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kiwiana-writes · 9 days

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WIP Wednesday

Thanks @suseagull04 and @onthewaytosomewhere and @getmehighonmagic (happy birthday my friend!!) for the tags! Sharing a bit more of the age gap fic with an older, Senator Alex—as always, if this isn't your cup of tea, I fully support your right to make judicious use of the back button/keep scrolling rather than moralising at me. If, however, a greying and distinguished Alex and Henry's thirst for him is your thing, read on:

“You Googled me.” “I did.” Henry shrugs, unapologetic. “Your Wikipedia page is even longer than mine.” “Oh, my god.” Alex scrubs a hand through his hair, the sunlight catching on the silver strands. Henry itches to bury his fingers in them, wants to know what sort of noises Alex would make if Henry tugged on those curls. “Well, at least there are a few pictures on there of me in my prime, I guess.” Henry raises an eyebrow. “I would very much argue that you’re in your prime now.” Alex chokes on a surprised laugh. “Your Royal Highness—” “Henry.” “Henry.” Alex tips his head back as he closes his eyes, drawing an audible breath in through his nose. When he meets Henry’s gaze again, he’s clearly conflicted. “What is this, exactly?” Henry’s never shagged a sitting politician. Lots of politician’s sons, of course, and most likely plenty of future politicians as well, but never a sitting politician, whether of this country or any other country. He’s suddenly, viscerally aware that he could change that; that Alex might actually be receptive to him changing that. That this isn’t all in his head, or one-sided. He leans in, the three or so inches he has on Alex suddenly seeming like a lot more, and he’s rewarded with a hitched, shaky breath he’s not sure Alex is aware he’s let loose. “On this side of the pond we call it flirting, darling.”

Tagging @agame-writes @anincompletelist @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @piratefalls @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

#wip wednesday #kiwiana-writes #wip: older alex #fic: warm like the glow that you feel head to toe

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firenati0n · 16 days

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wip wednesday <3 :)

hello friends :) thank you to @priincebutt @suseagull04 @rmd-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @eusuntgratie for the tags! early for me today, what a shocker lmfao

here's a snip from a new actor au i have affectionately named chris nolan!alex and cillian murphy!henry fuck around and find out. i spoke about it first here during the wip game. collaborators to friends to lovers to exes to enemies to grudging partners to friends to lovers:

“And the Oscar goes to…Alex Claremont-Diaz for [movie name]!” Alex can’t hear the applause over the heartbeat absolutely pounding in his ears, drowning out the praise. He gets up from his seat in a trance, his eyes finding the only person at this table who matters in this moment. Henry is looking at him with adoration overflowing in his bottomless blue eyes—Alex can’t get enough of those fucking eyes. They’re Henry’s moneymaker, that’s for certain. Now, they’re Alex’s everything. He wordlessly gives Henry a hug, feels strong arms wrap around his shoulder and waist. He presses his cheek into the curve of Henry’s neck, scrunching his eyes shut briefly, knowing the cameras are zoomed in on his every expression. He wishes he could tuck this moment safely away from prying eyes, press it in between the pages of the script that brought them together; he wishes he could keep something for himself in this business, keep something sacred. He wishes he was allowed to want things he can’t have without fear of them slipping away. He wishes and he wants.

xoxo roop

+ no pressure tags under the cut and open tag as always <3 please tag me if you use! i want to seeeeee :)

@ninzied @cha-melodius @sparklepocalypse @cricketnationrise @orchidscript @getmehighonmagic @myheartalivewrites @welcometololaland @anincompletelist @nocoastposts @tintagel-or-cockleshells @sherryvalli @lizzie-bennetdarcy @heysweetheart-writes @inexplicablymine @onward--upward @celeritas2997 @affectionatelyrs @14carrotghoul @cultofsappho @anchoredarchangel @candyspandemonium @porcelainmortal @nontoxic-writes @junebugclaremontdiaz @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @piratefalls @bigassbowlingballhead @alasse9 @ships-to-sail @kiwiana-writes @onthewaytosomewhere @wordsofhoneydew @magicandarchery @duchessdepolignaca03 @saturntheday @itsmaybitheway @captainjunglegym @indestructibleheart @oxfordslutphase @tailsbeth-writes @happiness-of-the-pursuit @candyspandemonium @futureseaempress

#roop writes #rwrb fic #fics #wip wednesday #actor au #rwrb #fic: nolanmurphy firstprince #chels this is all you're getting fr #this is your snippet #this is your morsel #and then i am REFRAINING FROM SHARING MORE

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hgejfmw-hgejhsf · 2 months

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WIP Wednesday!

