#wip promotion wednesday

[nontoxic-writes]

WIP Wednesday

ive been working on my former-child-star Jake/nepo-baby-rockstar Bradley fake dating/friends-with-benefits hangster fic a lot this week and im loving where it’s going so here’s some pining idiots.

it’s late so im not gonna tag anyone, but if you have something you’re excited about, consider this your tag!

“Okay, give me the full picture. What are you wearing?” Bradley asks, his voice low in the receiver.

Jake barks out a laugh. “Not that kind of call.”

“You could still tell me,” Bradley responds, and Jake can hear the pout in his voice. He refuses to admit that it makes him smile.

He sighs. “Sweatpants and a t-shirt.”

“And how tight is the t-shirt?”

Jake grins. Fuck, he likes him so goddamn much. “Tight enough.”

“You’re so bad at this,” Bradley says with feigned exasperation. “Can we switch to FaceTime?”

Jake hesitates for a moment. “Um, can we talk first?” he asks, his fingers tapping out an erratic beat where they rest on the countertop.

Bradley is silent for a second. “…Sure.”

“It’s just… I have to talk to you about something, and I don’t want to see your face when I do it.”

“Sounds ominous,” Bradley responds, his voice flat and even.

“I got an invite to Logan Lee’s wedding.”

“Who the fuck is Logan Lee?”

“I thought you binged Baby On Board?”

“I watched your scenes.”

Jake blushes. This is why he hates FaceTiming Bradley. “Logan played my brother.”

“Which brother? Wasn’t the whole premise the big adopted family?”

“Well he wasn’t the baby, Bradley, that kid’s only like five years old now.”

“Oh, sweetheart, do I have bad news for you about the passage of time.”

Jake bites back a smile. Asshole. “Anyway, he played my ‘twin,’” Jake says, calling back the not-actually-funny-but-the-laughtrack-thought-it-was-hilarious running joke on the show, since their characters were adopted the same year.

“Oh. That one.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Anyway. The wedding is in two months. In Italy. You’re my plus one, if you want to come.”

Bradley is silent for a moment before he carefully asks, “You want me to go with you?”

“You’re named on the invitation, Bradley. And as far as everyone is concerned, we’ve been in a relationship for the last two and a half years.”

“I mean, you can tell them I’m busy, I won’t be offended if you don’t want me there. Could make photos awkward.”

Jake rolls his eyes. “I’ll have more fun with you there. But you don’t have to. I know you’re on tour—“

“Tour ends in a month,” Bradley says, cutting him off. “I’ll be there.”

Jake feels betrayed by the hopeful feeling swelling in his chest, by the grin that takes over his face, by the way he knows Bradley can hear it when he confirms with an uncertain, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now switch to FaceTime and take your pants off.”

#hangster #top gun fanfiction #tags for shameless self promotion #im so sorry #wip wednesday

[a-pale-azure-moon]

WIP Wednesday

Here's an excerpt from the next chapter of All the Little Things, which should be posted in a little less than two weeks!

The miniaturized Dimitri still hasn't emerged from under Byleth's bed. She makes another attempt to reason with him and discovers an amusing secret about him.

Byleth took a deep breath, stretched her arm under the bed, and grabbed him. As expected, he let out an angry snarl and tried to fight back, but she’d pinned his arms to his sides this time, and if she angled her wrist just so, his feet were out of range from kicking her. She held him firmly as she pulled him towards her and moved herself to sit on her bed.

“Unhand me at once!” Dimitri barked as he squirmed, his face flushed and his eye a furious blaze.

It was so hard not to smile at him, as well as to resist the urge to pet his hair or clutch him closer like he truly was a doll. She did allow herself to touch one of his dangling feet, pinching it gently between her thumb and index finger. She almost recoiled from how cold his skin was, but he immediately flinched and his whole body went stiff and still. Curious at his reaction, she gave the underside of his foot a slight rub and he made a strangled noise and emphatically tried to pull his foot free from her grip.

“Stop that!” he hissed.

Was Dimitri ticklish? Byleth couldn’t help herself; she delicately dragged the tip of her finger back and forth along the arch of his foot. He jerked and wiggled in her hold, making another strangled noise, and as she kept doing it, his breaths got more ragged and reedy until he was unmistakably laughing.

“S-s-stop! Stop!” he wheezed.

It was nice to hear his laugh again, no matter how it’d emerged. She tickled him a few seconds longer in order to savor the sound, refresh her memory of it, and then released his foot. Dimitri sagged in her hand as he fought to catch his breath, his face and ears burning in a mix of shame and anger at having been violated in such a demeaning way. The mirth he could see in her eyes only made it worse, reaffirming to him that she was enjoying his humiliation. He could practically hear her laughter joining the cacophony that was already splitting his head apart from the inside.

