#my wip fic

[venusbyline]

guys i promise that someday i'll really write an AU/crossover fic about female reader or female OC in a throuple with Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) and Will Graham (Hannibal)

[jesterjazz-creates]

I keep seeing fanart of Brucie interacting with My Adventures of Superman Clark and I need them to interact and if I can't see them interact I'm making them interact

[nereidof40k]

A small snippet of something I’m working on. Especially proud of the last paragraph

The guards kept their bolters trained on him. “Identify yourself.”

Letting them see his hands clearly, he unsealed the helmet, pulling it off for the first time in ages.

“Jago Sevatarion, better known as Sevatar.”

There was stunned silence for several moments. They could see clearly he looked very much like his picture. The exact same scars on his face, though a bit more healed with time. A touch of gray hair at the temples, which only made him look more distinguished. His hair was longer, but no less full.

He looked tired, but that too fit perfectly. Sevatar always looked like he was three nights short of a good night’s sleep.

[neonovember]

Do you have a request WIP we can take a peek at?🫣🤭

oh you know i do

You aren't jealous.

You have never experienced the slimy green devil in any of your past relationships, so you shouldn't feel it now.

Your mind isn't fond of what it should feel however, and instead, you feel a burning ache begin to burst through your chest as you watch Carmen nod excitedly at Claire in the Beef’s front dining space. It disgusts you, how this feeling wraps around your heart like sludge. You've been trying to focus on prepping for the new menu, gathering different ensembles of compotes and sauces, but your eyes always finds it’s way back to them.

And her.

Claire had burst into Carmen’s life seemingly out of nowhere, and it took one exchange between you both to know it was different. Claire had something you didn't with Carmen, a past, and the discomforting feeling of being on the outside looking in was all that blared in your mind the past few weeks since her appearance.

It wasn’t like Claire was rude, no that would have made this feeling easier to bear. She was nice, for god sake. The only person in Chicago who it seemed had not yet gotten all their goodness sucked out, and she had to have been Carmen's old friend. And a friend was all she was, so why did you- why are you jealous?

She knows him better than you do.

You shake the thought out of your mind so furiously the container in your hand spills onto the cutting board. You weren't going to go there, not when Carmen hadn't done anything wrong. You wanted him to have friends, to broaden his circle from beyond just the Beef and Sugar, who you made sure to point out didn't exactly count. So you should be happy, ecstatic even, that he was able to reconnect with someone that had known him for so long.

But she had known him for so long. 

And you know you're being irrational and hypocritical and you know you can’t own someone else, but maybe there was a part of you that liked that you had him all to yourself.

Carmen was different. To your other relationships, your other friendships, everything. You and Carmen danced around your feelings for so long that when it exploded into heated kisses and confessions of love one night after a dazzling dinner service, it had already felt like you had been with him for years.

And Carmen was devoted to you, he sang it into your skin every chance he got. It was just that those chances had begun to dwindle day after day the more Claire came around, until you had begun to detest the sound of her name leaving his mouth.

The squealed sound of Claire rips you from your reverie, and your eyes shoot up to catch her grip Carmen's shoulder, her head tilted back and eyes squirmed shut in laughter. The ripple of jealous rage that bursts through every limb in your body causes you to drop the knife in your hand and rush through the inquisitive shouts of Richie and Syd, until you hear the slam of the backdoor behind you.

Your leg jitters as you walk around in circles, grinding your jaw as visions of Claire and Carmen flash in your mind. Fisting the washcloth in your hand till your knuckles turn white, you stuff your face into it, masking the scream of festered anger that rips from your throat. 

You’re pathetic, you don't get to feel jealous. Carmen would never even think of it, of betraying you, and yet angry tears gather at your waterline despite. Your heart feels as if it's going to shatter and take you tumbling down with it, when have you ever felt this way?

You hate it, you seethe as you're forced to sit in it and make room for it in your mind. It takes over, overcrowding your mind till you can't hear anything else, where even the buzzing of your phone is unregistered till your thigh begins to itch.

