#it is wip wednesday and my dumbass wanted to participate

[books-and-dragons]

i forgot how terrifying posting content is omg fuck this do i really wanna be writing again

[sopherfly]

WIP Wednesday | 01-03-24 | temple mistress & sopherfly

Today’s WIP Wednesday is for a different pairing than usual, and @temple-mistress and I are very excited to share it!

~

Knights Out: the hallowed—if somewhat underground—annual bash for all the Padawans who have ascended to Knighthood in the past year. (Not openly endorsed by the Council or any self-respecting and proper Jedi Knight.) It’s not uncommon to find Council Members and other revered Masters dancing on tables, participating in drinking contests, or sucking someone off in a corner at Knights Out. Organized by a semi-secret host each year, no one is actually ever invited to the party, but somehow word of the date, time, and venue always seems to fall on the right ears.

Ol’ Quinny’s missed you, baby. It’s good to be back.

Strolling through the venue, Quin takes in the raucous, hedonistic atmosphere with a huge grin.  Another year, another class of new Jedi Knights celebrating their promotion in every single degenerate way possible.

Quin wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’d missed last year, in deep cover for a weapons smuggling operation on Lothal, and by the looks of it, Knights Out is bigger and better than ever. Quin figures he’ll never tire of this scene, of watching all the outwardly prudish and repressed Masters and Knights of the Jedi Order let loose like it’s the last time they’ll ever get to drink and fuck. He likes to think it’s healthy, for the good of the Order and the Republic and all that, to work out that sexual aggression at least once a year. More fun than a trip to a mind healer, too.

Unless it’s that Chiss mind healer in the boots on Devaron…

He spots Fisto in a booth, boots propped up and spread out on the table while a familiar set of blue lekku pop up rhythmically into view. That’s my girl, Quin thinks proudly, giving the Nautolan a jaunty salute. Fisto smiles widely—all teeth—and Aayla pulls off long enough to blow Quin a saucy kiss. He isn’t jealous—he never is, sex is meant to be shared and Quin is generous—but it does quicken his step. 

He’s already had a couple of decent hookups tonight, but he’s saved the one he knows will be the best for last, and his cock jumps just a little in anticipation: Mace fucking Windu, the bald, grumpy-ass, Master of Vaapad, Seer of Shatterpoints, Deputy Grandmaster of the Jedi Order.  

Titles don’t do much for Quin, and none of them impress him nearly as much as the man’s thick, delicious cock, incredible stamina, and a nearly imperceptible refractory period. He also has to admit it doesn’t hurt his ego much that he gets to be the one to see Mace Windu sweat and beg and shout out Quin's name when he comes.

Quin scans the bar area, smirking when he sees that dumbass Skywalker pulling Kenobi into the back room behind the bar. He’s almost tempted to follow them, see if they’ll let him watch this time. Quin laughs at the thought, knowing better than to even hint at a joint maneuver—between Skyboy’s scowl and Sithy-Wan’s glare, it’d totally kill the vibe.

It was a good run with Kenobi for a couple of years, a casual fuck here, a hand job there—nothing serious, which was what made it perfect. Now that he’s got Skywalker, Kenobi is all heart-eyes and moonbeams, and, Quin shudders, monogamy. No, Quinlan Vos wants to fuck and be fucked and enjoy all the benefits of shared pleasure without limit. 

Not one to look too closely at a good thing, Quin nevertheless knows this arrangement with Windu is…different. It’s more than just fuck buddies, and not just because Windu would frown deeper than Kenobi does whenever Quin casually suggests a threesome at being called anyone’s buddy. Quin doesn’t know quite how it’s different, it just is, and he likes it. He likes knowing that Mace will stand up to him, tell him off, shut him down if he deserves it. Few are brave enough to try. Even fewer succeed, which makes Windu all the more attractive.

And a godsdamn good fuck.

[lambourngb]

it takes love to make this work - cheerleaders

Day 7 (Belated) This time last year I was slowly moving from lurker to participant in fandom. I can’t tell you how much my life has changed since then, from finishing and publishing work in fandom, to finding discord, to finally seeing my work on a rec post. Like if you had asked past me if any of that was going to happen, I would have laughed myself sick.

This journey though wasn’t traveled alone- so here are really a few (like criminally few - because there’s so many people to thank!!) people that altered my life in positive ways.

The muse wranglers:

First, I mean it’s probably not a secret because if you ask me about Last Year’s Wishes, I will talk your ear off about how it was written, but it wouldn’t exist without @ninswhimsy. 2019 was a trashfire for both of us, and the only thing keeping me sane was trading DMs about sad head canons, and then chucking clumps of my never ending story at her. She helped me iron out details, sent me the encouraging crying emojis and held my hand through all of it. Guess what? That experience didn’t scare her away, and I pretty much would have never written “Leave the Fire Burning” if it hadn’t been for her. It also helps that we are twins in how we view the canon- critical but still loving those dumbass characters. 

