#Happy wip wednesday I guess?

[mx-myth]

Thinking about an AU where post-canon liansanjiao time-travel back into the past just soon enough that the donghai battle is avoided. Everyone and their mother is confused when Li-mengzhu of the Sigu Sect and Di-mengzhu of the Jinyuan Alliance - who had previously been having a bloody feud over Shan Gudao's death - meet up and announce two days later that there's now a peace treaty is place. Jiao Liqiao is furious that dfs went over her head and that she wasn't invited. Everyone in Sigu Sect is confused - and even more so when lxy/llh declares that qiao wanmian (who everyone knows had all but officially broken up with him) is now his co-sect leader and also that they're not engaged anymore.

Meanwhile, in Tianji Manor, fdb has just started to walk. Master He and the rest of the He-Fang family are bewildered as to why his passion for martial arts has cooled, even if he's still practicing. In reality fdb is honing his personal sword style and waiting - and sure enough, a few days later, lxy/llh shows up and announces that this is the kind of disciple he's been looking for.

Two birds with one stone: the alliance between their sects means that dfs and lxy/llh help each other out (disposing of sgd and figuring out what to do about jlq) AND fdb gets to learn all of the techniques llh couldn't physically teach him because he was sick. Added bonus if seeing fdb at around ten years of age dfs and llh have to finally confront the fact that they may just - just MAYBE - might be cradle robbers. Fdb finds this hilarious. Of course no one makes a move until he's of age (though of course the entirety of Sigu Sect and the He-Fang family assume they know about the planet-sized crush he has on his shifu; slightly less people think they know about his equally huge crush on dfs) but it finally happens on dfs' birthday, some months after fdb's coming of age. Huli Jing is present, because of course llh found her again (they're all equally split on whether or not she somehow also remembers). Everyone relevant is there and giving presents to dfs; when it's fdb's turn he steps up, empty-handed, and grins, and drags him into the filthiest kiss ever known in the jianghu. There are some dramatic scandalised gasps (from li lianhua). There is some clapping (from li lianhua). There is even a wolf whistle (from li lianhua). (Everyone else is frozen.) Difang continue sucking face.

(Later, when they're alone, fdb tells them that they have to get married soon, because he wrote to the imperial palace to tell the princess why he couldn't marry her, so if they don't get married he'll be executed for lying to the emperor, maybe, so really they should just get married)

[onthewaytosomewhere]

the wip-iest of days

so after a bit of delay - i.e. distraction in the another wip variety i'm back in my southern philanthropy words.

thanks ever so much (dr, alex) @theprinceandagcd & @typicalopposite for the early wednesday tag! 💚

words and lots of tags under the cut

“I have it on good authority that anyone from Texas can be a cowboy with the right attire, though that drawl of yours makes me think you wouldn’t need the clothes for it.”

“I have a friend that used to say that every Texan was one cowboy hat or flannel away from singing ‘Home on the Range.’” Percy cocks his head, and Liam elaborates, “It’s an old song we all had to learn to sing in grade school and all about ‘that cowboy life’”

“Yeah, I’m somewhat familiar with the song …” Percy trails off, and Liam seizes the opportunity to get them back on track; after all, he was promised to be allowed to play the part of the broncing buck. His fingers make quick work of undoing Percy’s fly, and he follows as Percy stands back on the floor at the side of the bed and assists Lian in pushing the not-quite-leather pants to the floor.

Liam is curious about how they can be both leather but also something else he can’t place, and he is about to ask when he realizes Pez is standing in front of him in nothing but a thong. They leave nothing to the imagination, clinging to his uncut cock, and Liam slides his finger along them, sliding one under the waistband and exposing the tip of Percy’s cock. He leans in and licks at the exposed tip, tonguing the foreskin still clinging to the head. He watches as it slides down to rest just under the tip and tongues at the frenulum there on the underside of what might be the prettiest cock he’s ever seen, and he hasn’t even seen it all. He hooks a finger in the silky thong, tugging it down to expose the rest of the cock, he really wants to get his mouth around.

💚💚no-presssure, tag ur it to @adreamareads @agame-writes @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites

@dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03 @england-would-fall @firenati0n @firstsprinces

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

@inell @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jellibuns @jmagnabo92

@junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @mikibwrites

@msmarvleouswinchester @nocoastposts @piratefalls @priincebutt @softboynick

@sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @stellarm @suseagull04 @tailsbeth-writes

@taste-thewaste @thedramasummer @thesleepyskipper @thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex

@wordsofhoneydew @yrsacdfox @indestructibleheart @everwitch-magicks

@cricketnationrise @orchidscript @cha-melodius

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

[wayward-sherlock]

sometimes i just think mike would like a hug.

