#Untitled WIP

[thatswife]

❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

"You smell like shit," Steve informed him, handing him some towels and a change of clothes. Billy swayed where he stood, only steadied by Steve's strong hands gripping his shoulders. Head. Spinning. Floor. Blurry. Everything. Hurt. This is not how I imagined him touching me. But then again, I just came back from the dead, so I guess beggars can't be choosy.

[persevereforahappyending]

WIP Wednesday Last Sentence You Wrote

As always thank you for the tag @uncleasad. Kind of kept forgetting to do this all night.

Make a new post with the last sentence* you wrote on your current WIP* (and tag some friends if you want)

She knew what would happen if she did, she would cave, they would talk, then, she didn’t know what, but she knew she wasn’t ready for that, not yet.

From Untitled WIP (aka idea #4), Chapter 2

[r0b0tb0y]

btw Skeleton Crew had me rent asunder in such a specific way

[littedidyouknow]

*sigh*. I’m very tired of my own brain. So I just had a discussion with someone at work (and it really, literally lasted no more than 5 minutes). And then i got the urge to write this thing when I really (really) shouldn’t be starting anything right now. And certainly shouldn’t be writing at work, either lol.

But anyways here we are so have an unedited snippet of this untitled wip that was just born and for which I already have 800 words apparently 🤷‍♀️

Happy WIP Wednesday!

“I’m sorry, M’am. But if there are no further signs than this, we can’t—“

“I’m telling you there are,” the voice was desperate.

And Rhys hated anyone being desperate, but this voice especially.

He was moving before he realized.

“I’m very sorry Mrs—“

“Miss,” the woman corrected with a rougher voice than before. “It’s Miss—“

“Archeron,” Rhys filled in as he finally stepped in near them.

All three heads turned towards him.

Nuala and her apologetic face.

Miss Archeron—Feyre—and her alarmed one.

And—

“Hey there, Missy Juliet,” Rhys said softly at the child in her mother’s arms. “What’s wrong with you?”

There was a silence, during which the small set of eyes only blinked at him.

And then, it was Nuala who said,

“I already told them we can’t—“

“We’re just leaving,” Feyre sighed—a painful sigh Rhys would have preferred not hearing. “We’re just—“

“What’s wrong?” He repeated softly, for her this time, as he met her blue-grey eyes. “What’s going on with her?”

Feyre swallowed. As if on instinct, she tightened her arms around Juliet and said, very slowly, “she’s… she’s just not—“ she shook her head, glancing at Nuala for a second before her eyes turned back to Rhys. “I know it’s nothing. But she’s absolutely exhausted. She’s never been like this, I—“

And Rhys knew it, too. He’d first met the pair of them a couple of months ago, when they’d been admitted in the hospital for chest pains on Juliet’s part. And Rhys had worked with worried parents—the ones who looked up the internet for any symptoms they thought their children had and ended up somehow convinced they were the doctor here. He knew overbearing. He knew overconfident.

Feyre wasn’t.

Feyre was always quiet in her worry, always careful.

If she had made the trip, it was because something was wrong.

“Let’s get you checked up,” Rhys said reassuringly with a small smile to the child—who, indeed, seemed absolutely out of strength. “Alright? Let’s get you—“

“Should I call for a nurse, Dr. Knight?”

Nuala’s voice was gentle, her hand was already on the phone when she asked.

And Rhys couldn’t blame her, either—with anyone else, he would have nodded, and gone back to his friends waiting behind him.

But…

“No, I’ll take care of it, Nuala,” he flashed her an easy smile. “No worries. Will you tell Cass to go ahead without me?”

[theothermaidoftarth]

My new moodboard for my as-yet unnamed Nettles x Cregan Fire and Blood au oneshot. The premise of which is basically, what if Rhaenyra sent Nettles north to ensure Cregan Stark’s support. And get her away from a certain someone who is a little too intrigued by her. Two birds, one stone. Or even, two dragons, one (very lucky) scorpion-shot.

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

WIP Wednesday

Never in [Tony's] life had he ever seen a breakfast sandwich disappear so quickly. His kid was acting as though he’d not eaten in weeks and was convinced he’d never have the opportunity to do so again. It was like watching a feral cat with a stolen hotdog. “Did you even taste that?”

[klywrites]

I've been tagged in a lot of writeblr games over the past 371 years, I hope this kinda makes up for it.

Untitled WIP. Don't have details yet, mostly just vibes.