Wiping a hand across your face, you reach down to grasp the metallic slick edges. And the image of Luca flashing across the screen stumps you frozen till it rings out. You hadn't seen him since Denmark, in fact it had been years.

The ping of a text shakes you from the memories of spending months on boats and pastry kitchens in Copenhagen, the gray bubbles appearing on your screen.

“Gonna be in Chicago for a bit, wanna test out if your Mille-Feuille is still up to standard?”

[jamieroyjamieroy]

I haven’t been able to write anything for the last few days. Every time I open the document I can’t make the words appear on the page. Today I finally had a little bit of inspiration so I’m sharing some of my bucktommy beach date fic. Hope you like it. 🌊🌊

“Here we are.” Tommy announces pulling into the parking lot of the quiet beach. Jumping out the car to gather the supplies from the truck bed. His excitement makes him unaware of the discomfort Evan is desperately trying to hide.

The fidgeting hands and the rapidly increasing breathing goes unnoticed as Tommy loads up the picnic basket, blanket and bags. Evan takes a deep breathe and exits the car onto shaky legs, pasting a smile on his face. Evan watches the water as Tommy rounds the car his smile bright until he notices the paleness of Evan’s face. The unfocused stare and the quick, rapid gasps.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Tommy asks dropping everything in his arms and grasping Evan’s hands, standing in his eyeline and blocking his view of the ocean. “Evan, sweetheart. Please talk to me.” Tommy begs worried about the distant gaze and the shallow breathing that Evan is displaying. Tommy steps closer to Evan placing a hand on his cheek and rubbing a thumb across Evan’s clammy cheek. “Evan, let’s get you back in the car baby. There we go, sit down for me. Good boy.” Tommy says softly opening the passenger door and guiding an unresponsive Evan into his seat. Placing the long legs he so loves carefully into the car Tommy closes the door, fear and worry coursing through him. He has never seen Evan like this before. Grabbing all the things he dropped and throwing them into the truck bed, Tommy races around to the drivers side and jumps in. Reversing quickly with no plans other than to get Evan as far from the ocean as he can.

Tommy grips the steering wheel and wonders what he can do to help Evan. He is pretty sure he is having a panic attack or a ptsd episode, he remembers vividly the ones his some of his platoon members experienced during his army days, Tommy just isn’t sure what has trigged this in Evan. The cause, he knows, is secondary to finding a place to take Evan to feel safe again. Somewhere away from the beach, somewhere open incase Evan is feeling claustrophobic at all. Tommy looks over at Evan, he can see his mouth moving but his voice is so quiet he can’t make out what is being said. Spotting a park ahead Tommy reaches over and places a hand on Evan’s cold, shaky arm. “Almost there baby. Just give me a sec and I’ll help get you through this.” Tommy says trying to remain calm despite the worry roiling in his stomach.

[akirasstories]

Late Night Driving and OMG Drunk Texting

okay, as i already posted some drunk texting, but here's another part: 😁

drunk texting

Theo sighed, the weight of the night already pressing down on him. “Alright, we’re leaving. Now.”

“Noooo,” Liam whined, clinging to Theo’s arm like a lifeline. “I wanna stay with you.”

“You’re coming home with me,” Theo said firmly, steering Liam toward the door.

Liam stumbled along but managed to turn his head and grin at Theo. “Ohh, you’re taking me home?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that was absolutely ridiculous and not remotely endearing. “You gonna be all bossy there too? You know, I like that. Oh, or when you—”

Theo clamped a hand over Liam’s mouth, his patience wearing thin. Liam, of course, didn’t care, simply grinning behind Theo’s hand.

From the floor, Alec stared at them both, then pointed dramatically. “You two are fucking! I knew it!”

Theo leveled him with a sharp look. “Alec.”

Alec burst into uncontrollable giggles, tipping sideways until he was lying on the floor, clutching his stomach. Meanwhile, Liam peeled Theo’s hand away from his mouth and immediately intertwined their fingers, holding on like his life depended on it.