Look at how she revels in your disgrace. She doesn’t care about you. She never did!

“Are you finished?” he muttered. He was too embarrassed and exhausted to muster much of his usual anger, so his tone was similarly drained.

Byleth internally winced as she realized she’d gone too far. This was not the way to win back his trust. She considered using a Divine Pulse to undo it, but the change in his tone made her reconsider. Perhaps it was better to push forward and accept the consequences. “I’m sorry. Truly. I shouldn’t have done that.”

A feckless apology wasted on a monster. “If you’re done, then release me and go away.”

“I want to talk to you,” she said. “Please? It won’t take long.”

He sighed. “Fine. But put me down first.”

#my writing #shameless self promotion #wip wednesday #ATLT #dimileth #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #byleth eisner #dimitri x byleth

[blarrghe]

WIP Tuesday

@sulky-valkyrie tagged me in a WIP Wednesday today, which is excellent, because I post new chapters of The Hunter, The Snake, and the Fox on Wednesdays, which officially makes this snippet that will be in tomorrow's chapter a WIP!

And you can jump on the hype train, read the first three chapters, and see the rest tomorrow ;)

tagging @transfenris-truther to dig for Varania content, @rosella-writes @plisuu @inquisimer @k9rage and idk, anyone who likes!

--

As the evening drew on, Dorian began to smell the smoke of cooking fires, roasting meats, and fragrant spices in the air. He heard music, low drumbeats and then a chorus of voices, chanting and singing and hollering along. He paced again over to the entrance of the tent and looked out through the slight opening, peeking over the shoulders of his guards. 

They’d switched at some point, the elves standing guard in front of his tent. He tried asking these new ones about the commotion, but they proved no more friendly than the last pair. So he watched. 

He could see the fire, or at least a fire — plumes of smoke rising in the distance indicated more than one. He tried at first to do the sensible thing, to gauge how many members this clan had and how well equipped they seemed to hold him, but in short order he gave up that endeavour, and simply observed with jealousy. Food was being passed around, bowls of something steaming out of a large pot served with skewers of meat and leaf-wrapped vegetables. He watched as couples leaned into one another’s sides and children danced in circles together, barefoot and half naked on the soft pine needle covered ground. He spotted the young and beautiful Dalish leader passing out bowls with warm smiles, laughing in close conversations. 

Dorian followed him with his eyes as he worked his way around the fire. He sat on a long log and ate in the company of a young, brown-haired woman who held a baby in her arms. He talked with her for a while, smiling, making exaggerated faces for the babe and laughing along to its reactions. Then another man, instantly recognizable by his broad shoulders and golden hair, came over to their place and sat with his arm around that woman, and the Dalish leader got up. He left with kisses to the baby’s forehead and the woman’s cheek. Not his woman though, it seemed, from the way the other man watched him walk off again with disgruntlement in his brows. Interesting.

#I have got to promote this fic more lol #I am so excited about it #I think I actually forgot to make a post for the last chapter #anyway #wip wednesday #thanks for the tag!

[vikingsong]

Reforged (excerpt)

Fill for my Merlin Bingo 2024 adopted square “Aliens” 😉

Hello! For context (if you haven’t already heard me ramble about this WIP in one Discord server or another), this is the first half of Chapter 1 of a loooong and not remotely complete WIP, hence sharing it here rather than AO3 or FFN. It’s a modern-with-magic reincarnation fic.

(TW: graphic violence)

Fic summary:

Arthur Rhydderch had spent years trying to ‘find his calling,’ as his thesis advisor described it. This wasn’t quite what I had in mind, the reincarnated Once and Future King thought as he gave his sword a twirl and launched himself at the alien before it could breathe another blistering spurt of flames.

Up-and-coming paleontologist Dr. Merlin Emrys had thought he was adulting quite well; most days, he even managed to avoid getting yelled at by his landlady. Then secrets from his past life resurfaced, and everything fell apart. Facing an impossible choice, Merlin must come to terms with who he was, who he is, and—most importantly—who he wants to become.

Or:

When Albion’s greatest need arrives in the form of an alien invasion, the reincarnated figures of legend must deal with the consequences of their shared past even as they fight for humanity’s future.

Chapter 1 (excerpt):

Arthur was in the library when the world ended. It was barely 10:00 AM on a Tuesday, and it was shaping up to be one of the worst days of his life even before the sky rained fire.

