#t's wip wednesday

[happygo-writing]

Thank you for the tags @heartstringsduet @paperstorm @theghostofashton @taralaurel @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @strandnreyes @alrightbuckaroo @carlos-in-glasses and @bonheur-cafe for the tags! I'm going to post a few small sections of different fics because I don' thave much but I also want to share.

Piano Player and Photographer AU:

TK takes a long drag of his cigarette as he leans against his balcony railing and looks over at the city as the nighttime starts to take hold. He watches people leave buildings, meet up with friends, and listen to the parts of conversations that the soft breeze carries up to him. Usually the night sounds bring with it a sense of claming, but tonight it just reminds him how lonely he is. He sighs, flicking the ash off the tip of his cigarette, and looks around.

His thoughts drift back to Carlos and the photo session that he had with him that afternoon. There was something about the man that just drew TK to him. It was dangerous - the feelings that stirred in his gut when he thought about him. Especially knowing that Carlos isn’t single and TK can’t act on them even if he wanted to. He knows that he’s going to have to get the photos edited fast so he can push Carlos out of his life before TK gets ideas of things he’d want to happen.

TK always hates how quickly he can become attached to people, it’s always been his downfall.

Breeding Kink

He couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of breeding TK, of filling him full of his come, and getting him knocked up. Of course, that wasn’t realistic because they were both males incapable of getting pregnant, but that didn’t matter. Carlos found the idea hot and once he started to think about it he really couldn’t stop.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he bit back the moan that was threatening to bubble up at his thoughts. His cock had groaned hard in his pants just from the thought of having TK beneath him, breeding him and filling him full of his come. It was hard not to sneak a hand between his legs to get some relief, but he held back because he doesn’t want TK to ask him questions about what had him so riled up.

If TK asked him, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from blurting out what he wanted to do to him and revealing the kink that he had. If he did that and TK didn’t like the kink or was uncomfortable with the thought it would make the rest of the ride back to the house awkward and Carlos wouldn’t be able to handle that.

So he kept his eyes on the road and willed himself to think of something else so he didn’t end up making a fool of himself. He wasn’t sure how they make it home without TK noticing what was going on with Carlos but he’s thankful for the moment he’s spared himself any embarrassment for the moment.

They parked the car in their usual spot and Carlos all but drags TK to the elevator. When the doors shut behind them, Carlos yanked TK into a searing kiss, desperate to get his hands on his fiancee and fuck him senseless.

“Somebody’s really turned tonight,” TK teased against his lips, slipping a hand underneath Carlos’ sweater.

“Can’t help it,” Carlos groaned into the kiss, pressing his hips against TK’s so that he could feel how hard he was in his jeans. “You’re just so fucking hot and fiancee sex is better than boyfriend sex.”

“Imagine how hot husband sex is going to be.”

Carlos groaned again, rolling his hips against TK’s. He kissed along the length TK’s jaw and pressed his face into the crook of his neck, nuzzling at the spot that he was obsessed with. His thoughts kept going back to the thought of breeding TK and he had to bite his tongue to not say it out loud.

“Fuck baby, what got you going tonight? You’re so needy,” TK teased, sliding his hand down Carlos’ chest to cup his cock. He squeezed it just on the side of too hard. 

“You, fuck, it’s just you,” Carlos gasped into his mouth and it was mostly the truth. He rutted shamelessly into TK’s hand until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He yanked himself away with the last bit of his self-control and grabbed TK’s hand, pulling him into their bedroom.

TK POV Breakup Era Fic

That night when TK got home, he found that all of Carlos’ things had been moved out of the room they had been sharing and that the only thing that had been left behind was a letter from Carlos. It lay in the center of the bed, taunting him for the longest time before TK picked it up and opened it, reading the last words he was sure he’d ever get from Carlos.

TK,

I feel stupid writing this, but since you’re ignoring every other bit of communication I have attempted with you I thought it wouldn’t hurt. The worst you could do is throw the letter away without looking at it, and even then I probably wouldn’t know.

