#but I really had to get these out of my wips

[tiredsmashbros]

SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE

oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.

starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!

here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!

jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!

currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.

and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!

CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!

oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away

now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...

if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]

ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd

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thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...

[suzukiblu]

Man, does Clark panic adopting not count as kon-napping(+ match-napping)?

Oh well, I suppose I won't request anything for WIP Wednesday. Have fun with everyone's prompts. :]

-MBT

I mean it definitely does imo, but I ruled out a bunch of WIP options that technically count as Kon-napping for one reason or another, 'cuz keeping the list to five options is just way easier for me. Keeping open five documents to jump around is just way kinder on the ol' laptop, y'know? Though for you, fren, since you have been an excellent source of inspo/motivation in the past, I will totally give you some panic-adoption I already had written and just hadn't posted yet, lol. 💛

(( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I didn’t call ahead, so–oh, damn, how did I forget to call, it’s practically lunchtime,” Superman mutters under his own breath. Match stares blankly at him. So does Thirteen, but Match can’t even bring himself to be irritated about it, because it’s the only possible logical reaction to be having right now. Or just ever, possibly, in regards to Superman. 

“Uh,” Thirteen says, shifting uncomfortably in the air and still half-behind Match, annoyingly but unsurprisingly. “Like, we could just . . . do this some other time, maybe, we don’t need to, y’know . . . bug ‘em or whatever. Like, we don’t need to do, uh . . . whatever you’re doing all at once.” 

Superman once again gets that strange look that Match would call “pained” on anyone else’s face, then just–sighs, and shakes his head. 

“I should’ve done it already,” Superman says, his voice just barely tight. “For both of you.” 

“I mean–we literally don’t even know what you are doing, man,” Thirteen says, looking frustrated and uncertain. “Like, you said you didn’t want us to go back to Cadmus or the Agenda but like, then you said we should go home even though we were already at the Fortress, and then you brought us all the way out here to your–to, uh–you know, and–” 

“To my parents’ house,” Superman says. 

. . . Match actually should just take Thirteen and go to Cadmus right now. Superman is clearly an irresponsible idiot of an owner, if he’s going to keep telling him these things. 

Really, the only thing Superman’s done so far as his owner is steal him and also dress him up in a little outfit, from a certain point of view, Match realizes, and tries not to grimace at the thought of being, effectively, another damn dog. 

Which–he is that, more or less. Obviously. He’s–a possession. A weapon. A thing. Not–

Just–the same treatment as the dog, short of getting his damn ears scratched. 

It’s . . . 

Are you fucking STUPID? he wants to ask instead of finishing that thought, but that wouldn’t be any smarter–or safer–to do. 

“Uh,” Thirteen says, and swallows uncomfortably. “Uh–yeah. That.”

[kiwiana-writes]

hi MJ!! for the sleepover weekend asks, i'd love some fluffy and a few hurt/comfort firstprince fic recs! and and for fmk: bea, june and nora from rwrb! okay thats it byebye ~saturday xoxo

Forgive me: I sat on this one for so long it's now officially NEXT weekend, at least in my part of the planet, so I guess answering this is also me kicking off this weekend's slumber party 😅

I'm doing FMK first, even though I need you to know this is CRUEL. Fuck Nora, marry Bea, kill June, but I am absolutely relying on Nora's smarts/Pez's cash to get her out of this situation.

Anyway:

FLUFFY FIRSTPRINCE FIC RECS

take me back to San Francisco by @getmehighonmagic: this has a sequel languishing in my emails for that magical future day when I'm capable of reading again but I have no doubt it'll be just as incredible as part one, which is FUCKING DIVINE. Also I just... really wanna go to San Francisco.

You love me! You love me? by anarchyat4am: How often I shoehorn a rec for this fic wherever it might be even remotely applicable is sort of a running joke by this point but I stand by it actually. This is a massive comfort fic for my trans ass.

Confidential Memorandum by @sherryvalli: this fic is so stinkin' cute I feel like I need to book a dental appointment every time I read it.

Dick, Dick, Dick (You Down) by @everwitch-magiks: do I feel a deep abiding kinship with Henry's anxiety being read as rudeness in this fic? Maybe, shut up.