[wraithsoutlaws]

theyre so in love

[respheal]

WIP Wednesday!

[Link] gathered the courage to look at the entrance again and found none of the age he knew should be there. None of the settled dust and erosion or fallen rocks. The walls looked freshly carved, the Shrine whole and untouched by time. Despite the discrepancies, he didn’t dare explore deeper—not if he didn’t have to. Instead, he turned away, facing the overlook where he had his first view of the country after a hundred years. A figure sat at the edge of the cliff, a long white braid trailing down his back. Link froze. He dug his fingers into the wall, asking the sensation for assurance that this was real. Of course, it could have been a dream anyway—a dream that was real. A vision shared with a god trapped in a mask. Swallowing hard, Link stepped forward, his boots crunching against the loose gravel. The land of Hyrule rose into view over the cliff’s edge, vast and achingly familiar. In the center sat the castle, surrounded by five Sheikah spires and a glistening lake. The Great Plateau tower loomed nearby, its interior glowing electric blue, matching the other towers scattered across the horizon. Farther east, where Link expected to see the ruins of an ancient temple, stood an intact building, aged but whole. Even in the time of the Calamity, the building had fallen into disrepair. Link drew closer to the figure at the cliff’s edge. Red warpaint marked the god’s cheeks, just visible under the silvery hair framing his face. He wore his armor beneath a loose cloak, its folds catching in the faint breeze. A gauntleted hand rested on a drum by his side. Although he made no motion to acknowledge Link, his presence felt crushingly heavy. “Sheik,” Link said, naming the god—the forgotten patron of the Sheikah. The Fierce Deity blinked as if awakened from a trance. He turned slightly, his eyes locking onto Link’s with an expression of deep regret. A faint, apologetic smile tugged at his lips. “It’s too soon, friend,” Sheik said. “You’re not meant to be here yet.” As if shoved, Link fell backwards, tumbling into a void— He snapped awake, jolting out of bed and choking back a yell.

[stevesjockstrap]

WIP Wednesday y’all

@eddiethehunted requested ☹️ Crash & Burn feels (also your fault for throwing me into Savage Garden nostalgia)

Wanna play?

When you feel all alone and the world has turned its back on you

Give me a moment please to tame your wild, wild heart

Eddie’s phone buzzed, and buzzed again. He looked down at it. 1:39am. Two messages from Steve.

Groaning, he flipped his phone over and peeled himself off his couch to pace back and forth across the room, hands raking through his hair. Why couldn’t he just block his number? It’d been weeks (maybe months?) since he’d heard from him.

He only reached out after some girl broke his heart. Again.

Eddie couldn’t keep-

His phone started buzzing more urgently, repeatedly. Picking it up, he saw Steve’s name and had to answer it.

“Hey.”

“Hi Eds…”

🖤

[bittersqxtch]

got to 5k works for Mesmerising You today, AND crossed the 2k word count for the Trumpet Creeper fic too!! (I have yet to give it a name but we'll cross that bridge later)

anyway, I'm so proud of me ;^;

[allastoredeer]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ WIP WEDNESDAY ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

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There was something…off about Lucifer.

Something that wasn’t adding up.

Alastor watched him from a distance. At first it was to get a better read of him, and how long he intended to stay, but the as the days ticked on, an unsettling feeling of wrongness grew in the pit of Alastor's stomach.

It’s the mixer that set off the first alarm.

Lucifer followed through with his promise to get Charlie a meeting with Heaven—now scheduled a few days from then—and he and Charlie were in the kitchen cooking up a celebratory meal.

Alastor hid in the shadows, watching the two bubbling personalities with growing boredom.

“Oh, wow, it’s been a while since I’ve been in here,” Lucifer said, wandering around the kitchen as Charlie pulled appliances out of cupboards and ingredients out of the pantry.

“Yeah, Vaggie and I rearranged a lot of the hotel. To make it new and refreshing, you know?”

Lucifer nodded, as if he understood exactly what she meant. “Well, you’ll have to show me where everything is, I guess,” he laughed, opening a few cupboards. “Because I have no idea where that blasted mixer is. I could’ve sworn it was in here.”

“I’ll grab it, let me just—oh, hold on,” she pulled her phone from her back pocket as it started ringing. “It’s Vaggie. She’s out running errands. Do you mind if I?” She gestured to the door.

“Oh, go right ahead. I’ll get everything ready in here.”

“Thanks, dad.”

She left and Alastor was prepared to follow her example, as there was hardly anything worth watching in the kitchen, but paused when Lucifer let out a deep, happy sigh and turned, walked to a cupboard across the room, and pulled out the mixer.

Alastor frowned.

