"you're lucky you're pretty" for the wip game 👀
lol this one is funny to me because it was born out of multiple people commenting on one of my fics that Dream was "lucky he's pretty" and I thought "hey you could make angst outta that 👀"
Dream has never been more thankful for how heavily Hob sleeps than he is now as his alarm goes off from beneath his pillow. He switches it off quickly, holding his breath as he waits to make sure that Hob is still asleep. For several minutes, he watches the gentle rise and fall of Hob’s chest, listens to his soft snores, smiles to himself at the drool collecting on the pillow beneath Hob’s open mouth.
He’s perfect. Dream wants so badly to be good enough for him.
With that in mind, he carefully rises from bed, tiptoeing to the bathroom and closing the door behind him quietly. When he turns the light on, he winces, but blinks rapidly to adjust to the light. He winces again when he sees his reflection.
Something in his chest tightens. Gratitude, or relief, or horror.
He’s so glad Hob won’t have to see him like this.
Pulling out his supplies from under the sink, he gets to work. He carefully cleans off smeared eyeliner, reapplies concealer where it’s rubbed off, fixes his hair where it’d been pressed flat against his pillow. Methodically, meticulously, he does his best to cover every and any flaw.
When he crawls back into bed, he positions himself carefully, not wanting to undo his hard work. He keeps himself tense and rigid, eyes glancing over to where Hob is still sleeping soundly.
Turning his eyes towards the ceiling, he keeps himself perfectly still until Hob awakens two hours later.
“Man, it’s not smudged or anything!” Hob comments, leaning in to look at Dream’s eyeliner in surprise after kissing him good morning.
Dream laughs and hopes Hob doesn’t hear how nervous he is, pushing at his chest lightly to try to lessen his scrutiny, “High quality makeup usually lasts several days.” That sounded believable, right?
Hob frowned, “Really?”
“Of course,” Dream smiled, trying his hardest to seem nonchalant, “I simply use good products, that’s all.”
“Huh,” Hob shrugged, smiling as he gave Dream another kiss before rising, “I really don’t know anything about that stuff,” he laughed.
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hey y'all! this isn't really a formal ~announcement~ so much as it is something i just wanted to express so i would stop feeling like i was somehow keeping it a secret
i've been having trouble with motivation re: ttdl, and i have been for a while now. i don't know when that'll change. it's not a matter of not knowing what comes next - it's the process of actually putting it down on the page that's been difficult for me. so i'm not sure when i'll be able to update it again.
i don't intend to abandon it, but i also need to give myself the freedom to work on what comes to me in the moment, instead of turning ttdl-being-unfinished into a weapon that i use to beat myself up whenever i have another idea i want to write. that would be a surefire way to make me never want to work on it again
so, instead, i'm going to think of it as letting ttdl rest. it's been a long journey to get here, and it's time to pause and recuperate. thank you so much to everyone who's been a part of this process so far - i appreciate you more than i can say!
as always, thanks for reading!!
-love, birl<3
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Hey! Found your work through Last Call and I'm mesmerized by how well you write character interactions. I don't know if you are still accepting writing prompt ideas but I've got a bunch of these dirty ones to offload so uhm anyone reading this feel free to use:
Teasing Rk900 at a conference meeting gone wrong! (Angry closet/ bathroom sex)
improvised bdsm toys with a belt and tie
Installing an upgrade to an RK unit....testing it out.
Moody car sex
Getting chased down in an alley and fucked for fun
Enjoying nature
Getting caught snooping online to see if RK units have dicks, Getting caught by smug bastard
anon. ANON. do you have ANY idea what you’ve done?
first of all. thank you, I’m yelling so much because of your lovely words. SECONDLY:
I am not technically open for fic prompts. TECHNICALLY. I added a note to last call about prompts to just… see if anyone was interested before I started over here. I’m not a particularly speedy writer but I love a challenge and I know you horny monsters have the BEST ideas.
THAT SAID. I’m writing every damn thing on your list. your list itself is in my WIP journal with hearts and dicks and sparkles doodled around it. you have no idea how excited I am. I’m clawing at the WALLS HERE
and with that: I’m officially open to receive fic prompts now. ask for anything.
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You know, with ao3 down (for who knows how long) this is probably a great time for me to get my ass back to working on the Killer and Healer rewrite. Because again, I haven’t touched it for a fucking MONTH. A MONTH. And right now, I got all the time in the fucking world. I need to get my shit together and work on that
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Chapter 1/2
Rating: T+
Summary: A young Nick Stokes talks to a stranger and walks into danger as Judge Bill Stokes is faced with the worst nights of his life when the brother of a locked up criminal kidnaps his son for ransom; a kidnapping that wouldn't be Nick's last.
Notes: I still have a ways to go on this fic but nickjack01 on AO3 gave me this wonderful prompt a few months ago and I wanted to share what I have so far, since it seems like my writing output isn't what it used to be these days. (not that word count matters or anything, I just feel bad that I have all these prompts that I haven't written/shared)
read on ao3
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Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?
Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.
I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.
Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.
There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.
And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.
And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.
I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.
Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.
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