#comets fics snippets

[23fallencomets]

Comets Fic Snippets

ranging from the oldest drafts I have to the newer ones so sit tight because this is pretty long :)

Made in the A.M

It takes Jenson a few minutes to realize what he’s looking at. In the dim lighting of his home office, with the sunset as a golden backdrop, he finds that Williams is screwing over their rookie. The data basically shoves it in his face with a taunt, look and see how they’re destroying this boy from the inside out. It takes him another second to gather himself, to put the papers down and look at the data from the sim racing and the on-track racing.

It’s bad, is what he’s getting at, so fucking bad that he’s surprised no one has said anything. He picks the papers up again, raising them above his head so they can catch the light like if the truth would reveal itself, like if it can convince him Williams isn’t sabotaging their only rookie.

Blue (Navy and True)

pairing: Max/Logan (inspired by that one edit one is the loneliest number followed by two ifykyk)

He wakes up a few hours later, 6:47 am exactly. His head swims as he goes to the bathroom, momentarily forgetting where he is exactly. By the time he remembers, he’s way too hungry to really care.

Max is still asleep and it reminds Logan that Max is still only three years older than him. He looks calmer, peaceful. Logan moves away and finds Max’s meal plan sitting on the table near the phone. He calls in room service that falls within their diet before moving around and picking up the mess he had made in attempt to get Max in bed.

Twenty minutes later, breakfast is on the table and Jos Verstappen at the door.

Endzone

“A boy born in the Sunshine State of the United Staes who left his home at a young age to pursue a challenging career in racing, who has been doubted again and again has shown up today in the red and white of the American team of Haas to bring them their first podium of the season! Logan Sargeant who has had to fight tooth and nail to prove himself over and over again showed up today and became the first American to win a Grand Prix since Mario Andretti in 1978! Logan Sargeant passes the checkered flag and wins in Suzuka!”

Logan sits in his car for a moment, hands still shaking around the steering wheel. His eyes are blurred by tears, a heaviness he didn’t know he still carried around suddenly loosening as he forces himself out, going through the motions. He stumbles to stand on the nose of his car, the red and white livery that helped deliver him first across the checker flag.

You Are More Than Just a Dream

Pairing: Loscar

OG mentor!logan fic i had posted about

“Do you want to go back? I’ll drive you.” Logan said, his Italian just a bit stilted. Whatever tension Kimi had releases as he leans heavily onto Logan. Logan had picked up Italian quicker than anyone Kimi had known, even Ollie still struggles, and they were teammates for the entirety of their time at Prema.

Kimi’s debut race could have been worse, like Oscar’s who had to DNF after a gearbox issue. There was no shame in Kimi finishing in tenth, unlike Logan who got lapped and ended in twelfth. Logan understood the stress of wanting to finish better, after all Logan was consistently below P15 for the first half of the 2024 seasons.

“Can I sleep in your room?” Kimi asks quietly. Logan nods, hands on his shoulders as he leads him out of the party. Their hotel isn’t that far, and the air is nice on their flushed skin. The whole walk back is silent, Kimi still in his head while Logan just makes sure Kimi gets in safe.

One in A Million

pairing: ??? i think it was implied carlos/logan ngl

Logan sighs, simultaneously relieved and dreading the briefing. It had taken them a week to post a proper goodbye post across their social medias. Logan didn’t exactly care since there wasn’t much he could do about it besides film a one-minute goodbye video. The media team had basically begged him to look happy and all Logan could have managed was a tense smile.

He didn’t really understand why they were making such an effort in getting content out of him when it wouldn’t matter in the next ten races. The only things he was looking forward to were the Team Torque videos and the little ten minutes challenges that were cut down to three or four minutes.

Meet Me Halfway

dad!logan, pairing undecided (toss up between loscar and sargebon, any suggestions of any logan ship is welcomed :)) , healthy co-parenting with female oc

Steph wasn’t lost, he just happened to lose sight of Miss Wendy and was now sitting next to a tall man with a funny accent. He watches the screen intently, keeping an eye out for his dad’s car. He rocks himself slightly when he catches sight of the Williams.

“That’s my dad’s car.” Steph says seriously, nodding as Logan overtakes another blue car. Toto blinks, pen moved from where it was pressed against his mouth. He looks at the little boy, his blue-green eyes and messy blonde hair, a natural down-tilt smile. He kind of looks like a baby version of Nico, and there’s only one other person on the paddock who sometimes looked like Nico.

Fred appears at the moment, a cup of coffee in his hands and freezes when he catches sight of Steph Sargeant sitting cutely next to his boss. He looks around, sees a camera focus in on him and he quickly steps forward, quickly drinking the warm coffee before he swoops in.

Let Me Wrap my teeth around the world

supernatural, past loscar, sargebon, parents!loscar, siren!logan

The fledging flinched; one hand gripped into the sweatshirt of the vampire next to him. The dark toned vampire looks between them, braid beads clinking almost beautifully; the leader, by all means as the others flank his sides.

Logan feels sick to his stomach, feeling it roll like storm waves, dangerous and painful. The fledgling—Oscar, his brain chants, Oscar, Oscar, Oscar—whines, eyes squeezing shut and trying to hide behind his leader.

Logan takes a step forward, shakily, and so fucking angry. It’s a few more steps until he gets his hands on him, tan skin against the sickly paleness of Oscar’s skin. The coven hisses, teeth bared in a pathetic mimicry of intimidation.

