#etienne 1

[leedee013]

WIP Wednesday

@justthislazy convinced me to join in @kedreeva 's game this week! Let's see how this goes.

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. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

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.

Here is what I have to offer:

1. Silly Little Jean Moreau Fic 2. Etienne 3. Baby Jean 4. Needle AU

Snippet from Etienne (hopefully) below the cut:

Jean Moreau truly had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. This had been Jeremy’s idea after all, and it made sense on paper. However, knowing that he would benefit from owning a dog was very different from actually getting one. Besides, he’d never even had a pet before. From what the internet told him, it seemed like a mostly pleasant experience. He’d even gotten permission from Coach Rheman to bring a dog along to the stadium, and they were fully prepared to create spaces where an ESA could get away from the noise of the crowd. All he needed now was the actual ESA.

[thalassoneira]

@invxgue

Alessandra was outside the Louvre, a cigarette dangling from her hands as her other hand was occupied with her phone. Hank wasn’t able to make it to the auction, so she was updating him of its events. She had noticed, at some point, across the street was an old friend and one of their fledgling initiates. Their conversation seemed heavy, and so she didn’t interrupt, but she did watch with curiosity as the younger man seemed to flee back into the Louvre, away from Étienne as quickly as seemingly possible. An eyebrow lifted, she crushed her spent cigarette into a pocket ashtray and headed for the Editor. “Étienne, darling,” she greeted, pressing a customary kiss to his cheek, amusement painted all over her expression. “Not that I’ve never had an initiate running away from me in tears, but what did you say to that poor boy?”