Ahh, another pre-scheduled WIP Wednesday while I am snoozing the night away because I selfishly like to awaken to see what those of you who are night owls (or in other time zones) think of my snippets first thing in the morning when I wake up. Much love to @getmehighonmagic and @whimsymanaged for the early tags so that I could justify scheduling a post at midnight! Haha

This snippet is from the 600 words I managed to write last night for what I hope is an upcoming little one shot (and partial songfic) featuring a really important anniversary for Henry and how he deals with it.

He finds himself jealous of his younger self, ignorant of the pain that’s already written in permanent ink into his future, though he still has several chapters of seemingly blank parchment to fill before he reaches it. An unstoppable, unchangeable moment scratched so violently into the page that it tears holes into the chapters that follow, forcing him to find ways around, under, or even through the chasm ripped into his life’s story as he attempts to continue on. With each new page, the tear begins to close, little by little, until it appears healed to the naked eye. But the weight of it, of the pen bearing down, is heavy enough that there’s a permanence to every remaining sheet. A scar, denting the smooth surface before the ink has even had a chance to properly sink in. He knows it will remain there for as long as his story lasts, never quite healing back to the pristine perfection of a truly blank page, waiting and begging to be touched by the smooth lines of a pen, the scratch of a quill, or the click of a typewriter.

No pressure tags under the cut for all my lovelies!

@adreamareads @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @barbiediaz @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @daisymae-12 @duchessdepolignaca03 @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable @guillermosfamiliar @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @indomitable-love @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @leojfitz @lfg1986-2 @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @msmarvelouswinchester @mulderscully @ninzied @notspecialbabe @onthewaytosomewhere @priincebutt @rockyroadkylers @ships-to-sail @songliili @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @suseagull04 @theprinceandagcd @thinkof-england @tintagel-or-cockleshells @typicalopposite @user-anakin @vanillahigh00 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @wordsofhoneydew @zwiazdziarka

#wip wednesday #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #rwrb fanfiction #my fics #my wips #my writing

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inexplicablymine · 2 months

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Some Sentences Sunday

So here are uhhh more than 7 sentences of the next Little Drummerboy update because I have no self control.

“You mean the author?” Alex looks down at the byline and sees a familiar last name grace the page. Allison Tidwell. She’s a mouthpiece for JRR and usually speaks favorably about Kensington as well. She’d prey on young stars like a vulture, haggard and gaunt, looking for its next meal. She would misquote, misassign, and misdirect those she interviewed making artists look worse, planting feuds and all around being a shitty person. “Ahh Shitwell, yeah I’m familiar with her writing, we know when it's coming because it stinks up the room before it arrives.” Henry snorts next to him and holds his hand out for a fistbump. It is highly unlike him to do so, but Alex had told him to start assimilating into the culture of the Luna Records or he was going to burn all of Henry’s button down shirts in an effigy to the fashion gods. Pez was around at the time and lifted his hands up in an amen gesture. Henry had been upset that his “two best friends were ganging up on him like this.” Alex took that statement and tucked it between his ribcage for safekeeping.

I am also counting this as my last line tag as well!!

Thank you for the tags: @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @onthewaytosomewhere @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @wordsofhoneydew @littlemisskittentoes @suseagull04 @rockyroadkylers @happiness-of-the-pursuit @alasse9 @three-drink-amy @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @iboatedhere @welcometololaland

AND ALSO TAGGING: (and open tag tag me BACK I WANT TO SEE YOUR WORDS) @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @affectionatelyrs @cultofsappho @whimsymanaged @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @cha-melodius @tintagel-or-cockleshells @dumbpeachjuice @cricketnationrise @myheartalivewrites @matherines @onward--upward @orchidscript @leojfitz @lizzie-bennetdarcy @gayrootvegetable @gay-flyboys @everwitch-magiks @indomitable-love @indestructibleheart

#fic: little drummerboy #inexplicablymine writes #inexplicablymine wip #red white and royal blue #firstprince #ao3 #rwrb #inexplicablymine

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elevenelvenswords · 2 months

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The soft glow of Laurelin's fading light poured through the stained glass window. It broke and bled into sylphlike rays, bathing the chamber in bashful gold and crimson. Upon the single bed placed close to the windowsill, Curufin shifted, angling his book towards the light. The elegant Tengwar scribbled across the pages danced giddily beneath the newly acquired gleam, and more steadily he managed to follow the text then.

