#I'm not getting into this in WIP Wednesday

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @for-a-longlongtime. 💜😘

Since I'm taking for fucking ever to get the next chapter of Closed Position finished, I'll give y'all another little teaser for WIP Wednesday.

Dieter's POV As soon as Kat walked into the bedroom, she paused. Her eyes caught sight of the purple happy stick in my hand almost immediately. My brows arched up at her as I fought a smile. 

“Where did you find that?” she asked nervously.

I tried not to laugh, “Under your pillow.” 

She looked horrified, “And you just picked it up without knowing whose it is or if it’s clean?” 

I shrugged, “I mean, it looks clean. I just assumed it was yours.” 

She shook her head as her cheeks tinged red, “Nope. Don’t know where that came from.” 

I clicked my tongue, “So, you’re telling me you’ve been sleeping with someone else's vibrator under your pillow all week and didn’t notice?” 

She stared at me with wide eyes, seeming unable to respond. 

“It’s OK, I know you were not doing yoga yesterday…If it makes you feel better, I beat off in the shower before I went and got us breakfast.” 

I tried my best to maintain a serious face as her lips twitched upward. I knew that would get her. 

“It doesn’t bother you…that I have one of those?” she asked quietly. 

My brows furrowed, “Of course not…why would it? Hell, I have a few myself.” 

I could see the tension leave her body, now realizing for the first time that she thought I would be upset over it. That fucking asshole.

I'm sure you can guess where this scene is going. 👀😂

Yeah...so...this chapter is going to be complete filth. However, we do learn some new things and get lots of bonding between these two. Kat gets a new nickname. You know how much she loves those. Anyone want to take a guess at what it will be? We also get the SNL monologue! That'll be fun because you know Dieter is not sticking to the script. He's a fucking menace.

I know you want to yell at me for the edging. It's ok, I understand. Yell away. 🤣

No ETA on the chapter yet, but I'm still slowly plugging away during my down time. I'll probably end up surprise dropping it on y'all without warning. 😏

Until then, 💜 Mysty

CP Taglist:

@titlee78 @legendary-pink-dot  @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs  @harriedandharassed

@hisandsnakes  @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing  @runningmom94  @sin-djarin

@cakipy-blog  @missladym1981  @guelyury  @weho2kcmo  @alokaerza  

@girlofchaos  @trulybetty  @rhoorl  @bitchwitch1981  @madnessofadaydreamer

@darkheartgatita  @jazzloveslatte  @timpletance  @musings-of-a-rose  @samiamproductions

@myloveistoolittle  @for-a-longlongtime   @copperhalfcent  @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter

@burntheedges  @stevie75  @bunniboo0015  @quicax3  @jackie923

@sherala007  @pastelnap  @angelofsmalldeath-codeine  @jessthebaker  @rebel-held

@gwendibleywrites  @senorabond  @annalovesflorida  @sandaltoesocks  @katw474

@txlady37 @inkmonster21 @sunnytuliptime @jeewrites @fifitheragertot

@pasc4lfuzz @toomanystoriessolittletime @tintinn16 @lizzie-cakes

[thosegayoldmen]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tags guys! @elodiah and @lokimobius

Late posting because I almost forgot about this entirely 😅 A little snippet more of my hug prompt for you all! 😘

He feels the mattress dip behind him, glancing over his shoulder to see Loki already climbing in bed and settling himself back against his pillow. At least they both had their own pillows, since it did seem like this bed was meant to be a double, albeit a very snug one. He stands, considering arguing one more time before realizing he’s far too tired and lifting his corner of the comforter, only to be stopped by Loki holding out a hand.  “Absolutely not, there’s no way you’re getting into bed still wearing that disgusting shirt Mobius. Take it off.” Mobius blinks down at Loki, taking a moment to process and figure out if he heard that right. When he’s sure he did, he just huffs indignantly. “Loki, I'm not-”  “Don't make me come over there and take it off for you.” The look on Loki’s face is deadly serious, and it makes Mobius close his mouth immediately.