Also, thanks to @revenantlore for helping me decide on Eli's name (Elijah Ian Porter). Mason doesn't have a last name yet, if anyone wants to throw some at me.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The last boots had echoed down the corridor twenty minutes ago. Laughter gone, doors slammed shut, silence swallowing the space whole. Only the buzz of the fluorescent lights remained, jittery and uneven.

Eli stayed behind. He always did. There was something comforting in the quiet. Predictable. The only other sound was the soft beep of the scanner, the dull scrape of boxes shifting on concrete.

Then he caught the smell—smoke. Faint. Then, languid footsteps across the floor.

“Christ, Porter. You always hang around after hours,” Mason called from the loading bay, voice casual, “or are you secretly part of some smuggling ring?”

Eli kept his head down. Scanned another box.

Mason’s boots echoed as he stepped further inside, lazy, unbothered. He had a cigarette in his mouth, half-lit, and a lighter in his hand that he flicked open and shut.

“You really don’t talk much, huh?” he said. “Starting to think it’s one of two things. Either you’re hiding something... or you’re scared of saying too much.”

Still no answer.

Mason made a low noise in his throat, half amusement, half challenge. “I’m betting on the first. Guys like you don’t stay quiet unless there’s something worth hiding.”

Eli slid a crate into place a little harder than necessary. “You’re off shift.”

“So are you,” Mason shot back, grinning around the cigarette.

Eli turned just enough to glance at him, his jaw set, eyes hard. “I’m working. You’re loitering.”

“Loitering,” Mason repeated, chewing the word. “Damn. Big word for a guy who doesn't say much.”

Eli didn’t bite. He went back to the boxes.

“You always this charming at parties?” Mason asked.

“I don’t go to parties.”

“Colour me shocked,” Mason muttered. “You’ve got that whole tortured loner vibe going on. Real brooding and mysterious. Real sexy, if you’re into repressed types.”

That got Eli to stop.

Mason caught it—the hesitation in his movement, the faint shift of weight like he was about to say something and thought better of it.

Then Eli dropped the scanner onto the crate, a little too hard. The thud echoed like a warning.

“I’m not here to flirt.”

Mason raised a brow. “Didn’t say you were.” He took a slow drag, eyes on Eli like he was trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. “But if you were,” he added, mouth curling into a smirk, “you’d be terrible at it.”

Eli turned then, fully. “You get off on pushing people?”

Mason stepped closer, unbothered. Close enough that the smoke hit sharp in Eli’s face.

“Only the ones who push back,” Mason said, voice low and smooth. Then, with that smirk twisting into something else, he added, “You look like you’d be worth it.”

Eli’s eyes narrowed. His whole body seemed stiller than before. Tighter. Controlled. But inside, he could feel his heart pressing against his ribcage, pressure building like a dam about to break.

“Careful,” he said lowly. “Don't act like you know me.”

Mason leaned in, just slightly. Enough to tip the tension forward, just past the edge of harmless.

“You're right, I don't,” he said. “Not yet.” And then—because he couldn’t help himself—he leaned in further, and in the same low, smooth voice: “Bet you've thought about it though, getting to know each other.”

Eli didn’t respond. Didn’t blink. But something flickered. A spark behind the eyes. A shift in the air between them. It was enough to make Mason’s grin twitch, a flash of satisfaction, because he'd lit a match and saw it land. Just for a second before the latch closed. It ignited something in Eli, he was sure of it.

Mason stepped back then, slow and deliberate, like he was proud of himself.

The silence dragged as he made his way toward the door, cigarette trailing smoke behind him like a taunt.

“See you tomorrow, sunshine,” he tossed over his shoulder.

The door creaked open. Then slammed shut.

Eli stood still. The low hum of the fluorescent lights could not distract him from the pounding in his chest. Not this time. Maybe not ever again, as long as Mason was around. Now that the air between them could fuel a fire.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

🌹

Before BBF, there was BWE (brother's worst enemy 😆). It's a Rooster x Seresin!Reader wip that has yet to see the light of day. Enjoy!

He glances around at the commuters stepping off the trolley, trying to pick out the blondes that might resemble his colleague, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns his head, just as you say, “Rooster, right?”

He blinks at you, slightly disoriented. You look nothing like Hangman, thank fuck, because Bradley is mesmerized and, as inappropriate as this reaction is, it would make it that much worse if you did. He gives you a sideways grin. “What gave me away?” he says.

“My brother told me to find the dorkiest guy at the station,” you respond, grinning at him.

