#glitterwips

[theglitteringtrio]

wip wednesday friday very late and for last week as well

big big thank you to my lovely lovely mutuals for tagging me @butchbradshaw @jakekernerkazansky @welcometololaland @seresiinner @tgmsunmontue @stars-of-nixie <3

here is a snippet from the last chapter of disney princess!bradley which i will be posting sometime after i finish my thesis in the next 30 days lol

Bradley nudges Jake's shin under the table with his foot. "You okay?" he yawns. "Yeah." Jake croaks out a bit too fast. He takes a sip of lukewarm coffee before speaking again, "Just adjusting to your adventurous lifestyle." Bradley smiles faintly at that, soft around the edges from exhaustion. They eat in silence for another minute. Then, casually, like it just flew into his brain, "By the way," Bradley says, playing with the handle of the mug, "the farmer's wife tried to set me up." Jake's spoon pauses mid- air. Cool. This was cool. "Oh yeah?" "Mm hmm." Bradley scoops another bit of oatmeal. "Her daughter, I think? Or granddaughter. I don't remember, was too busy trying not to get kicked in the face." Jake takes a slow sip of coffee to buy himself half a second. He keeps his face smooth. "So what did you tell her?"

not tagging anyone since im so late this time :(((( but here have this gif

[theglitteringtrio]

snippet sunday and catchup for missed wip wednesday!

thank you sm for tagging me @stars-of-nixie @butchbradshaw @welcometololaland and @jakekernerkazansky <3

I AM OFFICIALLY BACK TO WRITING SINCE MY THESIS IS DONE!!! yippieee! here you go with a snippet from chapter 5 of confessions :)

The first time Bradley saw a spirit was from his hospital bed. It hadn't been scary, at least he didn't really remember it that way. The things he did remember were his mother's trembling hands, carefully smoothing a few damp strands of hair from his forehead and her voice. It was shaky and barely audible over the dull pounding of a headache and the pain of his sore limbs. He remembered the relief that had washed over her puffy face and the way she pressed a soft kiss next to the IV cannula on the top of his hand. And right behind her, almost hidden behind her halo of blond curls, there was a man in the corner of his room. Right next to the door. He looked right at Bradley. Grey and silent. But even eleven-year-old Bradley knew that the man he was holding eye contact with wasn't supposed to be here. The man didn't seem scary or threatening. He was still, and wrong, and so so so pale. But he didn't look particularly strange other than that. It was more of the opposite, really- Bradley knew exactly who he was. It was the man from the photograph on Mom's bedside table. And the same mustached face that looked down on him from the pictures in the living room. The same man that existed in every story his uncles and mom had told him when they spoke about Nick Bradshaw. His dad. At the time, he happily fell back asleep. It was a miracle after all! He got hurt, badly enough for his mom to cry, and somehow his dad came back. It seemed all so simple- so childish. And was entirely wrong. Only years later had Nick Bradshaw admitted that he hadn't thought that spirits were able to feel the terror he felt that day. Death, clearly, couldn't cure anyone of being a worried parent. Bradley's brush with some ancient spirit and following accident had scared the absolute shit out of him, and discovering that his tiny eleven-year-old son could now suddenly see him and other spirits only made this worse. There had been no celebration from Nick's side. He wasn't even close to believing this was the opportunity for a joyful reunion. Instead, he got increasingly more worried that with each passing day, Bradley still seemed to be able to see him. At least that's what his dad told him.

[theglitteringtrio]

wip wednesdayyyy thursday

thank you for tagging me @welcometololaland @jakekernerkazansky and @stars-of-nixie <3

whats up guys :) I'm back with my writing exercise!