“Oops,” Liam said with mock innocence, “I didn’t mean to say that. But Alec can be your best man, so he can know!”

and here is 'late night driving', just a cute one-shot about theo and liam and how they finally (kinda) get their shit together. there's also a lake and a midnight swim and a shirtless, wet theo that makes liam almost have a heart attack 🙂‍↕️

late night driving

For a moment, he just stood there, toes sinking into the soft lakebed, feeling the gentle ripples lap against his skin. The moonlight reflected off the surface, and the whole place felt untouched, quiet, like time hadn’t moved since he was last here. He remembered his Mom laying in the sun, watching him run into the water, showing off his handstand. A small smile tugged at his lips.

“I loved being here,” Liam murmured, more to himself than to Theo. His voice softened. “It was so fun. Mom really laughed when we were here. Can’t believe I forgot about this lake.”

He turned back toward the truck, and Theo was watching him. His gaze was steady, unreadable, but there was something warm in it. A small, barely-there smile tucked at the corner of his lips, soft in a way Theo never really let himself be.

Liam swallowed, his heartbeat picking up like it always did when Theo looked at him like that. He pushed past it and grinned.

“C’mon,” Liam said. “Let’s go swimming.”

Theo didn’t move.

Instead, he scoffed, arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, no.”

Liam huffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re such a baby,” he muttered, stepping forward, letting the water rise higher around his calves. “What, scared you’ll melt?”

[faeyells]

I l being really fucking vague and metaphorical in my writing and then revealing in the end that HA, ITS WASN’T A VAGUE METAPHOR, IT WAS MAGIC MWAHAHHAHAH!!!

[everparanoid]

Headteacher! Wriothesley Moodbood

Fic: Since September

Headteacher! Wriothesley x Single parent Female! Reader

Rating: 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

ongoing word count: 33.3K

tags: fluff, smut, angst

cw: One Night Stands, Feel-good, Strangers to Lovers, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Weddings, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Dating, Minor Original Character(s), Private School, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe, Billionaires, breast worship as always, Semi-Public Smut, Bathroom Smut, Finger Sucking, Thumb-sucking, Blow Jobs, Breast Sucking, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Original Character(s), Your daughter is an OC, PWF, there are temporary crackships in here, beidou/clorinde crackship for like a blip, Reader is Not Traveler (Genshin Impact), No use of y/n

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that when it comes to men, you are colourblind. When a one-night stand with Wriothesley (a handsome stranger and certainly not your daughter’s new headteacher) evolves into a charade of fake-dating him - all in the name of getting your friends off your back and not looking as alone as you are at your ex’s extravagant destination wedding - you realise you’ve reached an unprecedented low. “The night is young. We are both free. What could possibly go wrong?” he asked. Tags will be updated with each chapter.

Yes, this is the fic spawned from that one line in the archon quest when Wriothesley mentions parent's evening.

my ao3: Everparanoid

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15...

status: ONGOING

masterlist

Reblogs w/ tags and comments are very much appreciated! If you enjoyed this, feel free to consider dropping a follow as well! <3

Also, if you like my writing and wish to support me, please consider funding me a Welkin via Ko-fi!

[staciesometimeswrites]

Several Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the ever amazing @jamieroyjamieroy

I'm not going to lie, I didn't have anything prepped for this that I haven't already posted, but here's something I'd like to work on. Enjoy.

-x-

“So maybe we both have daddy issues.”

“I don't.” 

“But you think I do?”

“God I hope so.”

Buck swallowed hard and grinned, hoping that his face didn’t show how hot that had just made him. Tommy looked at him with a smug little quirk of his lips as he took a deep sip of his wine, and Buck had to break eye contact before his ears began to steam like an old fashioned train. Under the table Tommy brushed his foot casually up and down his shin - not salaciously, more just for the contact - but Buck was already worked up. He had to strain really hard to not squirm. Never before had any of his past girlfriends made him so giddy so easily. Sure, Taylor was always up for a romp in the bed, but whenever they sat down for dinner, that’s all it was. Buck didn’t feel the need for subtle flirting, or casual touches.