Getting Clinical by @cha-melodius: Yes I'm biased because this was a gift for me, no I don't care, IT'S A FUCKING DELIGHT.

In His Wildest Dreams by @myheartalivewrites: This fic is a fucking fluffy blanket of joy.

If at first you don't succeed by @clottedcreamfudge: I am lowkey obsessed with CCF second first impressions and Alex being blissfully unaware until he's not.

HURT/COMFORT FIRSTPRINCE FIC RECS

a shard or two by @aeithalian: you don't read WIPs? I don't care. Read this one. I beg of you. Hands down the most criminally underrated fic in this entire fandom in my opinion. It is so, SO good. I reread it all the time in between chapters, I am hoping DESPERATELY the author will let me ficbind it when it's done, and I will scream about it from the fucking ROOFTOPS to convince y'all to read it. No cliffhangers, no relationship drama, just the meatiest post-canon deliciousness.

(but i knew you) baby, kiss it better by saintsnames: age gap my beloved, sex bloopers my beloved, two idiots in love MY BELOVED.

i ask you how you’re doing (and i let you lie) and even though we know it isn't true by @matherines: double-reccing even though these can be read separately because HAHA OUCH MY HEART. Both of these fics just fucking flayed me alive????

you were more than just a short time by @hypnostheory: DAVID 😭😭😭😭😭😭 mind the living fuck out of the tags but FUCK this is good. Heartbreaking, but good.

Downburst by @cricketnationrise had me clutching my face from start to finish I swear to god.

So I Will Weather the Storm by @sparklepocalypse: while reading this, picture me just screaming ALEX YOU FUCKING DUMBASS at my computer the entire time and it'll be like you were right here with me the first time I read it!

The Domestication of Household Spiders by @cultofsappho: if Spider-Man Alex has no fans I am dead etc etc. This is so fucking SOFT from start to finish.

[Sleepover weekend!]

[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."

[deedala]

wip wednesday

thanks for tagging me @wehangout and @spookygingerr to share a bit of a wip. also yes hi hello i....have a wip. we're keeping our expectations in hell <3

Mickey blinks at him and a couple beats pass by. “...the fuck are you walkin in the road for?” Ian huffs a little laugh and shrugs. “I gotta go into town for...uhm, food and soap and shit. All I had left in my backpack was a granola bar this morning. I didn’t bring like…well, anything with me.” he knows he’s on the verge of full on rambling but suddenly he’s terrified that he’s just implied that he hasn’t practiced any basic hygiene. “Except for my toothbrush of course!” Nailed it. He lifts his phone and weakly gestures at the directions on the screen as though this explanation needed a fucking visual aid.  Mickey’s squinting is intensifying and the amusement seems to be fading away.  Ian presses his lips together to stop himself from trying to explain further. Really getting out ahead of those can’t play it cool allegations. Alas, Mickey clearly isn’t convinced. “Okay… but the fuck are you tryin’ to walk there for?” he flings his arm the rest of the way out the window now so he can gesture aggressively with his free hand. “It’s like 90 degrees out, man, supermarket’s like four miles down the road.”  “Oh...” Ian nods his understanding as a bead of sweat rudely rolls into one of his eyes. “Yah well… guess my car is sort of in it’s lawn ornament era.” 

i have no clue who hasn't done this yet soooo maybeeee @mmmichyyy @catgrassplantdad @palepinkgoat @thepupperino @jrooc if you wanna share?? 💖

[al-the-remix]

WIP Wednesday

Buck finds the box when he’s helping Tommy pack up his stuff, slouched pathetically in the back corner of the closet in Tommy’s spare room, caked in dust and buried under a pair of old motocross boots. 

It took them less than a weekend to divide the contents of Buck’s loft into a neat truckload of tightly packed boxes. Tommy’s house is a whole different story. Junk collects in the bungalow the same way cobwebs shroud barn rafters; teetering stacks of brittle yellowed paperbacks cover low tables, rolling metal drawers filled with odd tools and bits of machinery are shoved into corners at a slant, and other assorted knick-knacks cake every other spare surface in the house. 

Actually, just about everything Tommy owns looks dated by at least a decade. Buck wouldn’t be surprised if he found something from the precambrian era fossilized beneath Tommy’s hoard of physical media. There are magazines and DVDs and–how do people even listen to CDs anymore? Buck thinks as he pushes another pile to the side to get at the box. 