13th November My name is Lt. Robert "Bob" Floyd. I'm 30 years old and I was born on the 06.04. 1989. I am currently on the Navy Carrier USS Abraham Lincoln and we have been without contact to anyone on land in eight days. Our last mission finished on the 6th of November, and ended with the destruction of a possible uranium storage facility. The last 24 hours have been crazy and inexplicable things have happened. I don't know if we caused this or if this is the absolute worst timing in the entire world, but something is going around the carrier and it's spreading fast. It seems like some sort of mutated flu or virus or something, I don't know. Rooster and Maverick do not seem to have it so it must have been on the ship when we left for the mission. Cyclone is being incredibly tightlipped about everything. I'm not even sure why I'm writing all of this down but I don't know what else to do right now. My grandfather used to tell me about a diary he kept while he was stuck in the wilderness on a camping trip that prevented him from going coo-coo and since I seemed to have inherited his anxious tendencies I might as well write this down if this turns serious. I'm not sure if this is for me to look back on when everything is normal again tomorrow morning or for whoever finds this if we're not getting out of this. We are currently barricaded in the canteen. It's been way over 24 hours. I feel sick to my stomach, but I'm sure it's just nerves. We're all unsettled since the higher ranks aren't explaining anything. By "we" I mean me and about 80 other people. All names will be on the next Page. Okay I guess that's it. (...) 14 November My name is Lt. Robert "Bob" Floyd. I'm 30 years old and I was born on the 06.04. 1989. I am currently on the Navy Carrier USS Abraham Lincoln and we have been without contact to anyone on land in nine days. Well it's been 48 hours now, or maybe less, I'm not sure but things have only gotten crazier. There is definitely some virus going around that is making people act like they lost their minds. I know this sounds out of this world but from what I've seen its like a mix between a cold and rabies. Cyclone let people with fevers be escorted to medical but we're still stuck in the cafeteria for now. Nat isn't holding up well at the moment she's freaking out (like most of us, especially me) but Rooster is trying to help us both through this. I've told both of them about this notebook, and if anything were to happen I made them promise to continue it. I'll write more if anything else happens today.

hehehe apocalpyse post tgm here we go :)

not tagging anyone again because im late but ill try to be more punctual next week!!!!!

[theglitteringtrio]

wip wednesday!!!!! yay

thank you for the tag @pampelushka <33

i got a thesis extension approved (pray i can finish this evil academic paper before it kills me also i start therapy tomorrow so lots of things have been happening with me) anyways here is part of disney princess bradley chapter 4 :))

It all felt different when it was just text messages and calls blurring into the months of getting used to being reassigned. He still vividly remembered the time that Bradley had accepted his call from his back porch and whispered the entire time because he had a half-sedated skunk lying at his feet and didn't want to risk getting sprayed by spooking it. It hadn't felt like this then. Or the time Bradley had forgotten to eat for almost two days because he had to operate on an acquaintance's border collie that was hit by a car, and Jake had listened to him breathe through exhausted tears he pretended were a cold. Even the night that Bradley had texted him from the concrete floors of the clinic, sitting beside the kennels, insisting he just wanted to "make sure everything was fine" with a dog that probably wouldn't make it through the next few hours. Jake had admired him for all of it. He had found it endearing. Bradley had been something good and noble, he could admire from a safe distance. It had all been different when the only thing connecting them was a phone screen. It hadn't felt like this. He had no buffer of distance or delay filled with static. It was just him and the empty space Bradley had left behind now.

previous chapters are here

soft no pressure tagging: @ellemnopie @jakekernerkazansky @stars-of-nixie @butchbradshaw @aviatorsnoopy @sonnywrites

[theglitteringtrio]

it's a late wip wednesday again!

I've migrained all day yesterday and was therefore out of commission, but here goes a little heated rivalry wip I recently worked on centering around ilya/alexei rozanov siblingism

