#but here's my new wip for wip (not) wednesday

[monbons]

Stitch Sunday

Big week friends! I made some serious progress on my CORB art this weekend. Since I can't post anything finished, here is another teaser of those same legs from last week... but this week they are even sexier (if that is possible).

So in love with how this doll turned out. It is part of a set, but I can't start the second doll until a visit to the fabric store. I need fabric with the tiniest paisley print possible. Or sequins. Also tiny. We'll see if I'm successful...

In other news, I started posting The Boy Next Door. I'm glad it is out in the world, even though it is nerve-wracking in a way no other fic has been (even the first one!). This is the first idea that is all mine from beginning to end---not a canon divergence or an AU of an existing work---so it feels very high-stakes. Just my brain playing with dolls, and y'all might not like what the dolls are doing, you know? Anyway, I am having all the feelings.

Since chapter 1 and chapter 2 were originally one chapter, there won't be a teaser of anything new today because I've already teased enough from Chapter 2 in the past. Instead, let me convince you to start reading it with another snip from Chapter 1 below the cut.

I wave and smile as broadly as I can. “I just moved in!” My neighbour impersonates a Greek sculpture and doesn’t stir at all, their pale skin only adding to the illusion. I think they can hear me. I’m being extremely loud. A single pane of glass is not a real sound barrier. I motion for them to open their window. For a moment, I think they will— they lean forward, their book all but forgotten as they stretch toward the latch. I try to take this opportunity to gather more clues, although my new observations are equally contradictory. They are not just slim but flat-chested with no hips in sight. But, they move the way they play violin, like liquid—all grace and finesse. Most boys I know are bumbling fools like me. I keep waving like an idiot as I hang out of my window. They reach out a hand and … shut the drapes. Again.

I'll try to find a new snip for WIP Wednesday. In the meantime, hellos and high-fives from the doll factory!

@thewholelemon, @bookish-bogwitch, @roomwithanopenfire, @cutestkilla, @raenestee

@iamamythologicalcreature, @emeryhall, @mooncello, @hushed-chorus, @rimeswithpurple

@artsyunderstudy, @aristocratic-otter, @arthurkko, @best--dress, @brilla-brilla-estrellita

@run-for-chamo-miles, @supercutedinosaurs, @whatevertheweather, @talentpiper11, @larkral

@shrekgogurt, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold, @blackberrysummerblog, @messofthejess

@drowninginships, @valeffelees, @orange-peony, @facewithoutheart, @alexalexinii

@ic3-que3n, @skeedelvee, @fiend-for-culture, @beastmonstertitan, @melodysmash

@martsonmars, @katatsumuli, @comesitintheclover, @stitchyqueer, @erzbethluna

@ileadacharmedlife, @theimpossibledemon, @letraspal, @rbkzz

[jtl-fics]

Uhhhhh can I get some New Kings for this Wednesday before my birthday 🎂

WIP Wednesday 9/11/24 (Closed) | New Kings AU

“Besides you wanted Kevin Day’s beloved protege didn’t you?” Neil asks and brings his hand back to smack Seth right on the back, “Well, that’s Seth right here.”

“What?” Came from both Kevin and Seth at the same time.

“Well, it’s true isn’t it?” Neil asks as Andrew leans back watching with an amused softness on his face with the rest of the Foxes. “You’ve been training him even more than you’ve been training me? Secret training sessions with just the two of you at night.”

[simplegenius042]

WIP Wednesday, Enemies To Lovers Meme & OC Dialogue Meme

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat and @imogenkol

Tagging @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @cassietrn @adelaidedrubman @aceghosts @josephseedismyfather @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @raresvtm @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @minilev @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @noodlecupcakes @aceghosts @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @softtidesworld @florbelles and @yokobai + anyone who wants to join.

[Edit: Sorry for the second tagging, I had to fix a mistake on my post and my laptop for some reason negates the tagging I made so… yeah.]

WIP for Life, Despair & Monsters, the Enemies to Lovers Meme for The Silver Chronicles, specifically for Silva and Faith, and the Dialogue Meme for Archangel Metatron and Xiang Ba'al for Wings And Horns WIP.