Buck’s elbow deep in beige fabric before he realizes what he’s stumbled across. Pulling Tommy’s old fatigues into his lap, he runs his fingers over the shallow ridges of Kinard embroidered across the chest tape. The fabric is soft with wear but crisply pressed, Buck kneads it between his fingers, finding the inconsistencies where it has been patched and stitched. 

He digs a little deeper. There are two pairs of boots stuffed in there as well, a tan pair that looks like they have seen better days, and a black leather pair that might have been shiny with polish once but has since dulled from lack of attention. 

Buck rubs his thumb over the hard toe of one of the leather boots. It’s clear Tommy hasn’t touched this stuff in a while. He wonders just how much Tommy held onto over the years; if the rest of his house is any indication, most of it.

“What you got there?”

Tommy’s leaning against the doorway, a smile playing at the edges of his lips as he watches Buck poke through his personal belongings. He knows he’s just doing what he’s been asked, but he still feels like he’s been caught red handed digging through Tommy’s old military stuff. 

“Ah, you found the digies,” Tommy says, coming to hover at Buck’s elbow. Up close he looks pleasantly flushed and serene like he could spend all day moving around boxes and never get fed up with it. 

“Do you ever wear these?” Buck holds up the uniform he’s been swaddling in his lap. Aiming for curious but not too curious. 

Tommy frowns. “Not really. If there’s something ceremonial going on I’ve got my blues, but it’s been a long time since I got invited to something like that.” He reaches down and pulls one of the leather boots out of the box. “Oh, cool, my jump boots. I’d forgotten where I put these.”

No kidding, Buck thinks, eyeing the various sports equipment unceremoniously piled on the floor of the closet. If he'd ever been worried that digging through two decades worth of Tommy’s baggage–both emotionally and literally–would dull Buck’s interest in him, he shouldn’t have been. If anything, getting a chance to inspect Tommy's junk (ha) fanned the tinder of his curiosity till the point of ignition.

Tommy has both jump boots in his hands now, eyeing the dullness of them regretfully. “Twenty-five-year-old me would have been so embarrassed, I used to love these things.”

“How’d they end up in the closet then–so to speak?” 

Tommy snorts and drops them back into the box, causing a small eruption of dust to tickle Buck’s nose. He barely avoids sneezing.

“Sorry–I don’t know, I think I just packed all this stuff away when I got the job at the 118 and the house and forgot about it. Tried to make a clean break, you know?”

Not really. Buck had sort of bulldozed through his twenties with a brick on the gas. No stopping. No slowing down. Whatever snagged and held got dragged along in the turbulence of his life as long as it could cope: people, jobs, places, they all blurred into one and other in an unending train of flashes of light and color. 

“I see why you liked them,” Buck says, switching tangents. “They’re pretty cool. Very punk rock.”

He flashes Tommy a grin and the sign of the horns, pleased when Tommy rolls his eyes, amusement clear in every line and upwards curve of his face. Buck can smell the sweet powdery edge of his deodorant and see the sweat blotting at his temples right where he’s started to go gray. He weighs the pros and cons of yanking Tommy down by his belt and wasting fifteen minutes making out on the floor between islands of miscellanea.   

“Don’t even joke, the only punk rock going on in the Idaho panhandle was of the Boots & Braces variety.” Buck pulls a face and Tommy continues. “They’re more of an honorary thing anyway, you get ‘em after you pass your paratrooper training.”  Tommy nudges the box with his toe. “They’re not exactly practical.”

“They could use some buffing up,” Buck admits, taking a boot in hand, inspecting the scuffed heel. 

“Don’t start,” Tommy huffs. “You’re going to give me war flashbacks. Literally.” Buck stares shamelessly as he pulls the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow, making hot, implicit eye contact when Tommy drops it again.

“None of that, we’re on a tight schedule.” Tommy sticks a finger in his face like he’s warding off Buck and his nefarious intentions. 

“Fair enough, where do you want them, Sir?” He quips, all tongue and cheek.

Tommy shakes his head in defeat, grabbing a random collection of items from the floor before making his retreat. The nape of his neck is flush pink. “You can stick all that stuff in the keep pile.”