“You died.” Logan says, almost so quietly he’s not sure he can hear himself, “I buried you; Lia and I buried you.” At the mention of their foster child turned daughter, he flinches hard enough his leader grasps his hands, gentle and loving.

Rage boils under Logan’s skin.

Close to you

sargebon, post 7/28, dating-but-not-knowing-they’re-dating, redbull reserve driver!logan

Alex makes it home before midnight, the apartment as empty as he had left it. He drops his things off by the door, figuring out that he’ll move it later when he spots the first thing out of place. It’s nothing big, but Alex has always been good at keeping track of his apartment and that blanket wasn’t there when he left.

He walks over, running his hands over it and his fingers bump over the embroidered LS on the corner. He holds it in his arms, the heavy blue material making his arms ache as he looks around the living room. His movie center thing was moved around and there were droppings of popcorn on the floor near the couch.

Alex feels hope bloom in his chest when he spots a familiar navy blue suitcase in the hall by his bedroom door. He opens the door, a familiar tuft of blonde hair visible from where Logan is buried under Alex’s blankets. He drops the one in his arm on his desk chair as he carefully grabs his things. He still has to shower so he does so quickly, a million questions running through his head as he tries to not to slip.

Logan Sargeant and the Inconveniences of Crushes

In hindsight, this isn’t the worse thing that has happened to Logan; being friends with Arthur Leclerc takes the cake. Either way, Logan has a life-long history of falling in love with people he will never have so just like all the others, he doesn’t do anything about it.

He really should’ve taken in account how persistent Alex Albon and George Russel are.

And done! If you got to the end, thank you very much. Most of these fics have at least 1k words written, but keeping up with all of them isn’t easy especially with writers block. If any pique your interest and want to know a bit more, please don’t hesitate to shoot an ask and i’ll be more than happy to share more 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[daily-pat]

I've finished this far too late for my liking.

We continue with this mini series I've started (what's with me and mini series??). Chronologically, Tord's in his early teens now, and this is where the relationship begins to see a shift towards more of a father/son relationship instead of a family friend and mentor role. I've taken inspiration visually from post-impressionism today. It's probably one of my favorite eras in regards to a visual aesthetic, right after surrealism and impressionism (I LIKE IT OKAY. So normal). This is actually inspired by a bit from a fic I'm working on right now. Maybe if y'all want it, I'll reblog it with the very angsty snippet.

NO QOTD JUST GO LISTEN TO NATASHA PIERRE AND THE GREAT COMET OF 1812 THIS MUSICAL WILL MAKE YOU FEEL EVERY SINGLE EMOTION POSSIBLE IN WAYS YOU CANNOT EVEN COMPREHEND.

[aintgonnatakethis]

Writing Share Tag!

Thank you for the tags! I remember when I had enough free time to answer each tag game separately. Working life is not for me. 😔 As you can see though, I do keep them all and I appreciate being included in the writeblr community! ❤️️ I'm also reading all of them of course, but recently my spoon situation has been disastrous. I want to pick up providing feedback again; maybe this will hold me accountable!

@aziz-reads (x) (x) @gioiaalbanoart (x) (x) @frostedlemonwriter (x)

@willtheweaver (x) (x) @wyked-ao3 (x) @lychhiker-writes (x) @fortunatetragedy (x)

This snippet is from Flu O'Clock, a story in the on your hands and your knees, do you feel in charge? series. Classic sick!fic with my end goal being platonic OT3. Want to see how that's going?

Telford could appreciate the directness, and he wasn't about to do harm to himself just because he didn't like the taste of something. That was more Rush's speed, though he wisely didn't verbalise that thought, accepting the canteen and knocking back the stuff as quickly as he could without risking hurling it up again. "Good boy," Rush said, still in an aggressively casual tone of voice. Everett coughed. Rush did that thing where outwardly he completely ignored the sound, but Telford could see that all of the man's senses were trained with extreme interest on Everett, keenly awaiting any trace of pull on the line. Of course he got exactly what he wanted, because Everett just wasn't able to help himself, in far too many areas of his life. "You said you had work to do?" he asked Rush, proving the one thing he didn't possess was any degree of subtlety. "I think I'll work in here today," Rush said, the way he'd stated it as a fact without even an attempt at the faux politeness of asking if that would be alright designed to press Everett's buttons, specifically his agreeable-unless-you-don't-acknowledge-my-authority one. "Do you really think that's necessary?" Everett responded, overly mild. "He needs his rest." Rush placed the back of his hand on Telford's forehead. Telford heard Everett stand up. That's right, he thought with no small amount of amusement, fight like dogs over me. He relaxed beneath Rush's cool skin, allowing his eyes to drift closed. "I won't be a bother," Rush offered, in a tone far too soft to be used in company, in Telford's opinion. "I just think--" Everett started, only to be immediately interrupted. "I don't care what you think." "Rush." "What?" "You're going to calm down," Everett ordered, doing a terrible job of remaining calm himself. "I'm not the one yelling," Rush retorted, blunt but with a level enough voice that Telford knew Everett would find infuriating. "Maybe you'd like to practice using your inside voice." "Listen!" Everett hissed, clearly restraining himself from moving any closer. "You can't--" "I can do whatever I damn well please." The bed shifted as Rush stood. "You're not going to fucking touch me." Invoking Telford's unspoken protection was an odd play, but one of the best things about Rush was that he never did what was expected of him, always keeping those around him on their toes. Everett let out a warning rumble and Telford cracked his eyes open to see the two men standing nose to nose, staring each other down with no attempt from either party to conceal their aggression. "You know," Telford remarked pointedly. "If you two want to fuck you can have the bed." The twin scandalised expressions he received in response were well worth the headache the argument had set raging inside his skull, a bull deciding his brain would make a nice china shop to run riot in.