He had liked her, maybe even loved her, but it was nothing compared to feeling like a fifteen year old boy with his first crush again.

The rest of dinner was a more subdued affair as they veered away from heavier topics. Tommy told Buck about the Mustang he’d been working on restoring after buying it dirt cheap. It had been in complete shambles, more parts missing than there, but Tommy was bringing it back to life. Last time Buck stopped by, he’d sat in the garage as his boyfriend worked under the hood, sipping on one of his fancy craft beers.

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

author ask tag

i'm a bit late but i wanted to make sure i did this one for everyone to get to know me better so thank you, @aalinaaaaaa @the-golden-comet, @goldfinchwrites @theink-stainedfolk, and @the-inkwell-variable for the tag!

i’ll be using novaxiom as a reference for some specific questions!

1️�� what’s the main lesson of your story?

existence is not passive. sound, motion, creation—none of it happens without a cost. novaxiom is about what it means to refuse erasure, to leave something behind even when silence is inevitable. syrin isn’t a hero, he’s not a chosen one—he’s a disruption. and that’s the point. because this isn’t a story about winning. it’s about what remains.

2️⃣ what did you use as inspiration for your world-building?

novaxiom started with research on sound—its physics, its impossibility to truly disappear, the way it lingers. i stripped the science down to its rawest form and rebuilt it as something alive. the frequencium became the foundation: sound as a force, a history, a living record of everything that’s ever moved.

psinorism is the opposite—not just silence, but stillness. not absence, but control. a locked world, preserved in place. sonoric sorcery moves, psinorism severs motion. they don’t just oppose each other—they define each other.

3️⃣ what’s your MC trying to prove?

syrin isn’t trying to be right. he’s trying to prove that movement is worth the risk. that sound—chaotic, unpredictable, relentless—is better than a world frozen in preservation. psinorians want to keep what remains. syrin wants to prove that a world afraid to change isn’t a world at all.

but… unrelenting motion is dangerous. sound consumes. and the deeper he goes into the frequencium, the harder it is to ignore why so many have chosen stillness instead.

4️⃣ chapter count so far?

novaxiom isn’t a single novel, it’s a chronicle. a layered, shifting history told through interwoven narratives. it’s still evolving, like frequencies colliding and separating across time. the chapter count will be whatever it needs to be.

5️⃣ fanfic or original? where are you posting?

original. novaxiom is entirely its own entity at this point. no borrowed worlds, no pre-existing frameworks. where it’s going? tbd. substack is an option. tumblr will always be home. but it’ll be posted where i feel the most comfortable, it definitely will be on ao3, but i want to make sure i try wattpad. but if anyone has any other suggestions for where to post my writing, don't hesitate to let me know in the replies or my dms!

6️⃣ when did you start writing this?

novaxiom has been an idea of mine for years, i could never figure out where to start! but the version that exists now? the one built on its own physics, cultures, plus its rejection of traditional fantasy?

that’s been solidifying all through 2024 and now 2025. what started as an idea about sound as magic turned into an entire system of existence and i’ve never been prouder of myself :)

7️⃣ words of encouragement for fellow writers?

creation is defiance. writing is resistance. every word we put down is our refusal to be silent. you don’t ever need permission or anyone’s validation. just write, make noise; and leave something personal and creative behind. you never know who you will touch with your words, and we owe it to ourselves as writers to see our thoughts through to fruition!!

this will be an open tag for anyone wanting to join, but i want to hear from these writers! so i will be tagging @slenders1ckn3ss @kaylinalexanderbooks @wyked-ao3 @leahpardo-da-veggie @ominous-faechild @dyrewrites @mjparkerwriting @seastarblue @glassfrogforest @unlivresanstitre @boosterseat3 and @radioregine !!

