#「mercurys wips」

[a-ikuoliver]

okay i am literally for sure going to get out of my writing slump u cannot stop me fear me

behold: the wip list + anonymous google form poll

okay this is some of my wips i cannot fit all of them but they are all on the google form one bc that one doesn't limit me LMAO

the wip list has summaries + w/c /progress of the wip

[a-ikuoliver]

hiiiii lin i'm jumping on this bc i liked the snippet idea as opposed to the title idea!!!! pls bear with me i have so many wips sobs

"what about the wedding!" continuing your faux-sobbing, you collapse to the floor again, even chancing a hiccup as the woman stumbled away from oliver, "our honeymoon?" another hiccup, another sob.

"but, you can," he's nearly drooling, saliva pooling in his mouth, gathering at the tips of his canines, popping the button on your pants as he coos down at you, "you can show me, right?"

the moment he'd held your hand tenderly, kissed the top of your head, muttering against your crown, "it's not you baby…"

“would you rather we play house?” his eyes glint, hips bearing down onto yours as you press your lips to his jaw, biting down on his hot skin, “want me to tell you i love you when i cum?”

taking a picture of the empty field, you settle quickly into your seat close to the edge of the pitch, adjusting the colours of the picture on your phone as fans filter in, a few of them glancing over to you, you see the curiosity in their eyes, an unspoken question if you were the same girl from the articles, from the pictures.

you didn't have the Sight, not one of the few blessed with the ability. despite that, you'd stake you life on your coworker being a demon. a man as striking as he was frustrating, muscles nearly as big as his ego and sparkling eyes that had you questioning if maybe eternal damnation would be worth one night with him. a mouth like his could only belong on a succubus; sweet talking you into going out for drinks after work, or out of trouble.

your head falls back against the mirror when he spits into his hand, your spine arching when he presses a slick finger to your clit gently, a breathy chuckle on his lips, his hips jolting in your hand at the sound of your whine.

"you and reo?" it nearly pains oliver to play dumb, to keep his hand close to his chest, and he's never been so thankful for reo's exorbitant wealth.

he was polite, always greeting you with a smile that made his eyes scrunch, crows feet far deeper than they had been when he was your age. you always did the same in return, smiling up at him with gum between your teeth. it tastes like strawberry when his tongue drags over it.

“you think he’d fuck you better than me?” his mouth hovers over yours, a defiant look still in your eye when you stay silent, his fingers grazing over your clit, “make you feel like i do?”

your girlfriend is rabid. there's no other explanation for the way she gnaws at your throat; sucking and biting at your skin until bruises bloom beneath her teeth, a self-satisfied moan vibrating against your throat when you wince away from another sharp nip of her teeth.

"don't you dare, yo." "sorry? couldn't hear you." "stop it. you stop that right now." "oh? what's that? is that? can it really be?" "no, no, no, don't!" a last ditch effort, you nearly dive off of the plastic motorcycle; you had no chance of winning now, but at least you could make him lose.

your face would burn when yoichi would hush your giggles with his mouth, smiling lips pressed to yours, deep whispers sending shivers down your spine when he playfully reminded you to watch your volume, the bright white of a hotel pillow over your face, muffling each tiny noise when he kisses down your sternum, your stomach, between your thighs.

he really couldn’t help it, not when you called him, muttering something about “how could he do that?” through sobs and gasping breaths over the phone, his soft shushing sounds calming you only enough to spit out one complete sentence, “i need you, can you come over?”

“what have i told you?” his voice is even, stern when you enter his office, the door swinging shut with a gentle nudge of your hip. he’s as calm as the sea is beneath a raging storm when your eyes meet his, the static of lightning threatening to strike making the hair at the back of your neck stand on end.

in your field, you naturally are drawn to the regulars. a little part of it to make sure they behave, they don't get too attached, they don't fall in love with the persona you plaster on your live streams. although, most of it is because they happily spend the most.

