Better?

Better from the Rebecca introspective turned Rebecca and Jamie Bad Dads Club - Funeral Edition (working title):

She had broken Sam’s heart. Sweet, pure, kind Sam Obisanya, who quoted Roka to her and whose favourite movie was Ratatouille. A movie, Rebecca would never admit to Keeeley, but a movie she quite enjoyed when she watched it with Sam after a match last week. Sam deserved better than her.

This week’s word is…

✨ SICK ✨

Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

For @ficwip word game wednesday - Nature

From Death Fruit (Jamie allergy fic)

“How do you fucking not realise you are allergic to something?” Roy frowned. Jamie shrugged, eyes blinking tiredly. “Thought it was just nature didn’t I,” he wheezed, “how was sexy baby Jamie supposed to know that fruits weren’t supposed to be tingly?” Roy blinked, brain unable to process the insanity of that statement. “It was only when I had a fruit skewer with kiwi on once at an academy barbeque and my throat went nah mate,” he continued to explain, head slumping against the car door as he began to lose the battle with sleep. “Mummy calls em death fruits now since then. None allowed anywhere near me.” That mentality was going to be adopted club wide now.

Word Game Wednesday:

Alive

Low and somber but with a voice light enough to sit on a feather, Jan informs Jamie, "I respect you, but you did not owe him the decency of being buried. Please do not think you owe him anything else just because you are still alive with more to give. You have given enough."

Weekly WIP Snippet

I'm going to try to start doing these if only to help motivate myself LMAO

For @ficwip’s word ✨SHOUT✨ this week, I present a snippet from my sterek season 2 canon rewrite sequel that I really need to work on LOL

Ft. sterek in club scene w/ himbo scott & danny:

"Dude, everyone here's a dude," was Scott's first astute observation. "I think we're in a gay club."

"Nothing gets past those keen werewolf senses, huh?" said Stiles.

Scott just flashed him a smug smile after getting hit on, practically preening, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Man, Isaac was right," he muttered. "You really are a himbo."

"You're just jealous," said Scott before they split up—Stiles searched for Danny while Scott looked for the kanima.

He debated on whether it was a mistake to wade through this sea of hot, sweaty, dancing people, especially when someone started grinding against him from behind. A shuffle and muffled shout were all Stiles could hear amidst the loud bass before a different set of hips pressed up behind him, large hands settling naturally around Stiles' waist.

Stiles didn't know what it said about him that he immediately knew it was Derek.

Lips brushed against his ear. "Isn't that him over at the counter?" asked Derek in his ear.

Stiles whipped his head around so fast that he accidentally whacked Derek in the chin with the back of his head—Derek glared at him before practically bulldozing him out of the crowd towards Danny, who seemed to be watching another man practically making out with someone else with a dejected expression.

"Hey, Danny!" Stiles swung an arm on his shoulder. "Fancy seeing you here!"

Danny glanced at him, then Derek, then him again. "I'm finding out a lot about you today," he said. 

"Well, you're about to find out more," shouted Stiles over the music. "I need to talk to you somewhere quieter."

Danny paused. "Uh, sorry, but I'm not into threesomes."

Stiles' mind blanked as his mouth flapped open and closed.

Derek, on the other hand, placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder and flashed a grin at Danny that was more a baring of his teeth. "Did we ask?"

"...I guess not, not with the way you beat that guy up," muttered Danny.

Stiles snapped back to reality. "Wait, you beat a guy up? What?"

"Yeah, just now," said Danny. "Y'know, the guy you were dancing with."

Derek crossed his arms. "He was in my way, so I moved him out of the way."

"Yeah right, moved him so hard that his nose started bleeding," said Danny with a snort.

Stiles gaped at Derek—he’d never admit that his stomach fluttered everytime Derek’s possessiveness flared. “Wha—”

Weekly Tag Wednesday Thursday

Thanks for the game @jrooc and thanks for the tag @blue-disco-lights @deedala @energievie @lingy910y @creepkinginc @crestfallercanyon

Name: Mys

What is the most listened to artist in your music app of choice this month?

The Libertines - They’ve just released a new album

What song do you know all the lyrics to?

Erm… most? Well, at least most songs I regularly listen to. Back in the day when we’d still buy CDs I would get a new album and sit in my bedroom listening to it beginning to end, while reading along to the lyrics in the booklet. And oooooh, I would get so furious when bands had a booklet that did not include song lyrics. Wtf is wrong with you?? SO ANGRY! haha

What song do you pretend to know all the lyrics to and sing along to even though you don't?