Buck salutes his back. He figured that would be the answer.

[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.

[lokimobius]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the lovely @elodiah <3

I'm still working on my next door neighbours au. Currently it's looking like it might be two chapters, but we'll see! I don't think I'll be posting it until it's completely written though.

I may or may not have written Mobius as a bit of a disaster gay in this part of the fic. He only has a "tiny crush" on his neighbour; it's nothing serious, of course... Don't judge him!!!!! He's a repressed university professor. His life doesn't get much more exciting than this!

His eyes widened when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His hair was tousled messily at the back of his head from where he’d been lying on his sofa all morning. A shiver ran down his spine. Had he really answered the door like this? He pulled at it nervously, trying to make it more presentable, which only made it look strangely neat. “Damn it!” He grumbled under his breath. “You got a serious case of helmet head, Mobius.” He ran both hands through his hair and tousled it, this time going for a more deliberate dishevelled look. After having the same hairstyle for most of his life, his friends had convinced him to try growing his hair out. They promised him that it would look good, and they were right. It was a good look for him. However, he still had no idea how to style it. Normally, the way he looked wouldn't bother him, but he was about to have the most put together person he'd ever seen in his apartment. He gave his hair a final smoothing over, silently cursing himself for not making more of an effort with his appearance in the first place. In his defence, he hadn’t been expecting guests today, let alone Loki. A loud knock at the front door interrupted his preening, and he jumped, his heart thudding in his chest. “Shit!” He bared his teeth at his reflection quickly. Did he have anything in them? Did his moustache look okay? Were his glasses on straight? Oh god, he was wearing his glasses. No one was supposed to see him in these. He took them off and threw them onto his sofa as he raced past it to unlock the door. Loki stood outside in his slippers and robe, holding a fluffy green towel and what looked like a cosmetic pouch in his arms.

No pressure tags to: @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @kcscribbler @in-my-loki-feels @thosegayoldmen

@silentxsymphony @devilbearingtrouble @andthekitchensinkao3

[woozivrse]

um hi here are little bits of wips :3 all of them are like, kinda abandoned rn but i'm trying!!

popular! seungkwan x introvert! reader

digging through his bag, seungkwan pulled out a jacket for you. “here, wear it. if you're going to be here to keep me company then you will do it warm!”

“but won’t you be cold once you’re out of practice?” you held the jacket in your hands.

how svt cuddle, hoshi!

hoshi loves loves LOVES nuzzling into you. doesn't matter where, the neck? nuzzle. the top of the head? nuzzle. he also likes laying on top of you, he treats you as a personal pillow at all times, though it's usually just his head on you so he doesn't hurt you.

summer camp! (i don't actually have any ideas for this, so send some in if you have any!) it's all of svt but im considering making it a series where all the boys have an individual fic?

you looked fondly on the clearing, recalling so many memories from your childhood. soon, the campers from the city would be pouring into the field, excited–or maybe, just a little peeved that they had to be separated from their family and friends– for the start of the summer.

wonwoo x implied aromantic! reader! (this is pretty self indulgent tbh. also, not all aromantic ppl never end up in relationships! it's a spectrum)

books and other hobbies occupied your attention. it's not like you never noticed cute people, you had eyes of course, but you chalked it up to just aesthetic attraction and not romantic. and when your college literature class first began, you assumed it was the same thing. jeon wonwoo was, objectively, really cute.

girl group stan! seungkwan x boy group stan! reader— smau! (heavily HEAVILY wip. don't expect this anytime soon)

reader: “WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT [IDOL] HUH???”

seungkwan: “JIHYOS BETTER. JEALOUSY IS A DISEASE GET BETTER SOON😘”

legally blonde au! elle! dk x emmett! reader, based more on the musical than the movie!

“sorry! i- that came out wrong. i don't mean to judge but, for a girl? who doesn't even like you?”

“it's love!” he argued. “i love her and she loves me,”

“...you sound insane, you know,”

“i know…” he sighed, holding his head in his hands, “just, we dated for years before this, we were together since senior year of high school!”

college au! both reader and dk are leads of the same musical! dk x reader (yes this is also legally blonde based PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE I WAS IN A PHASE) (also, HEAVYYYY WIP. NOT CURRENTLY BEING WORKED ON)

soulmate au! no one rn actually x reader! (this is the final boss of all my wips i started this back in october of last year so we'll find out if it makes it out of the trenches)

he grabbed your wrist, your compasses calming down at the touch.