A snippet of my DDLC WIP You Make My Heart Go Doki Doki Literature Club! Monika has the opportunity to taste her first meal in the real world... a bowl of rice porridge. This WIP is still under heavy construction so things may change in the near future:

Once she had found a relatively empty area, devoid of prying students (and concerned clubmates), Monika sat down on the corner of a stone slab.

Taking one last look around for any lingering peers, Monika's relief was interrupted by the grumble of her empty stomach, yearning for the hot consumable in her hands.

She seated herself down on the cool stone, the shade of the cherry acting as additional protection from the eyes of others. Her skirt acted as a blanket against the slab's roughness.

Monika, though having no previous set opinion on buildings like her high school (the falsity of that reality notwithstanding), however, here she couldn't stop herself from really admiring the architecture. If this were a digital world, as she feared it could still be, she'd still be impressed by the level of detail that its developer's implemented.

But if this really was the reality she yearned for... she was absolutely breathless.

Her stomach rumbled in demand of sustenance once more.

And hungry, she reminded herself, placing the heated bowl of boiled grains on her lap. Faced once more with one of the mandatory functions of having a real body, the anticipation set in.

Hunger was never a concern she had prior in the game unless it was demanded for a scene, but with her new life, she was going to have to make this a daily occurrence.

She looked down at the simple rice porridge, or rather, okayu. At first, she hesitated stabbing her spoon into the bowl. After all, the mix of hot soggy rice drenched in boiled water hadn't looked very appealing. However, it was amongst the few meals she found out could soothe an ailing stomach (after the incident that occurred prior to the week), and the alternative dishes weren't optional today.

In addition, it wasn't something that had existed in the game.

I will give credit though, Monika thought as she dipped the spoon's head into the melted grains, It does smell way too good for something that looks so unappealing.

She brought a small spoonful up to her lips, blowing gently on the heated rice, she closed her eyes before swiftly shoving it in her mouth.

Her eyes involuntarily opened, green irises widening at the new sense. Spoon still in her mouth, her tongue slathered itself in the porridge. The watery texture of the rice grains was dull, and yet, softly comforting in its heat. The mix of boiled rice and water tasted surprisingly nice, and when swallowing it, she hummed in satisfaction as .

It was nothing she had ever felt before; she could never have any sense of taste in the few moments she got to eat in the game. All it was in that prison was nothing. Less than nothing. But here...

Her eyes welled with tears as she stabbed another spoonful into the porridge. She didn't know if this was reality or a less limited version of her former one, but she was grateful for this all the same. In quick succession, she had nearly devoured half the porridge, and savored in a dish by looks alone shouldn't be this good.

She wouldn't be satisfied until the entire porridge was empty in the bowl.

[NOTE: I will most likely rewrite this scene in the future, as I want Monika's reaction to be a lot more impactful, considering in the game she probably could never truly "taste" the food she "ate" (if she was given the chance to eat anything that is)]

Anyway, have an enemies-to-lovers meme for the slowest-burn couple I've ever had the pleasure to make; "Boa Lurking In The Bliss", or rather my FC5 Deputy OC Silva Omar x Faith Seed ship. Also, for some reason, Silva has a questionable taste in women; most of whom (Irene and Faith) are powerful, feared and dangerous & manipulative, with the only normal commonality between them that Silva finds attractive and mesmerizing being their green eyes. Anyway, meme and template below:

To clarify, these two change a lot throughout their... uh, for a lack of better words, complicated romance. Especially when it comes to Faith. Also for the "would kill", Faith would have killed Silva if Joseph gave the a-okay during the "I hate this woman for destroying my weed crops" phase, however, this ultimately changes later down the line when she realizes she has feelings. Also it's not that Silva doesn't hold a little contempt towards Faith's actions in the "Hate Meter", but she's honestly got worse people to hate (a prominent figure being her father, Adam Omar). Things get better... eventually.