[venusbyline]

Sneak peek of my new smut one-shot 👀

Aemond Targaryen x brothel worker!reader

He did not want to hurt his mother's feelings, he did not want her to look at him with the same look of disgust she gave her eldest son. He wanted to keep making Alicent proud, being her beloved son. But Aemond had already failed with her the moment he decided to act like a spiteful boy and chase Lucerys through the skies. Now that he was a Kinslayer, his mother would fear him. She would be ashamed of him. I would see him as a murderer, cursing their whole family forever. And if Aemond could not seek love from the only woman who would take him in her arms and caress his hair, then he needed to find a replacement. An older woman who could make him feel safe and loved again.

[larvasmoon]

Snippet Sunday

Thank you for the tag @roguishcat and @lady-vincent <3

It was a bit of a struggle to find something from the next chapter of Portrait of the pale elf that is not too much of a spoiler, but here's a very small snippet!

No pressure tags: @karinamay @anacdoce @inkymoonbunny @bardic-inspo if there's something you'd like to share <3

[nereidof40k]

Another part of Sevatar and Khalid’s shenanigans on Macragge. Also features Alastor Rushal.

A bit further along they ran into Sev’s fellow Primaris, Alastor Rushal. Formerly Raven Guard. He had allowed Khalid’s people to return his ability to speak, which he mostly used to argue with Sevatar. The first time witnessing that, there had been bets the two would kill each other.

But it seemed that was just their way. Brawls both physical and verbal were what they liked. And on Rushal’s part, smacking Sevatar or picking him up when he got stuck in his own head.

It had actually gotten quite a few people over their worship of Sev, which did wonders for his ability to fit in with others, when they gave as good as they got.

“Raven, is that a puppy?” Sevatar raised his eyebrows.

“The Senator didn’t deserve her.” Alastor grunted. “Threw her outside for not being born housebroken. Thought Altani might like her own pet.”

Oh, that was devious. It was a fact that Altani Shedu had Sevatar wrapped around her little finger. He would do anything to make his little sister happy.

“Sure. “ Sevatar pet the puppy as they walked.

Passing a Rogue Trader’s mansion, the motley group stopped. Seemed Lady Anais was in residence.Sevatar stepped up to the ornate fence and waved at the woman collecting flowers in the garden.

“My Lady, I regret I didn’t bring any flowers, but a woman of your stature might prefer something sharper.”

With a theatrical flourish, like he had stepped out of a cheesy romance play, Sev presented Lady Anais with Lion’s sword, pressing his lips against her knuckles as she accepted the gift with a laugh.

“Oh, well done, I see you relieved that absolute pillock of the poor puppy. Maybe now we don’t have to listen to him screaming like a lunatic.”

The puppy licked Anais’ hand as she pet her.

“Do you have a collar for her? I’m certain I can find something.”

Alastor chuckled. “That would be great, I don’t think she would fit mine.”

Anais laughed again, opening the gate. “Come on in, I have those tarts you like so much, Sevatar.”

Perhaps not surprising that a self professed Nostraman gutter rat turned out to have a sweet tooth the size of the God Emperor’s ego. He would have been at risk for becoming spherical if he wasn’t a Primaris Marine, and a very strong willed one at that.

@beckyninja , @justanothermemestrider , @the-liars-art , you might like this.

[morallygreyintrovert]

My view for the day, finishing chapter 9 of my wip.

Cas and Dean in the background just causally hanging out.

[jamieroyjamieroy]

It’s nearly 10.30pm do I stay up and edit my bucktommy fic and possibly post the new chapter tonight or do I sleep like a normal person and do it tomorrow? Fresh eyes and all that?

[curiouspupsicle]

WIP Joy

If I had known how much fun writing fan fic is, I'd have done it years ago. In my upcoming fic, Aziraphale and Crowley are international racing sailors. Mrs. Sandwich makes an appearance as a sail and boat canvas maker. Aziraphale has to tell one of her "girls" that he only needs her to measure his settee for upholstering, NOT "measure his settee for upholstering." And Mrs. Sandwich's partner owns the local tow boat franchise. It's astonishing how many boats need a tow. Some break down at least once a week. This little bit is inspired by a fun-loving tow boat captain and his friends who recovered our dinghy in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay a few years back.