#first actual writing for this wip

[vaguely-concerned]

garashir snippet, established relationship, context??? we don't do context here baby only banter

“Elim,” Julian says, his cup of Tarkalean tea frozen half-way to his mouth. “What on earth are you doing?”

Glancing up from his prone position half under the console, Garak says: “Ah. That depends. Are you, in this instance, engaging in that uniquely Human custom of asking questions to which you do not actually want to hear the answer?”

“If not for my ill-judged personal affections and the Hippocratic oath, I would strangle you,” Julian murmurs, finally sipping his tea.

“Then I owe my life yet again to your respect for that august and ancient man of letters, and to the peculiar enduring blind spot of your normally so discerning heart.” 

Julian laughs and crouches next to him. “I suppose you do. Seriously, though, what’s going on?”

[absoloutenonsense]

Coming October 31st…

When the Trouble Comes by nonsensedarling

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | 80k | Explicit

Official fic post is HERE.

The Queens Trafficking case is the biggest one of Louis’ FBI career so far; eleven reported missing girls all disappeared under a similar set of circumstances. Louis has done everything he can to try and solve this case over the last nine months... while also absolutely ruining his marriage. Harry has been co-host of Banter at Breakfast for five years now and finally has the opportunity to create his own radio show with the network. Unfortunately, it comes at a time where Harry's thoughts are consumed with his impending divorce from his (caring, loving, infuriatingly thoughtful) husband of eight years. Harry and Louis have both been willing to lose themselves in their work… but are they willing to lose each other?

Or a story of (almost) exes-to-lovers.

Chapters will post on Tuesdays of each week, starting on October 31st (20 chapters in total).

(If you would like to be notified by email when it starts posting, you can subscribe here.)

Snippet under the cut:

💼🍷

With a copy of the case file in his backpack, Louis sticks his key in the door, unlocks it, and steps inside, trying to be as quiet as he can because he knows at this time of night, Harry will definitely be asleep.

Except when he shuts the door, he sees the living room light bleeding out into the hallway, a shadow moving back and forth. There’s the sound of footsteps – lots of them, very quickly. Louis stares at the light and for a brief moment panics that he’s walked into their apartment to find Harry with someone else.

He hears light murmurs. Louis leans forward, feet frozen but his ears straining, until he recognizes the murmurs as Harry singing. Louis sighs in relief. Harry isn’t with someone else. He’s singing and probably dancing in the living room, maybe with his headphones in, which is why he hasn’t stopped or popped his head out between the doorframe when Louis opened the door.

Louis isn’t going to look in. He’s going to walk right past the doorway and head straight to the guest bedroom and review the file again, and then go to sleep so he can meet Perrie early in the morning.

He isn’t going to look in.

He really doesn’t mean to look in. A motion pulls his attention in his peripheral vision and his head turns without him realizing it, then his whole body stops moving.

Harry is dancing, wireless earbuds in and a glass of deep red wine in his right hand. There’s a pink tint to his cheeks, which tells Louis that the one in his hand is at least his third. He’s wearing just his boxer briefs and one of Louis’ hoodies.

Well, it was technically Harry’s hoodie originally. It’s heather grey, worn in to just the perfect amount of softness with a faded Greenbay Packers logo on the front. The first time Louis stayed over at Harry’s, he got cold just before they were going to bed. Harry took the sweatshirt from where it was draped over the top of the closet door and passed it to him.

When Louis pulled it on… he can’t really explain it, but there, in Harry’s dreadfully small room in his four-roommate apartment, wearing a hoodie that smelled exactly like him (like he’d been wearing it all day, soaked in the scent of his shampoo and body lotion and fabric softener)... Louis had the same feeling he got when he first visited New York when he was a kid. Like he was home. Harry had agreed. “Looks better on you then it ever has on me,” he’d said with a smirk. And from then on, it was Louis’ hoodie. Harry never tried to take it back.

So the fact that his husband is wearing it now makes Louis feel all sorts of things. Before he has even a second to figure out what any one of them is, Harry opens his eyes.

“Shit fucking Christ,” he exclaims, opening his hand automatically. It’s like Louis watches in slow motion as the glass falls and breaks, shattering in so many different directions. He pulls his earbuds out quickly. “Hell, Louis, you scared the shit out of me!” he scolds.

Harry rises up onto his tiptoes, and Louis’ hand immediately goes out in front of him in a stop gesture.

“Don’t, don’t move,” Louis says. “Stay there.”

