#WIP Wedneday

[thevikingwoman]

WIP Wednesday

i swear it's still wednesday here! tagged by @roguelioness and @lilas, thank you friends!

tagging forward to @galadrieljones @bearlytolerant @lilbittymonster @ilmhist and uh anyone else for wip whenever!

I decided to open up a half-finishes smut fic I started a long time ago, and add some words - i'd already written more than I thought? not sure where I want this to go, but testing out things for now. Suggestive / explicit beneath the cut

Tansui tucks himself away and leans forward to kiss her. Slower, but still intense, pressure and pleasure and the taste of herself on his tongue. She makes a small sound, and grabs his shoulder. She wants to hold him, or be held.

“Shhh,” he says, smirking, when they break apart. “Plenty of people about.”

“they’re you people. Your problem, right?”

He chuckles. “If you put it like that.”

“Wouldn’t mind going somewhere more private, though.”

“Oh? And here I thought you’ve gotten what you came for.”

She punches him lightly. “Your lovely company of course.”

[virtie333]

WIP Wednesday

He finally spoke, looking away from her and reaching for a pair of cargo pants hanging to his left. “You really want me to start sharing a life with my brothers?” he asked. “With you?” He glanced at her. “Not sure I’d survive sharing a flat with you for three days straight when it’s my turn to front.”

Layla hadn’t really thought that far ahead. She shrugged. “I can always stay with a friend during your days,” she said, thinking of Lagaro. She knew Jake didn’t really like her, but she really wanted to encourage him to follow through with a decision to leave Khonshu and start a new life openly with Marc and Steven.

Again, he stared at her, but this time his expression held disbelief. “You would do that?”

She met his gaze. “I would do anything in my power to make sure Marc and Steven are happy.”

He turned away from her again, fiddling with the clothing in his hands. Then he paused, took a deep breath, and dropped his head. “I’m planning on retiring from Khonshu’s service after this job, Manita,” he said, not looking at her.

[paula-in-dreamland]

WIP Wednesday

Another week, another tag game! Please share your last sentence; or, if you don’t have one, share a plot bunny or idea! (OR sketch for your artwork!)

Thank you @holy3cake :))))

So. Um. Yeah. Editing is going fantastic everyone. I have TOTALLY started and not spent the last week writing another 10k+ of a secret related project.

Anyways - Here's something from said project...

Aethelwold tempers the crowd, pulling at the collar of his shirt as he feigns joy through gritted teeth, “Well, this is a delightful surprise. You two must have just broken thousands of hearts across Panem.” A few shouts of agreement float to the stage,  “And here I thought you said there was nothing going on between you two.”

Tagging: any others who are interested cause it's late!

[strandnreyes]

wip wednesday

thanks @catanisspicy @heartstringsduet @paperstorm @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @reyesstrand !

I lied. I’ve still been poking around at the AIYWAMT sequel since sunday. if you haven’t read that and don’t want to know what the twist is, look away because this has spoilers

TK’s cheery demeanor that was present the whole way here starts to fizzle out as Carlos pulls into the parking lot of the church. He shifts in his seat once, and then twice, before rolling out his shoulders and stretching his neck to the side. 

Carlos tosses a glance in his direction as he parks the car. “You okay?”

“Huh? Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he brushes off. “I can’t believe Tommy’s getting married.”

Carlos lets him have the deflection for now. “I know.” He reaches over to squeeze TK’s hand. “First wedding we’ve been to since ours.” 

TK smiles and then shifts again. He looks uncomfortable and Carlos wants to really ask him what’s wrong, but then Marjan is pulling into the space next to them and TK is getting out of the car to greet her. He puts on a good show, acting like everything is fine as they head inside, but Carlos knows him. He gets more and more uncomfortable as they file into the pew next to Nancy. 

There’s quiet music playing and low chatter around them as they wait for the ceremony to start. The stained glass windows glisten, there are beautiful flowers scattered about, and everyone’s buzzing with happiness for the couple. Except for TK.

His foot bounces on the floor so violently that Carlos thinks everyone in their row must feel it and when Carlos looks at him, his jaw is clenched so tight that the muscle is straining. 

“TK?” Carlos asks with worry. He rests his arm on the back of the pew, placing his hand on TK’s tension filled shoulder. 

TK shakes his head once, staring straight ahead. “I’m fine.”

Carlos doesn't believe him in the slightest and he keeps his hand on TK, feeling helpless. TK’s clearly not feeling well, but he seems adamant on toughing it out. Another minute passes where his muscles twitch like he’s trying to hold back from something and then his eyes squeeze shut. 

“I think I need to go,” he says just loud enough for Carlos to hear.

Carlos frowns, worry spiking. “What?