I've got two Dialogue memes for two major characters in my Wings And Horns WIP; that being Archangel Metatron and Xiang Ba'al. Metatron's is first:

Translation for the small text:

Have them introduce themself:

"Greetings to you, saintly soul. Have no fear. I am the Archangel Metatron, and from the Heavens, I seek your assistance."

Describe their voice, generally: (e.x. accent/type/inflection)

There's a certain gentle divinity in it, with an atmosphere of wisdom retained, like an experienced worker or an older man. Clearly masculine but not too deep.

In their own words, what are they proud of/what is their most passionate interest?

"I am impassioned by my service to the Allfather of the Heavens. Any work I do under his name I find to be an honor. One of my proudest achievements would be leading an exodus of a flock of believers out of harms way."

They've been caught doing... something! Can they talk their way out of it?

"If I can, on my word, blessedly sworn by the Allfather, his kingdoms and his children… I have a reason and probable jurisdiction too which I can and will explain."

Free space/Dramatic Monologue!

"Cadet… I wish you the best. And should your journey be… opposed by non-believers… you have my endorsement to proceed to the next life. If that means much anyway…"

[Image Reference Credits: Art of Archangel Metatron that I found posted on Quora]

And here's Xiang Ba'al's:

Translation for the small text:

Have them introduce themself:

"Well, well, well… Hello there good pedestrian. You look a little down. Perhaps horrified even? All because of that dreadful soul mark isn't it? No need to worry, I'm not here to judge. I'm here to give an escape from this cursed "destiny". Who am I? Silly me, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Xiang Ba'al… and I offer you freedom."

Describe their voice, generally: (e.x. accent/type/inflection)

Xiang's voice is deep and rough, but in spite of this, he holds a certain mix of showmanship and a upperclassman (which he is not). Whether this is an act of playfulness or a mockery towards the Heavens, he often uses it when freeing humans of their red string.

In their own words, what are they proud of/what is their most passionate interest?

"I'd have to say removing those restrictive marks from those humans above had been quite liberating. Not to mention, it eventually worked in our favour… the lord dickheads in charge realised the system was collapsing and axed it before it could get worse."

Free space/Dramatic Monologue!

"Jezebel was long abandoned by her family when they allowed that perversion of a marriage to go ahead. To them, she was just property to benefit off. To me, she is my reason to continue this crusade against those pricks up above. She is why I got off my ass in Hell. She is why I learned to cook. She is why I learned to read, to write, to travel and work and do all the things a demon of Sloth would think ridiculous and a waste. They told me, "She will be the undoing of your nature." And maybe they're right. I no longer sleep the millenia away. I no longer wish for a final ending. I no longer let the rot of regret and shame chain me. But I'm not unhappy with that. Why? Because she is my reason to live. Her smile. Her cheer. Her obsession with scissors. And if bringing down the system that damned her in the first place makes her sleeps ever more peaceful, then Archangel, you can fucking bet I'm not going to stop until your superiors FINALLY GET OFF THEIR ASSES!"

"Cadet… I wish you the best. And should your journey be… opposed by non-believers… you have my endorsement to proceed to the next life. If that means much anyway…"

[Image References: Kagetane Hiruko from Black Bullet and a picture of a sloth].

And here are the empty templates below:

[yeyinde]

stalker!Ghost who gets tired of these little games you keep playing with him (blocking his number, changing your locks), and decides to take matters into his own hands. after all, it says something that you went out of your way to get a restraining order against him—accompanied by a scathing, bratty little message about leaving you alone. boundaries. him being a creep. as if everything he does to protect you was an inconvenience. was for nothing. maybe his old man was right. maybe some brats need a good, hard lesson in respect.

one he feels obligated to give.  

so. he comes for you. presses the muzzle of his gun against your trembling lip, and tells you to stick that pretty tongue out for him, birdy. 

(since you want to be so lippy, he'll give you something to mouth off on.)

[lulu2992]

Ask meme!

@simplegenius042 tagged me for WIP Wednesday! Thanks :)

I’m not working on any fandom-related art right now and rarely write fanfiction, but I do have nine (or fifteen, depending on how you count them) finished drawings I have yet to post, so here are little “teasers” for them:

Eight of these were drawn between March and July this year, and the ninth one is from October last year (but I want to post it on a specific date).