your words inaudible over the sounds of a brawl on the file even as the grip grew tighter, your lips still moving and your eyes glowing even as the villain started to pull at the wires becoming more and more exposed the further your head twisted back. still with a smirk, you coughed up what looked like black blood, the hero partnered with you reaching the villain now atop you as the file ended, your eyes glowing even as your head nearly detached from your body, finally pausing on your features, splattered with the oil thrumming through your mechanical body, the only feature clear your eyes, and the nearly demented smile.

you hold in a grunt at the weight now in your arms, refusing to act anything more than unfazed around him, despite the tremble in your biceps when you set down the final box at the top of the stairs, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of the boxes strewn around the hallway, mostly just necessities, your mother and katsuki’s father still at the old house finalising everything.

how many men’s fingers had he cut off for daring to touch you? how many throats cut? how many bodies buried in places they’d never be found? how many commands was he given to protect you?

“i have his hands, his heart, his skin. his mind.” it looks down at you, again staring curiously when you begin to cry. “but you’re not him.” “no.” it admits. “you killed them? all of them? touya is dead?” “does knowing what killed them make any difference?”

the thump of her head falling back onto the wall drowns out your innocent questioning, her name all that ended up reaching her ears. her hands are clenched at her sides, desperate to curl into your hair and pull you back where she needed you, to hold you close like she’s sure you hold your pillows, to hump your face like you do the lump of fabric when you’re alone with thoughts of her. when touya finally responds, her chest is heaving and her voice gravelly, “hmm? yeah, baby, i’m okay.”

you don't dare speak, don't dare risk her jumping away from you, to leave your thighs cold of her touch. face to face, you're both stepping on the line between what you are, and being something more, one foot over the line. the blanket shifts with a soft noise, more of her skin pressing to yours, another toe stepping over the line. there's a beat, a rush of adrenaline, a realisation.

OKAY IM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS IS WAHH I DIDNT EVEN INCLUDE ALLMY WIPS LMAO

no pressure tags!!!! @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @zeninsama @y2karasu @melon-fodder @teddybeartoji @pink-melk @crybaby-bkg + anyone who sees this!!

wip folder

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous and tag AS MANY PEOPLE AS YOU HAVE WIPS - people send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then you post a snippet or tell them something about it!

I was tagged by @bkgexe, who changed the rules a bit to post a snippet instead of the name of the file, which I'm gonna do as well, because most of mine are Untitled Document, and when I visit them, it's a bit like a guessing game to know what's what. so here are my wips in no particular order, some of which are shamefully old:

☆The horses blow wild plumes of steam as they haul the wagons, crying in protest when the winds blow harder and the mountain passes climb higher.

☆Tonight feels like someone else's dream.

☆For the third time this month, your best friend sits across from you at your desk, using the last of your tissues to sob and snot about her latest dating disaster.

☆“He's a defense attorney,” she explained. “He's one of the best. I think he can help you.”

☆he sits across from you at your kitchen table. haze of smoke, only light is from the fluorescent under the cabinet. too harsh, you think, for the delicate nature of this conversation. “I don't think we should do this anymore.”

☆He drives, they make small talk. "Your hair looks pretty," he says with a charming, boyish smile. "You never wear it down." Nimble fingers reach over to twirl a few strands of it around his fingers, and she blushes beautifully. He thinks he'll never tire of making her feel flustered, though it's embarrassingly easy for him to do so

I'm gonna tag @filtheopathic @yinyuedijun @scary-grace @peachdues @dilucs and @kweenkatsuki-fics . if I didn't tag you and you want to play, please feel free to jump in and do your own! and if you've already been tagged by someone else, please disregard. yahoo!

[eliounora]

my country bumpkin🍅

[alevolpe]

Working on a sort of spiritual successor to my very old Mako panels. It's also an excuse to work on a comic again (I'm so bad at them)

[valenkad]

Some wips. Idk always forget about tumblr :-P🫵

[a-ikuoliver]

me when half of my sentences are whole paragraphs

katsuki doesn’t respond with a single word, her dishevelment, glossy smirk, and a picture she flashes them enough of an answer; her phone screen dimly displaying the cute girl she had gone upstairs with, now with her brown bob messily strewn over the pillow she laid on, fringe sticking to her forehead when she smiled up at the camera, holding up two fingers as she posed with her shirt unevenly buttoned.

