#newwip

[larrysmomfics]

Stardust In Our Souls by Larrysmomfics

122k | NOW COMPLETE

Explicit | Magic AU with a soulmate twist | Angst | Humor | Smut | Banter | OT5 | So much of the Styles siblings | Botanical shop owner Harry | Investigative Journalist Louis | Supernatural Elements | Familiars | Witchcraft | Death and Grief |

The death and grief is mostly mentions, however, MCD IS tagged, but I PROMISE it’s the happiest ending!

Harry Styles refuses to fall in love. After finding out about a generational family curse as a ten year old boy, young witch Harry casts a spell to ensure that he'll never find his true love so that he'll never have to experience the heartbreak of losing them.

Fast forward to present day.

With the curse still looming over his and his sister's heads, and no endeavors to help by the Witch Council, Harry decides to send out his own call for help by coming out to the world...as a witch. What he doesn't anticipate is that his coming out video will end up going viral, garnering the attention of not only the Witch Council, but inadvertently summoning the soulmate his ten year old self unknowingly bound to him all those years ago. Harry’s pursuit to break the curse ensues with the enlisted help of his soulmate, unaware investigative journalist Louis Tomlinson.

With a few twists and turns along the path to discovering the origin of the curse, Harry embarks upon a journey of righting past wrongs, solving an unforeseen mystery, and unintentionally entangles himself in an unexpected side quest as well- falling in love.

OR

The witchrry fic inspired by Practical Magic with Stevie Nicks as the High Priestess of Harry’s coven.

READ HERE on AO3!

🔮✨🌱🌙

[eddielhouse]

It started with a girl. Because all the stories always do.

It’s not like I was nothing in those pastel before-days, but there is definite divide between Before Max and After Max. I changed in a way adults around me attributed to growing up, getting older, as if age, not experience, was the thing drawing the line between haze and vivid colour.

WIP Intro

The summer stretches in front of Alissia like a jail sentence, the mundane blandness an endurance. When Max moves in across the road, Alissia is intruiged from afar, until Max pushes her way into the haze built up and strikes excitement into the long summer nights.

For fans of: Skins, the good girl gone bad trope, ya lesbians, coming of age stories, intoxicating prose, teenage girlhood

Title in progress. Character intros and more to come. Follow to stay updated

All pics from Pinterest

[taylorgrace-writes]

💡NEW FIC IDEA 💡

Was just out shopping at the grocery store when I walked past the fresh cut meat section. No idea why my brain went here but like what if there was a #fresh spin off where #stevekemp is a hitman/serial killer/etc. and he happens to own a grocery store where he sells the human meat as “animal meat” and the customers have no feckin idea what they are actually eating is somebody! That is until Y/N finds out ab it…

[4dmc]

#sketchbook #newwip pls excuse the bad photo 🙁

[floweryprosegarden]

I wrote this short story a while ago, intending to submit it to some magazines, leaving it to decay chill until I had time off from uni to edit it. Currently busy af w *shiny* new novel, but  I wanted to share some of it on here to motivate me to work on it. Alors,,,,,,

genre: spooky lit-fic logline: Trudging through the barren Arizona desert after a night out partying, a group of friends come across a cupcake shop owned by a creepy old lady and her cannibal husband.  TW: drug use, dead rats, disturbing cupcake ingredients, murdery elderly people.

   The slope was 90 degrees and we were rock climbing, harnessed to a frayed string that tugged our shoulders. Desert on all sides, not a single car. One cactus, ten yards away, frilled with spines. When a café tiled with orange bricks sprouted above us, we first mistook it as a mirage. The sign read Cupcake Shoppe and assured us they were sustainably sourced and organic—probably made using soy milk or that green powder Julie mixed into milk with a golden spoon. I tried it once; it tasted like marbles.

[radioactiverob]

#newpost #newwip #wip #artproject #artwork #drawing #painting #lineart #illustration #illustrator #create #pencils #inks #latinoartist #artistalatinx come find me for projects, or conceptualized artwork. #jibaro #scenery #bristolboard #twoparter #tonycroato https://www.instagram.com/p/B6Bk6TSgTcE/?igshid=j45mui1fa28a

[blackhorseofcthulhu]

Coming January 2020!

