#sneak peek sunday
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Sneak Peek Sunday
I woke up at three am with this scene stuck in my head for one of my new multi-chap wips and just had to share it with you.
He noticed she approached him slowly, her body slightly trembling and appearing to him as a scared little doe for the first time. A wave of anger swept through him, but Inuyasha pushed it back, swearing that he would never be so stupid again as to let her believe these things about his love for her. Of course he was angry, but never at her, however the woman before him didn’t know that because he had refused to acknowledge her pain over the last few weeks.
He knew he needed to tell her, but finding words to explain the entirety of this messed situation wasn't easy. He had always been someone to show people how he felt, but his girl needed to hear the words, so he would make himself tell her everything.
Holding out his hand, Kagome slid her fingers across her palm and he tugged her forward, her tiny body collapsing into his as they arranged themselves comfortably on the velvet couch. She kept her eyes on his chest and he waited patiently for her to look at him, but when she refused, he let out a loud sigh.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“N-no, I, um, didn’t think you wanted to touch me after what you said last night.” She squeezed her eyes shut, her body shrinking in on itself and a river of tears already escaping down her cheeks. “You said you felt sick everytime you looked at me and I was afraid you stopped loving me.”
He had never felt heartbreak before, but he assumed this awful feeling that had formed in his gut with her confession was exactly that, and it was probably nothing compared to what she was feeling. I royally fucked up. Holding her as close to his body as he possibly could, still conscious of her bruised ribs, he let her sob, each sound making him feel worse and worse. Once her cries began to soften, he kissed her forehead, keeping his voice low and her cheek pressed to his chest. There was no in hell he wanted to have the entire office hear him groveling at her feet. Though, if that’s what she wants, I’ll do it with my head held high.
“I’m so incredibly sorry baby. I never meant for you to hear that, let alone you take it like that. Each time I saw what that fucker did,” He paused, his grip tightening when he pictured the dark eyed bastard, pushing aside the new wave of anger before continuing, “I was so angry at myself that I felt sick.”
“Why?”
“I felt that I wasn’t enough to stop him, that it was my fault that you were missing for three days and being held prisoner, that you were hurting and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. It was also the reason that I’ve restrained myself from touching you. I was afraid of hurting you more, and the first time I saw you in the hospital? You looked dead, baby, and ever since, I couldn’t picture anything different.”
He was so focused on giving her space to heal, that he hadn't realized she needed him as badly as he needed her, that the only way for her to get better was for him to be at her side. Yeah, I am a complete idiot. And now, he was apologizing for it, vowing to himself he would anything to have her smile, that favorite one of his that always took his breath away, and to have her look at him with all the love in the world as she once had.
“Was it really that bad at first?”
“You were unconscious for almost a week, but that first day? We barely recognized you because your body was so broken.” She pulled away, her gaze boring into his as he forced himself to tell her everything, new tears falling from both of their cheeks. “I’ve been such an idiot since. Instead of diving head first into work to avoid all of this, I should’ve been by your side, comforting you because we both needed that. I never meant to hurt any more than you already were.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, preparing for the worse with what he was about to ask. “Will you forgive me, my love?”
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Sneak Peek Sunday
Here’s a snippet of the next chapter of The Lighthouse Keeper. Some action ended up happening (I say as if I didn’t plan it)
. . . . .
Path now clear, Din made a dash for the lift.
He pressed the button and, in a stroke of luck, the doors opened instantly, the carriage already waiting on this floor. He unclipped all of his remaining charges, primed them, and tossed them in.
He was about to send the lift down when a blaster bolt struck him in the back.
It hit the beskar plating of his Phoenix and bounced right off but the force of it caught him off guard and, thus, knocked him off balance, sending him crashing down on his hands and knees.
He twisted the moment he hit the ground, brandishing and reigniting the Darksaber in the same motion. He whirled around and blocked a bolt meant to strike him where the beskar ended.
But he was still on the ground.
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A lil bit of the Best Man Confessional fic:
He couldn't believe the gall Lex had in actually asking him to be his best man again. Hell, he couldn't believe Lex was even getting married again, after the increasing failures of the last three. You would think the man would have learned to stay as far away from the altar as possible after two attempts on his life and Lana faking her death.
