WIP Music Monday

Hey everybody!!! I was tagged by @cloudofbutterflies92, @voidika, and @simplegenius042 to share the music that has been inspiring my wips. Thank you for tagging me!

Tagging (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @alexxmason, @captmactavish, @amalkavian, @carlosoliveiraa, @clicheantagonist, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @nightbloodbix, @theelderhazelnut, @direwombat, @captastra, @cassietrn, @strangefable, @katsigian, @inafieldofdaisies, @onehornedbeast and anyone else who wants to do this!

Too Close/Too Late is the one song I have on repeat while working on Rooney's first real conversation with Yorinobu and the fic about their family in their CP2077 universe. It's also one of the songs I've started to closely associate with Rooney, appearing on both their character and ship playlist. To me, this songs represents the dilemma that Rooney faces after their death and subsequent revival. Can you go back to who you used to be? Can you be that same person? Or are you now someone else? And if you keep trying to go back, keep dwelling on the past, are you doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over? (Also sorry, I'm just gonna post the whole song lyrics since they fit.)

I feel alive again Started with the fear of falling Into an hourglass Voices in the void are calling Wrap me in your arms Waterfalls, endless as they drag me down into the dark Of it all, can your heaven help me? Is this the end or is this the beginning? There are stranger things I've learned on the outside Separated by an open door I find it hard to reach the end of my timeline Salivating 'cause I wanted more Is this the end or is this the beginning? Am I allowed again To call out what I need to hear? To be a conduit Conditioned by the fear of fear? Wrap me in your arms (Waterfalls, endless as they drag me) Down into the dark (Of it all, can your heaven help me?) Is this what you want me to be? Perfect and clean Float on a temporary Empire built in a day To throw it away And now I can tell you, there are Stranger things I've learned on the outside Separated by an open door I find it hard to reach the end of my timeline Salivating 'cause I wanted more Is this the end or is this the beginning? I know where I wanna go But it's too close And it's too late this time I know where I wanna go But it's too close And it's too late this time There are stranger things I've learned on the outside Separated by an open door I find it hard to reach the end of my timeline Salivating 'cause I wanted more Is this the end or is this the beginning? Ooh-ooh, is this the end or is this the beginning? Ooh-ooh, is this the end or is this the beginning?

While I've been taking a break from the heavier stuff, I've also been working on some oneshots for Rooney and Yorinobu. This one takes place a few weeks after Rooney and Yorinobu meet each other again, and they've taken the relic case to protect V. Despite the distance between the two, Rooney and Yorinobu still deeply care for each other and this oneshot is a reflection of that.

Your soul is the fuel to my insanity There's no one who can do what you do to me 'Cause you'll be by my side when they turn of the lights And a thousand eyes close and call it a night Our lives burn bright Before your eyes Our lives burn bright Before your eyes When the winds bring me along From the place that I call home I want you to know, wherever I go I'll be forever yours When the lights begin to fade You will always keep me awake I want you to know, wherever I go I'll be forever yours

Again, another song related to a oneshot of a spicier nature. This is more of a vibe-based pick, but I think the following lyrics feel apt:

We feel so good, it's almost frightening Let's try again I don't deserve you, you're a diamond Meet me there where it never closes Meet me there where it's never hopeless All is fair in love, oh-oh-oh-oh Honey, are you coming?

Seven (+) Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the super lovely @prosperdemeter2 @gayedmundodiaz @lemonzestywrites @rainbow-nerdss @devirnis @cal-daisies-and-briars @buddierights @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @dangerpronebuddie @daffi-990 @tizniz @try-set-me-on-fire and @rogerzsteven Thank so much! Go check out all their snippets and works!

Well would ya'll look at that... I'm actually participating in a tag day with an actual wip and not a coda. Whoa. And even better... Its an NFL Buck snippet! WOOOOO! Want to see more NFL Buck? Please check it all out here!

"So." Karen begins, pulling Hen's attention from the book she's been trying to read for the past week. She quirks an eyebrow at her wife, "So?" "So my boss's son's, partner broke their leg Tuesday after tripping over their 15 year old terrier." Karen explains and Hen can't help but look back towards where Paisley is lounging on the arm chair (Hen's favorite seat that she has lost to that sassy fur ball) with worry. Her wife chuckles reading Hen's internal concern, "Babe, Paisley is as pure bred as they come. We'll be lucky if she makes it to 10." "That pure bred survived an earthquake and a collapsed building. I wouldn't put it past her to make it way past 10 out of spite alone.” Hen remarks, turning back to Karen. Karen rolls her eyes, but gets back on topic, "Anyway. Harris, that's the partner, got their hands on some passes to that super exclusive gay club, The Green Carnation for this Friday." "You mean the place that runs a background check rivaling the FBI, makes every patron sign NDA's, and will blacklist a person from every gay bar from here to Vegas if they break said NDA? The place that is rumored to host not only out celebrities, but also the deeply closeted, tilt the world on it's axis if they ever came out, big names? That gay club?" Hen questions, her excitement starting to rise. Her very sexy and somehow very connected wife smirks, "The very one. And poor Harris just can't fathom trying to hop around on one leg and not drink thanks to their newly acquired pain meds. So they had their partner-" "Your boss's son." Hen remembers, leaning towards Karen, who instinctually gets closer as well. "Karson, with a K, starts to asks around his dads work because you know, we're literal rocket scientist working on very classified information." "Who better to invite to a secret club than those who work on secret projects." "Exactly." Karen's smirk becomes wicked (and very sinful), "And wouldn't you know, the only non-straight and married person around is yours truly." Hen honest to go squeals, loud and bubbling with elation, "You got us passes to The Green Carnation?!" "With a pre-paid drink package. All we have to do is agree to the background check and sign the NDA." Karen replies with a broad grin. Hen can no longer hold herself back and practically tackles her wife with a teeth clattering kiss. Karen, as always, catches her and kisses back 110%. ("So, my 48 off falls on the weekend." Eddie states and he takes notice of Buck's sly grin forming, his boyfriend most likely on the same train of thought, "And since it's still your bye week..." "You want to dance the night away with other secret gays." Evan finishes. Eddie smirks, "And get a private room blow job." The quarterback's smile is almost feral like, "I'll make the reservation." And Eddie watches Buck tap on the contact Florists with the green clover next to it. The phone rings twice before a deep voice comes through the speaker, "State your member id." "Buckley, 201-09-18." "Diaz, 201-09-19." A quick moment of silence, then, "What can The Green Carnation do for you today Mr. Buckley and Mr. Diaz?")

