Self-Rec Tag Game
Rules: share five of your own fanworks (fic, art, etc.) Then, tag five more people to share the things they've made.
@ghostwise tagged me for this!! thank you, beloved!! it's so fun and i believe in self-hype so here we go. this is bound to get long, sorry.
i'll tag @syrcus @scionshtola @gefiltefished @rickety-goose @myreia @lilas @thevikingwoman (this is seven people BUT many of us have been struggling with The Block lately so i'd love to see you guys celebrate yourselves if you want to 💗)
✨ Something you absolutely adore ✨
in this state (FFXIV): a moment immediately following Ultima Thule's climax, in which estinien and alisaie sit with an unconscious io. i really loved having them ignore and then play off each other for this!
“You care for her, don’t you?” Alisaie asks.
Estinien scowls at the very specific emphasis in the question. He cares about a great many people, Alisaie not least among them. He cares for their causes and their well-being. But that is not what she is asking.
It hasn’t needed a name before now, this feeling. Most often, it is in his chest, unfurling softly each time Io smiles, or rests her head against his shoulder, or speaks kindness to a stranger, until he can feel nothing but her warmth. Other times it shoots up his spine, a radiant pride that strengthens his arm and steadies his aim. It is the knowledge he would follow her anywhere because there is no one he trusts more.
And now it lodges between his ribs, sharp and stinging.
He answers after a long moment.
“Aye.”
✨ Something that was challenging to create ✨
vacation, had to get away (TWC): i attempted to write a spooky story because TWC is not nearly as unsettling a universe as it could be. lots of fun but ough, i was so far out of my romance wheelhouse.
Between the clutter and sightseeing, even under the blazing coastal sun, there’s always something dark shifting just at the edge of Rebecca’s vision. Faint shadows twisting out of view at the last second. The wound-wet itch of unease prickling her skin.
Someone is watching—of that, she’s certain.
✨ Something that makes you laugh (or smile, if that fits more comfortably) ✨
oblivious (FFXIV): aymeric and estinien catching up and being besties. aymeric living for his friend having a crush. plus the groupchat decided this was the one (1) time aymeric is allowed to say "fuck."
“Mm, perhaps ‘friend’ is erroneous in both cases. Nevertheless, I am pleased you have someone like her,” Aymeric pauses, “for support, of course, as you adjust to– what was it again?– 'all these fucking academics.’ Though, I am confident they are thrilled to have you on their side.”
Estinien leans back on his heels, chuckling at Aymeric’s weak-voiced swear. “Aye, they’re a hospitable group.” He glances up the stairs. Io and General Aldynn are inside now, and though his face does not betray him, there is a gravity to his pining. It pulls at him. He takes a step forward, clapping Aymeric on the shoulder. “I should go inside. It was good to see you, my friend. Give my regards to our brothers in arms, will you?”
✨ Something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.) ✨
praying that it waits for me (TWC): a fic about bumbling side character Douglas, which has had an amount of praise that still astounds and moves me, even two years later. i've read and reread every comment, tag, and little story folks have put on about accepting themselves and their queerness. i cannot tell you how much this piece means to me, and i am so humbled it resonated with so many friends and readers.
He starts gathering the threads. How this started, when he knew, why he hasn’t told his parents.
Why he hasn’t told anyone.
Where he plans to go from here.
He knows the answers, but struggles to weave them into anything solid in his mind. He still has questions of his own, after all.
His sexuality isn’t something he can put into bullet points, no matter how much easier that’d make this conversation. So he sits, swaying on the edge of his truth, still afraid of becoming.
✨ Something you want other people to see ✨
what i see in you, i hope you find in me (FFXIV): my favorite work for io and estinien so far tbh. io's shaky headspace during this portion of EnW was fun to navigate, and i am always pleased to write alisaie. balancing zenos and estinien as romantic foils during this part of her life is also 🥴
“He’s angry with me. I suppose that is his right. I shouldn’t have let them take you two.” Io grits her teeth, fighting against the knot of guilt that has resided in her stomach since the morning.