Like the precious, conscientious son he was, he did his father’s bidding- extensive studies of metallurgical work were required to find a solution to the most recent impediment in the alchemical works in their forge. One of the newly discovered gems, brought forth by Aulë himself, proved too great a challenge in terms of fine sculpting, and even Fëanor seemed at a loss when they discussed alternative techniques. Thus, it fell on him to revise old writings and annotations. It hadn’t been necessary for his father to actively ask it of him- chief heir to Fëanor’s renowned skills, crowned in unyielding determination, Curufin concluded in no time that it was expected of him. He took it upon himself ungrudgingly, prioritizing this one task above all else.

A neatly arranged pile of books and leathered notebooks lay now on his nightstand. He briefly glanced at them before wetting his thumb with the tip of his tongue and turning the page. What scarce information he managed to find among the writings he borrowed from the library proved of little relevance to his research, and despite the mounting frustration he found himself stifling a yawn.

Too many hours into the night spent reading, and sketching, and reading again had taken their toll on him. Blinking repeatedly against the sleepiness that tugged at his eyelids, he resolved to make himself more comfortable.

Barely had he turned, allowing his weight to sink comfortably into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut beneath the beckoning weariness, when a shrill shriek pierced through the air. Curufin lifted his eyes from the book at such an ear-piercing sound, yet remained motionless. The sound seemed oddly familiar, youthful and tremendously distressed. It most certainly did not belong to any of his brothers.

Huh.

Another scream tore through the walls, and for one gut-wrenching moment Curufin pieced it together.

It sounded dangerously close to Celebrimbor's room.

Some savage instinct screamed at him to move, and before he knew it, Curufin was up on his feet. Almost violently he wrenched the door open, bolting through the corridor. With an urgency that surprised him, he crossed the long hall with panicked steps, mind racing and heart plummeting in his chest.

What could possibly cause his son to scream like that? Were the servants not around his quarters like he had ordered them? Did he forget to properly close the windows before departing to the library? Could it be that Celebrimbor found something sharp to toy with?

What if he was hurt?

He had left Celebrimbor unsupervised but for one evening. His wife had told him she would be visiting the downtown market with the lady Indis, insisting she should take Celebrimbor alongside her, until Curufin suggested otherwise.

Fear not, I will keep an eye on him, he had assured her, proud conviction that he was an apt and responsible sire urging him on. His father had managed seven of them with exceptional ease, surely he could do just as well with one young elfling.

As the screaming continued with increasing intensity, he finally spotted the door to his son’s room. Worry gnawed at him as each second seemed infinite and deadly in its delay. One lonely servant was just rounding the corner marking the midway of the hallway, several plates, bowls and porcelain mugs carefully balanced in her hands. Curufin knocked over them with his elbow in his hurry, sending them clattering to the floor. The servant yelped in surprise as the royal dinnerware broke into myriads of sharp shards, but Curufin barely acknowledged it. He made his way past it all, grabbing onto the doorknob, swinging the door open.

Panting with effort and panic, Curufin took in the surroundings. The room was as tidy as he had left it, nothing misplaced or otherwise unnatural. The windows were, thankfully, shut. A half-eaten bowl of fruits sat harmlessly upon the tiny desk set in the far corner of the room. His eyes swiftly flicked to the bed.

Celebrimbor made an effort to look up, his head hanging over the edge of the bed, upside down. Above him Celegorm hovered, his hands still clutching at the young elf’s belly and underarm. Curufin watched them in mild confusion.

“Atya, help!” Celebrimbor laughed, choking on his own saliva as he did so. Curufin stared as his son struggled beneath Celegorm’s bulk, trying to pry his hands off. Even so, Curufin could see it was half-hearted.

“What exactly is going on here?” Curufin inquired, his breath a little more steady.

“Ah,” Celegorm said, pulling and twisting his nephew in his arms until he was cradling him. Celebrimbor pushed against his chest, beaming with laughter. “I was teaching my favourite nephew the basics of self-defense-“

“I am your only nephew!” Celebrimbor interjected.

“Aye, smart boy.”

Curufin squinted.