But it could’ve just been a lucky guessed, he reasoned as Lucifer plugged the appliance into the wall, humming a jaunty circus tune to himself. But then Lucifer opened a drawer close by, grabbed a wire whisk, then hopped a few shelves over for a mixing bowl. The squirm in Alastor’s gut tightened.

For someone who hadn’t been there in centuries, he sure knew his way around.

Still, that wasn’t too strange. Lucifer was an immortal being. A few centuries was probably little more than a week for him. Who could say how his memory matched?

Except…

Didn’t Charlie say she and Vaggie rearranged everything?

His magic, Alastor decided. Divine powers of an angel, and all of that. Surely that would cover finding basic kitchenware.

But even that explanation felt a bit…off.

Something about it wasn’t right.

It was Lucifer’s confidence. The way he strode from cupboard to cupboard without a lick of hesitation or a hint of doubt. No fumbling, no second guessing, no pulling out the wrong drawer, even on accident.

Still hidden, Alastor inched closer, to get a better look.

That’s when Lucifer turned his head and looked at him.

For a split-second, when those red slitted eyes met his, Alastor thought he’d accidentally stepped out of the shadows, because all of the sudden, Lucifer's smile was gone, his humming dropped, and the cadence around him became tangibly colder. Alastor checked himself but, no, he was still hidden. Still covered in shadows in the corner of the kitchen, where the lights weren’t far enough to give away his hiding spot.

But Lucifer didn’t look away. He wasn’t moving. Wasn’t blinking. It didn’t even look like he was breathing.

There weren’t many things in Hell that unsettled Alastor anymore. He’d encountered demons without eyelids, ones who seemed to disappeared when they stopped moving, plenty who didn’t need to breath or eat for days on end.

Lucifer was hardly the strangest, or scariest, thing he’s seen, and yet…

He slowly cocked his head and took a step around the counter. Alastor’s heart jumped. Lucifer still hadn't broken eye contact. He walked slowly, not like he was scared or nervous, but careful and quiet, like a predator stalking through bushes. Trying not to startle its victim.

Alastor figured he may as well step out of the shadows, seeing how his presence was obviously known. Or he could simply leave. Just meld into the darkness and return to the parlor to see if anything interesting was going on at the bar.

But he couldn’t, for the life of him, move.

His body refused to. His lungs held his breath captive in his chest. His heart thumped harder with growing unease.

Deep in the recesses of his mind, a small, intrinsic voice told him to stay still. To keep eye contact. So certain that if the moved, if he took his eyes off of Lucifer for one second, he wouldn’t be fast enough to see him a second time. Before it was too late.

The closer he got, the louder that voice became, until Alastor didn’t feel like he was controlling the shadows so much as the shadows were holding him in place. He was trapped, completely and utterly, and he could. Not. Look. Away.

Lucifer was only a few feet away when the doors flung open and Charlie bounded inside, hauling a load of groceries with Vaggie close behind. His change was immediate.

The air warmed, his dark demeanor disappeared and a wide, happy smile lit up his face. He whirled around. “Char-Char, welcome back! I think I found just about everything.”

“Oh, wow, you did,” Charlie said, looking over the counter. “It wasn’t too much of a hassle, was it?”

“Ah, not at all, kiddo. I found may way around. Ready to get started?”

“Yes! Here, Vaggie got the rest of the things we needed.”

Lucifer walked to her with a pep in his step, but as he rounded the counter, he looked at Alastor again, face impassive and cold, and suddenly Alastor was being thrust away. He stumbled out of the shadows on the third floor, knocking into a hall table that nearly took him off his feet. He clutched it, barely keeping himself from hitting the floor.

He stared at the wall, stunned.

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I've mentioned that I've wanted to write a dark!Lucifer fic and I got an Anon a while back asking how I would go about writing that.

Well, here's a little piece.

[killerlookz]

Can u post a preview of heartbeat pleaseee im so desperate i’ve missed this au so bad

yessss.... i can :3, ahh happy WIP wednesday everyone hehehe

heartbeat! au: part 4 preview under the cut!

rpf warning, do not continue if uncomfortable!

Joost scoffs, his presence in the room suddenly overwhelming.

"You're kidding right?" His voice is dry, you can tell he is, at the very least, trying to not be accusatory, instead it just comes across as demeaning.

"What?" You're confused, unsure of what the supposed joke is.

"That you love him. You don't really? You're just saying that."

"Oh," You pause, looking down at your lap, realizing you're still undressed, "Yeah, I guess- no- I don't"

"You guess?"

"Yeah," You shrug, unsure of what he's getting at, "I guess."

"No fucking shit." Accusation becoming richer in his tone, he smiles in pure disbelief, his voice almost a laugh, "You have fucking feelings for him." He shakes his head, seemingly bewildered.

