duchessdepolignaca03

[duchessdepolignaca03]

Prompt: Praise and lingerie.

Philip discovers he’s not offended by Henry blatantly stroking Alex’s praise kink — especially when Henry is praising what Alex is wearing beneath his Gucci suit.

WELL HERE YA GO IT'S MORE 3SOME FIC

this can also be found on ao3 if you'd rather

under the cut foe incest-y firstprinceS smut!!! HEED THE TAGS!!!!

Philip didn’t mean to stumble upon them. He knows they need time alone, moments that don’t always require all three of them to be together. He pauses at the doorway, ready to turn around and give them their space, but something keeps him rooted. Henry’s voice filters through the room, low and rich with praise, directed at Alex. It's not unusual for Henry to feed Alex’s praise kink, though it’s not usually Philip’s thing. But this time, the words catch his attention.

Apparently, beneath Alex’s perfectly tailored Gucci suit, he’s wearing something special. Philip’s curiosity is peaked. The thought of Alex in one of those lace or satin pairs he’s come to love tugs at his imagination. It’s an image Philip is all too familiar with—and a weakness of his. There’s something intoxicating about the way delicate fabric clings to Alex’s cock perfectly, the way he always picks the perfect color to contrast against his skin, leaving him looking utterly divine.

Philip tries to step back, giving them their private moment, but the floorboard betrays him with a soft creak.

Alex’s head tilts slightly in his direction, eyes gleaming as he lifts a finger and beckons. “Pip, you may as well join us, and stop running away.”

Philip’s breath hitches, the playful challenge in Alex’s voice wrapping around him. He steps into the room, walking toward the pair lounging against the back of the sofa. Alex’s lips catch his in a kiss, warm and deep, pulling him in with an all-encompassing fervor. Philip melts into it, feeling the heat rise between them.

Behind Alex, Henry is already at work, hands deft as he tugs the jacket and undone shirt from Alex’s body, tossing them carelessly over the sofa. In one smooth motion, he finishes unzipping Alex’s trousers, the sound of the zipper loud in the quiet room. When Philip pulls back from the kiss, his gaze drops, and there it is—lavender lace clinging tightly to Alex’s erection.

Philip’s fingers ghost over the fabric, feeling Alex’s cock twitch beneath the thin material, the wetness of pre-come already pooling against the lace. His breath catches in his throat. He’s always been a sucker for the way lace hugs Alex, the sight of it, the feel of it, and now he’s on his knees, looking up to see Henry nibbling at Alex’s neck, teasing his nipples with practiced hands.

Philip presses his face against Alex’s cock, nuzzling the lace and inhaling the scent of him. Alex groans, a low, needy sound that shoots straight through Philip. With a slow, deliberate movement, Philip pulls the lace down, sliding it under Alex’s balls, freeing his hard length. Without hesitation, Philip takes him into his mouth, setting a rhythm he knows will drive Alex wild, his lips sliding over the head, tongue swirling expertly.

Above him, Henry’s fingers pinch and tug at Alex’s nipples, his mouth leaving trails of kisses along Alex’s neck, and it’s all too much for Alex. Philip feels the familiar tension, the way Alex’s body tightens in anticipation. With a shout, Alex comes, his cock pulsing as he spills into Philip’s mouth. Philip swallows, savoring the taste, relishing the way Alex’s body shudders beneath him.

Alex pulls him up, their mouths meeting again in a fierce kiss, tongues battling for dominance. The taste of Alex still lingers on Philip’s tongue, and he revels in the warmth of the kiss, the connection between them electric.

But then Alex breaks away, turning to capture Henry’s lips in a kiss. Philip watches as their tongues glide against each other, teeth catching on swollen lips, the heat between them palpable. And in that moment, Philip can’t help but think how perfect the two of them are. How this—the three of them—feels like something that fits, something that complete them all in ways he didn’t expect—for now.

[duchessdepolignaca03]

👀 and ✨ for the ask game!