Bradley chuckles. “So, you’re walking to Texas, then,” he says, stepping around you.

You laugh, struggling to redirect the wheels of your suitcase.

Bradley bends down to grab the handle. “I can take that,” he says, tucking away the retractable bar and lifting it off the ground by the strap.

“Thanks,” you say, cringing slightly as Bradley lifts the luggage as though you’re embarrassed by its weight.

But after the countless exercise drills over the years, Bradley hardly notices that it’s heavy. In fact, he could probably carry it over his head. He eyes you inconspicuously as you fall in step with him, wondering if perhaps that might impress you – not that he wants to impress you.

[deans-baby-momma]

Posting this to see if there is any interest.....it's pre- and post 15x20 SPN.

As soon as he was done chopping the head off of the last vampire, Dean knew what he needed to do.

He and his brother had just obliterated a nest of 15 vampires, but it hadn't been easy. He had narrowly avoided getting shoved into a piece of rebar sticking out of a support beam in the seedy and dilapidated barn. Something that would've been fatal.

Dropping Sam back at the Bunker, Dean pointed the Impala northeast. It would take him eight hours, but he needed to go. He needed her.

Never in his life had he felt this way, this pull to another person. Even with Lisa, he’d never felt this way; the need, the want, the desire to be in their presence.

It is an, as of yet, untitled WIP of roughly 7,500 words.

If there is interest, I'll finish-yes, FINISH-it and post.

Just send me an ask, message or reply.

@spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam   @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @purpleeclipseeggsland @kmc1989 @leigh70

[bastetwastaken]

A deal with the devil

A snippet from my untitled Demon/Human romance WIP~

"Can I ask you something?" The human said, he nodded. "Um… Why did you help me?" Good fucking question. He had no idea how to answer it, but he had to say something…he shrugged. "Because I think we can help each other out." "Really?" The human laughed weakly. "How's that?" "Well, I'm a demon." He pointed at himself. "You're a human." He pointed at the other. "I can offer you things which no other human could possibly provide you with. I could give you the world, bring people to their knees, make power yours for the taking." The human hummed, he seemed unimpressed. "And what if I don't want power, or the world." "Then I can make you feel things which no other human would be able to." He said with a smile. "You can feel it, can't you? What my presence does to your body? To your mind? I can give you anything you like, fulfill any desire you might have. Is that not appealing to you?" "I doubt there are many it wouldn't be appealing to." The human said with another quiet laugh. He caught the way the human looked down at his body, he'd done that a few times since they'd started talking, and he knew what those looks meant. "If I were to ask you what you want, right now, what would you ask for?" He said, watching the human closely. He could practically hear his mind working, searching for an answer to his question. His brow creased, lips set in a hard line and he stayed silent until eventually he seemed to find something. "I…want to feel alive again. I want to experience something real." The human said quietly, voice just above a whisper. His lips curled into a smile. "What if I told you that I can give you that?" He moved closer, inches between them now. "And much more too, but I have to warn you that such desires come with a price. Are you willing to pay?" The human frowned but didn't move away, he was silent for a moment but then his face relaxed and he sighed. "Am I allowed to ask what that price is before I agree?" He laughed, many never thought of asking him that question, just another curiosity of the human in front of him he supposed. "You are." He said. "Your essence is the price. Each time we meet I will take a small part of your essence with me when I return to Hell. The more you indulge, the more you lose." The human looked back at him in silence for a while, seemingly weighing up his options but then he smiled. "So you get my essence, and I get…anything I want?" The human asked, eyes moving down to his lips which pulled into a smile. "That's right." He said. "And you take my essence when you leave… so the more I take from you, the more you take from me?" "When I leave this plane, yes." He nodded. "You're right." He waited patiently whilst the human looked back into his eyes, it was getting harder for him to hold back the temptation to use his power on him, to just speed the whole process up but no, he had to do this right. He’d already made enough mistakes with this one human, he wouldn’t make any more. "Sure, why not." "So be it." He smirked, reaching out to caress the humans cheek softly. It was so close now, he could practically taste it. "Tell me your name, and I’ll give you mine. Then, we’ll be bound.”

[youmaycallmeyourhighness]

Wip Wednesday - Untitled

Vi flips her lid.

“Fucking fine! Go!”

She snarls and aimless fists glance off Powder’s shoulder as she darts inside. Vi groans and gets back to work, quietly stewing.