But on the off chance that you’ll read this…

I’m sorry that I bought the place before I spoke to you about it, that wasn’t the best move on my part. But I don’t think it warrants ending our relationship without a proper discussion. I thought we had agreed to talk to each other when things got tough. You told me that you were done running, not that I’m surprised you did it again because that’s what you always do when things go the opposite of your way or things get too hard.

I don’t know why you won’t talk to me about this. I want to understand what I did that was so wrong, I want to talk to you and show you that I’m NOT like Alex - or any other pass boyfriend you’ve had - and never would be. You know I’m not, and I know you said that as a way to hurt me. It did.

I don’t want to let you go, TK. Let me fight for you. Let’s talk about this. Hell, let’s fight about this if you want but we need to talk about it because this isn’t the end. I don’t understand why you’re letting this be the thing that breaks up after we’ve gone through so much together.

I love you, TK. I always will.

Don’t shut me out and ruin a good thing. I’ll sell the loft if you want me too. We’ll live with your dad until we find a place that we can both afford. I’ll do that because I did mean it when I said that I didn’t care where we lived as long as it was together. I just want to be with you.

Please, don’t let this be the end. We can work through this. 

I…

I just want you.

I’ve moved out to give you space and I’m staying at the loft for the time being in case you want to come by and talk about this. You can also call me. Or text me. 

Just… let me know, please?

I love you,

Carlos.

Unnamed Fic I am still unsure I will ever post:

TK is desperate, that’s the only reason he picks up his phone.

It’s been weeks since he’s been able to get off and his cock is so hard that it hurts and not in a fun way. 

He has tried, many times, to get off but all he manages to do is get himself riled up and desperate. Nothing he does, no amount of porn he watches, or thoughts of Carlos helps him to get off.

TK needs Carlos.

He can’t come without him.

It’s pathetic and he knows it.

He strokes his cock again, whining at how close he is but it’s not enough. It’s not enough when he swipes his thumb over the slit-like he likes. It’s not enough when he tugs on his balls. It’s not even enough when he wraps his hand around his own throat and tries to choke an orgasm out of himself. It’s not enough when he pushes two fingers into his hole and fucks himself on them.

It’s not enough.

He whimpers, pathetic tears filling his eyes as he fumbles with his phone, pulling up his contacts and clicking Carlos’ name that’s still at the top - forever a favorite because TK refuses to change it.

His breath is shaky as it rings, hoping that by any chance Carlos will answer and not hate him for what he’s going to ask. He’s not sure that Carlos will have any fond feelings when he asks him to help TK get off, but TK is desperate and his mind is too clouded with the need to come to think straight.

Carlos answers after four rings.

“TK?” His voice, silky and smooth floats over the line and TK can’t help the sob that comes out. His cock jerks hard, perking up at the sound of Carlos’ voice.

It’s so pathetic that just hearing Carlos’ voice is almost enough.

“Carlos,” he sobs out in a whine.

He hears rustling on the other line. “TK are you okay?”

“I need, fuck, please don’t hate me,” TK whines as his hand finds his cock again. He aches so much that he can’t think straight. “Help me come, please.”

There’s a pause and then Carlos’ voice comes out colder than it had before.

“You’re calling me because you’re a whore who can’t come on his own?”

Being called a whore shouldn’t send shivers down TK’s spine or make him moan the way it does, but it does and he just has to live with that. He wants Carlos to say it again, to tell him what a whore he is. He wants Carlos to degrade him, to tell him that he’s useless and not even good enough to be a hole to come in - he should probably unpack that in therapy sometime.

“Y-yes,” TK stutters. “I’m desperate. Please. I need it. It hurts. I need it so badly.”

For a few long moments, there’s nothing but silence and Carlos’ breathing on the other end. He whimpers, biting his lip to try to stop from crying out but it’s hard not to.

“We’re not doing this on the phone,” Carlos finally says. “If you want to come, you can come here.”