And just how their friendship survived Lex's relationship with Lana, Clark still isn't completely sure. It took a few years to get them back to the shaky foundation they currently maintained, and he wasn't sure if Lex had asked him out of sincerity or desperation. Somehow, as rocky as their friendship was, he was still the closest person in Lex's life. The only one who hadn't given up hope that Lex could change.
He still saw the good in him, still saw that promising young man that had helped Smallville thrive for years. Still saw Alexander. And, beneath it all, even if he didn't want to admit it to himself, still saw the man he fell in love with.
So, when the time came to give Lex a bachelor party, he accepted Lex's platinum card with grace. And a plan worthy of a Luthor.
@leatafandom
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Sneak Peak Sunday (inspired by @blairwaldcrf)
September 30, 2023; 10:35 PM
”Paigeyyy…” Alex sighed, arching her back as her wife continued to leave kisses down her stomach. “Come on.” She pouted. Paige needed to stop teasing her and just do what she wanted. Now.
Paige giggled, “Hun, don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.” She immediately settled between her wife’s legs, sighing. Alex moaned, arching her back. She couldn’t believe she spent so many years away from this. Away from Paige.
Paige
Tagging my palex shipping degrassi moots: @userbettycooper @seancamerons
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Sneak peek Sunday. I’m so unserious
#if y’all knew how many wips I’m like halfway done with#you would be concerned for me#my adhd is so bad#I cannot finish one thing before I go to the next#potm#sneak peek sunday
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Sneak peek sundays!
Hey everyone! I'm back and got a little treat for you.
My life has taken an unexpected turn this last week and I honestly don't know when I'll actually be able to post an actual fully done and edited chapter of, well, anything. But as a small reminder of moi and my deviant, filthy mind here I present a special sneaky smutty treat of chapter 5 of Secret Crushes.
Murphy's smile grew as he mouthed at the white lace covering your core. He was beginning to love those sweet little sighs and moans he bought forth from those sinfully plump lips. His teeth nipped lightly, sending a flood of desire to your stomach. Your hands gripped his hair as he sucked.
"Oh god! Murphy!" You cried out as you neared your orgasm, nails raking along his scalp and causing the man to hiss in pain. The sharp nip he gave in return had you spiralling over the edge. Your legs shook as he worked you over and over again before kissing his way up your body. You panted as he smirked down at you.
"Ye alright there lass?" He whispered, running his nose along your neck and placing light little kisses across your skin. You nod and pull his lips to yours as your hands pull on his belt before sliding to your knees. Your nimble fingers made quick work of the offending item and your hand closed around Murphy's impressive length as you peppered tiny kitten licks to his swollen head, teasing him slowly as he threw his head upwards.
"Should never.... Oh... Taught ye that..."
"Yea but you did. Now are you gonna fuck me?" You whispered in his ear as his lips attacked your pulse. "The way only you can..."
And that's ya lot. Ya just gonna have to be patient and wait for the full chapter cos it's a doozy.
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Sneak Peek Sunday
He’d wanted to stay on the Aeres. It made no sense why he had been shuffled off to the capital’s medical personnel that checked in on him far too often for the lesser treatment he received. The only fragment of an answer that they had given him as to the why had been that the orders had come down from the Emperor himself. It was meant to appear as if he’d taken a special interest in young Natus’ care. As far as Luke had ever seen, Sidious did nothing that didn’t benefit him personally on a variety of levels.
So he’d been put on leave until he recovered, which was taking longer there than it ever would have on the Aeres. Father had been sent away. Mara had been sent away. Luke remained a prisoner in his own apartments within the palace and he was ready to snap the neck of the next medic that was just checking on him.
He had to get out of there. It was a good thing he had perfected the art of sneaking out when he was young.
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Tarlos Break Up Era (Secret Messages) 📩 @chaotictarlos
Nothing really ever changes, does it? At least not the things that matter.