“I can’t be in here,” he murmurs as he locks eyes with Carlos. When Carlos sees that TK’s jaw is clenched together in a way he knows means TK’s trying to keep his fangs concealed, it clicks.

tagging @lightningboltreader​ @welcometololaland​ @rmd-writes​ @basilsunrise if you have anything to share!

[jtl-fics]

FINALLY write what makes you happiest right now bc that makes me happy!!! a dealers choice please!!!!

WIP Wednesday - 10/4/23 (Closed) | Dealer's Choice: All Hallows' Day

Kevin narrows his eyes and knows immediately who the culprit is.

Neil Abram Josten that son of a bitch.

He goes back to the fridge and has to put blue berries into his oats and it's going to throw off his breakfast meal plans for the rest of the week if he doesn't go to the store today and replenish his supplies.

He eats his oats as he makes up a grocery list of what he'll need for his next week of meals.

< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >

[palfriendpatine66]

WIP Wednesday - Sithywan edition

Look, I don't actually know that I have it in me to write a plot heavy, multi chapter fic set in a galaxy far far away. This may or may not happen. All I know is that I have *ideas* about what would happen if Obi-Wan joined Dooku after Geonosis, and I had to write this intro to get it out of my head. Read more for the angsty intro below

Obi-Wan watched helplessly as Dooku’s crimson blade slashed through the air and made contact. The air filled with the scent of burning flesh and Obi-Wan was filled with horror as Anakin’s body, now short one limb, was tossed carelessly aside as though he were a rag doll. 

A wave of despair, of anguish, swept over him as the Count, the traitor, stepped forward to finish the task he had started, his blade raised against the last of his lineage.

He slowed his advance and cocked his head to the side as though tasting the pulse of anger that radiated through Obi-Wan at the thought. The pause gave them a moment of reprieve, nothing more, but it was a moment that changed everything.

Anakin stirred against Obi-Wan's side, a pained whisper of apology on his lips before he lost his battle to maintain consciousness against the pain from his wound. “I’m sorry, Master.” 

Dread turned to certainty. Obi-Wan couldn’t lose another to a Sith blade. 

He wouldn’t. 

He wouldn’t watch helplessly as his padawan was run through, just as his master had been. 

He wouldn’t cradle the boy he had promised his master to protect as his presence left his body to become one with the Force. 

No. He refused to do it. And he didn’t have to, he realized, awash with relief. 

There was always a choice. 

Obi-Wan's mind raced. It was a terrible choice, but one he had to take.

“Wait, Dooku!” he called out desperately.

The Count smirked, so sure that everything was going as he had planned. Obi-Wan would do whatever he had to do to let him think that. He had to.

“I see now, the power you have. So much more than I knew, then the Jedi taught me. Teach me. Like you taught Qui-Gon. Become my master as you were his. Show me all you have discovered of the ways of the Force. I would know it all.” 

One elegant eyebrow rose skeptically as the distant sound of ships reached their ears. There wouldn’t be more time to decide. 

“You would join me, padawan of my padawan? Submit to my teaching, become a learner once more?” 

It went against everything he was, but Obi-Wan knew he had to. 

For Anakin. 

For all the Jedi who died this day, senselessly, because of him. 

For all those who would fight in the war to come. 

If he could learn the enemy’s secrets while he learned from Dooku, he could end this war. If he could touch the dark side, but somehow stay in the light. If he could just -

He would do it.

He had to. 

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Yes.” 

“There will be time for discussion later,” the Count observed blandly, as though remarking on the weather and not his window of opportunity to escape capture and possible death. 

Obi-Wan had the strange sensation of being lifted and carried to the Count’s solar sailer with the Force, his injured arm and leg dangling uselessly, his head lolling back to the sight of Anakin’s still body splayed on the ground. 

He had stayed in the light for Anakin once before, after Naboo. That had only been a moment where he had brushed against the dark side, not a continual battle to keep it at bay, but he had. He would do it again, he vowed as they rose from the landing platform and the battle raging below grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared. 

He had to. He’d made his choice.

[distressednoise]

WIP wednesday

Back on my bullshit (sad brassian in under-described liminal spaces) and actually have a WIP on WIP wednesday for the first time in ::checks calendar:: we do not speak of it.

In which Cassian hits a snag on the way home from Mimban, but luckily Brasso has terrible taste in men.

The code sending the comm belongs to Pellan, a hook up from months ago; a Pre-mor flunkie on a stopover between outposts, half out of uniform when he met Brasso and keen to lose the rest.

The face when he opens it, though, is a stretched-out, scruffed-up version of - “Cassian?”

