#WIP snips

[h-doodles]

anyways im all drawn out this tender 3 am but mrrp! wip snip on unfinished art for not going anywhere (pt.1) by @sarahpaulsonsoftie <3

You wandered into Marilyn’s Conservatory seeing her sitting with Larissa on her desk, mugs in both of their hands, and a third mug sitting beside you. Marilyn grinned, picking up the mug and handing it to you.

You smiled gratefully at her, accepting the mug. “Thank you.” You murmured, taking a sip of the coffee, (...)

- excerpt from the fic :)

if u cant tell this was actually my fave line and i wish i was a writer that i could expand THIS scene bc i always imagine Larissa & Marilyn tenderly looking @ reader who's just. peacefully enjoying their time together like!!!!!!!!! girl they're literally so domestic it's cavity inducing!!!!!!

[eldritchmochi]

haven't really written anything AND this is from a while ago but i finally remembered to post this on a Wednesday thusly: coping skills noodling

[boyslit]

#ficwip's WIP Wednesday word is "guest" which, luckily for exactly one person (me) I found in my Guy/Toa not-really-even-a-coherent-plot-just-scattered-daydream-scenes document...

-

Guy's eyes skim over the words in the book Toa's focus seems glued to. "Rather dry selection for pleasure reading," he offers, a smirk curling his lip. Toa hadn't turned a page since he'd entered the room. It was part of their game, then.

"Hm. It's suitable enough."

Guy lifts the book with one hand, placing it on the coffee table, and turns Toa's chin with the other to face him. His heart skips a beat as Toa's deep sapphire eyes pin him with a haughty look. "I accepted your invitation, and I will have your attention. Pretending to ignore me is childish."

Toa's lips part slightly as Guy's thumb brushes along his jaw. "As is demanding the attention of others."

"Hmph." Guy's thumb brushes just the edge of Toa's lower lip, causing a shudder. "Is it not simple courtesy to offer an invited guest your attention?" Toa blinks slowly under the hungry scrutiny of Guy's ruby gaze. Guy huffs quietly, too impatient this evening to play along. "There are other means than this ridiculous game to show you how I desire you," he murmurs.

[this-is-not-a-slow-burn]

I WANNA KNOW ABOUT UR WIPS !!!!

You got it babe!! (ew is that weird. idk I think my inner Harry Du Bois came out there)

Currently they're all Cyberpunk 2077. Mostly Kerry/M!V but one Silverdyne Johnny-has-a-body Post-ending current era, with flashbacks.

But, thanks to this Canadian DJ I know, there's a Geraskier brewing in my brain.

Here's a couple of snips from the two Cyberpunk WIPs

V/Kerry:

V strips as he heads to the bathroom, tossing the pants and shirt onto the fragrant pile near the front door. Johnny materializes in the bathroom mirror's reflection, sprawled against the back wall, making a real show of checking out V’s ass. He’s doing it just to be a dick, and V can’t help but laugh a little despite being annoyed that Johnny can’t feel this headache coming on. The intensity of Johnny’s staring is more than a little unnerving, but the longer he stands there the more V’s starting to believe that maybe he is enjoying the view. He slowly slides a hand down his chest, stopping just as the bare skin turns from above the waist to below. Johnny’s face screws up into a grimace and he glitches out. V barks out a small laugh, vision swimming as he shakes his head. Johnny was right. This is what you get when you have a busted biochip in your head and only drink a beer and a tube of warm vitamin goop for breakfast

And this is the Silverdyne one

Between the clean sheets in a wide bed lies a man who isn’t awake, but isn’t asleep. In the pauses of his breath lies a city full of sound.  

If the only way out is through, there were some painful and uncomfortable situations ahead.  Nothing like a hangover to remind you of that. At least, he’s assuming that’s the reason he feels like a half dead raccoon on the side of the road. 

It wouldn’t be out of the question for this to be a hangover, even with a history of  hard partying. Of being a local bar band turned recording turned touring band. By the time he’d gone solo his tolerance was jacked up so high that it was a miracle he could even get drunk. This new body has never seen a bender stretch on for a week, and it shows. There’s no sleep happening, for the third day in a row, which is fine, a little delirium sparks creativity when the timing is right. Still would have been nice to maybe dream a little. But the nicotine addiction is one thing his brain never managed to forget, and it gnaws at his skull until he rolls over and slaps the tiled floor, groping one hand around in the mess blindly — he was hoping to find at least one smoke left in the pack in his pants — sighing as he comes up empty handed. Nada. Karma all used up.

[ladyyatexel]

Bits and Pieces of B5

Bits of things that I've been accumulating for years and never posted or finished posting.

