#my wips

[mimirose113]

Would you read this fic, if I actually finished it?

Summary

Darry and Ponyboy had been in a wreck. Both were laid up in hospital, hurt so bad they were not even awake to provide a tiny modicum of reassurance to the middle Curtis, who was fretting himself into an early grave.

Eventually, three days later, Darry opened his eyes. Weak and groggy. In pain and barely able to move.

But alive.

Soda hugged him for 10 minutes straight, sobbing in relief, thanking whatever deity was listening. Darry held him as tight as he was able, apologising for no reason, promising not to scare him again.

Things were finally seeming brighter, the clouds looming overhead not so dark.

Then Ponyboy died.

The youngest of them, gone from the world.

Another tragedy to befall the Curtis family.

You may think that's what this story is about. The dreadful hand that was dealt to our favourite family that night.

But it's not.

It's about the terrible events that occurred after.

After Ponyboy dies, Soda contemplates suicide. And inadvertently nearly causes Darry's death instead.

[valiasims]

WIP#26

Hey everyone!

I've started working on the next part of the Cozy Cabin which will be a dining room set. I already made two items a cupboard and a dining table. (The other objects on the picture are from the previous set.)

I really enjoy making these items, I'm fully in the autumn zone. Can't wait to add some autumn clutter objects to this set to make this table more lively.

Btw thank you everyone who followed me, we've reached 3000 followers on Patreon! I'm so thankful for everyone who decided to follow or become a patron. It always makes me so happy if you leave a nice comment or share my work on Tumblr.

[grape-souffle]

A little hint for something else I'm working on...

[cha-melodius]

I'm getting to the point where I have no idea what to share from this fic, nor what to say about it lmao. Have some action to liven up your Wednesday evening.

From here, he’s got a straight shot to the door, but there’s no question that if he tried it like this, he’d get shot. His eyes land on a light switch, and he tracks the electrical cabling that emerges from it to a control panel not far from where the guards are standing. Or were standing—they’ve stopped shooting and are advancing on his position, so it’s now or never. He takes a deep breath, trying to center himself despite the situation. It’s just another stunt, so he counts it down. One. The knife is heavy in his grip, and he hefts it, testing the balance. Two. Heavy footsteps on the concrete grow closer, echoing in the massive building. The guards are sticking close together. Three. He pops out from behind the crates and slings the knife toward the guards, who both dodge away from the projectile. Alex is aiming for the box behind them, though, and the giant knife embeds itself with a satisfying thunk and a crackling shower of sparks. An instant later, the lights in the warehouse go out.

Thanks to @clottedcreamfudge, @justabigoldnerd, @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @pippinoftheshire, and @orchidscript for the tags today. Open tag for anyone who hasn't done this today, plus I'll throw my handy tag list under the cut.

@cricketnationrise @rmd-writes @tintagel-or-cockleshells @firenati0n @blueeyedgrlwrites

@iboatedhere @porcelainmortal @thesleepyskipper @wolfpup026 @three-drink-amy @eusuntgratie

@faketrex @lilythesilly @14carrotghoul @sparklepocalypse @indestructibleheart

@myheartalivewrites @ninzied @wordsofhoneydew @leaves-of-laurelin @nicijones

@mirilyawrites @onthewaytosomewhere @getmehighonmagic @miss-minnelli @suseagull04

[princess-of-morkva]

to find you again

Arthur Pendragon was ten years old when his world finally began to make sense.

It was in his fifth grade, when his class went on a week long camping trip. He didn't know, at the time, what compelled him to sneak out of the tent in the wee hours of the morning, when the first rays of dawn lit up the treetops and his legs carried him towards the shore of a lake. It's surface was shimmering in morning light, and he could feel his breath halt, afraid to disturb the serenity of the sight that felt so otherworldly. It may have been some divine compulsion or simply his innate, childish desire to explore that made him go further, then, until his rubber flipflops were left on the shore and his bare feet touched the water.

There was a hand then, that rose out of the water, translucent and not entirely present, an image out of mist. There was a hand, and then another, and then the head and the body — a figure arose from the lake, smiling at the little boy that intruded her realm.

"Hello, Arthur." She spoke, and her voice didn't carry through the air like a human's would, rather, it sang with the wind, hit the ears like tiny drops meeting the water. "It's good to meet you at last."

He stared at her, for a long moment, before answering.

"How do you know me?" He frowned at her. Father told him not to talk to strangers, and this might have been a very pretty woman made out of mist, but she was still very much a stranger. Still, he didn't step out of the lake, for his curiosity was much greater than his father's teachings which felt so far away at the moment, and there was no one around to see anyway.

"The world speaks to me. I can't leave this lake, but I can see far beyond it." Her answer was not an answer at all, Arthur thought. His confusion must've been evident, because she smiled at him again, and there was a mischievous hint in the corner of her lips that made her look not so much like a spirit in a lake but a living and breathing young girl, but the next second it was gone and Arthur was left to wonder if he imagined it entirely.