There’s a click and then the line goes silent. 

No pressure tags: @sanjuwrites @detective-giggles @meditating-honey-badger @thebumblecee @a-j-cowwley @basilsunrise @mooshkat @catanisspicy @ambiguouspenny @liminalmemories21 @lightningboltreader @mikibwrites @freneticfloetry @hoko-onchi-writes @largepeachicedtea @kiloskywalker @three-drink-amy @rosedavid and anyone else who would like to do this

[melioristicbeast]

it's WIP wednesday my dudes!

the as-always inspired file names are 'car nap' ('2 kinds of backseat nappers - the arms-and-legs-crossed and the ragdoll corpse' with more music headcanons), 'pool baseball' (an excuse to draw the body types i imagine for the boys), 'lofi' (self-indulgent cover for my Stiles playlist on spotify lol), and 'iA2' (2nd it's alive sequence) - last is a shot of the comic I'm working on, blocking in colors for the current page [:

derek may be my favorite character on the show but stiles is clearly my favorite to draw LOL. he's just a funny little guy.

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

I keep meaning to finish this sketch of Malleus and Borrower!Syn, but everytime I try I end up just putting it aside for something else. However, it's Wednesday, my dudes

[emicat1159]

Wip Wednesday <3

Thank you for tagging me @firefly-factory ^-^

This isn't about astor this time sorry guys

I have two wips because I've been switching between working on both for the past few days

*sigh* of course it's him 😔

The second one is more practice for me of my more detailed style portrait, which I've got the basic form down right now but it'll take some time. The one on the left is a very indulgent sketch of my self insert with my boy so like... I have no explanation

But yeah that's all I've got

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @homerforsure for wip Wednesday! Since I already killed Bobby once I’m thinking about the ramifications of him coming back….

The headline of the first article reads BELOVED FIRE CAPTAIN HONORED AFTER TRAGIC LOSS. LAFD captain Robert Nash was not a Los Angeles local, the text starts, but in his near-decade working for the city he made a huge impact. Having worked through every major disaster of the last few years, words of thanks and praise have poured out from citizens he worked tirelessly to save and fellow firefighters who were with him in the field. Not only

The newspaper is folded here. Eddie remembers the big picture they had right in the middle of it, Bobby in uniform from the LAFD website. He looked all stiff, had that strange swollen smile he alway had in photos he had to pose for. The top of it shows over the crease. Eddie doesn’t turn it over.

MIRACLE ON FOURTH STREET the second article declares. Bobby had made a face at the joke when Chimney had shown it to him in the hospital, and they’d all cracked up. LAFD fire captain Robert Nash, thought dead after last week’s gas explosion downtown, was found alive after four days buried under rubble from the blast. Rushed to Cedars Sinai in critical condition, this firefighter with nine lives is now

A fold in the paper. The photo had been of the 118 this time. Bobby’s smile was much more genuine, standing there with them all. Buck was standing next to him and even in the grainy newspaper reproduction his face was a little blurry because the camera had gone off as he was turning to look at him. You can still tell he was smiling, though.

Eddie doesn’t turn this one over, either. He stacks it carefully back under the first, and hides them where he found them in Buck’s drawer. Living out of a duffle bag tucked into the corner of what used to be- is- used to be his living room hasn’t proved particularly difficult, but he has lost track of all but one sock apart from the desperation pair with the holes in the toes. He figured Buck wouldn’t mind him borrowing a less threadbare option. Eddie closes the drawer empty handed and goes out to the living room, grabs the old pair. Follows the noises of metal whisk against metal bowl into the kitchen. Holds them up.

“I gotta do laundry, man.”

Buck looks over at them, a smile tugging his face around at the sight of the socks. “I’ll put in a load later,” he says, no particular inflection to his voice. Why would there be one? They’re just talking about laundry.

“Okay,” Eddie says.

“Cool,” Buck says. He turns back to his work.

