#a lot of it is going into my wip fic

[scalpelofshar]

I think it would be fun if Malus, Gerringothe and Thisobald are all siblings, oldest to youngest in that order

Just the comedy value alone of two brothers who are so very unalike, both in physicality and personality. About the only hobby they share is alchemy/chemistry

All three very driven and set in their own ways. They live in the same town, all down the street from each, yet only meet up a few times a year. The inevitable bickering whenever two or more are in the same place. Etc.

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[youchangedmedestiel]

Friend: What are you doing right now?

Me: I have a lot of projects.

Friend: Oh so cool, what are those? New job, new business, new home, new relationship?

Me: Ok, I have a lot of SPN/Destiel projects.

[lenle-g]

From Serious Moments by @mariashades

This year, it was just after two in the morning when Virgil rolled out of bed and went looking for Scott. He’d been roused from a restless sleep when, informed by some subconscious awareness or instinct, he’d sensed Scott leaving his room. Padding quietly through the dimly lit house on bare feet, Virgil found the eldest on the mezzanine floor above the lounge, his tall frame curled up and wearing the old university tee shirt and sweatpants he usually slept in. Scott didn’t look up as Virgil approached, his eyes fixed on his watch and scarcely daring to blink as the numbers ticked over, a large open bottle of something dark in his other hand. Not even Virgil crouching beside the chair got a reaction. “Scott?” Virgil asked carefully, already planning how to get the bottle off his eldest brother. This was not a coping mechanism that he wanted to chance becoming a habit. “...I’m officially older than Mom,” was the reply, and Virgil felt his gut twist at the utter heartbreak in the words.

[smoosie]

Your 3 part series of The South Downs Cottage are incredible!! I keep coming back to look at them, and my mind keeps spinning with all possible outcomes. It would be amazing if you were planning on part 4… is there still hope somewhere?? For the part 4, for THEM??? It’s devastating and breathtaking at the same time. Gorgeous work!

There you go !

nah jk

or am I ?

[uncleardyn]

(alan wake-gravity falls crossover) man i love that character. you know, the deeply paranoid author who made a pact with a dark entity that ultimately ended with him stranded in another dimension separated from his loved ones for years at a time? takes place in the pacific northwest? has twin imagery associated with him and a reoccurring specific piece of symbology related to the unfortunate situation they're in? doesn't ever explain the reasoning behind his actions and instead just kinda goes "bro trust me"? yeah he also wears an outer layer of clothing with elbow pads on it, that one.

[quatregats]

Hornblower truly the lab rat of all time my process for writing fics about him is just "okay what outcome do we want" and then spending ages carefully constructing a little maze to drop him in so that he is forced to end up there

[wispscribbles]

When I finish my ghoap Christmas oneshot that I started way back in start December, and have been struggling with since, then it’s over for you fools 🎅

[luvo27]

Sometimes i will get very in my head about my fics and my characterization but i comfort myself with the knowledge that even if it’s bad at least I’m adding to the population of fic centered around women’s angst

[siliconforbrains]

Okay, it's like 10pm on a work night and I haven't had any coffee today so my thoughts are a little scrambled BUT. I WAS THINKING.

(About In Stars and Time of course I'm always thinking about that game)

A couple of years ago, at the height of Steddie -my sister was big into it and recced me some fics okay- I read this fic about Steve dealing with time loops ("The one in which a time loop is fucking exhausting" by badpancake) and there was this specific detail about the epilogue that stuck with me.

It was the idea that, once the time loops were done and over with, people would slowly start to remember bits and pieces of what happened in earlier loops. After being fractured for so long across dozens of timelines and experiences and outcomes, time was finally healing, and broken shards of lost memories would find their way back into people's minds.

And that got me thinking about a post-game what-if scenario where the same happens to the gang as they travel through Vaugarde.

Like they still don't remember everything -just bits and pieces. Experiences so emotionally charged that they found a way to cross the sands of time and reach them again.