Hmm... Is a certain run in going to happen???? We'll see!!! Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @hippolotamus @theotherbuckley @watchyourbuck @perfectlysunny02 @aroeddiediaz @loserdiaz @diazsdimples @jesuisici33 @fortheloveofbuddie @evanbegins @buck-coded @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @sunshinediaz @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @goforkinard @bekkachaos @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @eddiiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @thebloomingheather @bigfootsmom

wip wednesday

tagged by @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @tizniz @diazsdimples @buddieswhvre @disasterbuckdiaz @dangerpronebuddie 💖💖💖

more of the cheating fic bc I said this is my main focus rn and it is haha (I might have something different for friday tho 🙈) I hope I'll finish this scene before I post all of it in snippets lol the convo just keeps going and going istg haha

prev snippet

___

 “What are you doing here so early? After last night, I thought you two would be dead to the world the whole day.” she teases, then goes to get a cup of coffee.

“Hey, Karen.” Buck responds quietly, not answering the question. Hen does it for him.

“Buck’s having a crisis. He slept with Eddie.” Hen says, and Karen turns towards them, eyes wide, but then the surprise turns into a smile.

“Well, finally.” she chuckles, reaching into the cupboard for a mug. “I thought it’d take them decades to figure it out.” she pauses, then frowns, turning towards Buck again. And he chooses to ignore that comment, because what the hell did she even mean? “Wait, what happened with you and Taylor? When did you guys break up? Did I miss some 118 gossip?” she asks, shooting her wife a questioning look.

“No, you didn’t, they’re still together..” Hen responds, scrutinizing gaze not leaving Buck. “He cheated on her.”

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @fortheloveofbuddie @911-on-abc @daffi-990 @jesuisici33

Fuck it Friday & Inspiration Saturday

it’s Saturday for me so I’m smooshing the two together.

Tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @lover-of-mine @disasterbuckdiaz @devirnis @spotsandsocks @callmenewbie -> tagging you all right back for inspiration Saturday 😘

Okay so I’m back from holidays and the writing beans did visit me (yay!) … but did they visit for any of my current wips? Haha of course not 🤪. Being near the beach inspired a new buddie wip that is going to be part of a series called Daylight, inspired by the Taylor Swift song of the same name. I already have some stuff written for two more fics in the series too haha.

Here’s a moodboard for the series and a little snippet from the first fic, I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night (now I’m wide awake).

Quick summary -> musician Buck is tired of the fame, fortune and loneliness of a life that doesn’t even feel like his own, so he packs his bags and runs away and ends up in the small beachside town of Hartlan Shore where he may just find everything he’s been longing for.

“What are you playing?”

Buck’s fingers pause in their strumming, his left hand sliding along the neck of the guitar as he abandons the chords he was playing. He opens his eyes to find a kid, no more than 8 years old with curly brown hair and wide inquisitive blue eyes framed by red rimmed glasses standing before him.

Buck squints his eyes against the morning sun. “Uh, nothing really, just playing random chords hoping it’ll turn into something.”

The kid moves on shaky legs to drop down in the sand on Buck’s right hand side. “I want to learn to play the guitar, but my Dad says no one in town is offering lessons.”

Buck frowns in sympathy for the kid. He remembers being a kid in Hershey and begging his parents for guitar lessons. He still doesn’t know why they turned him down at first, leaving him to seek out lessons from the school music teacher, Mr Glover, every Thursday at recess. It wasn’t until Mr Glover flagged his parents down at the one parent teacher night they actually managed to attend, using the magic words natural talent for the guitar and great potential with the right vocal training, that they agreed to get him not only private guitar lessons, but singing lessons too. Mr Glover had been more than happy to keep their lessons up, but Phillip and Margret Buckley didn’t think a mere school music teacher was good enough to teach their son, not if he was going to become somebody. Buck hadn’t cared who taught him, he’d just wanted to learn, just like this kid seems to.

“Would you like to learn a couple of chords now?” Buck asks.

The kid’s face lights up, a wide smile stretching across his face as he nods his head eagerly. Buck feels himself melt a little at how adorable this kid is.

“First things first.” Buck lays his guitar over his lap and extends his hand out to the kid. “I’m Buck.”

The kid looks at his hand for a moment, long enough that Buck is starting to wonder if maybe he doesn’t know what a handshake is, but then a small hand slips into his. “I’m Christopher.”

No pressure tagging: @watchyourbuck @hippolotamus @athenagranted @eddiebabygirldiaz @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jamespearce9-1-1 @wildlife4life @weewootruck @rainbow-nerdss @the-likesofus @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @clusterbuck @monsterrae1 @mellaithwen @nmcggg and anyone else who wants to join in and share something ❤️

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @trulybetty! I have no idea how you can work on multiple things at once, but kudos to you for that. I'm jealous of your ability to do it.💜

So, for this Wednesday's update, I bring you a snippet from Week 2 of Closed Position and some fun extras. Enjoy!

As we reached the end of the choreography we had pieced together so far, I glanced toward the hallway windows. Alec was gone.  My eyes met Dieter’s, “Let’s take a water break.” He nodded before pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. I couldn’t help the way my eyes raked over his exposed skin. I had to force myself to turn away from him as I drank from my water bottle.   “Alec doesn’t like me, does he?” Dieter asked from behind me before taking a drink of his own water. I casually turned to him, “He’s concerned about your womanizing ways. I guess he’s worried you're gonna steal me away from him or something.”   Dieter smirked, “I mean, I would never do anything you didn’t want me to…” My brows arched in surprise at his words. I absolutely cannot handle him saying shit like that to me. I could already feel the effects of his words and that devilish smirk pulsing between my thighs.

What's that? Do we have flirting? Maaaaaybe. It's mostly Dieter being an unintentional menace...but we’ll take it. Right?

I pretty much have this chapter done (I think). I still have editing to do though. It’s long AF (around 15k words). I’m hoping to post by Friday. 😉

I have a few other gifts to offer. First, head on over HERE to check out this amazing video that @survivingandenduring was kind enough to put together for Closed Position. It's hot and has all the Dieter & Kat ✨vibes✨. I’m still screaming over it!

Second, I have started working on a playlist for Closed Position. I will be adding to it as inspiration strikes. I also plan to add the songs used for Dieter & Kat's performances. Week 2's song is already on the list. Want to take a guess on which song it is?

NPT: @morallyinept @rhoorl @for-a-longlongtime

Closed Position Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held

*If your name is marked out, that means it wouldn’t let me tag you. ☹️

Listen, I know that technically Elucien won my WIP Wednesday poll by a surprisingly close 2 votes, but I actually finished writing this unplanned Nessian fic today over dinner, which means I'll be able to edit it tomorrow after work and post on Friday sooooo hope everyone enjoys this snippet?

“Imagine if he pulls me out of the crowd and invites me back to his place after the show,” the other girl in the tee offers to her friend.

“Once he sees you, he totally would.”