"I liked having a brother." He pauses, smoothing down his sweater's sleeve. "I don't know if he liked it. But I did. And at school, no one would try to bully me because Alexei would punch them if they did." "Wow," Shane says, nudging Ilya's foot with his own. "So that's where you learned it. Makes sense." Shane drops into a terrible accent, "Big scary Russian protector-" Ilya laughs, "Shut up." "…very aggressive, very loyal-" A quiet chuckle slips out of him before he smiles at Shane. "Maybe," Ilya says. He can't really help but remember the many, many times Alexei had stood in front of him in the schoolyard, or on their street's soccer field. He had seemed huge then, all puffed up, red-faced and angry, ready to shove some older boy hard enough to make him fall backwards onto the ground. Ilya had only ever seen Alexei's back during those fights, young enough to happily cower behind his big brother. Back then his big brother was like a wall between him and whoever decided to pick on him that day. Even back then, which was probably way too early, Ilya noticed that his brother stunk of cigarettes and cheap gum. Every time Alexei slung his arm across Ilya's shoulders, he could make out the bitter scent sticking to the sleeve of his brother's clothes and his fingers. It was always there, even in his memories. Permanently scorched into his brain, just like it was in the windowsill of Alexei's childhood bedroom, in Ilya's too, in every space around them. When Shane asked him once, Ilya had staggered at the question, but he truly could not remember why he first started smoking. There was a big empty part of his brain that refused to remember whether it had been rebellion, boredom, or maybe a desperate attempt to recreate a feeling of familiarity. He also couldn't remember if he had chosen it or if it had been an accident when he picked up that first pack of cigarettes. They had been the cheapest ones he saw. He remembers staring at the red and white package. They looked just like they always did in Alexei's back pocket. He recognized the familiar brand instantly. Столичная. When he brought them to meet his friends, Svetlana always used to laugh about the name. A Moscow boy smoking stolichnye cigarettes. 'Capital cigarettes for her capital boy back home.' Even when he finally came to America, it had been that same red and white box again. He remembers standing inside the gas station closest to Marleau's house, staring at all the packs of cigarettes behind the cashier, and for some crazy reason thinking, "Ah, I finally found you again." Of course, it hadn't been a pack of Stolichnye. It had been Marlboro's. They tasted a lot better. Less harsh, less like dirt, less like blood in the back of his throat. Less like home. Fuck, his fingers were itching just thinking about it. Instead of spending another second missing the rush of nicotine, Ilya just drags his hands across his face and sighs. "I think…" He starts, shaking his head as if to shake the memory out. "If my father had not been such an asshole, maybe it would have been different now."

And don't you guys worry, I am not an Andrej/Alexei apologist at all. I just find it hard to believe that that level of anger could come from no relationship at all...... Alexej Rozanov trust, I will be dealing with you.......

okay no tags again this week because i am late :((((( im so so sorryyyy

[theglitteringtrio]

its's wip wednesday again!

thank you sm for tagging me @tgmsunmontue @welcometololaland and @pampelushka <3

i have been too busy with loosing my mind over my thesis and this months letterglow fic which will be a pt2 to c'est toi so sadly no game this week :((

"I forgot about this," Jake says, taking a sip of coffee. That ridiculous effect Bradley had on animals had been the last thing on his mind this morning. The bird in Nat's yard felt like it happened a long time ago- Bradley tilts his head, the morning light softly illuminating his smile. "Forgot about what?" Jake snorts and gestures vaguely towards the yard. "You being a Disney Prince and all…" He huffs into his mug. "They're just deer." "Ten deer," Jake says, watching as one of them steps closer to the fence, still completely relaxed and chewing on a bush. "They come by most mornings this time of year," Bradley says, still leaning against him, as if that explained anything. "Whatever, Snow White." Bradley just smiles into his coffee. Jake eyes the deer again and thinks, considering what he says next. "I bet you could go right up to one and pet one of em" Bradley glances sideways at him, his eyes twinkling at the challenge. "Oh yeah?" "Yep." "What are we betting?" "…If you actually pet one," he says slowly, "I'll blow you in the kitchen." Bradley pauses. Then a slow and very satisfied smile spreads across his face. "Alright," he says, setting his coffee down. "You're on."

sorrrry if I double-tagged anyone, sending much love to all of you: @ellemnopie @jakekernerkazansky @butchbradshaw @crimsonredraccoon @shealwaysreads @halestrom @themagiician @prollybradshaw

[theglitteringtrio]

wip weekend since i can't seem to post on wednesday EVER

thank you sm for tagging me @welcometololaland @stars-of-nixie @sonnywrites and @jakekernerkazansky i appreciate it sm <3 !!!

Okay, here goes part of the final chapter for Disney Princess Bradley :) I had to add the besties calling each other since I'd also be furiously calling my best friend if i was totally-not-falling-for-my-hookup lol

