#sorry all my wips are ponniyin selvan nonsense. me and nandini are like the dr sapperstein and mona lisa meme. u know the one

[philtstone]

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🌷 favorite sweet quote from a published work sending me this was mean because i have a silly number of published works and like. do i ever write things that are not sweet? no! mean of you. but anyway this is one of the more recent ones and while this excerpt is not necessarily unique the chapter as a whole is one of my favourite pieces ive written.

“And can you kiss me a little bit?” Sarah says.

His expression doesn’t change. “Just a little bit?” It’s just humorous enough that she knows he doesn’t buy it.

She really needs to kiss him. Otherwise she will be overwhelmed by the things in her chest, the vulnerability, the fear of change, the deep and profound affection – the knowledge that she is so earnestly sincerely simply loved again, by this good-hearted, complicated man. One of his arms is wrapped around her back, but the other one smooths forward to cup her chin so she can look at him properly. It is relieving, the hardness of the metal and the tenderness of his touch all in one.

“I’ll kiss you a lot if you tell me what’s going on.”

God, she is going to start crying again. That won’t do at all. Remember how annoying he can be, Sarah tells herself, which only serves to get her laughing in little hysteric huffs, so she rubs her fingers over her face and tries to come up with an articulate sentence.

🍌 favorite funny quote from a wip from my attempt to write a scene from @foolgobi65's incredible and chaotic ponniyin selvan arranged marriage fix it au lol

The little imp. Of course she was sincere. Nandini is always her most convincing when she is being honest. For example, in honesty, she feels a low stirring of disgust that grows with every passing day whenever she must think of or speak to the Pandiyan king. In honesty, she feels fond kinship for the youngest prince, and his gentle quiet clever way, and his continuous offers of friendship – even his disguise is growing on her. In honesty, she still does not much like Kundavai, but she is a poison Nandini is at present willing to bear.

In honesty, she is in love with her husband.

She cannot tell him this, because he will not stay long enough in a room shared with her for the damned words to be uttered from her lips.

It is abysmally frustrating. It is bordering on embarrassing. Nandini would feel the urge to throttle him daily if she were not so pathetically twitterpated.

🔥 wild card: dealer’s choice of quote from a wip a snippet from the next silly installment in my silly modern road trip au! part 1 here and part 2 here

How strange it is! To see your own face so clearly in another. The slope of her nose — the curve of her mouth — the way her hair falls. Nandini wonders if this is what she will look like when she is old. She wonders if she is what her mother looked like when she was young. Surely the answer is yes. They are now inseparable in her mind, she and her mother, and it is overwhelming. She does not even need a father anymore; he has been axed from the equation. She has a mother. She knows her mother! 

But does she?