“I bet he’s amazing in bed too. He’d rock my world, and then I’d be like no need to look any further. You found your future wife.”

The girls laugh and practically squeal in agreement, but Nesta has to swallow down a scoff. She doesn’t know why the conversation scrapes across her skin, why it grates against her nerves. She knows that Cassian and his brothers have a large female following for their band. She knows that she’s the one who asked to keep their relationship more private. She knows that it’s their bed he comes home to each night, that she’s the one he wakes with soft kisses and quiet good mornings, that she gets the ‘I love you’s and the smiles just for her.

But there’s no denying the anger that starts to lick through Nesta’s veins, fire crackling and flaring beneath her skin. There’s no denying the annoyance that twists through her stomach, tightening like vines in her chest. It takes everything within her to bite her tongue around the words she wants to sneer, instead shouldering past the girls and through the crowds to continue her trek toward the side of the building.

When she reaches the back of the building, she spots Cassian's truck in the lot. The pair of stagehands smoking and the big, burly security guard standing near an otherwise nondescript metal door let her know she's found what she's looking for. She unzips her jacket enough that she can pull free her pass, flashing it, but rather than letting her in, the security guard holds out his arms to stop her. His eyes narrow suspiciously, sweeping over her and squinting at her pass.

It has Nesta's anger burning into full-blown rage, into a living, writhing thing that digs its claws into her chest and begs to be released. Her boyfriend is in there. Her boyfriend. And she won't have these people looking at her like she's just some groupie. Won't have these girls thinking they're going home with Cassian.

Fuck It Friday!!

Tagged by @theotherbuckley @wikiangela (go check out her new Christmas fic!!!) and @steadfastsaturnsrings please go read all their wips right now!

Today I have a bit of Buck and Eddie's first meeting for the Single Dad's AU!! This bit is a work in progress and will probably be tweaked a bit so would appreciate some feedback (please be nice lol, it's been a long week)

Snippet under the cut (it's a bit long but what's new!)

Buck’s standing outside Carrie’s classroom when he notices the new guy.

It’s not weird, okay, but Buck knows all the parents of kids in both his daughters’ classes and he’s positive he hasn’t seen this guy before. He wouldn’t forget someone so perfectly handsome quite so easily.

The man looks a little apprehensive as if this is the first time he’s done pick up before (and maybe it is, Buck doesn’t know the guy and he’s not about to judge), and Buck instantly remembers what it was like for him when he picked Carrie up from her first day of school. All the moms had flocked him like hungry chickens and grilled him about why he was there, who was his kid, where was his wife, questions that he got all too often as a single dad, but it didn’t make them any easier to answer.

He figures, if this guy is going through half of what Buck went through on his first day of pick up, he’s gonna need a friend.

Buck takes a breath before making his way over to where the guy is standing. He’s hot, that much is blatantly obvious. He’s not overly muscular but the muscles he does have are beautifully toned as though carved painstakingly out of marble. He’s got a light dusting of stubble on his jaw and his hair is fluffy and is styled into what Buck reckons the guy hopes looks like a casual quiff. His hair and eyes are both dark, like melted chocolate, which is unfortunate because that is exactly Buck’s type. In summary: he’s a fucking god.

Buck can definitely be normal about this.

He clears his throat nervously before taking another step closer.

“First time at pick up?”

The guy’s head flicks up so fast Buck swears he can hear it click. “What was that?”

“Is this your first time at pick up? I just – I haven’t seen you here before, not that I’m keeping track but I know most of the parents here, so I was just curious when I saw you and –“ Buck swallows. He’s rambling, like an idiot, and the guy is looking at him with an expression that looks to be a mixture of confusion and amusement, as if he can’t quite figure out if Buck’s a threat or just some dumbass that won’t shut up.

“Sorry, I swear I’m not weird, I’m just –“ Buck holds out his hand. “I’m Buck. Well, Evan, but everyone calls me Buck.”

A wide grin spreads across the guy’s face and Buck heaves a sigh of relief as he takes Buck’s hand, shaking it firmly. His hands are warm and calloused, a sure sign of a man who’s good with his hands. Buck tries very very hard not to think how good he might be with his hands.

“Eddie,” the guy replies, his teeth flashing as he smiles, “Eddie Diaz. Yeah, first time at pick up. Yesterday was actually my kid’s first day here but my Abuela got him.”

Buck leans against a pillar and him and Eddie quickly strike up a conversation. It’s clear the poor guy’s frazzled as hell, Buck learns quickly about how Eddie’s new to town (to be fair, Eddie doesn’t provide all this unprompted, Buck’s asking him a load of questions and Eddie indulges him with answers), how he’s been struggling to find somewhere for his son, Christopher, and how he’s trying to navigate life as a single dad. Buck can certainly sympathise.

“Yeah, I get you, when Carrie and Lily’s Mom died, I had no idea what I was going to do, but we worked it out. They’re such great kids -”

A flash of recognition passes over Eddie’s face. “Wait, you’re Carrie’s dad?”

Buck pauses, mid-sentence. “Uhhh, yeah?”

Before he has a second to breathe, Buck’s being pulled into a bone-crushing hug, and it knock the air out of him. He makes a surprised “mmfff” into Eddie’s shoulder and he pats his back, a little bemused, until Eddie releases him.

“Sorry,” he says gruffly and Buck swears he sees the slightest hint of a tear behind Eddie’s eyelids. “It’s just – Christopher told me how she stood up for him in class yesterday and he was so happy, he’s never had a friend like that before. You’ve done an amazing job with her, man.”

Buck can’t help but swell a little from the praise. “Yeah, she’s a great kid, I’m so lucky she’s mine you know. And she told me all about Christopher yesterday, she’s so excited to have him in her class. Apparently, he’s her new best friend.”

Eddie laughs loudly at that, the noise warming Buck’s chest and spreading through his fingers. “Yeah, well, that’s seven year olds for you.”

(No pressure) tagging @daffi-990 @hippolotamus @rainbow-nerdss @loserdiaz @malewifediaz @thewolvesof1998 @jesuisici33 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @housewifebuck @disasterbuckdiaz @callmenewbie @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @smilingbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @fruitandbubbles @watchyourbuck @fionaswhvre @evanbegins @buckbuckgoose @bucksbackwardcap @aspecbuddie

Fuck it Friday

tagged by @daffi-990 @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela

really saying fuck it, by posting snippets from two wips! first is from you have my heart, and the second one is from a new wip i started based on the current book i'm reading, thank you for listening, in which buck and eddie are romance novel audiobook narrators.

