Tag: omfg

rycolfan:

My writing process:

  • Write a sentence
  • Delete most of that sentence
  • Rewrite sentence to make it sound better
  • Look up a synonym for a word because I’ve only just used it
  • Wonder exactly what a particular plot point/job/location/object entails/looks like
  • Click away from Word to Google said plot point
  • Click on Tumblr while waiting for page to load
  • Spend half an hour scrolling through cute/amusing posts and videos
  • Remember I’m supposed to be writing
  • Curse
  • Click back to Word to remind myself what I was going to Google
  • Research by going through several pages of articles
  • Click on an unrelated article because it looks interesting
  • Spend half an hour going through other unrelated articles
  • Curse
  • Go back to Word
  • Add absolutely nothing to the plot point/job/location/object but comfort myself with the knowledge that, if someone asks, I know exactly what that fucker is.
  • Write a sentence
  • Delete most of that sentence…

Few Words Wednesday

rabidchild67:

EEEEEEEEEEEEE

—-

“Hey, shh, it’s going to be all right,” Zach said. He held Chris’s head cradled against his shoulder, his hand
lightly resting on the back of Chris’s neck. He traced small circles on Chris’s
back with the fingers of his other hand; it was all oddly soothing. 

Chris brought his hands up, palms on Zach’s chest, and
pushed off. Zach still held on, hands resting lightly on Chris’s arms. “Feel
better?” 

Chris couldn’t take his eyes off Zach’s lips as he spoke. 

“You shouldn’t keep stuff all bottled up inside,” Zach went
on. “That’s what my mom always said, but she never got shoved into a locker by
a basketball player, you know what I’m saying?” He chuckled for a moment, but
something in Chris’s face made him stop. “What? What is it?” 

Chris closed the distance between them in a rush, the kiss
going a bit wide (“Aw, you shanked it, Chrissy!” he could hear Katie’s
voice chiding him in his head), but he quickly recovered. Zach’s lips were warm
like he remembered, and he tasted like toasted marshmallows and beer.

OMFG!  Yes! Yes!  YES!

*bangs hand on table like Meg Ryan faking an orgasm…except mine isn’t fake*

Snippet Saturday

rabidchild67:

Back to working on Captive Pinto:

—-

“What are you doing?” 

“Practicing what you taught me last night,” Chris said, pushing
the bedclothes down and grasping my morning-hardened
member. My flesh leapt at his touch, and he bent his head down, eager mouth
straining to engulf me. 

“Watch the teeth, or I will have you flogged,” I warned, my
cracking voice making the threat unconvincing. 

Merry eyes looked up at me, and he returned to his task,
attempting to put into practice that which I had shown him the night before.
Concentration on the mechanics of it was evident in his every motion, which didn’t
make him very good—not yet. But as it had been some time since anyone had paid
me such attention—Lord Nimoy was more interested in watching me solve puzzles
or read him poetry than in sexual congress with me—I found my body soon quickening to his
touch. 

“There are some men who would be flattered by that,” I said
to Chris as he choked, attempting to swallow the length of me as I had done
with him before. There were tears in his eyes and his face was reddening. “But
please do not…” I paused as he complied, increasing suction on the sensitive
head of my prick, “do not huh-hurt your… oh!” 

I flung an arm up to cover my eyes as I felt my body succumb
too soon, emptying all I had into the warmth of his inviting mouth. 

I lay there a moment, trembling from the effects and the
force of my reaction, when the gagging and coughing of my bed partner forced my attention upon him once more. “You may spit it out,” I offered. “I
will not be insulted. There you are, use the bedding, the servants will be in
soon enough.”