It’s the End of the World As We Know It by R.E.M. I get to ‘eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn’ and then I’m lost until we hit the chorus lol But it’s such a fun song to pretend to sing along to, and really just making vaguely appropriate noises at the right time, until the chorus kicks in again… and of course we’re all ready to shout LEONARD BERNSTEIN! Hahaha

If you were to be crowned Queen/King/Royalty of listening to a band or artist, who would that be?

That would have to be Dirty Pretty Things. I fell in love with The Libertines just as they were falling apart and a few weeks away from calling it quits for good, so when Carl Barât announced the first tour of his new band Dirty Pretty Things I wasn’t gonna miss out again. So I flew to Ireland and then to England and attended the first 5 gigs of their first tour. And that pretty much set the tone for the next couple of years of my life. I ended up flying to the UK so much and meeting so many people that in the end it only made sense to move to London. Dirty Pretty Things had a tour booked starting two days after my moving day and we were gonna go to a few of the gigs. Then the day before I got on a plane they announced it would be their farewell tour, so we bought tickets for every single gig, which meant that I moved to the UK and then spent all of October, November, and half of December on tour… I didn’t start job hunting and thinking about real life until January lol

So yeah. Them. They’re my boys. As coined by the NME in their ‘sad to see them go’ article… “They were well fit and nice!”

What band/artist surprises you the most on your frequently listened to artists?

I’m ongoingly surprised by how much I managed to trick myself into liking Taylor Swift

Favourite line from a song (or one you have been thinking about lately?

Fame and Fortune by The Libertines

The deal was done, the trade was rough, Doubloons down for a double bluff, Dip your quill in your bleeding heart, Sign there and there and there

Guilty pleasure band or song?

I don’t believe in guilty pleasures.

Liking what I like don’t make me a bitch.

Okay let's talk fandom music:

Fave band or song you've discovered from a Fan Fic?

The Libertines lol My friend really wanted me to get into this band she liked, and I just wasn’t massively into music at the time, so she sent me a Libertines fanfic, and that, as they say, was that. Oh, she knew me very well… hahah

Fave Fanfic Playlist?

Right now I’m REALLY into The Menagerie playlist!

Fave Gallavich song?

Do you listen to music recommended by the writer or an included playlist? 

Almost always, yeah. Though sometimes that can go terribly wrong. When someone’s like OMG THIS SONG!!! and you’re just like ‘eh, I don’t see it’ lol

What song do you think is Gallavich coded?

Well, thanks to @deedala this will never not be Season 5 Gallavich

What’s a bop you want to share with your mutuals today? 

Love the original, but I also love Darren Criss

And this, because I’m dying for the next season of The Bear!!!!

Oooookay… I’m late and I’ve been way too busy, so if you’ve already played and I didn’t see please tag me in yours so I can check it out!! If not, and you’d like to do it, I’m tagging @heymacy @heymrspatel @darlingian @too-schoolforcool @palepinkgoat @vintagelacerosette @crossmydna @captainjowl @mikhailoisbaby @rereadanon @the-rat-wins @tsuga-of-mars @loftec @sickness-health-all-that-shit @deathclassic @rutherinahobbit @faejilly (you can skip the Gallavich questions!!! Hahahahah)

'Pour' is the Ficwip word this week. This is from the first chapter of Maybe This Trophy isn't Real Love (I'm Good Enough) where Jamie visits his dad in rehab.

It's a welcome reprieve from the awkwardness for both of them as his dad goes to the kettle on a unit in the corner and busies himself with making tea for two. Neither of them say anything while they wait for the kettle to boil but as his dad pours the water into two mugs he freezes. “Um.. I don’t- how’d you like your tea, son?” He asks, hesitantly and without looking at Jamie, eyes fixed on the mugs in front of him. Because that was something you were supposed to know, right? How your family members took their tea? You shouldn’t need to ask them, like they’re strangers, or guests that come over so infrequently that you can’t remember their preferences.

I want to do a bit more planning and plotting on this one, but I'm thinking I might start posting it next month.

WIP Wednesday :3

Tagged by the wonderful @lovelylonerliterature who shared a David/Asher fic! You can see their WIP Wednesday here <33 Tagging: @sainthowlzon @agentplutonium @pinksparkl and anyone else who wants to participate! This is an NSFW snippet (nothing explicit here but just in case) - Hopefully this'll be done soon! It's based on art gifted to me by the lovely @nortyourself for the Sky Side holiday exchange!

Angel rocked back on their heels, staring up at their mate and the thing in their hands feeling like it weighed a ton. The metal bars dug into their palms as they gripped it, running their fingers over leather straps. They bit their lip as they watched David’s face, a mask of nonchalance, waiting for a response. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, brow furrowed. Angel sighed and looked away from his face, at the small pile of clothes on the ground. 