Hen walks over to Bobby, who seems tired and exhausted over the whole ordeal. She doesn’t blame him. Bobby always seems so good at keeping it together, the man deserves to let go of his mask once everyone is gone. However once he sees her, the smile slips back on. She shakes her head, letting him know it’s okay to be human with her. “It’s been a long day, Cap. I’m just glad this one ended happily for everyone this time.” He nods at that. Bobby gets up, meaning to head for the fire truck. Hen reaches a hand to stop him. “I wanted to let you know. I noticed – Chimney and I noticed – something. Something we think you should know.” Closing her eyes, she musters up the courage to say what Chimney and she silently agreed on between themselves. She told Chimney about Buck a little before he came back out of the house, and she was there as Chimney took care of Eddie’s vitals. They had to keep Buck from being in the ambulance bay as they checked Eddie over during that portion.  “Neither Buck or Eddie have their hearts.”  Bobby takes a breath at that information. “I see,” he says after a moment of silence. “Cap?” Hen searches his face, which has turned to his Captain Face. All blank and void of emotion as if he’s assessing a critical scene. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” Bobby meets her gaze. He’s exhausted, and clearly wants to go home to Athena. Hen feels the same way. Wants to go home and bring Denny into her and Karen’s bed so she can cuddle with him like when he was a toddler. “I’m thinking…that they’ll tell us when they’re ready. And when they are, I’m going to have a bitch of a time filling out new paperwork.” Bobby claps her on the back and lets her drive home that night. Hen can’t say he isn’t right. They technically don’t know how long Buck and Eddie have had each other’s hearts. However, she hopes Bobby isn’t making the wrong decision of letting those boys take their time to tell the 118. After all, despite how tired she is, she does have money on them telling them they’re a couple soon.

Second snippet under the cut.

Buck looks up from his book to greet everyone when he stops in his tracks. Already there’s someone recording in the booth. In his booth. 

He ignores the glares and eyerolls from Bobby, Hen, Chimney, and…Athena? She doesn’t often come to Buck’s recording sessions. Only to quickly see her husband and check how well their employees are doing. With Bobby primarily in charge of the romance side of things, Athena is primarily in charge of the mysteries and thriller novels. Buck’s sister, Maddie likes to narrate those types of books. Her speciality being ones where the female lead solves the crime. 

Buck watches as this new guy continues reading from something that sounds like a Western. A Texan accent easily slips through his lips. “‘As I watch Thomas carefully set his blanket down on the ground, wiping away any wrinkles to make sure it’s nice and neat, I can’t help but remember how sheltered this man is. Sure, he’s had a few tumbles getting through the mountains, but to his core, Thomas is a city boy meant to go back into polite and humble society. Once I get him back to his family, that’s where we part ways.’” 

He’s…fine, Buck grumbles. Hen turns to him, a smirk on her lips. He must have made some sort of noise for her to be looking at him like that. Buck quickly morphs his features into a smile, although from her widening grin, he doesn’t think he pulls it off. 

Keeping quiet, he whispers to Bobby, “Who is this guy?” 

“Eddie Diaz, new narrator. Athena finally convinced him to join us. Been trying to get him to join the 118 for months.” 

Buck’s eyes widened in shock. Eddie Diaz? He’s practically as famous as Buck in the romance genre. Buck’s been guilty of looking himself up in the audiobook romance spaces, and saw that time and time again, he and Eddie tended to be neck and neck on the most popular male narrator. With both women and men swooning over their voices. The last poll he saw, he lost by one percentage point to Eddie thanks to his latest book having an impressive amount of dirty talk. (Buck’s not bitter about it. He swears he’s not.) 

“What do we need him for?” Everyone laughs as if Buck has told a joke. He didn’t. Buck already has to deal with Eddie stealing his thunder on the internet, he doesn’t need to deal with the same thing at work. Buck worked hard on getting where he is. Soon, Eddie will be taking book deals that should be going to Buck and Buck will be right where he was when he started at this record company. He’s not going to let that happen. 

“I’m going to be another half hour with Eddie, Buck. If you want you can listen, or you can wait outside for your time to record,” Bobby tells him. Buck considers it. He’s heard some of Eddie’s narration before, however getting to see how Bobby directs him this last half hour would be beneficial to see just where he lands now that he knows there’s competition.

“Yeah, alright.” He plops down on the couch next to Athena. He sees she’s got a copy of what he assumes is the book Eddie is narrating. The cover depicts two men on it – one dressed as a cowboy and the other in a Victorian suit. Buck files the name of the novel to find it later on his Kindle. Meanwhile, he listens to Eddie read to everyone in the booth.

the book Eddie is reading from is completely made up, sorry! tagging @hippolotamus @malewifediaz @911-on-abc @loserdiaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @monsterrae1 @liminalmemories21 @apothecarose @mammameesh @rmd-writes @wandering-night19 @rosedavid @alrightbuckaroo @carlos-in-glasses @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @eowon @pirrusstuff @your-catfish-friend @theotherbuckley @aroeddiediaz @ramonaflow @spotsandsocks

Meeraaaaaa first, I genuinely hope that you’re doing good 🖤 second, I am so excited for the following wips! and third, along with that can you share a lil snippet or teaser of the one that’ll be for Mr Ricciardo? That man does things to me😶‍🌫️

Hiiiiii! I'm doing good even though this week kinda kicked my butt! It's Friday tho 🥳🥳!

Anyhoo, let's get to the good stuff. Here is the first portion of the yet to be named Daniel fic. It took me a while to answer this (sorry 😬) only because I was still trying to figure out how I was going to structure it but now I think I got it (and the Carlos one too;even though that one is still going through modifications). Damn, I talk too much 😮‍💨😮‍💨, anyway here it is. 😘😘 (and I'll give y'all the header again too cause I love it 🩵 also this is not edited at all sooo... 🧍🏿‍♀️)

________

"Now, tell me again why we are doing this?" You sit to tie your tan and white Jordan 1's, Daniel's hands soon replacing yours in the process, finishing the jobs for you on one foot and then beckoning for the other foot, which you give.

"I'm leaving tomorrow for Faenza for 2 weeks, so I made sure I left today fully open and I continuously reminded you to keep today clear, so we can spend the day together." He smiles briefly up at you then finishes tying before standing and, albeit unnecessarily, taking your hand to assist with you standing again. It was something he always did, but you knew why. Since getting married almost 2 years ago, he would grab your left hand to help you up, and you would always feel his thumb run over the ring on your finger, the sap.

"Aw, you mush. You're so freaking cute, you know that?" You purposefully use your left hand to squeeze his cheeks. You loved the sight before you, manicured hands and shiny wedding ring wrapped around the scruffy, goofily smiling face of your husband, surprised his pupils weren't in the shape of hearts with how he was looking at you. You were going to bring his face in for a kiss, but instead his arms reach behind you to grip your ass pulling you in for a kiss, your arm trapped between you two and hand still on his face. As squeeze from Daniel's hand is ended the kiss, you shocked from the sensation.

