#wipsnips

[baconandpie1]

WIPSnips - deserve

From my WIP '(Not) Looking For An Alpha'

@viplaja :) :) :)

[inventingreality]

Poetry expands the senses and keeps them in prime condition. It keeps you aware of your nose, your eye, your ear, your tongue, your hand. – Ray Bradbury

[missyourflight]

ty @boxboxlewis for the wipsnip tag ✂️❤️ lil bit of space persuasion 🪩

“Did they give you a real big ship?”

“It’s not too bad, I can’t complain.”

Daniel remembers saying, It’s barely even flying, a boat this size, it’s just – parking. The two of them lying shoulder to shoulder on the flat roof of the outpost, Max turning towards him as he said, There are other things to fly.

It had been love, at least for Daniel, the dumb, dogtags-stupid kind of love; it whirled him up like a dust storm for a few months and ended with his bunkmate saying, “Woah, Danny –” as he trashed his quarters, his comcel bouncing off the wall and shattering, everything smashed to pieces.

And now, he feels –

He shakes his head.

“Captain,” he repeats, the rank still strange in his mouth. “You never listened to a word I said, did you?” If it sounds bitter Max doesn’t seem to notice.

“Ah, it was like background noise, you know,” he says, his smile almost hopeful. And it’s worse, somehow, Max trying to joke, his attempt at ease stinging more than if he’d done the decent thing, the fucking normal thing, and blanked Daniel, just shaken his hand and pretended like Daniel never asked him to run away, never humiliated himself in front of his entire crew and threw away his career for no reason.

“You used to say the ships in the fleet weren’t fast enough for you,” Max goes on. “So everything worked out.”

“Guess so,” Daniel says. This is the life he’d always wanted, in a lot of ways. If you’d told him five years ago he’d be racing here, that he’d have this life, he’d barely have been able to imagine it. Five years ago he couldn’t imagine past Max.

Did you miss me, he doesn’t ask.

Someone bumps them from behind: she spills her drink down Max’s sleeve, insists on patting him dry, Hello sailor. Daniel sees his chance to run.

“Enjoy the show, Captain,” he says, leaving on the expectant part of Max’s mouth, whatever he had been about to say lost in the swelling noise of the bar.

In the lift he lets his head thunk against the mirror. What the fuck.

[oknowkiss]

fic post: draco malfoy’s substitute murder service

PAIRING(S): DRARRY, MINOR HARRY/CHARLIE RATING: E WORDCOUNT: 10.5K

READ ON AO3 HERE!

TAGS: Harry POV, Curse Breaker Harry Potter, Knockturn 30 Under 30 Draco Malfoy, Neither of them are very good at their jobs tbh, Both of them are worse at Emotions, They’re great at being horny though, Frotting, Mutual Masturbation, Oops! All Feelings, there’s a lot of monsters, it’s technically a Christmas fic, I saw Harry kissing Santa Claus

WARNINGS: Light Gore (Monster-related, brief mentions of blood and organs), Light Angst, Kinda Sorta Emotional Infidelity (more details in A/N), Open/Ambiguous Ending

SUMMARY: When Harry joins the Curse Breakers shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday, he’s surprised to find himself assigned to the Department of Creatures, Cryptids, and Associated Calamities.

OR: the one where Draco goes goblin mode, and Harry has a thing for monsters.

hello hello! it’s here! my christmas fic! on december 31, which is actually christmas day six so it’s fine. this is for @mintawasalreadytaken who typo’d “baba yaga accidental kiss” in a comment on the july tree and i was like “well, we can’t let that slide.” so i wrote 10k about it. let this be a warning to the rest of you. 

thank you to @sorrybutblog who has, as usual, shined all my rough spots. any remaining mistakes are my fault for sneaking back into the file to fuck around after she put me to bed.

this is the first fic i’ve written since june that hasn’t been for a fest of some kind, and as such i went a little off the self-indulgent deep end. this one is a little dark, a little wacky, a whole lot of sticky, with some Totally Normal Reactions to Kissing thrown in for good measure. i hope you enjoy! 

(special paging in @geesenoises @teacup-tai​ @nv-md @roseharpermaxwell @reliand @epitomereally @makeitp1nk @battleravyn who read the wipsnip here and asked to see more. the more has landed)

[dovesndecay]

Today is a writing day, so have a #wipsnip #wiplines #amwriting #urbanfantasy

[aconitemare]

wipsnips

Tagged by @paperempires which was very thoughtful as it reminded me im not dead yET i’m not coping w my senior year of college well enough to have hobbies

And I’ll tag @perissologist and @jellzu and @skalidra and @salmonellagogo if none of you writers have been tagged yet?? (and want to be??)...and ofc anyone else who wants to join in!! <3

Entitled: [jaydick] Before That, And Colder

But Dick is very much watching, he realizes; Jason looks cast in smooth stone, his eyebrows taut and his lips pressed. Dick thinks of the time when he was fifteen and Bruce took him to the Accademia Gallery in Florence. They had seen David there, Dick tottering backwards and craning his neck to take in the stern countenance. And Bruce was right, it was beautiful, although he hadn’t at the time shared Bruce’s level of awe. Dick had said, rather blandly, something about the statue’s strength.

He looks strong. Bruce had narrowed his eyes as if he was considering Dick’s comment. Really? Bruce had said. I see vulnerability.

Jason’s sudden enormity nearly eclipses the night in its entirety, blotting out potential sharpshooters and wannabe Jokers.

Entitled: HOLD ME DADDY

He thinks the rain wakes him up. There’s gravel beneath him; he can feel it scraping across his back. He must be on some rooftop. He expects Catalina to be there with him, on top of him, pressing him into the cement. There’s the ambient city noise — cars whirring, people talking — but it’s all far away. Up here, everything has stopped. Dick raises a hand to his head and it comes away with blood. Catalina smoothes her hands down his chest and disappears with the sound of his parents as they hit the floor.