you want to look closer, a morbid curiosity washing over you, simultaneously wishing katsuki would answer every question hanta and denki threw her way and wishing she had never even invited you to this party, never met her friends, never seen the look in her eyes as the girl tugged her upstairs.

you’re standing before you even register your own movements, stumbling a little on your feet as you stand, only just managing to steady yourself before spilling your drink.

three pairs of eyes are trained on you, all of them curious, intrigued, denki the only one to cringe away from you, worried you might vomit where you stood.

gingerly, you spun back around to face the group, a shock of adrenaline sobering you when your glassy eyes locked on katsuki’s mischievous ones.

“you wanna go, or somethin’?” her voice was rough, deep like it was after she’d sleep at your house, like it was before she’d fall asleep at your house, shrouded in dim light with your fingers tangling in the shorter hair at the nape of her neck.

again, you grew quiet, a heat swirling inside your stomach that didn’t match the jealous upset circling your head.

thank u lukey!!! no pressure tags: @fushigurro @weird-dere-writes @kaidabakugou @eijirhoe @t-tomuras @deskaisers @kweenkatsuki-fics

tyty for the tag, @emelkae!

rules: post the last seven sentences you've written, then tag seven people.

this was actually never supposed to see the light of day (didn't even make it out of my notes to a doc lmao) so no title for this

How long until he himself is slain in the name of peace across the nation and finally laid to rest in waters marred by his own blood and for once not that of others? Surely the blood should be gone by now. But he can feel it, splashing up to his shoulders. Pouring down his lungs. He is wading in it. How much blood is on his hands? Too much.

open tag ofc!! buuuut for the challenge rules i'm tagging: @perpetualcynicism, @minhxiao, @frankenjoly, @legend-of-cupcake, @thirdleaflogic, @cocrante, @airbluest

[nettleparade]

um....hiiiiii.......nice to meet youuuuu............

[bearmageddon]

Just drew Em with freckles for the first time! I think I’m in love

[helveticathestitcher]

Some WIP shots of an upcoming pride month custom build. It's a little late but I live in Portland and our pride is this weekend so I'm gonna give it to me.

Edit:

You can see the finished piece here

[ultrainfinitepit]

Sketched out some angel ideas for different Angelic Hierarchy themes. I'm leaning toward Celestial Horror, Animals, or Planets myself - but you can let me know in the poll below what your favorite is :))

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for lottie behind the cut; a pocketful of Kons. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He’s the only one who cares about that, Bart guesses, since nobody else has to.

So it sucks, yeah. 

It really, really sprocking sucks. 

Helen sighs, her shoulders slumping, then glances back towards the TV. Bart finishes off the last bar and throws the box and wrappers away and glowers at the stupid grilled cheese that’s taking forever and then grabs a couple of bananas and eats them too and then gets back to the couch just in time to see Match start nibbling testingly at his own little chunk of protein bar and Helen finishing turning back to the TV. 

“Is this still on?” he asks, squinting dubiously at it. It’s still the news, and on top of that still footage of the maybe-armored/maybe-robot guy. How much of that do they even have, geez. 

A lot, he guesses. 

“It’s been less than five seconds, Bart,” Helen says, looking frustrated for a moment–a million-billion moments, at Bart’s speed–and then just sighs again. “You need to stop spending so much time in subjective time. It’s doing nothing for your patience.” 

“I guess,” Bart replies with a shrug, and then Helen doesn’t say anything back for so long that he forgets what they were talking about to begin with and runs back to the kitchen for another banana. He forgot to save a bite of the first two for Match to try, and maybe he’ll like ‘em or at least he’ll like getting brought ‘em ‘cuz he liked him setting up the mirrors and stuff for him and why’s he always have to slow down, why can’t anyone else just grifin’ speed up for– 

“Bart!” Helen shouts out of nowhere, and Bart trips over the coffee table coming back into the living room and, uh. Whoops. 

Ow, he thinks from the floor, blinking up at her as Match immediately drops his protein bar chunk and starts screeching at her, for like . . . some reason? 

Bart’ll figure it out later, he guesses. 