👀 A fic that you love a normal amount

Stars, Stripes and Union Jacks

I’m very normal about this. It hasn’t been updated in a while but I still think about it and hope that the author will come back to it. I don’t think they are on tumblr so I can’t even bother them here

✨ A fic you wish you could read again for the first time

Rule Britannia by @duchessdepolignaca03

Technically I’m still in the process of reading it for the first time, because it’s a wip, but one of my favourite things about this fic is how much it makes me think. There’s so much going on – tension, several mysteries and trying to figure it all out it is absolutely the best

Basically, anon, you got my two most beloved wips. Thank you for asking! 💖

[duchessdepolignaca03]

Coming September 2nd to an AO3 near you: chapter 1 of my 80k-word @aroyallybigbangrwrb submission, Meet Me on the Other Side — featuring runaway Prince Henry and bounty hunter Alex in 1890s South Texas, horses, harlots, and hhhh-angst (look, I tried, okay?), and illustrations created by the wonderfully talented @lieselsart! I can’t wait to introduce you to these fellers — so hold onto your hats, buckaroos.

[duchessdepolignaca03]

happy wednesday! thank you @strandnreyes @cha-melodius @alrightbuckaroo and @whatsintheboxmh for the tags today :)

like I said, it's going to be all World War I AU all the time until I get this beast finished, so bear with me. A little bit of Phillip and Henry doing night watch, in 1916.

Phillip let out a measured breath. “Do you think you’re spoiled?” “A bit.” Henry pursed his lips. “I think I’m babied.” “You are the baby, Haz,” Phillip said, smiling and fond around the edges, but it didn’t take with Henry. “Because they didn’t mean to have me.” “Don’t say that.” “It’s true though.” Henry huffed. “How else can you explain why you and Bea are three years apart, but we have nearly eight between us?” Phillip frowned. “What does this have to—?”

“I’m a child, Pip. I’m soft. I’m spoiled. I’m a bit of a brat.” Henry grit his jaw, half glaring at Phillip. Not really meaning it beyond looking more fearsome than he really was. “If you send me home, it’ll only be worse. Because I don’t have to be loyal to my nightmare unless I’m here.”  “You–.” “I don’t want to stay a child, Pip.” Henry crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall of the bar as though that put a bow on it. Finished it off and left it ended. Phillip sighed. “I wish you could. Just a bit longer.”

“I’m nineteen—.” “And this place is hell on earth. Forgive me for wishing we were never here, that we were home and safe in our beds and mum was fixing tea just downstairs. That Martha and I were writing letters about running away together and not what she should do if I don’t come back, so—.” The words were knocked out of him by Henry colliding with his chest. Hat tumbled off into the hay, cigarette smoldering in his fingers somewhere. Blonde hair dirty, nearly greasy, but familiar tucked up under Phillip’s chin all the same. Phillip set his own smoke aside and pulled him closer, tucked his own face down into the sweat-salt-mud smell, and tried to imagine they were home. That they were younger, naive or innocent or just unknowing. That his brother didn’t shake at night, or smoke, or drink, or get on his knees for someone who didn’t think twice for him. That Phillip wasn’t living moment to moment, breath to breath, and the only thing he feared was the deep disapproval of Martha’s father, which he hadn’t had to work for. “I spoiled you too, you know,” he whispered, eyes shut against the coming dark. “Whenever I let you in my room during a storm or let you ride Samson because you liked her better than Sheba.” He squeezed Henry against him, as if loosening his grip would mean him slipping away. “I let you do whatever you liked because mum asked me to watch you. Because I liked your gap-toothed little grin and your crinkly little laugh.”

alright, so, going to tag everyone that my "first day of school" brain will allow me to. no pressure either!

tagging: @paperstorm @firenati0n @kiwiana-writes @rmd-writes

@sparklepocalypse @lemonlyman-dotcom @liminalmemories21

@heartstringsduet @duchessdepolignaca03 @carlos-in-glasses

@lightningboltreader @bonheur-cafe @three-drink-amy

@anincompletelist @freneticfloetry @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks

+ an open tag if I forgot anyone, which I probably did!

