Writing Share - Tumblr Posts

Favorite Line Tag

Thanks for tagging me @inseasofgreen! This conversation is everything to me. I’m excited to share it!

So many words swarmed inside me. So many apologies, admissions, feelings. More than I ever felt before, all fighting their way to be the first to escape. As I stared at the unsightly blue streaks permanently marring my hand, somehow the words that pushed their way out were, “I am not perfect.”

Catalina tilted her head up, meeting my eyes with her soft ones. “No one is. That’s why we’re witches, not goddesses.”

She stayed silent for a second, thinking. “I actually think they were not perfect either. If they were, they would have kept their power instead of giving it to us.”

“I need to be perfect. When I am not, things like this…”

“It’s not your fault.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “She was my attendant. She took care of me, but I was still responsible for her. I am responsible for my whole clan.”

“You are not responsible for the decisions other people make. You didn’t even know about Maya’s decisions, so how could you be? We cannot be perfect, Daron. We can only be better.”

Gently tagging @the-golden-comet @alinacapellabooks

Thanks for the tag @the-golden-comet! Ali seems like such a cutie pie ^_^ Anyway, here’s a snippet from Night Of The Blue Moon:

“Brooklyn is my baby. I am his mother. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t try to save my baby?”

“Brooklyn was not a baby. He was a twenty-three year old man,” Ariel suddenly blurted out. Hearing Eurydice’s outpouring of love for the man who had ruined her life was lighting a white hot fire in her mind. 

Eurydice shook her head. “No matter how old your children get, they’re always your babies at heart,” she responded, holding the torch out, “It’s true that not everyone has the means to protect their babies from all of their mistakes, but I do, and I’m going to use everything that I have to bring my Brooklyn back into the world. Brooklyn deserves to live, and all of the people who hated him, no matter how good their reasons were, deserve to die.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she looked at the roof as though it were covered in dog shit. “Especially that bitch Ariel Gianapoulou. Brooklyn wouldn’t have had to drop out of university if it wasn’t for her. She’s the reason why he’ll never become a police officer, like he wanted to be”--

“Lunar Clarification!”

Eurydice was knocked back several feet by the glowing white lasers, crying out as her head smacked against the roof. It took her about thirty seconds to get to her feet again, and when she did, there was blood on the back of her head. 

“Way to go, Blue Moon!” Anargyros cried, “You fucked that bitch up good and proper!”

Eurydice held out the torch, anger blazing in her eyes. “You little cunt. What the fuck did you do that for?!”

“Moonlight halo!” 

Murderous rage burned in Ariel’s eyes as she hit Eurydice with the silver shockwave, swinging her torch like a gymnast’s ribbon. She felt stupid for letting her anger get the best of her, but how could she not be angry after hearing Eurydice–No, not Eurydice, she didn’t deserve that name–Chardonnay, make out like Brooklyn was the victim, and she was the monster? In this moment, she wanted nothing more than to beat Chardonnay Steadman to a bloody pulp without mercy. Chardonnay Steadman had made innocent people kill each other. Chardonnay Steadman had laughed gleefully in her face as she’d told her that if she ever told anyone what Brooklyn had done, she’d have her and her family killed. Chardonnay Steadman did not deserve her mercy. 

She was visibly shaking now, clutching Anargyros’ torch as if it were a lifeline. Ariel almost felt satisfied, because now, she wielded all the power. Chardonnay Steadman was afraid of her. Chardonnay Steadman was just as powerless and insignificant as she’d made her feel back then. 

Chardonnay pulled herself to her feet, using the torch to steady her balance. “How dare you…How dare you attack a member of the Steadman family”--

“Quiet,” Ariel spat back, “Give back Anargyros’ torch, now, or taste the end of my torch again. If you do not cooperate, I will show you no mercy.”

Chardonnay backed away until she hit the very edge of the roof. “I’m not letting you have it back!” she cried as purple candles appeared in her free hand, “No one has the right to stop me from saving my baby!”

She lit the candles with the flames on the torch and sent them floating down onto some random teenagers who were walking by. “Lampad candles, make those teenagers beat each other to death!”

The teens’ eyes turned purple as the candles attached themselves to the tops of their heads, and they started shouting and swearing and throwing punches at each other, meanwhile Chardonnay jumped to the rooftop of the building next to them.

“You’re gonna run away, instead of fighting us? You’re pathetic!” Red Sun spat, looking at Ariel, “Blue Moon, you go after her, and I’ll deal with the possessed teenagers.”

“Are you sure you can handle them by yourself?” Ariel responded, “We need to catch her, but I don’t want you to get hurt in the process.”

“I’ll be fine,” Red Sun responded, “Anargyros, you’d better go with her.”

“Yeah, you’re right. After all, it is my torch we’re going after,” the lampad said nonchalantly, “Let’s get this bitch, Blue Moon!”

Leaving this open to whoever wants to join!

Thank you for the tag, @tabswrites !

Writing Share Tag for YWIMC, in my classic fashion: comic sans ✨

Tagging (no pressure): @gioiaalbanoart , @wyked-ao3 , @fortunatetragedy , @zackprincebooks , @autism-purgatory , @justabigoldnerd , @lychhiker-writes , @alinacapellabooks , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @fortunatetragedy , @froggy-pposto , +open tag! ✨

Thanks for the tag! Ali is such a sweet himbo ^_^

The lampad held up his torch. “Right. Three express tickets to the Underworld, coming up,” he responded, “This is gonna feel a bit weird for you girls, but you’ll just have to grin and bear it.”

Solana was about to ask what he meant, but then a chill started to creep through her veins, like her blood was running cold, and the floor beneath them turned black, and then disappeared, and the three of them fell hard and fast, like they’d been dropped down a mine shaft, for what seemed like forever. They fell, surrounded by nothing but total darkness, and then, suddenly, their feet hit a soft hill covered in fresh grass. There was grass, and asphodel flowers bathed in a soft purple glow as far as the eye could see, and a blue velvet sky twinkling with what looked like purple stars. It was warm, but not too warm, like a summer night, and the souls of the departed sat around, chatting, or playing amongst the flowers. A crystal clear blue river flowed through the meadow, the water so still that it didn’t even lap at the riverbanks. 

“It’s…Surprisingly nice down here,” Solana said with bated breath.

Tagging @bone-and-butterflies and @frostedlemonwriter!

✨Writing Share Tag🧞‍♂️✨

Thank you for this tag, @aintgonnatakethis !

I will share a snippet from YWIMC I wrote in my most recent five hour writing binge 💫

TW for blood 🩸

Tagging for the write share AND juicy YWIMC updates:

@autism-purgatory @fortunatetragedy @deanwax @dyrewrites @wyked-ao3 @sunglasses-in-the-bentley @gioiaalbanoart @paeliae-occasionally @drchenquill @honeybewrites @theaistired @willtheweaver @jev-urisk @mauannacreates @theverumproject @talesofsorrowandofruin @alinacapellabooks , @madi-konrad @billybatsonmylove @brigidfromthecelts , @ath3alin , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @thatuselesshuman , @lychhiker-writes , @zackprincebooks , @cowboybrunch , @mundanemoongirl , @musicismymoirail , @justabigoldnerd , @pippinoftheshire , @thecoolerlucky , @fantasy-things-and-such , @illarian-rambling , @corinneglass , @corvys-clover , @finickyfelix , @pisces-swirlix , @avaseofpeonies , @pixies-love-envy +open tag! ✨

Thanks for the tag! Here’s a little bit of Night Of The Blue Moon!