He’d looked startled when they pulled it out of their nightstand drawer, both of them half undressed. The muzzle was nice, with strong leather and a heavy metal cage. It wasn’t often that the two of them switched their typical roles, not that either was complaining, but Angel had the idea in the back of their mind for more than a little while and decided to shoot their shot. 

Now, standing here with him staring at the muzzle in their hands, they felt regret bubbling up. They started to move it behind their back, taking a step back from him. He grabbed their arm, hand wrapping around their wrist easily. They looked back up at his face, his expression more relaxed now. 

“Okay. Let’s try it.” Angel’s face broke into a grin and they took his hand, pulling it off their wrist, and tugged him towards a chair they’d dragged into the bedroom from the dining room.

Word Game Wednesday

@ficwip 💛

He stands and pulls them all the way up, letting the elastic waist snap against himself. They feel tight, tighter than he's used to, but they feel good. He feels good, confident. He looks in the mirror to check how he looks. Oh! That's… he wasn't expecting that.

No pressure tags @flowertrigger @a-noble-dragon @smblmn @beaiola @trickiwooao3 @demora00 @goodiecornbread @jamilas-pen @wordthieve @smallumbrella369 @wearpersistencewell @stereopticons @apothecarose @chelle-68 @alienajackson @mammameesh @characterassassination-at-9am @jettestar @obsessedwithdavrick @statueinthestone @bl-anche73 @russolaw @carolrain @tyfinn @fictasticvoyage @queenmabcreates and anyone else who wants to play 🩷

💜✨🖤WIP Wednesday🖤✨💜

Tagged by @dreamwatch, a week or so ago (or possibly more), sorry it took a bit but I always love a tag game so: thank you!

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

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.

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

✨Filenames:

fuck google sideways with a toffee apple on a stick; pt 12

psychiatric greenhouse 

to sacrifice a human heart

siren song

feeling freezes

Snippet, snippet, snippet...okay, let's go #5:

“How’d you know?” They’re driving to the gate Eddie made, the one he came through to start with—close the loop, that’d had been the justification, when all Eddie wanted was to rip open the world from where the new trailer sat in hopes it’d budge, that it’d let him through and give him Steve when he landed, where Eddie could fall into him and save him and maybe save himself, too, the part inside his own chest that’s been throbbing like a wound, open and weeping since Eddie came through and Steve wasn’t here. But, he’s okay with sticking to the plan. Taking no unnecessary chances. Playing this close to the books, at least to until they go off-script and burn the fucker down. However. However, Eddie would like to lodge…not a compliant, per se. Not exactly a complaint. A complaint is very one-dimensional. He’d be more interested in, like…whatever the instantaneous-immediate version of a Strongly Worded Letter is. Because his words wouldn’t allbe complaining words, exactly, but they would all be very very strong. Because this is the fun fucking thing: they’d apparently driven Robin to the cabin in the goddamn squad-car. As in: the fuzz-mobile belonging to none other than one Chief Back-From-the-Dead, Eddie’s favorite law enforcement professional who’s definitely taken him for a spin in this here vehicle more than once, involving far more irritation and threat than anything else, including what was honestly a disappointingly low actual number of incidents involving handcuffs. “Robin does not drive, because Robin does not have a car. Steve,” El had explained as she’d climbed in and made no mistake that Eddie was to follow: “Steve helped her get her license, because he needed another driver,” and yeah, okay, right. Because, for a brief window that seemed much bigger, much longer, much more life-changing than its timeframe should have been capable of and yet: for a brief window? Eddie had been a fully-capable—if not always comfortable for the more sensitive types among his passengers—‘other driver’. And then Eddie’d been gone. Fuck.

As ever, some no-pressure tags (and ignore if you're not writing OR have already been tagged): @steddiely @vthx @penny00dreadful. @markcat @gutterflower77 and legitimately anyone who wants to participate, tag me so I can see your words, too! 🖤

Word Game Wednesday - "Mine"

__

When Price speaks again, his voice is low enough that John has to strain to hear him.

"I feel responsible. I knew something was going on between you two. I should've put a stop to it."

"Wouldnae have made a difference. I was gone on 'im long afore anything happened 'tween us."

"Still—"

"No' yer fault, Cap. S'mine for bein' a goddamned fool, and Simon's for makin' me think he..."

John lets the words trail away, but the unspoken ending screams inside his head and stabs into the tender flesh around his shredded makeshift heart all the same. He pushes his glass forward and raises his hand, motioning to the bartender for another.

When you don’t have the word of the week \_(ツ)_/¯ again.