[duchessdepolignaca03]

[RWRB] lakehouse redo!

Inspo + réf :

[duchessdepolignaca03]

i present to you hrh prince henry's boobs, you're welcome

[duchessdepolignaca03]

in other news, writing fanfiction still takes a lot longer than i expect it to.

[duchessdepolignaca03]

Emmy Awards 2024 | Congratulations to Red, White & Royal Blue Outstanding Television Movie Nominee!

[duchessdepolignaca03]

Philip has a terrible sunburn on his back. Unfortunately, only Alex is around to help him rub aftersun/aloe on it.

alright this went in so many directions b4 it ended up here lolz

can also be found on a03

Alex is absolutely done with everyone’s apparent excitement at the Prince of fucking England being at this damn conference. He doesn’t want to be here, but apparently, he is the only one who could. Never mind that he has a major project coming up and would much rather be back in his room at the White House, downing another coffee to keep himself going. Okay, so the project really isn’t due yet, but he would feel better if he was at home working on it and not forced into proximity where he’ll most likely embarrass himself again in front of Henry.

He's been lucky enough to limit his contact with Henry after the Olympics, but every time he’s been unable to, he can’t help putting his foot in his mouth. There is just something about Henry that makes him want to poke at him—and maybe push him into the closest body of water. He’s not done it yet, but he’s wanted to.

He’s done for the day and decided to catch some sun by the pool and maybe a few drinks while he’s at it; he fucking deserves it after two days of reminders to “be on his best behavior” as if he’s some fucking two-year-old. He sometimes wishes his mother would pay half as much attention to him when he’s not on one of these trips as she has on this trip. If it’s not her, she has Zahra, or today, even June, checking in on him as if he can’t remember one simple thing. It’s why his phone is currently set to Do Not Disturb, and his earbuds are playing some rage-y rock music he used to listen to on bad days in high school. It might be the music, or all the calls and texts, or even something else that makes him do it, but when he catches the people around the pool talking about the prince who is across from him and looks over to see the way his back is beyond pink, he can’t help himself. He grabs the aloe that June made him pack “just in case” out of his bag and slings his towel and bag over his shoulder before heading to the other side of the pool. He drops his bag and towel on the open chair next to the prince before dropping the aloe onto the chair next to his head.

“Your back is getting fucking red, dude, you should do something about that.”

The prince, who he assumed was Henry, turns his head toward Alex, and he’s shocked to see he was wrong. So shocked that he misses whatever he says back to him.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Alex says once his brain comes back online.

The Prince—Philip, not Henry—rolls over and sits up, “I said, thanks for the concern, but I’m fine. It’s not a new burn.”

“I’d hate to disagree with a Prince. I don’t know what kind of penalty comes with something like that, but sitting out here in the sun is just gonna make that hurt more.”

Philip chuckles and says, “Yeah, well, I can’t reach, and I sadly forgot to bring my aloe vera application person along, so I guess I’m stuck suffering in silence.”

Alex swears he hears him mutter something like, “As I always do,” but he’s not sure. “I can help you out, dude; it’s not a big deal. Unless, of course, I’m gonna get tackled by your PPO for touching you.”

Philip laughs again, and Alex would almost call it a giggle; it’s kind of adorable if he’s being honest. Who knew a prince could be adorable? Although, if he’s not lying to himself, he also finds the expressions that go across Henry’s face when Alex is frustrating the hell out of him are kind of adorable and might be part of why he keeps doing it.

Philip grabs the container of aloe from where it had landed near where his head had been resting and hands it to Alex. “I’d appreciate it. I’m curious, though. Is there a reason you tossed this at my head?”

Alex motions for him to turn, which Philip does, buying himself time to formulate a response. “I don’t know. I thought you were, Henry.” He notices the way Philip’s shoulders slump at that, but not being able to see his face, he is unsure why.