Estinien is her friend, perhaps the closest she has here besides Alisaie. She understands him, so she can hardly blame him for being upset with her. They are family to him, Alphinaud, and Alisaie by extension. No less than they are to her. He has given Io little more than one-word responses since the twins were found. She may pretend otherwise, but his cold shoulder wounds her.
“Oh, to hells with Estinien.” Alisaie waves a gloved hand dismissively in his direction. “He’ll get over it. Would he have you fire upon civilians while negotiating peace? He may love my brother like a… well, brother, but he must admit there was no ideal series of events to be had. We all did our best, and we all made it through.”
(spicy edition under the cut because i am 50% a smut writer after all)
✨ Something you absolutely adore ✨
flood (FFXIV): i actually really love this fic, it's spicy then it gets SO mushy. describing the position in a way that sounds hot and achievable was tough, ngl, but this is so so indicative of their intimate dynamic in general.
Already, the first threads of her climax quiver in her belly, pulled taut like a bow, like the curl of her back, as she anticipates the release to come. One move from Estinien, and she will shatter.
He opens his eyes, hungrily surveying the twist of her body, enthralled by the lace framing her breasts. Io is so close, and can’t help herself. “You are adorable.”
Estinien leans forward, arcing his body over hers. The ends of his unbound hair skim her shoulders and chest, featherlight touches in stark contrast to the stinging tug on her scalp. His lips brush Io’s in an intimation of a kiss, warm breath washing over her face and neck as he teases her with gentleness.
“And you are already throbbing. When you come, I want to hear it, yes?”
✨ Something that was challenging to create ✨
too precious (blooming panic): uh. i wrote this out of spite because i hated the dom!toasty happenings LMAO. figuring out their sexual dynamic was a fun challenge. lots of blushing.
“I love how patient you’ve been, letting me take you in like this.” A real kiss, finally, and he sighs into her mouth. It kills him, not being able to rest his hands on her body, or run them through her hair. They twitch helplessly in the ties at either side of the bed, and Teddy kisses him harder to compensate.
✨ Something that makes you laugh (or smile, if that fits more comfortably) ✨
in the light i thought i saw you (wayfarer): just filling in the blanks of ephyra's time with veyer at the gala. they are both SUCH little shits in this, it makes me laugh.
She touches their clit. The hitch of their breath is felt more than heard, and it’s Ephyra’s turn to laugh. “Oh?”
Veyer’s head falls forward, cradled between her shoulder and neck, and Ephyra’s head spins again. Veyer is… strikingly vulnerable, more than she expected for a Guild Mage. They’re so open, too close. It’s almost uncomfortable.
Almost.
They grind against her palm, their own touch becoming erratic for a moment, before gently, firmly pulling her hand away. Did she do something wrong?
They tsk a couple times, and a fresh grin pulls at their lips. “Not yet, Ephyra. I need both our focuses here-” They curl their fingers inside her to emphasize the point. “Be patient, dear.”
✨ Something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.) ✨
alma.mp4 (TWC): i love writing self-love smut but i'm always shocked when other people are into the way i write it LMAO.
“How do I taste, Mason?”
She lifts her fingers, dripping and slick, to his mouth. The smirk parts and he takes them in with no hesitation. His tongue slides over them, between them, and Mason’s never been good at savoring.
He devours.
Eyes half-lidded like he might be a little drunk on her taste, he presses a wet kiss to her palm. His lips come away shining. “Better than blood, sweetheart.”
✨ Something you want other people to see ✨
something to talk about (FFXIV): idk i just think io should be allowed to be bossy sometimes and i think estinien would like it.