Tagging: @moltenwrites @the-golden-comet @finickyfelix @lancedoncrimsonwings @bagheerita + OPEN

[justabigoldnerd]

OH FUCK ITS WEDNESDAY

Trying to hold myself accountable again! 🤞💕

Here's a snippet from my Winter Fic Exchange!

The snow had formed a layer of ice that cracked and crunched with every step he took. A few snowbirds whistled happily overhead, and there were signs of rabbit and elk activity all around. Patches of mud scuffed clear by hooves rooting for grass and lichens, bundles of dry nesting material hidden in the skeletons of bushes, tell-tale pebble-like droppings. Illya was always amazed by how nature continued to thrive in subfreezing temperatures. You had to look hard for it, but what often appeared to be a frozen wasteland teemed with life. Solo and Gaby with their affinity for the equator thought of comfort as the buzz of crickets and the beating sun. Illya thought that comfort was better found in the ravens’ caw and the frost that coated every surface in silver.

No pressure tagging @huggiebird @happybean17 @falling-into-peril @heytheredeann @pippinoftheshire

@bighandsforabigheart @kcscribbler @mybelovedillya @cha-melodius @the-golden-comet

@thattripleabattery @too-young-to-fall-in-love @times-up-alone-tonight @vnyu73 @nicijones

@prettyboynapoleonsolo

And an Open Tag for anyone else who wants to join!! 💕💕💕

[alexandraisyes]

Patreon and Kofi

I did it! I uploaded all of my public artwork to my Patreon and my Kofi, and have set up tiers. I've also published some exclusive content already! Two batches of linework files are going to be free for members, and I've uploaded a snippet of a fic that I've been working on (hopefully that will get me to finish the fucking chapter).

Comet Tiers (Kofi + Patreon): 3 USD a Month

Meteor Tier (Patreon Only): 6 USD a Month

A lil sneak peek of what's waiting behind the scenes, I have full intention to post to these multiple times a week. The artwork files are complete bases files, labeled and organized, for personal use. Everything is uploaded and available to all tiers on both platforms.

Also, I'm going to upload the first half of the next Highly Unconventional oneshot to the Meteor tier (It's not ready for Ao3 yet, but it's mostly done).

Even if you can't join, or aren't interested, could you reblog this pretty please? It would help a lot.

[zackprincebooks]

Golden Hour Snippets

I did some snippets of Golden Hour, the first in my Messmer-Maedhros transmigration fic series for a challenge on Discord and I decided to share them here!

Tag list:

@wyked-ao3 @chaoticfallenangel @lizurich @the-golden-comet @crashedrocket12750

@burntblanc @katenewmanwrites @glasshouses-and-stones @lorifragolina

@nczaversnick @thatuselesshuman @phoenixofthegreenwood @mushroommanchanterelle

@ilovevewritingfanfic @t0ul0ser @jev-urisk @villain-lover7899 @rivenantiqnerd

Want to be added to or removed from the tag list? Click here!

“This, Nelyafinwë, is the forge."

Messmer walks into the forge, briefly closing his eyes as he's hit by a blast of heat. Taking the initiative, Fëanáro stands in front of him to protect him from the blast. "You'll get used to the heat in time. The fire is your friend, Nelyafinwë, and it will drive your creativity just as it drives mine."

Fire is your friend. How long did Messmer fight against the fire that threatened to consume him? How long did he use it to burn and destroy?

And now he was being told to create with it?

……..

The path in Prince Ingwion's garden is made of white stones so highly polished, they gleam under the gentle light of the crystal lanterns hanging from the fence posts. Yellow flowers climb up the walls, made of the same polished stone, and fill the night air with their fragrance. A fountain in the middle sends its water into the air, and the tinkling sound as it splashes into the pool mixes harmoniously with the sounds of the evening.

Sitting in the middle of the garden is Prince Ingwion himself, adorned with the circlet of his station. Confusingly, though his circlet implies a business meeting, his attire suggests an intimate meeting between two close friends: a soft white robe with yellow lace trim and a deep green sash. The emeralds in his ears match the emerald comb holding his golden braid into place.

Messmer has misread his invitation entirely.

........

"I became aware of my existence around the time of my first begetting day, though I know not the reason why," Messmer explains. "The name of my first self was Messmer the Impaler." Even saying his old name makes Messmer shudder, but Nerdanel squeezes his hand. "I was born the son of Queen Marika the Eternal. I died undertaking a crusade under her command. When she no longer needed me, she abandoned me to my fate."

There is silence as Nerdanel absorbs the information that the fëa occupying her son is that of a stranger. But she does not let go of his hand.

"Ever you have been my son, even if I have not always been your mother," she speaks. Messmer dares to lift his head. "And if your mother has abandoned you, then let me be your mother forevermore."

........

"You're holding your breath again. Keep up your breathing rhythm. In and out."

Messmer forces himself to take in a shaky breath as Rog moves his new arm back and forth. He's laying at an angle on a padded bench with Rog behind him, bracing himself with one hand on Messmer's back. Messmer's new arm is stretched behind him, his fingers twined with Rog's free hand.