Tagging mostly just so people can see at this point cause I'm super laaate 😅

@in-my-loki-feels @mythical-magik @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @devilbearingtrouble @impulsemuppet

@andthekitchensinkao3 @mirilyawrites @scifikimmi @silentxsymphony @ilaytrapsfortroubadours

@doomed-spectacles @natendo-art @boredintjqueen @kusakichan15 @rin-love-is-green

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag angel baby @guiltyasdave <3 • 18+ under the cut! MDNI!

wip #1 • far too familiar a stranger…feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

a long time ago, logan howlett knew a woman with your face…

i couldn’t not write a ‘worst!logan coming face to face with his tragically dead love interest but from wade’s universe after wade forced her to help them stop the TVA and hating her for bringing up that time in his life until he doesn’t anymore’ fic.

it's crimson because i felt that making whole new mutant reader would be sort of confusing so this fic is in the to the bone universe but it's not the same timeline...if that makes sense lmao

Wade Wilson is the worst neighbor in the entire fucking world. It’s really something you should have known sooner, like ‘the very first day in your new place ending with him breaking in through your window fully suited up after counting the floors wrong and bleeding all over your brand new pottery barn throw rug because he was still a little too concussed to walk’ sooner. Even after that whole fiasco left you with a broken window latch and a beyond fucked non-refundable $80 carpet, you still let yourself entertain his crazy. Just like everyone else whose life Wade crashed into, both physically or metaphorically. And once he's in, you can never really get him back out again. So yeah, maybe this whole thing is your fault. Maybe getting thrown into a barren, dusty void with two somewhat failed X-Men is just all your bad karma manifesting in one huge finger from the universe.

wip #2 • red and yellow kill a fellow! feat. logan howlett & wade wilson

logan doesn’t appreciate you letting wade get one up on him…

finally finally finally getting off my ass and writing logan x reader x wade! i was inspired by this one episode of satc (which is like my favorite show ever bee tee dubs) where charlotte goes out with two guys at the same time and she has sex with one but not the other until one of them catches her with the other guy and they all break it off.

my vision is a little different cause instead of getting mad and leaving when logan finds out reader fucked wade and not him, he figures it's his turn to get even. aka wade in the cuck chair and loving it.

The three of you pass a BMW sitting in a no parking zone, all four windows rolled down as Madonna blasts through the speakers. "So," Wade says, voice breaking the silence for the first time in five minutes. "Who white-washed your guts better?" You nearly trip over your own feet, whipping your head to gape at Wade. "Fucking excuse me?" "You know," Wade shrugs, like it's a perfectly normal thing to ask. The leisurely pace of his stroll not slowing, his hands still stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. "Who carved the lyrical railway better?" He just keeps going as you stare at him with a repulsed look on your face. "The number one stud that's stuffin' your muffin? That's takin the ol' bald-headed gnome for a satisfying stroll in the misty forest. Pick one hot stuff, they all mean the same thing." Before you can even answer there's a rough, questioning grunt from your right and your stomach flips. Oh. Logan, he was still here too. Still here and right next to you, listening. Oh yeah. "You fucked?" You still haven't slept with Logan yet. You turn to him face slowly, eyes a hair wide as you take in the sharp raise of his brow. "Um..." "Whoops," Wade snorts from somewhere behind your shoulder. "Cat's out the bag."

wip #3 • it's the easiest thing (just love me and eat me) feat. logan howlett

it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…

the same requested sub!logan fic from last wednesday just with a new name and weirder energy! like this has really gotten away from me and turned into something that i can't really explain well enough to make it sound like chill...

lots of religious imagery and symbolism...and some metaphors of cannibalism...idk i'm just a girl with religious trauma and a weird blood fetish sue me.

You've come to think that being in bed with Logan is like being in church. The familiar weight of his body pressing you into the mattress is the alter. The heat of it like laying in the burning flame of a candle. The strong planes of his muscles each a different scripture that you take in by touch alone, skating your hands over his skin with something close to worship. Each bead of sweat on his skin feels sacred, a testament to the intensity between you, as though every part of him has been crafted for this moment of devotion. The hard length of his cock carves a place for itself inside you, each heavy smack of his hips punching another desperate sound out of your slack lips. His breath, deep and ragged, is a chant that pulls you into reverence. It puffs against the wild beat of your pulse, his lips brushing over the fever hot plane of your skin. The sound of your name pulled from his mouth sounds like a prayer answered. You can’t help but close your eyes, not in exhaustion, but in a kind of spiritual surrender, like by shutting out the world, you can truly grasp the divinity of it. There's a holiness to the way he holds you—like you’re the only thing worth believing in.

kisses!

