#the rest can fuck off im not tagging the wip

[chess-draws]

this weeks oc art dump! yay. plus a wip that im procrastinating on

[firstprincehornyramblings]

WEEEEEEEEEEE Hello, I hope everyone is having a lovely Sunday. I feel like I haven't done a Sentences Sunday in years! Thrilled to be back, with Sugar Baby Alex, AND a new WIP. Things are under the cut so this isn't the longest post in history.

-

Let's get into it with Sugar Baby Alex first, shall we?:

“Alex, I am not ‘putting you off’, I am thirty-eight years old, I do not have that glorious refractory period you have, anymore,” the blond huffed, “As much as I would love to go again right now, and believe me, I would, it’s impossible. So, surely you can wait until this evening when we can both get hard, hm?” “Damn,” Alex whispered, “That fucking sucks actually, I didn’t know fucking an old dude would have drawbacks. So, like positive is that you can make me cum like never before but negative is that your dick has a tim-MMPHM!” That sentence was cut short by Henry picking up a pillow and pressing it into the brunette’s face, holding it in place for a moment as Alex flailed, “Such a mouth on you, I’m almost certain I liked it better full,” he teased before lifting that pillow, “Don’t make me confirm your sister and friend’s worst fear.” “Oh baby,” Alex laughed, smiling so wide now that he was free of the pillow, “Killing me with a pillow is so intimate though, that’s incredibly sexy of you.” “Shut up, Alex!” “Make me!”

AND new WIP time, Doctor Alex :)

What Henry was not expecting was for the door to open and the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his life to walk in. He was fairytale prince level tall dark and handsome. Even in the scrubs, his physic was broad and built, and the long-sleeved shirt under his scrub top fit tight around wide biceps. He had coal colored, luxurious curls, high cheeks, and obscene lashes over gorgeous brown eyes. His jawline was sharp, covered in a few days’ worth of stubble. Miles of tanned skin, the same dark hair on his forearms, large hands that he was currently slipping into gloves. The few inches of exposed wrist from slightly pulled up sleeves made Henry feel like he was seeing something pornographic. But anything to keep himself from locking eyes on those incredibly soft looking lips. “Hi, I’m Alex, it’s nice to meet you.” Ah, Henry remembered reading something about Alexander the Great being the son of Zeus. Yes, a demigod, right here in Oxford, that made sense. No, wait, that accent- “You’re American?” Henry blurted out before he could stop himself. If asked, he would blame it on this man’s, well- everything. “Yeah, sorry,” Alex laughed, “Always forget that catches ya'll off guard, I’m from Texas. I’m going into clinical medicine, but I’d like to travel, work with the Red Cross and do outreach things; help with natural disasters and pandemics. It’ll be easier for me to break into that if I do the rest of medical school and residency in Europe.” “Oh.” “But that’s not why you’re here, hm, Mr. Fox? May I touch you?” the brunette asked stepping closer to the exam table Henry was sitting on. “Please. Erm, I mean, uhm, yes please, go ahead.”

-

🏷️(no pressure tags darlings)

@taste-thewaste @onthewaytosomewhere @henrysfox

@mikibwrites @eusuntgratie

@softboynick @catdadacd @sheepywritesfics

@henryspearl

@basil-bird @caressthosecheekbones

@henfox @anti-homophobia-cheese @redlipstickandglitter

@thesleepyskipper @tailsbeth-writes @thighzp @lfg1986-2

+ literally anyone else I'm tired and forgot. (Im queueing this at 2am) or anyone who sees this and wants to tag me, I love reading yall's stuff. <3

[diazsdimples]

🩰🤠🤸‍♂️🫃🧗‍♂️⚕️❄️🕵️‍♂️👨‍🍼

lol this might be too much but im so interested in every wip 😅

😅 3 sentences of everything! Right away!

🩰 - Ballet AU

“You could probably do with some competition,” Tommy replies with a smirk. Buck definitely feels like he’s intruding now. Eddie’s hand runs down Tommy’s chest as he hums in agreement, and their lips meet in a chaste kiss.

🤠 - Bathena Ranch AU

Bobby wrenches the screen from Buck’s grasp, hurriedly exiting the game. His face burns, as though he’s been caught watching something NSFW, rather than building his dream home on a game designed for people with god complexes. “I wasn’t playing a video game,” he responds, keeping an outwardly cool exterior.

🤸‍♂️ - Olympics AU

Buck lines himself up and takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes and pictures himself running down the stretch between him and the vault, imagines his body twisting as he jumps – his ritual before any routine. Now, if he could just be normal in front of Tommy Kinard and not fuck this vault up, that would be great.

🫃- The Birth Fic (Buddietommyshannon)

“He’s just taking a bath, Eddie, he’s fine. Little Miss kept him up kicking all night so he’s probably just relaxing a bit,” Tommy replies, running a hand through Eddie’s hair. Eddie opens his mouth but Shannon cuts him off, the hand that had originally been resting on her belly coming to stroke across Eddie’s arm.

🧗‍♂️ - Disaster Date Fic

Something pings in the back of Tommy’s brain, and he understands how it looks. A 9-1-1 call which involves her brother’s boyfriends – it’s understandable Maddie’s a little terse. “Evan’s fine, he’s at home,” Tommy prefaces, getting that bit out of the way first.

⚕️ - Doctor AU

“Actually, he’s due to trial a bottle now, if you wanted to give that a go?” Eddie looks up at Buck, bewildered. Sure he’s got his own experience with babies in the NICU – his son had spent a lot of time there in his first months of life – but this is so far out of his area of expertise

❄️- Frostpunk AU

Eddie sighs, resting his splintered hands on his thighs. Buck will find out one way or another, it’s best it happens sooner or later. “Fine,” he begins.