“And what does this… lesson entail?” he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Tickling,” Celegorm grinned, and when his fingers worked playfully over Celebrimbor’s skin, the young elf gave another glass-shattering squeal.

“Tickling,” Curufin echoed, a pounding flash of frustration and disbelief scoring through him. Celegorm did not stop his ministrations, pinning Celebrimbor down onto the mattress, hands above his head. The elfling laughed, and screamed, kicking his short legs viciously into the air. “Tickling?”

Celegorm grinned up at him.

“Yes, hard as it might be for you to believe, children do enjoy other pastimes besides studying and reading and accompanying their pompous fathers down in the forge.”

“Hilarious fellow, aren’t you?” Curufin frowned, voice humourless.

“Stop, stop, stop,” Celebrimbor wheezed, tugging at the bed sheets in an attempt to break free. Sighing, Curufin stooped to retrieve him, plucking him from Celegorm’s arms. Celebrimbor clung to his neck as Curufin swiped the stray, sweaty strands of hair from his face. Then, he took one step forward and struck the back of Celegorm’s head. Hard.

Celebrimbor burst out laughing again, and the look on Celegorm’s face was nothing short of satisfying.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You interrupt my studies, making me run like some lunatic through the halls, making me think something bad might have happened, because you were tickling him? Eru, he was yelling as though you were flaying him alive.”

“I don’t see the problem,” Celegorm shrugged. Rubbing at the spot where he’d been hit, he rose up to his knees. “You are in dire need for a distraction, Curvo. You’ve been smothering yourself in those books for the past week, it is becoming deeply unsettling, truly.”

“I am working,” Curufin rolled his eyes, gently rocking Celebrimbor in his arms. “Do not blame others for your own indolence.”

“My apologies for not wishing to stay shackled to unnecessary duties. I wish for my spirit to remain free while it can.” Celegorm clasped his fist to his chest in military fashion, drawing a chuckle from his nephew.

“Your ‘free spirit’ is not contributing with anything to this household. Besides pestering the hard-working souls, anyway.”

A derisive snort.

“Well then,” Celegorm began, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, “I shall concede to playing the royal buffoon. Your little one here gives me renewed purpose.” He winked at Celebrimbor. “Speaking of, our lessons aren’t quite done for today,” he added, outstretching his arms towards his nephew. Curufin whirled, shielding Celebrimbor from Celegorm’s searching limbs. A subtle squirm betrayed Celebrimbor.

“Do you want to go back to him?” he gently asked his son.

“Of course he does,” Celegorm made answer in his nephew’s stead. “Hand him over.”

Without waiting for his brother’s reply, Celegorm extricated the elfling from Curufin’s hands. With a maneuver well-suited for the sparring rings, he wrestled Celebrimbor back down on the bed and resumed his merciless attacks. Celebrimbor screeched, face flushed and brow sweaty, slapping his chubby hands this way and that, and Curufin couldn’t suppress an affectionate smile. In serene amusement he watched the pair laugh and grapple around. He snickered at Celegorm’s remarks – ‘not fair, that move is strictly prohibited!’ – when Celebrimbor fisted a hand through his uncle’s hair in an attempt to escape his hold.

“Oh hey,” Celegorm said suddenly, his hands still. “Do you know who else happens to be sensitive to tickling?” His attention was suddenly turned to Curufin. Celebrimbor gasped for air, following his uncle’s line of sight.

Curufin stiffened.

“No,” he grumbled.

“Yes,” Celegorm grinned. Celebrimbor seemed delighted.

He tried to reach for the door; hastily he scrambled backwards, stumbling over a short stool, his hands blindly searching for the doorknob behind. His brother’s reflexes proved sharper as he effortlessly jumped out of the bed, closing the distance between them, his hands closing around Curufin’s wrists.

Resistance was futile, in the end. Hard he pulled against the restraint, trying to wriggle his way out of the predicament. With stupefying ease Celegorm managed to drag him on the bed, forcing him down atop the bedcovers. To his left, Celebrimbor cheered his uncle on.

“Take your sleazy hands off me!” Curufin snarled up at his brother. “I will make you pay for it!”

Celegorm straddled his waist, his fingers biting as unbudgeable iron manacles into his skin. His muscles trembled with effort as he put all of his physical strength into attempting to break free of the hold, yet he quickly found himself utterly immobilized, hands flexing uselessly in Celegorm’s grip.

