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#300x3
klaineharmony · 8 months
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Tell me about something you're writing, a story idea, headcannon for a favorite ship, or thoughts on a show, movie, and/or Broadway show. What's been going through your brain begging to be let out during your very swamped year? Share your joy and/or angst with us. :)
Hello, dear friend! Thank you for this ask. As much as I want to come up with a writing/fandom/reintroduction meme (and I will try), having a question to direct my thoughts helps a lot.
What am I writing? Well, the easy answer is "nothing," as I haven't touched my stories in so long - but I am hoping to change that! Life has not allowed for fandom writing in a long time, but I'm going to try and ease back in, and see if I can get back into my 300x3 habit - 300 words, 3 times a week. It was good for me before and helped me move through a lot of stories, so maybe it will be good for me again.
That said, maybe the better question is "What am I thinking about writing?" And that list is long, but some things are closer to the top of the queue than others.
The first thing is actually part of a series. I started the third installment of my Lucy/Caspian AU (Sea and Stars) for the Narnia After Dark fest this year, and didn't get to finish it (despite the fact that the deadlines were set around pagan holidays, which was delightful!). I really, really want to finish this story and share it with the Narnia folks who love and participate in NAD.
The second thing is another continuation. I wrote a story a while ago called Three Ways Peggy Carter Could Have Come Back from the Dead - and One Way She Did. The original story had four possibilities, and was set up as a series of snapshots. I got pretty invested in each idea, and in February I wrote a second chapter that was a continuation of the first possibility, picking up that story thread and showing some more of how it played out. I'd like to do the second possibility next, and see what happens.
I've also had a couple of nascent story ideas floating around in my head that I haven't started - a new Jo/Laurie story based on a Brahms song (and yes, that Jo and Laurie from Little Women), and a new Jack/Sarah story inspired by Sara Bareilles' song "Poetry of Dead Men." The latter has been in my brain for a long time, and I'd really like to get it down.
All of those feel like they are lower stakes than my massive Newsies love letter, We'll Be There to Defend One Another. I love this story so much, and my brain has been grinding into gear again about it recently, mulling over plot lines and details and how to resolve the many pieces I've put into play. It's just a lot - it's a lot of detail and a lot of research, and as much as I love this story and everything about it, it feels very high stakes because I'm so invested in the finished product living up to what I want it to be. So that may take longer to attempt, just because the stakes of it feel so much higher.
There are other things lingering in my WIP pile that I could finish, too, but I'll stop there! That's a good start. :)
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squirrel-brother · 10 days
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關於松鼠通貨延伸出來的轉盤
進行到第二彈,
目前新增了終極拉霸區
以下是拉霸獎項
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終極拉霸特別獎
TWITCH BAN 600秒x2 兌換卷
鼠窩DC禁言1天x2 兌換卷
松鼠通貨 300x3 兌換卷
松鼠通貨 500x2 兌換卷
松鼠通貨 1000x2 兌換卷
松鼠通貨 3000x1 兌換卷
松鼠通貨 5000x1 兌換卷
松鼠幫你刷特戰通行證3等(不論進度) x1 兌換卷
一款你想玩的遊戲(松鼠跟你玩 30分鐘) 松鼠要負擔的起才能 x2 兌換卷
我想打自訂場卷X2
(要松鼠在開台時,湊滿特戰自訂場)
TWITCH VIP身分一日 x1 兌換卷
TWITCH MOD身分一日 x1 兌換卷
新增鼠窩DC音效版x1 (5日) 兌換卷
鼠窩DC 金主身分一日 x1 兌換卷
MYCARD 100 x1 兌換卷
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gdf6516 · 11 months
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yhfjmn51 · 11 months
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redheadgleek · 3 years
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WALEDP - June 3
Lost track of time, so I'm barely squeaking this in before I go to bed.
Another page written, mostly dialogue. Early flirtation is so fun to write, but I worry that it's a little too sarcastic and I'm struggling with transitioning out of this scene.
25 minute workout + stretching afterwards.