"No- I, no. I didn't say that." You turn towards Joost, stammering, you know how this will end, "No no-no I don't."

"Bullshit." He spits, standing up from where he'd been sitting on the bed, "Do you love him?" He steps to your side of the bed, standing over you, tilting his forehead down, fully interrogating you now.

Joost had never been intimidating to you, not like this, sure, before you had started dating and when you'd had a little crush on him he had made you nervous, but not intimidated.

"No- I-" God you're pathetic, stuttered no's are just about the only thing you can muster out of your mouth. You beg for any other sound to leave your mouth, but it won't, you can't.

"Say it then." His jaw clenches.

"Say what?"

"Say you have absolutely no feelings for him, tell me you don't love him."

"Joost," You start, pulling the comforter up to the chest, sensing an argument approaching, and preferring not to do it naked, "Stop this, what are you trying to prove?"

"Wanting to cut things off, wasn't about being unfair to Michael, it's because you love him." He's got it all wrong, at least, you're pretty sure he does.

"No, no, Joost that's not true I was just sick of the guilt, the sneaking around, I just want to try, I want to try to be a good person." It's all too much, tonight has been far, far too much, the warm tears finally beginning to brim in your waterline, obscuring your vision of Joost hovering above you as you look up at him. You attempt to blink them away, but the fluttering of your lashes just propels the small droplets down your cheek.

"Just, look me in the eyes, and tell me you don't have feelings for him." He's practically begging, the anger in his voice is only surface level, insecurity and anxiety buried deep beneath the demanding words.

"Please, stop, you don't need to be like this." You're fully crying now, unable to take this interrogation, god, why can't you just tell Joost you don't have feelings for Michael, why won't the words come out of your mouth?

"Exactly." Joost's face writhes, throat bobbing as he swallows down what you can assume is a desire to begin to cry, "Get out."

"W-what? Why?" He's never been like this before. Many times has Joost been angry with you, furious even. But kicking you out? That was a new one. You're unsure of what has gotten into you, and you'd be lying if you said it ddidn't frighten you just a little. "Get out?" You repeat, eyebrows furrowing, choked words barely above a whisper.

"No," He sighs, and you hope he's come to his senses. "No- no, whatever. I'm sleeping on the couch. You can leave first thing in the morning. I'll give you what you so clearly want, we'll end things here." He sounds defeated, the anger finally subsiding in his voice, giving way to whatever emotions it had been meant to mask.

[suzukiblu]

Hello, Happy Wip Wednesday! Weird Kryptonian bonding rituals please?

“And this is your Uncle Jimmy,” Clark informs Superboy helpfully as he points at Jimmy, figuring Lois needs a moment to process some stuff. “I’ll introduce you to your grandparents later, they’ll wanna meet you as soon as possible.” 

“What is happening right now?!” Lois hisses to Jimmy. Clark’s a little puzzled, again. “Is this how you have kids with somebody?! This isn’t how you have kids with somebody!” 

“Well, it wouldn’t have been my first guess, anyway,” Jimmy says. 

“What do you mean?” Clark asks, still puzzled. “This is a totally normal way to have a kid.” 

“In what possible way is this normal, Smallville?!” Lois demands. “Did your parents not give you the talk?!” 

“Yeah, it went ‘we kinda just found you in a field out back’,” Clark replies reasonably. Lois . . . pauses. 

“. . . I hate how much this explains about you,” she mutters under her breath, putting her hands over her face.

[moodymelanist]

happy wip Wednesday everybody. @nessianweek is 2.5 weeks away and I am SO HYPE. can you guess the prompt for this one? 🤭😏

“What exactly did she say it was?”

Azriel, who hardly ever showed what he was feeling so freely, actually started to turn a little pink. “I…”

“Whatever it is, I can handle it,” Nesta responded, more than a little impatient now. Surely it couldn’t be so terrible that even he was reluctant to say what had happened. “Just tell me, Azriel.”

Cassian of course picked that moment to stir, his wings twitching a bit as he slowly started to wake up from his magically-induced sleep. Strangely enough, instead of trying to push himself up so he could see what was going on, Nesta could only watch in surprise as his hips rocked downward against the couch with a loud grunt.

His odd behavior began to make some sense as Nesta nearly choked on the scent of his arousal, so strong that it nearly rivaled the weeks after their mating ceremony. Azriel took several steps away from Nesta, clearly already plotting his own exit, likely to avoid whatever mating instincts might rise to the surface at him being so close.

Nesta wasn’t having any of it. She marched across the room to stand before Azriel, releasing just enough of her magic to make her eyes burn with cold flame. “What. Happened.”