“Yes! I fucking told you.” This is to someone off screen, presumably Pellan, and in a voice several tones lower than Brasso expected. In profile, Cassian's face is sharper and grubbier than it first seemed, and framed by an embarrassing set of adolescent mutton chops that dream of one day becoming a beard. It'd been Brasso's situation, the last time they saw each other. Maarva has a holo of them from that time, and looking at himself in it makes Brasso feel old.

“Do you know this person?” Pellan asks, shouldering his way on screen.

He doesn't know Pellan that well. He can't tell where they are from the background of the holo: it's just their faces and a patch of suspiciously sterile patch of wall.

“He does! Brasso, you know me and you know how sick my mother is -”

“Stop talking.” Pellan's tone isn't mean enough to raise Brasso's hackles. It's the tone he remembers everyone taking around - fucking hell, Cassian - back when he was mouthy and undersized and keen to bite the underbelly of every bigger kid on the block. “Just. Sit down again. Brasso -” 

There's some shuffling and a floating shot of Pellan's jaw as he takes himself and his comm out of Cassian’s considerable range of interference. It has the same mutinous set Brasso remembers from the bar.

“We have a slight situation here, and I do not want it to end up as a full situation, because in full situations I fill out sixteen different scandocs and people with ‘sector’ in their job title learn my name. Your friend is trying to get through the corporate border on a military pass, which is legal but -” a tired grimace “- against company policy, so I'm supposed to tell him it's faulty and he has seven days to fix it, after which I can bust him for loitering if he doesn't find a new chip or falsifying access information if he does, and he'll go to Imperial custody and toward my arrest number, or he can lodge an appeal under the long term residency exemption, which will automatically be approved but he'll be on an undisclosed Imperial watchlist for five years and someone will have to file a report on his movements every forty five days, and that someone will not be me, but that someone will unlock a cross team performance incentive if they achieve a ten per cent uplift on watchlist detentions cycle on cycle, so good luck with that. And then of course you're a named associate of a detained watch listed individual, so you go on the list, and someone reports on you every forty five days, and you also count toward our detention uplift target for the quarter, so.” 

There's a pause for Brasso to react. When he doesn't, Pellan feels compelled to add, “That's bad.”

“Right.” It was almost definitely the wrong call to answer this comm before getting dressed. 

“Right! So I suggested maybe he'd had his scandocs stolen and I could issue him a temporary pass if he just had a few key details, but they were issued when he was in prison - I should not have heard that he was in prison, Brasso, that's 101 - and he's never seen them, so he doesn't know the most basic things -”

“His mother will have -”

“His mother is apparently deathly ill and cannot possibly get on a shuttle to bring him anything, which would be terrible if it were true. My sympathies to that woman, in potentia. However, because he is technically an unaccompanied minor for the next, uh, seventeen hours, I can notarise an individual known to the family to collect him and produce a copy of his stolen documents on her behalf. So this is me officially notarising you, and also letting you know that if you take seventeen hours to get here I'm going to strangle him.”

Brasso has several questions about an unaccompanied minor being on a military pass and that not being a flag unto itself, but at least he knows how old Cassian is now. “Where are you?”

“Gate B, so like, two moons from you? Hey, should have called more, sorry neighbour. But seriously, whatever operation you're running needs to tighten up because ‘prison’, pri-son, is an extremely automated red flag and if I had bothered to do any basic system maintenance in the last six months there would be a half dozen alerts on their way to Pre-Mor by now.”

Operation, Brasso mouths, dully. He's starting to think he and Pellan remember that night very differently.

[chicgeekgirl89]

WIP...Thursday?

Thanks to @thisbuildinghasfeelings, @carlos-in-glasses, @whatsintheboxmh, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @bonheur-cafe, @strandnreyes, and @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut for the tags!

Okay, it's barely even Thursday anymore...but I have finally written words after intending to write them all week, so they are yours to enjoy!

“Noooo!!!”  There’s a collective shout of protest from the entire group as Mateo snatches a mug full of handmade chocolate from Paul and returns smugly to his seat on Owen’s sofa. “I got it for you boo,” he says, smiling up at Nancy with such a lovesick expression that it prompts another groan from the group. “Cap that’s not fair! People shouldn’t be allowed to steal gifts for other people!” Marjan protests.  “You’re just mad because now Paul’s gonna steal your bath bombs!” Mateo tells her, looking not sorry in the least. “Yep,” Paul says, hopping up and plucking the bag of bath bombs from her lap. “Cap!” Marjan protests again, trying to pull it back and failing. “There is nothing in the rules that says you can’t steal a gift with the intention of giving it away once the game is complete,” Owen says calmly. “Is there anything that says how unfair it is that the couples get to take home two gifts?” Marjan grumbles, crossing her arms and sinking back into her chair petulantly.

[lingeringmirth]

wipbigbang2024 for WIP Wednesday!