@wowbright, @coffeegleek,@leydhawk
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coffeegleek · 3 years
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First draft of yet another one-shot done. 429 words isn’t much, but it still meets the challenge requirements. :) I’ll revise it and last night’s new one-shot a little later when I have fresh eyes. The Burt and Carole parent feels refuse to leave me.
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captainlordauditor · 4 years
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300x3 7:02
300 words 3 times a week etc
I wrote this Tuesday and then just..completely forgot to post it. This is I guess the thing I’m gonna be poking at when I need a break from earth 988 but I’m staying in Batman? It’s basically the same concept of messing around with the timeline by moving up a character’s birth several years but with Jason, so I’ve labeled it earth 488. Timeline’s not super worked out so the ages are subject to change. 1729 words.
Warnings for brief mentions of drugs, CSA, etc, standard Batman warnings I guess
The kid’s in college when Bruce first meets him, or rather he should be; instead he’s hotwired the Batmobile and taken it for a ride, and Batman finds him several streets away from where he left it, grinning fit to burst, classic rock blaring out the open windows. He slams the brakes when he sees the local cryptid in front of him and stops just short of hitting Batman, but he doesn’t lose that grin the whole time.
“You gonna turn me in or what, Batsy?” His eyes are a rusty blue green like the water in the bay in the summer, and Batman sees a reckless storm in them. His eyes are like justice; his eyes are like liberty.
He should be angry, should be fuming, especially tonight, but he’s not. He laughed himself stupid when he found the car missing and it’s a struggle to keep himself from laughing again when confronted with the thief. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He tilts his head, easy, like he’s having the most casual conversation in the world. “Wanted to see if she drives as pretty as she looks.”
Batman sighs, watching him. “You must be very good, to get past the security measures.”
He shrugs. He’s too thin, too small, his jacket hanging off of him like Batman’s cape. “I do alright.”
The Bat glides over to the drivers side door. “Show me.”
He tries to drop the kid off at the only group home in the neighborhood, but the kid laughs his head off when he sees the building. “That’s my grandma's place,” he says. “Taught me all I know. She’s running a museum heist tonight, you know that?”
Batman’s heart stops. He turns his head, watches the thief in the seat next to him, his head rolled back against the seat. His red-black hair is mussed from the wind, his eyes are sparkling with laughter. He looks godly; he looks obscene. Batman wants to see him like this again.
“Goes to show, right?” says the thief. “Everything good in Gotham rots.”
Batman releases the parking brake. “That’s not true.”
“Sure it is. What’s rotting you, Batsy?”
“Which museum?”
He sees the thief again the next week, walking the Bowery without a shirt under his jacket. He saunters over to the Batmobile and drapes himself against the door, displaying his skinny bare chest for Batman to admire. Batman thinks of what it would be like to wrap him in the warmest blanket in the manor. “You finally here to rot with the rest of us, Batsy?”
“I thought you were a thief,” Batman says. 
“I’m whatever you want,” he replies, and Batman doesn’t know why he was so much more attractive stealing a car than when he’s openly flirting. “I can even be your Robin for the night, if that’s what you’re after.” He tilts his head, smile fading. “Is that what’s rotting you, Batsy?”
Batman’s jaw twitches as he clenches it. He’s heard the insinuations before, and he’s never liked them. “I’m looking for Two Face.”
The man’s face turns from contemplating the edge of anger to a hard determination. Batman decides he likes it. “Yeah, I know where he is.”
Batman doesn’t know what it is that makes him unlock the door and say, “get in,” but he does.
“I’ll miss work if I do that,” he says. He leans in closer. “Or I could give you a discount. Call it two hundred for the whole night.”
In this area, Batman’s sure that’s not his usual pricing. “I’ll pay you after we catch Two Face.” Last week he ran off before Batman could talk to him; he doesn’t want to lose another chance for conversation.
He opens the door and settles in the car, sprawls on the seat, opens the window, lights a cigarette. Virginia slim. “Heard his guys talking plans two days ago. Were in the next room over from mine for the night. Said they’re hitting the Lucky Dollar Casino.”
“That’s in Bristol.” Bristol has looser gambling laws. It’s an effort to control vice, send it out of the city. Batman can’t say it works.