She looked up at the night sky as though she were talking to the universe. “The girl of my dreams is a nerd with a heart of gold. Like, the kind of girl whose ideal date is binge-watching anime at home, or eating in a quiet cafe late at night,” she sighed, “The kind of girl who could wipe the floor with you in Smash, and then volunteer at an animal shelter after work, or donate essentials to a food bank on weekends.”

Ariel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m starting to think that you have a specific girl in mind.”

Red Sun’s cheeks flushed. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you sound like you’re describing a girl who already exists instead of some hypothetical dream girl,” she scoffed, “I won’t make you tell me anything else about her if you don’t want to. I know it can be embarrassing to talk about things like this.”

Red Sun sighed, clenching her fists. “Ok, yeah, you’re right, there’s a girl I like. She doesn’t talk much, but she’s one of the nicest people I know. I feel like I can trust her with anything,” she sighed, “Sometimes I feel like she knows me better than I know myself, because she always sees right through me. She always sees through my fake smiles, and encourages me to say what I’m really thinking.”

She looked back at Ariel, tucking one of her bangs behind her ear. “You’re a little bit like her, Blue Moon. You saw right through me, just like she does.”

Ariel stifled a laugh. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t think that you are her, so don’t freak out, but like…You’re crush-worthy, is what I’m trying to say, I guess,” she said quickly, as though making it up ok the spot, “If people knew that we existed, I bet the internet would be thirsting over you hard.” 

Ariel couldn’t hold back her laughter this time. “That sounds like people would fantasise about fucking me rather than dating me,” she scoffed, folding her arms.

Tagging @autism-purgatory @mauannacreates + open tag!

🐎 Writing Share Tag 🐎

Thank you for the tag @the-golden-comet! Here's a snippet from my WIP Pride Before a Fall, the poem that Cerie recites at Feast of the Horse!

“Flying strip of midnight races impatient gale; fast flow the iron feet to outpace impending hail. A steaming black body stark against the snow; though geography obliterated, my horse knows where to go. We tremble as one body, cutting through the daze; hooves endlessly plunging in the knee-deep maze. Chasing dim city lanterns so far from this cold plain; I bury my frostnip fingers into thick dark mane. Faster still my horse gallops and the lights grow bright; I cling hard to the saddle long through the frosty night. At last, we stop in tinkling ice, this nature song so sweet; mare’s breath hard and hot, so warm within the sleet. Protector and companion, heart-melting brown eyes; savior, soldier, navigator, as beautiful as wise.”

If you don't know who miss Cerie Korviridi is, be sure to pick up your copy of 9 Years Yearning, which shows her as a wee lil baby 🥹

Tagging @drchenquill, @davycoquette, @mysticstarlightduck, @aalinaaaaaa, @gioiaalbanoart, and @theaistired

Progress with Everduring continues, though I'm beginning to reach some hiccups. It's taking so long to work on the first section of the dream I've forgotten much of the other two parts

I always really want to pause this and write a short story for Jo's birthday

Either way, here's some more of Everduring

--

The central hall of heaven led to a large and cavernous atrium, its high ceiling scarcely lit by a dim chandelier. On the far side of the room the white walls bled into a vast panel of glass—outside there was only the void. When I would approach the windows my bones began to rattle, and my veins would oscillate. It hurts to draw near, causing a gradual building pain that rises until I could only flee.

The atrium felt different from most of the building. It was, for lack of a better explanation, preserved. The outer nothing was smoke, it had dried the living flesh eons ago, the marble coarse and like sandpaper upon my fingers. It was so dry that it seemed to draw out water from my skin like a vampiric, desert dwelling lizard. The beast was thirsty.

I think if I tipped a cup of water from my hand it would vanish instantaneously; a lake would seep through the cracks faster than you’d imagine; and only all the melted sustenance of the universe could purge its desire.

Dehydration did not go far enough to describe it. 

The beast was a grand and arid desert, but there was once a time when this was not so. If the beast could dream it would dream of these long ago days.

Writing Share

Thanks to @the-golden-comet here, here, and here, @paeliae-occasionally here and here, and @mysticstarlightduck here!

Rules: post some writing!

Alright, let's go back to TSP.

From The Secret Portal Part Two (Akash POV)

I squinted at the chess board in front of me. I pursed my lips before moving my pawn on F2 forward a step. “Y’know you can only move pawns forward two spaces on your first turn,” said Robbie. “Yeah, I know,” I said. “I just didn’t feel like it.” Noelle moved her E7 pawn forward one. “See!” I said. “The chess master did the same thing!” “Yes, but she has a plan,” said Gabriel. “Who says I don’t?” I asked. Gabriel laughed. “Singh, I lost against her. I never lose.” “Hm,” I muttered, turning back to the board. “Just go with your gut instinct,” said Lexi. “This early in the game hardly matters.” I moved the pawn on G2 forward two steps. “There,” I said to Robbie. “Two steps. Happy?” Without hesitation, Noelle moved her queen to H4. “Checkmate.” “What?” I said. “Checkmate.” “No, there’s no—” I realized that with the two pawns out of the way, there was a straight shot to the king from where Noelle’s queen was. “Shit.” Robbie and Lexi doubled over laughing while Gabriel gave Noelle a high five. “Rematch!” I demanded. “Move your airborne ass, Akash,” Robbie said, pushing me aside. “I said I played the winner.” “Good luck,” I said, floating aside to be next to Gabriel. “That was brutal,” Tyler said, standing on the other side of the couch with Carla. “Rob! I call next turn with Noelle!” “How do you know I’m not gonna win?” “You’re not,” Tyler said. Carla laughed.

Fool's Mate is brutal. Happened to me once with a friend of mine, only he did it accidentally.

Tagging @addicted2coke-theothercoke @winterandwords @bookish-karina @orphanheirs @aziz-reads

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

I am going to do all of these, all from the same story I'm working on(currently referred to as B1), because I feel like it and I'm bored

--

Writing Share:

Edmund was dreaming of a dark red sea, one tainted heavily with iron. At the bottom, seven hundred feet beneath air and light, geysers plumed in thick, sluggish patterns. It churned the water, bringing bubbles to rise upwards and break upon exposure to the sky; they, to Edmund, likened the final breath of a drowning body. And he knew, for no explainable reason, simply through inside knowledge oh his dream, that the body would be his own.

Would be.

As in yet to happen.

--

Last Line:

The chartreuse that quickly emptied itself within him became torrential red, crashing on the thick tube with its waves.

--

Out of context:

At one hundred twenty miles per hour Edmund plummeted, shattering the protective barrier between that world below and heaven, crashing upon hard rock.

--

tagging(no pressure):

@dyrewrites @illarian-rambling @katy-books

✨Writing Share/Last Line/Out Of Context Tag 🪽✨

Thank you very much for tagging me here @mundanemoongirl and here @aintgonnatakethis . I appreciate ya! 💛✨

Take a last line, out of context writing share from Tenshito 🪽💫

Just like that, Tenshi hopped down the rabbit hold in the stump and appeared back where he started three days prior. Arriving in the forest outing, he looked at the direction of the sun, walked 15 minutes south, and arrived back at the window of Shito’s dojo.