Part of the healing process, he said. They needed to make sure Messmer's new arm had the same elasticity as the old one, which was always tricky with metal limbs no matter how finely wrought they were. This involved Messmer coming into Rog's workshop multiple times a week to bend and stretch his arm in new positions. He was getting better each day and found himself using his new limb with greater ease. Soon he'll be able to wield a spear again.

But now all Messmer can focus on is Rog's hand, big and firm, pressed between his shoulder blades. He whimpers as Rog presses harder, and Rog's murmured, "you're doing so well" is not helping.

[alicentrasers]

Hi!! I'd quite like to ask about Dogma'a Rulebook please! (Also Fuck me in the arse tonight because that title!!!)

Lmao, I was waiting for someone to ask about that!

Dogma's Rulebook is another fic from my old co-author. They wrote about 3ish chapters before jumping to another midnight idea. Minor editing has occurred with this one but I'll be honest, I haven't read it in a while.

General premise is about Dogma's transition from the front lines, after umbara, into the guard. It covers his introduction, his relationships with his new squad, the commanders, and a possible love interest via civilian- though Im thinking about cutting that character as his main purpose was simply cuddle piles.

Here is a section that I have deemed Safe for Public Consumption:

"The barracks themselves were not much different then the ones on the Resolute, although there were many more bunks with space to spare, and even a large window on one side. The Commander starts talking to Dogma again, something along the lines of the freshers being in the back and some trooper habits. The large window has several mattresses placed in front of it, along with a veritable nest of pillows and blankets. The bunks that they were scavenged from have been fashioned into shelves with everything from holopads to odd plants stored in their cubbies. These bits of improvised furniture create a sort of room within a room, blocking off the view to most other bunks, and with the evening sun it all looks rather peaceful.

A firm hand clapping his shoulder brings Dogma back to conversation, Commander Thorn is wrapping up his welcome speech it seems. “Remember the other vode here can help you find anything, you’ll start on basic patrols with your assigned group after tomorrow, get some rest Private.” Dogma nods, he hasn’t used more than a handful of words on the way here and he wasn’t about to change that, hopefully it wouldn’t seem too disrespectful to the Commander. Honestly Dogma isn’t usually this wrapped up in his own head, but ever since Umbara he’s been distracted more and more lately, usually by the smallest things too."

Like I said, old work, needs major edits. I'm not sure if I'm going to keep it as Dogma is not one of my main characters for this AU.

-*-

Hehehehe, Fuck me in the Ass Tonight

That is the Working Title for the Ongoing Chat-fic Landline Across the Galaxy posted on my AO3. Currently, I had to change the working title to Funk Me on the Dance Floor cause I work on that doc at work a lot lmao.

This is an Information/Gossip Chat started by Jesse. It features characters that I don't normally see in most CloneWars chat fics, as well as some OCs of mine to add to the chaos. Landline has the heavy job of Connecting all of my WIPs and Posted Fics together into a general timeline, as well as providing Lore and another perspective on the canon events.

Oh, and memes

Never forget the memes

Here is a section from the unposted Plans for new chapters:

"Ahsoka: JESSE'S GOT SPACE INSTAGRAM AND NOBODY TOLD ME!!

Jesse: SOKA, HUSH

Ahsoka: YOU FOLLOWED AND UNFOLLOWED BARRIS, I'M GOING TO KNOW

Jesse: IT WAS A MISTAP, I APOLOGIZED

Ahsoka: ACCEPT MY FOLLOW, YOU COWARD

Ahsoka: WHY BOTHER WITH A PRIVATE ACCOUNT ANYWAY

Jesse: I WANT YOU TO LOOK AT THUS CHAT, AND ASK THAT AGAIN

Ahsoka: ….

Ahsoka: okay, true

Ahsoka: BUT U STILL DNT TRLL ME

Jesse: have you considered that maybe I don't want ppl seeing what I post?

Ahsoka: Jesse

Ahsoka: You have 3500 followers…

Jesse:...

Ahsoka:...

Ahdoka: LET ME IN

Jesse: NEVER

[Kix is now Online.]

Kix: And this is why I have this commline muted

[Comet is now Online.]

Comet: Jesse… Why are you shirtless in your profile picture…

Kix: >:("

Yes, I normally write snippets for this fic while sleep deprived and watching vines. I am /hilarious/

[kartaylirnaak]

WIP Game

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thank you for the tag @hastalavistabyebye! And oh boy, do I have a long WIP list. There's so many of these that I'm going to put them into categories. And this isn't even everything! I haven't included most of my headcanon ramblings as I don't really see them as fics, apart from a few that ended up morphing into bits of fic and hopefully, one day, have the possible potential of turning into an actual, finished fic. I've also only included WIPs that progressed beyond the random collection of notes and ideas stage. If I included all of those, I'd be here for an age.

I've turned on asks just for this and I love rambling on about my far too many WIPs and headcanons so please do ask away!

Fair warning, smutty file names below.