He shrugs, watching Batman through heavy lidded eyes. Batman thinks of what it’d be like to take that cigarette from his mouth and kiss him gently. Instead he says, “If Robin smells that on the seats, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
He laughs, a quiet genuine snicker of amusement, nothing like the shrieks of thrill and irony he gave last week. Batman wants to hear that sound again. “Where is he, anyway?”
“It’s a school night.”
He gets his wish. “You’re a wonder, Batsy. Didn’t know you cared so much about that punk.”
“He’s not a punk.” Alfred used to say he spent too much time in the past; maybe so, because this is still his reflex when people use that word, even if he knows it’s not what they mean.
“He’s out here running around with you, isn’t he? Beating up robbers in a pair of booty shorts.” He takes a drag on his cigarette and Batman looks at him and wonders that he knows what he just said.
“It’s a leotard. Acrobat’s gear.” He ignores the thief’s snort.
Two Face gets away, but Batman gets the hostage he took, so he considers it a half successful night.  He comes back to the car where the other man is waiting, his feet up on the dash. He finished his first cigarette around the time they got here, but he’s already halfway through another one.
He taps his knuckles against the window, bounces his leg. “I know you said you’d pay me after you caught him, but I’m not waiting until tomorrow.”
“I’ll pay you tonight.” Batman starts the car. 
His name is Jason; he’s nineteen years old. Batman’s glad of that, because from his height and build, he thought Jason was younger. He feels less guilty about looking at him now.
He eats steadily, watching Batman like he knows the food won’t disappear but thinks Batman might. He doesn’t, not yet; he’s finding he likes Jason when he’s not acting a part, or at least when he’s toned it down. He has a good brain and a quick wit, even if his humor is a little raw. 
“Can you only steal cars?” 
He shakes his head, licks ketchup off his thumb. It’s not sensual at all, just a habit gained from starvation, eating every scrap of food, and that makes it all the better. His eyes meet Batman’s over his hand. “M’not so good with safes, but I can do windows and pockets fine. ‘M a pretty good shot. Can do explosives okay, if you give me a gun I can probably fix it. I know how to dilute coke and what to do if someone ODs on Harry.” He takes a long drag of soda through his straw, not looking at Batman. It’s the first time he’s avoided eye contact. 
After a moment, he looks back up. “I can conjugate German and translate Latin. Read the Odyssey a couple times. It’s better in Greek.”
His brain, unbidden, supplies him with the image of Jason laid out before him like a god, Bruce and poetry against his mouth. He would do for this Jason what Medea could not do for hers, he hopes, and win his loyalty.
 He banishes the thought. No, this is not Jason; this is Ganymede, and Batman will not be as Zeus. “Why work the streets then?” He asks instead.
He pauses, looking at his food and then back at Batman. He’s leaning forward over the table and there’s barely a foot between them. “I like it,” he says. It has the straightforwardness of honesty. “If I do drugs or enforcement I’d have to work for someone else. There aren’t any gangs here I like enough to sign away my soul. Not yet.” He slides his leg forward to brush up against Batman’s under the table, so lightly Batman’s not sure he’d notice it if it weren’t for his training. There’s no shock, no static, but it feels electric nonetheless.
“There are options,” he tells Jason. He doesn’t dare move his leg.
“I haven’t been to a proper school since I was ten,” Jason retorts. “What options do you mean? Drown in debt to get through college so I can get a job above the table? A corporation’s just the same as a gang, except you can’t snitch and send them to jail when they treat you like shit. Besides,” he leans back, doubling the distance between them, stretching it into an infinity, slips his leg away from Batman’s. “You arrested Maroni. You took apart the Blackgaters.”
Batman looks away. Those eyes are piercing him, bearing down on him like the god of justice come down to judge him. It’s a rude reminder, that he doesn’t always do good; a stab in the gut that his choice removed that of somebody else, somebody with greater stakes in the game. 
But Jason is right; Batman did arrest Maroni, and he did take apart the Blackgaters, for the most part. It’ll be a month or so before the void is filled where the fence was before, when the rest of Gotham is sure he’ll lose the trial. The Blackgaters will follow, only once they have a place closer than Penguin to sell the parts off the cars they steal.