On this front, I've been doing most work on being able to put up the rest of 'Portraits,' which is the one where we didn't have the worst possible ending and Na'Toth fills in as a temp for bodyguard duties for G'Kar and she spends 2 or 3 months like 'what the actual Fuck has been going on over here with these two' on Centauri Prime.

So everything exists in that world, really! This is already too much detail for a "do you want to read WIP chunks" post so let's go look at BITS AND PIECES

I hope you enjoy these 🥲

This is part of Portraits:

"Why does G’Kar stay?"

"I do not know." Mollari's answer was unexpectedly swift as he picked through his food for bits he particularly liked.  "I have reminded him that he is free to leave from nearly the moment he arrived, but… Well, he is stubborn.” He poked pieces of food as he listed G’Kar’s traits.  “Persistent.  Nosy. Likes being in the way."

"Suited to you, then."

"I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered." He tilted a small nod in her direction.  "Well done."

She took a sip of her drink.  If Mollari was offering direct answers, Na'Toth was going to take them.  

“Why did you choose G'Kar to be your bodyguard?”

“I didn't. Delenn chose him for me.”

“But he stayed, Mollari.  Long after he --”

“You would have to take that up with him,” Mollari said as he shrugged.

====

This is Probably? Portraits. Like the gentle falling off parts that actually include G'Kar in the flesh and not just in concept:

“Am I interrupting you two bonding?” 

G'Kar stood in the doorway with a small pile of rolls and baked goods loosely wrapped in a bundle he had tucked into his elbow.  He held some kind of jelly-filled confection in the opposite hand. 

Mollari immediately tossed his hands up in frustration.  “G'Kar, that is the third time!  Save some for the guests, will you?” 

“I'm hungry now, and I will need fortitude to deal with them later.  This is insurance.” He grinned and took a comically large bite of his jelly-filled snack.  

Mollari shook his head and set his papers and pen aside.  “Come in, you aren't interrupting.”

Na'Toth scoffed.  

“You should discuss your issue with him, Miss Na'Toth," Mollari said.   "I suspect your objections lie more with him anyway.” 

“What?” G'Kar looked up from his food, and tried to talk with his mouth mostly full.  “Wha' 'ave I done mow?”

Na'Toth wrinkled her nose.  “No wonder Mollari's people continue to hate us.  With you as the only example, even I'd second guess us.”

G'Kar swallowed.   “I'll have you know the highest authority on this world thinks I'm delightful.”

“And yet even I want you to chew your food,” Mollari said.

====

This is pre-Portraits, and is the story of the establishment of all the things Na'Toth finds there. It's mostly called "Sleep" for now but could gain a proper title as it forms. There's a Lot of this one.

“There is...” Mollari inhales deeply and then drops onto the bed with a frustrated sigh, legs dangling over the side, pillow still in one hand.  “There is something happening.  There is something wrong.  I used to understand this place, but now I – No.  No,  I used to believe I understood.  But it is very possible I never did.”

“Admitting that is a good start.”

Mollari looks out the large window and into the night sky.  He's just barely lit by whatever satellite orbits this planet, and the artificial light from the display in the ornamental gardens outside the palace.  “I think it may be too late to be starting anything.”

“It is never too late,” G'Kar says gently.  It is funny - considering their violent history with each other - how much 'gentle' is required with Mollari lately. “Perhaps it is too late to save this thing or know that one, but starting now means there is something coming that you may yet know, save, or understand.”

Perhaps contemplating their past violence in his own way, Mollari holds his hands in front of him and regards them as though they are new, as though they are alien.  He laughs softly, bitterly, and then lets his hands drop to his sides.  “You found all this wisdom of yours in prison, did you?”

“I found it inside myself, but I happened to be in prison at the time.”

>>>>>>>>>>

From the same 'Sleep' build up to the situation as it presents itself in Portraits:

“I will be dead before I can trust everyone underneath me to make a sound decision.  Sometimes I don’t think I can trust myself to make them.”

“Then that’s why I’m here.”  

When a few seconds of silence pass, Mollari looks at him.  “Was that it?”

“Was what it?”

“I said something about my own decision making and you didn’t bring up anything at all?” Mollari laughs.  “I thought of at least three ways you could have punished me for that sentence the moment I finished it.”

“I’m feeling charitable. You refused a flower budget today, you’ve earned it.”

Mollari shakes his head and laughs softly.  The sound barely escapes all the layers of fabric he’s been draped in.  He slows his walk as he gazes up at the portraits above them.  “I think you are the only reason I am still sane, G’Kar.”

The sentiment is sweet, even for something not said in the safety of the dark.  As much as G’Kar could make it personal and steer things vulnerable or frightening, he aims instead for the kind of comfort required in daylight.  “I’m flattered, but considering I’m living here of my own free will, we may have reason for concern regarding you using me as a base for mental health.  What if we are both mad and just enabling each other?”