"Dude, you are so fucked." "Shut up, Javy," Jake sighs into his phone. He was out on the porch, the glass of wine from dinner still in his hand. After the rather tense ride home from Sally's ranch and his third shower of the day, which genuinely made Jake worry for Bradley's water bill, dinner had been a much more relaxed affair. They had stood side by side prepping some oven-baked salmon and a salad, laughing and touching and not thinking about how complicated the thing between them could become. But as soon as Bradley stepped out to bring the rest of the salmon over to Nat's parents, who, as Jake learned ten minutes ago, still lived right across the street, the sweetness of his plan to stay longer turned sour. And in a moment of panic and the realization that someone would have to watch Cat for six more days, he instinctively called Javy. Who, to Jake's detriment, seems delighted by his best friend's suffering. "No man, what do you mean you agreed to stay until Wednesday-" Javy says, before his barking laugh overtakes the speaker. "It's not a big deal, Javy! Can you take care of Cat for a few more days?" Jake hears Javy gasp for air on the other end of the line. "Oh, I'm gonna pee myself-" his best friend manages to say between breaths. "Fuck off, man!" "No, I love this for you, bud," Javy explains, still laughing. "I'll take care of Catherine for a few more days, no issue. But are you sure your weird therapist talk about expanding your comfort zone didn't just relocate it into the guy's house? Will you be coming home?" "Jeez…" Jake sighs into the phone. "Listen, man, I'm happy for you. Nat showed me the pic of you two horn dogs all cuddled up in the grocery store. He's clearly good for you- " "Horndogs?" Jake asks, sputtering. "Wait, why and how the fuck did Nat show you that?" "That's irrelevant-" "Javy." "She slept over, okay?" "Finally, man, you've only been begging her for like six months by now, that's a new record for you, man." "Oh fuck you, Jake. She was so pissed off this morning I was barely able to talk her out of driving up there herself. And I was actually planning to tell you that you seem happier since you and Bradley started talking, but I think I'll just keep that to myself now." Jake swallows and sighs. "Yeah maybe…" he eventually says. "Man, this is good. At least it seems that way." "I mean yeah, it probably is." "Isn't it? Is he treating you right?" "Yeah, yeah, no, he's fucking perfect, man. All day yesterday I wondered if I fucking died in my sleep and went to gay situationship heaven or something." Jake sighs into the phone. "Bud, I don't think people over twenty-five have situationships anymore." "They don't?" "No." "Fuck, what the fuck am I doing here, Javy?"

Heheh hope you liked it:) gentle reminder that capter 1-3 are already up and you can read it here ✭

Also my playlist for this last chapter is legit two songs which are

Sunsetter by Calum Hood & Wild Things by Ashton Irwin #cashtonwin

[theglitteringtrio]

very very late wip wednesday!

thank you so much for tagging me @jakekernerkazansky and @butchbradshaw <3

here is a snippet from pt. 2 of my vet!bradley aka disney princess au

Jake groggily fumbles for his phone. 3:27 am. "What the fuck," he breathes before pushing the blinding screen facedown on the wooden dresser, exhales heavily and lets his head fall into the blue pillow face first. Slayer's quiet snores from the dog bed on the other side of the room almost echo in his head. "Bradley…?" Jake calls into the dark house, still blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he shuffles towards the hallway. He finds him halfway up the stairs again, trying to fix the collar of his jacket, his brown curls lying flat at the back and sticking up at weird angles. Also, with his phone pressed against his ear. "No, no, no, I'm on my way," Bradley says voice tight, before exhaling an angry breath. "Don't do anything. I'm coming." He says in the same tone before he hangs up and meets Jake at the top of the stairs. "Sorry for waking you. Go back to bed." Bradley quickly says, pecking his temple before turning around again. Jake grabs his arm and squints before Bradley can walk down the stairs again. "What's happening?" For half a second, his face softens, and instead of the stormy look, there was nothing but pure warmth in Bradley's face. His hands slide under the hem of Jake's sleep shirt almost automatically, before he presses a quick kiss to his mouth. Bradley hesitates. Sighs. Looks at Jake. "Some fucking idiot is threatening to shoot his sheep and possibly a lamb if I don't come," Bradley mutters, beginning his descent down the stairs. "He said something about a broken leg and how he has no time to bottle feed." The sudden look of panic in Bradley's movements pushed the last remnants of sleep away. Jake can see the worry coursing through him. "Is he fucking stupid?" Jake asks, following Bradley across the cold tiles towards the mudroom downstairs in his pajamas. "It seems that way," Bradley says, as he attempts to shove his feet into his boots. "The wonders of livestock veterinary medicine." (...) Jake leaned against the wall, arms folded tightly against his chest. "Do you want me to come with you?" Bradley stops at that. Actually freezes. He then looks up like Jake just offered him something precious. His eyes go soft, in that stupid gooey soft way, that they had no time for right now. "You'd do that?" Bradley huffs as his foot finally slips into the boot. "You already woke me up, Bradshaw."

okay hehehe thats it for now. It's a part from bang in the middle of the fic so lmao :) enjoy no context fluffy kinda panicky hansgter

(not tagging anyone since i am so crazy late!)