"Boy, you always have your hands on my butt." You swat at him so he could let you go and you could go and grab a few more items before you left.

"Because, we're married now. That's our butt." He smacks it as you walk by and then head to the kitchen prepare your guys' matching water bottles for the day.

"When you say all day, you mean all day. You only fill our waters when we won't be home for hours." You take your cup and take a sip from your straw as you walk out the door, which Daniel opened for you and straggled behind to lock before jogging to open the car door for you.

"Need to stay hydrated. We're also getting coffee, and you know it makes you feel anxious unless you drink water as well." He makes sure you're in the car before closing the door and jogging to his side and climbing in. At first he doesn't start the car. He just looks at you as you file through your purse to make sure you had everything, a soft, dazed look in his eyes and a matching grin on his lips, but when you look at him it was like a switch flipped on behind his eyes, brightening both them and his smile. "Let's go have some fun."

Fuck-it Friday

Tagged several times before I even woke up! Haha. But thank you to these lovelies for the tags. @prince-buck-diaz, @bekkachaos, @thewolvesof1998, @heartbeatdiaz, @ebdaydreamer, and @transbuck

I think we all know what I'm about to drop, but also with the fun surprise of a fake instagram post! I'm getting nifty! So here it is, another snippet of NFL Buck and Firefighter Eddie secret relationship.

Chimney wasn’t trying to stalk Eddie on social media because it’s kind hard to when that person’s internet presence is almost non-existent. His twitter was practically tweet free, just retweets, mostly from WeRateDogs.  His Facebook profile was just about the same, with the most recent original post being about moving to Los Angeles. Instagram was a dead end, private and Eddie had yet to accept his follower request.

How the hell was Chimney supposed to find out anything about this mysterious boyfriend of Eddie’s? All he knew was that he made good money, had a sister, and worked out at some fancy gym. He needed to know more!

Chimney was just about to give up, then two weeks after the request, Eddie finally accepted.  The paramedic went on the deepest dive he could, clicking through post after post, noting most of his page were pictures of Christopher, a couple of group shots with his Houston firehouse, a handful of photos with who Chimney assumed were members of his family, including the once mentioned sisters, and a single picture of Eddie with two other paramedics in front of an ambulance for Austin, Texas.

It was the second to last picture though, that finally gave Chimney a lead.   

The photo was almost artistic in a sense, with the Longhorn’s stadium at field level, lit up by the lights with a beautiful Texas sunset in the background. It had 10 likes, and two comments.  One from his former paramedic captain Tommy Vega and the other, a single emoji from an account Chimney saw had liked every photo Eddie had posted. Buck4life.

The page was private, with a profile picture of a beautiful dog with a black coat, which looked a little familiar.  He had 10 followers but followed 100 plus.  Another dead end.

He clicks on tommy_vega_126, digs a bit there, and finds that she follows and is followed by Buck4life.  So, Eddie’s previous captain knows this ‘Buck’, who is most likely the mysterious boyfriend. Because who else besides family would like every photo and family doesn’t leave a cryptic, yet loving emoji on a photo that is reflecting on emotional beginnings.

Chimney’s conclusion: Buck4life was the boyfriend and they met during Eddie’s time working the Longhorn games. That boyfriend has a dog, which meant Eddie has a dog, and Chimney is really curious how that man comes into work without a single trace of dog fur on him.  Hen would definitely like to know.  Even since rescuing Pasiley, she has come in with some part of her civilian clothes and uniform decorated with white fur and she puts up a minor fuss about it every time.

He needed to find his best friend and present his new findings.

See nifty! And yes, they will have a dog, who is based off of Oliver Stark's own, Jade. Alright I hope you all enjoyed and if you want to see the other post from this wip, just click on the nfl tag on my page, they should all come up.

Tagging (sorry if already tagged and/or posted! No pressure!): @elvensorceress @911onabc @shortsighted-owl @thekristen999 @lizzybizzyzzz @cowboy-buddie @911-on-abc

Photographer!Lando WIP Snippet

Inadvertently came across an F1 challenge on ao3 that included a prompt about paddock photographer Lando and Ferrari driver Carlos and now I am running wild with it. It's almost 20k help Since I'm horrible at making short, consistent things, here I am sharing a snippet of them meeting for the first time

Lando had just been starting in the F3 paddock the last time Ferrari had seriously challenged for the title. It hadn’t ultimately gone well— a masterclass in disaster if Lando’s being honest. The way hope had slowly petered out, all but gone by July. Lando doesn’t know Carlos personally, but he’s followed his career through the years— had posters of him up on his bedroom wall and everything. He’s not too proud to admit that it’d be pretty cool to watch Carlos take Ferrari to their first championship in eighteen years. What a story that would make.

The Red Bulls aren’t too far behind him on Friday practice, his teammate back in third to his second after Saturday’s qualifying is all said and done.

It’s not like Charles doesn’t also deserve to be champion, Lando thinks, watching from the castle as he’s practically on top of Carlos through the tricky corners. But there’s a part of Carlos that screams he’s done waiting, and compared to the two DNFs Charles has already had with another fifth place in Australia, he’s further back in the points already.

Carlos has been walking around with careful confidence every time Lando sees him, like he can’t quite believe it’s been going so well.

And Lando’s not a stranger as to the other reason he’d love for Carlos to win.

It starts with a cr and ends with an ush. Seeing Carlos know he’s leading even early on in the season has been doing wonders for Lando’s infatuation. While he’s not one of the photographers who wait around for the drivers arriving at the paddock each day, he’s half tempted to hang around to get some of Carlos.

Lando’s sitting with his camera in the old city complex around halfway through the race when one of the nearby marshals reaches for their yellow flag. A second later, he sees a distinctly red Ferrari come around the corner going much slower than it should be even given the area it’s in. The distinct 55 becomes clearer not too long after.

One of the marshals rushes up to Lando, ushering him away from the escape road that Carlos is trying to direct his car towards. Lando moves, numb and disappointed as the broadcast feed in his ears finally acknowledges Carlos’ impending DNF.

He’s supposed to be neutral, and he is for the most part. It’s just that Carlos had been comfortably in the lead after jumping Checo at the start and now he’ll walk away from the weekend without any points.

This is how it starts.

Carlos jumps from the car once it’s safely off track and marches behind the barriers. They’ve never spoken, but Lando can read the tension in his shoulders from ten feet away. He’s stuck standing still as some of the nearby photographers turn to capture Carlos’ annoyance. Lando can’t bring himself to raise his lens in Carlos’ direction and instead turns back to the track. Carlos is undoubtedly not in the mood.