“What was that for?” he asks her with a frown. Helen looks frustrated, and Match zips over and starts pushing at his face with his tiny little super-strong hands, for . . . some other reason, Bart guesses, he really doesn’t know. “Stop squishing my face. Why are you squishing my face? It’s annoying.” 

Match scowls at him, then grabs onto both of his cheeks and squishes them together. 

“I think you’re kind of a brat,” Bart says, squinting sourly at him. “Did I tell you I think you’re kind of a brat yet? ‘Cuz I definitely do think that.” 

He really definitely thinks that, yeah. 

“Imp,” Match says accusingly. Bart doesn’t really feel like that’s an answer, really? 

Then again it’s not like Match knows any other words yet and he definitely doesn’t know any Pocket-talk, so that’s probably kinda unavoidable and– 

“Please focus, Bart,” Helen says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If this is your soulmate on the news . . .” 

“Oh, he’s probably not,” Bart says with a shrug, because Match really seemed annoyed when he asked if the guy on the news was him or not. “Especially if he’s Superman. She’s? They’re? I dunno, I didn’t figure out if they’re piloting a robot yet or not, so who knows.” 

Helen–frowns, and lowers her hand away from her face to give him a weird look. Bart pretends it’s not a weird look. It’s fine. He’s just–it’s fine. That’s all. 

“Bart, your soulmate is Superman,” Helen says. 

“Oh, yeah,” Bart agrees. “But he’s not that Superman. Like, the first guy, I mean. The first guy’s still gonna be dead for like–ummm, what’s the date again?” 

Helen stares at him some more. 

Bart doesn’t fidget. 

At least not slow enough for her to see, anyway. 

“Pretty sure the robot guy isn’t the first Superman either,” he says. “Superman’s real big on people seeing his face. And doesn’t even wear gloves or anything. But like, especially the face thing, right?” 

“Why do you think your soulmate isn’t Superman, Bart?” Helen asks carefully. 

“‘Cuz I asked Match?” Bart replies, wondering why that’s even, like, a question? Obviously he asked Match. A) it’s super-obvious, and b) why would he not ask Match? Who else would even know, anyway? 

“You . . . asked him,” Helen repeats slowly, staring blankly at him again. 

“Yeah,” Bart says, still wondering why this is even a question. “Like, he’d know. And also I wasn’t actually allowed to leave the house and I don’t have the Fortress of Solitude’s phone number or anything so–” 

“Bart,” Helen cuts in, glancing sidelong at the TV for a moment, and then down at Match. “If he’s not Superman, then who is he?” 

“I dunno,” Bart says. “Maybe he’s Nightwing, actually."

“Who?” Helen looks bewildered. Bart squints at her. Do they not have Nightwing yet? At least one of them, anyway? 

“I mean, there’s been a lot of Supermen, and I guess a lot of them looked pretty much the same?” he says, then shrugs purposelessly. Not that he ever really paid attention to all that ancient history stuff, just he vaguely remembers hearing about it a couple times. “I guess, anyway. Though maybe he’s Supergirl, actually, I guess she looks kinda like Superman sometimes too. Match, are you Supergirl?” 

Match fixes him with the most dubious look in the world, then gestures pointedly at himself. Bart has absolutely no idea what said gesturing means, but okay, he guesses. 

“I don’t think he’s Supergirl either,” he tells Helen. ”Though if he is maybe somebody should ask her about her pronoun preferences?” 

Helen looks a little stressed, for some reason. Bart doesn’t get it. She starts to open her mouth to say something–and takes a subjective month about it–but gets interrupted when the front door opens and Max walks in through it. 

Max looks at Helen’s stressed expression and then at Match’s dubious look and then at Bart, and then he sighs. Bart–prickles, kind of.

It doesn’t feel good, that Max sighed like that about him. 

Not like it ever does, though.

[a-ikuoliver]

shycat emoji

[kooriko27]

i cant draw my babygirl properly now 😭😭

[francarieq]

i heart hermes i’m so sorry guys

[decaffeinated-heads]

Tired but cooking

[valenkad]

Some summer wip's🌞🌞🌞🙏🙏🙏