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing @superhoeva

[moonlitbirdie]

wip wednesday

tagged by @joelstummy @perotovar @guiltyasdave @evolnoomym and @for-a-longlongtime <3

i can't remember if i've shared any of upskirt frankie?? but here he is. he is a PERV. you are into it. proceed with caution.

You wonder if he’s pulled his phone out; if he’s surreptitiously trying to get a shot of you in front of all these people. Even if he hasn’t, just the thought is enough to turn you on. It sends a surge of recklessness through you, and you roll your ass against his crotch.  He grunts, but no phone drops from his hand.  Instead, as if by reflex, his hand rockets to your hip, hovering next to it before he thinks better and pulls back, trying to play it off as if he’d just been trying to catch his balance. You know better, though, if the bulge pressed against you is anything to go by The way he looks at you when you turn around to brush past him when you arrive at your stop is seared into your brain forever. You’ll go home and fuck yourself silly to the memory of it, lust and confusion etched so beautifully in every wrinkle and pore.  This is your favorite game.

tagging everyone because i'm too tired to think rn i'm sorry<3

[kalmiaphlox]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you @khywren for the tag 💕💕

I'm in a mood.

Can't decide if this'll be a one shot or a part of the main fic, but it's happening I guess.

How would Hircine touch him? Lightly and without confidence or with firm purpose? Maybe she would be more interested in using that pretty pink mouth to get him off. Oh gods, Astarion would like that, watching her lick along his length, staring up at him with those eerie eyes that glow a little too bright in the darkness. He could take a fistful of Hircine’s silky hair, guiding himself into her mouth and fucking her until tears run down her cheeks. Or he might be gentle, encouraging her to take as much as she can until he spends himself on her tongue. So many options and not a chance to use one. He’s gripping the base of his cock now, thrusting up into his hand, the dam ready to break— And the door opens.  Astarion freezes. No no no this can’t be happening!  How obscene he must look right now, reclined in bed, pleasuring himself with Hircine’s nightdress clutched against his face like it's a lifeline. The door closes. Lowering the nightdress from his sight, Astarion sees Hircine against the door, head tilted back as she takes in his grand display. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” She says in a tone that knew she would be interrupting and is definitely not sorry about it.

tagging @pinkberrytea, @busy-baker, @shewhowas39, @inkymoonbunny and @slothquisitor if anyone would like to share ❤️

[itsevanffs]

wip wednesday

it's wednesday in no sense of the word but honestly the past two weeks have been wack as fuck and my concept of time is shot to all hell. thanks for the tag @scribespirare!

i've been working on a select few tomarry fics still, every once in a while, and this is one of them. to the anon that said my vibe is 'incest tomarry'; you get a gold sticker for prophecy

---

“Look at you,” Tom murmured, impressed. “Tell you what, let’s get out of here. Aside from your stunt this morning, I’d say your behaviour has been more than reasonable today. How about a treat? I need to do groceries anyway, we’ll stop on the way.”

Harry stared at him, an expression of disgust on his face. “Am I ten?”

“Closer to ten than my age,” Tom said, rolling his eyes and grabbing his coat from the coatstand in the corner. “Now or never, Harry. What do kids like, anyway? Nando’s?”

“I’m going to throw up,” Harry deadpanned. “I’m puking right now. Take me to McDonald’s like a normal person.”

When they eventually got to the promised McDonald's and made their way inside to the counter, Harry surprised him by pulling a bus ticket out of his jacket pocket.

"Dailies are only valid for one day, you know," Tom drawled, about to add that they don't count as cheques, either, when Harry cut him off.

"No, you git," his nephew hissed at him. "There's a voucher on the back. It's good for ten weeks and I'm not about to waste it."

Tom's raised his eyebrows, but to the boy's credit, there actually was a voucher on the back. One ninety-nine for a Big Mac and fries, instead of whatever the usual price was. Three quid something. All spare change to Tom, honestly, but he couldn't help enjoying his nephew's oddly generous mood, so Tom let Harry do as he pleased.

"You don't want anything?" Harry asked him once they were sitting at one of the rickety plastic tables, Tom's nephew having just scarfed down about ten fries in one swallow.

"No," Tom answered, crossing his arms a polite distance away from the probably rancid tabletop. "I'm selective about what I put in my body."

Harry snorted inelegantly, grabbing another handful of far too salty fries. "You're a snob," he said, and crammed the fries in his mouth.

"You're disgusting," Tom retorted, relaxing. It felt easy, this. A routine, almost, some habit to fall back into. "I've got food at home."

