my fics because I couldn't decide on one.

Traitor:

“Do you know how the Orcs came to be?”

Misfit:

What a night for such a bitter breaking.

Healing Hands:

“You’ll be all right soon,” Eyrell murmured to her patient as she dabbed at the ugly sword wound with a wet rag.

I try to have the first lines of my books be an introduction to the story - and not just in the literal 'this is the first line one reads, of course it's the introduction' sense, but sort of a glimpse of what kind of story it is, who the main character is, and what the main conflict is. I doubt the lines I've showed you do all of that at once, but I do hope you're curious enough to go read the rest (each book is linked in their name), and let me know what you think of these first lines!

Tagging @konartiste, @frodothefair, @acornsandoaktrees, @sotwk, @saephrond, @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras

[space-writes]

writing pride tag

tagged by @aalinaaaaaa, thank you! im having a blast writing the absolutely heinous bit of Vizaeth/Pharaun toxic delight at the end of the next Obsession fic, so here’s an excerpt from the rough draft that im proud of right now:

[ID - a red decorative divider]

“So now you’re bedding halfbreeds,” Pharaun begins. “Is there anything you won’t let fuck you, or will I have a troglodyte in my quarters tomorrow night?” He’s so beautiful when he’s angry. That flush of frustration and righteousness, the way his lip curls, his chin tilts. Just the way a drow should look when insulted. “Keep sending me to steal things without giving me all the information, and it’ll be a demon in your bed,” Vizaeth says, hopping up to perch on the edge of Pharaun’s desk. He picks up the vial of violet powder, turning it in his fingers. “Did you want me caught or killed this time?” “Both would have been a rather lovely treat.” Pharaun snatches the vial from him, then sweeps up the others, shoving them into a desk drawer. Vizaeth climbs properly onto the desk, sitting up on his knees so he can meet Pharaun’s eyes. Pharaun’s hand leaves the drawer and goes to his throat. “You can’t do anything to me,” Vizaeth whispers through the grip. He lays his hand over Pharaun’s heart. “You’re mine.” “You think I won’t find a way to break a geas laid by an apprentice as incompetent as you?” Pharaun says, leaning so close their lips brush. Heat shivers down Vizaeth’s spine. “Your Weave is rotting and so will your spell.” “But it hasn’t yet,” Vizaeth whispers. Pharaun’s eyes nearly glow, dark and angry and red. “It hasn’t yet,” he grits out, and pulls Vizaeth’s mouth to his.

[ID - a red decorative divider]

Obsession taglist: @foxboyclit (ask to be +/-)

no-pressure tagging @revenancy @winterandwords @zmwrites and @cwritesfiction

[fayes-fics]

✍🏼 Writing pride tag game

📝 Post a snippet you are extra proud of having written

Thank you so much for the tag @colettebronte

This was a bit of a thinker as I usually only see the flaws in my writing tbh 😬

I suppose so far, I’m proudest of When The World Is Free and Mrs Bridgerton. Maybe because they are in some ways so removed from the world of Bridgerton, they feel closer to original pieces? Maybe? Idk. Anyway…

Here’s a snippet from When The World Is Free that came out exactly as I wanted it to:

Later that day, you are perusing books in Anthony’s office when a painting of a man who looks remarkably like Benedict makes you stop short. Violet seems to materialise beside you.

“My husband, Edmund,” she explains, her voice wistful and evocative of the ache of lost love, undulled by the passage of time. “True love is a wondrous thing; never let it slip through your fingers, and treasure every moment,” she counsels, twisting to look at your face.

“I would never,” you answer quietly, even as you steadfastly refuse to do the same, staring at the painting, heart speeding up.

“That’s a good thing, my dear, and don’t worry about the judgement of others, especially those who are spirited and headstrong.” She can only be referring to Eloise: “They all come around eventually, believe me.”

At that, you have to look at her askance, unable to hide the nerves on your face. “You know?” unable to resist any longer.

“I know my children better than they know themselves,” she responds lightly, “and I certainly know when they are hiding something,” she adds softly, saying but not saying so much.