Leaving this as an +open tag! 🪽✨

✨👇Tag list for writing snippets below. DM me if you’d like to be added 👇✨

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

@autism-purgatory , @jev-urisk , @talesofsorrowandofruin , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @glasshouses-and-stones , @alinacapellabooks , @gioiaalbanoart , @fortunatetragedy , @deanwax , @dyrewrites , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @paeliae-occasionally , @lychhiker-writes , @thatuselesshuman , @katenewmanwrites , @zackprincebooks , @fantasy-things-and-such , @finickyfelix , @billybatsonmylove , @madi-konrad , @houseplantblank , @far-cry-from-finality , @froggy-pposto , @fractured-shield , @avaseofpeonies , @topazadine , @thecoolerlucky , @theaistired , @willtheweaver , @rivenantiqnerd @somethingclevermahogony , @noxxytocin , @leahnardo-da-veggie , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @illarian-rambling , @the-letterbox-archives , @theink-stainedfolk , @saturnine-saturneight , @words-after-midnight , @sableglass , @cowboybrunch , @moltenwrites , @pixies-love-envy , @davycoquette , @writeahurricane , @nczaversnick , @greenfinchwriter , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @lavender-gloom

I haven't written in so long and I'm so excited to share stuff I'm gonna go ahead and start sharing this story I've been working on with very little editing done

Its an attempt on that old story based on my dream, told in a very different format. Honestly its a different story, just based of the same inspiration

Seven sentence Sundays are always fun so lets give it a go, even though its monday

---

It was an escape, one of few provided. That empty book was a keeper of sorrows. It was an abyss I could scream into, a physical chest to lock my heart within, and into that book I poured every ounce of fury within these bones. My writing was quick as lightning and forceful as the storm, tearing shreds through layers of paper. And I sought to destroy, to corrupt, bleeding black ink across the pages. That book was abused. I tore tentatively at its pages if only so that it would feel the pain of skin shredding; I broke its spine upon my knee so that it would bellow out; and, after fits of writing passion, I would read my own words and bawl as I clutched the book closely, fingers digging into its leather binding sharply.

---

✨Seven Sentence Sunday 🧞‍♂️✨

Thank you for tagging me here @justabigoldnerd and here @pippinoftheshire ! Excited to share my weekend progress with y’all! 💛💫✨

Guess who finished the climax last night? That’s right; we’re in the endgame baby 😎🧞‍♂️✨

“Oh, Noah….” Ali exhaled quickly before sucking the anxious breath back in. “….Oh, Allah, oh……It’s a long story, I…..I just need to hold you a little longer…..”

Noah nodded in understanding, or….partial understanding. Ali gently rocked their bodies back and forth on the soft sheets, his arms locked around Noah’s torso in a protective hug. Ali was a shield, and Cauldwell his sword.

No, I’m not screaming. YOU’RE screaming 👀🧞‍♂️

+Open tag for whoever wants to join! ✨

✨👇Tag list for writing snippets below. DM me if you’d like to be added 👇✨

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

@glasshouses-and-stones , @deanwax , @dyrewrites , @honeybewrites , @paeliae-occasionally , @thatuselesshuman , @katenewmanwrites , @zackprincebooks , @fantasy-things-and-such , @billybatsonmylove , @madi-konrad , @far-cry-from-finality , @froggy-pposto , @fractured-shield , @avaseofpeonies , @topazadine , @thecoolerlucky , @willtheweaver , @somethingclevermahogony , @noxxytocin , @leahnardo-da-veggie , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @illarian-rambling , @mysticstarlightduck , @the-letterbox-archives , @theink-stainedfolk , @ominous-feychild , @words-after-midnight , @yourpenpaldee , @moltenwrites , @pixies-love-envy , @davycoquette , @writeahurricane , @nczaversnick , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @lavender-gloom , @aintgonnatakethis , @pluppsauthor , @michellekarnold , @flurrysahin , @jadeglas , @spookyceph , @48lexr , @differentnighttale , @inseasofgreen , @agirlandherquill , @saebasanart , @leatafandom , @just-emis-blog , @aalinaaaaaa

Writing Share Tag!

Thanks for the tag @drchenquill (here)!

This is a scene that will take place a bit further down the line in Supernova Initiative but I wrote it today and couldn't wait to share it so here it is!

(Spoilers for Supernova Initiative under the cut)

The door wooshed open and Zenyth stormed into the room, his boot's heels clacking loudly as he walked, practically stomping on the polished stark white concrete. "Where the fuck is Jasper?!"

In the high table, the Syndicate looked down upon him with a myriad of different expressions - a mocking, patronizing air being the main one.

The High Councilman, sitting in the center of the half-circle that was the table, answered lazily, barely looking up from the holographic screen in front of him. "Somewhere else, until you fulfill your end of the bargain. Are you certain that's pertinent information as it stands?"

Zenyth seethed, closing his hands into fists "He's my son! Of course, that's 'pertinent' information. You have no right- "

The man looked at him then, a smug smirk on his face and a condescending lilt to his voice that made Zenyth want him dead even more "But we do," He tapped his fingers on the shiny lacquer surface of the table, "You should've thought of that before dealing with us. We want those weapons, and you assured us AstroCorp would provide them."

Zenyth smiled, so vitriolic it seemed more like a snarl than an actual smile. All things considered, the latter was probably more suitable to the context.

"And my company will provide those weapons, as was agreed, once I see the benefit in allying my resources with your cause. And kidnapping my son isn't doing your case any favors here."

The High Councilman cut him off, teasing "Oh, since when did you - an anarchist, the most infamous weapons dealer in the system - start being picky with your clientele? Isn't your whole M.O. 'profit before anything else'? You don't exactly have the moral high ground, anywhere."

Zenyth answered, crossing his arms over his chest, " That may be true - but as a businessman, I want to ensure I'm siding with the winning side. There's no profit in funding a lost cause, much less in a civil war. That would just be bad business." He tilted his head slightly to the side as he continued, narrowing his eyes "Either way, my son has nothing to do with this - he has, literally, nothing to do with the deal. Or with the company."

The other's smirk grew even more unbearable and his voice dripped saccharine like rotten candy "Well, now he does. Besides, I'm starting to like this new arrangement quite a lot - the genius founder of AstroCorp is now my obedient puppet, ready to supply as many weapons as I need, whenever I require them. For as long as my army needs him to. Quite beneficial."

The other members of the Syndicate, who had been rather silent until then, exchanged a look - a silent toast to their not-so-small victory. He should've seen this coming. After all, this was a business of sharks and any weakness would be sniffed out like blood in the water from a mile away - Zenyth cringed at how overconfident he'd been to think he had the upper hand.

Still, that didn't wound his boldness. In fact, the amount of paternal rage he was feeling right now only bolstered his defiance. He gave the High Councilman a venomous glare and this time, he was the one who smirked. "Or... maybe one day you'll wake up to a bomb under your bed and that shit-eating grin of yours will get splattered into smithereens halfway across the galaxy with everything in this fucking base if you don't give me back my son."

Hushed whispers from between the members of the council echoed from the high table and around the vast hall. The two men glared at each other for a long moment, but then the High Councilman broke the silence.

With a laugh.

"Are you sure you want to make that threat?" The older man asked, standing up, before gesturing at the holographic screen in front of him, casually, as if Zenyth's prior threats were no more than the annoying buzz of a fly "Because I've got at least five, very trigger-happy, soldiers waiting in the other line - and they're itching to hear their next command."