He can’t breathe through his nose, but when he opens his mouth, everything tastes burnt. He clambers onto his feet and his vision blurs for a moment, so he stands still until the world rights itself. The remains of a building surround him: some wood, mostly ash. And then he knows he’s not on a rooftop anymore, but on the ground with 1013 Parkthorne Avenue in pieces around him. A few feet from his boots is a partly melted face. He tries to match it to the people in his home, to the girl who had left environmental fliers tucked beneath his door or the guy who had spotted him a dollar for coffee.

Entitled: Talia has a conversation with Dick lmaooooo

They’re in what Talia calls “the drawing room.” It’s not half as Victorian as Dick had expected, although calling it modern would be a mistake. There’s an emerald green chaise and a few other chair-type objects Dick doesn’t know the name of, all arranged before an oppressively large fireplace with a wrap-around mantle.

Dick whistles when he enters the room. “Add a couple of gargoyles and you’d be recreating my childhood bedroom, Ms. Al Ghul.”

Talia, still standing by the door, explains, “Bruce and I have similarly elegant tastes.”

Dick eyes the heavy, black curtains hanging over the windows. “Sure,” he says, tone somewhere between polite and sarcastic. This is a place where natural light goes to die.

Talia folds her hands in front of her and Dick carefully avoids lingering on the rings across her fingers. “Staff should be here with tea soon, if that’s alright,” she offers. Then, after apparently a moment’s consideration, “I am very grateful that you have accepted my invitation for lunch.”

Dick forces a smile he isn’t sure is kind or not. “What’s family for?”

“In my experience or yours?” Talia replies.

Entitled: Rory/Paris

Rory clasps her hands together. “Turn around?” she requests.

Paris obliges, straightening her jacket as she faces Rory. Rory envisions Jamie opening the door and seeing her. She wonders how Paris will look to him, if he’ll think she’s pretty, if he’ll not know quite what to make of her standing like this — in smooth satin, with lavender eyelids.

“Well?” Paris prods.

Rory works her jaw. “Perfect.”

Paris’ brown eyes are imploring, almost puppyish. “Promise?” she asks, like Rory might be lying. Like it’s important she’s not.

“Swear.”

“Thanks,” says Paris gratefully. Then her puppy eyes sober. “Now get in the closet,” she orders.

Rory’s heart freezes in her chest. “What?”

Entitled: divorced men's guide to staying the hell away from girls way too cool for you

“Fantastic,” Axton deadpans.

“Ooh, very growly,” Ellie remarks. “Is that your natural voice? Or do you talk like that on purpose?”

Axton blinks and shakes his head in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“Oh, come on,” Ellie coaxes, “don’t be trying to front with me, cowboy. I may not seem it, cooped up in my garage all day with poor Loggins, but I’ve met my fair share of people. Everyone is always acting like they’re someone, and the second thing they do is talk different.”

“And the first thing?”

Ellie smiles openly, as if she’s just glad to be asked, to have the conversation continued. “Get a new look,” she answers. Axton’s mind flashes again to Mad Moxxi, strapped into a corset with a top hat over her cartoonishly red cheeks, always speaking just low enough that you have to work to hear her over the blaring jukebox.

[baconandpie1]

WIPSnips - replace

From another (unpublished) WIP of mine - where all Castiel wants to do is help Dean.

Well... good intentions are not always enough.

[m0srael]

Thursday WIP snip!

Thanks, @wynnyfryd!! @nv-md, @apr1cots, @moonstruckwytch, @starlitsilvereyes: whatcha got??

He’s almost ready to go back in—dinner will be over soon and they still have no idea where the eighth year students will be staying—when he hears it. A low rumbling sound that echoes off the courtyard walls. He looks around for the source, unable to pinpoint it, and then—

Someone comes flying through the archway next to him. They aren’t on a broom, but they’re definitely airborne. It isn’t until their feet hit the ground and they roll further into the center of the courtyard before skidding to a stop that Harry understands what he’s seeing.

Draco Malfoy pops his skateboard up off the ground and catches it effortlessly in one hand.

He lifts the other hand to push his hair—short on the sides, but shaggy on top and parted down the middle—out of his sweaty face. He’s only wearing a thin, white vest—having bunched up his button down shirt like a tea towel and tucked it into the waistband of his black uniform trousers. They look two sizes too big for him and sit low on his hips—the only thing protecting them from the pull of gravity is a leather belt covered in shiny, silver studs. The hems of his trousers are frayed and dirty where they are tucked behind the tongues of thick-soled sneakers decorated with a black and white checkerboard pattern.

Harry has to remind himself to breathe, and audibly clicks his gaping jaw shut.

[baconandpie1]

WIPSnips - disaster

From an unpublished as of yet WIP of mine - biological BDSM - Castiel sets out to help Dean, but things are never that simple.

@viplaja - I need a title for this one :D :D :D

Actually, anyone can suggest if you feel like it.

Castiel and Dean do not know each other, and Dean is looking for a dominant who will do scenes with him once a week (biologically a must), anonymously.

Things get complicated after a while. They always do when Castiel and Dean are involved.

[baconandpie1]

WIPSnips - echo

From my WIP '

Impala67 Or How Not To Start A Relationship'

Castiel has a real problem with dating...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46518256/chapters/117135985

[baconandpie1]

(Not) Looking For An Alpha

[baconandpie1]

(Not) Looking For An Alpha

Posting as part of the daily WIPSnips over on Bluesky

[baconandpie1]

(Not) Looking For An Alpha

Another quote from my WIP, as part of WIPSnips over on Bluesky.