"Oh yeah?" Harry started to goad, but Tom reached over the table to stop him with a grimace, clamping his hand over his nephew's mouth.

"Swallow before you speak," Tom said, disgusted.

"Tha's wha' she said," Harry said, muffled, and despite his mouth being covered, Tom could tell he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

---

tagging @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger, @moontearpensfic and @mosiva :D no pressure obviously. open invite to the rest of you, btw

[justagalwhowrites]

WIP Wednesday

I've had a few tags for WIP Wednesday from the last few weeks. If you have tagged me, please know I appreciate it! I just haven't wanted to share things too long before they're published and set some falsely high expectations. But I do miss sharing so I hope you enjoy!

I'm not sure when this stuff will go up but hopefully soon-ish.

Love you!

Halcyon

He groaned and you rolled to turn it off but you were only away from him for a moment before he pulled you back with a little yelp.  “Hey!” You laughed into his chest. “C’mon, we need to get going…”  “We got time,” he said, his voice husky, his hand skimming over your side, fingers trailing up to your breast.  “Joel…” you breathed, sounding just as needy as you felt and you tried to avoid the twinge of shame that crept in with that need.  “C’mon,” he said, tilting your chin so he could kiss you. “Lemme have you again. We got time.”  His hold on you tightened and so did the knot in your stomach and you knew you couldn’t say no to him. You never could.  “OK,” you said softly. “We got time.” 

Joel Miller Birthday Bash

I'm going to have a few things for this, I hope. Here's part of one!

Joel’s birthday was in a few days and you’d drawn a complete blank on what to get the man. You’d never gotten anyone a birthday gift who wasn’t your grandmother or your friend. What the hell did you get a boyfriend? What the hell did you get a man?  “You, naked, ready to recreate the filthiest porn the guy’s got,” Cassie said, not even looking up from the latest issue of Cosmo as she did. “And, because it’s you, bake him a cake or something. He’ll be thrilled.”  “I don’t know that Joel watches porn,” you crinkled your nose. That made her look up.  “Are you fucking kidding me?” She asked, incredulous. “Babes. He’s a man. Of course he watches porn.” 

If you see this post and want to share, consider yourself tagged!

[eevylynn]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @endwersed and @violetfairydust

This is from my fic for the Sterek Reverse Bang

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eventually, they found themselves way in the middle of a clearing, a cliff rising high on one side, providing at least one wall of protection from anyone stumbling upon them. A stream flowed along the opposite side, adding a peaceful ambiance to the area.

“Well, this is pretty,” Stiles said, turning in place to observe the clearing around him. “How did you find this place?”

“I used to come out here with my Cora, Laura, and our cousins,” Derek replied softly.

Stiles turned to give him a soft look, but he didn’t say anything because he knew Derek wouldn’t want to dwell on it.

“So, what’s the plan?” Stiles asked, swinging his arms nervously but trying not to look like he was actually nervous.

“First things first,” Derek began, “we need to find out how strong you actually are.”

“Yeah, obviously,” Stiles said.

“So, we know that when the Nogitsune had full control of your body, it was stronger than me.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Stiles winced, memories of the Nogitsune tossing Derek like a ragdoll flashing in his mind.

“Don’t worry about it,” Derek said firmly, dismissing Stiles’ concerns with a wave of his hand. “It wasn’t you.”

“We’re going to start with a warm up. What I want you to do first is climb that,” Derek said, pointing to the cliff that rose next to them. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m going to time you to see how fast you can climb up and then get back down.”

“What about you?” Stiles said. 

“I know how long it takes me,” Derek said simply.

“Well, I think you should climb with me,” Stiles said with a sly grin. “We’ll be able to compare better.”

“Stiles...”

“You just don’t want to face humiliating defeat if I beat you at this already,” Stiles taunted, his grin widening

Derek fought a smile, obviously debating internally whether or not he should give in. He shook his head with a sigh. “Fine,” he conceded, returning his phone back to his pocket. “Let’s get on with this.”

“And no jumping?” Stiles added quickly. “Just pure climbing, right?” He had seen how much the werewolves in his life took advantage of their ability to jump high and far.

“Just climbing,” Derek confirmed, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We’ll test your jumping later.”

They walked over to the cliff and discussed the best spots for both to climb, ensuring the challenge was as fair as possible. Once they were in position, Derek counted down.