Seven are related to Far Cry 5. Among these, two are from “that fic I’ll never write” and four belong to the “I don’t know, I just felt like drawing this” category.

The last two are related to other works of fiction, and I hope I’ll find the “right” time to post them someday :’)

[hailsatanacab]

Wip Wednesday babeeyy

eyy I've finally remembered that wip wednesday exists!! here's some proof that i'm working on something, and that something is the follower milestone gift i said i was going to do and i promise i'm doing it! i'm doing it it's happening i promise! so here's a little taster!!!! and here's Part One if you want a refresher!

And then the kid just vanishes.

In the blink of an eye, in the time it takes for him to look down, screw his face up because this is all confusing as fuck, and look back up, he’s just gone. There’s nowhere to hide, there’s nowhere to go, Jason can see everywhere around him—but he can’t see Danny.

“Well… shit."

“What, what happened?” Dickybird hisses in his ear, the unsaid, exasperated “now” very clear in his voice. 

As much as he loathes to admit it, Jason is feeling very much the same way right now. What was meant to be a simple case of “investigate the potential child abuse and put an end to it” has instead become something… less simple. When is it ever simple in his life?

Still. If working with supers, metas, vigilantes, whatever, has taught Jason anything, it’s that just because you can’t see someone doesn’t mean they’re not there.

“Hey, kid… Danny. Listen, I’m not here to hurt you and if you’re still here, if you can still hear me, then, I don’t know, do you want to get a bite to eat or something? I just want to talk. I just want to figure out what’s happening.”

Jason doesn’t hold his breath. 

Okay, no, that’s a lie. Jason holds his breath, but he swears he’s holding it so he can more accurately hear if Danny is still around. That’s all it is, he’s not attached to this kid already. He’s not.

When no answer comes—not even a whisper of a breath or the scuff of a sneaker on the pavement—he suppresses a frustrated growl and opts instead to breathe deeply and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“So…” Tim begins, drawing out the word.

The urge to growl—hell, the urge to pull out his comms and smash them on the floor—grows.

“The kid’s a meta, then. Potential powers including but not limited to: invisibility or teleportation. You think he’s still there?” There’s no reason for the kid to still be around, not at all. If it was Jason, he’d have scattered as soon as he realised the stranger impersonating his dad wasn’t the guy he thought was impersonating his dad, and honestly, wasn’t that extra fucked up? That someone impersonates people in this town often enough that it’s not a surprise? The way Danny spoke about him… What was his name?

Amorpho. Amorphous. Without shape. 

A shapeshifter?

Whatever. It’s a mystery for another time, because there’s still a more pressing mystery in front of him.

Or,. rather, not in front of him.

Yes, there’s no reason for Danny to still be here, but…

Jason sighs. 

“I’m going to Bat—Nasty Burger. Really? Is that the best burger joint here? Nasty Burger? Whatever, I’m going to get some fucking fries.”

Jason feels fucking stupid talking the air like this. He must look fucking stupid, too, but the thing is… There’s a prickling on the back of his neck, a rolling taste of green on his tongue when he glances through his peripheral, the vague weight of an unseen eyes on him. 

Call it wishful thinking, call it a hunch, call it something else, but Danny’s still here.

“There’ll be a burger waiting for you, too, if you want it. My treat.” Jason turns in a full circle, examining everything in his surroundings. Nothing seems out of place, nothing screams wrong to him. “I just want to talk.”

He waits for a full minute with no success, which makes Jason feel even more stupid, before clicking his tongue and making his way to the, hopefully ironically named, Nasty Burger.

[cupowhale]

Weird Renaissance Fair Hat!! W.I.P!!

I’m going out of my comfort zones in crocheting- I’m making a hat that is completely out of yarn and a metal hoop!

I have no pattern or end idea till I find it complete!

Follow me to see more crazy ideas- in the future l!

