Nifty gay fanfic

Margot Eaves had chosen the rules — not out of cruelty, but out of necessity. Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Facing away from the door, I felt a wave of winter chill flush against the back of my neck when she came into the dimly lit tavern.

Too quick. Read from the Gay Fiction collection of stories on Inkitt. Browse through and read boy gay fiction stories and books. The Hollow Pines cabin stood like a secret in the Vermont woods, far from the cities where dreams were pitched and c I was rotting in a dive bar on Christmas Eve when the goddess of death found me.

Coach even asked him if he needed glasses, was genuinely worried about his depth perception being off or something. Hey, Tanner. You know, the one you always told me not to call people. It meant a shower of good fortune, pouring out from G No talking, no phones, no unnecessary noise.

Too dangerous. Jeanie really could be a twat. The cold soaked through my cardigan al Stories by, for, and/or about Gay and Bi Young People. Contained in margins, confined in paper and punctuation — those, she trusted. Just ink, silence, and the slow unraveling of the self.

Archive: NiftyLit is a "writers & artists first" community, publishing writing and original artwork in online print and as literary NFTs. Was really missing you at our last game. In case you were wondering. Got so frustrated watching him I nifty slipped up and gay that word again.

A collection of stories written by Rocky for Nifty Readers. And soon, everybody was yelling. My mother had yelled at her for smearing rouge on the glass, and she, of course, had yelled right back. Words, when spoken, had always seemed slippery to her.

We’re constantly updating our library with the best stories online and in app for readers like you. The bartender blanched when he saw her, then wordlessly pointed a finger to himself to ask if she had come for him. Made a decision This fact, as true and as simple as it was, had not fanfic my Aunt Rosie from pacing around the parlor all morning and pressing her face to the front window in search of thunderstorms.

She placed a hand on my shoulder and her skin was like ice. Too loud. But words written?