"Why can't you?" He asked.

"It's were I was put to rest." She spoke the words so evenly, as all of the things she previously said, that it took Arthur a few seconds to catch the meaning of it.

"Does that mean you're dead?" He asked, hoping not to offend her with it.

"Not exactly. I'm here, aren't I?" Once again, her answer gave more questions than it answered.

"There are ghosts." He said. Arthur wasn't sure there were, actually. His father didn't believe in such things.

"I am different from ghosts."

"What are you then?"

"A guardian."

Arthur nodded, as if it made perfect sense. It didn't.

"Do you have a name?" He asked. It was only polite to ask for a person's name when first meeting them. Than again, lake-guardian-spirits could have entirely different etiquette.

"I was called Freya, once." There was a small smile, again.

Arthur nodded musingly.

"It's a pretty name."

She hummed.

"Do you often speak to people?" He never heard of such entities as her. It couldn't have been a common occurrence, surely. But wouldn't that be lonely? Having no one to talk to?

She shook her head, and there was a wistful look in her eyes.

"I haven't spoken to anybody in centuries." That couldn't have been nice, Arthur thinks. If she could speak to him, why didn't she speak to others?

"Why'd you speak to me than?" Freya didn't answer immediately, pausing the flow of their measured back-and-forth. It almost looked like she was unsure, but her features were still so calm, it was impossible to tell.

Then, she asked. "Do you have dreams, sometimes?"

It was a silly question. Everybody had dreams. Arthur understood immediately though, it wasn't the regular kind of dreams she was talking about.

Because the thing is, Arthur did have dreams. Ever since he was little. He remembers dreaming of white towers and battlements, of bright red banners and capes. Of metal clanging and laughter and a weight of a sword in his hand, on his hip. Of familiar faces he could never quite place. Of raven curls and bright blue eyes, especially often.

He never told his father about them — he'd call such things foolish. Arthur didn't think they were.

Arthur looked at Freya and nodded. There was a glim of relief in her eyes, he thought.

"Would you like to see more?" She asked, offering him her hand. Not solid in any common way of the world but in that moment, more real than any other thing around them.

Arthur didn't think twice before grasping it.

-----

please tell me if you'd like to see more of it because i love the thing in my head so far

where is merlin in it? he's gonna be there. with a twist. it's a reincarnation fic but with a twist. it's also very merthur. or as much as it can ever get with my aromantic ass.

also it's modern au but i still haven't decided on a more specific setting- should i do college au? i'd be horrible at it even though it would make sense thematically- i haven't been outside in years how does society function? how do i write it?

can you see i love freya? i love her very much

[bvckbiter]

in another life, the exiled trio are celebrating the first day of fall tgt 😔

[slut4procrastination]

let's see if i ever finish this piece...

instagram | twitter | art account | pinterest | prints

[bidisasterevankinard]

so hard to choose from all these wips but pls gimme some of:

🔄🔄🔄

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

📝📝📝📝📝

👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳

yeah months after but I finally got toanswer it (I'm sorry <333)

9 from 7x4 reverse with Sal:

“So, how was football?” Tommy aims for feigned disinterest, missing some lightness in tone for it to be believable, but Sal just drugs and smiles.

“It was fine. Kid got us good tickets. And it was cool to watch the game with someone who doesn’t moan every second about how bored he is.”

“Hey, I don’t moan!”

“Yeah, you're right. You whine like a baby who wants cuddles from their mama.”

“I don’t whine,” whines Tommy and on Sal’s smirk and a raised eyebrow answers with silence, changing the tactic.

9+ for break up and make up after 7s au:

“And then Sal …” when Evan says the name it’s like the lever inside his mind is yanked down and his brain is off. Evan’s voice is around him but he hears nothing. It’s like the headphones are put on him and he can make some outside noise, but not enough to actually comprehend anything. He just sits there, passing his food, not in the mood to eat. His stomach feels too easy to make sick.

“..my! Tommy!” the louder when before voice and the touch of his shoulder makes him jump in his seat and Evan takes his hand away. “Sorry, you just weren't answering me and I asked if you wanted to come to my place or you wanted me to come to yours as you seem pretty tired,” Evan smirks, but his usual playfulness and Tommy tries to answer but big blue eyes go sadder.

He guesses he didn’t fool Evan.

“Sorry, Evan, I’m really tired and have a headache. Want to be alone. If it’s ok?”

15 for Justin knows best:

“From what I saw he was,” Mr. Russo’s voice answers, “he was almost eye fucking you during renovations.”

“I’m sure he did it not to me, but to Eddie. Or should I remind you that it’s him he took to Vegas and I’ve got only one Harbor tour that I asked about.”

Justin nods to sadness in Mr.B voice feeling the anger on his uncle and Mr.Diaz getting higher. They broke his perfect plan and made Mr. B sad.