The words are a clear contradiction to who TK is at his core. TK has never believed in permanence of situations/people/feelings, sometimes to the detriment of believing that nothing good ever stays, but he always believed that things could change.
Once, TK had told him that ‘nothing ever stays the same’ and now he’s saying that ‘nothing ever changes’. He supposes the sentiments aren’t necessarily the same, but the lack of hopefulness in the words blankets him. Even at his most wary, even when he was pushing and pulling Carlos in every direction, TK never completely disregarded the possibility of things changing.
In the beginning TK had told Carlos he wasn’t ready. Not that he wouldn’t ever be ready.
Before the solar storm TK told him that he needed to figure out himself before he could figure them out. Not that he would never be willing to figure them out.
With Carlos’ parents, TK promised to be whatever he needed, until he was ready because, nothing ever stays the same and he had faith in Carlos being ready sometime.
After the fire Carlos lost count of the number of times TK comforted him by reminding him that living with Owen wouldn’t be a forever thing, that things change.
During their last fight TK had shouted that he knew it wouldn’t last, that nothing ever stays the same. At the time it had just hurt to hear those words that Carlos once took reassurance from used against him. Now he realizes that TK hasn’t had anything permanent. He hasn’t had anything stay for him, not his parents, not his sobriety, not his love.
Carlos wants to be the one to change that. Same as he always has, but now with a new understanding of why TK doesn’t believe happiness will last.
With that thought he clicks play on the next message.
November 12th, 2021
*A quiet sob, then another a little louder, a little clearer*
“Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m sorry��
Carlos' heart speeds up as anxiety courses through him, but before he can move, before he can even catch a coherent thought the screech of the heart monitor has him snapping to attention. His heart speeds up for an entirely different reason now as he shouts for the nurse and stumbles to his feet.
As he’s pushed out of the room and watches the medical staff rush to keep TK alive, all Carlos can hear is that devastated voice telling him I’m sorry. Almost as if TK was telling Carlos he’s sorry for giving up then and now. As the screech of the heart monitor flatlines, Carlos prays for it to change, because losing TK can’t be the one thing in his life that stays the same.
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Sneak Peek Sunday
A bit of The Lighthouse Keeper this fine day; I’m hopping between this and Echoes at the moment but I’m more settled with how this part’s going so far
. . . . .
At dinner that night, Din forewent the post-meal chatter. Excusing himself with mumbled words, he took his leave and sequestered away to his cabin.
No one saw hide or hair of him the next morning. Sabine wasn’t surprised by his absence from breakfast—she suspected he might sleep in late after that training session—but she didn’t expect him to sleep the whole morning through and guilt festered with every hour that wore on without his door so much as cracking.
When it finally did open, it wasn’t him but Grogu who emerged.
With a comfortable gait like he very much belonged here now, the little one waddled off into the galley to procure his own breakfast. Sabine followed to help but he already had the door of the cold store wide open by the time she came along. His ears perked when he laid eyes on the containers of leftovers from their fireside dinner so she retrieved the container to save him climbing the shelves. She offered to dish them out and heat them through but he shook his head. She handed him the tub and he toddled off, back to the cabin, dragging it behind him like a trunk.
Sabine didn’t mean to but she walked by the door to Din’s cabin more often than necessity dictated until she fell into what was really just convoluted and intermittent pacing. By midday, when there was still no sign of him, she began worrying.
Then his door opened.
She heard the faint hiss from the common room and all but sprang from her seat at the nook.
When she reached the corridor, she had enough presence of mind to slow down, not act like some fretful child; she had no reason to, she told herself: it was just a training session. So it got a little rough; he was made of tougher stuff than that—they both were.
Nevertheless, seeing him shuffle stiffly out of his cabin with his bad leg noticeably dragging, a hand stuck to the hull for balance, hair tousled and dark circles smudged under his eyes had her gut knotting up.
Grogu followed close behind him, chittering expressively as he signed in chops and jabs. He looked to be either ordering his father around, lecturing him, or simply (emphatically) stating his feelings on the matter. (Sabine caught the words “need” and “eat” and decided all three explanations were appropriate.)
Din let out a sigh—the mild, short one that wasn’t so annoyed as it was exasperated, couched with fondness.