Tagging @eddiesgaymustache @eddiebabygirldiaz @devirnis @iinryer @colonoscopys @shitouttabuck @kananjarus @ whoever’s got something to share!

[ectoentity]

WIP Wednesday: Bartender Danny

This fic got 28 votes, which means 78 lines. I can't finish it all in one go, so I'm gonna break it up. Here are the first 28 lines.

The first patron came in when Mo unlocked the door at five. Old Jim was a bum who would stumble through multiple bars in a night before passing out on a chair and getting thrown out. Mo liked the guy, as long as he came in early. "Hey, Mo," Jim mumbled. He looked blearily at Danny. "You get a new guy already?" Jim took a seat at the bar. "Trial run." Danny smiled at Jim and gave a little wave. What the hell. "Hi! I'm Danny. Can I get you anything?" Jim gave Mo a look like he thought she was yanking his chain. "Yeah, sure. Gimme a Miller." Danny took out a clean glass and filled it from the draft, held just like Mo had showed him so it got a clean pour instead of a whole glass of fizz. He slid it over to Jim with a napkin. "There you go. Want to start a tab?" Jim laughed. "Hell, Mo, you better hope this one doesn't get killed in a week. Yeah, start me up a tab." Danny seemed to ignore the comment about him dying. He just went to the register and put in the information from Jim's card. Mo scowled at Jim and made a cutting motion. Last thing she needed was for her new hire to find out his predecessor got cut down by some Penguin goons right outside the bar.

[firefly-factory]

WIP Wednesday!

Thanks for tagging me @skyrim-forever @thequeenofthewinter @theoneandonlysemla @pocket-vvardvark @lillxart I love seeing what yall have been working on <3

Pretty late so I'm not sure who's already been tagged, but I'll go ahead and get @emicat1159 @changelingsandothernonsense and @edgy-dragon-trash No pressure as always :)

So I'm still in skyrim brain today, with some college of winterhold shenanigans! Orthorn is the most pituful character i know and so I had to write something about him. Not sure how far I'll go with this, but thought I'd share nevertheless. Below the cut for length

-

Orthorn disappeared in the wee smalls of the morning, although it was only hours later, after two meals had passed, that anyone noticed he was missing. It was not unusual for students at the College of Winterhold to wander. Beyond that, it was not terribly unusual for students to disappear.

To put it bluntly, there was little interest in Orthorn, or his disappearance, until weeks after the event. Even then, they were more interested in what he had disappeared with, rather than why he had vanished in the first place.

He was a weak-willed man, known for blindly following anyone more powerful than him (which is to say, anyone at all). The few impressions he left were those of vague association, which made investigation that much harder.

In the initial stages of the investigation the students were asked simply, "Has anyone seen Orthorn recently?"

However, more often than not the answer was simply, "Who?"

"Orthorn."

"No, I don't think so."

Occasionally they would talk to someone with a clearer recollection of the mer, though even then it was in association with someone else:

"Wasn't he the fellow who used to follow Yisra around before she vanished? Nope, haven't seen him in ages."

A spare handful were less surprised to hear he was missing, and more shocked that it was a (relatively) recent event.

"Wait. He still goes here?"

"Apparently not. Went missing or something."

"Huh. Oh by the way, did you hear Collete's tirade about those notes? Apparently. . ."

All in all, there were few people who had noticed Orthorn, and even fewer who noticed he was gone. Poor sod.

-

[hellyeenbeans]

[lphaneuf]

Wednesday again

The gray will be a sleeveless turtleneck, cast on a couple of weeks ago. Stalled while waiting for help from the designer. So I cast-on a quick tee. This one has yarn issues. While waiting for a shipment, I went back to the gray. So now I'm going back and forth nicely and have two nearly complete tops.

There's a lot of cotton here. They will need some blocking attention.

[tgmsunmontue]

I & P for T/G/M

WORK: I wrote 91 words (you didn't ask for work, and also I was chatting with someone... they know who they are... 😅)

IN:

“I want to fly.” Carole’s stomach drops, skin suddenly cold. No. No no no. The idea of being given another folded flag. She can’t have that.