An hour later wiry arms wrap around her torso from behind, they give a tight squeeze but are ready to move if Vi wants to swing again. It's their usual song and dance, almost right on time.

Vi reaches behind her and slides a hand through soft hair. She gives little scritches and knocks the bun loose, blue locs spilling everywhere.

Apology accepted.

[persevereforahappyending]

WIP Wednesday Last Sentence You Wrote

Appreciate the tag as always @uncleasad. This is always now officially a WIP. This is also the very start of the scene I was telling you I was really excited to get to @uncleasad.

Make a new post with the last sentence you wrote on your current WIP (and tag some friends if you want)

“Sit the fuck down,” you snapped, your tone completely changing from what it had been mere seconds again.

From Untitled WIP (aka idea #4), Chapter 2

[quarantineddreamer]

🌀 !!

Static!! Hello, dear friend and thank you for the ask 💕

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

Hmmmm what's a story I haven't mentioned to you yet... Sooo forever ago someone sent me a prompt 'things you said with too many miles between us' and believe it or not I STILL wanna answer that prompt and do have most of a story written for it (lil snippet below but the base concept is RC is on a mission and jyn doesnt show up for the rendezvoux and cass just loses his mind and has to go after her against all reasonable logic mwah)

He stepped forward–eager to put distance between himself and the bodies of the dead Imperial officers, to move closer to her. “Jyn, just tell me where–” He stopped mid sentence as the toe of his boot slipped, something slick beneath his feet. Looking down, he found a small pool of blood, scarlet droplets receding down the stark white floors of the hall. It painted a ghastly image, sent a cold lash of lightning flickering through his insides.  The blood didn’t belong to the motionless corpses of the officers, though he supposed there was a faint possibility it belonged to a different enemy–one Jyn had wounded. But deep down he knew.  There was a slight tremor to Cassian’s hand when he pressed the comm button again. “You’re hurt…” “It’s nothing,” she grunted, but this time he heard past the static to the note of pain in her tone.  Distantly, he was aware he was in a base swarming with enemies–that he ought to be proceeding slowly, carefully, taking the time to soften his footfalls, clear each corner–but he was beyond such logic now. Mindless to the drumming of his feet, Cassian chased after the trail of blood, locked to it like a homing signal.

Ask me about a WIP

[the-blind-assassin-12]

WIP WEDNESDAY (thursday edition)

@burntheedges & @sixhours (thanks, lovelies!) both tagged me to share a snippet from a wip, so I shall share two snippets from two wips.

-from ch. 3 of Recall:

It was something, though you weren’t sure it answered the second part of Champ’s question - about who was actually running Project Aster. And perhaps more importantly, how. 

“Maybe,” Champ muttered. “You should get in touch with Merlin. Let him know what Maraschino just puzzled together. See if you can get him to focus on only crackin’ the files that coincide for now. Maybe there’s more clues that we’re missin’.” 

Ginger immediately did as he asked, filling her Kingsman counterpart in on what the three of you had just discussed. As she finished, so did the countdown on your watch, three long beeps coming from the device on your wrist. Whipping around towards the recovery bays, you took a breath and held it as you watched the visor lift… 

…And the man beneath it start to sit up.

---

-from an untitled one shot:

“It’s illegal to camp in these woods.” You state the fact despite being sure that he’s well aware of the laws he’s breaking.

His mustache twitches as his grin widens, light flickering in his dark eyes. “Indeed it is,” he says with a nod. His tone is even and calm, almost hypnotically so. Arching one brow, he tilts his head to the side and brings his right hand up to his hip. “As is straying from the trails.” He gestures towards the leafy undergrowth you’re standing knee-high in to illustrate his point. “Though I am sure you already knew that, given that you are well-versed enough in the law of this wild land that you kindly informed me of my own wrongdoing.”   

---

thanks again for tagging me, friends! looking forward to getting both of these finished! tagging a few who might want to play along, but anyone who sees this should consider themselves tagged, too!

@grogusmum @secretelephanttattoo @sp00kymulderr @insomniamamma @chronically-ghosted

[theothermaidoftarth]

I quite like this moodboard so I’m posting it even though I have another official one. This is for my untitled asoiaf house swap oneshot (an au of a longer multichap au) where a slightly aged up Brienne is born into House Baratheon (yes, she’s still blonde - I know, rip canon), Robert’s sister and after his rebellion, she is married to Willas Tyrell.

[artiodaktyl]

Happy Friday the 13th! Apparently I like my trans boys spooky and my animals haunted 👻🎃