“Caf first, you little tyrant,” he mumbled. He took a step and raised his head, the way one naturally does, but he saw Sabine and paused, blinking not quite like he had been caught but like she had appeared out of thin air.
“Still alive?” she quipped, brandishing a quirk of a smile.
“Despite your best efforts,” he parried with a brush of a laugh.
It was as short as that, their exchange, and it should’ve been nothing, just a passing moment, barely a blip in either one’s day… but it wasn’t.
It wasn’t because he didn’t take another step, didn’t drop his head or take that little breath that substituted a full-stop, and she didn’t drift out of his intended path, didn’t duck her head or let her gaze flit away in that standard manner used to signal the close of an exchange.
Without hint or sign, they stayed. Mutually, comfortably, like they meant to keep talking only neither of them had anything prepared for the silence.
Grogu, however, still had his mission.
He climbed up Din’s pant leg with surprising speed and efficiency, not pausing until he was up on his shirt.
Din noticed it right away but just let it happen, holding his arm out the way until the little one was clinging to his side like a marsupial.
“Eat,” Grogu signed with an urgent, slightly cross expression. Patting Din with the claw not fisted in fabric, he called his attention and then pointed in the direction of the galley. “You need to eat.”
“Alright, alright,” Din murmured, making a gentle “calm down” gesture. “Tiny dictator,” Sabine heard him mutter as he brushed by her.
#din djarin#grogu djarin#sabine wren#the mandalorian#star wars rebels#the mandalorian fanfiction#star wars rebels fanfic#my writing#WiP#work in progress#sneak peek sunday#lift a sail#djarwren
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An excerpt from the Clex wip (for some reason this is being written, at least for now, in first person pov switching back and forth between Lex and Clark), set somewhere between Blank and Ageless:
Lex's POV:
So many starts to conversations that ended before they really went anywhere. So many opportunities to get closer, to rid ourselves of the distance between us, to bring to light the secrets that stained and strained our friendship. But then, that was why I was usually the one ending them, wasn't it? Even when I was the one who started it. Pulled away, put the walls back up, slipped that mask of cool indifference back on, before he could get too close. Because if he did, how could I resist?
How would I be able to walk away, sane and whole, if he closed that gap? If he bared his soul, spilled all his secrets, how could I keep him pure? That beautiful, innocent, pristine farmboy, would only be tainted if he got that close. Too young, too naive…I would have ruined him. I still might.
I could count the number of people I have ever cared about almost as much as I care about Clark on one hand, with three digits left to spare. I would call it love, if I thought I still had the ability to feel that particular emotion. I've tried for nearly four years to keep him at arm's length. Tried for four years to let myself have the one thing I wanted even more than my father's approval. Four years of yearning, dreaming of thick, black hair, and piercing green eyes. Haunted by pouting lips that could drive angels to sin, and hands big and strong enough to catch them when they fell.
Will I ruin this perfect, flawed, creature once I have him in my arms? After he has saved me countless times since that first life-changing, life-ending…life-startingl…day on the bridge, could I take the chance that I won't destroy him? Can I really resist the chance to find out? Even a saint's patience has its limits.
How many trips to Suicide Slums have I made, finding just the right shade of green eyes, the right pair of plump lips, shoulders just broad enough, to make the endless need go away, just for a little bit? Just long enough to pretend I didn't ache every time Clark walked through my door. That I didn't want anything more than to push him down onto the leather couch in my office and despoil that paragon of perfection. Tan, dark haired men aren't too hard to find, if you know where to look, if you have the right connections, and the wallet big enough to back it up. So eager to please, to kneel, to worship the Luthor cock. But none of them, not one, close enough to his perfection to sate my hunger for his presence.
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For @leatafandom
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Happy Sneak Peak Sunday Kings & Queens! 👑 Will you join me for brunch? 😋
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I went from writing an elemental fic to a superhero fic in a matter of days. This one is due July 15 so pls someone send a rescue team on July 14 just in case
#you’ve heard of Wip Wednesday#now I raise you#Sneak Peek Sunday#taehyung is the superhero version of poison Ivy#fiy#jai talks
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Jesse twins wip !!
Rrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
#fanart#mcsm#mcsm jesse#jesse mcsm#art wip#wip#work in progress#drawing#minecraft story mode#minecraft storymode jesse#minecraft storymode#minecraft story mode fanart#trick question#how many characters are in this drawing?#wip sneak peek#wip sunday
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Sneak Peek Sunday!
Ain't done one for a while so here ya go. Major spoiler ahead but hey ho.
Technically it's Saturday but shhh
Creeping as quietly as she could towards where she could hear voices, Phoenix paused behind the door.
"I ain't gonna beg!"
Phoenix straightened as she saw the deranged Governor raise his gun towards Merle, who was laid backwards over a table and quickly fired a shot towards the brunette. The bullet ripped through the man's hand and his own bullet veered off its intended target, hitting Merle in the shoulder rather than the chest.
"Bitch!" The Governor growled, clutching his hand and ducking bullets as she fired at him; with his death the focus of her rage. The man ran and she let out a loud sigh before turning to Merle, who groaned and prodded his shoulder.
"Ya sure know how to make an exterance Firebug!" He laughed before hissing as she probed his wound. "Damn gone saved my life."
"Yea well. I owed ya one." She laughed, throwing his good arm around her shoulders and helping him to stand. "Let's get outta here before any Geeks show up yea?"
"Come on then sugar. Ain't got all day."
The pair smiled at each other and huffed their way outside, dodging the ravenous Walkers as they made their way back towards home.
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She was escorted into the inner room, the Red Guard moving to the controls of a bacta tank. A man floated inside. Well, half a man. He was missing all four limbs, only stumps remaining in their place. His skin was ashen as if it hadn’t seen any sunlight - natural or otherwise- in years, the scars leaving deep grooves in the sickly pale skin. Pieces of equipment were implanted into his chest and his throat, lights flashing, and as the bacta stirred around him, gold eyes flashing open.
Mara hadn’t realized she was staring until that moment, nor had her brain really connected this damaged creature to the powerful Darth Vader until she was driven back by the Force, slamming her into the far wall hard enough that she saw dark spots dancing against her vision. She was lifted then - all by a man hanging by a harness in a bacta tank - and she felt an invisible hand close around her throat. She struggled not to fight it, instead focusing everything she had into a single name. “Natus,” she choked out and the hold on her throat released, even if the grip holding her suspended in the air did not.
She watched from where she remained suspended as Vader was lifted from the tank by the harness, the breathing mask coming with him. As the liquid pooled on the permasteel below, Mara could see that the small grooves in his skin weren’t a trick played by air bubbles, but even further scarring. Burns, she thought. It was like he’d been burned alive. No wonder he lived in that suit. It must have been what was keeping him alive.
Green eyes followed as the harness eased him down, a medical droid moving into her line of vision to take hold and guide him to where what looked like only the torso of his suit waited for him. She watched as the droid eased him into it and then back onto a waiting table. With no warning the Force hold on her released with his distraction and she dropped unceremoniously to the floor. She could leave. Any sane person would have, but instead she continued to watch as four other droids joined, each with a mechanical limb in hand and they moved to the stumps all at once. Mara had her footing now, but nearly lost it with the onslaught of anguish that followed the reattachment of those nerves to a fully conscious patient. Finally, the helmet was put into place, shielding those terrifying Sith-gold eyes from her.
Then, all at once, the Red Guard that had escorted her in and had begun the extraction procedure fell dead, his head turned at an awkward angle. Those blacked out lenses of Vader’s mask turned towards her. “Jade,” he snarled, “what of my son?”
Mara swallowed hard, not used to having to steel her nerve like this. This was about Luke, and Luke was convinced his father loved him. Time to test that theory. “Natus has -“ She cleared her throat hard, fingers going to it after having been choked.
“Out with it,” Vader snarled.
She turned a hard glare on him, refusing to be intimidated. “Natus has been taken.”
She couldn’t see his ashy, scarred face, but she could imagine the look as fury leapt through the air like electricity.
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