“Oh, I’m sure you will. Since I’m well acquainted with your ruthlessness when it comes to punishments, I might just as well make sure my reprimand is well-earned,” Celegorm smirked. Clasping both of Curufin’s wrists in one hand, he pronounced his brother’s sentence: “Tyelpë, pounce on him.”

Whatever protest welled up in Curufin’s throat died out, swallowed by the unstoppable burst of laughter bubbling up in his chest when the pair laid their hands on him as one.

“Stop!” he gasped, he laughed, cringing in on himself. His brother and son aimed for the most ticklish areas, and despite his initial reticence, genuine amusement and contentment rang in his voice.

Something about the proximity, the closeness, made his chest hum with fondness. Despite the physical struggle, the way his body sought to withdraw, the way he begged for them to stop- warmth spilled like hot magma inside his ribcage. Thus, even as Celegorm gave him a brief moment of respite, relinquishing his wrists, Curufin made no attempt to rise. He simply gazed at them, a tender smile on his face.

Perhaps a distraction was needed indeed. He would have very gladly traded precious hours spent in the forge with his father for merely a few moments of such sweetened, blissful silliness.

Though he did not say it out loud during that evening, nor did he depart.

#this is a very self-indulgent drabble #not my usual style but some of you fluff lovers might enjoy it #curufin #celegorm #celebrimbor #silmarillion #my writing

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suseagull04 · 9 days

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Taking a page from Val's book and scheduling this because I wanted to do sentences Sunday and then never had time...

A bit of Nora introspection from my Divergent AU...

There were five factions, which meant that all things being equal, she had a 20% chance of being in each faction. Nora made a point of knowing herself, though, and she knew that certain factions were much more likely than others to be her result when she was called back with other people with H (and maybe I) last names to take the test. Abnegation, for example. She would do something for a friend when they needed her, of course, but going out of her way for a stranger wasn’t something that was in Nora’s nature. Dauntless didn’t seem like a likely option either, given that she was much more likely to fight someone by using her intellect than with her fists. Besides, Nora tried to be brave, and for the most part she was, but numbers, figuring out the likelihood of something happening, were the main reason she remained calm in any given situation.

So there was a 20% chance of her being in each of the five factions, but given that she couldn’t picture herself in two of them, that meant that there was about 33% chance for her getting each of the remaining factions as her test result. She could handle that.

Thanks for the tags on Sunday, @duchessdepolignaca03, @onthewaytosomewhere, @theprinceandagcd, @iboatedhere, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @itsmaybitheway, and @msmarvelouswinchester- tagging you all back today! Also tagging @anincompletelist @anchoredarchangel @cha-melodius @daisymae-12 @emmalostinwonderland @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable @getmehighonmagic @heysweetheart-writes @happiness-of-the-pursuit @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @piratefalls @read-and-write- @raysletters @smc-27 @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @zwiazdziarka @14carrotghoul @wordsofhoneydew @violetbaudelaire-quagmire and anyone who sees this and wants to play!

#rwrb fic #fanfiction #rwrb #writing #wip wednesday #nora holleran #suseagull04 writes #rwrb fanfiction #red white and royal blue fic #red white and royal blue fanfiction #redwhiteandroyalblue #red white & royal blue

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affectionatelyrs · 4 months

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WIP Wednesday

Thank you so much to @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @sherryvalli @littlemisskittentoes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @anincompletelist @inexplicablymine and @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the tags! :)

This week's snippet is once again from Gonna Give You Something (So You Know What's on My Mind) so enjoy some more white elephant gift exchange shenanigans

“What…in the world is this?” June looks around the room, waving the unwrapped gift in her hand. She lowers the book, reading off the title. “Mad Lib-idos?” Alex chokes on his drink. “Come again?” “That’s what it says.” “Maybe you should open it,” Henry prompts, wanting to see June’s reaction. Because maybe he’s proud of his gift, alright? He worked hard on it. June raises an eyebrow but acquiesces, flipping to a random page. She takes a moment to examine it, brows scrunched in concentration, and Henry is starting to get a bit concerned when June barks out a laugh, then snorts, slapping a hand over her mouth. “What the fuck?” “What is it?” Alex asks, leaning over June’s shoulder and trying to grab the book from her hands when he can’t get a good look. He’s making a motion that he’s coined as “grabby hands,” which Henry knows because Alex does them every time Henry pulls out the good ice cream from the freezer. June swats at him, and Alex ceases his efforts in favor of pouting petulantly. It shouldn’t be as adorable as it is, but Alex’s lips are shiny, one of his curls is bouncing over his furrowed brow, and Henry wants to poke his chin dimple. “I can’t see,” Alex continues. “I’m feeling left out.” June rolls her eyes. “They’re Mad Libs.” “Smutty Mad Libs,” Henry corrects.