“I don’t know,” Azriel replied, clearly starting to panic a little as Cassian started truly rising to consciousness with a series of low moans. “He got stung by something while we were on watch, and then he started acting like that, and Madja said he’d have to just work it out of his system so of course I took him here—”

“Nesta,” Cassian groaned, his eyes nearly black as he sat up and looked around wildly. Once his eyes found her, he seemed to calm somewhat, though the scent of his arousal didn’t weaken in the slightest. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Cassian,” Nesta said as calmly as she could manage. She was beginning to understand why Azriel had been so reluctant to tell her what was going on, and she looked back to the Shadowsinger just in time to watch his expression turn incredibly alarmed. “How long will he—?”

“Not the faintest idea, leaving now,” Azriel answered as quickly as possible, none of his usual grace present as he turned and practically fled the room.

“Don’t worry about him, Nes,” Cassian replied, barely a moment after the front door had slammed shut behind Azriel. “It’s only us now.”

[hereghostslive]

WIP Wednesday

thanks for the tag @carlos-in-glasses !!

yesterday I mentioned reapers and Tommy kinard, so here's some of it. I was going to wait until it was all finished to post but my sister is dragging me a long to lots of places today so I want have time to work on it.

trigger warning, but this does involve major character death for Tommy, although I don't want to totally bum everyone out so I will say it's temporary ... but we're definitely playing in this supernatural realm for a bit though. But this is definitely a Tommy Learns To Fight For His Own Happiness kinda fic.

--

Tommy never makes it to 2025. 

He knows this because he remembers the clock sitting at 11:59 p.m. when the semi hit his truck on New Years Eve. He supposes he could have still been alive while they tried to free him from his car, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? Tommy as he was, a person of mediocre value that held some mildly interesting presences in other people’s lives, was already gone. 

It just took his brain waves a few minutes to follow the rest of him into death. 

But they eventually made it there. 

So when he was fully dead, that was that. Life, completed. 

Was it satisfying? It had its moments, Tommy supposes. 

Did he have any regrets? Well, obviously. Who doesn’t? 

Did he have any unfinished business they should be aware of? I don’t – Wait, what do you —

“— mean by ‘they’?”

Tommy pauses, startled by the sudden sound of his own voice. He looks around but all he can see is a milky sort of darkness, rippling around him like waves in the ocean. If he looks too hard, he starts feeling dizzy, so he turns forward again, and then realizes he’s sitting on one side of a desk. On the other side is a figure of some indistinguishable shape. 

So? It asks. 

Tommy doesn’t see anything he can classify as a mouth move when the shape talks but he hears a voice all the same. 

Tommy clears his throat. “So, what?” 

Is there any unfinished business they should be aware of? 

Tommy’s hit with blue eyes and startled heartbreak, the sound of a door falling closed behind him. And him, the one who locked it and threw away the key. 

He shakes his head. “No. No unfinished business.” 

Good, the shape says. Your processing is complete. Someone will come to collect you soon. 

The shape disappears, there one second and gone the next before Tommy can even blink. 

And just like that, he’s alone. 

Dead, and alone. 

Happy fucking New Year to him. 

–

“Soon” turns out to be … well, Tommy’s not sure how long he’s been here. Somewhere between five seconds and five months sounds accurate to him. Though, does time even exist when you’re dead? 

He looks around him again, but the only thing he sees is that rippling sort of milky darkness. There’s no sound, either. And there doesn’t appear to be anyone else here, no other souls waiting to be … collected? That’s what the shape said, he thinks, however long ago it was that it said that. 

Tommy was never religious so he never really put a lot of thought into what happens after you die. If this is it, he can’t decide if people will be pleased with the answer that obviously something exists or unsatisfied with the result. Then again, nothing ever really turns out the way we want them too. 

As much as Tommy can guess, this is a waystation between the newly dead, and wherever it is you go after that. Whatever questioning he just completed must be part of the deciding factor. 

He wonders if he should be worried about the result but being dead kind of takes away all your worries. He’s not at peace, he doesn’t think, but maybe that part is what comes next. 

--

no pressure tagging: @liminalmemories21 @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @thisbuildinghasfeelings @cecilyv

@alrightbuckaroo @whatsintheboxmh @firstprince-history-huh @carlos-tk

some other bucktommy folks: @leashybebes @screamlet @alchemistc @beanarie @vamphours

[decafdino]

Wip Wednesday! And just under the wire too lol. Thank you to @nisbanisba @henrygrass @carlossreaders @whatsintheboxmh @lemonlyman-dotcom and @emsprovisions for the tags. So happy (nervous?) to announce that I’m starting a new wip for bthb, my superhero au (which I have no outline for and am flying by the seat of my pants lol)

With Jonah momentarily out of earshot, Carlos feels himself slump slightly. His shifts as a Texas Ranger are a different breed from when he was a cop, but that doesn't mean they're any less tiring. "I had not one, but two foot-chases today. You'd think white collar criminals would know better."