The question is, what would those memories be? The first answer that comes to mind is some of Siffrin's deaths, of course. I can't imagine watching your friend get pancake-d by a boulder would be pleasant, nor witnessing them turning their own dagger to themselves. Or offering him a slice of your favorite snack only for him to go into anaphylactic shock in front of your very eyes, for that matter!

But there would be other instances too, wouldn't they? Death is not the only thing that shook them to their core. What about their first death to the King? Or Bonnie's fate at the end of Act 3? What about basking in the blissful feeling of victory against the tormentor of your land only to turn to look at your friend and know something is very, very wrong?

What about fighting through the House with a party of 4 instead of 5, bloodied, confused, staring in the face of the King knowing you're about to die and wondering why your friend left you all when you needed them most?

I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this, but I've been rotating this concept in my head since this morning and thought I'd get it out on here so y'all can suffer with me tehee

[cerealboxlore]

WIP Game (Part 2)

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Thank you to @wolfsbanesparks for tagging me again! The last one was so fun, so I'm excited to do another one! :D

My word is: HEART

H: Here in front of him was a hand extending themselves to him, offering to help, in a genuine effort of kindness, and in return, the man slapped his son with his cane. (From my fic, "Billy's Middle School Survival Guide", where Billy's mysterious new guardian/cousin he's never heard of, threatens to change his life forever.)

E: "Ever consider a twelve-year-old is just better than you?" Freddy stated, as if this was a simple truth of the world that Dr. Sivana just couldn't see. (From my fic about the evil kid/teen villains of Fawcett City forming their own alliance against the Marvel Family.)

A: Anything else could have happened today, literally anything else, and he'd take it over being professionally paper cut by the glorified paper mache man hunting him down. Green Arrow started to regret the bet he made with the Captain, but if he lost here, he'd lose his pride, and there was no way he was getting bested by everyone else who participated in the bet! Not by Guy Gardner! (From my fic, "A Day In Your Shoes", where Captain Marvel bets some of his fellow JL members that they wouldn't be able to handle Fawcett City.)

R: Running away from a man playing the banjo intensely wasn't something the Green Lantern thought he'd ever do, but he apparently kept getting surprised by Fawcett. (From my fic, "A Day In Your Shoes", where Captain Marvel bets some of his fellow JL members that they wouldn't be able to handle Fawcett City.)

T: "There's no evidence to state that Peter Parker ISN'T the Green Goblin, and I'm here to tell everyone that this kid is hiding secrets none of us know about!" The former Daily Bugle journalist continued on with his tirade against the rising star photographer, in the complete belief of his theory that was just an inch away from the truth, had he not been so totally and stupidly wrong. (From my fic where Peter Parker has to defend himself from sudden accusations that claim him as the Green Goblin. My first Spider-Man fic! Yippee!!)

I wish I could have replied earlier but I got the due date of an assignment mixed up and had to rush it! This was so much fun! The creative sparks are firing up!

Ask me anything about these WIPs if y'all want, it's a good way to make sure I remember them!

Everyone else has been tagged by now I think, so I'm also leaving this free for anyone to jump in!

Your word is: SWORD

[xxnashiraxx]

Pre-WIP Wednesday

I'm slamming my fist down on my desk and gifting you all a snippet from the next chapter- I am not fucking around with this one, it's time for the yearning to begin. 💗