He turns quickly towards the kitchen, throwing his backpack somewhere off to the side as he rushes to grab the dustpan and broom, as well as the roll of paper towels.

“I’m coming, stay still,” Louis shouts as he starts jogging back.

He keeps his eyes on the ground as he puts one paper towel down to soak up the wine there, then balls it up so he can sweep away the shards. He does the same as he works his way towards Harry’s feet.

There’s red wine all over his toes, that’s got to be uncomfortable. Louis grabs one of the paper towels and goes to dab his feet to wipe it off.

“Stop,” Harry says. He sounds angry.

Louis glances up and sees that he looks angry. He holds his hands up in a surrendering motion, not wanting to upset him anymore.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well don’t,” Harry spits out.

He stands up slowly. Louis doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Harry this angry with him. Even the time Louis accidentally threw out his favorite pair of boots it wasn’t like this. Louis isn’t prepared for this bitterness coming from his husband, and he didn’t think divorce brought on something like that when it wasn’t there before, at least not before they’d even filed the paperwork.

[ivymarquis]

Today’s mood is being a young single woman at a bar and getting targeted by an older couple who are unicorn hunting.

The wife is sitting on the sidelines while her husband is being waaaaay too pushy and domineering of your time. You’ve told them already you’re waiting for your boyfriend, and of course he wants to keep you company until he can meet the lucky young man.

Being single- there is no boyfriend. So you think fast, eyes scanning across the bar until you see someone who looks approachable enough to along with your ploy.

Like a dog slipping her collar you pull yourself away from the bartop and from the arm with a too-tight grip on you and make a beeline to the man you’ve picked to hopefully be your savior.

Doesn’t matter that there’s 3 other men behind him. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

And God bless this man he doesn’t miss a beat. A soft smile crosses his features like he’s genuinely happy to see you, an arm resting across your shoulders which coming from the married man at the bar had made you feel threatened and trapped. With him you feel safe. The familiarity of the gesture will hopefully sell the idea to the couple at the bar that you’re spoken for.

“Who am I pretending for, luv?” His eyes are scanning the crowd- probably expecting some lone man around your age to be watching like a hawk. There’s none that he can see, only to cough in surprise when you point out the couple.

He raises his fingers in a cocky acknowledgment to the couple. Fuck off, she’s mine.

“You need someone to walk you to your car, luv? Or just waiting them out?”

You hadn’t planned on leaving just yet. The idea of being ran out of here annoys you.

So what had intended to be one more drink turns into you unwittingly ending up at a table with your hero- Kyle- and his group of friends.

And showing your gratitude later by giving him the best head of his life

Also it’ll be so cute at some point he asks why out of everyone at the bar he was the one you picked to go up to and you tell him you felt safe when you saw him.

[neverevan]

Fuck It Friday ☔️

Tagged and tagging @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @wikiangela @honestlydarkprincess @exhuastedpigeon and my sweets whose continuous support means the world to me @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns MWUAH 💛💛

Hey peeps, I've been having some not-exactly-good dreams last night and then had a really not-exactly-good day, on the flipside I have officially finished the first draft of the mudslide fic. 🫡

It still has a lot of blindspots and some kinda vague bits, but the skeleton is there, all I gotta do is build on it! It ended up just over 62k and though now I'm trying to avoid guessing word counts in general, I think it'll come to round out around 70k or so. Anyway, here, have some more Buckley-Diaz domesticity:

“What is it, Chris? Where is the fire?” “Dad!” His smile was so bright that his eyes crinkled with it and it was enough for Eddie to soften and let his grumpiness melt away almost instantaneously. “The Aquarium opens at nine!” Eddie dragged his hands down his face in an attempt to make himself more alert. “You didn’t forget about that, huh?” The door to his bedroom opened behind them and Buck walked out, squinting and looking just as disheveled as Eddie left him in his bed a moment ago. “Buck!” Chris turned his head into his direction. The air stuck in Eddie’s lungs for a split second, expecting the row of questions or accusations from Chris — after all, the kid was intuitive as hell — but it never came. Instead he just pushed past Eddie and grabbed Buck’s wrist, tugging him towards the kitchen, Eddie wandering numbly in their heels. “Hey Chris, wha- what’s going on?” Buck asked, clearly still in awe of the situation he found himself in only minutes after waking up. “The Aquarium opens at nine.” He relayed the same information to Buck as well, but while Eddie just felt a little out of sorts that he actually forgot about their plans, Buck’s face lit up like commercial LED lights. “Well then, we better get started on breakfast, hm? What do you say?” “Waffles!” Christopher cheered and Buck laughed, jovial and full of love and not for the first time, Eddie found that his heart was beating to the rhythm of hope. It wasn’t his fault that waking up in the same bed with Buck, followed by a family breakfast sounded perfect. Well, maybe too perfect. “Sorry bud, I don’t think we have any left in the freezer.” Eddie informed him regretfully, but before Chris could’ve expressed his disappointment, Buck cut in. “Come on Eddie, who needs frozen waffles when I have my Sous Chef to help me with the batter?” Buck winked at Chris who just beamed up at him in response. Eddie didn’t even know what to say to that, so he just watched the two of them idle towards the kitchen before following suit.