Six hours ago, Arthur had shaken off the claws of a nightmare for the third night in barely a week. Running, always running, with watering eyes and screaming lungs as the soot threatened to choke him. Four hours ago, he’d paused in the middle of his training run through the city to sit on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and watch with bleary eyes as the pale dawn crept up from the horizon, silhouetting Capitol Hill against the clear autumn sky. His t-shirt stuck to his skin as his sweat cooled. Blood and sweat mingling, trickling down his back as he twisted away from vicious claws that slashed his shoulder from behind. The fresh air hadn’t banished the phantom tang of acrid smoke, so he’d dragged himself home and attempted to drown the taste with a fourth cup of caustically strong coffee, nearly scalding his tongue in his haste. Burns blistering on his forearms as he gripped the sword hilt with white knuckles while hissing creatures stalked him from the shadows. The shifting shadows had still dogged his thoughts as he’d headed to an early one-to-one meeting with the head coach of his college soccer team.

Three hours ago, his coach had informed him, not unkindly, that he wouldn’t be nominating Arthur for the pro soccer draft at the end of the semester, despite Arthur being co-captain and the best on the team. Arthur understood his coach’s reasoning, but it did nothing to ease the sting. The prevailing industry view was that most players peaked in their mid-twenties, and Arthur was already twenty-six. His American uni scholarship had already been his fallback option, a new route to the same professional goal after he’d aged out of Manchester United’s football training academy without a pro contract at twenty-three. Now, the coveted draft slot would go to a younger player—a domestic player who wouldn’t have to deal with visa complexities—and Arthur would simply have to find another calling.

Two hours ago, Arthur’s thesis advisor—never particularly interested in Arthur’s athletic goals—had inadvertently poured salt in that raw wound by asking, as he did at least once a semester, if Arthur had “found his calling” yet.

Arthur’s self-control had slipped, and he’d answered bluntly, “If it’s a calling, then it needs to make itself heard.”

Dr. Taliesin had simply sighed and said, “Someday you will know your destiny.” Then he’d asked to see the latest draft of Arthur’s senior thesis and proceeded to spend the remaining twenty minutes of their meeting eviscerating it.

One hour ago, Arthur had clocked in for his work-study shift at the campus library. The students who’d pulled all-nighters on midterm assignments had all gone to bed or to class by the time Arthur arrived, and it hadn’t taken him long to reshelve the trail of reference texts they’d left in their wake.

Thirty minutes ago, he’d settled at the circulation desk with a stack of books which Dr. Taliesin had just recommended. Arthur had tried—and failed—to concentrate on his thesis research instead of his imploded career plan, even as he’d tried—and failed—to ignore how the silence amplified the harrowing echoes of his nightmares.

Fifteen minutes ago, Arthur had scrubbed a hand over his itchy stubble, regretting that he’d forgotten to shave in his distracted state that morning. His neck had popped audibly in the quiet lobby as he’d stretched and had given up on his thesis research for the moment. Having concluded that he needed to distract himself from anything having to do with his future, he’d pushed aside the heavy books and pulled out the latest reading assignment for his Medieval Lit elective.

One minute ago, Arthur had realized that he’d been staring blankly at the same Middle English paragraph for several minutes. He’d given up on studying altogether and gathered up his reference books to shelve. When he’d stood, his rolling chair had skittered sideways out of his reach. He’d been ready to chalk it up to caffeine tremors and jittery nerves when he’d heard the lobby’s floor-to-ceiling windows rattle.

That was when he’d glanced up and discovered that the world was ending.

He blinked—once, twice—and craned his neck to get a better look. Well, his tired brain amended as it struggled to process the latest milestone in his terrible day, perhaps ‘ending’ is too strong a word. Maybe just the ‘start’ of the apocalypse?

Semantics aside, the sky was raining fire.

The ground shook as each flaming meteorite crashed, one after another after another. One hurtled toward the window, and the prospect of his impending fiery death finally jolted Arthur into action. He dropped the books and dove behind the circulation desk, throwing up an arm to shield his face as the glass shattered and the fireball barreled through.

Over the greedy crackle of flames as a row of study cubicles caught fire, Arthur heard an unnatural hissing. It grated across his nerves like nails on a chalkboard. He peeked around the edge of the circulation desk and froze.

Am I dreaming?

From within the smoldering wreckage of the thing that hadn’t been a meteorite, a creature emerged—a creature unlike anything Arthur had ever seen. The firelight glinted off its burnished scales as it unfurled leathery wings like a monstrous bird hatching from a cursed egg, like a cassowary made of fire and brimstone. The creature fixed its glowing red eyes on him and uttered a shrieking hiss.

Arthur knew that sound.

So that’s what they look like, he thought, half-hysterical. He ducked back behind the desk, even though he knew it was too late to hide. The beast had seen him, and just like he knew that horrible cry, he knew that thing would hunt him down. He heard the creature flap once, and then a spurt of flames shot past the edge of the circulation desk where his face had been moments before. The industrial carpet melted.

