S’up: ksclaw asked: Pitch and Pitchiner having an argument over something ridiculous to the point where they both start…
Most of the time, Pitchiner only sees when an argument is about to turn into a fight when it’s too late to stop the change - he watches Pitch’s shoulders tensing, watches the tightening of his face, and Pitch closes off to him enough that he stops paying any attention to how vicious his words can…
How…do you even write so fast and SO GOOD? I’m….wh..at…how…/at a loss/
EMERALD WTF HOW DO YOU WRITE SO WELL IN SUCH A SHORT TIME WHAT IS YOUR SECRET I NEED T O KNOW
Iloveyou. And I will say one little thing on how I write quickly; I’m a stream of consciousness writer. It makes writing longfic a complete arse of a job, but it works great for most anything up to 2000 words if inspiration strikes <3. Also! Practice. Seriously, I’ve been ficcing for a long long time and I’ve still got PLENTY of room for improvement. I went through the Mary Sue phase when I was 9, started scribbling terribad porn when I was 11, started posting it when I was 13, learned the value of plot at 15, learned the value of dialogue at 17, and I’m 28 now and still learning things step by step <3.
Also, I don’t have a visual mind, so I think maybe I have a strange advantage in that I don’t picture things as I write them, I write them as I… well, as I think them, I guess? I don’t have that horrendous struggle of trying to get an image out of my head onto paper because I don’t think in images (and you can spot it if you look for it - I have terrible Blank White Room syndrome where half of my stories could be set ANYWHERE because I don’t have a talent for describing settings).
This is why I now have a donation button on my blog.
In case you missed the earlier post, this is what it said:
Ok so, now that I FINALLY figured out the donate button, which took forever because I’m an idiot and know nothing… I’m going to ask for help. We have bills upcoming that we can’t pay. My mother is disabled and I am unemployed, largely due to an unreliable piece of shit car that’s nearly as old as I am and not nearly in as good condition. The house remains in danger of being foreclosed on.
I try constantly to sell commissions and completed artwork, as well as sewing projects, and spend more time than I should writing advertisements and haunting forums and trying to think up new and interesting things to sell and ways to do it. I am very, very tired, both mentally and physically, from doing this. I hate to ask for assistance, but the fact remains that we can’t do everything alone and everybody needs a little help sometimes, especially when everything I do isn’t working.
The donate button is there beneath my description if you want to help. If you want to order a commission or buy some of my artwork, contact me about that via ask.
As a quick note of encouragement - if any of my followers donate to the above, you’re welcome to put a request in my askbox for a three sentence fic. I normally do those for free anyway, so why not do them for a good cause?
Despite the general nature of their relationship, or perhaps even because of it, Pitch and Pitchiner had come up with an alternative to birthday blowjobs that offered a lot more creative scope, and forced civility upon whoever was in the position of giving rather than receiving; for each birthday that came, they would draw up a short list of kinks they wanted to try, and the other was banned from instantly refusing or laughing at them.
Saying no was allowed, of course, just not within five seconds of reading the list - a full minute had to pass between finishing the list and giving an answer, as that minute of thought was sometimes enough to turn a “maybe” from a “no” into a “yes”.
It was a rule that Pitch had been unsure of when Pitchiner set it up, but when his own birthday came and he drew up his list, and Pitchiner read it over before circling everything he was happy to try, he realised it had merits; fifteen minutes later when his legs were draped over Pitchiner’s broad shoulders as a deft and long tongue pushed into him, teasing and stroking him in a way that felt far, far more different to fingers than he would ever have expected, he knew he’d spend the future clinging to that rule for dear life.
WHYYY WOULD YOu
godDAMN YOU CHICA
It was worth it for your face my lovely <3. *smooch*
They’re walking back to Piki’s place after dinner and a movie, hand in hand, when the combination of a full stomach, a little too much wine, and a little too much coffee gives Piki the confidence to ask outright, “Jack, if this was a date - would you mind?”
He knows better than to takes Jack’s initial silence for a rebuttal, but he stops walking while he waits for an answer, brushing his thumb over Jack’s wrist and hoping his sunglasses hide his eyes effectively enough because he can’t help staring for a sign of whether Jack’s blushing is embarrassment for a no or embarrassment for a yes.
Jack doesn’t quite answer at first, but he does grant Piki a quick kiss on the cheek before squeezing Piki’s hand tighter, his blushing intensifying before he finally, finally says, “If you’re sure, I-I’d like that.”