Zenyth said nothing in response, mouth forming a thin line as he took in the implications of the not-so-unspoken threat. His eyes practically boiled with rage, and if a glare could kill, each one of the Syndicate's members would be dead a long time ago.

The High Councilman leaned forward, "Thought so. Are we in an understanding?"

Zenyth took a long while to answer, simmering in his anger and using all of his willpower not to do something irreversible right now. After a long, drawn-out moment that felt like a whole minute, he answered "Yes."

With that, he didn't even wait for the other to say anything else and spun in his heels and beelined it out of the hall as fast as he could. Mind racing, his thoughts were torn between the impulsive urge to kill the entire Syndicate and trying to figure out a way to locate his son.

And he knew exactly who to call to bring this place crashing down.

Tagging (gently) @your-absent-father @ray-writes-n-shit @drchenquill, @saltysupercomputer @agirlandherquill

@sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart @sm-writes-chaos

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

Find The Word Tag✨️

Thanks for the tags @the-golden-comet @fortunatetragedy and @lychhiker-writes, I'm gonna pick and choose since there are so many words lol But I got some 🌶️spicy🌶️ lines with the ones I picked.

My Words: Ate, friendly, jest, ardent, conscious, building, hook, excuse, drown, fidget, gape, choice Your Words: Snarl, Hope, Tension, Sink

Color-coded for what character the clip is talking about: Kazimier💋, Klaus🌻, Seeker🌠, Valian🐁 from 🌐7 Circles🌐 ------------------

Ate: They ask over their shoulder, not sure what ifrits ate- or even what a third of the food stocked was precisely."I'll eat anything, me," Val says, hopping to his feet and heading to the fridge.

Friendly: The end product created a friendly, but rather mysterious picture of ‘The Ambassador from beyond the sky', as they took to calling the Kalilith on multiple media fronts.

Ardent: Kazimier raises a brow at the position, half expecting his meal to get on hands and knees. That means the rise in submissiveness, that ardent plea, those were for..

Conscious: Seeker pulls the blanket higher, shivering and covering their chest self-consciously, scandalized at their current state.

Hook: Kazimier hooks a few fingers around the collar, as if trying to give himself more room to breathe, and tips his head back, horns scraping the wall. Excuse: "If that ever comes to pass, you must find whoever you sell me to and tell me how you managed to explain away your involvement, Father," Klaus replies, baring his own fangs in what most people would mistake for a smile. "I'd love to see what excuse you feed to the Sovereign Executive for how I escaped your notice for such a long time."

Fidget: Their upper right hand fidgets in their lap, the east palm longing to reach out and hold Val's thin green fingers for reassurance.

Choice: His choice hadn't been made out of some misguided attempt to dodge his own complicity. How could it be? He's using Kazimier as a sacrifice..

Tagging @katenewmanwrites @zackprincebooks @officialauthorofanotherworld @wyked-ao3 @cowboybrunch @officialauthorofanotherworld @smellyrottentrees @urbiggestfan-01(no pressure) + Open Tag!

Heads up Seven Up/Last Writing/etc. ✨️

Thanks for the tags! I got enough of them that I'm just tagging my list of peers at the end lmao.

From Ch 5 of my WIP, 7 Circles:

Demyen had been trying to put Klaus in impossible positions for fourteen years, and loathe as Klaus is to admit it, he might have finally started looking for flaws in the right places. If Klaus shows Kazimier mercy, he risks exposure. If he doesn’t, he risks assimilation. In one fell swoop, Demyen had made Klaus feel on-edge in his own penthouse, taken away any lingering ability to ignore his complicity in the PA system, and given him a constant reminder of what is at stake if he’s stupid enough to soften towards the poor bastard who didn’t have any real choice in being Demyen’s pawn, even if he is annoyingly observant and always thinking, always tapping his fingers or playing with the hem of his clothes in want of something to fidget with.

It has only been two weeks, and Klaus is softening, and the bastard knows it.

He has worked himself into enough of a temper by the time he opens the door to the penthouse that he’s not even sure which of the two of them he’s cursing when a sharp crackling sound punches through the air, a pained sound from the bastard in question at it’s heels.

Shit!

I haven't been posting as much due to an unexpected death in the family but I'm still alive and kickin', just might not be as active for awhile 💙

Tagging: @katenewmanwrites @smellyrottentrees @wyked-ao3 @lychhiker-writes @the-golden-comet @fortunatetragedy @cowboybrunch @zackprincebooks @urbiggestfan-01 @quillswriting

WIP Wednesday ✍️

Time for a writing share!! For some reason I'm not getting notified for tags right now but I know @the-golden-comet and @tragedycoded got their writing shares out today~ Right now I'm working on 3rd drafting chapter 8 and chapter 9 and I'm STUCK in BOTH of them 🫠 🎉

Ch 8: In Proper Behavior (Seeker POV)

They go to see how Valian fared, moving very slowly, and very quietly so they wouldn’t disturb him. Seeker finds him cuddled up in the same closet they found him in yesterday. And oh.. he was achingly lovely- Lovely for his skin which was green like the moss fields beyond the Navesen Citadel, lovely for his hair white as clouds, and lovely for his eyes.. like Seekers, but a pure brilliant gold. Achingly, because when Seeker met him yesterday they thought his eyes made a nice contrast to his thick silver necklace that now glints coldly in Seeker’s knowledge. Achingly because they saw the silk wrapping around his lithe body and thought it enticing. Achingly because he was so small, over a foot shorter than They and so thin, his cheek bones prominently crowning his dimples, and yet that tiny body held the burden of an unjust system and ultimately- the burden of Seeker’s admiration which had put him here.

Ch 9: Tea/Party (Kazimier POV)

Kazimier figured he’d earned it- instigated and burned for it, even. It couldn’t be fuckin’ helped. The damn Nexi holding Kazimier’s leash had an even tighter leash over himself and had far too much self-control for his own good, and more importantly for the good of Kazimier.

Please sent me good writing energy and put in a word for me with the muses 🙏 I need a spark to get these chapters pressed and ready to show.

Tagging my 7C list: @gioiaalbanoart @biblicallyaccuratefruitbat @katenewmanwrites @lychhiker-writes @autism-purgatory

@wyked-ao3 @cowboybrunch @zackprincebooks @smellyrottentrees @aalinaaaaaa

@quillswriting @nbkuhn @ddgraywrites @desastreus @theglitchywriterboi

@shanakin-skywalker @honeybewrites @sincerelydorky (hmu to be +/-!)

Snippet from my queer polyamorous romance novel, Community Witch - an unapologetically trope-y, cozy, and relationship-driven romance story about the healing from trauma, found family, and joyful queer relationships. (Looking to publish next year.) ---

“My life has turned into a Lifemark movie,” Aspen groaned, flopping dramatically onto their bed. “Thirty year old enby leaves the big city, including their terrible partner and the job they hate, to move to a beautiful small town, has meet cute with beautiful stranger before running into The One That Got Away.”

There was a choking sound on the other end of the line.

“You’re allowed to laugh,” Aspen grumbled. “Even I think it’s ridiculous, and I’m living it.”

Becks didn’t laugh, but Aspen could hear the grin in her voice. “I assume the beautiful stranger is Rav, but who is The One That Got Away?”