Behold my very original file naming conventions ���

WIPs Originally Created for Fandom Events

Codex Week 2024 Fic – Combo of Prompts

Codex Week 2024 Fic – Hands Prompt

Codywan Week 2024 Lingerie Chat Fic

SubObi Week 2023 Dry humping/Thigh riding

Discord Ramblings That Turned Into Fics

Fem Dogma

Fem Dogma Related Scenes

Waxer and Boil Discord Ramblings

Waxer/Boil/Wooley Discord Rambling

Cody training Fives and Echo

Fox and Dogma

Fox and Neyo and then lesbian Bite Batch

Rex training Echo and Fives

The Care and Feeding of Your Marshal Commander

Tup Dogma Fox

Wolffe Comet and Wolf Pack thoughts

OCs

Match 212th ARC

Tank and Foil Short Fic

Kinktober 2024

Kinktober 2024 Day 7 Omegaverse

Kinktober 2024 Day 12 Overstimulation and Clone Kinktober 2024 Day 12 Binder/Bondage Play

Kinktober 2024 Day 22 Somnophilia

Kinktober 2024 Day 24 Sensory Deprivation

Kinktober 2024 Day 28 Sex Toys

NPTs (No Pressure Tags: I never know who to tag in these things, mainly because I'm worried about tagging someone who's already been tagged by other people. So if you see this, consider yourself tagged! Especially if you're doing Kinktober or writing smut.

[23fallencomets]

for the actor logan fic can you tell us what kind of roles logan usually get? what was his career trajectory up until the fic? Im sososo excited driver x non-driver aus are always so fun

ooohh i haven’t really thought of that but we can establish that right now

so he’s been in the industry for 15~ years so he basically grew up in the eyes of the media. I put him as his generations heart throb so he usually gets romcoms because the awkward lover boy trope is a hit. he most definitely experimented with other genres: horror, thrillers, action, indie, sci-fi.

he’s a hit in romcoms and fantasy though. his one horror film did so well people wanted him in more and he was like “i had to see a therapist, i don’t know how the others do it” so horror, one and done.

would probably mess around with western style shows/movies. the longest show he had been on was a sitcom type of thing (friends, modern family, that 70s show type of beat) and it ran for ten seasons, so from from the ages 11 to 21.

he has a super clean reputation because he had seen how the media can turn on someone like nothing so he worked extremely hard to be a respectable person. He does still act like any other young person in their 20s but he will disappear the moment drugs or anything that can incriminate him appear.

people get suspicious about him since there’s literally no dirt on him but that’s just because logan knows how to act like a normal person and is a firm believer in boundaries.

mans was booked and busy so he takes a year off and that’s where formula one comes in!

his one connection to F1 is through liam because i’m a mess for lilo (literally the cutest ship name) and the fic timeline starts in miami :)

[loverboy-havocboy]

I gotta ask about mushroomgate for the WIP ask game 👀

--sithfox ❤️

i'm so glad you asked @sithfox !! 

it's mentioned a few times throughout the series that he's allergic to mushrooms, and at one point gregor gets a call from comet who's frantic because sinker is in the hospital for an allergic reaction. this is a sinker-centric side fic that describes how all of that happened. 

i came up with the whole plot at 7am on no sleep all the way back in january, but someone else asked that i let them write the fic. a few months went by before i was like alright, obviously that's not happening, which is fine because now i get to do it!! i'm gonna put more snippets than anyone probably wants to read 😂 but i've been a little sad about it but being done. there are a lot of italics in the doc, but i'm on mobile and i don't want to flip back and forth to add them sorry!

context besides his mushroom allergy is that he has pretty severe adhd, a bad memory, and his brain is all worms on this particular day. 

Sinker allows the rushing throng of midtown Keldabe to move him along the sidewalk, not paying attention to much besides his general direction and where the crosswalks are. His mind is too busy to focus on the rest. He's fresh out of a meeting with his agent, and he's feeling more than a little frazzled. 

It isn't always so bad, but today was off kilter from the minute he rolled out of bed -- twenty minutes late. He'd been so tired from wandering restlessly around the apartment all night that he slept through all five of his alarms, and Boost wasn't there to wake him, having already headed into the shop. It was only downhill from there. 

Some of this morning’s several other horrors descended upon him in the form of his coffee spilling all over his bag - which meant he had to throw everything into another one and leave the house without a single sip of coffee - and his Uber driver getting lost on the way to his agent's office. 

So. Anyway. He had a bad morning. 

He's glad he listened to the little Boost in his brain - who knows how long he would've rushed around without thinking to stop for food otherwise. It's one of the first things that gets lost when his head is in a mess, which sucks, because being hungry definitely doesn’t help pull him out of it. 

[...]

He never eats mushrooms, though. Boost doesn't like them. 

Or..?

Sinker pauses, frowning to himself for a moment. That doesn't.. seem right? There's something about mushrooms, something tugging at the back of his mind, but his mind is being pulled in a hundred different directions and all he can come up with is that Boost doesn’t like mushrooms. 

He gives it one more second. Two. 

Nothing else comes to him. 

Mushrooms it is, then. 

“It’s really good. It’s ham, artichokes, mush-”

Oh, no. 

He remembers now. There is a different reason he doesn't eat mushrooms. And important one. 

There’s a clattering sound, then Boost’s voice becomes clearer. “Did you say mushrooms?”

“I.. I forgot,” he whispers, horrified. He feels frozen. 

“Your epipen, Sinker,” Boost says, voice suddenly hard in his ear. It’s that tone of voice that snaps him into action, even before Boost adds, “Now.”

He digs through his bag frantically, his panic growing the longer he looks and doesn’t find it.

Where is it? Where is it? It's not here! 

Because it’s on the kitchen counter, he realizes, his blood running cold. Right where he must have left it in his rush to scrape everything into this bag after the coffee spilled. 

“Sinker?” Boost prompts urgently. “Talk to me.”

Boost is going to be so angry with him.

[boost pov]

“Someone has to call an ambulance. Ask them, Sink. I need you to ask them- anyone.”