“I didn’t realize you knew Henry. I mean, of course, most people know who he is, but I assume tossing aloe at what you thought was his head means you actually know him.”

Alex squeezes some aloe onto Philip’s back and chuckles when he nearly screeches at the contact, “Sorry, well, maybe not. My sister would say that’s what you deserve for getting yourself burnt in the first place. As for whether I know Henry, we’ve met and seen each other a few times at things like this.”

“So, you were flirting with him in some weird way. That makes sense, I guess.”

Alex splutters and spreads the aloe down the planes of his back. “More like antagonizing. He’s fun to antagonize.”

“So, you’re a pigtail-puller, got it.”

“Is that some weird British thing? But, sure, yeah, I like to get him going.” Alex notices the freckles across his back and almost misses the tattoo on his shoulder. He traces it with his finger, the stars that form the letter ‘A’ on the inside of his right shoulder blade. He catches himself before he retraces it and stops all thoughts of how it looks there.

“Get him going, huh?”

Something in Philip’s tone makes Alex wonder what he means, but they’re interrupted by someone coming over before he can ask.

“You Highness, you have a half hour before you must be at your next event.”

“Of course, I’ll be right there,” Philip turns back to Alex, and his expression has gotten more stern, as if he’s putting on a mask, and Alex recognizes that cuz he does it himself. He just didn’t realize that the Princes of fucking England also had to do so. “Sorry,  this has been lovely, it’s Alex, right? I really must go. Thanks for the help with the aloe.”

“Sure, that's not a problem.” Alex closes the cap on the bottle and hands it to Philip. “Take this; you need it more than I do.”

Philip takes it from him as he gets up from the lounge and turns to leave. He turns back and says, “Thanks,” before walking away. Alex plops back into the chair as he watches Philp run away. He can’t help but think that princes are fucking weird.

[duchessdepolignaca03]

thanks ever so much for the tags today @sophie1973 @caterpills & @tailsbeth-writes

so do ya ever wake up the morning after ya post a lil smutty thing read it (and after fixing a few silly mistakes that you somehow missed after looking at it a zillion times) think "damn, i don't write that bad of smut"

well that's where we're at today yesterday i was inspired by this art by papiercranes and well I MAY HAVE WROTE & POSTED SOME SMUT

so that's what today's sentences are going to be (and go figure i actually used periods in the bit i chose so it's actually 9 sentences lolz)

tags and smut under the cut - BUT IF UR SEEING THIS AND U WANNA DO THIS - THIS IS AN OPEN TAG 💚

Alex pauses a moment over Henry’s cock, taking a moment to appreciate the way his foreskin has slid down to the bottom of the head. He pulls it back the rest of the way and licks at the spot revealed on the underside. He sucks the head of Henry’s cock into his mouth and savors the salty taste of the pre-come lingering at the tip. He slowly glides his lips down and moans around the feel of Henry’s cock on his tongue. The “Alex’ that warbles out of Henry’s mouth between moans makes Alex swallow around his cock. This brings a litany of curses from Henry’s mouth, and Alex feels his own cock pulse in his sweats. He knows Henry’s close, and it won’t take much to make him come, and he’s not far behind. Henry’s hand, not holding the stick from the consumed Helados, finds its way to Henry's curls, making Alex moan. The way Henry throws his head back in ecstasy tells Alex he’s close, so he puts that lack of gag reflex to work and swallows around his cock as he takes him all the way to the root.