“Remember that guy I was hopelessly in love with in high school? The wholesome football player?”

“Maybe?”

“My best friend? The one that was over all the time?”

“Oh my god, that himbo you tutored, then pined for the rest of high school? The one you wanted to smash from orbit?”

“Not a himbo,” Aspen bristled, unable to argue with the rest of Becks’ description. “Anyway. She’s Nat now. I ran into her at the gym just now when I was dropping off cards around town. And we’re going to catch up when she’s done with work.”

This time, Becks did laugh – gleeful peals that made Aspen smile despite themself.

Update: WELP. IT HAPPENED.

Apparently I'm writing a multi-chapter fanfic of characters from a novel that hasn't been published yet to work through That Trans Shit idk

---

[Set in the universe of Community Witch - my queer polyamorous romance novel that I'm currently working on getting published.] Dee jumped as Corey dropped onto the couch beside them, having been too lost in thought to register that he had returned from his errand.

"So," he said ominously.

Dee looked at the sketchbook in their lap and winced at the blank page staring up at them. "Yes?"

Their partner patiently took the sketchbook and set it on the coffee table, forcing Dee to look up at him. "You're doing that thing again," he admonished gently. "Where you have a crisis and refuse to talk to anyone about it."

"I don't... I mean. It's not--"

Corey gave them a Look. "You do," he said irritably, tapping his chest in an oblique reminder of their magical bond. "And even just getting the edges of whatever it is you're worrying about is enough to give me a headache. So stop shutting me out and just... talk to me?"

Dee's resistance crumbled at the softness in his infuriatingly beautiful brown eyes. "Is Yulia...?"

"She'll be working outside for a while, but we could go upstairs if you like."

Dee nodded jerkily, the thought of being interrupted by the old woman who had essentially adopted them both still somehow completely overwhelming.

Corey's lips twitched into a smile as he abruptly slung them over his shoulder, lifting them effortlessly to carry them toward the stairs. Dee laughed despite themself and didn't bother to pretend, as they usually did, that they didn't enjoy it.

Once upstairs, he tossed them onto the bed before kicking the door behind him. However, when Dee stretched provocatively and batted their eyes flirtatiously, he just settled onto the bed next to them with a look that said he wasn't going to fall for their stalling tactics this time.

There was a long, horrible silence.

"This is the part where you say things," Corey finally prompted.

- - -

Dee felt as if they'd been pounded flat and hung out to dry by the time they were done crying. Once they'd cleaned themself up, they lay listlessly in Corey's arms, too physically miserable to really feel any of their emotions.

"So. Wanting to do more transition," Corey prompted. "What does that mean?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Dee confessed. "I know that I want a dick, but I don't want surgery. Eighty percent satisfaction rate isn't high enough. And. I think I want top surgery. But I'm not sure." They paused to take a deep shuddering breath. "I'm not sure I want to give up what it feels like when you. Um. Touch them."

Corey made the thoughtful noise that Dee had long since learned to interpret as his "processing" sound. When he finally spoke, his tone was cautious. "You might not need surgery. I could... if you wanted, that is. Look into using magic?"

Dee blinked. "I thought you didn't--"

"I don't." He grimaced. "I mean, witchcraft doesn't work for that kind of thing. But I know some very highly placed fae who, as you may remember, owe me some pretty fucking big favors."

Dee couldn't help but goggle at him. "And you'd be willing to use them... for me?"

"I want you to be happy," Corey repeated earnestly. "Just." He smiled and brushed a stray hair away from their eye. "We're talking about fae, so the devil is very much in the details here. You'd need to take time to decide what you do and don't want."

Dee nodded. "I will. And." They picked anxiously at his shirt. "You'll still want to have sex with me? If that's what I want?"

"No surgery means no nerve damage, which means playing with your nipples will still be just as fun. Not to mention..." Corey smiled wolfishly. "Getting to figure out what makes you come all over again sounds pretty hot."

Dee laughed tremulously as the tight knot of anxiety inside them finally began to loosen. "I should have known you'd get hot and bothered about getting to do more research."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Corey shot back, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "There are so many questions that need answering. How will you feel about handjobs? Blowjobs? Do you still want me to fuck you, or would you rather fuck me?"

Dee's mouth went dry as they were hit with a sudden mental image of Corey moaning in pleasure as their cock slid into him - something they hadn't even known they wanted until he said it.

"See?" he said smugly, pulling them down into a long slow kiss. "Research is great."

tfw you're still working on a second draft of a novel and you have the almost undeniable urge to write fanfic of your own novel because you've got Some Trans Shit To Work Through

Prompt courtesy @creativepromptsforwriting with characters from an as-yet-unpublished original project (okay to RB) the waiter was supposed to bring a dessert with an engagement ring to the table next to them, but brings it to them and now the awkwardness has reached new heights

Corey had been slightly horrified when Dee had first suggested that they observe the first anniversary of their near-breakup by revisiting the same fancy restaurant where they'd run into Dee's ex - an encounter that had ended with Corey storming off shortly before Dee started screaming at their ex in the parking lot.

"If we can't laugh at ourselves, what can we laugh at?" Dee had pointed out. "Plus, I was too stressed out to enjoy the food last time. It'd be nice to go back and properly taste the food this time."

So Corey had (somewhat against his better judgment) allowed himself to be convinced. He even relaxed enough to enjoy himself, despite his anxiety, when they made it through the appetizer course without any relationship-threatening arguments or misunderstandings.

And then dessert happened.

He should have known better, he realized as he stared with horror at the slice of cheesecake that had just been placed in front of them by a nervous-looking server. Amid hand-piped chocolate and caramel hearts sat a delicate, horrifyingly feminine diamond engagement ring that Corey had never seen before.

Corey felt the blood drain from his face as he looked up at Dee. "I'm not... I-I didn't...I would never get you something like that," he stammered, regretting his choice of words as soon as they had left his mouth. "I mean, because of your gender," he added hurriedly. "Because it's not... and you're..." he made a helpless gesture meant to encompass the whole of Dee's transmasculine dandy sense of fashion.

Dee, who was still staring at the ring with a completely unreadable expression, turned a brilliant scarlet.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Had Dee gotten the ring for him? "N-not that I don't... uh... that is, if you were..."

The woman at the next table was staring at them, her eyebrows practically on the ceiling while her companion beckoned their server over to have an urgently whispered conversation.

"What?" Dee yelped, shrinking back in their seat. "I wouldn't-- I mean, I would, but I didn't... but. Oh god. Don't tell me I should have?"

"I'm so sorry," their server interjected, looking mortified as he removed the offending dish and delivered it to the next table. "My mistake, your dessert will be right out," he said before scurrying off to the kitchen.

Now everyone was staring at them.

The prospect of having to sit through the nice straight couple's public proposal made Corey want to peel his skin off. "I need air," he choked out before fleeing to the washroom.

He slunk back to the table a few minutes later to find Dee staring blankly at an appropriately jewelry-free piece of cheesecake. "Sorry," he mumbled as he slouched into his seat. "I just. I couldn't."

"I know," Dee said quickly, reaching across the table to lay a hand on his arm.

"It's just." Corey took a deep breath and attempted to wrestle his panic down enough to form a coherent sentence. "It wouldn't have been unwelcome, but we've never... we haven't talked about it."

Dee opened their mouth. Closed it. Then visibly blanched at something over his shoulder. "Oh god," they muttered, sinking even further down in their seat.