Also not a face reveal

[andiwriteordie]

that one ask neil gaiman recently answered has me thinking way too much about the fall so i suppose here's a good omens wip wednesday snippet

[sexynetra]

WIP WEDNESDAY

I just got home last night and what little new stuff I wrote has not been sent over to me yet so please enjoy this little WIP Wednesday: texting edition (unformatted)

~~~~~~

Tia: SOS I need your help :(((

Arantxa: ???? R u ok?????

Tia: No I think I’m dying :/

Arantxa: If this is about Dada im killing u when I see u tonite

Tia: …

Arantxa: Omg. Trouble in paradise? Honeymoon phase over?

Tia: Shut up why did I even text you

Arantxa: Because u love me :)

Tia: Yeah yeah, whatever. I’m stealing you away at Hannahs tonight. Need advice

Arantxa: My advice is to have make up sex for whatever ur fight was about ;)

Tia: Shut UP

[gwaedhannen]

WIP Wednesday!

No-pressure tagging: @polutrope @sallysavestheday @outofangband @starspray @that-angry-noldo! What are y'all up to?

I've realized I don't actually have much romantic stuff in my WIPs. I should maybe work on that. Here's one of the earliest bits I wrote for the fandom, from the only way The Dusk, the Dawn, the Earth could ever end.

Thuringwethil had always hated that Light, hated its cruel shine from the crown of her former master, hated it in the gut of her tormented cousin. But never had she hated it more than upon the breast of her wife, draining the color from her flesh and hair into its pale resplendence until all that is left is a dull shadow of what had been.

Her husband too, is depleted of his vigor, and the old age of his ancestor’s renown has come for him far sooner. Scant months ago he assembled an army to avenge Thingol and cast the treasures of Doriath (all but one) into the river, and now he can scarcely walk from bed to privy with her aid. Was this what Tinúviel bargained for, in the Hall of Judgement? An all-too-brief return to life, only for it to wither away in ignominy and dotage?

Surely it would have been better to take the offered Gift then and there. For then Thuringwethil would have never met them again. Would have never loved them. Would never lose them.

[carlos-tk]

.

[josephslittledeputy]

WIP Whenever!

Been tagged in a few WIP Wednesdays that I missed, so thank you @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @inafieldofdaisies @jillvalentinesday @marivenah @simplegenius042 @g0dspeeed for keeping me in the loop!

Tagging @clicheantagonist @henbased @nonfunctioning-queer @purplehairsecretlair @adelaidedrubman and anyone else who feels like it! (Or don’t, totally up to you)

First up is part one of Willa’s dark au, They Watch From The Pews

Another day gone by, another hostage saved, another person she’s helped that weren’t her people.

She'd been stuck in Fall’s End for nearly a week now, recovering from her concussion, helping out when needed, rescuing anyone who needed rescuing. Most everyone she’d rescued had made their way to Fall’s End, some even decided to form a group: The Resistance. Or at least that’s what they started calling themselves. It wasn’t very creative, but it didn’t need to be when it was getting the job done, which was to push back against the cult. So far, it’d been working relatively well and every day their numbers grew in strength. What she couldn’t stomach, though, was the fact that everyone looked to her like a de facto leader.

She was no leader.

What normally would elate someone else only made her infuriated. What right did they have to delegate such a role to her? Every day it was something new: Deputy, take out this group of peggies and rescue these hostages! Deputy, the cult stole all our gas, bring us some tanker trucks! Deputy, someone from the cult defected, you need to save them! Deputy, pick up a big rig you’ve never driven in your life because it was my dads! Never once did anyone ever ask about her needs. For days she'd been waiting for news, from anyone, and yet all they had to tell her was more shit that needed to be done! For all she knew, her people were dead already and here she was, playing a glorified errand runner for people who couldn't give two shits about her! Not unless she could do something for them first. The rage that had nestled in her chest before—a hot ember kept ignited by every slight she’d suffered—grew, and grew, until it was nearly consuming her.

Then, during one of the long, long days she’d been sitting in Fall’s End, she’d snapped.

“I don’t give a damn, Jerome! I’m goin' whether you 'er any a'yer little Resistance like it 'er not. And tell Mary May not to close my goddamn tab!”