“Well!” She slaps his upper arm with enough force to make him jump, plastering a bright smile over her face. “What else are friends for?” She slips out from under him while he’s still surprised, gleefully prancing over to a patch of flowers when she spots them- bright white daisies, shining like salvation from beneath a scraggly tree. Her mama’s old wildflower book comes to mind like a saving grace, and for some reason, the section on flowers and their meanings floats back through her memories. “Here.” She scoops some up and presses them into his hands, earning another confused look. “What are these for?” He analyzes the petals as if they’ll speak up and she smiles, feeling her anxiety leech down into the earth. “They’re symbolic- and I’m really impressed that they’re growing here.” Her heart finally starts to slow back into a normal pace, fingers resting over the stems of the ones that he cradles in his palms. “They’re meant to convey friendship and trust when they’re given to another person.” She carefully closes his hands around them, the soft smile of nostalgia covering her mouth. “Stuff like that meant a lot to my parents- my first parents. And it means a lot to me, too. Even if it’s kind of silly.” He holds them up, closer to his face, before flashing her an oddly strained expression. He looks like he’s trying to make sense of her, and perhaps he is. She’d slammed the brakes and veered into a completely different direction than where he’d been taking them, but if she let him keep going she would have made a proper fool out of herself and that’s not a show she’d like to put on right now. Or ever. “Uh… thank you. Darling. I think.” She watches him lift a stem to his collar before tucking one of the flowers into the neckline. It looks pretty with his hair and she feels her cheeks flush again, moreover bashful that she’s considering him pretty in the first place. “Here,” He echoes her, stepping forward. She flushes harder, letting him tuck a stem behind her ear as he chases the wavy lock to her neck. His palm lingers over it for a moment, a vague longing passing over his eyes before he meets hers and pays her a charming smile. His hand falls back to his side, and her skin tingles beneath the collar of her armor, yearning for the contact, yet embarrassed for wanting it all the same. “Thanks,” She clears her throat, hearing their companions beginning to crest the ridge. Dread falls heavily over her mind as she meets his eyes, a rock sitting in her stomach. It’s too much to think about right now. But he doesn’t seem to notice, and she exhales the breath she’d been holding when they finally turn to meet them.  Everything’s… just fine.

Tagging my loves 💗 I miss you guys 🫂

@preciouslittlebhaalbae @verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @khywren @ladyduellist @elinorbard @justabiteofspite @roguishcat @pinkberrytea

[littledreamling]

I love the thought of Hob spending the 90s (1990s, that is) hooking up with every pale emo/goth/punk Dream lookalike he could find to deal with the fact that he got stood up

But consider: after the very first time he had sex with one of those men, all miles of pale skin and dark hair and blue eyes that were just slightly the wrong shade, Hob spends an hour in the shower trying to wash every trace of the encounter from his skin, from his mouth, from his bones. Because he had promised his Stranger that he would wait, even if it was a promise only he had heard. He had promised his Stranger that they were friends and that he didn’t need anything more than his Stranger’s presence. And here he was, seeking out people who look exactly like him, people who are also strangers, but will never be strangers in the way his Stranger is. In some small way, he has pushed for more, if only by association, and he immediately hates himself for it. Hates the way that he knows the name of the man in his bed and wishes he didn’t. Hates the way he can still hear the man’s choked-off gasps as he came down Hob’s throat and his voice wasn’t deep enough, wasn’t otherworldly enough; it was just a man’s voice and nothing more. Hates that the man didn’t call him Hob because Hob isn’t going by Hob this time around. Hates that he’s used an innocent person to project his own selfish and unwanted desires onto. He hates himself for pushing and for looking for distractions and most of all, for wanting

[babychosen]

i've been denying how i feel (you've been denying what you want)

the line between a work trip and a girls trip quickly blurs as amanda and courtney spend a weekend away word count: 1985

thank you @sage-lights for always believing in me

The few days of Buffer Festival felt like a lifetime to Courtney and Amanda. In the mornings they explored the city and its quaint cafes and picturesque parks, and then in the afternoon and evenings they got to dress up and hit the stage. It was a vacation, even if it wasn’t. Their work trip was becoming a girls trip as time passed and neither of them wanted to admit it.

The magnetic connection between the pair grew stronger as time passed. After they went out on stage during the screening on the first day of the festival, Amanda felt something shift. Courtney’s staring became almost too much to handle and Amanda began to worry the audience would catch onto the invisible tether that had the two of them roped together all night.

After the show and the meet and greet the first night, Amanda was filled with awe, and unexpectedly: passion. At first it felt friendly, like admiration, but it morphed into something Amanda knew she shouldn’t feel. She wanted to feel close to Courtney—needed to, even.

