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don't slow down.

@caterpills / caterpills.tumblr.com

stephanie!! (she/her) 30s. an absolute bisexual disaster. full of an unhealthy obsession with the raven cycle, rwrb, and bookish things. ao3: caterpills — twitter: @caterpillssss
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caterpills

This Is More of a Comment Than a Question

Summary:

Three weeks before Henry Fox's tour for his fourth, highly anticipated, awards-bait novel A Brief War in December begins, his publicist Janella breaks her foot on a bunny slope at Windham. Alex can't be mad at her, even though he kind of is. Saying it out loud would be like kicking her when she was down, and she already went down a literal mountain in the worst way possible. Now crammed in Rafael Luna's corner office, Janella is shooting Alex extremely apologetic looks while slumped on her crutches, wearing a bright orange cast. The conversation about who is going to be joining Henry Fox on his multi-city trek across the U.S. is also going downhill. Alex is feeling the same sort of free fall while standing still. Because out of all the publicists available in their tiny underfunded department, the only one left to escort their company's best-selling author is regrettably him. The problem is, well, Alex absolutely hates Henry Fox.

Or: Alex is the publicist for Mountchristen Publishers, and is stuck on a two-week tour with their best-selling, but frustrating, author Henry Fox.

If you like playlists for your fics, I've got one for you. And so many thanks to @jamieylnn for making me this header ilu 🥹

HOLY SHIT.

CHAPTER 10 (The Epilogue!) is up - This fic is now complete and safe to binge!!

An even more exciting - @miharaikko made these LOVELY covers for Henry's book!! AHHH I scream!!

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allwaswell16

I just want to talk about the power of commenting on fics for a minute.

I have my main fandom, but when I read in other fandoms, I don't know many of the writers. So I usually just find fics by looking through the tag I want. And if it's a tag I'm really interested in, I'll read every fic in the tag. And if there's a fic I really liked in there, I'll start reading everything by that writer.

So what this means is I'm sometimes reading fics or writers that don't have tons of hits/kudos/comments on their fics, but I found them through some obscure tag I wanted to read. And so I'll get back some really incredibly sweet replies to my comments.

But then, something even more incredible started happening. I'd be reading WIPs by some of these writers and they'd literally start writing the rest of the fic for me. They started asking me what I hoped to see happen or if I had any requests. And when the fic was finished, one of them said the only reason they kept writing the fic was for me.

Sometimes there can be such a lovely connection between the writer and the reader just because you decided to leave a comment. And sometimes you as the commenting reader can become the lone reason why a fic makes its way into the world for all the other readers who come after you.

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please could you be tender? || firstprince ballet au

rating: explicit || pairing: alex claremont-diaz/henry fox-mountchristen-windsor || word count: 10533 || read here

summary:

“Listen, I was hoping maybe I could get your business card. Do you think your kids would be interested in sitting in on a rehearsal or maybe a private dance class?”

“Oh,” Henry says. “That’s incredibly kind of you. They would love that. We should have grants for things like this‒”

“Your money's no good here. I mean, pay your bus drivers but I won’t accept a cent from you,” Alex smiles.

“It’s more paying your company,” Henry teases. “Will your bosses be okay with that?”

“I can be very persuasive,” Alex whispers and it leaves goosebumps over Henry’s skin.

Trying to regain his footing, Henry says, “Uh, my email and office number are on there. You can contact either one and we can set something up.”

“And what if I wanted to set up something after office hours?” Alex asks with a glint in his eyes.

or: ballet dancer! alex has taken an interest in henry after a shelter field trip to Ballet Austin and henry wants to believe it's not too good to be true.

thank you to bestie @seths-rogens for being the best beta in the game!!

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Sunday Sentences, November 10, 2024

Well, it's that time of the week(end) again. I was tagged by the always wonderful @kiwiana-writes @thighzp @sophie1973 @run-for-chamo-miles @porcelainmortal and

@faketrex. (the fact tumblr can't get it's tagging shit together is baffling to me)

This will most likely be the last preview of (the only truth) everything comes back to you. We only have chapters 8, 9, and the epilogue left my friends.

I hope you enjoy!