The old city usually provides good vantage points to capture the cars as they come through, but bunched up behind the safety car while the tractor pulls Carlos’ car behind the barriers is even better. A nineteen-car squirming snake.

The other photographers wander off after a handful of shots leaving Lando to believe that Carlos has mounted whatever scooter of shame they have for him back to the paddock. He’ll probably want to go punch something.

When Lando turns around after all the cars have cycled past though, a shock of red sitting with his back against the barrier without a helmet on, greets him. Lando only feels slightly guilty for thinking Carlos looks hot when he’s sad. The sight of Carlos sitting there, legs bent and hands dangling atop his knees, takes Lando’s breath away.

He should focus on the race, maybe move to a new location as the safety car comes in and the race goes green again. Instead, all Lando does is open his big mouth in the most embarrassing way.

“So, come here often?” It’s not overly loud, but with the lull in noise and Carlos close by, of course he hears it.

Carlos cracks open an eye and shifts his head level with Lando. “That is the best you could come up with?” It’s not overly nasty, but the element of unimpressed is definitely there that has Lando cringing internally.

“I mean, unless you’d rather me ask if you’re okay? And clearly you are, physically. Mentally, you’re probably kicking yourself. Points opportunity gone and everything when you know you need every one you can get.” Carlos is staring at Lando dead-eyed when Lando’s brain finally cooperates and slots its filter back in place.

“Are you finished?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

The tell-tale roar of engines making their way down the straight pulls Lando’s attention back to the track.

God, he’s such a moron. Out of all times for his filter to up and disappear, of course it happens while meeting one of the hottest people he’s ever seen. All while clad in the billowy white and purple mesh photographer vest he’s made to wear. Carlos probably thinks he’s some piece of shit who thinks he’s right about everything.

Checo’s leading when the cars snake past them but the only noise that lingers once they pass is his own self screaming wanker inside his head over and over.

“I haven’t seen you before, I think.” Carlos unexpectedly speaks nearly in conjunction with Lando’s finger lifting from the shutter.

Lando carefully holds himself still, trying to evoke an air of uncaring rather than one of eagerness to please. “Uh, no. This is my first season in the F1 paddock. Been with F2 and F3 since 2019 though. I’m Lando— Norris. Lando Norris.” He would hold his hand out for Carlos to shake if they weren’t awkwardly far apart and Lando was sure Carlos wouldn’t punch him for speaking out of his ass.

Carlos doesn’t punch him though. He nods and turns his head to look over at the marshal standing at their post fifteen feet away. “Tell me, Lando Norris, do you think this will cost me in a few months?”

Lando should say no, especially after shoving his foot in his mouth earlier. “It’s not gonna make it easier,” he says. God. “I mean— it’s not like I don’t think you can’t. I think if anyone could come back, it’s you. With like, consistency and all that. But the field is like, so close, you know? I should really stop talking.”

But Carlos is at least smiling at him this time like he’s enjoying watching Lando struggle to stop digging himself an ever deeper hole. He probably just needs to run and find a new photo spot where he won’t be at risk of talking to drivers who DNF.

“You think I’m consistent?” Carlos teases. Because that’s 100% what he’s doing, Lando can see it now. Proper smile and everything.

He points his camera at Carlos and takes a burst of shots in retaliation. They don’t deter Carlos’ grin.

“I mean, you beat your veteran teammate twice over the seasons since you’ve been at Ferrari, and then before when you were at McLaren even though you had shit luck. You know how to keep it in one piece.” Lando can feel how hot his face is and wonders if his blush is visible.

Carlos sighs. “I guess we will see, no? Where is Charles right now?”

The cars come roaring back up the hill and Lando counts fifth. Carlos seems mildly okay with that. Lando can only imagine how quickly Ferrari would switch allegiances if Carlos’ performance fell off. At least Lando can offer some reassurance.

One of the Haases clips a corner and gets some spectacular front axle damage a few laps later. Carlos takes that as his cue to push himself up and make his way back down to the paddock. Part of Lando is morose to see him go even though he definitely needs to move as well to get some variety in what he sends off later.

“I will see you around?” Carlos asks as he picks his helmet off the ground.

Lando flashes him a smile. “I’ll be here as long as they let me. Hopefully next time you’ll be back up on that podium.” And then Carlos is trudging back in the direction of the pits. Lando gives Carlos a few minutes before setting off in the same direction. Better to be closer to the podium at this stage in the race than farther away.

Lando doesn’t see Carlos again for the remainder of the afternoon. When he’s editing his photos later as the paddock begins to clear and the champagne has dried, he comes across the ones he quickly took of Carlos. They stop him in his tracks.

The photographers who had swarmed him after getting out of the car and sitting down on the ground all got photos of Carlos at his most vulnerable. Lando’s sure they look like he’s about to cry or scream or maybe both. They’ll use them to paint pictures of defeat and concern over Carlos’ championship chances— the likelihood of continuing with a DNF under his belt.

Lando’s photo shows the opposite. There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he sits on the ground looking in Lando’s direction. It doesn’t speak of dashed championship hopes, but rather fortified determination. That a DNF isn’t the end of the world, nor does Carlos think so.

He spends a few minutes correcting the balances and then opens Instagram. Carlos is one of those longstanding drivers Lando’s followed practically since he signed up for an account. He’s sure Carlos gets overwhelming numbers of DMs on a regular basis, but Lando has no other way of contacting him and he wants Carlos to have the photos.

The way his gut jumps when Carlos not only opens the message but replies with a short message of gratitude, should be embarrassing. Like a fucking teenager. And then Carlos honest to God posts them, crediting Lando’s page.

Lando tries not to feel guilty when he goes back to the hotel later and pulls up Pornhub on his phone. Dark-haired and dark-eyed guys aren’t solely reminiscent of Carlos. He’s totally normal and within his rights.

Nothing to worry about.

Klaroline WIP Wed - Freaky Friday Time Travel fic - Part 2

Okay so FFTT fic won the poll so here you go! I gave an extra amount bc I couldn't decide a reasonable place to stop. Picks up after this snippet.

--------------------

While her vampire hearing might have been bogged down by the noise in the Square, she was annoyingly attuned to Klaus’ presence. His parting words reached her easily: “Someday, you will.”

She had gone to lunch grumpy and while fortunately Matt had accepted her grumbled explanation of having run into the hybrid menace–he agreed that would put anyone in a bad mood–she hadn’t quite been able to shake the vague itch that sat under her skin as she helped Matt struggle through algebra.

Even before Elena had been assisted into mind-wiping her whole personality, it felt like the only times she’d been needed were to attempt to twist Klaus around her finger, and those all had middling results that usually left her staring at her ceiling that night instead of sleeping. And now that Klaus wasn’t the worst monster in town–at least from her perspective–she hadn’t gotten a lot of calls recently. Maybe that was why she was so eager to help Matt: it was nice to feel needed.