I'm late so.... sorry if y'all have done this but I'm going to tag @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @everwitch-magiks @myheartalivewrites and @matherines and anyone else who sees this

#wip wednesday #affectionately writes #rwrb #red white and royal blue movie #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince #first prince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex and henry #rwrb fandom

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nitewrighter · 6 months

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Trick or Treat!

You get...

This splash page from Valerian and Laureline that I was considering as a blog header!!

#trick or treat

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cricketnationrise · 2 days

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wip weds 24.5

thanks to @kiwiana-writes and @onthewaytosomewhere for the early tags this morning, pls have some more big bang words that made @celeritas2997 lose her mind

Nora can’t ignore it anymore—she can’t stay in her room all night, pretending that everything’s fine. Fuck it. She’s got a dance to get to. She finds the ticket she bought in a fit optimism last week and throws on the jumpsuit her Mom took her to buy for graduation. Because the graduation robes for girls are white—thanks, Texas, for leaning whole-ass into the virgin slash wedding vibes, really top notch—it’s a pale blue that will read as white through the robe. It looks fucking amazing on her though, so Nora will allow the blatant misogyny to slide this one time. She grabs her cleanest hi-tops (because fuck heels) to finish off the outfit. She’s just shoving her phone, ticket, and notebook page into the pockets (because fuck clothing without pockets) of the jumpsuit when Mama pauses on the landing outside her room with a raised brow. “Weren’t you stayin—?” “Don’t,” Nora cuts her off, willing herself not to blush. She carefully keeps her eyes on the mirror and not on Mama where Nora just knows she’s laughing at her. “We both know I wasn’t planning on going to the dance, and now I’m very obviously primping and about to get over to the school. Let’s skip the Knowing Mom conversation, just this once.”

tagging: @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @cha-melodius @inexplicablymine @cactusdragon517 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @leaves-of-laurelin @firenati0n @wordsofhoneydew @rmd-writes @iboatedhere @orchidscript @anchoredarchangel @missanniewhimsy @tailsbeth-writes @anincompletelist @three-drink-amy @magicandarchery @itsmaybitheway @14carrotghoul and @sherryvalli

plus the traditional open tag (do it. do it scared. do it bored. do it halfway. do it anxious. do it proud. do it doubtful. but do it.)

#cricket writes #wip wednesday #rwrb #a royally big bang #junora #high school au #you belong with me au

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emilybeemartin · 2 years

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Just got catcalled by a power tools bro revving his dad’s Chevy while I was deep in Aged Millennial thoughts about the early days after The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) released in theaters--- thinking about how my friends and I used to log onto LordoftheRings.net, speakers turned up, to hear the actors welcome us to the website, refreshing and refreshing until we heard Dom, Billy, or Orlando’s voices. How TheOneRing.net had a fan art page with a bad pencil scan of Arwen (BOOK VERSION NOT MOVIE VERSION).jpg as it’s first image, while new fan art was added in its hundreds behind it, and you had to click through each page to see new art, which meant seeing all the same pieces dozens of times and never actually reaching the end. How all the Angelfire fan pages had the same look-- those oversaturated, gaussian-blurred photos with that incredibly small, black-and-white text, and how the only way to find new sites was through the affiliate icons on their links page, and how exciting it was to find those affiliates even though they all had the same photos because nobody could screenshot yet.

Anyway, there’s no point here, I guess, except that my first OC, Laurelin Silverwing, would have thrown her sword at that redneck bastard and then made out with Legolas over his broken scapula.

#lord of the rings

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kiwiana-writes · 4 months

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Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Thanks @getmehighonmagic for the early (for when it usually kicks off, but still well into Sunday afternoon for me) tag!

