Golden boy ☀️

I wanna hold him and bask in his light 😩

I can see why Henry would pray to the goddess of dawn…

I hope y’all rwrb rpf writers mention nick’s dump truck ass

It’s FirstPrince (AO3), not rpf, but

Edit: it has now been uploaded to Wattpad and AO3

I have an idea for a new oneshot if anyone wants to read it of course.

It is s*xclub owner Alex and newly hired bartender Henry. And Henry gets constantly flirted with by guests. Some even trying to grope him, which annoys him so Alex offers to put a collar on him, claiming him as his. And flirtingly jokes that he has never claimed someone as his before without having been with them and one thing leads to another…

It is, in fact, Wednesday

good morning fwends and moots and curious minds 💕 my Wip Wednesdays are so inconsistent and I'm sorry but here is a snippet from what is for now called the Tufts fic, I've already talked about it before here.

(in case you wanna, yk. have an idea abt the plot and stuff).

Anyway snippet:

thank you to @england-would-fall both for the tag and the beta-reading and basically holding my life together.

no pressure tags to the lovelies @meraki-yao @taste-thewaste @typicalopposite @z0mbieb0ybyersblog

Happy Wednesday <3 Thank you @england-would-fall for the tag! Here is a snippet of a fic i'll post on Friday this week, written for our little fic trade. (it's sad. ik it's sad. it's hurt/comfort okay).

Stay tuned for the complete fic, out Friday <3 Tagging @z0mbieb0ybyersblog, @typicalopposite if y'all have something to share, and anyone else who wants to share something!

As the beta for this fic, I want to sincerely apologize. This fic is so well-written and genuine and beautiful that I couldn’t concentrate on my job. Any errors left when it posts are my miss, but they’re also @luainthewild’s fault for making me experience emotions.

WIP TAG GAME!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH @typicalopposite for the tag!! i'm elated to be able to share my wips here even if there aren't numerous.

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Here I go :)

RWRB

ATLA

Alr time for the tags!! 3 wips but 4 friends <3

- @z0mbieb0ybyersblog i expect various fandoms from you ;)

- @wordsofhoneydew my bbg

- @england-would-fall my lovely alpha/beta/anything reader that i would be lost without (she says i'm a pain in the ass and she's right)

- @anincompletelist even if you must have so much and already talk a lot about them ;)

Y’all. Fr. @luainthewild is so good. So, so good. You need to tap in. AO3 user subscription—do it.

(AO3 Fic)

This one was based on Good Omens, but in case you’re curious what I mean…

He is the altar where I lay my grief, my despair for all I have not become. I approach him here in the darkness, on a night that, outside these four walls, is as unremarkable as any other. There, stock still in the center of the room, he waits for me, emanating the patience and glory of the full moon reflected on the deepest sea.

As I fall to my knees before him, an overwhelming sense of reverence constricts my throat, and I choke on my gratitude for his very presence until by sheer necessity my breaths return to their usual state. He lifts my chin in his hand, forcing me to meet eyes brimming with compassion, eyes that ask whether I am certain this is what I want, what I need.

‘Please,’ I exhale. It is less a request than a prayer, and though his body is as uncovered as mine, I feel alone in my exposure, as it should be. His eyelids dip gracefully in assent, and he releases himself, frightening feathered appendages rising, spreading, scraping the ceiling of this humble space I have never called a home.

In a moment of daring, of rejection for all that I am called by this world and those above and below, I begin my act of worship. Unworthy hands bracing themselves on solid thighs, a slow, deliberate march of my tongue across silky skin. Snow-white wings beat in time to the angel’s increasingly racing heart; ink black analogs tuck themselves tightly behind my back, shivering in this private breeze, rippling the surface of an ancient ocean of regret.

When the moment arrives, the earth on its axis stands still. The very movement of the planets is halted, and the hidden, coiled power of this celestial warrior is unleashed in a roar unheard by human ears. Goodness pulses out of him in waves, washing over me, into me, making me clean. A tender fingertip traces the paths of the tears escaping my eyes. I am no longer a castaway, adrift in a material eternity. I am his, and it is all I had hoped for: penance, absolution, and love.

(AO3 Link)