"Oh?" TK murmurs, wrapping his arms around Carlos' waist. His hands thankfully stay above the fabric of his shirt.

"You'll never guess how the second one ended. I ran into the Blizzard. Again." It was a whole thing. Carlos is thankful he didn't slip on the ice this time, because Sam never would've let him hear the end of it. Over the years, Carlos and the Blizzard kept running into each other, but he figured he'd probably see a lot less of him since his switch to the Rangers. He now knows that is not the case. Sometimes, Carlos swears the Blizzard is magnetized to him.

TK chuckles. "Don't act like you don't secretly love the thrill of it."

"Working with a vigilante? Yeah, I love cleaning up his messes." He sighs, the weight of day falling heavier on his shoulders as he recalls it. "And now my captain is on my ass about arresting him."

[blackberrysummerblog]

Hi all! I’m just out here being three weeks late with my 2024 Writing Round-Up, and thank you so much to @monbons, @forabeatofadrum, @confused-bi-queer, @rimeswithpurple, @nausikaaa, @prettygoododds, @ileadacharmedlife, @artsyunderstudy, @best--dress, @j-nipper-95, @roomwithanopenfire, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @imagineacoolusername, @mooncello, and @thewholelemon for tagging me! I hope I didn’t miss anyone, and thank you as well to everyone who’s been tagging me for Six Sentence Sunday and WIP Wednesday this month. Without getting too much into it, I am BURNT. OUT, and it’s making me retreat from even the things I enjoy the most, like writing and catching up on everyone’s beautiful fandom works.

But, I’m determined to make this round-up post, even if it takes me a couple of days to put together. There’s a lot here! Almost all of it was from COC, which I was hellbent on finishing this year, and did! Here’s the list, in chronological order, of all published writing for 2024:

The Field Trap, 1/2 (5272, M) This has been sitting unfinished for a bit, but I do anticipate it being completed. I discovered a real love for Watford-era fics toward the end of the past year, but it probably all began for me two years ago when I wrote Field Trip of Dreams, the prequel to Field Trap. At any rate, I haven’t forgotten the fic, and Field Trap may end up with an E rating in the second chapter.

Time Will Lie Down and Be Still (26,201, M) This is the fic I’m most proud of this year. It’s the result of my COBB collab with @rimeswithpurple, and it’s been such an inspiration to work with Arianna! I highly recommend the experience :D This fic has 3/5 chapters published so far, and I’m getting there with the 4th. I’ll share that Arianna finished the art for Chapter 4 the other day and it is STUNNING, so I need to get my part done! For anyone who doesn’t know, the fic is a retelling of the movie Practical Magic (I’ve never been able to get very far in the book, for whatever reason, so I wouldn’t count on the fic lining up with it). This one is close to my heart for many reasons, but I’ve especially enjoyed building Dev’s character and his relationship with Baz.

Absolutely everything else I published was for COC, and I’ll put it below a cut due to length. Thanks to everyone who read my work this year! As always, the output of this fandom is just incredible, and I’ve enjoyed being able to take it in as well as contribute a little myself. Happy New Year, everyone!

Something Old (1146, T) Simon finds something unexpected while clearing out space in the wardrobe.

Chosen (880, G) Agatha and Simon have just begun dating and Philippa attempts to engage her in a little friendly roommate squee. Agatha isn’t quite so sure.

I Hate You, Never Leave Me (2339, M) Simon and Baz have found a new and better way to settle their differences, by getting each other off all over campus. Will it evolve into anything more, however? (I love this one, honestly. Might have to someday write a more extensive version)

Greek (1565, T) Simon has to keep a very close eye on Baz in Greek class, for reasons.

Let Me See You (1205, T) Simon is the one to find Baz draining a deer in the forest instead of Agatha. His reaction is not what either of them was expecting.

Truth or Dare (2608, T) Does what it says on the tin—the gang play a game of Truth or Dare, and the dares reveal a little more truth than anyone expected. (Definitely not a groundbreaking take on the prompt, but I never really tire of reading truth or dare fics, and hoped readers would feel the same :P)

Gently, Gently (668, M) Simon and Baz spend the morning in bed, skiving off class and not regretting it at all. (I came to realize that an embarrassing number of fics I write either start out with the boys waking up in bed or that is the entire premise of the fic. “Waking up” is a weird fetish to have, but OK me, I guess)

Looking for Knives, Looking for You (1181, T) Baz reflects on all the wounds he and Simon have given each other over the years. (Despite the vicious sounding title and depressing summary, this one was meant to be sort of cute and sweet)

Hold You Safe (1015, G) At the start of Eighth Year, Dev and Niall’s relationship is still very new as they get some bad news from home.