The car radio hummed lowly in the background of their late-night drive through downtown Toronto. Amanda’s eyes were closed for the most part, trying to block out the blinding street lights. With Courtney’s head resting on her shoulder, she was sure she could fall asleep if she let herself doze off.

Amanda came back to consciousness a little when she heard the volume of the radio turn up. She opened her eyes to peer at Kiana in the front seat reaching forward to turn the volume knob, saying something about how much she likes the song. Amanda immediately recognized it as ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ by the Arctic Monkeys. She was familiar with it, but not too familiar. She shut her eyes again, blocking out the lights and listening in.

I’ve dreamt about you nearly every night this week

She felt Courtney shift closer into her side—if getting closer was even possible. Amanda convinced herself it was just a pothole in the road that jostled them around.

Do I wanna know? If this feeling flows both ways?

Courtney placed a hand on top of Amanda’s knee, and Amanda knew there was no pothole that could make a person do that. She wished she had worn anything but a dress and pantyhose, because there was basically no barrier between the warmth of Courtney’s hand and the skin of Amanda’s knee. 

Amanda wasn’t one to pay attention to lyrics, but Courtney’s actions felt in sync with the words. Amanda tuned out the song once again, trying to focus her attention anywhere but on the hand on her leg and Courtney’s uncanny timing.

It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you

There was no room for doubting herself when Amanda felt Courtney move their hand inward on her thigh and squeeze lightly. Amanda inhaled shakingly, hoping the ride would come to an end soon for the sake of her sanity.

She tried not to dwell too much on their car ride, because it would only lead her to making assumptions that she shouldn’t (like letting herself believe Courtney reciprocated her desire for affection).

When they parted ways at their hotel Amanda could still feel the pull between them. She longed to be closer to Courtney and the temptation to walk down the hall and knock on Courtney’s door kept Amanda up all night. She convinced herself to stay put but still replayed the possibilities in her head over and over again until she fell asleep that night.

The second night went a little differently. It was tame…

“Why are you still carrying around one Timbit, Amanda? It’s probably cold and hard by now,” Courtney playfully prodded her.

“It’s a souvenir! Don’t judge me.” Amanda let out a firm huff and crossed her arms over her chest, the lone pastry rattling around in the box in her hand. “Besides, how else will I show people that I won the Great Debate?”

Courtney stared at the glaring sash across Amanda’s chest. “I don’t know, Master Debater… you tell me.” They reached across the elevator and ran a finger along the silky fabric of the sash. Their fingers brushed over Amanda’s stomach lightly and it sent a chill throughout her body. 

Amanda’s knee-jerk reaction was to pull away because she knew it was wrong, but the elevator door opened before her mind even had the time to process the touch.

Courtney pulled their hand away from Amanda and walked out into the hotel hallway as if they hadn’t just caused Amanda’s heart rate to quicken.

“You know, maybe you should keep that Timbit. Take it home, Angela might want it,” Courtney wondered, turning around to face Amanda as they walked backwards towards their hotel rooms. Amanda gave Courtney a toothy grin, because she knew damn well they were right.

Amanda stopped when she reached her room door, and Courtney walked a few steps further to their own.

They exchanged quiet goodnights and Amanda slid her keycard into the door, swiftly turning the handle to open it. Before she could fully step into her room, a voice stopped her: “Hey, we don’t have to check out until later in the morning tomorrow. Wanna watch a movie?”

She took a step back into the hallway and smiled at Courtney. “I thought you would never ask.” 

Courtney slipped their key card into the door, opened it, and then tossed the card at Amanda.

Amanda excused herself to her room to change into something more comfortable for the evening. She slipped into a comfy pair of sweatpants and a hoodie after removing her makeup, and exited her own room. She walked down the hall to Courtney’s, using the keycard they had given her to use to get in without having to knock. Just walking in felt… wrong, but they were close friends—just friends. Amanda pushed the door open to see Courtney already tucked under a blanket on the bed with their own hoodie on.