“The Pavlovian response you have to a fresh cup of coffee is…” Henry sets the mug down on Alex’s nightstand. Alex pushes himself up onto his elbows. “No Pavlov. Too early,” he mutters and sits up fully, the covers falling away from his chest. Henry slides back into bed and lowers his head to leave a light kiss on Alex’s bare shoulder as he gets comfortable.

@judasofsuburbia @seths-rogens @bitbybitwrites @caterpills and an open tag if you have words to share (please tag me!)

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sentence sunday 11.10.24

it's been ages since i've worked in this doc, and i can't wait to keep working on it! today i bring you some from my henry jerkin' it 5 +1 <3

It’s not the time or the place and Alex is clearly not in the mood, but oh fuck, Henry really is. His freedom tastes like stale beer on the breath of his beloved and it feels like his dick getting hard in the middle of a pub and he’s ready to indulge.  He kisses Alex again, briefly, and then excuses himself to the bathroom.  The door to the stall is barely closed behind him when he’s furiously unbuttoning his pants, reaching in, jerking off into his own hand. His other hand is pressed against the cold metal of the stall door, keeping him upright as his knees go weak. He drunkenly strokes his cock, almost lazily, and somewhere in the back of his booze-fueled mind, he is put off by how quickly it takes him to come.  When he’s done, he makes quick work of cleaning himself up and returns to the table, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright. Alex gives him a sly look.  “Enjoy your bathroom break, darling?” Alex asks, and Henry nearly chokes on his beer.

and anyone else who wants to!

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faketrex

Some Sentences Sunday

This story was supposed to be done by now, and also substantially shorter. Anyway. No-context sentences! Here we go.

Thanks to all y'all who have tagged me over the past few weeks... months... seasons. That includes @caterpills, @cha-melodius, @porcelainmortal, @sparklepocalypse, @blueeyedgrlwrites, and probably other people I've missed in this list. Sorry! Thank you! Open tag for anyone who wants it!

...

They've been married for three weeks when Alex suggests a late-night jaunt into the city.
"Where do you have in mind?" Henry asks, not turning from where he's stoking the fire.
"I own a bar," Alex says, as if this were a normal piece of information to communicate to one's spouse past ten p.m. on a Wednesday, nearly a month since the wedding, well after their fiscal assets had supposedly been joined in the name of the law. "It's more of a lounge, really, or a club. Dark wood paneling, leather chairs, more accent lamps than you can shake a stick at. Hoity-toity, you know? But in a comfortable way."
"That sounds lovely. I'll go get dressed." He hangs the heavy metal poker on the hook next to the mantel.
Henry, by this point, has already tried to kill Alex four times.
None of them have stuck.
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Several Sentence Sunday

I started writing something new. I'm not sure what this will be, if anything, but I haven't written new words in a while, so I'm excited about it regardless.

Setting this up so that I don't have to share too much of it, Alex and Henry are sometimes sharing a bed even though OMG they're roommates!!

... it doesn’t matter. They’re not a couple and there's no sense pretending otherwise. Alex was straight… ish, he liked to joke, and Henry refused to read too much into it. It did sometimes make things… difficult, however. Henry’s a young man with certain physical needs and while he’s more than capable of taking care of those needs himself, it’s much harder when the object of your affection is sleeping in your bed. It’s not every night — that would be ridiculous — but it’s definitely becoming alarmingly frequent. Henry uses his nightly showers as an opportunity to get off before crawling into a bed that he might be sharing with the clingy, gorgeous man who should be sleeping across the hall. Despite the frequency with which Henry is wanking, he’s not always able to keep up with what his body wants, especially when he wakes up with Alex, warm and sleepy and draped over him like a sexy weighted blanket.
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some sentence sunday 24.8

Now that I'm done writing works that have to remain anonymous, have a some lovely firstprince kissing from a fic I finished a draft of this morning:

Their kiss doesn’t make Henry see fireworks so much as he feels like one. He’s a lit fuse, sparking in the darkness—he’s the powder igniting as it’s launched into the air—he’s a burst of flame shining brightly against the night sky. He’s ablaze in a riot of color and sound and he’s never going to burn out. Every movement of Alex’s lips against his own, every brush of their tongues, every shared breath and huff of laughter stokes the fire in Henry higher and hotter.

this is your open tag + thanks for the tags over the last couple weeks from: @kiwiana-writes @onthewaytosomewhere @cha-melodius @celeritas2997 @iboatedhere

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