“Ready. Set. Go!”

At Derek’s signal, they both grabbed a hold of the cliff wall and began climbing. Stiles was thrilled by how quickly he could identify the best handholds and footholds, his muscles working in perfect coordination to propel him upward. Glancing quickly to his left, he saw that he and Derek were neck and neck. The surge of confidence pushed him to climb faster, and before he knew it, he was pulling himself over the top.

Mere seconds later, Derek joined him at the top, and Stiles couldn’t help but cheer.

“Nice work,” Derek said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Stiles grinned widely, soaking in the rare praise. “So, what’s next?”

“Next, jump down,” Derek instructed calmly.

Stiles’ grin faltered. “Wait, jump?”

“Yes.”

“Jump…off the cliff?” Stiles asked, staring over the edge in disbelief.

“Yes, Stiles. Jump off of the cliff.”

“But…” Stiles hesitated, his brain short-circuiting as he looked down at the fifty-foot drop. “That’s over 50 feet.”

“Yes,” Derek confirmed, his tone unwavering. “And you can handle it.”

Stiles swallowed hard, nerves tingling in his gut. However, he trusted Derek, so he took a deep breath in and jumped, feeling the wind rush past him as he plummeted towards the ground.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Idk who hasn't done this yet, so I'm going to tag @hedwig221b @thotpuppy @rosieposiepuddingnpie and anyone else that wants to do it

[cecilyv]

wip wednesday

I'm making @liminalmemories21 write sports ball. Well, let's be fair -- I'm writing sports ball references and she's writing all the "wtf the are you talking about, none of this makes any sense," parts.

Buck/Tommy, 9-1-1

++

“So you found the picture.”

“When I was looking for the manual,” Buck agrees, “I didn’t know you played baseball. I played football-- “ 

Tommy snorts, “Of course you did.” 

And hey, “Hey!” 

Tommy squeezes his shoulders and steps back. “You kind of have a thing for running headlong into danger, Evan, I’m not sure if you noticed.” 

The end of his thought is muffled, like he’s talking with his shirt over his head, and Buck twists in his seat to watch as Tommy drops his shirt at his feet and starts popping the buttons on his pants, and “Oh, hey, no distracting me, you played baseball--” 

“I was drafted out of high school,” Tommy says, as he kicks off his pants and reaches for Buck’s hand, tugging him up, kissing him softly. “Enlisted in the army instead.” He shrugs and looks down the hallway, “Can I distract you now?” 

Turns out, the answer is definitely, yes. 

------

and:

Now that it’s all out there, Tommy really opens up about things Buck never heard him talk about before -- which mostly, it seems, is how much Tommy hates the Dodgers. But he puts his hatred aside for the good of the group -- he’s got a friend who made it to the show but is now on the training staff, one of the guys from his old Little League days. He sets Tommy up with a suite at Dodger stadium.

"Who," Eddie hisses as they bypass all the lines at the park heading for one of the boxes, "exactly does Tommy know?  Is he secretly a mob boss who moonlights at the LAFD?"

Buck does actually know the answer to this, and not because he'd wondered that once or twice too.  But letting Eddie dangle is more fun, so he just raises his eyebrows and shrugs.  "He knows a guy,” and Eddie sighs, and Buck tries to distract him, “Did you know Chavez Ravine used to be a neighborhood?” 

Ravi and Tommy bond about the unfairness of the Dodgers getting Shohei Ohtani for steal (like, a literal steal, Tommy spends 20 minutes trying to explain it to Buck, who just nods and backs away slowly) and decide that they’re going to the Angels game next time (heartbreak and bad seats be damned). None of them are actually Dodger fans, except Hen, who’s fully decked out in her blue and white and they try not to hold that against her. 

They all cheer when Station 118 is welcomed on the big scoreboard in the outfield. 

During the game, while everyone else mills around, grabbing food, gabbing, and halfheartedly cheering, Tommy sits with a clipboard, pencil and complicated sheet of paper that he dutifully fills out after every pitch. Buck sits down next to him, watches for a while and then Tommy quietly starts explaining the scorecard and all its abbreviations and rules. 

It does make the time go faster.

[14carrotghoul]

WIP Wednesday

Hellooooo it's been a minute bc words are hard!! Thank you to everyone that continues to tag me in these even as I become increasingly unresponsive lol I haven't been writing much and what I HAVE written lately is either quick and posted already or is a bit too spoiler-y/strange out of context. BUT here are new and sad words from one of my oldest WIPs: the AU where Alex gets plopped into a much sadder universe and tries to fix it

Henry frowns. “No one speaks to me like you do – even right now.”