Arthur’s instincts took over. One. There was no hope of getting out through the burning front entrance, so he scrambled away from the flames and ran the length of the circulation desk, staying low as another fiery blast raced over his head and immolated an oil painting on the wall above him. Two. Just like in his nightmares, he counted, and just like in his nightmares, he had no idea why. He reached the end of the circulation desk and made a run for it across an exposed stretch of the lobby, dodging more fireballs—Three. Four.—as the creature chased him toward the winding, windowless corridors that formed the only route to the back exit.

He skidded into the corridor and ricocheted off the wall as he took the first turn at full speed. Another volley of flames hit the wall just after he’d turned the corner; he felt the heat at his back as he continued his flight. Five. The fire alarm kicked in, and the reverberating noise in the corridors nearly drowned out the creature’s shrieks and hisses. After several more turns and another near miss with a fireball—Six.—that left one sleeve of his red hoodie singed, Arthur hit a dead end.

He cursed colorfully under his breath as he realized he’d taken a wrong turn on autopilot; he’d been so focused on dodging fireballs that he’d turned left instead of right at the special collections display case. He’d reached the central elevator’s windowless alcove rather than the exit. The elevator was out of service, he’d already passed the nearest stairwell, and he didn’t have time to retrace his steps to the turn he’d missed. He heard a crash followed by scuffling as the creature—the alien, his brain so helpfully supplied—slammed into the display case before approaching the final turn. I’ve got thirty seconds at best. Arthur backed away from the sound, wracking his brain for any remaining options. His shoulder bumped into something sharp; he glanced back and saw it was the corner of a wall-mounted display case containing a medieval-style sword from the university’s eclectic collection of artifacts. On the lower right corner of the plate glass front, a snarky student had added a sticky note that read:

In case of emergency, break glass :)

What have I got to lose? he thought, glancing around. There were no fire extinguishers—Ironic, he lamented—nor any other heavy objects in the alcove to break the glass. Out of time and options, he raised his hood for protection like a knight’s coif and shielded his face with his right arm before slamming his left elbow into the glass as hard as he could. It cracked but didn’t shatter.

The hissing grew louder. Ignoring the pain in his arm, Arthur struck the case a second time, and then a third.

Razor-sharp shards grazed Arthur’s hoodie as the glass shattered and spilled out onto the floor. As the security alarm blared in concert with the fire alarm, he reached into the case and drew out the sword.

It felt strangely comfortable in his hand. Not quite like the sword in his dreams, but familiar all the same. He gave it a quick twirl with his wrist, then faced the hallway just as the alien appeared.

It stalked toward him on all fours with its folded, bat-like wings curving up from its clawed forefeet; the barbed tips met in a sharp arch over its back like crossed lance poles. Its glowing red eyes were nearly level with Arthur’s as it paused, tilting its large, draconic head side to side on its long neck as though sizing up the sword in Arthur’s hand.

Arthur stood his ground. Not like I have anywhere left to run, he thought as he tightened his grip on the sword. Might as well go out fighting.

The alien hissed, and smoke curled out through its nostrils. It opened its jaw wide and coughed out a sulfurous black cloud. Arthur gagged as his eyes watered. The alien hacked again like a chain smoker, but no flames burst forth.

Arthur saw his window and took it. Just like on the footie pitch, he feinted left, then spun to the right. With a screech, the alien fell for the trick and lunged, leaving its neck vulnerable to Arthur’s attack. Arthur used the momentum of his spin to throw his full weight into his one shot at survival, bringing the blade down squarely on the creature’s neck.

The steel sliced clean through sinew and bone, and the creature’s head hit the ground mid-snarl. Arthur dodged the body’s writhing death throes and vaulted over the convulsing tail as he raced back down the corridor toward the exit. He slipped more than once on the wet linoleum—the emergency sprinklers had finally activated—before he stumbled out through the back exit into the deserted alley, soaked and bleeding, still clutching the sword.

#merlin bingo #bingo fill #alien invasion #aliens & swords #bbc merlin #fanfic #wip #shameless self promotion #my stories #writing #angst with a happy ending #wip wednesday #aliens #fic: reforged

[merge-conflict]

“I’d like to keep this civilized.” Birdy was annoyed, voice pitched low enough that it was just audible. It was a mild evening for early spring, and there were plenty of others taking advantage of the weather to enjoy a little rooftop dining and the cheapest happy hour in the block. Comfortably public, with clientele that was unlikely to be too observant.

V tilted her head slightly to the side. She couldn’t relax the stiffness out of her shoulders or spine, but she maintained her blank expression. “Am I not being civilized?”