@tasyfa : As someone who doesn’t read serials, I love that you offered your services just based on knowing I was writing a long, canon compliant story. Of course, once I had you, I wasn’t letting you go! Thank you so much for being endlessly patient with my repeated grammatical errors, polishing the awkward sentences, and giving this needy author just enough head-pats to keep me going. One day I will finish more work for you to make legible. ❤️

The forces of positivity/promotion

@queersirius  you write, you comment, you gif, you vid, and you give back with beautiful rec sets- if you told me you also fight crime, I would believe it because you have superpowers in my head. My dash would be a darker place without you. I’m so glad you never sleep or your queue is perfectly timed - either way, I love our interactions. I doubly treasure the two rec posts you made for me, like omg I still get shivers looking at the gifs.

@jumbled-nonsense - I have a screenshot where you read and liked all the 24 bits of Last Years Wishes, turning my quiet notification day of one or two, until an explosion of color. Thank you so much for supporting my story, making me art, and helping me make it the best it could be - ❤️❤️❤️ I was in a low spot, of feeling like what I was doing was something only I wanted? I really needed that reassurance that there was an audience for my vision of a season 1 fixit.

The feedbackers :  

@arielana: I’m so glad you’re on tumblr and already making it a more positive place, not that I was surprised. Your comments on my work are always so thoughtful, encouraging and usually way too much for my fragile heart to handle - the fact you love LYW like you do, that you reread and comment again? It’s almost unbelievable. Your efforts are noticed, appreciated, and help me keep my jerk-brain in check. Thank you.

@zuluoscarecho: Oh my friend, I know season 2 was rough but thank you for hanging in there with me, I love your messages, I love your promotion of malex, I love your comments- everything you bring to my dash is appreciated. When LYW was just a bunch of WIP Wednesday and Six Sentence Sunday scraps, you reblogged every one and left me delightful notes in your tags. That was true fuel to keep going. I treasured your asks about the writing process, because then I could fake it like I knew what I was doing, so thank you! And I still have a trio of your comments on my latest to answer, but I couldn’t let this cheerleader day go without giving you some love.

@jocarthage I might have called Millie a superhero up-thread, but you also share that cape for me. You bring so many interesting facets of knowledge to discord, you write beautifully complex stories, you support fellow writers with feedback within the process and afterwards in a comment. We are all clinging to fandom spaces a little tighter these days, and with that anxiety, sometimes I personally have to fight off some darkness - but your example is a true light to me. I can’t always follow in your footsteps, but that makes me appreciate your efforts even more. I also lack words to describe how beautiful and wonderful your comments are (still have some to answer on ‘Leave the Fire Burning’). I’m forever grateful you use your spoons the way you do in fandom. Thank you.

The collaborative canon-therapy group:

@soberqueerinthewild, @el-gilliath, @christchex @haloud - thank you guys for being there for me. I can bring you my brightest thoughts and my darkest thoughts, and there’s no judgment. Picking through the twists and turns of this silly show about aliens is richer with you guys around. 

[1000-directions]

wip wednesday: winterhawk punks (still) in love

Bucky and Clint both have really compelling arguments for why Steve absolutely should not attempt to give himself a face tattoo. Bucky’s argument is that it’s needlessly dangerous and risky, and Clint’s argument is that it’s probably going to look extremely fucking stupid.

When they’re sitting with Steve in the emergency department waiting area four days later to have a doctor take a look at the truly disgusting staph infection that has taken over half his face, it seems pretty clear that they’ve both won.

Clint’s helping Steve fill out the paperwork because his eye’s so swollen shut that he can’t see the page, and Bucky can’t manage a clipboard too well on his best day. Plus, he’s still fucking furious at Steve’s reckless ass for bringing this upon himself.

“Don’t tell them my address!” Steve is hissing at Clint, but Clint ignores him and keeps filling out the form.

“It wants to know the nature of your injury,” Clint says. “What should I put? ‘Made an unwise permanent style choice’?”

“How about ‘stuck an infected needle in my face like a dumbass,’” Bucky suggests idly, and Clint snickers.

“Don’t write that!” Steve protests, swatting at Clint’s arm. “Bucky, he’s fucking writing it.”

“Don’t blame Clint for your shitty decisions,” Bucky says, frowning.

“Both of you quit it,” Clint says. Without looking up from the form, he places his right hand on Bucky’s upper thigh, rubbing his thumb in small circles, and Bucky smiles. “Okay, I need your health insurance.”

“I don’t have health insurance,” Steve says, spitting out the words like they’re poison. “Medical care is a goddamn human right. I refuse to participate in a system that decides who lives and who dies based on how much money they make.”

“Shut the fuck up, Steve,” Bucky says tiredly, reaching for his wallet. It’s two in the morning, and he doesn’t have the energy for this right now. “You work for Stark Tech. You have the same insurance I do. Clint, I keep a copy of his card with me.”

“I do not have health insurance,” Steve says, dumbfounded. Bucky locates the card in his wallet and hands it over to Clint, who starts copying down the information. “I have health insurance?”

“Looks like the hospital is going to be compensated for the medical care they provide you,” Clint says apologetically. “You’ll have to single-handedly take down the HMOs another day, man.”

“I fucking hate you guys,” Steve says, slumping down in his seat. “My face hurts, and you’re both being dicks.”

It’s not worth arguing with Steve about how this entire situation is one-hundred percent his own stubborn fault.

They do end up arguing with him about it, of course, but it’s definitely not worth it.