It feels like a weight is lifted from your heart, the undeniable urge to confess to someone - unable to do so to your usual companion.

“I have no idea how to tell Eloise,” you rush out. “This was never my plan, not what I intended to happen,” you clarify. “Benedict sacrificed his future to give me my freedom.”

“You sacrificed yours too…” she gently interrupts.

“But I never wanted mine,” you confess, your eyes drifting back up to the handsome man in the painting as if saying it to Benedict’s dad as much as his mum at your side. “At least, not once I met your son…. I thought I knew what I wanted in life. But I was a fool. And now… I….” you trail off, unable to finish.

“You love him, don’t you?” It’s a delicate, comforting inflexion.

“I can barely believe it myself; it’s been such a short period of time. But yes…” you admit sotto voce, hanging your head as a tear wells in the corner of your eye.

“As I said, I know my children better than they know themselves,” she repeats, wrapping an arm around your back, “and I know when one of them is hopelessly in love.”

Your head jerks up in surprise, and you finally look into her kindly gaze, your heart a kaleidoscope.

“Yes, my dear. It may take him a while to say it,” she qualifies, “but it’s no less true.”

That tear escapes your eye as she pulls you into a motherly hug. Already knowing this will be a secret you keep between you, for now at least.

“Welcome to the family, y/n.”

Zero pressure tagging: @thebabblingbrookenook @rosesatdawn24 @silverhallow and anyone else who wants a go 😁🧡🧡

[trbotunnel]

sarmenti and the polycule he pulled by being autistic

[supersuperdupersecretnerd]

Oh my God, this lore is so dark what

So Urbanshade can include 'making deals with Satan' and 'kidnapping and torturing an ACTUAL ANGEL' to their list of crimes, huh.

[firenati0n]

fic pride friday

yeah it's not friday idc idc thank you to @kiwiana-writes @anincompletelist @anchoredarchangel for the tags <3

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

i only have 7 fics so I'm using snips from all of them...maybe this will motivate me...hoping it helps :)

snips below the cut so it's not a pain on your dash lol. also they're in order of posting, so if you haven't read something just scroll on by lol:

from our world, mine and his alone (the midnight train to go) aka cracky brain worm fic:

In a poorly executed non sequitur, he settled to comment on the first thing he could think of. Fatal error.  Deep breath in. “By the way. Digging the cardigan, Henry. Very…” He rifled through his extensive vocab for literally any appropriate adjective. Refined? Boring. Professional? Practical, but also boring.   “Very…?” Henry raised an eyebrow, long fingers wrapped around a cup of tea. Earl Grey, Henry had said a while ago, but Alex couldn't be sure. He had been terribly distracted by said fingers, wondering where else those fingers could— What Alex’s distracted, useless worms in his left temporal lobe decided to supply him with as a response was: “Slutty-English-Literature-professor core.” Alex was going to jump off the train. He was going to change his name. He was going to get a lobotomy, as a treat. 

+

from An Amateur's Guide to Piping That Cream and Beating That Meat aka thirst trap tiktok au:

and my favorite part is the end when henry makes a bold ass move on alex through an old tiktok comment while he's sat across from him LMFAOOOO king shit:

+

from each time we touch / i wanna take too much aka fingers in mouths dreamy fic:

Eyes still closed, Henry kisses Alex's thumb, a soft touch, and Alex sucks in a sharp breath. He presses his thumb inside for a second, resting it on Henry's tongue. Henry's eyes open, slow and steady, and he grasps Alex's hand gently, pulling his thumb out and wrapping his long pale fingers around Alex's index and middle finger instead; pulls them into his mouth, closing his lips around Alex's digits. Alex lets out a stuttered gasp as he leans into the touch, his fingers sliding in a little deeper. The sound of his shaky exhale sits for a second, heavy in the silence. The air around them crackles. There's a weight on Alex's chest, pressing and pressing and pressing, until he can barely get a breath in or out within the inches of shared space between him and Henry. Henry swirls his tongue around Alex's fingers, and his eyes are clear as ever as they bore into Alex, a challenge. And who is Alex to deny him anything?

+

from keep me up all night / i wanna scratch your surface aka lovely prose all over fic:

Alex is determined to give him the world, even if it’s narrowed down to a strip of smooth skin just below Henry’s clavicle, a constellation of purple and red hues littered in places no one can see, in spots wandering eyes can’t reach. Alex’s heart pouring out of his mouth, sliding past his tongue and right onto Henry’s skin, the universe contained in Henry’s rib cage that protects the air they share in impassioned exhales and the heartbeat that intertwines with Alex’s when they’re like this; a sacred harmony of bodies and spaces. He’ll never tire of this.

and also this:

Alex does his worst, and then some; a reminder that they get to have this. It’s theirs, and it’s the universe in Henry’s ribcage, and it’s the moonlight reflected in Alex’s eyes, and it’s the world narrowed down to bruises on a pale canvas and bite marks on golden skin. Marks that they can run delicate fingertips over, press into with devotion; tucked away for safekeeping in the morning, their starkness harsh in the sunlight. There are no eyes worthy of Henry in the daytime.

+

from cause you're classic, and i'm reckless aka ryan gosling / rachel mcadams inspired actor au:

When Alex was called up for his award, he felt himself go right back to where he was on day one of rehearsals—transparent, with his heart on his sleeve and voice a little wobbly. Being recognized for his accomplishments felt so novel, so intense, so foreign. After fighting tooth and nail to proudly sport his biracial and bisexual identity, he was thrilled to be accepted for who he was, and told he was good enough for the masses, his intersectionality a standout and not something to hide; good enough for Henry as a costar, holding his own opposite an industry darling. He couldn’t keep the tremor out of his voice as he accepted his trophy, thanking everyone for their hard work on this movie, the studio for backing a movie about unapologetic queer love, and Henry for being his faithful guide and cheerleader in a new landscape for Alex, giving him space to be his authentic self free of judgment and fear of failure. He’s so, so grateful for this. He will never stop being grateful; after pouring his heart and soul into this movie, he got so much back in return, and then some. He’s completely rearranged, made up of brand new parts next to his old, rusty ones; a patchwork heart beating erratically yet earnestly, hands that have traversed new spaces and swaths of skin, people pouring themselves back into him and sanding down the rough parts, caressing the scared ones. Alex feels not just reborn, but also like the person he always was deep down, just waiting to have a chance to emerge with all his heart to show for it.

+

from who truly stuck the knife in first aka spy au aka sexually charged wrestling:

Alex averts his gaze, rolling onto his back to gaze at the cracks in the ceiling. The thing is. The thing is, Alex doesn’t know where the fuck to go from here. Between the barbs and the knives and the tension and the rolling around on the floor and the bed in a sexually frustrated heap, Alex didn’t take a second to consider he could have this, could have Henry in a way that mattered. Now that it's just within reach, he's scared it's going to slip away from his fingers and into the night if he holds on too tight, wants too much. He’s spared the need to respond by the sound of a crackle coming from Henry's laptop, then clothes rustling as someone groans. Manu’s bug is up and running, the man probably fielding a killer hangover and hazy memories of Alex and unbuttoned shirts and hands wrapped around throats. Alex clears his throat, scraping away any remnants of lingering affection. “Back to work, Foxy,” he says with a cheeky grin. Before he can help himself, though, he leans into Henry, planting a sweet kiss on his parted lips. Henry sighs into him, cupping his cheek with a tenderness Alex hasn't felt in a long while. He tastes like a future Alex dreams of having one day. For now, that's enough. It has to be.

+

from and all i can taste is this moment, and all i can breathe is your life aka angel!henry fic aka city of angels au with a happy ending:

Henry forges on, the words pouring out of him, spilling all over the cliffside for Alex to see. “It is a sin worth committing, a fruit worth eating—at least I’ll get to taste you. You will never be a lapse in my judgment. You are my salvation, through you I get to reclaim myself. Isn’t that beautiful, isn’t that everything you’ve taught me about life and love and humanity?” Alex gazes at him, mouth slightly agape, taking in Henry’s impassioned words. Alex has spent his life fighting for others, extending himself beyond his limits. Now it’s Henry’s turn. “Darling, I’ve spent years, centuries even, pondering the question of what makes you human, what sits in your core. After all this time, the answer is unchanging—it’s love. Love, and care, and the unflinching determination of the human condition. With this, with you, I’ve experienced the absolutely soul-crushing realization that our hearts are built to endure when you have hope.” Henry’s voice wavers a bit, but he presses forward, determined to make the words land. “You are my hope, the hope I never thought I’d get to have, the hope I never thought I deserved to keep. With you, I want to endure.”

xoxo roop

open tag but also some no pressure tags : @wordsofhoneydew @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @whimsymanaged

@nontoxic-writes @alasse9 @ships-to-sail @leaves-of-laurelin @myheartalivewrites

@sherryvalli @ninzied @rmd-writes @suseagull04 @inexplicablymine

[duckingwriting]

Pride of lines tag

I was tagged by @aquadestinyswriting here,

Share lines/an except that you're proud of!

No pressure tagging: @mrbexwrites, @oh-no-another-idea, and leaving an open tag(seriously it's been so long since I played the tag games)

From a one of my short stories with repeating OCs. This is one is the alien one but has the characters as children vs their normal adult selves they're portrayed as.

"Prince Kaeden." Petteri blinked at the small child whose ears laid back in embarrassment.

"Hello, General Vogel." Kaeden mummbled.

"Hi dad!" Esk grinned.

"Thank you General." Yanira sighed with relief, setting down the boy she held as her own son pulled away from the adult to rush over to his friend. Kayla rushed to join the boys who already waving their hands as they rapidly debated their next adventure, ignoring the adults completely.

"Of course my queen." Petteri smiled as the queen walked up to him. He reached out and gently grasped her hand, pulling his mask down and flicking his tongue against the back of it, holding her gaze. The children unaware of the adults though the blinking recording light still pointed their way occasionally as Kayla joined the debate with the two boys.

Yanira's ears folded back gently and she tipped her head back slightly, exposing her neck. Petteri stepped forward pressing his mouth against her neck while their joined hands moved to rest on her abdomen.

[lamuradex]

Pride of Line

Premise: Post a line/snippet of writing that you're proud of!

Thanks @sableglass for the tag. Always appreciated.

I wrote this like an hour ago for Ninth Realm.

A good doctor mourning the loss of a friend.

-

“I’ve lost patients before, even in high pressure situations. Some of them were even good people. But I’ve never lost any family though, which I’d imagine is very different. Actually, I’d imagine it feels a lot like this, losing a friend.” He raised his glass in a solo toast. “To you, Reginald York. A braver man than I.”

“You are brave,” Angela countered.

“True, but I merely cure death. Reginald fought it at close quarters. A man who did good in ways others only dared to dream.” He sipped his drink again.

-

And tags!

@wintherlywords @stephtuckerauthor @fayeiswriting @mikathewriter @agirlandherquill @the-golden-comet and anyone else who wants in.

By the way, if anyone doesn't want to be tagged, or alternatively would love to be tagged, feel free to let me know. Currently I'm just tagging Writeblr mutuals, as best as I can work out.

[firstsprinces]

Thank you @anincompletelist for tagging me in this game! I loved devouring each of your snippets from the works you’re proud of!

Rules: Post your favorite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

I haven’t even started and I’m about to break the only rule 😂 because I still only have fics posted from holiday challenges, which I am not blown away by. I thoight I'd have other fics posted by now but it’s been a year so far, to say the least. So, I’m also going to share from Outlaw Alex because he’s coming very soon and I’m honestly the most proud of the way the words are fitting together for that one!

Leaving this tag as open and will be catching up with my following list soon! I can't wait to read what you're proud of and show you some extra and well deserved love!

Here we go...

From "Take This House and Make it a Home"

They admire their choice together from the couch later on that evening with David curled up underneath the blanket. Alex rests his head on Henry’s shoulder and thinks about how he can’t wait to decorate the tree the next day and debate if the tree will have colored lights or white lights – he’s guessing the white ones won’t be a choice once there are children also making the decisions. He can’t wait for the time where both he and Henry each have a child on their shoulders wanting to put ornaments on the tree higher than the other while having Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer  on the television in the background. Then, once the children are put to bed for the night, it’ll be the two of them again having their private moment admiring everything they’ve created together, just like this with David snoring and the fireplace crackling, with Henry’s legs tangled with his as the peace settles over them; that the house they’ve settled down in is finally a home. Whether it’s tonight, two or three Christmases from now, or when they’re in their eighties, Alex will always look over at Henry and know the magic that they have together is forever.

From "Here We Stand Worlds Apart" (ongoing)

The side of his hand skims the material of the bodysuit as he searches for the chin strap, popping off the buckle. Then he takes both of his hands and carefully begins the removal of the helmet. As more of the face starts to be revealed, a strong chin and jawline, perfectly chiseled cheekbones, dark and soft curls styled with a short cut, Henry finds out it’s a man who’s crashed into the woods. He can’t help but stare at the face of the attractive man. Attractive isn’t even the correct word in his vocabulary to describe him. His eyes are closed, which makes Henry wonder what color they are. He hopes they aren’t green like Ralph’s because he doesn’t want to be reminded of a pair of eyes that will never look at him in the adoringly hungry way they do when he looks at Alice Rodgers. Long dark lashes fan out and almost look as if they’re touching the top curve of his cheekbones. He looks angelic even in a setting that looks like he’s met his death. His appreciative gaze travels to his hair next. Curls draping over one another in an unlikely symphony of wildness and precise placing, even after being smashed flat against his head from wearing the helmet. Henry can’t help but want to feel what the curls would feel like moving through the spaces between his fingers, even though it’s a bizarre thing to do to someone who’s just been in a crash, someone who’s a stranger to him.

From "The Wind Whispered Something That the Devil's to Blame" (coming soon)

Months after his father’s funeral, his mother had told him the opposite. It had actually been Henry who’d given his father the enlightenment to embrace all new discoveries and to always keep chasing them because they’re remarkably never-ending. Always live as though the world keeps creating things to stumble upon on purpose. Accidents may happen along the way, but those are also little surprises that will lead to something far grander. As a child Henry had been more animated and curious than his two siblings, but he’d also been overly cautious and kept to himself when necessary. It had been his father who would tell Henry that he shouldn’t be afraid of unknown things, so why would his mother tell him otherwise? What would Henry have given someone with more life experiences than he had? Their relationship had always been different than his ones with Phillip and Beatrice. Though Arthur always made sure to give each of his children their own moments just between the two of them, Catherine had let the secret out to Henry that his favorite discovery had been witnessing Henry experience the world around him. After the confession, Henry made the promise to his father after his passing that he’d take his father on every new adventure with him to make sure he’d never miss out, and in those adventures, he’d find out who he truly is and embrace himself as the wonderment his father believes he is. He places the last and only photograph he has of him and his father, back down on his desk, his pointer finger skimming his greyed blurry face that doesn’t resemble the fact his father’s memory will never become dull or unclear.

[eusuntgratie]

Fic Pride Weekend

thank you for the tags @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @bigassbowlingballhead <3

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

this could be a disaster, taynick, rwrb rpf

disaster my slutty slutty baby. there's a lot in here i'm proud of, but the moments nick lets us see how much taylor cares about him are some of my very favorite. it took me way too long to pick a bit from this fic!

“You’re really good, Nick,” Taylor tells him, like he can see all of his insecurities lining themselves up in his head. It zings through his brain and body pleasantly in a way he doesn’t expect. He wants to make a joke, but he swallows it down, and mutters, “thanks,” to the floor at Taylor’s feet. Before he knows what to do, Taylor’s wrapping him up in a hug, tight and warm and perfect. “I’m so glad you’re my Henry,” he murmurs, and Nick thinks he could probably melt into the floor.

give it to me easy, tknp, men's hockey rpf

happy retired pat fic my beloved <3

It’s always been easier with TK. Like he bullied his way into Nolan’s life while he was distracted with proving himself on the team and before Nolan knew what was happening he was letting TK tie his tie and come over when he was laid out with a migraine and telling him how much he hated his fucking head back before he’d talk to anybody.

stetson, firstprince, rwrb

i love this fic so much, and this bit is probably my favorite

“What’s the matter, baby?” Alex asks, voice gone deeper and a little raspy. Henry wants to drown in it. Wants to sink to his knees and get his hands on the denim stretched across Alex’s thighs, wants to choke on his cock, wants Alex to shove him backwards with his boot and fuck him on the floor until he cries.

forgive me, father, sidgeno, men's hockey rpf

this is one of the fics i've most proud of in general. it was a huge departure for me thematically and writing about catholicism was challenging but cathartic, i think. writing sid as a priest was a fuckin trip.

That night, he sinks to his knees and asks the Lord to protect John Francis, to give him the strength to be what the town needs, to guide His people into the light and away from the Devil. He sleeps fitfully, plagued by confusing dreams - strange amalgamations of things he’s seen and tempting imagery sent by the Devil. The dead Deacon, faceless and cold, in the bed Sid now sleeps in. The cross he saw on his way into town, lit up in flames. A beautiful, tempting face with big eyes and a mischievous smile, whispering, “hello, Sidney. I’m glad you’re here.” Visions of the town, sinking down to Hell, calling out to Sid who is powerless to help, chained by his own failings, his sins, his shortcomings.

bruises on both my knees for you, dumotanger, men's hockey rpf

i fucking love these two i should poke at my omegaverse fic for them

Brian’s embarrassingly hard to just be kneeling on a crusty floor with a dick barely in his mouth, but everything about Kris seems to make him want him more.

hold me like i was forgiven, tknp (kinda, more like a tk fic), men's hockey rpf

i love this fic it hurt me so bad to write it it's one of my favorites. this scene made me cry writing it and i still love it so much.

Travis takes in every detail of Rhett’s sweet face, suddenly afraid this is a dream he’ll wake up from. He knows people love their kids, that he loves kids, but watching Rhett’s face smashed up against his chest, drooling into his shirt, he’s overwhelmed by the force of his love for him. “He's beautiful, Karly.” She smiles like she can’t help it. “He really is.” “He looks like me.” Her smile falters a little. “I know.” “I love him,” he says, tears spilling over and onto his face. “I love him so much.” Her voice shakes this time when she answers, “I know. I know you do.”

liar, sidgenotanger, men's hockey rpf

i'd love to write a sequel to this. i love their dynamic in this one!

Kris starts to argue but Zhenya cuts them both off. “Sid. Be good.”

can't help it i want you, sidgenoanna, men's hockey rpf

Sid sighs. He's the captain. And maybe if things were different, he’d have a girlfriend or a wife who would notice and do for Anna what Sid always does for the rookies. But he doesn’t. What he has is a bad habit of fucking around with his alternate captain and a mostly-manageable load of guilt about it.

i am not a woman i'm a god, allison/erica but really nogitsune/erica, teen wolf

i had to get at least one teen wolf fic and one femslash fic in here! this one was fun to write.

The thing that looks like Allison, pretty dimples out of place on the cruel face, is on top of her in an instant, boxing her into the seat where she slept. She hates that she freezes, that not-Allison is bringing out the sad, scared, embarrassed sick girl that she tries to pretend was killed by the bite.

tagging @lostcol @voxofthevoid @jbarneswilson @taste-thewaste @dreamsinthewitchouse

@sheepywritesfics @matriaya @puckingfabulous @oxfordslutphase

[aalinaaaaaa]

Writing Pride Tag

Thanks to @bardic-tales for the tag!

Premise: Post a line/snippet of writing that you're proud of!

So the saying in this has actually been in my notes for years, but I'm now in a place where it's going to actually be used, yay

“Dad, where did Mother go?” She knew not the reason for the sadness in his eyes. “… She’s gone.” “When will she be back?” Her father strode over to the window, the sky illuminated with the blue-purple preludes of sunrise. “Ola perailta vespra.” When all the birds are free.

—

Sending tags to @gioiaalbanoart @honeybewrites @space-writes @talesfromaurea @sableglass and an open tag for anyone else reading this!