And maybe that was the reason she had gone over to Klaus’ house when he’d blown up her phone with eleventy billion messages. Not that he’d freaked her out with his half-coherent voicemails. It was already a betrayal in several ways that she agreed to be friends with him. Admitting she cared? She tried to imagine what Tyler would say, his mom’s murderer friends with his girlfriend.

By the time she left the grill, Matt was consistently getting the correct answers on the tougher equations, and she’d worked herself into a ball of stress that only a hemoglobin juice pouch could sate.

Now, staring down at the small cardboard box on the porch swing, Caroline wondered what game Klaus was trying to play. Was he trying to make up for being a bit of a dick–okay, not really, but it’s the principle of the thing–the last time they spoke? If it was Klaus.

A ripped piece of sketch paper was taped to the top and she tugged it free. Her name was printed in Klaus’ bold handwriting, and she sighed. Picking up the box, she let herself into the house. Once in her room, she set the box on her vanity and told herself sternly she would deal with it later. Both AP Bio and AP Calculus finals were tomorrow and she needed to study. Really needed to study.

Pulling her books out of her school bag, she arranged herself comfortably on her bed, shoes off, color-coded notebooks at hand, rubber-banded stacks of flashcards at her hip. She put on soothing lo-fi as background music; she was ready.

Caroline’s resolve lasted an unfortunate seven minutes before she was pulling a pair of scissors out of her vanity and cutting the tape keeping the box closed. Pulling the flaps back revealed cottony packing fluff that she began pulling out until at last the real contents of the box were revealed. Nestled in more fluff, a thick chain with a chunky triangular prism on it sat in the box. It was old, the prism framed in gold. 

“Oh wow,” she murmured, picking it up by the chain and dangling it in front of her face. The stone was some kind of iridescent green with small cracks in it, and the frame of the pendant had markings on it. “That is… really ugly.” It rotated in the light from her lamp, and what looked like writing was down one side. Caroline put out a hand to move it back to get a better look at it, but the moment her fingers connected with the pendant, they stuck.

An odd whooshing filled her ears, and the light in her room must have popped because her vision went white.

“Oh shit!” She blinked rapidly, hoping she could see something, anything, while she shook her hand, trying to dislodge the necklace. Whatever magic bullshit was going on, she was going to kill Klaus when she got her hands on him, white oak stake be damned.

A pulse slammed through her and it almost felt like she fell past someone, and then she stumbled back and slammed into something that felt like bars. The necklace fell away from her hand and clattered to the floor; she left it there. Sparkles were dancing in her vision, slowly clearing into the view of an expensive-looking bedroom through a balcony door. She could see a large bed and a chaise lounge next to a bookshelf, another door that looked like it led to an en suite. It could have been an expensive apartment or a fancy hotel room, it was hard to tell. None of it looked familiar, and it certainly wasn’t in Mystic Falls. It didn’t even look American, that look that comes from being several hundred years old that few still occupied buildings had.

Pushing herself up against the balcony, Caroline turned around to take in the view and gasped. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower lit up the night horizon, the glow of a thousand lights brightening up the city. Some part of her was horrified, she’d clearly been kidnapped, she didn’t know how she was going to get home in time for her final unless Klaus could zap her back, and explaining this to her mother would probably ensure she was grounded for, she didn’t know, opening strange packages or something. Caroline should know better.

The other part of her was frozen, thinking how magical the city looked at night.

A soft noise came from behind her. “I would be open to giving the neighbors something magnificent to look at if you insist on the balcony, although I may have to kill them for the pleasure of it afterward.”

Caroline spun around at Klaus’ voice, poised to give him a piece of her mind, and froze. He stood in the door frame without a single stitch on, the lean muscles of his body on display for her like a feast, the tattoos she’d seen on his chest the one time, the trim waist leading down to his incredible co–she clapped her hands over her eyes. There was no looking, none. “Seriously, why are you naked?” She may have shrieked a little. “And why are we in Paris? Is this your idea of a date? Because you are taking me home right now, buddy. I cannot believe you kidnapped me.”

💗

*taps microphone*

i thought it would be nice to fill you all in on my WIP’s! i usually will share little snippets every now and them but, feeling generous today.

also!!! welcome to all my newest followers! when youre ready head over to my masterlist. i think theres a little something of everything to enjoy especially if youre a roman girlie, cody as well! and even a little cm punk

the john wick au for CODY is steadily in progress. a have a standard banner made but othet collages were recently made for me so ill drop those down below. theyre amazing. thanks so much to @crxssjae heres another little excerpt for your reading pleasure:

"they're blanks anyways", emptying the magazine as the faux bullets fall to the floor. your hand settling down the gun and its magazine on the coffee table. "just wanted to see how thin your patience has worn". 

your chin jutting over to the couch. hands full of medical supplies as you pad over to him softly. his body aching and slow as it rests into the tender leather of the seating, but moving without delay still. always under the gentle charm of your voice, his being falling under this servile sort of subjection. making him bristle silently within himself. all that time and distance amounting to nothing for his resolve. 

cody surrenders. mind over matter no longer needed. succumbing to the full weight of his pain. hair messy with red droppings of other peoples blood. his muscles sore and the hammering about his skull diligent and taunting. 

"my pain has always been a funny little joke to you". 

you pull the coffee table closer to the wide spread of cody's legs. your own slipping over to straddle the strength of one of his thighs. your body warm and comforting against his skin. an old feeling blooming in his chest. you were doing this on purpose. he's sure of it. to see him waver and yield to the charm of your presence. gentle touch tabbing to rid his cheek of dried blood before you went about cleaning the wound. his fingers itching to form to your body, desperate to push dull nails into your skin again. to form in and caress with the intent to renew his memory. 

your eyes flit to his crotch. "its a lot more than little. give yourself some credit", you muse. applying butterfly stitches. 

how do we feel about lumberjack!roman?… cuz im like 600 words in:

his beer is cold. wet glass slipping against his skin. a crisp hoppy taste on his tongue that settles till his belly excites with warm. the ache in his hands seeking a temporary remedy, holding to the chill of the bottle. thick fingers working with a diligent memory of axes and chainsaws. an all day affair thats old and tedious. the smell of walnut and oak and maple, chips of fly away wood and the hard sun. a good cold beer after a hard day was a must. mandatory. so friday's meant a beer plus two extra. but never four because jey always overdid shit and he had to be the dad of the group. had to take care of baby boy jey. and sometimes seth. and sometimes dean. because dean loved to play and fuck around, car keys jingling between his fingers, feigning the mind of a sober man. cackling and teary eyed, because panic about roman's face was just so fucking funny. 

hope everyones day is productive and safe!!💋

WIP weekend

Time to do a WIP weekend!! I got tagged by @zombiethingy, and finally have time to write today (and this whole week really), and need some inspiration, so here we go! Thanks so much for the tag friend!!