It’s not possible. He knows it as soon as he hears Sinker’s next horrible breath. Someone else will hear it, too. He has to believe that. Someone will help Sinker until he gets there. They have to.

“I have to call.” 

The sound Sinker makes now is almost worse than the wheezing - high, and frantic, and pleading. Boost’s stomach rolls. He almost drops the epipen in his fumbling attempt to shove it into his pocket as he bolts back through the shop, straight out the door. 

Sinker tries to say something. It's unintelligible, but Boost knows what it means. 

He doesn’t want to be left alone. 

The last thing Boost wants is to do that to him, and he has to anyway. 

“I’m coming, Sink, but I have to call. I love you. I’m coming, so just breathe, okay?”

[leatafandom]

WIP Title Tag Game

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thank you so much for tagging me @incorrectcoldflashblog! I'm playing catch up with tags >.<" I have actually added a few and posted a few since the last time I did one of these!

Supercorp Barn Scene

Shinny dipping Clex

Tell me I'm a Wreck

Pinocchio and the Trickster

Vampire Lex

Roleplay movie rewrite with spideypool

Christmas with Adam and Kate

Flashbacks and Nightmares

Learn

Multiverse Midam Meanderings

Lost in Translation 2

In the Beginning Chapter

Valley Kingdoms

Sweet Tooth OG Horror

Monster eater verse WIPs (12 different wips for the price of one)

VHS Cannibalism/Hunting Horror OG Story

The Witch King Chronicles OG

Water Dragon Horror OG Story

Sabriel Spy Au

Feels like the First Time

Sweet Tooth Fluff

Blend Carefully and Let Simmer

Vessel Fic

Distractions Spideypool New

Sabriel anniversary

Behind your House

Jumpsuits and Candy

Seasonal Healing

Trek-Expanse Verse

Merthur Smut

Ahh, so that's 27 Umm let's see if I can think I'm this heat...

No pressure tags: @idabbleincrazy @fantasticstoryteller @reallyreal-madeingold @wyked-ao3 @the-golden-comet @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes @heavenssexiestangel @midnightsilver @sallyamongpoison @simpledontmeanpeachy @maggot-monger mmm and anyone else cause lord it's still so hot

[glasshouses-and-stones]

Writing Share

Thank you to @zackprincebooks and @the-golden-comet for tagging me!

This is a snippet from my WIP hope you understand (there’s no going back) (M), a sequel to my Trevor/Jamie fic, why don't we kick it up a notch? (let my hands give it a shot) (M).

(My ao3 is linked in the pinned post on my blog ✨️.)

This fic has been giving me so many problems omg. I've started it over twice, but I just can't seem to find motivation for it... Anyways, here it is:

-

Thankfully, he's the first person in the locker room. It's still entirely too early for anyone else to be here, and Jamie is immensely grateful. He takes his time getting dressed, lacing his skates up and tucking his hair behind his ears to fit under his helmet.

The moment he glides onto the rink, the sounds of his blades cutting through the ice, his brain clears a bit, and the nausea bleeds from his stomach. It's grounding to skate around, a constant in his life, something that has never let him down before. Shooting goals is something that Jamie can do mindlessly, and each puck slung into the back of the net is a weight off of his shoulder.

Well, until his teammates start arriving.

-

Open tag for this one, guys. If you do this, please tag me, and I'll read it :)

[aintgonnatakethis]

Last Line Tag

Thank you @gioiaalbanoart (x) (x) for the tags!

Let's do two bits from my Sheppard-gives-Kolya-to-Todd fic, bodies in my closet so I can ask people's opinions. In the first snippet, is 'for' or 'of' a better word to use? Their meanings are ever-so-slightly different and I can't choose.

Sheppard could understand that only too well: when the fight was all there was left for/of you, when the only resistance you had left to give was the kind that killed you.

For the second snippet, would Sheppard says 'homo neanderthalensis' because he is a privately-educated rich boy and, while he usually goes to great lengths to hide this fact, when he says this line he's extremely highly emotionally charged and therefore might slip? Or would he just say neanderthals? PS: I know capitalising the 'homo' would be linguistically correct but it made it look Wrong™ to my brain so I'm not doing it! 😝

"They say society began with a healed femur bone but I think it began when the homo sapiens wiped out the homo neanderthalensis/neanderthals. That's who we are."

Tagging: @wyked-ao3 @fortunatetragedy @the-golden-comet @jjoneswriting @moltenwrites + OPEN

[justabigoldnerd]

I made a banner for this one too!!!! Also took this picture 🥰

Thank you so much for the tag, @nicijones !!

Rules: Share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the word in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word)

My Words: ordinary, battlefield, pierce, flush

Your Words: blade, trance, collect, nose

Ordinary: I searched not only all my WIPs, but also every fic I've written, and not ONCE do I EVER use this word. That is WILD. So naturally I wrote a whole new sentence of a snippet for a new WIP just so I could have this word in a work lmaooo

The time had come. Illya knew it was coming. He had been explicitly warned that it would. Waverly could only keep him on the Isles for so long. The telegram beeped in the message on the morning of a strikingly ordinary day. He was in his flat, drinking tea (English breakfast with a healthy portion of milk) and scanning the blessedly uninteresting stories in the Daily Mirror, waiting for his slower-waking partner to knock on his door so they could walk to headquarters together. Once it stopped, he unhurriedly folded the newspaper and stood from the table to retrieve the message. However, as Illya read the simple words over and over again, his head spun and his hands began to tremble.