He removes his shirt while she unties his pants, pushing them past his hips. Candlelight dances across his skin and in his mussed hair. Io bites back the urge to tell him how beautiful he looks, cast in orange-gold light, already panting, barely holding onto the leash of his restraint. She strokes him with a deft hand, as familiar with his tells as he is with hers. The hitching breath, the white knuckle grip. This was his game, was it not?
Io slides the tip of his cock into her cunt, then cups his chin. She murmurs against his lips, “come on, then.”
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“Come on.”
“Uh?”
Diane looks up as Naomi stands and holds out her hand as if this isn't a ridiculously careless thing she's asking her to do, as if neither of them has the good sense to mention that neither one of them has any idea what they're getting themselves into. As if neither of them might be walking straight into a trap of their own making, or nothing much will change at all and they'll forget about each other in a month, or a few days. As if it's a risk worth taking to find out which.
As if there's anything else to do today.
“I'm not going to the hospital.”
“I know.” Naomi reaches a little closer. “I have a first aid kit at home.”
Enough to get them through, that's all. Enough for now.
“You know how to wrap it?” Diane asks as she takes Naomi's hand to pull herself up, as though the answer might change her mind somehow. Naomi smiles a little, as though she knows it just as well that it won't.
“Yeah.” She sets Diane's hand down on her shoulder. “It's not far, come on. I'll carry you down the stairs.”
“You'll drop me.”
“I will not.” Naomi urges her forward, along the concrete path out of the park. “I mean I'm just offering, I don't have to.”
It's a nice gesture, though, isn't it? It was a nice thought.
They walk slowly down the street, stepping more or less in sync past the general store with the baking supplies just past the doorway, turning at the corner to walk toward the coin laundry that's open even at three in the morning and also on holidays. A hand-drawn poster in the window of the discount shoe store across the street loudly advertises VACUUMS REFURBISHED while a Times New Roman printout on the telephone cubicle in the middle of the block offers “suitable compensation” in exchange for willing test subjects, No Questions Please; a few steps farther along stands an apartment building that somehow looks like it's missing a couple of stories, and Diane shifts her weight to her good leg as Naomi steps away to fumble with the lock on the front door.
“It's the door on the left,” Naomi says, the door sticking only slightly as she shoves it open. “When you get to the basement.”
She opens the first door on the right, a stairwell that only leads down.
“Upstairs is that door over there, but I don't know any of the neighbors, so. I'm not gonna introduce you to anyone.”
That's fine. Diane doesn't want to know any of them, either.
Naomi walks down the stairs first and doesn't try to carry her.
“Bathroom's at the end of the hall,” she says. “The taps aren't broken, the water's just cold when it's cold outside and warm when it isn't, but if you let it run for a little while, it'll...fix itself. And make sure you don't touch the water heater, it's metal and it gets really hot sometimes.”
Diane clutches the wooden banister nailed to the wall as she limps her way down and wonders how much of all this she's supposed to remember. All of it, probably. It isn't very complicated.
Naomi unlocks the door on the left and holds it open.
“You can sit on the bed.”
It's good of her to offer. It isn't much of a bed, really, more of a mattress pushed into the corner, but that isn't exactly a surprise, and it's good of her to offer all the same.
“Thanks,” Diane says, a little too late to seem quite natural. Naomi hums a disinterested acknowledgment and doesn't seem to mind.
“Take off your shoes.”
Diane promptly unties her sneakers, placing them on the floor beside the bed as Naomi kneels in front of her with a roll of ACE bandage in her hand and her eyes focused on Diane's ankle like she's the only attending physician in the entire complex who doesn't have better things to do with her time than tend to something as trivial as all this. Diane should count herself lucky the timing worked out the way that it did.
Lucky, was it? It's about time.
The single bulb in the overhead light flickers a little as if a public execution has just disrupted the power grid, or someone's turned on too many air conditioners at once and blown a fuse a few floors up.
“Don't worry about it,” Naomi says. Diane doesn't bother to assure her that she wasn't.
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