Dinner (Guess Who’s Coming) (3525, T) It’s half term, and Baz’s parents want to take him to dinner. They invite him to bring a friend, but unfortunately for Malcolm, he pisses Baz off first, and Baz decides his guest will be Simon—the Mage’s heir, his family’s mortal enemy, and Baz’s undying secret crush. (As with nearly all my COC offerings this year, this fic was knocked out during my lunch break the day of, and it shows. It really could have stood to be longer and more developed, so maybe I’ll revisit it one day, since I did like the premise)

Stay with Me (878, T) It’s Eighth Year and Simon gets home late and injured from a mission. Baz arrives at a resolution. (I was a little baffled to get a comment about the Mage already being dead, since this fic takes place during the school year and makes mention of a very much alive Mage in multiple places. It was more of a statement than a criticism though, I think.)

A Charmed Life (1449, E) Baz and Simon have an utterly normal morning getting frisky in bed. (Again. Huh.)

A Horse Named Jane (736, T) Simon has that song stuck in his head again. The one Baz can’t stand. They work out a (sort of) compromise.

Sour and Sweet (3060, G) It’s Baz’s birthday and Agatha has just given Simon his walking papers. Oh no :P However, the breakup does little to lift Baz’s spirits. (This one has two chapters and filled two prompts, sour and sweet, natch. Chapter two’s summary is: Simon decides he needs to make something sweet for Baz’s birthday, even though he’s two days late and doesn’t know how to bake. Well, he’s got magic at his disposal, so things are sure to turn out just fine. :P)

Punk (828, T) Baz is making Simon join him for lunch with Fiona again, but Simon figures he’ll debut a new look & attitude. Will they actually make it to the restaurant? (I really enjoyed writing this one. Simon being frustrated with Fiona’s behavior and still being silly with Baz about it was just a happy place for me)

Surprise (733, M) Simon and Baz are engaging in one of their classic Mummers’ House tiffs. What will happen? :P (I did write a little surprise into this one, but it was very much in keeping with some of my favorite themes)

Cast in Fire (791, G) Simon comes to Watford and learns about how his roommate will be chosen.

Fluff and Nonsense (1627, T) The prompt is ‘fluff’ and did I once again take the opportunity to write a light-on-plot secret relationship fic about Watford-era Simon and Baz being cozy and silly in bed? Yeah, I might have. Simon is going home with Baz over the Christmas break. Not a lot going on here, they’re just really comfy and in love.

Pieces of Me (1557, M) Baz has been having nightmares. Simon comforts him and encourages him to open up.

The World Was Open (956, T) Agatha and Niamh attend Simon and Baz’s wedding, and Agatha overhears another guest making a snide remark.

Find Me (2374, M) Eighth year at Watford was unremarkable, and Simon and Baz last saw each other when they graduated. Seven months later, Dev and Niall drag a pining and protesting Baz out to a club for a night of drinking and dancing, but there’s a familiar face behind the bar. Simon Snow is serving drinks, and worse, he’s flirting with a Baz lookalike. What will happen :P (This was yet another fic that could have been developed a little more, but I was still happy with the result overall)

Warm Spell (1795, M) Goatherd Simon has been almost-encountering a beautiful stranger for several weeks now, but one hot summer day, they finally meet.

Lost and Found (575, G) The boys go shopping together and Baz temporarily loses Simon, but it’s all pretty plot-free :P

Truce (1101, M) Simon pesters Baz while he’s trying to study, and needs to learn a lesson. Will they be able to call a truce? (This one was where the trouble began—I changed my settings to allow comments from unregistered users, because I like to fuck around and find out, I suppose. And find out I did! Luckily, the rude comment I received took aim at some writing element that didn’t even make sense for this particular fic, and I quickly realized it was a bot. Not long after, I started getting comments on other fics as well, all very nonspecific to the fandom, characters, and genre. I’m so sorry because I know it upset a few readers who were very kind to clap back and reassure me, and I changed my settings back so that it wouldn’t happen again.)

Savour (1189, T) Simon has been away on one of his missions for the Mage, and Baz has been awaiting his return by leaving out plates of food in their room every night. (Bot’s review: “the worst fic in the fandom”. It’s not even the worst fic in my own oeuvre, so joke’s on you, guy XD)

We Were Always Together (2239, T) During cotillion class, Simon is forced to dance with Baz. The horror! (I flipping loved writing this. Full on had a blast and Would Write Again)

Let It Snow (925, M) It’s almost time for Christmas break at Watford, and it may not turn out as the boys planned. However, thanks to a spell gone wrong (or very right) it may yet work out for the best :P

Always (551, G) It’s Christmas Eve and Baz has just finished putting the kids to bed. Simon is putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree.

