WIP Wednesday [2020-01-29]

[thrillingdetectivetales]

WIP WEDNESDAY!



You all know the drill by now: trot out a piece of a work in progress you’re particularly proud of or crowdsource your troubles among the rest of the talented so-and-so’s in HBOWar fandom! Chat about creation in general or get into the nitty gritty of word choice in this one sentence that just isn’t quite clicking.

Go forth, you beautiful babies, and let’s build each other up!

Comments

[slightlytookish]

I'm working on my rare pair exchange fic so I can't say much but I could use some encouragement if anyone has any to spare? I started this fic, hated everything I wrote, and deleted it three times already. I'm REALLY hoping that the fourth time is the charm.

Andy/Eddie

[muccamukk]

Having ALL the feels about these two, and really want to do the reunion fic prompted in the LLSS newsletter. I'm thinking Burgin's PoV.

However, I'm trying to get at least a draft of my fic for rairpair done before I write anything else.

However, however, I'm still poking away at the There Was Only One Bed fic, which got sort of off the rails with the sex scene, so I need to go back and rewrite a bunch, but here's a bit from earlier in:

When he came back into their cramped room, Hillbilly was sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees. He wasn't slumped, but sitting at rest. When Andy closed and bolted the door, Hillbilly looked up, teeth flashing white in the dark. "Figure I oughta sleep on the floor after all, sir," he said.

Andy took a breath, tasting the air, which was cool and smelling faintly of eucalyptus pollen. The room was very dark, dark in a way that Andy hadn't known before wartime blackouts. The bit of moonlight coming in through the curtains showed only the outline of Eddie's body. Andy hesitated over the light switch, wondering if it would be easier to have this out in the dark or when he could read Hillbilly's expression. In the end, he left the light off, and went to sit at the head of the bed, leaving enough space between their bodies to seem decorous. "Worried about your virtue?" he asked carefully.

Hillbilly's head dropped forward as his hissed out a breath through his teeth. It wasn't quite a laugh. "Worried about yours, more like, sir. Can't account for something I don't know I'm doing."

It wasn't a confession, but it skirted close to being one. Andy imagined Hillbilly weighing the options: how much he trusted Andy, how much he was potentially risking, what there might be to gain. Or was that wishful thinking on Andy's part? Was Hillbilly worried that Andy might read the tension between them in a way Hillbilly did not intend, and make an unwelcome and potentially ruinous advance?

"I'm long past the age where I've any virtue left to trouble me," Andy said finally. "Though I am troubled by the possibility of stepping on you on the way to the head. It's up to you." Again, he felt like he was balancing on that ridge, close to getting somewhere, but with a precipice on either side, and Hillbilly stuck up there with him.

[kaasknot]

the end is in sight! i spent a good chunk of today hashing out scene configurations to make the ending of my current baberoe wip tie up the loose ends i need tied. i've got maybe... 9? more scenes to go? give or take the whims of inspiration.

\o/

[thrillingdetectivetales]

A little late to the party, but I started poking at a Golden Age superhero AU a couple weeks ago when I was down in the dumps and needed to cheer myself up a little bit, so have reporters Web and Johnny Martin facing off about a new hero in their local hotspot of Chicago:

“What new cape?” Johnny asked, risking a narrow glance up at Webster.

Webster hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “The guy down in Riverdale.”

Johnny huffed a sigh, shuffling his notes into a neat, if still slightly sodden, stack before leaning back in his chair. He folded his hands in his lap and arched an eyebrow up at Webster, who was doing a decent impression of looking amiably earnest without any ulterior motive, though Johnny knew him well enough by now to be sure that there was some darker purpose lurking under the surface of this exchange.

“Ain’t no guy in Riverdale."

“No?” Webster asked, eyebrows quirking. “You sure about that? My source tells me he stopped a corner store robbery a couple days ago and trussed up a mugger last night, left him outside the local precinct.”

Johnny tapped his thumbs together and put his head to one side, considering. Hand-delivery wasn’t quite the man’s style, but he suggested, “We got the Tin Soldier in Hegewisch. That who you’re thinking of?”

“No,” Webster shook his head, squinting in thought. “No, this guy is definitely in Riverdale. Dresses up like a - ” he swirled a hand around in the air, “ - a cowboy or something?”

“I don’t think so,” Johnny said. “We only got a handful of capes in the Windy City, and don’t none of ‘em look like they just walked in off the range.”

“Maybe you missed one,” Webster offered with a shrug.

Johnny stared him down and held up a hand with one finger outstretched. “There’s the Tin Soldier, like I said.” He unfurled another finger, and then another, and another as he listed off names. “You got the Baron working the Gold Coast and that guy in Lakeview that can change shapes.” The shape-shifter was new enough to the Chicago scene that he hadn’t earned a moniker, yet, but folks up there seem to like him so Johnny doubted it would be long now. “Then you got All-Star in Old Town, and Fleetfoot and the Green Knight in Canaryville. That’s all the capes we got.” He considered for a second and conceded, “Except for maybe a guy out in Grant Park.” He raised a hand and see-sawed it back and forth. “But I ain’t found him yet, if he even exists at all.”

A muscle in Webster’s cheek twitched when Johnny mentioned Grant Park but he didn’t say anything about it, just pulled his mouth down into an exaggerated frown and gave a little shrug. “Huh,” he sighed. “Well. My mistake, I guess.” He flashed Johnny a small, self-satisfied smirk. “Sorry to interrupt your morning.”

[impala_chick]

So I may or may not be attempting to write the Webgott Sharknado AU that was one of the Loose Lips Sink Ships memorial prompts this time...