“Like I said, I'm sorry –”

“You misunderstand. I like that you are belligerent. I'm coddled everywhere I go, and with you…” Henry steps back from the railing with a rough exhale and makes his way to a nearby bench. Alex follows, bouncing his leg at breakneck speed in the long minute that passes before Henry speaks again. “I imagine an entirely different life when I see you.”

He takes a gamble on a joke. “One where I'm antagonizing you on the regular?”

Henry licks his chapped lips. “Something like that.”

Alex feels unworthy of the intensity of Henry's gaze – a million different meanings in those melancholy eyes. He breaks the connection and looks to the sea that captured Henry's full attention earlier.

“Would it be easier?” Alex asks. “This other life where we're friends?”

Henry breathes out a small, heartbreaking laugh.

Many many thanks to @sherryvalli @cha-melodius @suseagull04 @thesleepyskipper @zwiazdziarka @blueeyedgrlwrites @caterpills @alasse9 @orchidscript for the tags over the last few weeks!!! ❤️❤️🫶🫶 consider this your tag back!!

[almostempty]

wip wednesday

thank you too @mermaidgirl30, @bitchesuntitled, @itwasntimethatdidit40, and @ace-turned-confused ahhhh

fuckboy joel pt 4 is coming along!!!:

Paris, Texas pt 2 is happening!!!, extra special thanks to @auteurdelabre and @magneticecstasy

my roll-a-trope Dave/snowed-in is also in the works

please, please, please, let me get what i want is in early development

Meet Ugly for the trope off is also happening:

(accidental adultery trope is happening, but not presentable yet)

uhhh wip thursday tags bc i'm late SORRY also sorry if you already did this, i'm catching up!:

@auteurdelabre @gothcsz @miss-oranje-disco-dancer @syd-djarin

[figthefruitfaeth]

wip wednesday

Rules

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

WIPs

two things

caller, you're on air

Snippet -- Two Things

Steve’s got a pretty boy in his arms. He’s not really sure how that happened. One minute he was making drinks—two screw drivers, mostly juice since he’s trying to get Robin to wind down—and the next he’s getting twisted around, hands instinctively going out to catch the body falling into him.  He blinks once, twice, then a third time has he recognizes the pretty boy as Eddie. Eddie and pretty in the same sentence. Not to mention pretty and boy. Fuck, maybe he does need glasses. Or a different drink.  He catches the moment Eddie recognizes him back, eyes going from distant to wide, a smile to match. “Steve! 

hi hi! finally feeling the fic bug biting again and figured this would be a good way to motivate me during work tomorrow, if my kind audience would do the honor of helping a fella out.

tagging my enduring loves @judasofsuburbia @kkpwnall @fragilecapric0rnn @cheatghost @snowangeldotmp3

@fastcardotmp3 @gideoncharov and anyone else i'm missing

[sendpseuds]

Wip Wednesday - Spirit Halloween

The Halloween decorations are going up and I don’t remember the last time I had something for wip Wednesday so you’re getting a long one

Enjoy 🖤

The clock on the wall sounds like a heartbeat.

The second hand pulls back and lurches forward, steady and measured and maddening.

One-two. One-two. One-two.

It's loud and irritating, but honestly, anything is better than listening to The Monster Mash for the millionth time tonight.

No one has set foot in this temporarily occupied warehouse in over an hour and Anakin is beyond ready to get the fuck out of here.

The closing checklist is almost complete— the changing rooms have been cleared of unwanted costumes, each cheap plastic garment put back in its package and out on display, the register has been counted, the floors have been swiffered, the door has been locked. All he has to do is shut down the animatronics, turn off the lights and—

"Jesus-fucking-Christ," Anakin barks when a knock at the door nearly startles him out of his skin, clutching his chest to feel the frantic onetwo onetwo onetwo of his own heart fast outpacing the clock's suddenly sluggish tempo.

It takes a moment to catch his breath, his pulse still thundering in his ears when he looks up to find a man wearing a dark suit and an apologetic expression.

Normally, Anakin would just ignore the guy — maybe shout, 'We're closed,' and point at his watchless wrist before rolling his eyes and returning to his end-of-night checklist — but when the man raises his hand to give an almost adorably embarrassed wave, Anakin finds himself unlocking the door before he can think twice.