And in the meantime, Jason will walk the streets. In December.
Batman never thought he’d feel guilty about arresting someone for a crime he knew they’d committed, but here he is. How many other car thieves are in the same boat? He almost wonders if he should let Two Face go, but then he remembers the shots fired and the hostage held tonight, and scolds himself for thinking such a thing.
Maybe Jason’s right, everything good in Gotham rots. Sometimes there are no good choices, no good answers.
He gives Jason his two hundred, in eight twenties, so it’s easy to break, tucks the lone fifty in his wallet over it and calls it a tip. Bruce Wayne may carry hundreds to give to the homeless like candy, but Batman doesn’t. He leaves it on the table beside the wrapper for a burger and when Jason goes to throw out his trash, he vanishes.
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writemetohell · 4 years
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300x3 (aka getting sh*t done February)
It’s February and I’ve got GOALS baby! I’m gonna try to do a chapter a week to get caught up on all my old shit, including my old multi chapter that was started in 2018 (yikes!). But for now, here’s 859 words for @klaineharmony‘s 300x3 challenge! Enjoy!
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“So lemme get this straight- This guy says he’s willing to tutor you, for as long as you like, with absolutely no strings attached?” Jack gave David an incredulous look as he dodged a thick patch of snow that had congealed onto the pavement. He swung his bag over one shoulder and leaned slightly backwards so Crutchie could grip onto the other. There was some slight maneuvering, then they were all in the clear. Until the next patch, at least. 
“Well, not exactly.” David kept several paces behind them, cautiously keeping his left boot away from the snow mound. “He says he wants The World for free. Which, you know, is pretty easy for me to do. And it’s only until I can get back to school full time. I just don’t know when that would be right now.”
“You sure you can trust him?” Crutchie had let go of Jack, and was now warming his free hand on the side of his neck.
David looked up from the sidewalk. ”Trust him? I mean, shouldn’t I? He’s Kath’s friend, right? And he helped with the strike.”
Crutchie gave a deep sigh. David noticed he had been doing that frequently since the beginning of winter. “All I’m saying is that sometimes people are nice for the right reasons, and sometimes they’re nice the wrong ones.”
“The wrong ones? What are the wrong-?”
“Excuse me young man.” 
A middle aged woman stood in front of them, blocking their way to the other side of the street. She was primly dressed all in black, with a wide brimmed, billowy bonnet framing her face. Clutched tightly in her hand was a small pocket bible. It took David a moment to realise she was staring intently at Crutchie.
“Excuse me, young man. I was wondering if I could pray for you.” This was more of a statement than a question. 
Crutchie’s eyes widened, and his jaw slacked a bit. “What? Why of course you can pray for me, ma’m. Gee, it would be an honor.” 
David shot Jack a nervous look. Jack met his gaze and and mouthed ‘wait for it’.
Crutchie’s face had taken a sickly, saccharine look to it as the woman put a silk gloved hand on his shoulder and started speaking in trembling, off-kilter voice. Her face seized up as she closed her eyes and soon a small crowd began to form around them, in no small part to the fact that they were blocking others from going past them. David could feel his cheeks go hot from the embarrassment of it all.
When the woman had finished, her face recoiled and her tense mouth turned into a beam. “Well, that was just lovely. Thank you so much young man. You’ve truly helped me bring in the right mindset this Christmas season. I hope Christ finds you and finds it in His heart to heal you.” 
David felt like he was about to blow a gasket. But Crutchie remained calm. “Wow. Thanks ma'am, that’s really something. I’ll be sure to take that to heart.” He made a motion to go forward, then paused. “Gee, I’d love to go back and tell the other fellas at the boarding house all about what happened today, but it’s so awfully hard to get there, with me lugging around these papes an’ all.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
Crutchie nodded earnestly. “Oh yes ma’m. Especially with the weather an’ all. It can be so hard, trying to balance it all on this ice. And well, with my crutch…”
Crutchie made a big display of looking forlornly down at his crutch. He gave one last dramatic sigh. “I guess that’s the way things go sometimes. Well, I better be on my way ma’m. I’ll never forget this.”
“Wait!” The woman was now fishing around in her coin purse. “How much for the whole stack?”