Sure enough, a manager appeared at Corey's elbow, so full of apologetic obsequiousness that Corey had to put his face in his hands and mildly dissociate while she had a short conversation with Dee.

"We're getting our meal comped," Dee said once the manager had left.

Corey took a deep breath. Put his hands in his lap. Sat up. "Good."

Dee looked every bit as embarrassed as he felt. "We don't need to talk about it, just... Tell me if it's bad that I hadn't thought of talking about it before now?"

"No," Corey said firmly. "I hadn't thought about it either."

Dee looked profoundly relieved. "Then how about this: we agree to keep not thinking about it for another six months."

"Deal."

The cheesecake was, at least, delicious.

"This was a bad idea, and I apologize," Dee muttered as they were leaving the restaurant. "We should never come here again."

"It's not your fault," Corey corrected before giving his partner a sheepish grin. "But no, I'm definitely never coming here again."

Date Mishaps

a misunderstanding about where they would be meeting, so both are waiting at a different location

a last minute emergency means they have to bring someone else with them on the date (e.g. child, little sibling, pet)

they were absolutely not dressed for the weather and end up getting completely wet in the rain

one of their phones is dead and they can't reach each other

even though they had reservations, the restaurant is closed

one of them gets hurt on the date, which makes them end up in the ER

they met online without a proper picture of each other and they keep missing each other at the bar, not able to find out who their actual date is

the waiter was supposed to bring a dessert with an engagement ring to the table next to them but brings it to them and now the awkwardness has reached new heights

they are doing speed dating, but unfortunately they already know each person of the other sex that is there

a date on a boat is nice until a swan attacks and someone falls into the water

they are both not local and they keep getting lost

their boss/parents/friends are also on a date in the same restaurant

one of them gets called back into work for an emergency and their date insists to walk them there

they thought they would have a date with someone else and are confused by who actually shows up

More: Date Gone Wrong

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Snippet from my queer polyamorous romance novel, Community Witch - an unapologetically trope-y, cozy, and relationship-driven romance story about the healing from trauma, found family, and joyful queer relationships. (Looking to publish next year.) --- Aspen snorted. “What am I even going to do about tonight? I don’t know that it’s a date, but if it is… what do I do about coffee with Rav next week?”

Becks’ answering sigh was a mix of fond and exasperated. “First, it’s coffee, not a betrothal. Second, porque no los dos?”

“What?”

“It means ‘why not both’.”

“I know perfectly well what it means. But--”

Becks cut Aspen off. “You can date more than one person.”

Aspen scoffed. “I’m still not convinced I’m not too much of a disaster for one relationship, let alone two.”

“Look. Stop being a weirdo and go get dinner with the hot jock, okay?” Aspen heard Rachel yell something in the background, which Becks then repeated for Aspen’s benefit. “And send photos.”“I will not,” Aspen said firmly, then hung up.

Prompt courtesy @creativepromptsforwriting with characters from Community Witch, my as-yet-unpublished queer poly romance novel (okay to RB)

Rav had left his partners looking at potential wedding dates when he ducked out to the kitchen for more coffee. When he returned, both Aspen and Nat were scowling at each other.

"What do you mean it wasn't a date?" Nat asked indignantly. "Of course it was a date!"

"It wasn't a date," Aspen insisted bullishly. "Because it happened completely by accident, and you'd never shown any interest in dating me in high school."

Nat rolled her eyes. "For fuck's sake. You're as bad as Rav sometimes."

"Not that I'm disagreeing, but in what way?" Rav asked mildly, grinning when Nat jumped and cringed guiltily.

"Not being able to pick up on blindingly obvious social cues" Nat replied.

"Insisting that words have meaning," Aspen said simultaneously.

"Whoa." Rav held up his hand and perched on the edge of the couch. "Okay. Aspen, how did this start?"

"Nat suggested seeing if one of our many anniversaries is on a Saturday, which is how we discovered that we apparently different definitions of what 'date' means."

"Aspen thinks that spending four hours walking around town, including a romantic sunset walk on the beach, doesn't constitute a date."

Rav cleared his throat, but was roundly ignored by both of his partners.

"I didn't even know you were living in Parksville!" Aspen protested. "And you said we should 'catch up', not 'do you want to go on a date'."

"Earth to Aspen, 'catching up' is code for 'date', and I was hanging off your arm and making calf eyes at you the entire night! Plus, by your own logic, getting coffee shouldn't count as a date either, even though I kissed you at the end of the night."

Aspen crossed their arms. "I asked if it was a date and you said yes, which makes it a date."

"I think--" Rav began, only to be cut off once more.

"Aha!" Nat stabbed a triumphant finger in Aspen's direction. "If retroactive date-labeling makes coffee a date, then the first one is also definitely a date."

"Please. It was, like, a half-date."

"There's no such thing as half a date!"

Aspen shrugged. "You never dated William."

"No fair." Nat pouted. "You can't play the shitty ex card."

"Maybe," Rav said loudly enough to finally get their attention. "You could accept that different people have different definitions for social constructs like dates, and that different definitions aren't automatically incorrect."

"Right." Aspen said slowly, their eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just like different chili recipes are equally valid."

When Nat's eyes blazed, Rav cut their partners off with a firm, "No. Arguments later. Date-picking now, which means picking a date that includes all three of us."

"Fine," Nat sighed.

"Thank you. Now..." Rav gestured for Aspen to lift their legs so that he could sit between Aspen and Nat, with Aspen stretching out across his lap once he'd settled. "What about our first date with the three of us?"

"Oh, sweetie," Aspen laughed. "Now you're just opening a very similar but entirely new can of worms."

Rav blinked, puzzled. "Am I?"

Nat exchanged an amused look with Aspen. "What would you say our first date was, then?"

Rav took a sip of coffee in a futile attempt to cover his ears going bright pink. "When I was over for dinner and we finally, uh... you know." Aspen and Nat exchanged another, more smug look. "Well what would you say it was, then?"

Aspen cocked their head and thought for a moment. "The first time we did dinner and a movie?" they asked Nat.

"Mm. I was thinking the play. The movie had too much friend-hangout plausible deniability."

"Oh, yeah. You're right, I can totally see that."

Rav fidgeted uncomfortably as he turned an even brighter shade of pink. "That was a date? I thought..."

Aspen and Nat were both staring at him with shit-eating grins.

"I see that I was wrong to intervene," he grumbled. "I liked you more when you were arguing with each other instead of ganging up on me."

When Rav made as if to get up, Aspen octopused themself around him, nearly spilling his coffee. "Don't be like that," they whined. "Staaaaaay. We'll be good."

Rav gave Aspen a sour look. "I highly doubt that."

"Our feelings-and-fucking-versary is actually on a Saturday, if we're still looking at next year," Nat said, looking at her phone.

"Great!" Aspen exclaimed.

"We are not calling it that." Rav realized his mistake as soon as the words had left his mouth, sighed, and course corrected. "Or rather, we're not telling wedding guests about the fucking part."

"Deal," Nat and Aspen chorused.

"Remind me why I'm marrying you again?"

Prompt #1106: IYO (19)

Imagine your OTP where both of them cannot agree on what their first date was.

What If... Part 2 (blatant Trans Wish Fulfilment Smut)

Working through Personal Trans Shit with fanfic of my own characters from a project I haven't published yet. Smutty smut under the cut. Content note for bottom dysphoria.