🕵️‍♂️ - Man in the High Castle AU

He swallows thickly, laying the receiver back down again, and hastily makes his way from the room. It’s finally happening, he’s finally going to be of some use in this damn fight! A chance to stick it to his parents after years of ignoring him, treating him like he’s no more than an insect on a rug.

👨‍🍼 - Ranch AU (Alfieverse)

“I’m sure Alfie will be a very well-behaved boy,” Bobby smirks, looking between Buck and Tommy. “He’ll sleep in until 8am and then very politely ask if he can open his presents.” “Not with Evan’s DNA in there he won’t,” Tommy grins, and Buck feels himself flush.

Tagging @hippolotamus and @theotherbuckley as my obligatory "I wrote something please love me" tag and @slightlyobsessedwitheverything because Alfie and the twins!!

Make Me Write!

[sevikagf]

WIP // LAST LINE // MUSIC MONDAY

all in one bc i'm so so behind but i was tagged by @imogenkol @ruvviks, @g0dspeeed @tommyarashikage (i think that was everyone im sorry) to post wips and last lines of wips and idk what music monday is but like lets goooo

there's a lot in this so i'm so sorry lmao its been awhile since i've posted a wip or even finished writing a fic wow

some ronan x ellis i started writing on the plane a month ago

“Did you find it?” He called from the kitchen.  She hadn’t, for her attention was caught by something else. Underneath a stack of books was a wanted poster with a crude drawing and her name in bold letters - her name she knew, but the rest of the words on the page was unreadable. The eyes were too dark, the scars more angry and grotesque, and the hair was short. It was clear this was the work of someone who hadn't seen her in person but only heard the frightened words of bystanders who caught sight of her. Word of her infamy wouldn’t have reached as far as the small town of Faith and how he had come by a poster of her was unclear. Ellis holds the paper steady in her hands, eyeing the curve of the other woman's smile before turning around and heading back for the kitchen.  Ronan looks up and his curiosity falters as their eyes met. “Ms. Cooper?” She drops the poster in front of him and pins it to the table with her knife, the blade through the caricature's throat. With the other hand she grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him closer. “Where did you get this?” A quick glance to the paper and back. He holds his hands up and attempts to calm her rage down. “I can explain, but you have to let me go.” “I don’t think so. You can talk just fine like this.”

uuuuh rian / maxi / ghost anyone?

"Those two seem to be getting close lately." "Who is?" Ghost questions with clear disinterest, not even glancing towards his friend. A soft hum is his answer before any verbal response. He was hesitating. "Sinclair and Brennan." His gaze flickers to his friend and then follows the direction he is looking to find the two in question standing beside each other. The Irishman has his arm draped over the woman's shoulders, leaning down close. Maxine has the faintest hint of a smile on her lips but she doesn't shrug the man off. Rian's hand brushes over hers as he takes the knife she held and flips it around. Ghost feels his hand twitch and he's thankful for his mask to hide what he could only assume would be the expression of annoyance. "So? That's good she's getting along with someone." "Is it?" Soap teases, shrugging as he stands from his seat. "Then I better do the same - what if they get married? Then he'll be family."

LAST LINE(s)

"For fucks sake, Theo. How many people are you sleeping with? Next, you're going to tell me you're fucking one of the Seeds, huh?" Nathaniel can't conceal his anger - no, not his anger, but frustration for having such a reckless niece. Theo clicks her tongue and crosses her arms over her chest. "Really don't think this is something I should be discussing with my uncle." A stifling moment of silence doesn't have time to settle when Nathaniel speaks again. "You're not going to deny fucking one of the Seeds?"

and lastly my music monday contribution, enjoy this

tagging everyone again i'm sorry @strangefable @anoramactir @firstaidspray @pitchmoss @pavus @florbelles @carrionsflower @thedeadthree @roberthouse69 @carlosoliveiraa @shellibisshe @statichvm @risingsh0t @hollytanaka @confidentandgood @leviiackrman @bigbywlf @samuelroukin @cryptcombat @beemot @tekehu @evilvvithin @red-nightskies @pheedraws

[taglist opt in]

i apologize that this is writing and not everyone wanted to be tagged in writing but if you have any wips or just want to do the music thing, that's fine to!!

[wildwren]

wip wednesday

thanks for the tag @brynnmclean! ive been excited to share a bit from my dystopia au . who knows when ill be ready to post any of this, but honestly working on it has been getting me through. anyway, the set-up for this fic is kind of complicated, and due to a recent unfortunate comment i received, im having some doubts about whether my writing is comprehensible at all sooooo

general wip notes: galadriel is missing, saubrand is under investigation for it, they're exes.

general wip worldbuilding notes: This fic takes place in the aftermath of a major cultural conflict, much like the Second Age of Middle-earth. After a technological arms race, the Noldorin system of geoengineering proved dominant over (and destructive to) the resource-intensive Melkorian industrialism. Now, the Noldor organize their society into great towering havens where they may rule over the sky, known as the Beacons. The people on the Ground survive in a state of post-industrial informal feudalism, closely surveilled by the bureaucratic Noldorin system.

here's a snippet of Saubrand and his complicated criminal bestie Thuringwethil (who i decided is not a butch lesbian, but a high femme tgirl lesbian. in case you were wondering.)