“Amandaaa,” Courtney drawled, reaching out her arms towards Amanda. “It’s cold. Get under the covers and never get up again.”

Amanda tiptoed to the bed, lifting up the blankets and sliding underneath them. It was already warm and cozy, and Amanda loved it 

“I didn’t realize there was such a tiny list of movies for us to pick from… so, it looks like we can either watch an old western, or a cheesy Hallmark holiday movie. Pick your poison,” Courtney laughed.

“At that point I’d almost rather watch something on one of our phones… I guess a Hallmark movie works. I mean, they can’t all be bad, right?” Amanda asked, wishing for the best.

… until it wasn’t. 

The second night was giving in to temptation. It was throwing caution to the wind because they were in a romantic city and the circumstances felt just right.

Amanda spent the entire movie realizing that her suspicions of Courtney sharing similar feelings towards her were not founded on nothing. 

It started with Courtney cuddling into Amanda’s side, keeping her arms and legs to herself. 

And then they draped a leg over Amanda’s body after a fit of laughter. 

And then an arm, which led to a hand snaking underneath Amanda’s hoodie. (Courtney claimed they were cold, as if the covers over top of them weren’t enough warmth. Amanda didn’t complain.)

Courtney roamed her hand all over Amanda’s torso to places it probably shouldn’t go, but Amanda couldn’t stop her when the heat at her core was ripping her resolve to shreds.

The movie ended and a silence fell over them. Amanda’s hand was on Courtney’s back, gripping lightly at their tank top as the pads of Courtney’s fingers traced the skin below Amanda’s breasts.

The air in the room was heady and suffocating. Amanda couldn’t tell if she was the only one breathing so heavily, but she didn’t care. She knew Courtney could feel the light buck of Amanda’s hips and the squirming under their touch that she just couldn’t quell—the complete, unrestrained desire that she had been feeling all night.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure, Amanda. You feel this, too, don’t you?” Courtney rasped, gesturing between them.

Amanda answered by sucking in her bottom lip and nodding. 

Hearing Courtney say she felt it too was transcendent.

The following morning didn’t feel right. It was a feeling Amanda couldn’t quite put her finger on.

They went for breakfast in the morning, took their coffees to-go and walked around a park for a couple of hours. They marvelled at the leaves changing colours and basked in the cool weather. The pair soaked up every last bit of the city that they could before they had to make their way to the airport and board a flight back to LA.

But the previous night was never brought up. Not at breakfast or at the park. Not in the airport or on the flight home. Not even back at the office, a week after returning.

So now, in the middle of their first shoot week back, Amanda’s beginning to crack under the pressure. She didn’t consider the fact that she would reach her limit—that telling herself to forget it ever happened would become too burdensome to handle.

They’re professionals, so Amanda assumed hiding the tension from their fellow cast members would be a breeze, but people caught on, and soon enough the chatter reached Amanda’s ears one lunch hour. Courtney was well within earshot too, so she knew that they heard it too. Amanda heard something along the lines of ‘Did something happen on their trip?’, though she knew it was with good intentions. She knew this cast was better than stooping low enough to gossip.

At the end of the day, she was determined to talk to Courtney and smooth things over. Apologize if she had to, but hopefully just settle the tension.

After a Smosh Mouth shoot, Amanda pulled her phone out of her back pocket to send a text to Courtney, but was greeted instead by a text from them.

Court 🌻 hey. meet me in the art dept? everyone’s left for the day already

It was short, but Amanda didn’t sense any hostility in the message. She wasn’t surprised to hear from Courtney first, considering how prompt both of them can be.

She made her way to the art department and found the doors almost fully shuttered, but the lights still on. Amanda easily pushed open the door and saw Courtney leaning over the workshop table, nervously fiddling with their thumbs.

“Hi,” Amanda said timidly. She pulled the sliding doors closed and paused in the doorway. “I-”

“I’m sorry, Amanda.” Courtney interrupted, turning around to face her. “I’ve been ignoring you and it’s unfair. I should have told you that I was processing things. Instead I pushed it away and I dealt with it on my own.”