Birdy’s mouth tightened in anger, and she dug around in her purse until she found the slim cigarette case she normally tucked away in a hidden pocket. “You haven’t said anything for twenty minutes.”

“Apologies, director,” V said, blandly. “What would you like me to say?”

“Very funny.” Birdy lit up a cigarette, staining the filter with her dark lipstick, which she’d just finished touching up. Her fingers moved with grace and precision, snapping the case closed and slipping it back in the bag. “Whatever you’re planning, it’s not going to work. There’s no point in embarrassing yourself.”

V made a brief conciliatory gesture with one hand, and did not reply. There was no point in embarrassing herself.

#blind spots #wip wednesday #when the love of your life got a promotion and is publicly dumping you and is upset that you're not reacting #even though the whole point of being in public is to prevent you from reacting #still need a ship name for these two #oh that's easy isn't it #ship: hand in unlovable hand

[deiliamedlini]

WIP Wednesday

Trying to make the Champions in Wind Waker style!

ALSO SHAMELESSLY PROMOTING OUR NEW DISCORD SINCE THAT’S ALSO A WIP! IT’S ONLY A FEW DAYS OLD BUT WE’RE ALREADY HAVING FUN SO JOIN US STANNING CHARACTERS AND SHIPPING IS OPTIONAL BUT THOSE CHANNELS ARE ALSO AVAILABLE!! So Zelinkers, I see you, there’s a space for us hahahaha!! Only caveat is that you have to be 18+!

#wip wednesday #champions #discord #discord server #legend of zelda #link #zelda #loz #writing #breath of the wild #mipha #urbosa #revali #daruk #yunobo #sidon #teba #riju #shipping optional #shameless promotion #the wind waker

[justpassingbii]

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 501

Fandom: One Piece

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Trafalgar D. Water Law/Reader

Characters: Trafalgar D. Water Law, Reader

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ear Piercings, Swearing

Summary:

(Y/N) is getting her ear pierced at home and Law is helping her. He kisses her to try to distract her. Keyword: try

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #reader insert #oc #trafalgar d law x reader #they kiss once #he thought it might help as pain relief #ao3 fanfic #alternate universe - modern setting #mild swearing #its how oc deals with the pain of getting her ear pierced #its wip wednesday but I have finished works to advertise before I start ranting about my wips #i wanna make friends #a bit shorter than my usual works #I promise I usually write them around at least 800 words long #promoting my fics part 2

[vespertine-legacy]

Tagged for WIP Wednesday by @jbnonsensework 💜

uhhhhh tagging people to play along makes me feel ill, because what if you’ve already been tagged? what if me tagging you is annoying? 😭 so if you see this and you have a WIP of any kind you want to share, consider yourself tagged by me

I don’t really have a lot of WIPs that I’m actively working on right now, so I had to dig through my WIP folder a bit to find one that I might be inclined to dust off and. you know. actually work on one of these days.

Have a bit of beyond-AU (it’s like. at least four layers of AU piled into one) with my little feral raccoon of a blueberry Agent:

—

“Cipher! I don’t care what she is to you, if you even try to leave, I will personally destroy you,” Zhorrid’s voice goes shrill, a hand closes claw-like around Raz’s arm, and Raz can hear the crackle of electricity in Zhorrid’s other palm, curled and ready to strike.

Raz does not think, she just moves. Whirling in the Sith’s grip, Raz swings her hand back and slaps Zhorrid across the face as hard as she can, the memory of Zhorrid’s palm striking her own face years before ringing through her skin. The prickling sting in her hand is not as strong as it had been in her cheek at the receiving end of a slap; but the sound is still the same, and Zhorrid’s appalled gasp in the emptiness after the impact warms her unexpectedly. Fully expecting the impact of the lightning still sparking in Zhorrid’s hand, Raz steps back and tries not to look like she’s bracing herself.

“It’s Keeper,” Raz says acidly, when the strike doesn’t come. “You saw to that, remember? And there is nothing you could do to me that would be worse than what I’ve already been through.”

Zhorrid blinks at Raz, wide-eyed, almost looking amused, aside from the angry red welt rising in her cheek.

“And when I walk away from you, you’re not going to attack me. Because I deserve better than that, and you know it.” Raz swallows the urge to gesture in Zhorrid’s face to drive her point home. You’ve won, now get out while you’re ahead, she tells herself.

Turning sharply on her heel, Raz marches out of Zhorrid’s chambers, keeping her head high and her bearing straight as she crosses the atrium of the Sanctum. The walk back to Intelligence has never felt so long, nor the suspended path so high above the street below. Passing the guards at the entrance to Intelligence Headquarters, nodding curtly at a passing Fixer, Raz heads straight for the shelter of her office, making it only as far as the doorway before falling to her knees and retching into a potted plant. The cleaning droids will not appreciate that.