[wildflowercryptid]

some kieflo wips from the comic thumbs i worked on when i should've been sleeping. 😅

[bloodydeanwinchester]

Shakey Graves // Kids These Days

Supernatural: 1x12 // 4x16 // 4x18

taglist 1 (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)

@castielsupernatural @demolitiondean @quiet-doll @angelsdean @universalcas @faithcastiel @millicentmarva @fountaincas @deanbroco @waldrea @thigholstercas @castielfucks @youre-only-gay-once @girldaddean @verypissedoffdee @redleavesinthewind @cascigarette @naughtystiel @achillestiel @faithdeans @annaslittlebiitch @castiellesbian @obsessionofspn @my-people-skillls-are-rusty @hauntedpearl @colonel--sarge @latinocas @babygirlstiel @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @flowernerdcastiel @srazten @cockworkangels @birdstiel @shallowseeker @arsonistsam @nvybloo @f-rgetregret @saintedcastiel @oughilovehim @loyalbloggerwhowaits @mrcowboydeanwinchester @cannabiscasgate @deangraham @icarusalchemist @riverwithoutbanks @rainsongdean @nelsonsmynickname @dakrapatops @vegancas @butch--dean

[stellewriites]

did someone say wip wednesday??

for my ghoap x gn!reader that i’m still trying to finish. reallllyyyy raw and unedited and maybe confusing out of context but here it is!

tw hinted non con touching, at most

You woke slowly, warm and comfortable for the first time since arriving and surrounded by a pleasant smoky, masculine scent you subconsciously connected to Johnny. It only grew stronger as you nuzzled further into the pillow and covers.

With a sigh you gladly resigned yourself to sleeping in instead of getting a head start on your sight seeing like you’d originally planned. Tackling the steep hills over the last few days had taken it out of you more than you’d realised.

A deep groan from behind you had your eyes flying open however and you shot up into a seated position, sleep and comfort forgotten in an instant.

At the sight of Johnny laid next to you, bare chested and sleepily grinning, you felt anger burn in your chest at being tricked, being stupid enough to trust him to keep his word in the first place. He scratched at his hairy pecs with one hand and rubbed at his eyes with the other, smothering a satisfied yawn.

“What the fuck?” You seethed as you tried to figure out if you were more freaked out or pissed off. How had you not noticed when he’d joined you last night? You’d not woken even once. Had you been that tired?

“Sorry bon, must’a had one too many bevvy’s last night with Si, got a li’l drunk and came to bed out’a habit instead of staying on the sofa like ah’d promised,” he said and your eyebrows raised as you realised that was the extent of his apology. “Swear I didnae touch ye though. Nothing untoward.”

You continued to frown down at him as your half-asleep brain tried to process everything he said. The chill of the morning air seeped into your skin where the blankets had been thrown off in your panic causing you to shiver. johnny looked down at your bare arms and let the neck of his fingers run up and down soothingly, trying to warm you back up.

“Right,” you said tightly, voice high but thankfully calm. You needed to handle this without incident.

“Ye ok?” Johnny checked, raising up to his elbows and watching you closely. Eerily unblinking as he waited.

“Yeah. Sure,” you assured him, hiding the wobble in your voice. “It was an accident, right? Nothing happened, it’s fine.”

You made a note silently, deciding you were finding a new place to stay that day, no matter the price. This had all gotten far too weird.

[daffi-990]

Inspiration/Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday 📝

Tagged by the wonderful @loserdiaz 😘.

It’s Sunday for me so I’m just merging these two together.

With The Lightning Amnesia Fic finished and just awaiting all the final editing and whatnot (interact with this post if you wanna be tagged), I’ve been slowly working on The Buddie Slow Dance Fic which now has a name!

So here’s seven(ish) sentences from come close, let me be home.

“Looking good out there, Buckley” Eddie says as he hands him a beer.