PROGRESS: This fic is still in its infancy because I am not sure there's much of a plot to speak of (other than simply reconciling Bradley with his brother and Maverick), other than tweaking each universe to make Jake and Tyler twins, and also Levi and Bradley twins. As the mum of twin boys I am very much enjoying writing the different twin dynamics I see as a mother, from that closeness, and competitiveness, to the constant picking at each other to the fierce protectiveness...

For those of you that are unaware, the T/G/M fid refers to this post right here.

[happygo-writing]

thank you to @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo and @carlos-in-glasses for tagging me!

Here is some more of my Tarlos Honeymoon at home fic!

“Why are you looking at flights? Planning to run away from me so soon?” TK teases softly.

Carlos shakes his head and looks at TK, “No, I was thinking that there’s still time to book a flight to Hawaii or Arubia or somewhere.”

“Why? We don’t need a flight, we’re staying home.”

Carlos shrugs and pulls his gaze away.

“I just feel bad that you’re not getting your dream honeymoon.”

“My dream honeymoon is wherever you are.”

“You were so excited a few months ago about maybe going to Hawaii. I know you had your heart set on that -”

“Carlos,” TK cuts him off. He sits up and turns his body fully and reaches out, grabbing Carlos’ chin and pulling his face to look at TK. “I am happy right here with you. I do not need some big, lavish honeymoon to celebrate being able to love you for the rest of my life. As long as I have you by my side I’ll be happy.”

“You deserve -”

“What I deserve is the man that’s in the bed next to me. If you’ve changed your mind and want to go someplace, we can. But don’t change your mind because you think that’s what I want. I just want to be next to you and it doesn’t matter where we are.”

Carlos sighs and locks his phone, turning it face down on the bedside table. He looks away from TK, playing with his own fingers.

“None of this is how we planned for it to be,” Carlos says after a few moments. “Nothing happened the way that we dreamed it would.”

“Sometimes things don’t work out that way, but we still got married in the end. That’s what matters, right?” TK asks softly. He wonders if Carlos might finally let himself feel some of the grief that’s been building for days.

no pressure tags: @paperstorm @thebumblecee @mooshkat @cowlos-reyes @detective-giggles @noxsoulmate @largepeachicedtea @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @otter-love-asl @strandbuckley @bonheur-cafe @lightningboltreader @bubblesandroses8 @hoko-onchi-writes @sanjuwrites @meditating-honey-badger

[spurious]

w for live oak 5!!!!

I added 349 words!!! here are a handful of them:

The addition of Ronon to the team means Sheppard has one more person to do sweaty, athletic stuff with, but he still comes to Rodney to hang out, to play games, to watch movies, and—41.368% of the time, not that Rodney's keeping close track—to have sex.

[anchoredarchangel]

Thank you @indestructibleheart, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @getmehighonmagic, @kiwiana-writes, @cha-melodius, @firenati0n, @inexplicablymine & @affectionatelyrs for the tags!

Not my typical WIP Wednesday but… tomorrow 🤍

An open tag to anyone out there with something to share 💫

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

I don't have a snappy/witty phrase or anything to justify posting a tiny bit of a wip on a Saturday but like. It's my blog and my writing, I don't have to justify anything 🥰 As I feared would happen, I'm quickly running out of steam now that my NieYao 'increasingly gory wet dream sex' fic idea has grown multiple plots so here, have a snippet from the beginning of it, before I complicated things for myself.

--//--

“Go on,” Nie Mingjue rumbles in his ear, and if he says something else to coax him into coming, Meng Yao can’t hear it over the high pitched ringing and his pulse thundering in his ears. He grinds down into the bed, mouth locked open and his throat tight around a needy, helpless groan – and he comes all over himself and the bed like a teenager.