[padawan-writer-blog]

To whomever may be reading this, hello

I made this so that I can post some fanfic that I’ve been working on (none of my friends are really as into Star Wars as I am so they aren’t interested in reading it, so I was hoping that maybe someone on this website would be remotely interested in this)

so yeah

with school and whatever I won’t be posting regularly but I will post when I can

[alysse-diabolik]

Better get started while the image is still there #primingcanvass #acrylicpainting #newwip #wip https://www.instagram.com/p/B1hJTT2AqWc378fI8lRQf-GgKTcnyAXVyLPPKs0/?igshid=l9nxc9la5mcb

[shamelesslypoetic]

Breaking Fractals

-Novel Title: Breaking Fractals

-Genres: Sci-fi, fantasy, adventure, new adult fiction

-Plot:

The lead is a boy with a blind mother who tells him he must keep his powers hidden.

He sleeps away from her in another accommodation but goes to her everyday with food.

He has an aunt but his father is “dead”

He is found out somehow, I haven’t worked how yet but he’ll just be forced to use his powers, whatever they are.

(Dad is actually the leader of the group that takes him away)

Found by a group like their kind but who are very strict and ruthless and accommodations are very simple – beige mats, soup and bread for lunch, bread, an egg and a slab of jam for breakfast, boiled and then fried potatoes for dinner.

A call from “aliens” who want to help them find their place in Earth’s society rather than make them hide and rise up to the Government in a bloody war once they are ready just as the lead is finding his place in the establishment.

Said “Aliens” are actually looking to invade Earth and are hoping these people, powerful and deprived of luxury and love can be taken to their side.

They aren't really aliens but a big group of the gifted who relocated to Mars and built a strong society there.

They hope to go back to Earth, invading it as they are now capable enough but need information on their competition, namely the gifted establishment on Earth.

 What are the leads say in all this? Who will they support; the high tech invasion group that claim they want to help the gifted find their place in Earth's Society or the little vigilantes who crave bloodshed and violence?  

 (Maybe then his father can step in or we can make his father be the other group's leader)

Should I make the boy’s Father the Vigilante group leader or the “aliens” chief that ultimately leads up to a dark dramatic scene where he has to kill his own power hungry father?

 Fight/falling out between Ishani and Aser?

 -Themes: 

Sacrifice, self-acceptance, coming of age, heartbreak

 -Potential lead names/cast:

 ▪ Spencer Macpherson – Aser/Asser Solaris

☆Powers: breaking particles, time pause

 ▪ Deepika Padukone – Ishani Quinn

☆Powers: Phasing, power manipulation and energy transfer, telepathy 

 ▪ Georgie Henely – Camilla Sikes

☆Powers: Superhuman endurance due to crystallized skin, stunning effect, prehensile tendrils

-Inner Turmoil:

Me: Why are we plotting a new WIP when we already have a pile of seven?

My Brain:

Tag List: @liarede @maxseidel @sherlahedgehoggirl @g-marrader21 @reeseweston @forlornraven @elaynab-writing @xiuguri @writerproject @annjonesbooks @crimescenedwrites @storybooksarah (ask to be added/removed)

[comfy-cozy-warm]

Late night cast on . . #newwip #wip #widn #knit #knitter #knitsagram #knittersofinstagram #knittersgonnaknit #makersgonnamake #onmyneedles #proudmadhatter #bookishmadhatter #handmade #handmadeisbest #knitfastdiewarm #nighttimeknitting https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn5rZ44OpXk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[james-stark-the-writer]

My new WIP

So, just thought I'd introduce you people to my new child. As I (think I) said in the Get to Know the writer tag, I've decided to put off The Immortals till I feel confident enough to write it and till I finish this one. The title of the new WIP [as of this draft which I haven't started yet] is A Year At The Opera (or AYATO for short).

There's also a tldr at the end if you don't want to read this.