Buck accepts the bottle and takes a seat beside him, popping the cap off to take a drink. “Any chance we’ll see you bust some moves on the dance floor, Diaz?”

“Maybe, if I have the right partner”.

Eddie’s looking right and him and Buck can feel a blush creeping its way across his cheeks. It’s shit like this that has him thinking maybe this thing between them isn’t just one sided. He takes another pull of beer.

“The night is still young and full of possibilities”.

He swears he sees Eddie’s eyes sparkle, but the man blinks and looks away so he can’t be sure. Buck lets his gaze roam over Eddie for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. He just looks so fucking gorgeous in a suit. All the wedding party are wearing dark navy blue suits (or a dress in Linda’s case) and the colour on Eddie has been making Buck a little hot under the collar all day. Plus the fit of the suit is perfect, hugging Eddie’s body in all the right places, really accentuating his uh .. assets.

Mouth suddenly a lot drier than it was a second ago, Buck brings his drink back up to his lips, letting the cool beer quench at least one of his thirsts.

No pressure tagging: @exhuastedpigeon @wikiangela @giddyupbuck @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @callmenewbie @callaplums @forthewolves @fortheloveofbuddie @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @rainbow-nerdss @try-set-me-on-fire @rewritetheending @athenagranted @spotsandsocks @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @captain-hen @monsterrae1 @eddiebabygirldiaz

[inkblackorchid]

I swear to fucking—this duel is tormenting me. Outline and all, I have been writing on this thing for a month. I'm officially shaming myself for stuffing a duel with too many plot-relevant elements, character moments, and card game actions. Somebody put a dunce hat on me.(Or pat me on the head and tell me to keep going, I am s t r u g g l i n g.)

Like. Don't get me wrong. Would I rather be doing anything else than this? No. Am I still acutely frustrated with how hard it is to juggle several structural writing threads at the same time, while weaving them together to form something coherent? YES.

[altruistic-meme]

me, breaking out my laptop: i am going to write smut. it is going to pwp. i will get through this!!

also me, the moment i start writing: *pouring out feelings and angst and emotions and going nowhere near the planned smut*

[dayurno]

the amazing showstopping life-changing beautiful lovely and talented @alcego tagged me in the writing game where you post all your first sentences from already posted fics (and also the just as amazing showstopping life changing beautiful lovely AND talented roisin, thank you!) but i don't really care much for those lately so here's the first lines of several WIPs at the moment as a compromise :)

Kevin knows he’s being watched. (with @knickknacksandallthat <3)

“Riko? Are you awake?”

In the morning when Jean is supposed to be sent to his death, he takes five minutes out of his schedule to braid Kevin’s hair. (with @jaywalkers :)<3)

Not for the first time, they are in the infirmary. 

“Coach says you don’t talk anymore,” Aaron mumbles, looking out the window awkwardly. 

Christmas dinner with the Gordons is perfect.

Some people ride the crazy train. Jeremy drives it. 

Neil knows the gray does something to people.

what this tells me is that i am bad at writing first lines HAHA :3 i am tagging um everyone who wants to do this. thank you!

[r0semultiverse]

What We Do in the Land of Ooo

🧛‍♂️ What We Do in the Shadows x Adventure Time crossover AU! ⚔

Finn Mertens in place of Guillermo de la Cruz

Marceline Abadeer in place of Nadja of Antipaxos

Bonnibel Bubblegum in place of Laszlo Cravensworth

Jake the dog in place of Colin Robinson

Vampire King in place of Nandor The Relentless

Betty Grof in place of The Guide

The Lich in place of Baron Afanas

Peppermint Butler in place of Wallace the Necromacer

Simon Petrikov in place of Derek

BMO in place of Nadja Doll (her old consciousness uploaded or something was an idea I had)

Marshall Lee & Gary Gumball/Prince in place of Sean & Charmaine

[lenasai]

it's definitely because i choose to write for a very small fandom (comparatively) but i always find it funny when people think their fic "failed" because it only got a few hundred hits

bestie my most successful fic has less than 200 hits, ever. if it even hits 50 that's massively successful for me. we are not the same.

[maxs-hot-takes]

When you and your reincarnation have completely different love interests

[answrs]

going through old drafts from like 2016 and like. you know what, past-me? you did a lot of good even with stuff you never published because you didn't think it was worth it enough to finish. you also managed to write a line that is absolutely sending me at 5:58am in 2023

There's a man staring at him, grinning with the sharpest teeth he's ever seen, and Lewis has watched a lot of anime.

[steelycunt]

an um. snippet. from me. for the first time since. july :-)