“found you,” he grinned, eyes bright and breathless.

and that's it! feel free to come talk to me about your favs, maybe they'll make it out of the trenches<3

[dizzymisslizzie]

Welp, just had my heart wrecked by the amazing writer and purveyor of angst @aforgottennymph by her latest chapter of The Brightest Star. (Please check it out if you're not already, it's sooooo good!)

In honor of crying at work, I'm adding this to one of my WIPs... Or maybe this just became a WIP... I don't know... I'm out of tissues.

Take care of yourselves!

Alex is falling. The pit is an endless darkness. He can feel the memories more than see them in his mind. Being soaked in a cold palace while the man he loves tells him to leave. He’s back at home and the bottle of Makers being wrenched from his stubborn grasp by June and Nora, then eventually Cash when they couldn’t get it from him. The gaping hole in his abdomen that claws at his throat every moment of every day. Fighting constantly to push it down and keep the tears from falling all the time. The man he’d thought would catch him, would love him and keep him safe, that would let him rest, had let him fall. Henry had let him fall into the pit, alone. Alex feels like a fool for believing that it would turn out different. He feels like an idiot for trusting the promise of Henry’s touch and the look in his eyes over what his mouth told Alex from the very beginning. “I can’t have you falling in love with me.” Alex was so stupid. He was always so wrong about people. Raf… Henry… even his dad. He trusted too easily and he was a fucking idiot for it.  His chest starts to hurt from the pain of it all. He takes deep breaths and tells himself that he’ll get through this. I’ll never love anyone like that again… but that’s a good thing… crushing heartaches happen in your twenties, right? Alex had asked for this, really. He’d loved to hard and too big and too much, which was everything that people didn’t like about him. So there. He doesn’t have to worry about this ever happening again. He’ll be ok one day. This will be a memory of pain instead of all consuming pain like it is now. Then he can move on and be less... more tolerable… He’ll try to be a better judge of people… figure out what they want from him is before he trusts again. He’ll learn from this. 

Open tag!

@miss-minnelli @tailsbeth @caterpills

[fountainpenguin]

I'm sorry if I'm annoying you. But I can't get over you City Lights AU Dale. The man looks like he has all the issues and is hanging on by the thinnest thread. One more problem and he will just fully collapse.

😂 I'm eating your asks like sandwich.

^ He is overworking himself in a desperate attempt to make peace with the fact that he never got to hear his late father say "You did everything I ever asked without complaint; you are such a good son and you've made me so proud."

Push him near a goalpost and he'll panic and kick it across the room. We don't know how to process feelings of achievement and pride in this family. Those are Bad Emotions that will get the company steamrolled by competitors... You could lose everything... Is that how you want to be remembered?

I've been waffling on whether to share this WIP or withhold it for in-the-moment drama, but just for you... a treat.

His back ached from hunching; his feet stung from dirt. Vicky didn’t leave me down there; she always came back. “Do you know what that means?” Without waiting for an answer, Dale grabbed Timmy’s shoulder with one hand and pumped his fist with the other. “I’m still her bestie! She didn’t replace me!” “She locked you in a cellar for 7 years,” Timmy started, but Dale cut him off by slamming the bathroom door. And he laughed at nothing, clutching fingers in his hair, because… He really had to talk to her. They could clear this whole mess up! Now, let’s get one thing laid out crystal-flat. Dale knew Vicky had locked him up down in Dimmsdale’s tunnels, sure. He wasn’t stupid. But she wouldn’t have done that at all if he hadn’t threatened to tell untrustworthy adults about The Accident that kicked the lemonade business off in the first place, and it wasn’t her fault he’d been a disloyal friend. He really put her in a bad position there- That can’t be denied. Dale dragged his hands down his face (and dragged his butt down the door) until he thumped on freeze-dried tile. His toes gripped the bathmat. He wrapped his arms around his knees. I’m sorry. I’m sorry… I'll be better. I'm ready to listen now.