First off, why am I writing this? It's not a very long or interesting story. I was watching (for the first time in over a decade) Sabrina The Teenage Witch and I'd gotten to episode 20 of season one. I was sitting there, ready to watch another episode, have a good laugh, and episode 21 just blew me away. The episode is called As Westbridge Turns. If you haven't watched it, here's a short summary. The episode has a really good concept (that I'm not sure there are any books about but I'm sure mine's different). So, Sabrina's bored out of her mind cause there's nothing interesting going on in her life. And, to help spice it up, she goes to her Aunt Hilda who gives her a can of Worms. And, once she opens it, for a day, Sabrina's life becomes an episode of a soap opera. Hilarious chaos ensues.

Like why the heck has no one made a book on this that I've heard of?!

So, you've probably guessed off the title and the episode summary what the premise of the book is. But, here's a version of it. (as non spoilery as I can keep it). It's kind of written like a blurb because that's just how I like it. It's a urban fantasy (not a whole lot of magic involved at least so far) about a murder mystery and with soap-opera-ish vibes. And if it's sounds cheesy and cliché, it's supposed to be. Its a book about soap operas. It's gonna be cheesy (but hopefully well written and reasonably cheesy).

'When you're sixteen, everything is a soap opera.'

Summer is over and school is about to start. Everything seems to be going fine. There's new people in town (Svetlana and Ivana), the town's hottest boy (Ingram) is currently in a relationship, the kid with the abusive father (Boris) is alive, the quiet girl (Sabrina, just cause) is keeping secrets, the writer (Aaron) is still sleep deprived and on the first day of school, multiple fights break out. Just an average day of a high school.

But this serene scene is about to be shattered.

Aaron Adler's life is changed when his father, the only man who's ever been there for him, is tragically killed in an accident at work.

And on the night he receives the news, Aaron makes a wish. A wish that changes his life. A wish his father wasn't dead. A wish his life was more interesting. A wish the world was like those soap operas Sabrina enjoyed.

And, to Aaron's absolute shock, his wish is granted. When he wakes up the next morning, his father waits downstairs for him, eating breakfast. And it dawns upon Aaron what he's done. Athea (the town) is about to get a whole lot weirder. With a serial killer on the loose, the party of the year drawing closer, relationships at stake and a year of this, Aaron's life is about to get a whole lot interesting.

Tldr: Aaron's a writer. His dad dies. He makes a wish his life was a soap opera and his wish comes true. Chaos ensues.

My progress on the project: I haven't actually written anything yet, but... I've outlined the first two chapters. The inciting incident is the beginning of the third chapter. I'll start writing once I have the first five chapters outlined. Why am I outlining? I've only tired outlining once before (and that was a short story) and all my other books have been without an outline (at least until two-thirds of the way in and they're riddled with plot holes). Thought I'd give it a try. See how much coherent I can make the story.

Anyway, I'll probably be posting excerpts in a few weeks (once I get to work, you know). Let me know if anyone wants to be tagged. And, I'm still working on the character board I promised I'd post today, so, sorry. It's impossible to find the right pictures.

Also, before I forget, if anyone goes to high school in the UK or America, what usually happens on your first day?

Edit: A Year At The Opera Masterpost

[molleh1596]

It wasn't by choice that Lindsay ended up on the end of a plank, about to jump off her own ship. In fact, nothing that happened in the past year happened to be her choice. Things apparently just happened to her and she rolled with it... which may have not been the wisest course of action, considering her current predicament.

[hufflepuffmommy]

New WIP!

The Magicea Deleo Curse Author: HufflepuffMommy Status: WIP  Rating: M/E

Summary: Hermione and Draco are hit with an unknown curse and she whisks them away to her safehouse to quarantine themselves… or the one where they are stuck in the middle of nowhere with no magic and only one bed! FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13546837/1/The-Magicea-Deleo-Curse AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23555245

[floweryprosegarden]

Last Line Tag #1🍨

Thank you @alicewestwater for the tag! :))) Lil excerpt from my new novel where Amber gets annoyed at Raisa’s ghost while waiting for the bus. you know, just some relatable content ;p

     Raisa laid in a rectangle of grey sunlight under the window, tranquilized by rum and spiraling dust bunnies. Hands folded over her belly, bulging with chocolate covered almonds, eyes shifting like marbles under the orange juice pulp of her lids. Dreaming of cities without people or cars, the houses, puffs of cotton candy with gumdrop path lights and woolly archways.