Meng Yao’s eyes snap open and his hips go still as he pants for breath, heart racing and his fist tugging at his own hair. He lays there for a long moment in which he doesn’t even process his alarm going off, but when his brain stutters online again he fumbles his free hand in the vicinity of his nightstand until the alarm stops, his phone clattering and thunking to the floor in a way he hopes hasn’t cracked his screen any further.

“Oh my god,” he exhales, eyes drifting shut again as he pants like he’d just run a mile and tries to figure out what to do. He came in the dream but his cock in reality is still painfully hard and leaking all over his sleep shorts, and while he might have imagined the orgasm (and the man who gave it to him), everything else is pretty much the exact fucking same. He’s laying on his belly, one leg up to stretch deep into his hips, and there’s a wet patch on his pillow from his mouthing and biting that makes him wince when he presses his cheek to it in the process of burying his face again in horny embarrassment.

[ectoentity]

WIP Wednesday: The Night Will Come but Not to Stay

So far we have 3 votes for this fic.

"Hey, are you... okay?" the ghost asked. "Absolutely not," Jazz droned. She grabbed the ghost by her red jacket and dragged her into a booth in the cafeteria area. "Is the world ending?" "What? No." The ghost sat down across from Jazz and stroked her hair back into place. "I'm looking for Johnny. Have you seen him?" "I haven't--" The name hit Jazz a second later. She groaned. "Johnny? Seriously?" She took another look at the ghost in front of her. "Wait, aren't you the one who--" "Yeah, look, can we let bygones be bygones?" asked Johnny's girlfriend quickly. "I tried to possess you, your brother beat the crap out of me and my boyfriend. It's all even, right?"

[firefly-factory]

WIP Wednesday!

Thank y'all for tagging me @hircines-hunter @skyrim-forever @changelingsandothernonsense @theoneandonlysemla and @thequeenofthewinter <3 <3

Pretty late, but I'll tag @emicat1159 @pocket-vvardvark and @edgy-dragon-trash if you guys have anything you'd like to share :D

For my own WIP I have a snippet of what might be a new fic 🙈

This is when Astor was still a really young kid, and is actually set shortly after this comic. I'm thinking of expanding on some of the stuff I drew in prose-form, and sort of see where this goes <3

~

Leah awoke in total darkness. This was the way she normally woke, and in fact the way everyone in the hamlet awoke, so there was nothing to indicate that something was wrong. She sat up, rubbing her eyes blearily, and reached for her bedside table, where she usually kept a glass of water.

She felt slightly disoriented, her limbs still heavy with sleep, and it took a few fumbling attempts before she realized that the cup wasn’t there. Huh. She must have been more upset than she realized, last night. She fought back a yawn and picked up her hairbrush, still moving in the dark. This part of her routine at least—

“Gah!” The brush clattered to the floor. A shadow stood at the foot of her bed, dark in darkness, totally still, and for one terse moment her half-asleep mind imagined a demon creeping through the house, first going for the neighbors, then for her, and finally for . . . “Astor, sweetheart. You startled me.”

A small squeak, like a mouse getting stepped on. And then he stumbled forwards and she could still hardly see him, but she could feel the way his small form trembled as he wrapped his arms around her. She ran her fingers across the top of his head, holding him tightly to her chest. The front of her shirt dampened, but his sobs were almost entirely silent. She rocked back and forth slowly, trying to remember the last time he had cried like this.

Gradually his shaking slowed. She shifted one arm, keeping the other tightly around him. “I’m going to turn on a light, okay love?”

He nodded, whimpering softly. Leah pressed a kiss to his forehead, then reached for the lamp. She touched a fingertip to the wick, pursing her lips in concentration. A moment later, warm light flickered merrily across the room. She withdrew her hand, momentarily sucking at the hot pad of her finger with a wince, then turned back to Astor. Her heart just about broke in two.

His coin-bright eyes were red and swollen; his cheeks were streaked with tears. She brushed the hair out of his face and cupped his cheek with her hands. “Oh sweetheart, tell me what happened. Did you have a nightmare?”