They’d recently gotten word from the cult defector that Hudson was being kept in John’s bunker. Their only problem was that he kept the only key to the place tied around his neck and rarely ever left. When he did leave, it was with a whole entourage of peggies, keeping him more secure than the president themselves. It wasn’t that she couldn’t take them all down—especially with the help of the Resistance—but they had machine guns and grenade launchers, all things she very much lacked. So, her only course of action was to draw his ire, get herself kidnapped, and figure things out from there. If she played her cards right, she could get into the bunker and get Hudson out. Jerome and Mary May, however? Well, they weren't keen on the idea. What would happen if they lost their biggest asset against the cult? It led to an argument that carried over into the next morning, until finally, she threw her arms up and told them where the sun don't shine.

Fast Forward to when Willa rescues Hudson

“I know your sin. It drives you. Every thought, every action.” He lets out a breath. “Your sin is Wrath.” On the final word, he places his hand to his chest with a small laugh. “So I’ll indulge you: Become Wrath. Let it fill your body and consume your soul. Because in the end, you’ll still be empty. And I’ll be waiting right here.” John gives her a pitying look before throwing a glance behind him, at Hudson. “We both will.”

“No, John. I’m taking Hudson and we’re leaving or so help me I will cave your goddamn fuckin’ head in!” Swinging at him—something he evidently hadn’t expected—she smashes the pipe against his shoulder, ignoring his cry of pain. Dropping the pipe, she lunges for him, sending them both toppling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Her fist launches forward, sending his head snapping to the side in a daze when it connects. “That’s for drowning me, you bastard.” Standing to her feet, she quickly rushes over to Hudson, who was struggling and yelling. “I gotcha.” Gently peeling the tap off, she quickly begins working on her ropes, ignoring the groaning John on the floor, who was recovering from her assault quicker than she'd expected.

“You came… I-I thought…” Hudson sobs, taking in deep breaths that weren’t restricted by the tape over her mouth.

“Of course I did.” She moves to the front of her and crouches down, working on getting the restraints off her feet next. “I know it took me a while, I had to… Well, I was preoccupied.” She looks up at Hudson, gently wiping away the fresh tears that’d fallen. “But I never stopped looking. Now let’s get the hell outta here, huh?”

“You’ll never get out of here, Deputy.” John coughs, standing and shaking his head with a bruise beginning to form around his eye.

“Like hell we will.” She growls, grabbing Hudson’s hand and pulling her toward the door. Yanking on the handle, she slips out the small crack of the door and closes it behind her, sealing John in the room by himself.

Next is my beloved Valerie Morgan, from my Clash of Worlds AU

The wind rushes through her hair, the motorcycles engine purrs beneath her, and the neon lights turn into blurs overhead.

God, she hates to admit how much she missed Night City, but it truly feels like coming home, even if it’s not actually her city. It won’t be long until it is. Until all the little ants are trembling beneath her feet, eager to get out of her way or to throw their lot in with her in hopes of being spared. It’s a thought that tugs a wicked smile onto her face, pulling at the freshly healed scars marring the left side of her face, a courteous reminder from a name she no longer cares to remember.

She wouldn’t want to ruin such a good mood, after all.

She’s buzzing with an energy that could transcend time, if she let it. She feels unstoppable, like there’s nothing that can stand in her way. Nothing, except the asshole in front of her that causes her to roll to a stop. Her teeth grind together with a ferocity that nearly shatters the pearly whites inside her mouth, but she settles for a simple honk of the horn instead. And by simple, she naturally means laying on the horn until the person in front of her has the audacity to look behind them.

“Fuck you! Go around!”

Her eye twitches and her nostrils flare. “Fuck… me?”

“Yeah, you heard me!”

She looks around to check her surroundings before pointing at herself, repeating, “Me?”

“Yes! YOU!”

She puts the kickstand on the bike down and turns off the purring engine, giving the man one last chance “Are you sure you mean me?” She questions with a tilt of her head.

“Who the fuck else could I mean? You’re the only fuck nut honkin’ their horn for a minute straight! Can’t you see I’m talkin’ here?” He jabs a thumb to his right, where another person stands by the passenger door.