(no pressure) TAG UR IT! (if ya haven't already) @adreamareads @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites @dragonflylady77

@duchessdepolignaca03 @england-would-fall @firenati0n @firstsprinces @forever-fixating

@getmehighonmagic @henryspearl @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inell

@inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jmagnabo92 @kiwiana-writes @littlemisskittentoes

@lizzie-bennetdarcy @mikibwrites @msmarvelouswinchester @myheartalivewrites @nocoastposts

@piratefalls @priincebutt @softboynick @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow

@suseagull04 @taste-thewaste @thedramasummer @theprinceandagcd @thesleepyskipper

@thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex @typicalopposite @everwitch-magiks @cricketnationrise

@cha-melodius @emmalostinwonderland @porcelainmortal @judasofsuburbia @captainjunglegym

@eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead @doublecheekedkinard @stratocumulusperlucidus

[duchessdepolignaca03]

🍑🍑🍑!!

this one will go behind a cut cuz of well smutty incestiness reasons lolz (and i may have more than 9 sentences here but i swore there was 4 peaches here when i looked at it lolz)

oh and also cuz i forgot to add it to the other ones so far

✨MAKE ME WRITE✨

🍑 the thing that is henry-alex-philip - wtf - let's do this thing!!!

Beside him, Henry stirs and rolls closer, arm snaking around Philip and grabbing onto Alex’s leg, pulling him even closer to the bed. Henry’s head pops up out of its place on the mattress, and he rests his chin in the middle of Philip’s back; the hand Henry has on Alex’s leg slides up, and Philip feels the shiver run through Alex as he nibbles his way to his hip. He sucks and nibbles another mark into the hip, and between that and Henry’s hand sliding up the inside of Alex’s thigh, he can see that Alex is already growing hard, and a small wet spot is forming on the front of the panties. His own growing erection is pressing into the mattress, and he can feel Henry’s length growing where it presses into his hip. Philip knows this will most likely be the last time they’re able to take their time; they have to leave in the afternoon for the drive back to London. So, he decides that since it’s also most likely the last chance he’ll have for it, he wants Alex in him; he needs to feel how that perfect cock works in and out of him. Maybe he can also watch the bliss that Alex always seems to feel when Henry is fucking him. He can let Henry take the reins and control how deep and fast Alex will drive into Philip. Almost as if he can hear his thoughts, Alex looks down at him and smiles. “Let me fuck you one more time?” He whispers, but it seems to echo around the room; this is the first time Alex has actually asked to fuck him, and even if Philip hadn’t been planning to do just that, there’s no way he could resist the request. He nods, which seems to set all three of them in motion. Henry pulls Alex back onto the bed, and he tumbles onto the two of them. Philip rolls over onto his back, and when Alex lands on the bed, he feels his lace-covered cock slide across his stomach.

also tagging @duchessdepolignaca03 & @typicalopposite cuz this is relevant to your interests 💚

[duchessdepolignaca03]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[duchessdepolignaca03]

To my readers:

If your comment is long and rambling and full of quotes you enjoyed, I will love it.

If your comment is full of story related questions, I will love it.

If your comment is a single sentence, I will love it.

If your comment is a single emoji, or a string of them, I will love it.

If you comment, I will love it. It's that simple.

[duchessdepolignaca03]

gross

i'm sorry, anon, did you step on a bug or something? - what's going on here

help a girl out with a few more words plz

[duchessdepolignaca03]

Happy remainder-of-Sunday, folks! It's a holiday weekend in America's Hat, and a holiday week in the US, and things are very quiet in fandom land, but I come bearing a small chunk of sentences from my @aroyallybigbangrwrb fic, fresh off the keyboard and into my Google Doc as of about fifteen minutes ago. Thank you to @cha-melodius, @onthewaytosomewhere, and @blueeyedgrlwrites for the tags today! ❤️