The edges on Crutchie’s lips turned upwards. “A dollar ten.”
Jack gave a barking laugh. The woman looked over and he tried to turn it into a cough. 
“A dollar ten, really? Isn’t that a bit too-”
“Inflation.” Crutchie nodded solemnly. “A real big issue, especially this time of year. But I understand if you can’t help-”
“No, wait!” The woman shoved a two single bills into his chapped hand. “I’ll take the whole stack!” 
“Well gee, thanks.” Crutchie swiftly took his diminishing stack from his bag and abruptly handed it to her. He started away as quickly as he could, with David and Jack at his heels. He called over his shoulder. “And Merry Christmas to you too!”
David looked back at the well dressed woman, who was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk, forlornly clutching the stack of newspapers next to her bible. Crutchie pausd and watched with him.
“You see Davey? Sometimes people are nice for the wrong reasons. And when that happens, the best thing you can do is take what you need and go. Any man who stays for a minute longer is just a sucker.” 
He held out the two dollars in front of his friends. “Now, who wants lunch?”
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300 x 3 Christmas fic year THREE
Yes it’s october 29th, don’t @ me.
I hope not to give too much away with these snippets, but I’ve been sorely inactive with writing, so have a peek! word count 373
**
The cold woke Jack before Davey’s typing did, and he pushed the blanket off his head, only to immediately tuck it back around his shoulders.
“Why’s it cold?” he whined, burrowing his face in his pillow, glaring blearily at his roommate like it was his fault the tiny room was freezing.
Davey shifted in his desk chair, pulling his comforter around him. “Dunno. It went out over night, I think.”
“Why?” Jack repeated, rolling on his back.
“Probably no one’s keeping up with the heating since it’s break and there’s not as many people in the building.”
Groaning, Jack thought about throwing a pillow at Davey, but ultimately came to the conclusion that a pillow loss would mean a loss of heat in the bed. “Davey, s’too early f’r ya to be talkin’ logic when I ask why it’s cold.”
“Outside cold. Heat broke. Inside cold,” Davey deadpanned, and Jack decided it was worth the heat loss to peg him in the back of the head with a pillow.
Burrowing back under his nest, Jack wondered if he would be able to go back to sleep.
Then his own pillow was whumping him in the stomach.
He cracked an eye open to glare at Davey again. “What?”
“Sarah says they have a mini space heater and heated blankets in their room. We can come over if we bring snacks and movies.”
“They?” Jack asked, propping his elbow on his pillow.
Davey shrugged. “Yeah. I guess her roommate is staying through break too.”
“Ooh, the mystery roommate? We finally get to meet her?” Jack asked, risking the cold to reach under his bed for his stash of food. He’d met Sarah the first week of school and seen her several times since, but he and Davey hadn’t met her elusive roommate in the three months they’ve been living in the same building. According to Sarah, she was taking something like six classes, plus writing for the school paper, plus working some internship in the city.
“Looks like.” Davey stood to cross the room, blanket still wrapped around him like a cape.
Sitting up on his bed and letting his feet dangle above the floor, Jack stretched his arms over his head, popping his back.
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rainbowfoxes · 4 years
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300x3 1:01 Y2
getting back into the swing of this after quite a bit. Life’s a bitch.
For those not in the know, the 300x3 challenge was made by @klaineharmony, you can find the rules here. The gist of it is that you write 300 words, 3 times a week and post it for accountability. If you’d like to read my previous entries, you can check out my 300x3 tag.
What I’ve got today is 597 words of a writing warm up that got a little away from me. It’s for a big project I’ve been working on that’s a little bit fic and a little bit original work.
Trigger warnings: Maybe a little body horror? A woman finds that she has some new, more than human features and explores them.
Notes: This probably makes no sense out of context, but who cares.
The doors open, and she lets the black hands take her. They are gentle with her flesh as they rip her apart, caressing her as they unmake her. She leans into the softness and goes willingly into oblivion.
And then she wakes up.
She is surrounded by darkness in every direction. It is so complete that she can’t even see her hands in front of her face. Can’t feel them either. Does she still have hands? She cannot move in the darkness, but she’s beginning to think that she doesn’t have a body to move anymore.