Prompt #96 - "You Deserve It"

My terrible headcanon is that if it took 7 years for Dale to work up the courage to open a trapdoor and crawl out, and he didn't file charges severe enough to stop Vicky from babysitting Timmy, he is not the kind of person who would stop hanging out with her SDLFKJ.

Also, here's a sketch I made for this post. I opted not to post it there, but I think it captures My Vision really well:

Toxic ex-BFFs with a very weird dynamic post-lemon pit torture, gossip buddies, and a secret 3rd thing... silly little guys.

He hates the fighting, but he craves the structure... Being nice to Vicky is the safe option... It's such big "Get real, Dale- No one will ever want to deal with you and your problems; I'm the only one who can put up with your baggage" vibes...

He can tolerate the bruises; he can make little exceptions; friends forgive each other and not forgiving her would mean throwing away the 3.5 years they had before the Real Trouble Began... Do u understand...

I've been brainstorming another WIP of Dale fantasizing about terrible things he wants to do to Vicky, but I'm not sure I'll actually write that one because it's pretty dark SLKDFJ

Listen, I just want Dale to slam Vicky against a wall and it turns out Mark was shapeshifted as her handbag and OH, HE PROTEC-

It's extremely important to me that Dale is nice and sympathetic enough that Dev believes if he can just pry his dad away from business, they can play and have fun. Dale being "sweet and engaging and loving" around his wife and during the holidays has done a NUMBER on Dev's psyche.

[justabiteofspite]

WIP Wednesday!

Tagged by @xxnashiraxx, thanks! Here, take another non-spoilery flashback of these two shortly after meeting on the beach. (I don't know if half of these are staying in, but the ones that aren't are probably going to be turned into one shots, so might as well share!)

“What exactly were you doing before this that you have this many weapons on you?” Astarion asked, carefully taking the shortsword from the tiefling. His fingers brushed against hers briefly. Soft. Almost like velvet. “Oh, I stole all of these off the ship.” She crossed her arms, standing back to watch him, “I'd ask if you've seen a gith warrior run this way, but if you had, you'd definitely be dead.” Astarion took a few practice swings with the sword, the motions igniting deep old knowledge in him he's surprised Cazador hadn't quite beaten out of him yet. A connection to an innate part of his heritage that this undead curse had snatched away from him. Back when he was just an elf, with history and culture and traditions. Not some monster whose eyes he had to keep forcing away from his new companion's neck. But really, did she have to get it tattooed such a bright red? She was basically mocking him, constantly reminding him of the forbidden liquid goodness that lay underneath her flesh. “I think that should do nicely,” Astarion finally answered, “Thank you...” he snapped his fingers, struggling to remember what she had called herself in his haze of sudden emotion and creeping hunger, “Apologies, I'm not good with names.” She rolled her eyes, but was thankfully still smiling as she reminded him. “My name is Henri. And you're A-star-ion.” The little gently mocking flip she had given the annunciation of his name made Astarion's stomach tie itself into a knot. Did she already see him as the annoying talkative idiot that he knew he was?

No pressure tags: @inkymoonbunny, @tealfling, @bhaalsdeepbat, @ladyduellist @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @elinorbard

[thebiggerbear]

WIP Wednesday - 9/18/24 - Beau Arlen x Reader

A/N: Something I've been working on since late last year. Any specific spoilers have been taken out.

Warnings: a smidgen of smut/implications; language

Your phone buzzed from where it sat on the floor, presumably where you’d dropped it the night before as you both stumbled into the room, lips and limbs locked while clothes flew everywhere. The vibration broke into your reverie when you heard it again. It was probably Jenny texting you to check in. You really should move to get it to answer her, but you hated to disturb Beau after such a late night, where you’d kept him going like the damn Energizer bunny. Plus, you were nice and warm here against him, all cozy and snuggled up into his side with his arm wrapped around you and pinning you to him, the cold chill of the morning kept at bay. You were in no hurry to leave your toasty cocoon, or to rush back to reality. You burrowed your head into his chest and closed your eyes, content to stay there. There was no way you were moving right now; you’d text Jenny as soon as you could muster the courage to move one bare foot from under the covers and place it on the cold ground.