#wip wednesday #au level 1: zhorrid lives (and continues to be a thorn in everyone’s side) #au level 2: watcher x is still relevant (and is space!hannibal lecter) #au level 3: raz is promoted to keeper post-ziost instead of what…? onslaught? #au level 4: shara is force sensitive (but it’s okay she had it severed as a child) #au level 5: sike! shara had a force breakthrough under torture (did I say torture? I meant deconditioning) and is the outlander #anyway this was like the… third? time raz got called a feral raccoon by a friend helping me word #swtor oc raz #I hope the readmore worked since I’m on mobile #if not I apologize!

[nontoxic-writes]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

thank you for the tag @welcometololaland!! i am once again a day late but in my defense i went to a concert last night and didn’t get a chance to even look at my wips until now

this is from a different wip than the one ive been sharing, in this one, bradley goes missing while on a mission and jake starts fixing up bradley’s house in an effort to keep busy while they wait for news. it’s currently 27k and completely unedited so it’ll be a while until it sees the light of day, but i hope to finish it soon!

Jake looks out at the garden from the back porch, and notices the way the late afternoon sun catches on the droplets of water still clinging to the tomatoes, the way the bees buzz around the lavender and how the leaves shift with the wind. The garden feels so alive, so real, that for a moment, Jake is convinced he can hear Bradley’s rough, sleep-addled voice from the doorway behind him, quietly asking if Jake made enough coffee for two, even though he knew Jake always made enough coffee for two, because Jake loves the way Bradley’s eyes light up when he wraps his hands around the warm mug.

Jake bites the inside of his cheek at the memory. He and Bradley might not be anything, but Bradley is a good person. A better person than Jake deserves, in whatever capacity Bradley deigns to have him.

And Jake misses him.

He misses that stupid mustache and the hideous shirts and the way Bradley would leave them unbuttoned to show off the one-size-too-small tank top he always wore underneath. He misses Bradley’s wide grin, the way he would laugh when he was with their friends, loud and boisterous and unapologetic about how much space it takes up. He misses how Bradley cuddles after sex, how he’d always pull Jake into his arms and snore like a freight train into his ear. How he wouldn’t let Jake leave, would force him to spend the night so he could make them breakfast in the morning. He misses their subtle foreplay, the games played leaning over a pool table, or the way they always sat next to each other on movie nights, arms brushing gently, teasingly, until Jake felt like he was going to explode from wanting him so bad.

He misses how Bradley listens to him, the few times Jake has allowed himself to be cracked open, how he’d carded his hands through Jake’s hair and let him tell the entire sad story of his relationship with his father.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jake had said, after, with one of Bradley’s hands gently tangled in his hair and the other wrapped tight around his waist. “I can’t believe I’m bitching so much about this. At least he’s alive.”

Bradley snorted. “Not sure that’s a positive in this situation, sweetheart.” He pressed a firm kiss to Jake’s neck, right below his ear. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Jake presses the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Hell of a time to realize he’s in love with the guy.

Considering Bradley is probably dead.

its now late on thursday so i wont make anyone do this haha but @welcometololaland im lobbing this one right back at you for next week lol

#i really need to start thinking of titles for these so i can tag them properly #and as always using the #hangster #tag as shameless self promotion #wip wednesday

[a-pale-azure-moon]

Talk shop tuesday 😊 Are you currently working on anything??

Funny you should ask because I was actually planning on making a post about my next project today! I'm guessing that it's probably a three or four part story, nothing too long and involved, but bulkier than a typical one-shot (especially with my verbose standards). No promises on the time table, but I'm hoping to have the first part out sometime in mid-March!

As for what it's about, this one's set in the canon verse, specifically right after chapter 14 of Azure Moon. Dimitri's on the receiving end of a magical accident, one that renders him incapable of fighting, and Byleth takes it upon herself to care for him until he's cured. Since he's firmly in his feral mode at this point, he's naturally not very cooperative...at first.

Teaser under the cut!

“Gilbert and I agree that we can’t let anyone outside of our circle know what’s happened to you,” Byleth said. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach as she forced herself to continue. “It’ll be easier to hide you if you stay with one of us. You’ll be safer that way too.” She swallowed. “...I volunteered.”

Dimitri bristled. The idea of having to constantly be in the presence of another person had been intolerable before and now it was outright nauseating. Monsters did not belong with people. “I have no need or wish for your so-called ‘protection,’ Professor.”

She frowned, trying to ignore how her nervousness gave way to hurt. “It doesn’t have to be me, but someone has to look out for you until you’re cured. It’s not up for debate.”