     I wanted to plug her mouth with the heel of my hand, but to passersby I’d only be cupping air, squinting at concrete. I didn’t want to start off another Tuesday, an unhinged street performer.

tagging: @noteaboy @oceancold @emdrabbles @aelenko @fluoresensitive @writeremma @purgatorydotexe and ofc, anyone else who’d like to do this challenge! 

[thatpaperlife]

Just a bit from my current obsession/WIP. I haven’t figured out a title, working or otherwise for it yet.

My mouth tasted like ash when I woke up. No surprise, since I was partially buried in the stuff. I thought I was in my family’s living room, but I have never seen such devastation in this room. Three walls were missing, gone to where ever the roof was. The furniture was either gone or burnt to a crisp, and the T.V. was one giant lump of melted plastic. The sky was a harsh orange, raining ash as far as I could see.

           I tried to call for my parents but the ash clogged my throat and made me cough. Where was everyone? Was this a forest fire gone bad? What happened?

           My body ached as I pushed myself to my feet, still gasping for air in this smoky hellscape. My house was gone, just the one wall left. All the beautiful trees in my tiny neighborhood were gone, burnt down to stumps or less. What happened? What could have happened to destroy my neighborhood, but not me?

           I wanted to cry, to scream, to panic and freak out. But I couldn’t. it wouldn’t help me in the slightest, and I knew it. The only thing I could do was promise myself time to freak out later, take a deep breath, and start walking. Surely one of my neighbors survived too? I had to see. One foot in front of the other. My resolve lasted all of ten seconds before the tears broke through. Keep moving, I told myself, you can cry and walk at the same time.

I wandered down the street, crying renewed with each devastated home I passed. The ash was knee deep in some places, piled higher where homes used to stand. All the trees that used to shade the road were gone, nothing separating the property lines anymore. There was absolutely no sign of human life on the street. How long had everything been burning? How long was I out cold? Where were the firetrucks, the police cars, the news helicopters? Where was everyone?

There was an awful noise from behind the ruins of Mrs. Perkins house. Something loud, high-pitched. It sounded like someone crying out in pain. Hope stirred in my chest and gave new strength to my hurt body. In the backyard, or at least where the backyard should have been, I found the source of the noise. It was Brutus, Mrs. Perkins Doberman. The poor dog was badly burned, some bones peeking through the remains of his skin. He was alive and crying in agony, lying next to what must have been Mrs. Perkins, but was now a vaguely human-shaped lump of coal. He cried louder when he saw me and tried to stand, but his legs had no more muscle to support him. I cried harder. What was I supposed to do for him?

A step forward, and my foot brushed something hard. It was his water dish, still with water in it. I picked it up and brought it to him, laying it just under his head. Poor Brutus, he plunged his face into the water and drank it as fast as he could, crying again when it was gone. He turned his big, dark eyes to me and licked my face. Slowly, I put my arms around him, trying to avoid the burns I could see. He whined, but didn’t struggle. I guess he was as desperate for comfort as I was.

New tears fell as I remembered the days I had played with him as a child. Brutus always had so much energy, and he loved nothing more than running up and down the street. I used to sneak dog treats to him in the gap in the fencing, and he’d lick my face every chance he got.

He shivered in my arms. I don’t know how long we sat there, crying, but some time had passed when I realized I was supporting his full weight, and that he wasn’t breathing. He was so still, he didn’t respond, no matter how much I shook his doggy shoulder.

“No,” I said. “No, wake up. Wake up, Brutus. Brutus! Wake up! Please!” Hot pain built in my chest, bigger and stronger, until I couldn’t hold it in anymore. My tears were loud, howled to the indifferent wind and sky.