A minute later, you began to have all-too familiar pangs and you nearly moaned in frustration. You were going to have to get up whether you wanted to or not. You mentally cursed out your bladder and attempted to carefully extract yourself from Beau’s grip. You were just about free when his arm suddenly tightened around you and brought you back towards him, his eyes open and intent on you. “Where’re you running off to, sweetheart?” His voice was deeper than usual, evidence of sleep still masking it. He had phrased the question in a teasing way, like always, but underneath you swore you could detect a tiny layer of hurt. As if you would have just skipped out the door while he was still asleep, no note left behind, no goodbye, nothing. Sure, you both may have had one hell of a one night stand, but he was still your best friend; you could never do that to him.  

You slipped your fingers up into his hair, tenderly stroking his scalp and making his eyes close halfway. He loved it when you did that. “To the bathroom,” you reassured him, noting the relief that began to saturate his features. “I really have to go. I think my bladder might explode.”

He had been pressing a tender kiss to your wrist when he let out an amused chuckle. “It’s not going to explode.” He released you and gave you a warm smile. “But all the same, you should go take care of business.” 

You gave him a nod and got to your feet, grimacing. You had been right; the floor was cold as hell. You grabbed his shirt and quickly slipped it on, only doing up a few buttons to give you basic coverage. You glanced back at him to find him watching you, his smile suddenly melting into a smirk and his eyes darkening slightly. Uh oh.

“Make sure you hurry back, darlin’.”

You watched as he placed an arm behind his head and laid fully on his back, making the very obvious tent underneath the sheet covering him stand tall. Your eyes widened slightly and you felt the pangs of something else stirring, flooding you with memories of just how well Beau had fucked you with that last night. You pressed your teeth into your lip to keep from moaning out loud when you saw him move the sheet away and wrap his hand around his erection, slowly sliding his hand up and down. 

“I thought you were going.” Your eyes met his and you could see the teasing gleam that was all too present. 

Normally, you would have teased back but right then you couldn’t care less about his cockiness. All you did was want. You felt a familiar ache between your legs that you had felt last night and it wasn’t the soreness. Besides, two could play that game.

“I suddenly don’t have to go anymore.” You made your way back onto the bed, slowly crawling up his legs to right where his hand was, wetting your lips with your tongue. 

His free hand lifted your chin to look at him. “Go. Like I said, just hurry back. Or I’ll come in and take care of this in the shower while you watch.” Seeing his dark gaze and hearing his voice dip in register, in addition to the very naughty images he put in your head just then, you were tempted to mount him right there, your bladder be damned. 

“You know, I’m technically a guest and a guest should automatically get breakfast,” you purred, running your fingers teasingly up his length until they met his. 

“Breakfast, huh?” He suddenly lunged forward, smacking his hands onto your ass and pulled you into his lap, making you squeak loudly in surprise. He yanked his shirt down enough to engulf your nipple into his mouth, eliciting a gasp from you and forcing you to coil your fingers into his hair, holding him that much closer to you. You felt his erection rubbing into you from behind and you moved back against it, moaning quietly. He released your nipple with a pop and trailed his lips up to your neck. Your fingers tightened their grip on him, and you began to rock yourself a little more fervently against him. You wanted him badly, and if you didn’t get what you wanted in the next few seconds, you didn’t know what you’d do. 

“Baby,” he murmured into your ear. “I’ll give you all the breakfast you want if you go take care of business and come right back.” He nibbled at your earlobe and then moved back to your neck, feasting on that spot he had found last night and making your eyes cross.

Fuck.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this upcoming work.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[ruubesz-draws]

Godzilla GIJINKA!!!!! (Finally)

I'm trying different ways to add colour to these drawings Failed miserably... :')

I redesigned Mothra and Scylla. Shimo and Tiamat were fun to design!

I'm also going to post the full profile/infos about my gijinkas later too (Hopefully soon)

[nounaarts]

LEAKED SCENE FROM SONIC MOVIE 3 ??

*queue 80’s music*

Here’s all their crimes listed :)

[anewp0tat0]

Happy Fathers Day, I'm finally on time for something!!! I don't have that much flavor this time though folks. just sweetness. that's it. hope that's cool, never too bad.

if you think this is anything but platonic then no, plz. away