He growled under his breath. Deep down he knew she was right but that didn’t mean he didn’t still hate that she was right. This powerlessness was unbearable and he was going to be stuck this way for Goddess only knew how long. It felt like something deep in his gut was about to explode and he needed an outlet, but he couldn’t even pick up his lance and do so much as stab a training dummy.

“...Do as you please,” he grumbled.

#my writing #shameless self promotion #dimileth #dimitri x byleth #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #byleth eisner #wip wednesday #ATLT #ask game #dpsisquared #talk shop tuesday

[krys-loves-otome]

3, 4, 9, 10, 49 for the ask game! ❤️

Questions for Fic Writers!

3) What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

It has been pointed out before that people like how I depict intimacy in my art and I think it shows through in my fics too. I tend to be somewhat sparse on details, but I think that helps it to focus in on closer moments to make them feel more special and important.

4) What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

Going on something that was written pretty recently, I like the family dynamics in Name. Basically, Leon is telling the story behind his daughter's name to her and a mostly kid friendly version of how he got his name and how he got to be the Fourth Prince. Also love the fact that both Leon and Emma help foster their daughter's curiosity in identity and how supportive they are if she wants to change her name and whatnot. Baby girl also pulls no punches in her reading ability over her father's. She's merciless.

9) How do you find new fic to read?

Looking at the summary and seeing if it's something I'm interested in. Nothing can draw me in like a good summary. The entire fic but tiny has helped me discover stuff I didn't think I would be interested in at first, so story but tiny really helps for me.

10) How do you decide what to write?

Answered here!

49) What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

My IkeSen long fic Second Glance's part 4 is about 95% done, so I'm hoping to get it out by the end of the year. I have posted some WIP Wednesdays about it previously, so I'll go with a small part that I haven't posted yet:

You turned towards him, his nose and cheeks red from the cold, sure to be matching your own, much to Hideyoshi's dismay.

Before he could climb to your side, however, you leaned towards him, touching your dry and cold-chapped lips together with his. The tobacco scent still lingered on him, you noticed.

Hideyoshi froze, eyes wide open in surprise. When you pulled back for air, though his cheeks were warmer, his eyes, once again, filled with sadness. He let out a breath.

"Inside, [Name]," he left no room for argument. "Now."

#meme thingys #krys's talks #krys's adventures in fanfiction #this is also not me trying to subtly promote name because it hasn't gotten many notes on either tumbly or ao3 and it makes me sad #speaking of ao3 #might be the ao3 snob in me but when also looking for stuff to read #wall'o tags is a big turn off #especially when not relevant to the story at hand #not a fan of putting all the fics into one big fic #either #rather have them put in a series or in a collection so I know which tags go to which story #plus the added benefit of more kudos instead of just one and done on the multi fic fic #but yeah the biggest factor for reading for me is the summary #fic but tiny always is more intriguing #tis what I read first before I look at any ratings or tags #love me a story but tiny #also looking at the first wip wednesday for second glance pt 4 made me realize how far this particular draft has come #some parts are so different now #povs have changed #character scenes have changed #whoops

[bookishbrigitta]

“See, this is why me and Leia didn’t send our kids to Jedi school,” he said with a smirk. “Or any religious school. Those kids repress shit, and it comes out sideways like this.”

Talk Dirty is one of my crackiest fics for sure, but also has some of my proudest one-liners.

Han watched as a Rodian and a Mon Cal began a sexually explicit square dance to a boppy, yet twangy, club tune that used the Kashyyyk logging industry as a thinly-veiled euphemism. 

Luke tensed, balling his hands into fists. “Han, if you don’t shut your mouth right now, I’ll put you back in carbonite. I’ll do it. I’ll find a way.”

#fanfiction #star wars #how do i even tag this #there's wip wednesday sooo #Self Promotion With the Confidence of Thor Th(o)ursday? #my fics #han solo #luke skywalker #poor naive luke skywalker #ben skywalker #the mortifying ordeal of hearing your adult child talk about sex #the gratifying ordeal of teasing your wizard brother-in-law #i just needed a laugh today

[vikingsong]

WIP Wednesday (10/18/23)

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Look, are you just trying to get out of trouble? Because it’s just the stocks. Being late with breakfast is, regrettably, not a capital offense.”

#wip wednesday #Fic: Bogged Down in Lies (I Want To Come Clean) #fanfic #humor #bbc merlin #shameless self promotion #writing #wip #wip excerpt

[h-i-raeth]

the sum of our parts for wip wed please?

(From WIP Wednesday)(On AO3 here)

“You’ll get yourself killed.”

He’ll probably get worse than that.

“I don’t have a choice, Kevin.”

“You could stay.”

“It’s not a good idea.” Even if everything Wymack had said was true and the Moriyamas don’t know exactly where Kevin is, it’s still too much scrutiny.