Not sure if this is good news or bad news (depends on how much you love emotional pain, I guess), but I've started poking at angstapalooza again... 👀

The shade of red that creeps up Henry’s face is equal parts hilarious and concerning; Zahra was on his ass about ‘not embarrassing your mother on a global stage, you little shit’, and while he didn’t think to ask specifically, he’s pretty sure killing a foreign prince by flustering him to death is on the list of Things That Aren’t Allowed. “Mr Claremont-Diaz.” Henry’s handler, or whatever he is, steps forward, one hand outstretched as if to sweep Alex away with the rest of the plebeian trash. “If you would be so kind—” “Just a moment, Shaan.” It’s weird, the way this grown man in a sharply tailored suit that looks as though it cost more than Alex’s dad’s Jeep falls back in an instant at Henry’s word. Henry turns to Alex, his expression carefully guarded as he squares his shoulders in a deliberate, measured way that is utterly at odds with the carefree boy Alex used to look at in the glossy pages of J14. “Mr Claremont-Diaz—” “Jesus, dude.” Alex’s stomach twists at the formal address. “You’re, like, my age. Alex is fine.”

Forever feeling feral for whatever y'all are up to, so tagging @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @blairwaldcrf @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @firenati0n @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @myheartalivewrites @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

#six sentence sunday #kiwiana-writes #angstapalooza rwrb edition #idk i've struggled so hard to focus on this #but really want to get it properly underway lol

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lamemaster · 1 year

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11 Wishes of Love (Celegorm x Reader)

Word count: 1.2k

Warning: death, blood, and slight gore

Genre: angst

Scratched, rewritten, and almost unreadable are some words written in your diary. A hidden object of your possession. Hidden by the world, even Tyelkormo. None know of it except for you. In those worn pages are desires lost to time.

In an unvisited ruin of Middle Earth lay the dreams that you had once dared to dream.

Map stars with him: before the blinding light of Laurelin and Telperion came the stars that were put into the skies by Varda. As you gaze into the ancient sky that had once guided the Quendi on nether shores, you wonder if one day your beloved would find time away from the thrill of the hunt. If one day, he too would join you in naming the stars that wink back at you. He is gone for now but you believe and wish that one fateful day when the skies will lay bare like this Tyelkormo would join you.

Shop in the streets of Tirion: walk through the bustling streets of Tirion. Your hands linked with Tyelko. The noise of the market fades into the background as you find yourself lost in each other’s excitement. You imagine him gazing at you with a soft look as you struggle to try out a bangle that seems to be a tad too tight. Your beloved then sighs with fondness, gently takes your hand and with practiced motions slips the bangle on your wrist. Uncaring of people around you Tyelko seductively leans in to kiss the tip of your ear and you don’t stop him.

Hunt in the woods of Orome: you wish to join him during his hunts one day. To watch his wild expression and write it down in this diary. You yearn to watch the dance of his bow and arrow. To see the Feanorian fire unlike any in Aman. You imagine sitting next to him with the blazing fire of the camp. Maybe Illuvatar would grant you a chance to see him generously free the animals stuck in his traps. A gesture that goes unseen by the world.

Plant a garden: Tyelko loves forests, plants, and the slight fragrance of soil. There is an empty patch of land in your garden and one drowsy afternoon you dream of planting a garden with him. Frail plants that would need utmost care. Your vision forms the scene of you both crouching by a plant. Your hands touch as the soil hugs the sensitive roots of the sapling you both are planting. With a smirk, you watch your beloved smear a line of dirt on your face with his dirty finger. The garden brims with your squeals as you run from the vicious hands of your lover.

Race our horses: while walking on the widespread shores of Alqualonde you can’t help but wish for a day when you race your horses next to the never-ending ocean of Ulmo. Your stallion next to Tyelko’s as you both compete with the slight brine in the air hitting your face. Maybe losing would be sweeter or maybe your beloved would lose for your sake.

Hold him and be held as Laurelin blooms: your room fills with the unrelenting rays of Laurelin. Your cover your eyes, still bleary from the dream that golden rays snatched away from you. You cherish it and hold it close even as your consciousness returns. Your dream held a room. A room mix of your and Tyelko’s. Full of bows, arrows, and rare feathers but also books, inks, and scattered pages. In that room, you found yourself next to your beloved smirking at you. With your back to the window, you observe the gradual blooming light of Laurelin in the stormy eyes that stare back at you. Your hands cup his face and his arms circle around your waist. Pulling you closer until the light of his eyes overwhelms everything.

Show him every word ever written for him: as you tuck your diary in a secluded corner of your bookshelf you wonder of a day when Tyelko finds it. Would he dare to muster the patience to flip through pages that talk of him? Would read with a smug smile or would he for a rare moment lose his composure? Even as you hide your diary you wish for a day when Tyelko finds it. You wish that your words and wishes find him.