She gets off the bike and walks up to him with a skip in her step, stopping right next to his door. Flashing a slightly manic smile, she bends at the waist and leans her arms against the open window. “What I want to know is who stops in the middle of the road?”

“You some type of gonk or somethin’? I said I'm talkin'!”

She stops, stares for a few uncomfortable seconds, then starts to laugh. The driver begins to laugh as well, and pretty soon, everyone’s laughing together, like they’re all in on the same joke. What joke that is, they’re still not sure, but the whole situation was beginning to seem downright silly.

It really was just utterly absurd! How could she not have noticed this man was talking to someone? How dare she have the gall to bring attention to that fact? How dare she think that she was above him? That she didn’t know she could just go around him this whole time! It was all just so. Damn. Laughable. She reaches in the window, grabs ahold of his shirt, and yanks him out. With a strength nobody could know she possessed, she tosses him over his car and onto the sidewalk, barely missing the idiot standing by the passenger door.

“Y-you’re fuckin’ whack lady!” They shout before taking off at a full sprint, glancing back to see if she was coming after them.

Before they can look back a second time, she’s right in front of them. “I’m whack? You’re the one who’s running!” Lashing out, she aims for their knees, sending them falling to the ground like a rag doll. “But not for long!” She taunts in a singsong voice, leaving them to tend to their shattered knees. “Now where was I? Oh right!” With a cheery smile, she turns and heads back toward the driver stumbling to his feet, ignoring the pained cries and pleas for help behind her.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’d be more worried about how you’re eating tonight.” The wicked gleam in her eye and smile that matches is the last thing the man sees.

[peachcitt]

it’s about to be june everybody :)

[rhaenys-queenofkhyrulzz]

wip wednesday cuz i feel guilty for not posting in a while

Chapter 2 of the kisaeng!Seon-ho au is still in the works but here's a snippet to keep y'all fed in the meanwhile

I've been on vacation for the past week and am now rushing to get some things done so pls bear with me for a while again 🙏

[lovetheboysfic]

WIP Wednesday?

I guess this is a thing, right?

This is a bit from what I’m calling my Other Baby Diaz S2/S3 AU, playing fast and loose with the timeline and Eddie’s house. I’ve got about 15k done so far, which is more than I’ve written in a long, long time...

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Buck had been with Johnny for a few milestones: moving his head more, gaining control of his fingers. Buck felt absolutely no shame at letting the tears fall the first time John’s tiny fingers gripped one of his — it was like being touched by a feather and it was so damned cute.

He never told Eddie about those milestones; it felt like stealing to be there when Eddie couldn’t. Most of the time the nurses would tell him during the daily updates, and Eddie never seemed to resent Buck for being witness, would ask Buck what happened in his own words, would eagerly await his own first experience with his son’s development.

The dark circles under Eddie’s eyes from restless sleep and waking to nightmares — his, Chris’s, and occasionally Buck’s — and a serious caffeine dependency contributed to how fucking exhausted he looked all the time now. Buck didn’t think he had seen Eddie really smile (his genuine smile, not his serve-the-public polite smile) except a handful of times since the day Shannon died. It wasn’t unexpected during such a stressful time, but it did make the true smiles he bestowed on Chris and John all the more precious to witness. 

And the times when Buck was able to make Eddie smile with one of his stupid jokes or a weird fact, or even making Eddie laugh? That was like when the painkillers hit after a bad PT session: relief and hope swirled together.

Seeing Eddie lying back in a terrible hospital recliner with a not-as-tiny John on his bare chest, and a contented half-smile on his face, with Chris tucked in next to him and watching his brother with wide eyes, Buck knew he would do absolutely anything for the Diaz boys — all three of them.

[butcharondir]

ive written the sexy breakup angst fic and the sexy post-breakup angst fic a few times before but I've never before written the sexy post-breakup angst fic for a fucked up 10-person polycule, so im currently living my best life