Kissing, as it usually did, led to other things. (Even after more than two years together Corey and Dee still struggled to keep their hands off one another when given the opportunity.) Corey was almost unbearably sweet as he undressed Dee, asking if they'd wanted to leave their binder on (they didn't) and urging them to tell him if something felt wrong.

However, while Dee wouldn't have said that anything felt wrong, exactly, neither did it feel right. Corey was doing all the things that used to drive them wild, but the physical sensations felt as if they were coming from a million miles away. As if they were happening to someone else. Their body gasped and moaned at his touch, but it didn't feel like it meant anything.

Corey's tongue was warm and wet as he lapped at their clit, but Dee found themself reaching for their bond, for the feeling of Corey's cock, which was hard, throbbing, and entirely too untouched for Dee's liking, as he was entirely focused on them at the moment.

What was wrong with them? Why couldn't they just enjoy this?

When the answer hit a moment later, Dee felt as if all the air had been knocked from their body. They weren't enjoying it because they... didn't want to be doing it. This. Because what they wanted...

Their brain struggled to complete the sentence as Corey's hand teasingly brushed the inside of their thigh, then slowly traveled upward.

What they wanted--

...his fingers gently stroked the outer edge of their labia, before...

What they really wanted--

...he slid two fingers into them, and--

And they couldn't bear it, couldn't stand the way it took them out of focusing on what he felt and how it reminded them of what they didn't have. Because what they wanted was for Corey to touch himself, to feel second-hand through their bond what he felt with a hand wrapped around his dick. They wanted to come from feeling his pleasure, because they couldn't feel their own anymore.

"Stop," Dee gasped, bursting into tears.

Corey stopped immediately, and the sense of shared awareness faded as Corey lost his concentration. Dee felt that loss of sensation almost as keenly as they felt the pain of realizing that they didn't want to be touched - all of which was wrapped up with intense self-disgust. They curled into a tiny ball of shame and sobbed, feeling as if their world was coming apart at the seams.

"Hey. Hey, now." Corey's voice was soft and low as he wrapped himself around them. "You didn't do anything wrong, okay? So just breathe."

Dee tried to do as he said, but they were powerless against the tremors wracking them. "I wanted to like it. I used to like it so much."

"You can't force yourself to like something," Corey said firmly. "And you shouldn't try."

"But I don't want to hate having sex with you," Dee all but wailed.

Corey hesitated. "I... Obviously I can't know what you're feeling. But I promise you that we'll get through this, okay? However you feel right now isn't the way it's going to be forever."

Dee laughed despite themself. "You can't know that," they hiccuped.

"Yes I can," Corey shot back, a smile audible in his voice. "You know how stubborn I can be about pointless stuff. Imagine how much more stubborn I can be about something that really matters to me."

Again, Dee laughed, then shuddered as they were able to take one shaky breath. Then another.

"Good." Corey kissed the back of their neck. "Now. Talk to me?"

"It's probably weird, but it's like... my body is reacting like I'm enjoying myself, but I can't connect with it, because I..." Dee had to struggle to force the next word out. "Hate. Not having a dick. And when you touch me like that, I can't... I can't not think about how much I hate it."

Corey was quiet for a long moment, and Dee could feel him probing tentatively at the edge of their feelings. "You've been having these feelings for a long time, haven't you?" He finally asked. When Dee nodded miserably and tried to curl up even more, he wrapped his arms tightly around their waist. "You're okay. I'm not upset."

"It's not you! It's me! It's everything I grew up with telling me that I'm gross, and awful, and disgusting. And the Pope saying I'm a fucking war crime for having those feelings."

"Okay. Well. Can you turn and look at me here?"

Grudgingly, Dee uncurled and turned over so they could see Corey's face.

"You're not a war crime," he said sternly. "And I don't think you're gross and disgusting. Obviously. So. Set those feelings to the side for now and talk to me about this dysphoria. How did all this start, and where are you now? I want to understand so I can help you better."

Dee nodded and wiped their eyes as they consulted their feelings and tried to put them into something resembling a logical order. "I didn't realize until... pretty recently that what I was feeling was dysphoria," they said slowly. "Because it just started as thinking. You know. Wouldn't it be hot to have a dick? When you do that thing where you turn on Feelings Sharing, I liked feeling how you felt when I touched your dick. And, God, I liked feeling what it felt like when you fucked me. And for a long time that's all it was. Thinking about what it would be like to have a dick, but being fine with not having one.

"Until it started becoming... not fine. So I just... started focusing more on you and less on me when we had sex. And then finally, a couple days ago, I realized that I couldn't come at all anymore unless I was focusing on what you felt and pretending that you were me. And that's when the wheels started coming off the bus."

Corey's expression was gentle as he tangled his fingers through Dee's hair. "That's why you've been mostly wanting me to fuck you these last few months?"

Dee cringed. "I could tell you liked feeling what I felt, and I told myself what I was doing wasn't any different. Because acknowledging how I felt would have meant doing something about it, and I was scared. And ashamed."

"Okay. Well. Tomorrow I'm going to talk to Barnabus. Because honestly, that sounds pretty bad, and like something we should take really seriously. And no, I won't mention anything embarrassing. All right?"

Dee nodded, hating the way their lower lip wobbled as they did so.

"Great. In the meantime... what do you want to do right now? Do you want to stop?"

"No," Dee grumped, which earned a confused look from Corey. "I'm just mad that you eating me out is off the table because you're really good at it."

Corey's lusciously thick lips curved into a smile. "Okay, well. Why don't you use our magic while I fuck you, since you said that helps your dysphoria?"

"I mean." Dee bit their lip anxiously. "You're sure it's okay for me to use you like that?"

"Put it this way," Corey said, the love in his big, beautiful brown eyes so intense that Dee wanted to melt right into them. "Your dysphoria is clearly causing you a lot of pain. So given a choice between 'not having sex because it's painful and distressing for you' and 'using our magic to make sex enjoyable and non-dyphoric for you', which do you think I'm going to go with?"

Dee's throat closed again and they had to breathe deeply to fight off yet another wave of tears. "That makes sense," they managed.

"In fact, let's try this. Lie on your back and close your eyes."

Curious to see where he was going with this, Dee complied, and a moment later felt it as Corey invoked the bond between them. (He'd tried before to explain how he'd did it, but his explanations had never made any sense to Dee.)

Corey's voice was low and soothing as he spoke. "You don't have to touch me, okay? And you don't have to think about you. Forget the sheets, forget the pillows, and just focus on what I'm feeling."

Dee breathed slowly as they cataloged the sensations of their own body before setting them aside. They could feel Corey stretched out on the bed next to them, all of his weight on one elbow. His cock was mostly soft, but they could feel his warm rush of arousal as he began to harden again.

"You with me?" he asked quietly as he placed a hand on his cock.

"Yes," Dee groaned.

Corey's rich baritone was playing arpeggios on their spine, even as they could feel his cock hardening further. "There's no you and me like this. We're both me right now, and that's okay, because I want to share this with you. Understand?"

Dee shivered as Corey ran a thumb over the tip of his cock. "Yes."

"Good." Corey took himself in hand. "Now feel your hand wrapped around your cock," he instructed, with only a faint emphasis on the pronouns.

Dee's eyes prickled with unshed tears as the power of that phrase - your cock - sparked something big and powerful and inside them.