Trace the lines of his palm: on a cloudy day with a silent house, you wish to hold his hand. He’s been gone for the past year. Gone with his father and brothers in exile to the solitary land of Formenos. You rush into your room and pull out all his letters. They are rare but exquisite. The only reminder of the love you share. In the darkest times when you miss him, you wish to hold his hand. A luxury of the past. You wish to hold his hand and trace the lines on his palm. To soothe the callouses and blisters with an ointment. Hold his hand and play with his nimble fingers until mischief sneaks into his mind and his fingers end up tickling you to tears.

Speak words that bring a smile to his face: you follow after him and Curufin. The deary lands of Middle Earth hold no joy leave for him. You followed him and only him. Your fingers twitch to grab and pen and write your agony in another greedy wish. Your want that knows no bounds. You ask for one day when your beloved smiles carefree, unbound by the oath of distant oath. You beg for some hours where you get to have your beloved free of all the burdens that make his brow frown. You want his eyes to shine with the fervor of passion unmarred by the madness that now lingers there.

Build a home: jealousy grips your heart as you sit under a tree. All the calm and peace left with the arrival of the ethereal princess of Beleriand. Celegorm, as you know him on Middle Earth, traps her for what he states is for her own good. Yet, when you watch him gaze at her with a lust-ridden look you wonder if it is fair to betray your lover this once. You find yourself fading into the forest a desperate wish rises to your tongue. A wish of old. To own a home with him. A cottage by the edge of the forest or a house near his family in Tirion. Once you wished for it. A marriage, a home…a wish that seems so distant. Slipping through your fingers.

Make him look…just once: your mouth fills with metal-tasting blood. Your breaths come short and uneven. Laying on the cool and hard ground you try to move. You move your head to find him. Amongst the fighting elves, you search for one last time. A heavy body falls on top of you and a foot stomps on your broken leg. An arrow sticks out from the column of your neck. You try but fail to form any words. Not even a single whisper of his name is allowed from your injured throat. In those moments as the summons of Mandos pull at your fea you wish for a last time. You wish for him to look for you. Pray for this mercy…last wish to heal all that the world has ripped from your heart. If not you wish to forget and to let go of the heart that longs for him.

#silmarillion #the silmarillion #tolkien #tolkien elves #noldor elves #valinor #tirion #celegorm x reader #celegorm #sons of feanor #feanorians #silmarillion x reader #one shot #angst #sad ending

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hgejfmw-hgejhsf · 3 months

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WIP Wednesday!

Happy Wednesday, all! I feel like I should have posted this last night, when I was just getting in from work after midnight. Because my muse finally stirred a bit in her slumber yesterday and I managed to convince her to help me write 1900 words of what's going to become my Valentine's Day contribution to the fandom, in which Alex suggests that he and Henry get tattoos. In reading back over it today, I THINK it might not be bad? I don't know, the muse is currently still snuggled under a warm blanket while her typewriter sits on her desk across the room that is the office inside my brain. Gonna see if I can rouse her in the coming days enough to finish this, at least.

Love and hugs and thanks to @kiwiana-writes, @theprinceandagcd, and @suseagull04 for the early tags today!

They carefully slid texted “I love yous” and strings of emojis between the pages of case files and spoke pleas of “come home soon so that I can take you apart with just the tips of my fingers” over the roar of plane engines. Henry sprayed cologne on every new city’s postcard just before sending it on its journey home to where his heart remained, while Alex DoorDashed Henry’s favorite meals to his hotel rooms after extensive research on the best restaurants wherever he found himself, knowing that Henry would be too exhausted to seek out anything but room service on his own.

Tossing tags out into the universe for:

@adreamareads @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @barbiediaz @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @daisymae-12 @duchessdepolignaca03 @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable @getmehighonmagic @guillermosfamiliar @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @indomitable-love @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz @leaves-of-laurelin @leojfitz @lfg1986-2 @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @msmarvelouswinchester @mulderscully @ninzied @priincebutt @read-and-write- @rockyroadkylers @roseharpermaxwell @ships-to-sail @songliili @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @statueinthestonetoo @stereopticons @thinkof-england @tintagel-or-cockleshells @typicalopposite @user-anakin @vanillahigh00 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew

#wip wednesday #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #rwrb fanfiction #my fics #my wips #my writing

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