“Anyway,” Wethil says, before Halbrand can start. “I didn’t even know you’d been picked up until yesterday, and by then, they'd let you go, right? Or close enough anyway. I was at a gathering.”  Halbrand’s curiosity snags on her evasive tone. “What gathering? Where? Did you make any useful trades?” “No. You wouldn’t have enjoyed it.” She studies the beds of her milk-white nails. “It was down at Udûn.”  “Eurgh,” Halbrand says, not shocked but disappointed. “You haven’t joined that cult, have you?” He imbues the words with as much disdain as he can manage.  “Oh, stop it. They’re not that bad.”  Halbrand makes a face. “What sort of self-respecting Melko makes his disciples call him ‘Father’? That’s Noldo bullshit.”  “Maybe he’s not an old-school Melkorian,” Wethil says.  “I rest my case.” “He’s much less your enemy than some others who you hold more dear.” Wethil raises her dark eyebrows meaningfully.  “About that.” Halbrand turns, pours a shot of his own, and shoots it back in the time it takes Wethil to crack each of her shoulder joints, and her jaw. They both know they’re getting to the business. “Friend,” Halbrand says, turning back to her with a smile. “Do you remember, by any chance, whether we saw each other on or around the night of February 18th?” He lifts his empty glass once. “You’ve always had a keener memory than mine.”  Wethil’s not immune to flattery (he knows this), but her eyes narrow now. “Why are you asking?”  “I have…a gap, that’s all.”  “A gap?”  “I don’t remember what I was doing on the night of the 18th. Or the day after. Or the day after that.”  “I don’t understand.” “For – fuck’s sake! That’s the night the missing Noldo disappeared! And I don’t have an alibi.”  Wethil stares at him for a moment, then snorts. “‘The missing Noldo.’ Listen to you. Who cares if you don’t have an alibi? They’ll get you for it one way or the other, if that’s what they want. I’m not about to present myself at a Beacon for testimony.”  “What if I did something to her?” The words explode from his mouth, too long buried, chewed over in silence. He should’ve done another sweep for any plants before spewing off about this topic. Either way, it’s too late now.  “What if I…hurt – the Noldo.”  “Oh, Sau,” Wethil says, tilting her head once to the side, using that name that sets Halbrand’s skin crawling. “You’re worried about her.”  “I’m not, really. Galadriel can take care of herself.”  “Galadriel!” Wethil exaggerates each syllable with a sadistic sort of glee. “Your girlfriend.”  “She’s not my girlfriend.”  “She was sort of your girlfriend. And now she’s your ex-girlfriend, who you may or may not have murdered. You have to admit, it’s a little bit funny.”  Sauro – Halbrand throws his ceramic cup at the far wall beside Thuringwethil’s head. It explodes in a shower of clay dust.  “Alright then,” Wethil says, nonplussed. “Not funny. Wasn’t she obsessed with you? Who’s to say she’s not fucking with you now?”  Halbrand is in better control of his emotions, now. “The thought has occurred to me.”

tagging @mirdaniaa because i need to see more snippets from your eregion fic. and anyone else you wants to do it!!! please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future! i just try not to be annoying lmao

[butchdiaz]

seven(teen) sentence sunday!

yes, im late. yes, i've been tagged in so many wip games by yall for MONTHS im sorry i ghosted i just stopped writing for a while :') picked up drunk cuddling au the other night when i couldn't sleep though so. here u go. have some abby fic. who knows when you'll get more.

Eddie shrugs, “I don't know, I don't think a real pro would get so thrown off by something small.” “Something–” Buck stutters, “Fuck off. You almost gave me a heart attack.” “Just admit you suck at pool.” “No.” “Admit it.” “Nope. Never.” They’re standing so close, Eddie can see Buck’s pupils dilate as he pouts at him, smug and infuriatingly cute. Eddie ducks away behind him before he does something stupid, like kiss Buck’s dumb little frown right off of his face.  “It's okay to not be good at something you know,” Eddie teases, resting his elbows on Buck’s shoulders. He can hear Buck's eyeroll. “Here, I’ll help you.”  He doesn't know what comes over him, only that his body is screaming closer, closer, closer and suddenly he's reaching for the cue around Buck’s arm, holding his waist with his other hand. Buck stills against him before relaxing into the position with a disbelieving laugh. Eddie breathes a sigh of relief.  “Are you actually about to teach me like one of those guys teaching girls how to golf in early 2000s movies?” “If that’s the only way you’re gonna stop messing around and play this game properly, then yeah, I will.”

tagging all the homies who have for sure already done this bc its almost 11pm! oops! @chronicowboy @eddiebabygirldiaz @try-set-me-on-fire @jeeyuns @exhuastedpigeon @bucks118 @useramor @singlethread @shitouttabuck @the-likesofus

[actualalligator]

WIP Wednesday

I got tagged yesterday by @steadfastsaturnsrings and today by @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad, @sznofthesticks, and @anewkindofme so here is some of a WIP where Buck fake died, but actually he was just in another coma. He's trying to catch up to TK or something.

Eddie sat down across from him. He had questions, and he wanted answers. But more than anything, he just wanted to know this was real. He watched Buck. Part of him didn't believe he was real. This was psychosis. A lifetime of ignoring his own trauma had finally caught up to him. But he'd kissed him on the porch. That felt real.

"You left me everything," he said.

Buck looked up at him for a second, then back toward where Christopher slept, still completely unaware the world had changed once again.

"So did you," Buck said finally. "I would argue that me leaving you the jeep and all my stuff is less important than, y'know, a whole human."

"And the money?" Eddie asked. "Sixty thousand dollars in a bank account for Christopher's college. Another what almost forty for Jee?"

"That's a thousand a month for each of them," Buck replied with a shrug like it wasn't a big deal. Eddie wanted to shake him.

"Buck," he said.

"I don't spend it on anything else. I make good money, and I'm just me. I pay my rent. I bought a used jeep that I finished paying off right before Jee-Yun was born. I try to keep my monthly expenses below a thousand, and I had extra. So I thought, why not? I love Chris, and I can afford to do this. Then Jee was born, and I didn't have a car payment anymore, so I made sure I took an extra shift a couple of times a month so I could do it for her too. Why not?" Buck looked down at his hands. "I don't have a spouse. I'm not a dad. It's just me. I wanted to take care of the kids I love."

Eddie rested his palms on the table. "And the annuity?"

Buck shrugged. "I took care of this older woman back when I was trying to be a bartender. She left it to me when she died. I figured I'd blow it, so I put it where I can't touch it."

"So you're not laundering money or doing anything nefarious?" Eddie asked.

Buck laughed, actually laughed, and looked away. "Nefarious? It's me, Eddie."

Eddie shook his head. "My best friend fucking dies and suddenly I've got a quarter of a million dollars to deal with," he said. "A thousand a month is five years, Buck. How long after we met did you start this?"

Buck waved a hand. "Not until after Christmas at least."

"Buck," Eddie said.

Buck looked away. "I love him."

"Buck."

"I love you! Okay? And it didn't matter if you didn't love me. I knew if I could put a little bit away every month by the time he graduated high school, there'd be enough that you wouldn't have to worry about it. He could go anywhere, and you wouldn't have to worry."

"I kissed you, Buck."

Buck pushed back from the table and stood. "Just now! Not when Shannon came back, and I was living a sad bisexual cliché, in love with my best friend. At least I could make your life easier."

Tags under the cut

@friendly-chaos @malewifediaz @lochnesswriter and literally anybody who wants to do this! You don't need to be tagged!! Just share! I want to read it allllll.

[halestrom]

apocafic for the WIP meme!

i love a good post-apoclaypse fic/story/tv and so on and this is post mission, bradley is hanging with mav and ice (bc hes alive for Plot reasons) reconnecting and ice gets called to a ship for something and he pulls bradley and mav with him. unbeknownst to them something was Going Down and they end up getting trapped on the carrier while basically some sort of zombie-esque virus races through and causes the apoclaypse. it's also on the ship and so they have to hole up for a bit.

this is all in like the first....5k of the fic, and the rest of the story is bradley leading this rag tag group of epople across the us to try and get to jake's ranch out in east texas, mostly based on a random ass conversation all the daggers once had about what they would bring to the apoclaypse. and jake offered the ranch as a joke, but its all bradley can think about.

its gonna be told in then and now flashes, and its very pre-hangster for it, but bradleys doing his conceal-dont-feel routine by focusing on jake and not what's happening, and getting there because they had a date planned post-leave.

a small snippet bc im not super far into it, and i just keep plugging away at it.

“We need to get off the ship.”

He hadn’t realized he had spoken until he heard Ice call his name and he turned, seeing people looking at him and he suddenly felt uncomfortable. He settled for looking at Ice.

“We drifted, and I don’t…know how long until we hit something, or something goes wrong. We need to figure out how to get off because…this is a tomb,” Bradley said, looking down at the deck, thinking of the four thousand or more bodies that were laying there. He thought about what he had told the Daggers. “We need to get what we can and go.”

Someone cleared their throat. “I’m a helicopter pilot. I…fuck. Don’t think we’ll need the weapons load out so we drop that and we can take a little more weight. 20 per? With packs and some food?”

“I can also fly,” someone else spoke up, a few others beginning to talk.

“If you don’t mind a bumpy landing I can as well,” Mav said, shrugging. “And it’s been awhile since I’ve flown it.”

“Where do we go?” someone else asked.

Suddenly there was a cacophony as everyone spoke at once, their words jumbling over each other as people began to argue over where they should go. Mav whistled, the sound sharp and startling, none of them used to it after days of silence.

“The helicopters have a limited distance,” Mav said into the silence, opening his mouth and closing it again. They were all struggling, trying to come to terms with what had happened.

“And we don’t know what’s out there,” Bradley said, thinking aloud more than anything. “Can’t land in a city unless you wanna deal with,” he paused and looked down before he shrugged. “Won’t be able to refuel probably.”

“So, we split up,” one of the pilots said. “My families from Oregon and I wanna…I want to find them. I can take whoever wants to go that direction as far as we can, and then figure it out from there.”

“I’m from Wyoming and I know there’s a few small air strips along the way,” someone else spoke. “We might be able to refuel.”

“We’re going to the Mojave,” Mav said, looking over at Ice and Bradley.

[narcolini]

tagged by @drabbles-mc to share a snip of a current wip and for once im writing fic and not something else so i can join in 😌

its johnny (bikeriders) x reader unless something drastic happens

He’s not tall, but he’s not short neither, something in the middle that suits you just right, if it mattered. Face like he seen some things too, but his hair’s combed all neat like he hasn’t seen nothin. If it weren’t for the bent pinky on his right hand and the scar across his knuckles on the other, you might think he was some regular guy. But he got a walk like he owns the place, more than the bartender, that's for sure, and the shirt he got on is plastered with the same exact name as the rest of all these guys: VANDALS. Doesn’t take much to figure he’s top dog of them. Vandal of the Vandals.

He slides right up to you like you invited him, sitting his forearms on the edge next to your hands. 

‘Nah,’ he says. Just like that. Nah.

You feel like laughing. ‘No?’

‘Nah,’ his head shakes, ‘you don’t wanna be in here.’

If it’s advice, it kinda feels like a threat and, well, if it’s a threat, it sorta feels like advice. A decent piece at that, cause he’s right. You don’t wanna be in here. 

‘Don’t want doesn’t eclipse need,’ you tell him. ‘And I need to use a phone, if you got one.’

‘What for?’

‘A cab.' Then you do laugh. 'What? You worried I’ll ring your bill up by calling international?’

He makes a strange, dismissive noise, whilst pushing off from the bar. ‘Worried you’d call some little boyfriend of yours,’ he mumbles, then he walks round to the serving side and pulls a phone from under the lip of it.

‘No boyfriend, sir. Just a mighty need to get home.’ And the fuck outta this place.

[trickstarbrave]

WIP Whenever

hiiiii i got tagged by @boethiahspillowbook

this is what i got so far on the azura and nerevar piece. not much further bc im still trying to figure out shading and how i want it to be. oof. also unsure abt azura's halo fsr it just looks.... off on her. and i think i wanna make some of the blood a brighter red to tie in together with all the rest of the red. lots of things im considering...

also for written wips. uh.

unfortunately i only have the. fucking cursed omegaverse nerevoryn im working on. once again never consider anything as like a joke or ironically that is the devil talking and you will start doing things for real.

in my defense though omegaverse is such a wild concept that trying to go "okay but seriously how would this work in a society and why would it be this way" is actually entertaining. very fun to go "yes, and...." over and over. oh, fated mates exist? what if they weren't just a cheesy soulmates thing but had a logical explanation. how would these dynamics effect various social classes? how would different cultures be effected? i have world builder's disease clearly

ALSO i tag anyone who hasnt been tagged yet and wants to :> i cant keep up with which of my mutuals have been tagged or not.... let me see ur ideas pls

--

“... In all honesty,” The healer began, sounding exacerbated, “I have never seen a case like this in all my years. But there is only one answer I can come to based on everything else.”

“Go on.” Nerevar tried to keep his voice level rather than annoyed. Azura knows how terrified most people got when he was angry. 

The healer pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“How familiar are you with fated mates?” At her question, Nerevar froze, stunned, before he gave a loud bark of laughter. The healer, however, did not laugh or smile back, and instead only looked more resolute. 

“... Be serious with me.” 

“I am being serious, Lord Nerevar.” 

“Are you--are you seriously trying to say Voryn is my--”

“I understand how strange it sounds at first.” The healer cut him off. “Typically when someone meets their fated mate they determine it quickly. It only takes a few heat or rut cycles before the draw is undeniable.” She sighed once again. “I can only assume because you knew Lord Dagoth before either of you presented, the draw was less noticeable.” 

It kind of made sense, to a degree. When people wrote about fated mates it was usually that they had a scent that was undeniable. Even passing by them on the street, you couldn’t get the scent out of your head for days on end, trying to find it again and again. Even those who tried to deny it couldn’t refuse the pull forever; heats and ruts were unbearable, the longing overwhelming the pair. No one had ever recorded an account of a fated pair who knew each other prior to presenting though; fated mates were absurdly rare, after all. They were more common in fiction than real life, and only the most hopeless of romantics ever went out actually looking for one. Most people just found a mate they liked rather than chase after some destined person, and why fated mates even existed was a mystery. Did everyone have one but distance kept them from finding one? That didn’t seem likely; the most common belief was that some people were born with them--not many members of the population, anyways--and even fewer actually found their ‘other half’. Someone meeting a fated mate before presenting, when you were children not off exploring the wider world yet, was even more unlikely. How would you react if you could constantly smell and see them before either of you presented?

Dumac told him the dwemer scholars believed it had something to do with ‘reproductive compatibility’. Not that it was a mystical, god given connection like some believed, but rather those with a fated partner were less compatible with most of the population, so when they did find someone they could produce children with easily, the desire to mate was enhanced strongly. Nerevar didn’t know if he liked that explanation either though. He found the ideas the gods made destined partners to love each other forever as too romantic of an idea for reality yes, but presuming there must be something wrong with them wasn’t much better. 

It didn’t seem likely that he and Voryn could just ignore the draw for decades though, right? Surely that wouldn’t be possible. The draw was supposed to be strong, impossible to deny past a certain point.

Sure, when he was younger and Voryn was in a rut he always came by to check on him before he was shooed away, but that was just boredom. And when he was in heat Voryn would pass him notes under the door from time to time that he’d bury in the nests he made, but that was just because being in heat made him feel sensitive and sappy. Nothing more. And shouldn’t there be something more if they were a fated pair?

“Your other symptoms make me more certain of it.” The healer continued, pulling him from his thoughts.

“How so?” Nerevar raised an eyebrow. 

“It isn’t healthy for an unmated omega to be around an alpha in rut.” She replied, a fact that always made Nerevar roll his eyes. “It causes excess stress, even if it doesn’t trigger a heat. Unless you are drawn to the alpha in question as a potential partner, usually a rut is off putting, distressing, or nauseating for an unmated omega.”

“They’ve never bothered me to that extent.” Nerevar snarked.

“Precisely.” She locked eyes with him. “You handle it more akin to an omega who’s already been mated, despite not having the scent of one.” Nerevar tensed at that. He hadn’t thought of it like that in the slightest; why would he? He wasn’t mated. Anyone could smell on him that he wasn’t. “Those who have met a fated partner experience mated behaviors before the bond is even set. Rejecting other suitors, unbothered by others in a heat or rut,” She sighed. “Lord Vivec even explained you are giving off the same scent as a bonded omega whose mate is absent.” Nerevar’s cheeks flushed at that. 

“That’s--” Nerevar tensed slightly, “I wouldn’t go that far.” Surely Nerevar wasn’t. He wasn’t fucking bonded, why would he be throwing out the same scent as an omega who went into heat, begging for their mate to come tend to them? 

“You are.” She asserted, though she did have some sympathy in her gaze at least. “Unfortunately, the best I can do is, if you truly don’t want the bond, I can give you suppressants. They won’t actively stop it given you already went into heat, but they should calm some of the worst side effects.” Nerevar already knew what she was going to say next though. “But your next one will be much of the same. The side effects will continue to worsen.” Short of running away to the other side of the continent and burning anything he owned that Voryn had ever so much as touched, he would be able to smell Voryn faintly, after all. In the palace, on his belongings, anywhere Voryn had been might trigger the worst of the symptoms all over again now that he had a heat triggered by his rut no doubt. 

“At the very least, Lord Dagoth is in control of his emotions.” Voryn’s eyebrow twitched at that, his arms tightening. “You can spent ruts and heats together without actually mating, until you come to a decision on how to proceed. It should alleviate both of your struggles.” 

Shit, Nerevar hadn’t even considered what Voryn must be going through. Was his irritation and lack of eating because he subconsciously knew Nerevar was supposed to be his but wasn’t there by his side? When he was younger was that out of character, violent rage because he knew, right there in the stronghold, his mate was being kept from him? No doubt the next rut Voryn would be uncontrollable; before he could hold back because he wasn’t consciously aware of what he wanted, but now that he knew it was Nerevar… 

[nontoxic-writes]

WIP Wednesday

ive been working on my former-child-star Jake/nepo-baby-rockstar Bradley fake dating/friends-with-benefits hangster fic a lot this week and im loving where it’s going so here’s some pining idiots.

it’s late so im not gonna tag anyone, but if you have something you’re excited about, consider this your tag!

“Okay, give me the full picture. What are you wearing?” Bradley asks, his voice low in the receiver.

Jake barks out a laugh. “Not that kind of call.”

“You could still tell me,” Bradley responds, and Jake can hear the pout in his voice. He refuses to admit that it makes him smile.

He sighs. “Sweatpants and a t-shirt.”

“And how tight is the t-shirt?”

Jake grins. Fuck, he likes him so goddamn much. “Tight enough.”

“You’re so bad at this,” Bradley says with feigned exasperation. “Can we switch to FaceTime?”

Jake hesitates for a moment. “Um, can we talk first?” he asks, his fingers tapping out an erratic beat where they rest on the countertop.

Bradley is silent for a second. “…Sure.”

“It’s just… I have to talk to you about something, and I don’t want to see your face when I do it.”

“Sounds ominous,” Bradley responds, his voice flat and even.

“I got an invite to Logan Lee’s wedding.”

“Who the fuck is Logan Lee?”

“I thought you binged Baby On Board?”

“I watched your scenes.”

Jake blushes. This is why he hates FaceTiming Bradley. “Logan played my brother.”

“Which brother? Wasn’t the whole premise the big adopted family?”

“Well he wasn’t the baby, Bradley, that kid’s only like five years old now.”

“Oh, sweetheart, do I have bad news for you about the passage of time.”

Jake bites back a smile. Asshole. “Anyway, he played my ‘twin,’” Jake says, calling back the not-actually-funny-but-the-laughtrack-thought-it-was-hilarious running joke on the show, since their characters were adopted the same year.

“Oh. That one.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Anyway. The wedding is in two months. In Italy. You’re my plus one, if you want to come.”

Bradley is silent for a moment before he carefully asks, “You want me to go with you?”

“You’re named on the invitation, Bradley. And as far as everyone is concerned, we’ve been in a relationship for the last two and a half years.”

“I mean, you can tell them I’m busy, I won’t be offended if you don’t want me there. Could make photos awkward.”

Jake rolls his eyes. “I’ll have more fun with you there. But you don’t have to. I know you’re on tour—“

“Tour ends in a month,” Bradley says, cutting him off. “I’ll be there.”

Jake feels betrayed by the hopeful feeling swelling in his chest, by the grin that takes over his face, by the way he knows Bradley can hear it when he confirms with an uncertain, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now switch to FaceTime and take your pants off.”

[sanjuwrites]

WIP Wednesday

thanks to @inflarescent, @alrightbuckaroo and @theghostofashton for the tags!

i would like to start this off by saying that this AU is entirely neha's fault. i threw an idea at her and it spiraled into a WIP because i have no self control and she's an enabler <3

Carlos messes with the material of the paper bag as he stands at TK’s door. “Can I come in? I bought stuff for pani puri, your favorite, and I thought we could talk?”

TK sighs, opening the door fully and letting Carlos in, “Baby, you have a key, why didn’t you just let yourself in?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to, after the fight we had earlier.” Carlos sets everything down on the counter and pulls the can of garbanzo beans out of the paper bag, setting it on the counter. He roots through TK’s drawers, looking for a can opener and avoiding eye contact like his life depends on it. 

TK rests his hands over Carlos’s, forcing him to stop and look at TK properly, “Baby, we just fought, okay? Couples fight, and then they discuss it later and come to a compromise. That’s how relationships work.”

Carlos fidgets with the can opener he found, looking embarrassed. 

“Baby, seriously, what’s wrong?”

Carlos looks up, and to TK’s horror, his eyes are teary. “It’s just, I don’t think I particularly know where we stand right now. I've never done this,” he says, gesturing between them, “before and all I know is that I love you too much to ever fucking lose you, TK, I love you so much it consumes me."

TK draws Carlos into him, pressing their foreheads together. He blinks back his own tears, pressing a kiss to Carlos’s forehead and whispering, “we’re okay, baby, I promise. I love you, and we will figure this out. I love you too much to let this be what splits us apart.”

“Even if I don’t think I’m ready to come out yet? And maybe the fact that I might never be?”

“Oh, baby, don’t you know? Nothing ever stays the same? And even if it does, we’ll figure it out, okay? I’m done letting the universe and circumstance keep us apart anymore. We’ll figure it out, my love.”

im gonna tag @chaotictarlos, @catanisspicy, @detective-giggles, @bonheur-cafe, @taralaurel, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @rosedavid, and @freneticfloetry!

[kafkasmjjw]

Hi :) can you recommend your top 5 moonjo/jongwoo (jongmoon?) fics?

i’m going to link my top 5 post-canon, canon divergent and aus because i’ve been in this fandom for too long to choose only 5. these aren’t ordered by preference, and i’m choosing complete fics and only one per author. please heed the tags and ratings in case any of it makes you uncomfortable!

post-canon:

origins by mslunita

Moonjo is hardly protected by tissue; his body is rough-cut. Bone-fed. It’s easy for Jongwoo to break the skin and feel as if he’s sharpening his teeth on the skeleton itself.

monsters call it love by finalizer

He looks like a statue, an impossible man cut from white marble—neat and composed and perfect. Jong-woo wants to ruin it. Poke at it, prod at it, mar it with his fingertips and his teeth. Something so perfect has no right to exist. He wants to destroy him.

since we’re feeling so anaesthetised by eris

Jongwoo flexes into the pain, fingers twitching around the phantom contours and pressure mapped out on Moonjo's throat. From somewhere almost outside himself, he says, “Would you have let me kill you?”

no angel speaks to me by gfriendly

“Want to know how I remember it?” Jongwoo asked.

if i were a carp by theletterv

“Eat me.” It’s a quick answer, and the disorientation of it just as quick. Jongwoo turns so fast it pulls something in his neck, blinks at him owlishly but the peace on Moonjo’s face never falters. “Eat you?”

special mention to 'choose happiness' by ennui_ing because their fics are absolutely stunning and a must-read. top tier characterisation.

canon divergent:

pyre by anthean

And really, why is he surprised? Jongwoo is special. He’s precious. Moonjo wants to know him inside out, skin to muscle to bone to marrow, in every way that he can. That Jongwoo wants him too only cements Moonjo’s own desire.

tender sugar by angelas

“Uhm, sorry,” Jong-woo says, “I think maybe I should lea—” “Oh,” Moon-jo intercepts. “There’s someone special in your life.”

on the seventh day we rest by SLq

“Are you lost?” Jong-woo looked up. A man stood at the bottom of the hill. He watched Jong-woo steadily, generous mouth curled in a smile.

как в старой сказке, я не знал, кто волк // i didn't know who my enemy was, just like in an old fairytale by fia_lka

“So the only way you could help me right now, ahjussi, is if you dropped on your knees right there and sucked me off instead of her. Would you do that?”

dangerous beginnings by uhlee

Honey, I like this side of you. Take what you want from me. You use me so well, jagiya. Is it good, jagi? Am I good?

AUs:

flower by mayday0329

I thought he would give up after that. But instead he smiled again, and fumbled in his pocket for something, before taking out a tung flower. It had withered a long time ago, but one could still see that it had been a startling white before. He pressed it into my hand, along with a crumpled business card. Will you come find me again, then?

do you ever feel lonely, jagiya? by sweetnsimple

“Do I make you feel lonely?” he asked. Jong-Woo opened his mouth. Swallowed and tried again. “Yes,” he said.

pray we never meet at the wrong hour of the night by mslunita (i know i said one fic per author but carli’s writing is a weakness of mine)

Moonjo laughs at the last one. “Cannibal,” he says aloud, a glint in his eyes. He clears his throat. “Well. This is quite the macabre list.” He drags his eyes from the screen back to Jongwoo. “You’re something special.”

why did it have to be you? by tooprofessional

“Are you going to punish me?” He took a step closer, slowly looking up the younger man’s frame, eventually meeting his gaze. He tilted his head to the side. “You know, for causing a scene.”

they live in the dark by vivisextion

“You know, I’ve heard supernatural presences can lower the temperature of a room…” Jongwoo shuddered. “Please don’t remind me.”

annnd that's it for the complete fics. as for wips, im currently devouring second circle of hell by reddiary. a true fucking masterpiece. and hell at your heels by an anonymous writer who should know they changed the trajectory of my life. ennui_ing's how much can you change before it's some kind of murder? has me by. the. throat. fills me with a good dose of dread every time and the characterisation is gorgeous. ANNDDDDD of course, this hotel au 'all the ghosts are in the garden', by b that is so so SO well-paced and in character it's actually insane.

[crepuscularqueens]

i! keep! coming! to! your! blog! to! ask! about! WIPs! and! keep! getting! distracted!!!!!!!!!! i cant figure out whats been asked about already perooo, do you wanna tell me about i'm so ugly, tropic morning new, & stwin tag *???? pls???

hiiiiiii <3 thank you of course i want to tell you about these lol

im so ugly was a semi existing way too old clintbucky WIP that went nowhere and i could not figure out what to do with it and then i watched the movie self reliance and thought. well. what if i turned that into a clintbucky AU using some of what i already have? bc i think the main character could very easily be clint. and here we are.

Bucky drags on the smoke, standing huddled from the rain under the awning of the building he lives in, scrolling idly on his phone through personal ads on Craigslist. He hasn't got a clue when he picked up this habit, maybe to feel more like a real person, like the faceless people of the internet desperately reaching out for some small connection will spark something in him. Not that any of them have ever given him cause to reply. Maybe it's only because they're good for a laugh, though. His eyes catch on a truly sideways attempt to roleplay an exciting dating experienced, and whoever this guy is he's insanely committed to the role he's chosen. The ad is written from the desperate point of view of a man being hunted for sport as part of a game he's playing, the chance to win a ton of money if he makes it through a week while unknown assailants are after him. Asking the anonymous people of the internet if someone could stay by his side for the remaining time to ensure he won't get killed. Having to admit he's reluctantly amused, Bucky replies. After all, might be a good thing to actually try to make a human connection here instead of endlessly scrolling through other people's problems without doing a thing about it. At least this promises to be some type of entertaining.

tropic morning news i did answer here but! i of course will give you another snippet :)

There was a long silence after Jack finished relaying the vision to Max, he was still pinching the bridge of his nose, though the headache that always appeared in the aftermath of prophecies had already long since settled in. Max was watching him in her careful way, brow slightly furrowed.  “And you understand what it was you saw to mean-” “That, essentially, we’re all fucked here?” Jack interrupted, “Yes, I believe that was the general idea. Max sighed and poured from the bottle she was still holding into the forgotten cup. “I was just told ‘zhat will not help’,” he snarked, even as he gratefully accepted the drink. “It is certainly not a long-term solution,” Max agreed, now pouring a cup for herself, “I fail to see what can be done immediately, so until we can piece together who you are having visions about and how we can best take care of it…” She trailed off, raising the cup to her mouth, her eyes lifting to the second landing and softening in the way they only ever did for Anne. Jack turned his head to see her exiting their room, shirt billowing where she hadn’t bothered to tuck it in.

twin tag is a whole 23 pages of notes i have comparing max and silver's journey through season one of black sails that i intend to continue and do for the rest of the show as well. because i truly needed to take the time and compare each and every action the both of them take in each and every episode and point at them and scream. idk. distorted reflections of each other. the same character in wildly different circumstances.

So, when Silver sees the page on the cook, puts together that it’s valuable and he might take advantage of that, he works independently to do so, haphazardly piecing his plan together as he goes to fall in with the Walrus crew. Max has to warm herself and work cooperatively with Silver, gaining his trust and proving her usefulness to be allowed into this plan. Neither method is lesser than the others, they are both borne of necessity required by their positions and grabbing an opportunity where you see it, when you see it. Where Silver standing over the dead body of the cook on the merchant ship is undoubtedly suspicious, that suspicion is put on hold for more pressing matters, after all there was just a bloody battle between the two ships and who can say what the truth really is? If Max were to have killed Silver for the page, she could not have claimed the same and likely would have been punished by her superiors as well as the Walrus crew for doing so, her survival would likely be put into question. They are both very aware of the consequences of both the actions they do take as well as the ones they avoid.

[inunanon]

WIP Weekend Wednesday, my dudes

got tagged by @oneshotdepresso, which is basically them telling me to come off anon alr

i dont have any other wips other than one, the rest are just brain wips of fics i'm on the fence abt writing, so send an ask and i'll yap abt them pls send asks im desperate

more under the cut bc i don't want to take too much space in the tag. also, sorry for the jank format, im on mobile browser.

tagged bojere because all of these are bojere lol

not tagging anyone as i don't have enough mutuals to continue the chain, but if you do see this, consider it a tag from me to you <3

;/semicolonfic/whateveryouwannacallit : it's on fic limbo tbh ahahah , but i've written a few words here and there that can clock up to a hundred or so in total. i'm taking it slow and easy, because i frankly don't have the vigor and the braincells to progress the plot at my state rn. especially the braincells.

the rest are my wips in my brain lets go

assassin!bojan au: pretty cut and dry au where i widowmaker'd bojan and made gay bojere angst out of it. i even commissioned @mewnyan for it khihi <33 (pls commish them, their art is so cool :3)

afterlife office au: basically imagine that the afterlife is just like ur local dmv (/j), with office workers doing administrative tasks to ensure each soul is processed to their next cycle with ease. it centers around kris, an afterlife office worker, as he works with the curious case of bojere.

dark meta bojere au: inspired by rumors and allegations floating around that bojan is actually a egocentric douchebag irl. my fucked up ass essentially made a whole-ass meta-type canon divergence narrative about it. and he falls in love with jere in this like some clownass regardless. apparently there's an infamous fic of the same type/plot, but that's most likely not me as i joined the fandom fairly recently.

sleeping beauty(?) au: this is like the shortest description i can give without being extremely long and convoluted about it. it's basically a fantasy au with bojan being a sealed prince/god and jere is some nobody in a scorned race/lineage that once worshipped beings like bojan. one day, jere suddenly became a host of a radiant soul, compelling him to embark on the doomed mission that his kind is fated to do—seek and release the sealed god. there's like lore and stuff in the works, and binging elden ring dlc lore has really bumped this fucker up in my brain wips list.

i have more au's but these are the most structured in my head/most likely to be able to write a chapter 1 if compelled to.

let me know if anything interests you, or if you want to kick my ass so i can finally write any of these, idk

[elvensorceress]

listen. your wip wednesdsy angst. im-

I was just about to come into your inbox because your tags made me 🤣🤣🤣🤣 So, here, beloved. Have some more? 💕💕💕💕 Also I'm sorry. 😘😘😘

They’re supposed to meet up tonight. He arranged for Christopher to stay with Abuela so he and Buck could have the whole night. She didn’t know why. No one knows about it. Though he does suspect that she suspects he’s seeing someone. She had that twinkly devious sparkle in her eyes when she happily agreed to watch Chris for the night. That is the plan. 

They’re supposed to have the whole night. 

Eddie parks outside of the apartment building where Buck is still staying in his invisible ex-girlfriend’s place. What are they if not haunted by ghosts of relationships past. He rests his head on his steering wheel, and he’s early, but not that early. He doesn’t have time to fuck around and he doesn’t want to prolong this and make Buck wait. 

Maybe he gets it over with and they agree to one more last night? Could they do that? 

Is that even pretending to try what Eddie is supposed to be trying? 

The thought of never having Buck again though… 

It hurts. His chest hurts and his arms hurt and his stomach and everything else hurts and it’s hard to breathe, and it was bad when Shannon left him, but it also wasn’t this. 

It’s just sex. They’re just fucking around. It doesn’t mean anything. They’re not dating. They never were. It’s not a big deal. 

It’s not anything. 

It doesn’t make anything in his chest feel better about this. But those are the facts. It’s just sex. It’s nothing real. It’s shallow and selfish, and he should stop. He’s going to stop. Because he’s married and he loves Shannon. He loved Shannon. Past tense. He’s not sure about anything in the present tense. 

After a far too indulgent ten minutes putting it off, Eddie gets out of his truck and goes to the door. 

Buck greets him with the biggest smile, and Eddie already wants to rip his own heart out and stomp on it until it’s dead and can’t hurt him anymore. 

“Hey,” Buck tugs Eddie to him and pulls him into the sweetest, softest kiss imaginable. 

And Eddie can’t stop. He can’t pull away. Why would he ever want to pull away? Why would he ever want to stop?

He makes a soft, if pained noise, but melts with Buck’s arms around him. If he loses himself a little bit, that’s only for him to know. He keeps his eyes closed when Buck ends the kiss, and Eddie should pull away. He should stop this immediately. Just get it over with. It’s not a big deal. They’ve been having sex, not dating. They’re not in a relationship. 

But then all he can do is nuzzle against Buck’s cheek and bury his face in Buck’s neck and shoulder and hold on like he doesn’t have to let go. 

How the fuck can he do this?