“Mmm.” Mollari pauses at the end of the row of portraits, regarding the last one and the empty space next to it before looking back to G’Kar.  “Well, I can think of worse people to go mad with.”  

[vukovich]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tag, @orange-peony!

--

This is from a hot nasty WIP that serves as evidence that @mintawasalreadytaken, @oknowkiss, and I should never be left alone together.

--

Malfoy harrumphed.  “Why in God’s name would I want to do that again?  I’m going to drink myself into oblivion tonight just to forget it.”  He wiped his face with the back of a dishwater-raw hand.  

“Oh, fuck you, Malfoy.”  Harry tucked his dick back in his trousers and zipped up.  “You came in your fucking pants, you sick little shit.”

--

@wheezykat and @moonstruckwytch I showed you mine.

[heleneplays]

going back to my roots for a hot moment

[sharkface-daydreams]

Rules: Write the latest line from your wip and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don’t reblog.

tagged by @bearbait-adventures :)

Now i can't do LATEST bc it's massive spoilers but i will give this

Sam smiles fondly at him, and reaches out a hand. “In a moment.”

and i don't know that many people to tag but i know @clocks-are-round @donut-entendre @leonardalphachurch and @rubykgrant write stuff (@prvtbugsbuggins if u are not too busy and want to play too :D)

[wolfpants]

Thank you for tagging me lovely @houndsinhades! It's been a while since I shared a snippet. It's been a while since I worked on anything non fest related! Here's a little bit from my current WIP.

Harry rolled his jaw and laced his fingers together. He shifted in his chair and finally looked down at the folders. The one closest to him was the file he was most familiar with—labelled, simply, GLASTONBURY LOVE CULT. He knew it because he’d seen it passed around the office more times than he could count in the past month. It was like a fucked up game of pass the parcel: no one wanted it. No one wanted to deal with a mental Muggle commune out in the sticks, playing with sex and dark magic. Not when there was Quidditch World Cup security up for grabs in Dubai. Not when there was a bootleg Veritaserum ring to chase in the French Riviera, all expenses paid.

Harry picked up the folder and set it aside with a sigh. The next one was a pack of new notes from Penny, the department’s researcher. Fine. Helpful. Whatever.

The one under that was a folder labelled with a name that made the hairs on Harry’s arms stand on end.

Draco Malfoy.

“Of course he’s involved,” he said darkly.

“He’s not involved, you idiot,” Robards said tiredly, verging on angrily. “He’s your partner.”

-

Tagging @citrusses @toomuchplor @skeptiquewrites @littlewinnow @getawayfox @tackytigerfic @magpiefngrl @maesterchill @hoko-onchi-writes snips or sketches!! ❤️😌

[magnusbae]

The first time they share a bed, actually share, not collapsed after a feverish fucking or exhausted into nothingness after an endless battle, but a real get ready for sleep, bedtime routine and all—Anakin cannot stop moving.

Restless and uncomfortable, he is hyper aware of every dent in the mattress, every ruffle of the sheets. His mind is not numbed by an orgasm or a complete fatigue, instead it's left to boil with awareness, with unrest.

"Anakin." Obi-Wan sounds only a little annoyed. The man is exhausted, Anakin doesn't need their bond to hear that. He is tired and in need for sleep. "What is the matter?" he still finds it within himself to ask, sounding genuine enough, concerned enough.

"Noth—" Anakin begins, and thinks better of it when Obi-Wan's silhouette tenses up, a barely there shift in the shoulders. Tonight is not the night in which he wishes to test his Master's patience, not when they both are so clearly not up for bickering.

Anakin sighs, admitting, with no small amount of embarrassment in his hushed voice "—I usually sleep on the right side…" It's close enough to the truth, he thinks, cheeks warming.

A moment of silence is broken by a muffled and genuinely amused snort. His Master doesn't even pretend it was a cough. He just laughs.

"Oh Anakin." Obi-Wan sighs once his shoulders stop shaking with his silent mirth, sounding painfully affectionate.

"Master! You—" Anakin's protests are cut short by a pair of strong hands, maneuvering him easily to the right side of the bed. Anakin can practically feel the huff of laughter against his neck when he is drawn closer, back pressing snugly against Obi-Wan's chest.

"Better?" his Master purrs against his ear.

Yes. Yes, better.

"Thank you, Master."

The smile in his voice is so obvious, laid bare. He sounds like a besotted fool. With how easily a mere hug could easen all of his uncertainties, lighten all of his concerns— perhaps he is.

"Good." his Master takes it for the answer that it is, pressing his nose against Anakin's nape and exhaling a gentle: "Good night, Dear One".

The wrong side of the bed was the least of Anakin's worries and even that is forgotten in the sleep that soon follows. So easily. He smiles.