Battlefield: "The X-Men From U.N.C.L.E." I knooooow I've used this snippet before but it's the ONLY WIP that uses this word lol

Solo had never seen a battlefield, but the scene smelled like what he imagined a war zone would. He could almost feel the grit of char in his teeth and clogging his throat.

Pierce: "I Am Your Lover (I Am Your Jailor)" Okay. I know this is from an already posted chapter. But I couldn't find this word in any other WIP 😫

In one fluid movement, Solo pulled the doublet and his linen shirt over his head, the wet fabric trying to cling to him. A spear of grief and pain and anger pierced Illya's stomach at the sight of Solo's back. The muscles and scapula shifted under thick scar tissue; rough lines in thatched pattern covering every inch of skin from his shoulders down to the base of his spine. “One for every attempt.”

Flush: "The Most Dangerous Game [Extended]"

"Okay," Illya sighed, "Do your worst." "I'll do my best, thank you," he scoffed lightly, "I don't want to hurt you." Solo wiped away a bit of suds that threatened to fall into Illya's eye, then reached up to remove the shower head. He turned the setting so that the pressure was a soft flush, then carefully rinsed mud and blood from below the line of punctures. "Let me know if it's too much," he said as he kneeled on the shower floor.

Phew! This was definitely the most challenging one I've done!! No pressure tagging @too-young-to-fall-in-love @times-up-alone-tonight @huggiebird @the-golden-comet @pippinoftheshire

@yallwildinrn @cha-melodius @heytheredeann and anyone else who wants to join!!!

[rookfeatherrambles]

A little snippet. A taste. A morsel of my new AU/Fic

HI TUMBLR I HAVE SOMETHING TO SHARE! I give you my first real contribution to the Storm Singer AU/FIC! I've got a plan to write a bunch of things I want to see and then weave them together into a fic to put on AO3 so right now, all I have is disjointed snippets, but I've decided to show you the entirety of this scene I'm just calling 'At Dawn - Jmart' in my docs because I suck at naming things! I hope you enjoy! Also: If you want to follow this project as it develops, I'm going to tag all things related to it with #The Storm Singer AU! Also, Martin is He/They and Jon is He/It! Bear with me as I learn how to write and place different pronouns! ANYWAY, HERE YOU GO! EDIT: FINALLY EDITED IT SO THE PRONOUNS AREN'T SWITCHING BACK AND FORTH SO MUCH. FOR THIS, MARTIN IS A THEY, JON IS A HE!

AT DAWN --- The sky was still strewn with stars when Martin quietly packed their bag and crept out of the house they shared with their father. The streets were sparsely lit with lamps, many of them having guttered out in the early morning gloom. Martin found themself invigorated as they walked down the winding streets towards the bay, its waters reflecting the light of the moon overhead.

Their heart was thumping but they felt light and sure of themselves as they walked along the boardwalk towards the beach. Twice, they found his gaze drawn upwards towards the heavens and all the mysteries that resided there, out of reach, in the sky.

Stars so old they'd watched the rise and fall of empires, dynasties, and families. Martin's grandfather, and their father before them, sailing under the same stars, and across the same sea. There was something so breathtakingly awesome about that.

But if they stood there gazing skyward and wondering about the universe and their place in it, they'd be there for hours. Martin dropped their bag onto the soft sand and went to retrieve their rowboat from where it was hidden beneath the pier.

The tide was eager, and so was Martin. They gathered their things back up and climbed in, and began their journey out into the dark waters.

For a while, there was no sound but the quiet splash of their oars as they rowed themself into the night. The wind blew lightly, and the temperature was just shy of chill, but Martin didn't mind.

Once the city of (Name pending lmao) was reduced to glittering fireflies on the shore, Martin stopped rowing.

Their little boat bobbed up and down gently on the waves and they were consumed with the feeling of being so very small. The sky undimmed in the hours before dawn, was an expanse they would absolutely lose themself in if they had the option.

But they'd travelled out to the bay in secrecy for a purpose. And after taking a steadying breath, Martin started to speak.

The words were nothing special, at least they'd say so. Their aptitude for poetry always felt middling at best, but right now, it wasn’t the prose they were focusing on, but how they spoke it, how their voice ebbed and flowed like the tide, tone and nuance rising and falling like the water that surrounded them.

Martin was waiting for something, and they didn't have to wait long.

From below the waves came a strange glow, ethereal, almost beautiful. It rose gracefully, brightening the water like an aquatic, silver comet, tail and all. They dared to dip their fingers into the light and it dimmed the sea to blackness once more before a long-fingered hand slipped into theirs from below. Martin's heart gave a dizzy lurch and he gasped as Jon's head surfaced from beneath, long dark hair liquid in the night. His eyes were luminescent green and reflected the moonlight as he stared up at the human he'd been hoping to see.

"Hi," Martin breathed.

Jon smiled, and let go of their hand to haul himself up the last few inches and chastely kiss Martin's lips, careful not to upset the boat. The contact was expected, and yet Martin’s body trembled with nerves and thrilled at the sensation.

"I-I didn't know if you'd come," Martin said in a rush as soon as the siren had drawn back. Jon let out an amused sound in the back of his throat. "Likewise. I assumed... you'd had enough adventure for one lifetime."

Thankful the night hid their blush, Martin coughed a little. "Yes, well... sharks."

Jon's arms crossed over the edge of the boat, rocking it a little as he sighed and rested his chin against them. "I wouldn't have let them harm you. All denizens of the sea answer to the storm singer. They were just curious about you. You are a curious thing to us, Martin, can you blame them?"