“What’s it like growing up in a palace?” Alex asks as they crest a small hill that overlooks a gully that has been scored into the ground as though by a giant’s plowshare. It’s a question he’s been asked on many an occasion, but Henry pauses to contemplate all the same. Alex continues, “The place my parents had when I was growing up was small, but there were four walls and a roof, and I never went to bed hungry. Going to Abuela’s place, though, always felt like magic. It’s a pretty little adobe house with a big garden full of dahlias for her table and cempazúchitl — those are marigolds — that she grows for her ofrenda for el Día de Muertos.” The house springs to life in Henry’s mind’s eye, as though he’s stood in the front garden surrounded by a riotous array of heavily blooming flowers in brilliant shades of orange, red, and rose. “It sounds wonderful,” he murmurs, inhaling slowly as though to savor the ghost of marigold scent that still lingers in his imagination. “You speak very fondly of your abuela.” “She deserves it,” Alex replies. “I spent a lot of summers with her before I went into the bounty-hunting business. She taught me to cook, clean, and mend clothes. Fine qualities for a fine husband, she always said. Not that I’ve managed that.” “Do you... wish to marry?” Henry asks, grimacing at the tentativeness of his own tone. “Dunno,” Alex replies. “Life I lead’s not the sort that’s kind to the folks left at home. This bounty of yours... I bring that in, and it’s the first time I might be able to sit a spell and think things over. Figure out what’s important.”

Since there are like 20 minutes left in Sunday in my timezone, the amount of pressure I'm applying to the tags here is basically a vacuum, but I haven't heard from @kiwiana-writes, @priincebutt, @orchidscript, @firenati0n, @anincompletelist,

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @duchessdepolignaca03, @thesleepyskipper, @read-and-write-, @ninzied,

@nocoastposts, @bigassbowlingballhead, @eusuntgratie, @faketrex, or @writes-in-space today, so y'know. Do your thing if you want. Open tag for the rest of ya!

[duchessdepolignaca03]

Lingerie

Uncropped on twt 🍑

[duchessdepolignaca03]

so a sneak peak at the title card for the 3some fic (minus the title and a few other bits lolz)

first thanks to the lovely @suseagull04 @england-would-fall @typicalopposite @inell & @taste-thewaste for today's tags

thanks becz for helping me determine my choice for today's words was good lolz

open tag for anyone who wants it a few more after the snippet 💚

smutty incestiness in the form of henry/alex/philip beneath the cut

Philip hadn’t planned to fuck Alex over the table in the cottage they are staying in, but he is weak to resist the sleep-rumpled look and the boxers that practically slide off him. If he had to name the thing that pushes him over the edge, it is probably the hints of Alex’s cock peaking out of his boxers that make him spread him out and devour him as if he is breakfast and then fuck him.

He looks up at the sound he hears in the doorway and sees Henry standing there with a sleepy smile. He leans down to whisper to Alex, “Alex, look, he's finally awake. Do you want to show him what a good boy you are?”

Philip barely gets the words out, and Alex is coming between them, his arse getting tighter around him as he pushes in, bringing him over the edge, and he empties into Alex. Philip is panting, focusing on holding himself up, his cock softening, still inside Alex, so he can be forgiven for not even realizing Henry moves until he’s right next to them. Henry runs his finger through Alex’s come pooled on his stomach, brings the finger to his lips, and sucks it clean. Henry’s moan as he sucks Alex’s come from his finger is echoed by Alex as he watches.

Philip catches Henry’s finger when he goes back for more, this time sucking the finger clean himself, getting a taste of Alex he hasn’t had in a while. He sees Alex watching them, eyes blown wide with lust, and pulls Henry’s finger from his mouth with a pop. He leads Henry’s hand back to the come still on Alex’s stomach and brings the two he drags through it back to his mouth. He licks the fingers, first putting on a show, then sucking them into his mouth and bringing them back out clean. He feels his soft cock slip from Alex and isn’t sure if the whiny moan is from the loss of something filling him or the show he put on devouring Alex’s come.

so tag ur it to @adreamareads @blueeyedgrlwrites @caterpills @dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03

@firstsprinces @forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@jmagnabo92 @judasofsuburbia @mikibwrites @piratefalls @priincebutt

@softboynick @sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @tailsbeth-writes

@theprinceandagcd @thesleepyskipper @thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex @doublecheekedkinard

@captainjunglegym @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @oxfordslutphase