[h-doodles]

a doodle can be something that is so crack sometimes

[faiell]

Wip Snip

oh god so when i got tagged for this i still had on my todo list to post a wip snip from when i got tagged months ago (crying) i am so bad at these

BUT!! HEY!! I AM NOW ARTBLOCKED! and i am trying to destroy it by drawing draco which means i have so many wips to share now, woohoo!

thank you @littlewinnow @kamaela @edieblakewrites @kk1smet (i think u were one of the ppl who tagged me last time idr who else it was LMAO) and @soliblomst for tagging me!!!

and now i will blow my draco load

the first 5 are attemps at draco smoking. the last 1 are two sketches that didn't make it into my angst sticker sheet (which i still haven't posted here. god i am so ass at socmed).

i feel like everyone i know has already done it but just in case, i tag @eleadore @itsphantasmagoria and... @ghostofnoir!!!

[frostbitebakery]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). 

I got tagged by @ominouspuff for the noble cause of double-tag-teaming @chiliger 💜 I shall answer the call!

This one again bc it’s now the designated bday 2024 piece and holy fuck I need to finish it. Traditions are at stake! Also Obi-Wan is Unreasonable for this work bc of course. Last time, Cody drove me crazy so now it’s the other one.

Last line were the little freckles I lovingly dotted on his visage.

Thumbscrews tagging! @chiliger 💜

Other than that: open tags, people! PLEASE! Jump in! This ship can fit so many people!

[citrusses]

wip snip

thank you for the tag @wolfpants and @maesterchill! I'm already insane for the cult fic and everyone is in for a treat with maesterchill's goosefest fic. I've been working on fest stuff mostly, but I can share some of a fic that's been languishing in the background for awhile. It's an angsty morally murky disaster that absolutely no one asked for, featuring unredeemed Draco de-aged to 16 years old.

“Potter?”  

“Oh!” Potter startled at the sound of his own name. “Er, sorry Draco. I didn’t realise you’d be here.” 

“In my own house common room?” Draco asked archly. 

Potter looked at him, visibly despairing. “In the castle. Everyone’s gone home.” 

“To what home did you expect me to return?” 

Potter looked mildly sick. Draco thrilled at it. He’d been feeling rather sorry for himself all morning, thinking about the holidays he’d never have again, the parents he’d never see, the fact that his whole life had apparently already happened to someone else. 

Draco was so fucking miserable. Making Potter miserable too was the only thing he could think of that was guaranteed to make him feel better. 

“So,” he said slowly, stretching out on the sofa, taking up as much space he could, extending his arms long above his head. Potter watched him, unblinking.  “It’s been twenty years. You still haven’t gotten yourself a family of your own? Still stuck in this awful castle at Christmas?” 

@oknowkiss @greattemptation @eleadore @sweet-s0rr0w @skeptiquewrites @jtimu @garagepaperback @magpiefngrl dost thou have any wip snips to share?

[smehur]

Wip Snip

many thanks to @tackytigerfic for the inclusive note they made on their wip snip, which i took as a prompt to post my own!

tagging @thusspoketrish, @soliblomst, @s0lifuge, @poljupci, @wizgays 🥰

Draco shook his head. What a disgrace, Father’s voice hissed in his ear. As if it weren’t bad enough that you’re pining for a boy. Did it have to be this one?

Draco wholeheartedly agreed. It was bad. It was so bad, he couldn’t imagine it being any worse. The unwanted, unwelcome attraction threatened to rip him asunder. Wild urges coursed through his body all day, every day, morphing from lust to rage to longing to horror like a boggart in a crowd.

It had started on the train, where he seized an unprecedented opportunity to stare at Potter, unobserved and uninterrupted, for fully three minutes as they left the King’s Cross station. Which was more than long enough to count the inches Potter had gained over the summer, and get hypnotized by the bobbing of the sharp new bulge in Potter’s throat while he drained an entire water bottle in one go, and to twitch uncomfortably at the action of Potter’s newly muscled arms, nude in his sleeveless Muggle shirt, while he heaved the cages on top of the overhead shelves. Long enough to map the new angles of his face, strange in its familiarity, mark a new nook between the ear and the jaw, the beginnings of a new dip in the chin, the sharpened cut of the eyebrows. Long enough to feel a stab of desperate envy when someone else made Potter laugh. Long enough for Potter to finally look his way and wound him with that reckless green gaze. And if Draco imagined that something had fractured in Potter’s features too, if only for that single moment, so be it. A fantasy to soothe the ache.

-- from a darkish Hogwarts 4th year WIP where Draco obsesses over Harry and eventually gets a bit more friction than he bargained for

[heleneplays]

sobbing my gay heart out over the ending to a fic i will never post:

No, soft won't ever be the right word to describe María.

But in her embrace, Helene is safe. With María, Helene finds home.