"Now feel yourself stroking your cock," Corey continued as he started to do so. Dee focused on the feeling of delicious opposites - the soft skin of his cock against his lightly callused palm, the hardness of it against the fleshy base of his thumb. It was easier like this, they discovered, to feel their own arousal, even as they were focusing on his.

"Do you still want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," Dee gasped.

Corey chuckled as he leaned over to get the lube from the bedside table. A moment later, there was the strangely appealing sensation of Corey applying lube to himself, and then he was on top of them, his weight carefully on his knees and elbows as he gently kissed their forehead. "Do what you need to do," he reminded them. "If that means lying still, then lie still. Whatever you need."

Dee nodded, not trusting their voice.

Corey carefully positioned the head of his cock at their entrance before slowly sliding into them, taking several second to bury himself to the hilt.

Frustratingly, Dee found it difficult to hold onto the idea that they were Corey now that he was inside them. How could they be fucking themself? But somehow, Corey divined the source of their difficulty, and said just the right thing. "You're not fucking you, right now. You're fucking me, because we switched." Slowly, so very fucking slowly he began to withdraw from them. "And I said that was okay. So that makes this your dick, that you're using to fuck me."

That did the trick.

Dee moaned as Corey... as they reversed course and slowly fucked back into Corey. And sure, the analogy didn't totally make sense, but it didn't need to as long as they focused on the feeling of their dick and how incredible it felt thrusting into Corey's wet velvet heat.

"Yes," they whispered. "More. I want to fuck you harder."

Corey groaned, the rush of arousal he felt as he obliged spilling over into Dee, who reveled in the feeling of blood rushing to their already achingly-hard cock. And suddenly, after months of increasingly-maddening struggles to connect their body to their feelings, Dee had what they needed to get out of their own way.

They moaned, and Corey moaned, and they both moaned as Dee fucked Corey. Distantly, somewhere far away, they knew they were crying, their tears leaking down the sides of their face and into their hair, but that was something they could deal with later. Right now all that mattered was the feeling of Corey wrapped around their cock and the slick, incredible friction as they fucked him. They weren't able to last long at all before Corey clenched around them... or they clenched around Corey... it was hard to hold onto the metaphor as their, his cock twitched and spilled into them, and their body writhed underneath him with the power of his, of their mutual, utterly shattering release.

(Read Part 1 on AO3 here)

Part 3 of What If... is up

In which I write fic of my own characters before the actual project they come from is published... Partly because I want to work through some Personal Trans Shit, but partly because I want to write wish fulfilment fantasy about magical HRT and trans enby porn.

From Chapter 3:

Unsure of the etiquette, Dee swept into a low bow. "Lady Eachna, I presume."

"No need for that," she said, rising gracefully from the desk. Eachna gestured toward a pair of chairs in the corner, taking one for herself while Dee awkwardly took the other. "Any friend of Sebastian's is a friend of mine. Now. I understand you're having trouble with options for gender transition that are being compounded by the human world's strict gender binary?"

Dee blinked, surprised to hear their problem so accurately summarized by a stranger. "I mean. Yeah. That's... yeah."

"So. Tell me more about that. What are you looking for, specifically?"

When Dee blushed and looked at their feet, Eachna smiled reassuringly. "I promise, whatever you may think, nothing you say could shock or disgust me. For one, I'm old. Far, far older than I look. Certainly old enough to have seen pretty much everything.

"For another, most fae see gender as a game that you play, not a thing that you are. Not having a binary gender, or having a gender that changes over time is extremely common here, and as a healer, I see those seeking changes that go deeper than mere illusion all the time.

"Lastly, I want to help because I owe your partner a debt. I don't like debts, so helping you is something that benefits both of us. So feel free to be brutally frank about what you need."

Part 1 here

Part 2, with that Good Trans Wish Fulfilment Smut here

Snippet from my queer polyamorous romance novel, Community Witch - an unapologetically trope-y, cozy, and relationship-driven romance story about the healing from trauma, found family, and joyful queer relationships. (Looking to publish next year.) --- As they drifted back to Nat’s car, the anxiety beast clawed its way back with a vengeance, keeping Aspen from working up the nerve to take Nat’s hand. What if they had misread Nat’s interest? What if all she wanted was to be friends? Surely it couldn’t be this easy the second time around? It was only when they pulled up in front of their house that Aspen managed to wrestle their anxiety down enough to blurt out the question that had been burning in their mind the entire night.

“Was this a date?”

Nat smiled, as calmly unflappable as ever, and cocked her head. “Did you want it to be?” she asked softly.

Aspen felt their face grow suddenly, painfully warm and nodded, unwilling to trust their voice. Nat’s smile grew, and Aspen’s breath hitched as she slowly took their hand and stroked their palm with her thumb. “Then yes, it was a date.” She leaned forward slowly, looked down at their lips, then back up into their eyes. “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

New FFXIV fic: Shut Up And Let Me Suck Your Dick Already

This started as a short fic about the humor of Alisaie having to browbeat my WoL into letting her suck their dick despite their age difference.

(I am aware the devs claim that everything since 2.0 has happened in less than a year. That is a filthy lie.)

And then somewhere along the way, it morphed into a 4.5K word fic that reflects on the inherent tension between "power imbalances are created by large age gaps in ways that are usually pretty gross " and "saying that 'it is not okay to have large age differences in relationships even when both people are adults' infantalizes people and denies their agency"...

...while still being a fic about wanting to suck dick.

- - -

"Alisaie..." I began, placing a hand on her shoulder. When she didn't shake it off, I drew her into a hug, thinking only to offer comfort.

However, instead of resisting, Alisaie threw her arms around my neck and hauled me into a deep kiss.

It felt like being struck by lightning. I gasped as her lips moved on mine, parted them reflexively when she licked into my mouth. She pulled herself tightly against me and kissed me like I was the only thing keeping her from drowning, and everything fell away but the feeling of her soft lips and our tongues sliding against one another.

I may have moaned in her mouth.

Which may, had it happened, have emboldened her. Or it may have simply been her own initiative that led to her grab my butt.

With a groan, I broke the kiss and held her at arm's length. "We can't do this," I said sternly, even as the sight of her kiss-swollen lips made me want to kiss her more.

Alisaie took this as well as expected, which is to say not well. "Why not?" she demanded, her expression thunderous.

"You're a child." I'd meant to sound implacable. Unyielding. But my voice came out thin and pleading.

"I'm not a child," she shot back heatedly. "For the love of Thaliak, I'll be twenty in a few weeks!"

"That doesn't make it right," I growled. My face was on fire, which I can't imagine helped my argument much. "You're so much younger than me."

Alisaie gave ground - it definitely wasn't a retreat - crossed her arms, and glared at me. "Oh and that makes me too impressionable, does it?" she scoffed. "Do you seriously think you could make me do anything I didn't want to do?"

No. I didn't. But I wasn't going to tell her that.

Alisaie's eyes narrowed. "Tell me you don't want me, and I'll drop it," she said in glacial tones.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. There was no point in denying it - she'd know I was lying. She always knew. "Tesleen is waiting," I finally said helplessly.

Alisaie snorted in satisfaction as she shouldered the bag with our purchases, roundly ignoring my attempt to take the bag myself. "We are not done talking about this," she said, jabbing me in the sternum. Hard.

Read the whole thing on AO3!