Three sentences for wipbigbang2024 written, wrote and am sharing three sentences of cuddlebug.

-

Steve ends up cuddling with Edith all day, as the parents of the other babies in the nursery cuddle their own babies and he can focus on her, dote on her.

As he holds her he thinks about becoming a foster-parent, as he can’t think about having anyone else’s babies than his, at least for the immediate future, he had been rather unforgettable, after all, and he sees his face on the cover of magazines at the grocer’s and on TV.

Edith is an easy baby, cute as a button, absolutely adorable and not helping to derail his thought-processes, his pining.

[gaydryad]

3 sentences on setting swap please!!

you get four! congrats?

Still fuming silently Delta had cut through the dark back home, thinking morosely on the best course of action before at last tossing off her slippers in frustration and collapsing back against her bed. It was of no use going to see Zeta then; evening was falling over the island and her sister would likely be either asleep or temperamental at the disturbance. Delta closed her eyes; tried to stymy the anger in her heart.

decided to give up temporarily on the scene I was writing and start a new one. this is the start of the new scene

[kalira]

WIP Wednesday Sentences

From my August 21st post here, for @aparticularbandit and @wizisbored - I have added sentences to my [redacted] project and here are more for Old Habits!

Mizuki trailed her fingers over the silent keys and once more hearing the haunting melody - the haunted voice - in her mind. As though she could, so easily; as though there were any other songs. Her lips twitched and she shook her head slightly; that was pure silliness. Of course there were, Mizuki knew many. But when her mind was quiet, her heart calm, and she sought the piano, it was still this song, and Mizuki imagined it always would be. Not that Mizuki held any desire to leave it behind, for all the haunting melancholy it breathed, carried from another life.

[formosusiniquis]

Can I please request some cake but longer for WIP Wednesday?

Here you go!

WIP Wednesday | Make Me Write

“Sorry Sweetheart. I know I said I wasn't gonna be late but Mike…” There just inside the door is the Freak. Undeniable even with his head down as he digs through his shoulder bag. From the riot of poorly maintained tangles that still hang around his shoulders to the expanded mess of tacky ink on his arms. The only thing that’s changed is the age in his face and the band on his shirt.

[heartstringsduet]

is it the creeping darkness of the approaching fall or why so many of our snippets so angsty?

[virtie333]

Thank you! This little snippet got more attention than my stuff normally does here on Tumblr! Thank you for the mental boost!

WIP Wednesday

Finished another chapter last night. I don't usually write late at night, but yesterday was a weird day, and it just worked. I'm one, maybe two, chapters from the end on this one. I am having an amazing time writing Jake (he's pretty much a blank page, really), and I hope others enjoy him as much as I do!

Layla found herself examining Jake as he watched the people around him, his behavior more like a bodyguard than a simple driver. She wondered what he would do if his clients started getting harassed. His entire countenance was so different from his alters. The way he moved, the way he spoke, the inflection of his voice. They were indeed three different people in one body, and it was still amazing to Layla that it was even possible.

He glanced at her, his expression turning bemused. “What?” he asked, a quirk appearing at the corner of his mouth.

She was sitting with her elbow on the table, her chin resting on her hand. She smiled and shrugged. “I’m just comparing you to your brothers,” she told him honestly.

“And finding me lacking?” he asked. His tone was light, as was his expression, but his eyes were serious.

Layla drew back. “Why would you say that?”

His shoulder moved up an inch as he looked away from her. “They have lives. More experiences than I have. Even if a lot of Steven’s memories are made up.” I paused. “I have… violence.”

Layla sat back in her chair. “I remember,” she said softly, thinking back to Cairo, watching him dressed as Moon Knight brutally dispatch several of Harrow’s men, eventually using Ammit’s own staff to subdue Harrow. She distinctly remembered him glancing at her where she had been pinned to a vehicle, stopping before the ax head in his hand had crushed through Harrow’s skull.

And then he had been Marc, stunned and confused. But alive.

[hashileio]

trying something different with his tentes :3c

[jtl-fics]

If u happen to have anything on my boy ichirou (math nerd au) for wip Wednesday

WIP Wednesday (Closed) | Math Nerd AU

Andrew feels like he should be surprised to find Ichirou Moriyama standing in his dorm room but considering the number of suspicious men he'd seen around campus it wasn't that shocking.

"I was sure it was you." Ichirou says and Andrew tilts his head but doesn't say anything. "You were the first and only favor that Neil asked for." he says.

"What do you mean?" Andrew can't help but ask.

"Drake." Ichirou says and Andrew stiffens and then his shoulders lose a bit of tension he hadn't realized he was carrying. "He did the final blow himself of course, I wanted leverage at the time and he seemed more than fine with it." Ichirou says as he inspects one of Nicky's more...eccentric pride flags.