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

My WIPs are:

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Sunday AND Tuesday – Soulmate AU + First Meetings – soulmates seeing in colour version. Jim/Archie/Olu/Zheng."

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Wednesday – Fighting | Hurt/Comfort – Jim insomnia fic - WEREWOLF AU PACK PACK PACK"

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Friday  - Garlic (NSFW) - Group Sex | Exploring a new kink  AND Saturday – Mix up the pairings/dealer’s choice – Jim/Zheng with Olu/Archie watching."

Concussion – unfinished, unposted (OFMD, Jim-centric)

blood part 4 (OFMD)

For "OFMD garlic soup week is in 6 weeks and I want to have at least a few fics done" reasons, three of my WIPs are for that XD (but they're all in one document because i'm terrible, so they get subtitles too)

Tagging, but only if you want to (and if you don't I am handing you an oven-warm cookie instead)! @alfalfairy, @yourlocal-charlatan, @yerbamansa, @redxluna, @petrichorca - and anyone who sees this and wants to do it! (Feels like a long while since I've tagged writer pals, so I can't remember who all of you that like to do this sort of thing are XD)

Snippet below the cut:

from concussion (which is an exploration of long-term concussion & disability through ofmd)

The first miracle happens – a man comes back to life. It’s not the man you hoped it would be, but it’s a joyful occasion nonetheless. Joyful, and fearful, because you don’t know what you’ll do if Blackbeard or Izzy finds out.

It’s Lucius. You stumble back to your cabin early one evening, because if you don’t lie down you might pass out, and Fang insists he’ll cover for you and shoos you away. You slide open the door and find Lucius sprawling on your bed, whispering to Frenchie who sits on the floor darning the pants he’d torn at the knee the day before.

They both freeze, staring at you like a rabbit caught in a snare.

“Jim,” Frenchie says, stumbling over his words, darning set carefully aside as he scrambles to his feet. “I can explain –“

You stumble into the room, closing the door and lurching towards the bed. Lucius sits up, and you can see now that he’s skinny, filthy too, a full beard covering his face. You can’t believe he’s alive. You can’t believe he’s here.

“I need to lie down,” is all you can say, because if you say anything else you’re going to burst into tears, and if you wrap him up in a hug you might shatter apart.

“No, yeah, absolutely,” Lucius stammers out, sitting up. “I can go –“

You don’t wait. You just crawl onto the mattress beside him and lay down, curling onto your side, dragging the pillow from where it lay and shoving it under your head. It hurts to keep your eyes open, so you close them, press your palms overtop for good measure. The warmth of them helps, and the way they block out the light helps even more. “Stay.”

Silence follows, or maybe you just can’t hear the creaking of his weight shifting on the bed or the looks he and Frenchie exchange over the thudding of your pulse in your ears. Slowly, carefully, not touching you at all, Lucius lays back down.

Two fingers touch the back of your hand, feather-light. “Are you alright?”

A lump grows in your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter. “Don’t ask me that.”

“Sorry -” The touch disappears. Before he can move away completely you reach out, fumble for his hand. Grab it, and hold it so tight your hand hurts.

“Stay,” you mumble again.

So Lucius does.

ahh thank you to @crime-wives for the tag !!!

wip Wednesday on a thrusday (or maybe Friday now)

I have a lot of wips (mainly original ones and not fanfics) so here's a few snippets from two of them!! please ignore any rough edges, these are first drafts and are far from finished

letters to my dead dog - pending title, original work

Observance is a trait for the loners. To be a watcher is to be a prisoner of self-imposed distance that creates the ideals for one to be the narrator rather than the protagonist, a storyteller rather than the story. Observers are everywhere; God or Goddess for some, ancestors for others, monsters in the closet or under the bed for children, stray bugs gone unnoticed for many. What loneliness these beings must feel, being the sole keeper of the secrets of the observed, the sole shoulders that carry the weight of each and every story, told or untold. Who, then, observes the lonely?

Perhaps we are destined to become our own observers.

and a little excerpt from a side fic of a longer (novel length) project I've been working on for a while but still doesn't have a name

Nayeli’s touch brings the dying back to life, her lungs breathe the joy back into the world. Myla does the opposite, and she knows it. She’s a destroyer. Nayeli will learn that. “I can’t what?” “Care about me. You can’t. It’ll kill you.” She curses the poison in her veins that exits through her words. “I will drain every last ounce of light from your body, and you are the Sun. Caring about me will corrupt you, layer by layer, until you’re just as bad as I am.” “I don’t think you’re bad,” Nayeli softly states, a smile cracking through her soft lips, lifting her face that Myla can’t seem to look at. “I think the world has made you feel that way.”

I hope you enjoyed these !! I want to start posting writing stuff more but who knows

if I tag you and you've already been tagged I apologize but if not no pressure to join !! if you're not tagged here but want to join I'm also tagging you!! @emily-prentits @daaedoodles @wren-like-thebird 👍👍👍

Hi sweet girl! I don’t feel like I’ve talked to you much lately, so I’m just checking in. Hope you’re doing well!

I’ve seen your posts where you’ve been sharing wips and discussing your fics. It sounds like we’re going to get some Bodhi and Darling soon which is really exciting! And I can’t wait to find out more about Sawyer and Peach 💕 you’re always giving us snippets of the couples you know we’re most excited about, but is there anything you’re particularly excited to share?

-fw-gt

ahh hi love!! I missed u 🥺💗

Bodhi and Darling should hopefully be coming tomorrow or Friday!! I won’t tease that too much, because I want it to be as unexpected for y’all as it is for them, hehe.

but I have some Sawyer and Peach for ya!! I’m obsessed with them. the cutest lil babies ever. I have their whole story outlined and now I just need to make it happen.

some snips, in no particular order:

one:

Forget the fire-breathing beast standing in front of you; the three human men approaching are infinitely more terrifying, capable of much more intricate and abject cruelty than any being on this planet.

two:

“Sawyer…” you whisper, a warning that you’re getting close to something you can’t ever come back from.

He ignores it.

three:

“I have to say, slipping a love letter under my door was a little above and beyond,” you laugh. “How did you know which room was mine?”

He blinks at you, confused. “What letter?”

+ some hints in emoji form:

🍪🐴💫🗡💅🩹🌼🤠🙏🛁

that’s it, because I would literally give it all away if I didn’t rein it in here and exercise some self control — I want some of it to still be a surprise lol

love ya 💗 hope you’re doing well 🥰