Something New (990, T) Simon and Baz have a little tiff near the end of eighth year, but it’s not fated to last long. I’ve written a lot of secret!relationship Watford era fics for COC this year, some that could go together and some that were in separate universes. It’s been so much fun to write about the boys sneaking around, but this is…something new. :P (In which I was very pleased with myself for how I wrapped things up in accordance with the prompt. I really, really enjoyed COC this year :D)

Thanks for reading! I’m sure most everyone has already made their own round-up posts, but consider these no-pressure tags and hellos: @valeffelees @stardustasincocaine @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @c0nsumemy5oul @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists @tender-ministrations @basiltonbutliketheherb @ghostpepperworld @larkral @letraspal @cows4247 @fiend-for-culture @palimpsessed @hushed-chorus @shrekgogurt @raenestee @cutestkilla @drowninginships @youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @beastmonstertitan @ic3-que3n @supercutedinosaurs @stitchy-queerista @alexalexinii @asocialpessimist @shutup-andletme-go @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @j-nipper-95 @wellbelesbian @bookishbroadwayandblind @orange-peony @papierhaikuphoto @martsonmars

[kiwiana-writes]

WIP Wednesday

Hey, y'all. I am struggling. With motivation, with ideas, with passion. Writing has always been my outlet and when the outlet isn't outletting... it's pretty fucking killer, I'm not gonna lie to you. I haven't read anything in literal weeks, either. Brains! Who'd have em?

Thanks to everyone who has continued to tag me over the last few weeks, and to @thighzp for the tag tonight. I really appreciate everyone who isn't just letting me disappear into the Void of Writers Past, which is basically my biggest fear lmfao.

Anyway. I have no idea what this is yet, apart from an attempt at a birthday present for a friend that stalled out and watched her birthday sail past, but!

Henry Fox is—allegedly—a pillow princess. It’s not like Alex has first-hand knowledge. He knows what a pillow princess is, because Nora once got very drunk and waxed poetic about how they’re underappreciated and unfairly maligned by the sapphic community. He also knows who Henry Fox is, because they shared a [something] class in freshman year in which Henry was tall and blond and British and annoying, and Alex didn’t miss a single opportunity to tell him that. But that was a year ago now, and Alex has never had any reason to think about those two completely unrelated pieces of knowledge in conjunction, except that his absolute least favourite lacrosse teammate is functionally incapable of having some fucking decorum, apparently.  “I mean, I guess it makes sense.” It’s not the first time Alex has internally described Darren’s face as punchable while Darren is running his mouth in the locker room, and it almost definitely won’t be the last. “When you’ve got a face like that, you probably don’t need to learn how to be good at it, you know? Guys will be lining up around the block to give it to him even if he just lays there.” “Including you,” Alex points out, because he has chronic can’t-shut-the-fuck-up disease and no real sense of self-preservation.

Tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517

@celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice

@everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz @larkral @leaves-of-laurelin

@lilythesilly @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @myheartalivewrites @ninzied

@nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @piratefalls

@porcelainmortal @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail

@sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @thesleepyskipper @thinkof-england

@tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

[stellewriites]

wip wednesday

last chapter of already spoken for is kiiinda there, just needs a paragraph or two. here’s a snippet from what i’ve actually got done (fully unedited, you can tell bc it’s lapslock and asf isn’t usually)

“how have you been, sunshine?” he asked as you took your seat.

“good. fine. yeah.” you nodded before you started to shake it. “actually, i wanted to apologise, john. for a lot of things but—“

“no need, sunshine, honestly,” he waved you off gruffly, leaning forward in his seat as you shrank back in yours. “i’m just glad you’re happy to see me now.”

“i am,” you confirmed with a shy smile, sat opposite him and growing more relaxed at the pleased twitch of his moustache.

“so what’s been new?” he asked again.

you snorted. “it’s not been that long since we last saw each other,” you said.

he blushed, the pink flush half hidden behind the beard he was growing back out.

“guess i got used to all your updates throughout the day quicker than i’d realised.” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. he looked to the counter and sat up straighter. “do you want anything? my treat.”

your smile had dropped at the reminder of how you’d skipped out of his life so suddenly; even though you didn’t owe him anything, you had grown to be friends before the wedding and you know you’d have been hurt if it had been the other way around.

should hopefully be done and ready to be posted in the next week or two,, super excited for this chapter and i’m hoping you’ll all like the ending c: