#wip wednesday apparently

[positivelykirby]

you would not believe your eyes

if I found a completed comic in my wip folder

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @loveyouanyway 💖

forgot it was tuesday and it's still tuesday somewhere right lol (tagging y'all for tuesday or wednesday or whenever <3)

so, all my other wips are still on hold bc I posted my 7x06 tommy pov fic last night, and now I'm writing a (much shorter and without repeating all the dialogue) buck's pov version just bc I'm kinda insane about them rn and i need to get into Buck's head at the 'so are you' moment lol 🙈🙈

___

He’s so happy that Tommy makes time to come to the bachelor party, all the nerves about wanting it to go perfect flying out the window for just a second when he sees that smile and hears that soft “hey”, and gets enveloped in those strong, big arms. Damn, he’s big and strong, and Buck can’t stop his thoughts going in very inappropriate directions whenever he looks at him. He has to reel it in for now, because he doesn’t want to rush himself or their relationship, but damn, he wants to devour this man.

Tommy is on standby so he can get called into work at any minute, and knowing how the universe likes to screw with Buck, of course it has to happen. But still, he showed up, and Buck’s heart is beating out of his chest – he made time to be there when he could be resting in case he has to go to work, and it’s- it means so much to Buck, really, having someone be there just because he wants them there. And after the initial outrage, he doesn’t even care about the stupid Henley (okay, he cares a little bit, he specifically said 80s theme, it was for Chimney, who Buck knows would absolutely love it if he actually made it, but it’s fine, Tommy had to be ready for work, he understood – still would’ve loved to see him in a cool 80s getup). One smile from Tommy has him melting, and he forgives him for not following the dress-code instantly. Oh, he already has such a hold on Buck.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend

[onthewaytosomewhere]

it's a 7 sentence WIP (work is published!!) day of the week

EDITED WITH THE CORRECT LINK LOLZ - OOPS

so today will be the last day for snips of my lil (15k) dark & cozy fic - CUZ IT'S POSTED!!! so get ur firstprince, southern philanthropy, and even some junora in there

nights at the moonlight coffee shop is done & dusted

thanks for the tags today @jmagnabo92 @henryspearl & @inell (& tuesday 💚)

also thanks for sunday (& tuesday) tags (under the cut cuz there's a few ) and now the last snippet from it *wipes tear*

Alex drags himself from the kiss to ask, “So, what does this require?”

“All that is required is we both ‘spill our seed’ and repeat a few quick phrases. How we do that is entirely up to us.’

“Wonderful,” Alex mutters against Henry’s lips, retaking them and practically climbing up him to get closer. When Henry grabs under his ass and hoists him up the wall, Alex gives thanks for vampire strength. While he wasn’t always as big as now, post-werewolf transition, he’s always been solid from the years of lacrosse and then working out and running while in college and law school to keep himself sane. Being held against the wall while kissing Henry and exploring with his hands makes him feel safe and wanted in a way he’s not experienced before.

sunday tags that i'm tossing back if ya haven't already done this @kiwiana-writes @sophie1973 @eusuntgratie @tailsbeth-writes @thesleepyskipper

@caterpills @adreamareads @firenati0n @run-for-chamo-miles

@stellarmeadow & @blueeyedgrlwrites

& of course @typicalopposite for the tueday tag - thanks luv 💚

and some just plain ole tag ur its (if ya haven't already) to @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @catdadacd @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise

@duchessdepolignaca03 @emmalostinwonderland @england-would-fall @everwitch-magiks @firstsprinces

@forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine

@littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @mikibwrites @myheartalivewrites @ninzied

@nocoastposts @piratefalls @porcelainmortal @priincebutt @softboynick

@sparklepocalypse @suseagull04 @taste-thewaste @theprinceandagcd @thedramasummer

@thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex @captainjunglegym @bigassbowlingballhead @dragonflylady77

& HUGE OPEN TAG FOR ANYONE WHO WANTS TO DO THIS AND I SOMEHOW MISSED (tag me plz i wanna see ur sentences too)

[iamamythologicalcreature]

WIP Wednesday: Kitten Edition

Shush there's still fifteen minutes of Wednesday in my time zone...

Thank you to @whatevertheweather for the tag! (Can't wait to read more of your story!) And thank you to everyone who's continued to tag me in wipsday stuff even though my ability to reblog and such is somewhat limited right now. Means a lot to me. <3

Sooo as much as I'd like to share little art bits with you, this is going to be more of a life update. But with bonus kitten pics.

Here's what I'm up to these days:

In case you haven't heard, @carryonthroughtheages is happening! I'm very excited to be working on such a cool event. It's everything my snowbaz-lovin', history-nerd heart could wish for.

I am working on art! It's just that I can't post any snippets because it's concept art for @carryon-reverse-bang. So it's shhhh secret.

I'm moving. Like. Many thousands of miles away from my current location. It's going to keep me pretty busy for the next 2-3 months, but please keep tagging me in stuff if you have the room. When I can pop onto Tumblr, I love seeing what everyone is doing!

One other project that's very special to me.... KITTENS! (See below.)

All other projects are on hold for now, but not abandoned! (I'm very attached to them.)

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter

*Yes, the gray one is totally laying on top of the orange one and pinning him down in that first pic. Orange dude seems okay with it.

I got some new foster kittens! They're about 9 weeks old or so, and have had a pretty rough time of it. They're still pretty afraid of people, including me, but I'm making progress. They needed to be dewormed, but now that that's done, I expect they'll become more and more themselves quickly.

More info under the cut, plus the whole naming conundrum:

Because they're still recovering from a traumatic few weeks of being separated from other sibs and being bounced around before finally landing here with me, it's hard to know their personalities yet. But here's what I've observed thus far:

Gray girl was the most afraid, hissing at me at first, but has taken to being petting with a little more willingness than orange boy. (She even purred today!) She's also very fond of the plastic pink spring toy I gave her, and I caught her climbing the side of the enclosure at one point.

Orange boy is still sleeping a lot, and is less open to being handled, though he takes it stoically when I reach in and give him a gentle stroke or two. I can't tell what part of that behavior is recovery, and what's shyness, or something else. He's pretty chill with his sister, though, and watched with great interest while she played with her spring, earlier. I'm pretty sure he's playing with the dangly-bell-toy when I'm not looking. Cause. Ding-ding.

I’d love to wait to name them until I know more about their personalities, but unfortunately, I can’t. I need to get them into the fostering database, and thus, names are required. I have a couple ideas, but if you have any thoughts or suggestions, please do let me know!

That's all! You're up to date! Cheers.

Tags for future wipsdays and/or hello's to: @drowninginships, @ic3-que3n, @prettygoododds, @monbons, @thewholelemon,

@roomwithanopenfire, @facewithoutheart, @noblecorgi, @mooncello, @rimeswithpurple,

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @hushed-chorus, @bookish-bogwitch, @artsyunderstudy, @best--dress,

@youarenevertooold, @supercutedinosaurs, @cutestkilla, @imagineacoolusername, @tender-ministrations,

@bazzybelle, @theimpossibledemon, @emeryhall, @blackberrysummerblog

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Mer AU please? I am obsessed with everything about it!

WIP Wednesday (8/14) | Mer Roadtrip AU (Part 54)

When Andrew wakes up, he’s beyond disoriented. Instead of the unfortunate sand-hole he’s been digging himself every night for the last month, he’s curled up on his side in a real bed. The dingy wall in front of him keeps changing colors somehow. There’s a tatty blanket draped over him that smells like it’s been in storage for twenty years. But it’s warm. He grips it tighter and turns onto his other side to find the rest of Abram’s horrible hideaway.

Oh, Andrew swallows. It was real. Not a dream. He’s been rescued from the sea. The ever-changing colors are provided by the ancient tube television at the foot of the bed. The springy armchair is parked down there, wedged in between the mattress and the dresser holding the TV. Andrew wriggles until he’s sitting up, then crawls down the bed to find his savior watching… a hockey game.

“Have you got it muted?” Andrew croaks, his voice scratching in his throat. Abram moves to sit on his knees and look over the back of the chair.

“Oh, no. It’s on the lowest volume but I can hear it.” He answers with a sort of smile. After a moment, Andrew realizes he’s changed clothes. Abram has got on a black tank top now. It looks good on him. At Andrew’s stare, Abram continues, “Didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I didn’t know they played hockey in the summer,” Andrew says, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The digital clock on the single nightstand reads 7:43pm. Six hours of restful sleep. It’s more than he’s had in months, but still not enough according to the yawn that splits his jaw.

“They don’t.” Abram clicks the TV off and drops the clunky remote on top of it. “I think this thing is haunted. It only plays reruns of older stuff. That game was from 1999.”

“Enchanting.”

“I see your nap helped with your mood.”

“Shut up. I wasn’t in a mood,” Andrew snaps, making Abram’s mouth quirk.

“Okay.”

“I was just tired.”

“Okay.”

“I hate you.”

Abram shrugs. “Okay.”

Andrew’s nostrils flare. “Say something else.”

“Something else.” Abram says obediently and Andrew would like to strangle him. Instead he just ignores the smirk on the other boy’s face and climbs out of bed on the opposite side. 

“What is there to eat around here?” Andrew didn’t get to finish his breakfast this morning, thanks to a certain runaway-slash-trespasser. So he’s properly starving and his stomach isn’t going to let him forget it anytime soon.

“Uh. I try not to keep food in the room since I don’t want more Sallies to show up, but there’s a decent pizza place that delivers. Unless you prefer hamburgers. There’s a diner about three blocks down. I’ve eaten there about a dozen times, it’s always good.”

“I want whichever is faster.” Andrew shakes out each of his legs. They still don’t feel quite attached to him. Annoying.

Abram glances down. “Think you can hobble to the diner in thirty minutes or less?”

[rosanna-writer]

WIP Wednesday

@the-lonelybarricade how many times do you think Rhys needs to make Feyre come before she rethinks her plan to leave for Santa Fe the Continent?

Before Feyre could respond, he was already on his knees. Splaying one broad hand across her stomach, he pressed her back against the door, then hooked one of her legs over his shoulder. There had been a flurry of headlines about Rhys refusing to kneel to his father in protest, then several more after an interview where he'd revealed the mountain and stars tattooed on his knees—that they meant he'd bow to nothing and no one but his crown. It had been dangerously close to declaring an intent to kill his father and take the throne. But he'd knelt for her without a second thought. His crown and his— No. Feyre wouldn't let herself think it again. Besides, Rhys was already hooking his fingers in the waistband of her pants. He looked up at her, a question in his eyes. As if now, she might actually change her mind. She'd never known him to look unsure of anything. She nearly managed to say what they were to each other, just to wipe the doubt from his face. But Feyre wasn't quite brave enough to manage it. Not yet. "Keep going, please," she said, hoping it was enough.

[reachingforaspark]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you @fiona-fififi for the tag!! I swear I was writing, but I came across this post by @astrallouis referencing "The Kiss of Life" photograph and Buck's post-lightning strike situation and woah!

So I'm sharing an art WIP- I'll likely use an early clean version of the sketch for a digital drawing.

Working Title: Love me til my heart stops

(I know 'This must be the place' is thee Bobby song, but the Laurel cover felt relevant here. I'm sure Cap would be happy to share! Maybe not if he notices Eddie's not wearing a harness. 🤷 I forgot ....)

Tagging @inferno-ontherocks (I know you have something 👀) @sluttyhenley @blondsak and anyone else who wants to share a WIP!

[wetcatspellcaster]

WIP Wednesday :)

@imscissorbladez I leave this here for you to judge at your own discretion whether Mephistopheles is hot or not (also if you want to do a WIP Wednesday go nuts)

[happiness-of-the-pursuit]

WIP Wednesday

Today is a very special WIP Wednesday, because as some of you may know, as of a few hours ago...

I wrote 50,144 words in January.

I realized a few days ago that I was at 44K, and I'm not sure I'll ever have the downtime to do this again, so I figured I had to seize the moment. I'm super excited, so as a treat, I'm going to share not one, but two snippets from Seahorse Dad Henry (reminder that means trans & pregnant) with y'all. One above the cut, one under, for NSFW reasons.

First:

After spending about five minutes with Alex and Nora, he thinks he gets it. He can see how the two of them—sharp tongues, biting wip, a competitive give-and-take that’s endless and enigmatic and alluring and terrifying all at the same time—would have explosive sex. He can also understand how that would translate better into a lifelong friendship rather than a more permanent partnership, how they’re not quite complementary when it comes to matters of the heart. Henry observes as Nora eggs Alex on until he’s attempting to disassemble his bed in less than ten minutes, he watches as she takes him down a peg when he comes in preening about being voted “Hottest Intern” by some of the junior associates. He also catches the moment when she’s too buried in her own project to notice that Alex comes home, looking grim in his white dress shirt covered in ink, notices when her joke about Alex being oblivious makes him grit his teeth. Henry remembers each one, tattooing them into the part of his mind that’s quickly become dedicated to the project of Caring for Alex; no jabs at attentiveness fits right alongside cinnamon in his coffee and the closest store that sells Tide To Go Pens.

Second (NSFW):

Henry feels a surge of pride as Alex comes less than a minute later, not even minding that Alex gets his come all over Henry’s stomach. It doesn’t hurt that Alex’s eyes go wide at the sight; there’s more than lust there, though. Something like amazement, maybe. Alex reaches out a hand, stopping an inch away from Henry’s stomach.  “Can I?” he asks, turning his head to look Henry in the eye. “I know you don’t really…” They’ve talked about the whole pregnancy belly, how amazing Alex thinks it is, how muddled Henry’s own feelings are towards his own body right now. But in this moment, the water’s clear. “Yes,” Henry nods. Alex dips his fingers into his come, smearing it across the curve of Henry’s stomach like a child discovering fingerpaint for the first time. Awe and delight dance across his face, along with other emotions that Henry’s still learning to identify, passing by too quickly for him to put a name on them. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Alex’s cock twitch. So, arousal, too, maybe. They stay like that, peaceful, as the come starts to dry in the paths that Alex’s fingers traveled across his skin, the history of Alex’s touch on Henry’s body visible for them both. While it’s objectively a bit disgusting, Henry’s not sure he’s ever felt so beautiful. For once, his eyes can’t leave the curve of his stomach.

Thanks for the tags @14carrotghoul @leaves-of-laurelin @zwiazdziarka @firenati0n @anincompletelist @littlemisskittentoes @nocoastposts @gay-flyboys @kiwiana-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf!!!

Tagging @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @cactusdragon517 @cultofsappho @firenati0n @futureseaempress @getmehighonmagic @gayrootvegetable @inexplicablymine @leojfitz @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @rockyroadkylers @suseagull04 @user-anakin @wordsofhoneydew @welcometololaland @xthelastknownsurvivorx sorry if I missed someone, brain is tired please consider this an open tag!!

[sentientcave]

Once Again I am Asking You to Celebrate WIP Wednesday (Baybeee)

More Rugby! Contains Gaz, a reference to top surgery, a joke about having too many nipples, and no actual rugby. Maybe there will never be any actual rugby. Who can say?

Sunday mornings are always football with Simon and Johnny’s friend Gaz, as least when he’s not deployed. He’s a lieutenant or something, part of the unit that your friends used to be in. He’s nice, if a bit too charming for you to be entirely comfortable around him. On sunny days he always finds an excuse to take his shirt off and flash all his well-maintained muscle at any watchers, but annoyingly, today he’s trying to persuade you to do the same. “Ah, come on, Ripper. You’re gonna be as pale as that one if you don’t get some sun,” he says playfully, jerking his thumb in Simon’s direction. Simon is, as always, fully covered, with long sleeves under his t-shirt and socks up to his knees.

You roll your eyes. It would be physically impossible for you to ever be as pale as Simon, regardless of how little sun you get. “I think between you and Johnny, we’re showing plenty of skin as a group.”

“Never have seen ye take off yer shirt.” Johnny leans against Gaz’s shoulder, blue eyes curious. “Never even change ‘fore or after games. Ye just goan home as is.”

“So?” you ask.

“Johnny, leave ‘im alone.” Simon ruffles your hair playfully. “Lad’s just shy.”

“Not shy,” you say amiably. “Just have several sets more nipples than the average person. Bit self conscious about it.”

Johnny’s eyes bug out. “Really?”

Simon swats his arm. “No not really, Johnny. ‘E’s ‘avin’ us on.”

“Did we come here to play football, or did we come here to speculate on the number of nipples I have?” In all fairness, you probably could take off your shirt without worrying about it now. Your scars are a few years old, fully faded, and you’ve put on so much muscle since (and especially since getting to know Simon and Johnny) that you don’t even notice them when you look in the mirror now. Still, the risk of them seeing, the risk of them noticing and treating you differently is not one you’re particularly keen on.

“Sure we came here to play, but tha’s all Ah’m goan ta be able ta think about noo.”

“Well, I don’t see how that’s my problem.”

Simon’s hand comes down on the back of your neck, that affectionate scruff he usually uses on Johnny. “Aw, come on, Rip, ‘e’s not goin’ to be useful to anyone if you don’t. If you’re not shy and you’ve got the normal amount of nipples, don’t see why not.” His hand is heavy, his thumb brushing across the skin under your ear deliberately. “Wun’t mind seein’ the results of all that work you’ve been puttin’ in myself.”

You give him a sharp look for encouraging the other two, but he’s unconcerned, just gently squeezes the back of your neck. Your knees wobble.

SHARE WHAT YOU'RE WORKING ON! I DON'T DO TAGS ABOUT IT BUT IF YOU WANT TO YOU SHOULD! WIP WEDNESDAY FOR EVERYONE.

[aceghosts]

WIP Thursday

Hey everyone! I've been tagged by @nightbloodbix, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @cassietrn, @katsigian, @captastra, @marivenah, and possibly others that I'm forgetting.

Tagging (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @carlosoliveiraa, @captmactavish, @alexxmason, @clicheantagonist, @theelderhazelnut, @direwombat, @strangefable, @amalkavian, @voidika, @cloudofbutterflies92, and anyone else who would like to participate.

I have more snippets from Rooney's CP2077 universe for you, including those listed in this poll. (Not gonna lie, I'm kinda surprised that Rooney's family won, lol.) I'm gonna start with two slightly depressing snippets, and then I also have two small fluffy snippets.

First, let's kick off with the winner of the poll, a snippet from the oneshot about Rooney's family. Also, I have to give a strong warning for this entire fic in general. In Mass Effect, Rooney's background is colonist, which means you are essentially left the sole survivor of your colony after being attacked by batarians. In their AU, Rooney's entire town is attacked by bandits, leaving Rooney the sole survivor. This fic is going to deal with distressing topics. If you need to skip it when I post, please do so. I will also have more detailed warnings when I post the final version of the fic.

As for this snippet, I do want to give a trigger warning that Rooney is not in a good mental state and is very much struggling:

The week that Rooney’s family died is always the worst week of the year. Rooney’s normally unflinching, steady demeanor turns brittle. Their mood is an ever vicious cycle of grief looping into tv-static like numbness, which eventually loops back into a grief that threatens to swallow them whole. Their sleep schedule goes to hell, ghosts haunting them in their dreams. Even in their waking hours, the ghosts still haunt them, always there. Nothing holds any interest for them, and they feel a slight sense of nausea, picking at their meals. The weight of a broken promise weighs heavily on their shoulders, and Rooney feels like they’re drowning underneath it all, exhausted of fighting the tide. All they want to do is hide in their room underneath blankets until the storm passes, when they are finally able grip onto some sense of normality. Most years, they power through, only taking the day of their family’s death off. Their usual ritual is to spend the day alone, writing unsent letters to the ghosts they carry with them. This year is different. The grief hits harder, a dark, black cloud hanging over them. It feels so hard to breathe, to exist. Their limbs feel weighed down, each movement more difficult than the last. They feel so numb to it all, to the whole point of their existence. Perhaps, it’s because they died and now know death intimately. Maybe, it’s the fact they’re stuck in this Arasaka facility, amongst enemies and isolated from their comrades. Maybe, it’s that small glimpse of what they saw between life and death. And then, there is Yorinobu, Rooney’s only friend in this lonely place. They’ve been avoiding him all week, unwilling to let him see them like this. He doesn’t have to know, and Rooney doesn’t want him to think less of them. The grief will pass like it always does, and Rooney will be fine. …Right?

(Also, due to this fic winning, you're probably going to get Rooney and Yorinobu's second meeting first as this fic references that fic.)

Second snippet is from the Relic Malfunction fic. The Relic Malfunction fic is dealing with Yorinobu finding out about Rooney having the Relic in their head and the ending of CP2077. Here is the snippet:

V nods, tears running down their face. “I’m so sorry. I should have-.” “Yes,” Yorinobu cuts in, his tone brutal, “You should be the one dying in their place.” Vik opens his mouth to protect V, but someone else beats him to it. “Yori, stop it. This isn’t V’s fault. If you need to be angry at someone, be angry at me.” Everyone turns to Shepard, awake and alert. Yorinobu sits back down, his hand coming up to cup their cheek. “Rooney, is that-?” “It’s me,” They reassure him, pressing a kiss to the inside of his palm, “Silverhand hasn’t taken over yet.”

And lastly, here are two small snippet from some short fluffy fics. This first one is from a fic inspired by a tumblr post (and is essentially Rooney and Yorinobu shamelessly flirting with one another):

Giving him a curious look, Rooney says, “You have that look again.” “What look?” He asks, shooting them a charming smile. “The one where you’re planning something.” “Possibly,” Yorinobu shrugs, as Rooney continues, their hands coming down to the lapels of his jacket. He shivers underneath their touch. With a heavy sigh, Yorinobu starts, “It is such a shame I am going to this party alone. I wish I had-.” “No,” Rooney replies, a response that would sound curt and brutal to most. Yet, he notices the way the corner of their mouth twitches upward, the humor in their eyes.

This second one is from a prompt:

“Delighted?” They quip, still playing with Yorinobu’s hair. He laughs. “Alexandre and Marion adored you. I thought they were going to ignore me all night.” Rooney remembers how Alexandre and Marion lit up at the sight of Rooney, both getting out of their chairs to greet them. Marion gave them a tight hug, telling Rooney how good it was to see them again. Alexandre gave them a firm handshake, but they couldn’t miss the way he looked at them with incredible fondness and a misty look in his eyes. When Yorinobu and Rooney sat down, Alexandre and Marion overwhelmed Rooney with questions about what Rooney had been doing since they left the Arasaka facility. “I thought the same,” Although Rooney couldn’t be too frustrated, when every time they looked over at Yorinobu, he was watching them a slightly smitten smile on his face, content to let Rooney talk, “I really missed Alexandre and Marion too.”

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @lover-of-mine @giddyupbuck @forthewolves @wildlife4life @gayhoediaz @jeeyuns @rogerzsteven thank you all so much 💖💖💖

another nsfw car smut snippet bc I need to finish this before I get back to writing anything else haha

prev snippet

___

He tries to wrap his arms around Buck’s neck to continue making out with him, but then he hits his elbow against the door and it’s loud, and he winces, which Buck feels and pulls away. It doesn’t really hurt, to be honest, it was more surprising. With Buck, he could forget all about their surroundings wherever they’d be. 

“You okay?” Buck asks with concern mixed with amusement. Eddie just nods impatiently and tries to get back to kissing. Buck indulges him, laughing. “Don’t have enough yet?” he murmurs.

“Of you? Never.” one of Eddie’s hands travels down Buck’s back, feeling the strong muscles under his shirt and desperately needing to feel his skin instead of the fabric, until it reaches his waistband, slipping under it and cupping Buck’s ass. “I need you.” he whispers.

“You got me.” Buck responds amusedly, playfully nipping at Eddie’s bottom lip. “I’m literally right here, baby.” his tone is teasing, as he kisses down Eddie’s jaw. Eddie pinches his asscheek, making him yelp in surprise and laugh.

“Okay, smartass.” he rolls his eyes. “I meant, I need more of you. I need you inside me.” he almost moans, his asshole clenching over nothing, so eager to have it filled and stretched and thoroughly fucked. Shit, he’s so horny tonight.

“Oh, you do, huh?” Buck pulls away enough to look at him, hungry look in his eyes. “Think we should get home first?”

“Isn’t this fun, though?” Eddie gives him a shit-eating grin, and Buck just chuckles, leaning in to kiss him again. 

“So much fun.” he says into the kiss. “I can’t wait to be inside you.” he finally says what Eddie’s been wanting to hear. “But you have to give me a minute to, uh- recharge. And, uh-” he pushes himself up again, shifting uncomfortably, still kneeling on his seat and leaning over, and only now does it occur to Eddie that it’s best if they change positions. The small space of a car might not be perfect for two big guys to have sex, but, well, it’s fun, and they’re making it work. He has no intention of stopping kissing Buck until he gets properly fucked, which means no driving for now. He says so to Buck, who just bursts out laughing. “You have no idea how much I fucking love you.” he breathes out, looking at Eddie with so much softness and adoration (...).

___

no pressure tags: @loserdiaz @diazass @elvensorceress @translasso @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @watchyourbuck @alyxmastershipper @transbuck @jesuisici33 @diazblunt @cowboy-buck @theotherluciferr @911onabc @ladydorian05 @eddiediaztho @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @honestlydarkprincess

[cashweasel]

Wip Wednesday!

Thank you for the tag @lilyoffandoms 💞💞💞

The only wip I have rn is this one of the besties so I share lol,, they’re wearing matching heart necklaces 😌😌

my toxic art trait is that I get so excited to color immediately after doing the faces and once I start that phase I don’t wanna go back and finish the rest of the body but I can’t color stick fingers so I leave it and that’s how I end up with so many wips DHDKSKKSDKJW

Tagging @faustsnemesis @night-triumphantt @sosolenoo @mydemonsdrivealimo @storyofmychoices @nerdferatum

[anderstrevelyan]

wip wheneverday

Tagged by @cleric4vampire to share a wip (thank you!), so here's the draft segment of the I-guess-my-version-of-Gortash-invented-lighters thing I was talking about yesterday—

(It's fundamentally a durgetash first time fic, but it has the setup of durgetash-attempt-a-murder-together)

Skie Silvershield could be considered a beauty, maybe, though her father’s reedy frame and angular features did her no favours. Unique, a suitor might say. Rare. Soft-tongued attempts at obscuring the true motivations in their plays for her hand, more interest in a fulsome dowry than a pretty wife. She knows it, too, it’s why she’s out here in the cool air rather than dancing in the arms of a some shiny boy from a shiny family—and she’s always liked a bit of a scoundrel.  He’s found her passable, the other times they’ve spoken on nights much like this. The only reason Enver’s stayed away, really, is how he finds women some decades her senior more loose with their gifts and their coin. He studies her—dress hiked up so she can lean against the wall with one leg, thoroughly ignoring him, focused on something small in her hands—and looks for his opening. Finds it, and runs a hand through his hair, turns his face into the mask and his mind into the weapon he’ll need to see this through. “Can I light that for you?”

She startles, brown eyes wide with a quick flutter of fear, but relaxes when she looks up into his face. Promising, that she hadn’t realized it was him. That she’d been ignoring just an anonymous figure fresh from the house. There’s even a sparkle of invitation there, he thinks; at least, he’s going to proceed as if there is. “You won’t fare any better,” she says despite it, but he plucks the small lighter from her hand anyway. It’s a Gondian thing, meant to house a flame cantrip on demand, and it’s pretty in its silverwork, but they’re notoriously unreliable. It must have belonged to her father, from his days parading around as the head of Gond’s church, and it’s much like the ones Enver’s taken apart, studied, put back together again, between hours observing the cantrip’s properties across Valas’s fingers. “I mean it,” she says, a laugh in her voice. “Gond himself would struggle to master that thing.” He’s tempted to smash it to the ground, if he thought she’d take it in jest. But perhaps not—he’s not sure how fondly she thinks back on her dearly departed father, how much she knows about who he really was. He imagines she must have expected at least something, living under the same roof, but they do have the most extravagantly large estate in the Gate, and there’s a common naivety, he’s found, to the idea that adherents of the darker faiths walk around in one’s midst. He hands her his glass instead—she accepts it after shifting her pipe to the other hand—and digs through his pocket for his own prototype. She takes a long sip of his wine as he does, her eyes never leaving his, not until he leans against the wall by her side and shows her. His is in gold, the metal more intricately carved, but the real beauty lies in its function. “It was a good idea,” he says of the Gondian lighter, sliding it into her dress’s pocket, “but the magic tends to fade, and they don’t make a reliable spark. But if you use cerium, a metal simple enough to import from Chult, and mix it with iron—” He flicks the mechanism, and a flame appears: almost blue, solid and strong, unwavering as a cleric’s faith. “You could sell these,” she says, then leans forward to light her pipe.  He’d expected a little more awe, or praise of his ingenuity; he wouldn’t have shared the secret behind how it works otherwise. He shouldn’t share such a thing, not with anyone, beyond the Bhaalist who watched him do it, not if he wants to keep the credit for himself, and not as he works to find deadlier uses for metal so adept at producing flame. But, of course—it’s not like she’ll live until morning. There’s a small thrill, at the images he can’t ignore. At the thought of Valas’s violet eyes bright in his manor’s dark shadows; of the tension in his muscles as he waits, watches, springs; and his look of relief and exultant release in the aftermath. At how Enver will cup his chin, still warm and wet with her blood, and force him to look into his eyes, to understand the favour, the gesture, the debt tying them closer together. “Perhaps,” he says, taking back his wine. Slowly, so no brush of emotion shows through, and with intention, his fingers lingering against hers. He takes a sip and considers complimenting her.

[onthewaytosomewhere]

wednesdays are for wips

thank you ever so much @hgejfmw-hgejhsf for the early tag 💕

so apparently finishing i've got you acting like you want more and the second hand unwinds (with its pez/liam blink and you miss it moment) for Hey Sweetheart inspired me to work on that hockey/bookstore wip again so here we go - a bit from that

apparently this bit is long so i guess i'll put it behind a cut

This is the point where Henry has to break in, “You know that you all should really broaden the pool of prospective partners you swim in, right? You have had your thing with Nora and June, and now Liam, apparently one of Alex’s best friends, and, surprise, surprise, also messed around with him. That’s quite the tangled mess.” “Are you saying you wanna jump in our pool, Hazza?” Henry laughs, “My dear Pezza, you and I both realized long ago that was never going to happen between us.” “I wasn’t thinking me, maybe the newly returned brother of your Jane Austen buddy?” “Not sure it would matter even if I did want anything to do with him.” “What’s up with that? Bea mentioned you got all weird on him before he left.” The sigh that leaves Henry’s body feels as if it cut whatever string was holding him up, and he’s glad to have made it up the stairs to his apartment above the shop. “Of course she did. The two of you gossip worse than a bunch of old church biddies. It’s not important. He just said something that struck a nerve, and I got tetchy and didn’t react well. Henry hears Liam talking as he assumes he just arrived at Pez’s - it’s a bit muffled until he presumably enters the same room, and he hears, “Honey, did ya hear that Alex was in Henry’s bookstore today? Nora texted me on my way over here.” Pez’s laugh is loud over the line, and Henry pulls the phone away from his ear, switching it to speaker. “Apparently, all of you are a bunch of gossiping church biddies.” Henry huffs and hears Liam's laugh join Pez’s. “Henry, how are ya? For the record, having been raised in the south, I come by the gossiping church biddy thing naturally.”

and now 🎵it's time for a breakdown🎵 lol - or - it's time for some no-pressure tagging @adreamareads @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @duchessdepolignaca03 @england-would-fall @firenati0n @inexplicablymine @kiwiana-writes @magicandarchery @priincebutt @suseagull04 @typicalopposite

can't wait what wonderful stuff you're all up to ❤️

[indilaras]

WIP Wednesday

Can someone sit me down and make me finish this crustables wip please, it's been sitting there for a hundred years already

ID: an unfinished drawing of Falst and Dainix from Aurora, in chibi style. Falst is carrying Dainix in his arms, looking to the side, frowning and blushing. Dainix is laughing and also blushing, eyes closed. End ID.