Odd, that.
She spends time there, or she presumes she does. Nothingness makes it difficult to keep track of things as arbitrary as seconds. She just. Exists in this void. Thinking about everything, then letting it go. With a life such as hers, it seems necessary to do this before anything else.
When she has made her peace, something new happens. A heartbeat. And then another. And another. Is that her heart, rolling like the tide? It sounds almost like there are two. No, three, and all coming from the same place. She blinks.
When was the last time she did that? She reaches up to touch her eyes, and oh. Her hands are back. She prods at her face with her fingertips, and discovers sharp nails — Claws? At the ends. Best be careful, then. She traces her face with the pads of her fingers, but everything keeps changing. Her cheekbones shift, her jaw curves and then straightens back out, her nose is doing all sorts of things on her face. She prods at her lips, which can’t seem to figure out how plump they want to be, and pricks her finger on sharp teeth. It doesn’t hurt, but the blood appears to glow in the darkness. The only thing that doesn’t seem to change is that there is something squishy right in the center of her forehead. She pokes it, and feels eyelashes flutter against her finger.
An extra eye. Okay. 
She continues to explore upwards and feels hair, and now that she thinks about it, she can feel the weight of it, and how it grazes against her ankles — hello there, legs. She taps her fingers up higher on her head and finds two large protrusions. They feel ribbed, and she follows them straight up. Horns? She comes back down to her head, and on the sides, she feels two more. Same texture, but they curve out and around her ears. Speaking of, as far as she can tell, her ears are perfectly normal, though they keep changing size.
She shifts her focus to whatever it is that her newly discovered hair keeps catching on. She reaches towards her back, and whatever it is streaches to meet her halfway. Her fingers touch soft, frayed silk. Feathers? Are these wings?
The thought seems to spurn them to life, but it is not just one pair of wings that unfurl, but five. She cannot see them even by the dim glow of the blood on her finger, but she knows they must be absolutely massive.
She bites her finger, much more deliberate this time, and lets the blood spill onto her hand. She uses it as a makeshift light to look down at her body. Here too is constantly changing. Her proportions shift, her skin slides through the spectrum of ethereal white to a black so dark it nearly blends into the shadows around her. And if she looks closely, she can see her hair shifting colors as well.
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klaineharmony · 2 years
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Newsiestober, Days 1-3
Prompts:  Candy/Haunted House/Family and/or Unions
I have no idea what this is yet - just a vague outline in my head. So we’ll see how this goes, I guess? 797 words.
“C’mon, Racer, you know they only hand out candy until 5:30,” Jack urged, pulling his friend along the sidewalk. “We can grab some food at Katz’s afterward if you’re still hungry.” 
“Why is it such a big deal that we do this?” Tony grumbled. He was cranky after a full day at the office, Jack knew; the advertising firm where they both worked had been leaning on them hard in the run up to Halloween.
“Because it’s Economy Candy, and a Halloween tradition!” Jack laughed. “Everyone feels better after free candy, and you’re supporting a local institution.”
Tony finally smiled, albeit reluctantly. “All right, all right. But they better have chocolate covered gummy bears, or I will be sad.”
Jack grinned. “They’ll have them inside if they aren’t giving them away. Let’s go!”
Finally convinced, Tony picked up his pace, and he and Jack quickly came in sight of Economy Candy, a Lower East Side institution since 1937. There was a long line going down the black to claim the free candy that the store was famous for on Halloween, but Jack gladly pulled them into it, and the line moved quickly. He gave a whoop as he spotted the tub of gold, black, and silver-wrapped round chocolates, which were one of his favorites.
He and Tony waited their turn, laughing occasionally at the kids in line who were in cute costumes, and once they had availed themselves of the free candy, they went inside so that Race could purchase a truly massive bag of chocolate covered gummy bears.
“Do you still want to go to Katz’s?” Jack asked as they made it out onto the sidewalk, contentedly munching their candy.
“Sure,” Tony agreed. “I’m starving; I will gladly eat most of a Katz’s sandwich. I might have to take a cab home, but it will totally be worth it,” he chuckled.