Martin giggled nervously and the sound was pitched high in a way that made Jon smile indulgently. "Next time-" he began but Martin let out another gasp. "Next time? You want a next time for me swimming with sharks, Jon?"

Jon rolled his green eyes skyward and then continued as if Martin hadn't interrupted. "Next time, I'll introduce you to a less inquisitive species."

"Oh, I'm sure that will make all the difference. They're sharks!"

Reaching out, Jon poked Martin. "And you're a human and I'm a mer, I'm so glad you've learned the differences between creatures," he deadpanned.

"Jon."

"Martin~"

Martin threw their hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, you win. I guess I'll have to swim with sharks the next time I'm out here. Are you coming up?"

Onto the boat, was what they meant and Jon's face crinkled up under the moonlight in a way that made his markings dance as he laughed silently. "If you had a bigger ship, perhaps. As it stands, if I put any more weight onto your flimsy hollow log, it's going to turn into kindling and you are going to drown. Again.”

There was definitely truth to his words, Martin could spy Jon's long tail coiling and drifting in the water. It was powerful and hypnotic to watch it undulate. The silver patterns all over it were dim tonight, but they knew that was because Jon was relaxed. It made them feel good that Jon could let his guard down around them.

"Well, come up a little bit," they cajoled. "Please?"

The siren arched an eyebrow. "Another kiss?" 

Martin hmm'ed gently. "For a fish, you're really good at it."

"For a fish??"

Jon's aghast and affronted tone had Martin giggling again. "Ah-! Ahaha.. you know what I mean! Fish- fish person? You know I didn't- Whoa!!"

The rowboat rocked so suddenly, Martin unbalanced, but Jon's hands had them, cupping both their cheeks as he pressed his lips hard to theirs. Oh.

Martin's heart did a funny little flip flop and they were pretty sure they made the most embarrassing noise against Jon’s mouth. Still, Jon kissed them like he was hungry, all lips and tongue and a little teeth, though Martin never bled, a testament to how gentle Jon was being with them. When they were dizzy again, that was the moment the siren released them, steadying Martin and the boat as he slipped back down into the water next to it.

"Oh." Martin said, intelligently, trying to herd their thoughts back to coherency. "Th-That was..."

Jon licked his lips. "Enough compensation for me not being draped in your arms at this moment?" There was a satisfied purr in his voice.

"Y-Yes," Martin said, nodding. "Definitely."

On the horizon, a band of brighter sky quietly made itself known, gently pink, not red. Jon turned his head to glance towards it. "Dawn," he said, voice soft. Martin hated the resigned tone of it. "Stay with me?" they asked, no, begged, reaching out to take Jon's hand and hold it. "Until the sunrise?"

There was conflict in the beautiful siren’s eyes as he looked between the imminent break of day and back to Martin's hopeful expression. But then, Jon sighed, squeezing the human's hand. "Of course."

Martin smiled and they both turned to watch the sky get brighter, the stars slowly fading out, a beautiful blue colour overtaking the darkness, followed by pure light. Martin squinted their eyes painfully as the sun rose in all its dazzling glory, spilling liquid gold across the world, but one look at Jon stole their breath away and made them forget how much their eyes were watering.

Jon’s deep brown skin glittered, not with water droplets, but minute flecks of scales catching the sun and reflecting it back. His eyes and the pale strands in his dark brown hair shone fiercely too, and in that moment, Martin understood how humans of yore had worshipped beings like Jon as gods for eons. He was indescribably beautiful, and Martin's inelegant, poetic ramblings could never capture the emotion in their chest when they looked at the man they loved. And then the moment was over, and Jon turned his head back to Martin, eyes a little sad. "I have to go now. You understand, don't you?"

Martin did. Jon was hunted, for his crimes against the people of the city and the crime of simply being what he was. As much as they didn't want to let that hand slip from their grasp, they knew they had to.

"I'll come back," Martin promised as Jon pulled away, fingertips lingering on their palm. "And you can show me as many sharks as you'd like."

Jon paused, eyes glittering with something that Martin didn't want to yet classify as love. It wasn't their right. Nor did they think they were worthy of it, not when they were keeping so many dangerous secrets from him.

"Is that a promise?"

Martin grinned, their own blue-green eyes shining. "On my honour, I will pet all the sharks. I promise."

The skin around Jon’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, and not for the first time, Martin wished they were a visual artist instead of a wordsmith, they would have loved to capture that expression, those eyes in that face, and preserve it for eternity.

"Goodbye," Martin whispered, and then Jon disappeared beneath the water with barely a ripple and was gone.

A gull cried far above him and Martin let out a shuddering breath, blinking away sudden wetness in their eyes. After a silent moment of composure in the warm sunlight, they picked up their oars and began rowing for home.

[unreadpoppy]

For the WIP ask game, wondering about the "whole bunch of musicals inspire ball fic"!

so "whole bunch of musicals inspire ball fic" is the document title for Brown Eyes kkkk

The reason the document has this title is because this fic was lowkey inspired by like three/four songs? They were "The Opera" and "The Ball" from Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812, "I'd be suprisingly good for you" from Evita and "As the World Falls Down" by David Bowie, and tbh, Brown Eyes ended up being completely different than what I had originally in mind with these songs so I might come back and do something else in the future.

I haven't written chapter 4 yet so the only snippet i can show here is a few of the notes i left for when I do update it

also, thanks for the ask🩷