This week’s word is…

🎶 SONG 🎶

Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

@ficwip word of the day is Sick. I am 2.5k into my RoyJamie sick fic so I gotta

“Ah Jamie Tartt, I woke you. Is this bench more comfortable than your mattress. My mattress is padded with the down of a specific type of goose only found in Columbia. It allows me to continue to look this rested unlike you currently look,” Zava commented, staring at Jamie like an eagle with a mouse in its sights. “Fuck you.” Jamie’s voice made all of the coaches hum in realisation. The two hostile words croaked out of Jamie’s mouth with such a crack that they sounded painful. His tongue twitched out to moisten his lips, dry from just that level of action, and his breathing now had a whistling wheeze accompanying each breath. Jamie was sick as a dog.

Word Game Wednesday:

Sick

Note: I'm very sure I've posted some of this one before, so to make up for it I'm just posting it in a bigger chunk :D

Someone’s hand was on the crown of his head. It was a nice hand, warm. It moved softly, brushing his fringe back from his forehead so the owner could examine Jamie’s face. “Amigo?” Dani. Something hot seized at the core of him, and Jamie struggled to keep his face blank. To keep his eyes closed and keep Dani from realizing he was awake, because if he did then he’d stop and- Fuck, he missed Dani. “I think he is waking. Jamie, can you hear me?” A new hand joined Dani’s. This one cooler to the touch, with gentle knuckles that tested the temperature of Jamie’s skin, and now the burning feeling was building behind his eyes, because as badly as he didn’t want to get up, who was he to disappoint Sam Obisanya? “Yeah, I’m fine." His voice didn't come out right; all gruff and clogged, sounded like he was putting on his best Roy Kent impression. “Must’ve dozed off for a moment, but don’t worry I didn’t lose any time. We can keep going—“ Sam’s hand on his chest stopped him from getting up. “We are in the treatment room.” What? Jamie tried to open his eyes, only to squeeze them shut with a sharp gasp. “Hold on. I will get you something,” Sam said softly. He left, and Dani hovered closer, murmuring quietly in Spanish -- Jamie knew enough of them now to know they were curse words. Bit of a secret between them, that.

Fuck, he missed Dani. He reached up, trying to find some bit of Dani to hold onto - wrist or arm or even a hip - anything that would afford him a grip and keep him nearby, where Jamie needed him. Familiar and calloused, Dani's caught his hand of his own freewill. His thumb rubbed circles over the back of his knuckles. “Shhhh. Shhhh. It’s alright, amigo.” Was Jamie making a noise? “Here we are,” Sam’s voice returned, and that was all the warning that he had before a cold towel was laid across his forehead. Jamie groaned. A tear leaked out of the corner of his eye, dripping into his hair. He couldn’t be bothered to wipe it away. He hadn't realised how much it was hurt until a little relief made it worse. “Fuck. Do I have a concussion?” “No,” the dual answer came quickly, without hesitation.

"Then what?"

"You passed out from low blood sugar, you twit."

Jamie jumped. He hadn't even noticed Roy was in the room. He tried to open his eyes, only to turn away when the light stabbed him for his efforts. Sam readjusted the towel on his head, and Jamie tried to bat him away -- not because he didn't want him there, but because he needed to sit up, needed to get back out there, couldn't stay down when Roy expected him at training-

A sharp pinch caught him in the crook of his elbow. He hissed, inspecting the spot where the IV port was plugged into his arm until the feel of the needle under his skin made him queasy and he had to look away.

Sam made that tick noise he did with his teeth when he was disappointed. It made Jamie want to crawl under a blanket. He didn't even have a blanket. Dani gently maneuvered him until he was lying back down. The damp towel hadn't even budged from his head.

"You also have a bump on your temple," Sam explained gently.

"And a fever," Roy growled.

"You should have told us you were sick." Great, now even Dani sounded like he was frowning.

Outnumbered, Jamie fought through the throbbing pain behind his eyes to argue his case: “But we have Leeds tomorrow.”

"Jamie," sighed Sam. "They are at the bottom of the table."

Dealer’s choice 🙏🤍🌸

‘I see that not even a concussion can take away from you that staring problem'

WIP Wednesday 10/18/23 (Closed) | Dealer's Choice: Pretty Boy

"Well, you're in good hands Mr. Josten." The Doctor says with a light smile seemingly unbothered by being interrupted twice.

Andrew could almost say he doesn't mind the man.

"Well then we can discharge you to your friend's care." The Doctor says and Andrew scowls. "I'll bring the paperwork." he says and the Doctor and nurse leave.

In the silence of the room Andrew looks down and sees Neil staring up at him, pupils dilated despite the light. "I see that not even a concussion can take away that staring problem of yours." Andrew says thumb running along the back of Neil's hand.

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