Amanda nodded sympathetically, knowing all too well where they’re coming from. “You could have talked to me—I also could have talked to you,” she admitted.

“Yeah, well, unfortunately we’re both a little dumb.”

“Hey! No, we’re just… navigating uncharted territory. Shit’s hard, Court,” Amanda reasoned.

Courtney nodded with a frown still tugging at the corners of lips. Amanda noticed and opened her arms to welcome them into a hug. Courtney didn’t hesitate to practically fall into Amanda’s embrace.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything-”

“Well, what if I want it to mean something?” Courtney asked, her voice muffled by Amanda’s hair.

Amanda struggled not to let her giddiness show. “Then I-I guess it can mean something.”

Courtney pulled back from the hug. She looked up at Amanda and kept her arms wrapped around her waist. “What do we do about the rumours going around?”

“What they don’t know can’t hurt them.” Amanda smirked, eagerly pulling Courtney in for a kiss.

[headfullof-ideas]

In a bit of a writing funk, but still hyperfixated on my HTTYD/The Deep fanfic that I’ve been writing for the sole audience of myself, but have been recently thinking about actually posting the story to Ao3. But as I’m in a funk for the writing aspect of it, I’ve decided to actually get some drawing for it done, especially since I’ve made a bunch of OC’s to broaden the cast of the story itself. Most of them have names pulled from the books themselves, though most aren’t a thing like their book counterparts. I just needed names and the books had plenty. HOWEVER. I’ve been drawing, and decided to share a WIP of what I’m working on currently

It’s very clearly not done, but it should be by the end of the week.

[diazheartsbuckley]

📄 📄 📄

Hiya Rae 🫶🏻

- 📄

“You don’t get to use make a decision like that, Buck. Not without at least talking to me first” Eddie’s voice revebrates through Buck’s loft. The walls are bare but the fridge is covered in pictures of him and Eddie, him and Chris and the three of them when they went on a road trip to Niagara Falls.

The joy that had been beaming throughout the car as they approached the falls had been like nothing else and Eddie remembers the moment when Chris took Buck’s hand and led him towards the railing. It was also the first time that Chris had called Buck ‘dad’ since he and Eddie got together. Not even a week after the wedding, Chris had been up late, his head leaning on Buck’s shoulder as the three of them were watching a movie. And that’s when Chris had asked Buck to adopt him. He didn’t make a big fuss about it but the smile on Buck’s face could’ve lit up an entire room and he contained his excitement to a minimum, not wanting to embarrass a prepubescent boy who wanted another dad.

“Why? You’ve made plenty of decisions in your life that I had absolutely no say in!”

“This is different!”

“How, Eddie? How is this different?” Buck steps closer to his husband and he has to fight everything in his power to not kiss him. He barely even remembers the last time that they kissed. Or well, yes. It was when he came back from Germany, at the airport and it had been even been a peck on the lips because they were both about as angry as they were right now. “Tell me how it’s different!” His hand subconsciously grabs ahold at the front of Eddie’s blue LAFD t-shirt, tugging him closer.

He sees the look in Eddie’s eyes changing from anger to frustration to confusion and then to interest. Like the most natural thing in the world, Eddie shuffles closer to his husband, closing the space between them, feeling the heat of Buck’s fingertips making their way underneath his shirt. “Tell me how it’s different” Buck’s voice becomes a whisper right before Eddie leans in, gently connecting their lips in a way that feels endlessly right and fills the room with a very familiar feeling of relief, love and a hint of lust.

Make me write ✍🏻

Sharing is caring 🫶🏻

@tizniz @watchyourbuck @dangerpronebuddie

@daffi-990 @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck

@actuallyitsellie @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess

@jeeyuns @bilosan @steadfastsaturnsrings

@diazsdimples @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley

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@wikiangela @slightlyobsessedwitheverything 🩵