“First, Eddie was on the other side of the room and those big blue eyes were still taking off your tank top and shorts. Second, I remember about Vegas. You were mopping about it a lot recently,” Mr. Russo listed. “Maybe it was just a friendly fly? I mean they watched a fight together. If you ask me I’d fight a guy who takes me to a fight as a first date because I hate it. And you too.”

“Yeah, I thought it too,” Mr. says and then he somehow gets sadder, “but it wasn’t only Vegas. They also worked over Eddie’s Chavele. And yesterday they went to Karaoke trivia together. And Eddie asked me to babysit,” Mr. B whines the last sentence and Justin sees red. 

and 15 for second part on I wanna dance with you universe

“What is it?” Evan asks and Tommy shrugs, giving him a playful look, and waits for him to open the box, loving the laugh Evan makes when he reads the custom inscription.

Still laughing, Evan takes the bright pink apron out and turns it so that Tommy can read it, bold black lettering makes him smirk again.

He’s my favorite housewife

“So you want me as your housewife?” Evan asks.

“Do you like it,” Tommy ignores the question.

“I like the color and the title but only if it’s a joke. Because if it’s not, it's like a huge red flag and I’m gonna run from here right now.”

Tommy hugs the perfect waist, kissing the neck, loving the shiver that goes over Evan’s body, “just a joke, baby of course. And now as far as I remember,” Tommy nuzzles into Evan's neck, biting it, “I was promised that if I'll buy you apron you love, I can fuck you in it. Only in it,” Tommy whispers in Evan’s ear and  bites the skin right near it.

“I-I did say it, didn’t I?” Evan puts his hand in his hair pushing his head till their lips meet.

Using his body weight Tommy pushes his boyfriend till he’s near the counter and then sits him there, not breaking the kiss, with pleasure swallowing the moan Evan makes.

Ending the kiss Tommy gets back to working on Evan’s neck, while his boyfriend unbuttons his shirt.

[moonlitmothman]

I finished Delicious in dungeon and i cri

i want more of the characters, i love them dearly laios is such a goofy man and i adore him

[inkpotsprite]

So, I've got a few WIPs and a quick question for anyone that's reading them.

[2jihiir0]

work in progress \\\\\

[b0nk0]

COOL WIP??

(very small and subtle spoiler warning? idk)

its MUICHIRO :D FROM DEMON SLAY☁️

i wanted to mock the og art style of the show and i like how it turned out ngl

6 eyes (kokushibo) is holding the rose against bros head 🧛‍♀️

REF

Okay toodles! 🪐

[loki-is-my-kink-awakening]

WIP Wednesday

Lokius undercover BDSMverse. Loki angst (but I promise this fic also has Mobius angst and a happy ending)

Loki leaned closer to the mirror on the wall above the sink and liberally coated their lips in a deep burgundy lipstick. This close, they could see the faint circles under their eyes, deepening with each night they spent tossing and turning alone. The opulent bedroom was nothing like the TVA’s with its small confined cells, single beds and scratchy covers, but the comfort of silk sheets couldn’t ease the loneliness they felt from sleeping alone in that large bed. Stepping back, they rubbed their lips together and considered their outfit. The green of their dress was deep enough to match the harsh black of the collar around their neck, but it still stood out, as it was intended to do. A mark of ownership that was a blatant lie. They closed their eyes and reached around the back and felt the hidden second lock that hadn’t fastened. Taking a deep breath, they looked themself in the mirror and rolled back their shoulders, standing tall. “You can do this. You can make this mission a success.” The words didn’t quite sound true, not when their treacherous heart beat in their chest, threatening to ruin everything but wanting what they could not have. It was tempting to imagine running back to Ravonna and begging her to send someone else to replace them. They wouldn’t do it, not at the expense of making more of a mess than they already had. With one final glance at their bright, shining eyes, they turned and walked out to head downstairs and face Mobius.

Tags below the cut

Tagged by @elodiah @lokimobius @insert-witty-user-name-here 💕💕💕

Passing onto writers and artists to see what you're up to

@in-my-loki-feels @impulsemuppet @moriarty-sisters @mobiusismycomfortcharacter @thosegayoldmen

@boredintjqueen @wolfpup026 @devilbearingtrouble @lgwilt @natendo-art

@distracteddream @underthebluerain @cha-melodius @loki-tree-of-life @starport-seven-five

@dreamycloud @dewdropreader @mirilyawrites @albatheowl @rin-love-is-green

[whiteelordaart]

Jason Chibi Progress

Flat colour progress.

I’m thinking of opening an Etsy shop and having this guy as a keychain!

[detectivebambam]

tears for the word game ?

i love making Andrew cry

"Neil wrapped his arms around Andrew's shoulders as he cried tears of relief."

[bvckbiter]

IN CELEBRATION OF THALIA CASTING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!