"I'm terribly sorry," the stranger says before the door is even open, rushed and painfully polite, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

He sounds like he stepped out of some critically acclaimed period drama about dukes and duchesses, and while he's not wearing coattails or a top hat he definitely looks like he could be a lord or something.

"It's fine," Anakin chuckles, a strange nervous tickle in the back of his throat as he breathes in the cold night air, shifting his weight slightly and trying to remember why exactly he opened the door in the first place, "Look, man, I'm really sorry, but we're—"

"You're closed," the man says before he can finish, nodding his head in acknowledgment, standing up a straighter like he thinks he can match Anakin's height, "I realize that and I apologize, but I was hoping that you could—"

"Sorry, dude," Anakin interrupts, shaking his head and finding himself strangely reluctant when the man frowns, "Already shut down the registers, couldn't sell you anything even if I wanted to."

His eyes drop in disappointment, lips in a thin line, but when his brows raise, head tilted to one side, Anakin lets out a low sigh, realizing this man isn't ready to give up.

"Cash?"

And if that doesn't pique Anakin's interest.

"I have—" the man murmurs absently, pulling out a sleek leather wallet to leaf through the contents and Anakin can't help the way he perks up when he sees at least one, two, three bills with three digits in the corner, "Four— no, five hundred and one dollars."

Anakin needs to swallow a laugh because who the fuck carries around that much cash?

"Anything not spent on the costume is yours."

Then, he nearly chokes.

That's— that's—

Honestly, that's not even a month's rent, but to Anakin Skywalker, five hundred dollars is a lot of money.

It's a trip home to visit mom.

It's a nice birthday gift for Ahsoka.

It's breathing room.

It's one hell of a negotiation tactic.

"That desperate, huh?" Anakin manages to ask, his mind already running through exactly what he needs to do to not get caught.

"You have no idea," the stranger hums, leaning forward just enough that Anakin can see the way his smile wrinkles his eyes at the edges, "You're my only hope."

Anakin shivers.

"Five hundred dollars?" He confirms, swallowing back the wild feeling still racing down his spine.

"Five hundred and one," the man grins, and for the first time, Anakin realizes his eyes shine like silver.

"Alright," he breathes, something strange studdering his heart as he holds the door open, "Come on in."

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Arsonist Neil/Firefighter Andrew for wip wednesday please🥺

WIP Wednesday (9/18) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 235)

Neil isn't sure what the big deal is about Christmas. He never has. It's pretty though. He's been driving around since it got dark out, looking at the lights and decorations on peoples' houses. It’s amazing how brilliant the lights are. How, when they’re the right colors they almost look like flame. Neil jolts when his phone starts ringing. He answers it, puts it on speaker, and drops it back into the cup holder.

"How'd it go?" He asks, inching past a house whose roof has an inflatable Santa Claus dangling over the side of it. He supposes it's meant to be standing by the chimney, but it's clearly fallen. And it looks sort of like a Santa suicide.

"It went... Surprisingly well," Andrew answers with a sigh.

"You sound tired."

"Exhausted. I am not good at being around people. My social battery is dead. Need to recharge."

"So go to sleep," Neil says, eyeing a house with pretty white icicles glowing where they trickle down from the lip of the roof.

"Not that tired. Wanted to talk to you," Andrew says. Neil's heart jumps in his chest. After whatever sort of realization he had earlier, the thought of Andrew wanting him in any capacity has him lightheaded. Andrew yawns audibly. "What are you doing right now?"

Neil tells Andrew that he's touring the Christmas lights and Andrew scoffs.

"It's pretty. Really pretty. Almost makes me wish I had a house."

"Oh? Your hotel hasn't done up every empty space with merry, jolly goodness?"

"There's a tree in the lobby, next to the fireplace. Looks like something out of a movie. I sat there for a little while this evening, just watching the flames," Neil tells him. They were just as pretty as the lights on the tree, but he doesn't say so.

"That sounds like good enrichment for you."

"It was." Neil reaches an intersection and waits for a moment before turning left down another residential street. "Andrew, do you do Christmas?"

"Nah."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"I want to get you a Christmas present." Neil admits. Perhaps it's all the corny movies he's been watching recently, but it seems like it would be fun. Picking out a gift for someone you care about. Andrew's the only person on that list. Besides, Neil needs to see him up close and in person. He didn't know it until earlier, but he thinks...

