#writing that I love

[vakariansyndrome]

I think about these a lot...

You ever read a fic and just have certain things about it haunt you (in the best way)? I have lost count of how many fics I have read that follow me around, popping up in my head in the most random moments—making me want to cry, smile, laugh, sometimes even flip a desk over.

I thought it would be fun to shout out three of my favorite writers, to include small blurbs from their works that I think about pretty frequently. I'd like to make this a weekly thing, shouting out different writers each time, but we'll see how well my time management goes. *yikes*

Here it goes:

@fartasticdurge

Percival loved Hildred. He loved those moments even more. But what he loved the most was how it felt to have his scissors in someone's eye as he took their life.  

There's blood everywhere

my skin crawls as you hide behind your words I will bear witness to your regicide I can see you for what you are, tyrant you can't do anything to change my mind

Pretender (the bug in my eye)

He couldn’t quite figure out what made him so nervous. Astarion thought about what it would be like to have Wyll come. How long would he keep his hands to himself before he finally gives in and proves he is like anyone else before him? He imagined Wyll coming and fucking him raw against a tree, which was both exciting and horrifying, and it only baffled him further. And the worst one was the fact that Wyll might not even show up at all.

Just shut up and kiss me

@alwaysmauria

He fidgets with his rings when he’s impatient or bored, though I’d never tell him so. It would serve no purpose. I twist the first one, then the other, and he twitches at the touch. He had these fine gold bands made for him—having the medal the city hung around his neck melted down and reforged. I thought it impudent at the time. I understand better now. It was about having power to take what had been offered and turning it into that which he desired. I slip the ring off his pinky finger, and over my middle finger to which he hums his approval. His hands are large—at least I think they are. Mine are small so it’s difficult to gauge. When he holds my hand in his, it disappears almost entirely. I relate to my hand. I wonder if someday I will be entirely consumed simply by standing too close to him. 

I’ll ride in this life with you

Astarion dipped his head to hers. ‘Remind me how many kisses I owe you?’  ‘Six.’ Mauria’s answer was just breath against his cheek. She felt the twitch of a laugh in his chest—he knew she was lying. And then he was kissing her. She had been kissed by him many times before, in very many ways, but this felt new. His mouth met hers, and she felt as though her body had flooded with ice water. She was aware of every inch of her body, and of his pressed to it. She bit gently on his lip and he groaned softly. When his mouth claimed hers, it was not as the Ascendant, but as her— ‘—Star—’ she gasped between kisses. She didn’t call him that anymore, not since the ritual. Hearing it again made his skin tingle, his ears warm—and his chest ache. That was who he was, or rather who he used to be. Star. Her Star, to be precise. Who was he now?

Chase the Lady

She hardly had the words for Astarion. He was her everything, and seeing him again made that so clear. She could be whatever he needed—alive or undead, as long as she got to be his. Her heart beat wildly, and suddenly couldn’t get to her feet fast enough. [...]

She had been so foolish. She needed to tell him that. He was running to her. Above anything else, he had to know how sorry she was—how much she had missed him. She was sure she was grinning like an idiot. An idiot in love, of course. (Ch. 17)

Star Crossed

@strixamans

But I’d like to be your favorite bird forever, if you’ll have me. I will sit quietly perched on your shoulder, as long as you like. I will fly out to return with shiny trinkets, just for you. I will do tricks in the air for your amusement.

And at the dawn of every morning, I will sing to you of what a joy it is, to be your favorite bird. For in a world so full of birds, you’ll always be my favorite, too.

Your Favorite Bird (The Vampire Verses)

Then time distends, in a slow shudder, until his fangs withdraw from me. His mouth is still there, though, his sweet mouth, where he drank. He shares his suffering, too, when he stops; we just look into each other, he pours his eyes into mine so that I can have some of it, too. His tongue presses to my flesh, lapping slowly at what remains, savoring it, and gods, he has never been so sensual, his eyes are ecstasy again while the serpent squeezes, hissing and the ground falls away, and in this moment, I have all I’ve ever wanted. (Ch. 9)

For a second, he just stares at me; wide-eyed, mouth hanging open in shock. Then a look of excitement washes over him. His lips spread wider, his eyes narrow slightly, then he’s surging forward, bringing his left hand to cradle my head, protecting it from the hard stone beneath us while he pushes me backward and down, pinning my bent right leg to the ground with his knee. Hard and fast, his predator teeth are in my neck again. The pain is searing, the onslaught of euphoria so violent that I spasm underneath him, against his body, moaning, while he drinks. (Ch. 11)

Hunting Creatures

---

Like, I said, I can go on for days, listing so many wonderful writers and entire chunks of their work. I feel so lucky to be surrounded by so many talented and down to earth people.

I wanted to shout out a few more folks in this post, but I think keeping at three per post allows me to share a bit more from each one. So, if you want to carry this on, I tag (to include the writers tagged above) @dramaticchimpmunk, @blissfulstarsfics, and @nocryptographer, No pressure to do anything, of course! I love you goobers and just wanted to share some of that with everyone else.

Also, if y'all prefer I not share any excerpts of your work in shoutouts, or shout you out at all, lmk! <3

[so-many-ocs]

[on the verge of having a complete breakdown] i need to make some kind of list or perhaps sort things into categories

[evidently-endless]

i think we should remind musicians they can absolutely make up little stories for their songs btw. it doesn’t have to be about them at all. you can invent a guy and put him in situations to music. time honoured tradition in fact.

[palatial-monstrosity]

the self care industry will sell you face masks and teas and whatnot so i'm here to remind you not to forget the most important self care activity which is masturbation

[almondpiglet]

ppl were drawing mikus from all over so heres habesha miku and her lil twin sibs rin and len!!

[abreathlessplace]

"i wonder if we ever think of each other at the same time."

[within-the-last-minute]

stay safe because i like being alive at the same time as you.

[demonicsuffrage]

8 year old freshly adopted Dick, throwing the moths and flies he caught on Patrol directly at Bruce's face: I got you dinner!

Bruce, who was just bombarded with insects: Chum?!

Dick, smiling cheerfully: Bats eat insects!

Bruce:

Dick: I just read it in a book

Bruce:

Bruce: Bats also eat fruits and nectar

Dick: So you're a fruity bat?

Bruce:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick, throwing an apple at him the next day: Dinner!

Bruce:

[noperopesaredope]

I wish we had more female characters like Eleanor Shellstrop. One of the most unlikable people you've ever met. Read a Buzzfeed article on most rude things you can do on a daily basis and decided to use that as a list of goals. Makes everyone's day worse just by being there. Dropped a margarita mix on the ground and tried to pick it up, only to get hit by a row of shopping carts which pushed her into the road where she was hit by a boner pill delivery truck, killing her instantly. Cannot keep a romantic partner despite being bisexual. Had a terrible childhood but will die before she gets therapy. Best employee at a scam company. Just the worst but also can't help but root for her to improve.

Absolute loser. Girl-failure. Bad at almost everything. Literally perfect female character.

[beepboopappreciation]

Is this anything

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

it’s easy to forget that satoru was rearranging your guts just 5 minutes ago when he’s sitting in front of you, looking like that.

clad in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, shirtless body exposed to gentle nip of the moonlight, snowy hair looking like it’s never seen a brush and crunching down on an apple like a little kid as if he wasn’t the one fucking you into oblivion in his bedroom that’s so conveniently next to the kitchen.

you play with the collar of his shirt he carefully put on you after you two were done and he meticulously cleaned up the mess he made from your body, promising to take a shower a little later because he was starving. you suspect that the promise of a shower “later” means satoru isn’t done just yet and the thought starts a fire in your tummy that threatens to spreads all over your body with every passing look at him.

and now you both are sitting in his kitchen, across from each other, with your bare legs thrown lazily over his lap(because he demanded you do that, craving any kind of physical contact he can get), and him feeding you clumsily cut pieces of green apple, ripe banana and kiwi that was a little too sour for your liking, but sweetened by the fact that satoru cut it for you.

satoru smiles so sweetly at you, looks so softly and touches so gently; a stark contrast to his hungry, insatiable even, demeanour he was showing just a little while ago. eager to touch, to claim, to torture with the prospect of a mind-blowing climax and the warmness of close proximity after. you’re mesmerised by him, by his duality.

and then he proceeds to ruin it when he asks “whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout? me??” with a mouth full and some spit landing on your chin, and you can’t stop the giggles that rise from your chest. he does ruin the magic of the moment you built inside your head, but not completely — he adds a part of his true self into it and makes it into something that’s out of your head. makes it real.

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was young my dad offhandedly told me he thought people treated fish with so much casual cruelty because fish can’t scream.

The words branded themselves across my soul.

As an adult I think he may have been joking. He payed no especial attention to any indignities fish suffered in our household but I could never forget. I saw fish in a different light after that.

Fish kept in tiny bowls, breathing their own poisons, dying by inches. Fish kept in cold tanks, casually disposed of. Fish touted as being short lived when they could outlive the better loved family dog if only they could breathe. Fish casually won and discarded in cheap plastic bags, thrown away a week later.

How they would scream, if they could.

[dictatorialromance]

“Good morning to your breasts. Your bra is tired. Replace it with my hands.”

[geezmarty]

(bellara/taash) nerd/jocks lovers rise up

[whendidmythoughtsgocrazy]

Sometimes, it isn’t the one who takes your breath away, it’s the one that reminds you to breathe.

k.b. // by jennifer johnson

[ashoss]

needed to draw kori and this is what came from it