#wip wednesday #the sum of our parts #getting close to the end of this chapter maybe #which would mean an update for both it and time and hearts #so probably I'll update those tomorrow or the day after #once I finish Time and Hearts (Sum is going to be long enough that that one will finish first) #Shadow will probably be promoted to active WIP alongside Sum #with Trapped as the new main supplemental

[feral-renaissance-cat]

Okay, time for me to participate in WIP Wednesdays, both to shamelessly self promote my work and also kick myself in the butt to actually work on those projects. Rules say I have to post the filenames of up to five things I’ve written for in the past week, so only two WsIP qualify this week, but I’ll do this again next week with (hopefully) more options. In the meantime, here are my two current projects you can ask for snippets from:

- Butterfly’s Kiss (original characters)

- This Assassination Attempt Could Have Gone Better (LuciBren Critical Role fanfic)

So go ahead, send me an ask if you want a sneak peek at either of these. I’m looking forward to this because I’m very excited about both of them. ^^

#wip wednesday #shameless self promotion #ask me stuff #my work

[sarahlizziewrites]

Writeblr for newbies

So you joined Tumblr to talk about your writing. Maybe you're published and you want to promote your works, or maybe you're wanting a supportive community of fellow writers, or maybe you're just writing for the hell of it and want to show the world your blorbos.

Welcome!!

Being a part of the writing side of Tumblr is a little bit like being in kindergarten and all the kids are talking about their imaginary friends to each other. Except some of the kids have published stories about their imaginary friends in real books you can buy. It's so cool.

I have made some wonderful friends on Writeblr, I've ARC'd and beta'd books for people, and I've gotten a lot of warm fuzzies from sharing my snippets and my characters. It's somewhere between self-promo and group therapy, but it doesn't feel like either. It feels like a wonderful community of writers supporting each other.

The Writeblr lingo can seem a little intense at first so I thought I'd set up a guide. If I've missed anything lmk!

WIP - stands for 'work in progress' (plural: WIPs). Any piece of writing (or poetry, or any kind of art) that isn't completed yet. This might be the first draft of a story, or the nth draft of your novel, or the not-yet-posted chapter of the fanfiction you're writing. WIP is a state of mind: it might be nearly complete, or it might just be an idea with a few hundred words attached to it. Talk about it as much or as little as you want.

WIP intro - a totally optional (and honestly a lot of hard work sometimes lol) post explaining the main themes/background/plot/characters of your WIP. Something you can link people to so they good a good idea of your WIP and what it's about. Similarly, character intro, for individual characters within a WIP, often with art/picrews.

Tag game - the lifeblood of Writeblr! In its most basic form, someone tags you in a game, you play the game, then tag other people you want to play the game. Lots of people do 'open tags', which you can also pick up. These games can range from making picrews of your characters to posting a snippet or multiple snippets. A few common ones at the moment (these change often!) are: Find the Word (the tagger gives you words to find in your WIP, you post a short snippet for each word, then give the people you tag new words to find); Last Line (you post the last line(ish) you wrote, or wrote recently); 9 Lines 9 People (post 9(ish) recent lines, tag 9(ish) people). There are so many more, and new ones being created all the time.

Blorbo - your OC (original character) that lives in your mind rent-free. The one(s) you would commit war crimes for. You know the one I'm talking about. In addition, blorbo trading and sharing is encouraged in the Writeblr community.

Ask game - a post that you reblog, usually containing a list of prompts or questions, that encourages your followers to ask those questions in your ask box. It is friendly to drop an ask from the game to the person you reblogged the post from.

Weekly asks - if you've asked to take part, questions about your writing in your inbox, related to a certain day of the week. There's Worldbuilding Wednesday (WBW), which are questions about worldbuilding, Blorbo Blursday (OC questions), and Storyteller Saturday (STS), questions about writing in general. These questions can be very generic and vague, or can be about specific characters/stories.

Pinned Post - basically, an 'about' page. Talk about yourself, your WIPs, the kinds of things you like, whether you want to be involved in Writeblr games, whether your asks are open. You don't need one, but it can be a handy reference point for your followers.

Taglist - sometimes, Tumblr posts get lost on the dash. If you are interested in a particular WIP, ask the author if you can be put on their taglist, so you can get notified every time they post about it. They will love you for it, seriously!

Overall, on Writeblr, it is always encouraged:

to talk about your stories and characters as much as you like. People might not follow along at first, but they'll get on board!

to reblog others' writing/snippets/promo. We're all relying on each other for our sanity here, and a nice comment in the tags never goes amiss either!

I'm sure I've missed something - feel free to add!

#writing #writers #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writer community #writers on tumblr #long post