Andrew scoffs. "You realize that means we would have to meet somewhere for you to give to me?"

"Yeah. I'm ready." Neil decides. He really is this time. He can handle it, as long as Andrew is there too.

[detta-pica]

Mei Mei, Juju Corp’s CFO, strolls in, followed closely by her ever-present personal assistant, Ui Ui, who is an actual child and therefore definitely an illegal hire. Probably he’s not an official employee at all. When Satoru first saw him and Mei interact, he decided it would be healthiest to mind his own business, though he did leave an anonymous tip with social services. Nanami, the COO, is right behind her, steps brisk, annoyance carved deeply into the lines of his face. Immediately, Satoru knows that Nanami knows that something is not right. It’s in the way Nanami pauses in the door, takes in Satoru’s closed laptop and noodle-like sprawl on the couch, and loosens his tie with the gravitas of someone preparing for their own execution. Satoru decides not to prolong his suffering. “I quit.” “Absolutely not,” Nanami says immediately. “You can’t stop me.” “We can sue you,” Mei informs him pleasantly, “if you mean what I think you mean, which is that you want to leave right now and never come back to this office.” Satoru grins. “That’s exactly right. I could file an anonymous report on my own negligence and get myself fired, if that’s what you prefer.” Nanami pulls out his phone and dials. “We need time to find a suitable replacement, you selfish--ah, Ieiri-san. I need you to talk Gojo down from quitting his job on the spot.” Satoru takes the phone when it’s thrust at him. “Shoko! I’m quitting!” “Congrats! And hey, I actually meant to call you anyway. Your great-uncle, the one who ran away from home and settled on a farm here, died last night. Do you know if anyone will be sad or can I handle it through the Gojo legal team?” “Huh. No, no one will be… Wait, there’s a farm?” Shoko exhales in that tell-tale way that means she’s smoking, even though she swore up and down that she’d quit the last time they talked. “It’s in terrible condition. Finding a buyer will take forever, I bet.” “I want it.” “You what?” “Shoko, I’m gonna live on that farm.” He can see it in his mind’s eye. A quaint little house with a porch swing, rustic decor, and a little fireplace to make it extra cosy in winter. There’s probably a barn. Maybe a chicken coop? He could get a cat, the kind that will roam on its own and leave dead rodents on his doormat. “Gojo, wait.” Shoko sounds distressed. “You know that--” He ends the call and beams at Mei and Nanami. “I just got great news. My great-uncle is dead!”

Listen. I've wanted to write a stsg Stardew Valley AU since before the March patch, but I got distracted with other things. I'm still distracted. This thing is nowhere near done, and it's not coming soon, but I didn't have anything better for WIP Wednesday.

(Current fic timeline is something like:

witch AU, with 5 stories to go in the series

a dark fairytale thing for Halloween

vampire AU sequel

Stardew Valley AU

fantasy AU no. 1

fantasy AU no. 2

The order could change. We'll see.)

[hebuiltfive]

WIP Wednesday

This is a small snippet from the prompt piece I'm still working on for @idontknowreallywhy (sorry it's taking so long to finish!) It kind of... spiralled out of control, and the build up to how we get to the actual prompt has taken me a lot longer to get to than I originally thought it would... Three chapters and almost 10,000 words worth in fact... but it's coming along. Slowly but surely. I promise!

---------------------------------------

“You have not been kidnapped.”

“No? Then what would you call it?”

Alan shuffled himself into a sitting position. He glanced curiously around the room, at the various other beds that lined the walls, all neatly made and crisply white, sterile. Then, he observed the machines that were stationed beside his bed. It appeared to be monitoring his vitals signs and made a soft whirring sound, reminding Alan of an old fashioned computer’s fan. Wires connected him to the machine from his chest with electrodes. Testing them, he tugged on the wires softly

“Please desist from interfering.”

Much to his own surprise, Alan did so. He dropped the wires from his grip and glanced up at the white ceiling. He wasn’t sure where the Disembodied Voice was coming from, or exactly who the voice was, and so he directed his next line of questioning to the pristine tiles above his head. “Where am I?”

“You are in MediBay—”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that one out already. I meant where am I? What is this place?”

The Voice did not reply. For a brief moment, the only sound echoing through the room was the machine to his left.

Alan rolled his eyes. “Fine, if you won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself.”