The two of them enjoyed the absurdly large sandwiches and egg creams that Katz’s was famous for, and then decided to take a walk around the local neighborhood before heading home. They were both incredibly full, and it seemed like a good idea to walk off some of the calories. Plus, New York was in the glory of autumn, and the evening was crisp and cool. Jack took deep breaths as they walked; it was so rare that he had a moment to appreciate the beauty and uniqueness of New York.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he said to Tony as they walked. “It’s a beautiful night.”
Tony smiled at him. “I can barely move myself, I’m so full, but yeah, it’s nice.”
They were walking along Clinton St., and when they reached the corner of Clinton and Stanton, Jack’s attention was caught by the old brick tenement building on the corner. It was swathed in scaffolding and clearly under construction, but it was possible to see the old beauty, under the wear and tear; the brickwork was still distinctive, and it would be beautiful when it was cleaned up.
“Wow,” he said softly. He reached out and put a hand on Tony’s arm. “Look at that building. It’s gorgeous.” 
“Yeah, she’s a grand old gal,” Tony agreed, pausing to look. “She’ll be beautiful again, once they’re done working.”
Jack kept staring. There was something about the building that tugged at him, though he couldn’t put it into words.
“Let’s go,” Tony said, reading his face. “Let’s cross. There’s not anything coming.”
They crossed the street on a diagonal, jogging lightly, and when they reached the opposite corner, they ducked under the scaffolding that was carefully suspended over the sidewalk. Jack reached out a hand and rested it on the corner of the building. The brick was still warm, even in the cool of the evening.
His eyes fell shut, and the strange feeling that had come over him didn’t lessen; in fact, it got worse. Touching the building, it was almost as if he could remember things, hear things - except he had no idea where they came from.
He’s got no union to protect him.
Your family’s real nice, Dave. Like mine.
We’re a union now, the newsboys’ union; we have to start acting like a union.
Have you been out there all night? Why didn’t you wake us up?
Jack shivered, opening his eyes and letting his hand fall away from the bricks.
“What’s going on, Jack?” Tony asked quietly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“It feels a little bit like that,” Jack admitted. “I - don’t know.”
“It’s just an old building, Cowboy,” Tony said reassuringly, nudging him. “It will still be here tomorrow. The dark’s getting to you.” 
“You’re probably right,” Jack said, forcing a laugh. He put an arm around Race’s shoulders. “Let’s find a cab and head home.”
Economy Candy is real, and I was using this building at the corner of Clinton and Stanton in NYC as inspiration. :)
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whatstheproblembaby · 5 years
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Because I make my own rules. Going back to Kath’s section of the winter angst fic, but featuring the trio being goofballs. It’s what we deserve.
“So...you’ll get matching Christmas pajamas with me? Or matching Hanukkah pajamas, Davey?” she asks, only partially kidding.
“We’re taking our fucking holiday card photos next year in the matching jammies,” Jack says before planting a kiss on Katherine’s temple.
“I’ve seen some truly obnoxious onesies with multicolored glittery snowflakes,” Davey muses, pulling Kath fully into his lap. Jack grabs her feet so they lay across his legs. “I can add a yarmulke, Jackie can have a Santa hat. It’ll be great.”
“Wait, what do I get?” Katherine asks.
“Antlers,” Jack decides. “With jingle bells.”
“Perfect.”
“Just like you,” Jack says, rubbing her legs. “Now, grab the remote, Davey. These Hallmark movies ain’t gonna watch themselves.”
“God, I hope the one with the prince who visits America for the holidays and ends up falling in love with a Midwestern kindergarten teacher is on,” Kath says, crossing her fingers.
“Can we drink every time his accent changes?” Davey asks, fishing the remote out of the couch cushions.
“That’s the only reason I want it to be on,” Katherine replies.
Luckily enough, it is. They feel a little rough in the morning, but Kath can’t help but think it was worth it.
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mentaltimetraveller · 2 years
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Justin Morin
How to drape a venitian mask, polished steel and printed silk, 300x3 cm // 220x140 cm, 2014.
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redaksi · 2 years
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PJ KJM Salurkan BLT-DD Tahap Pertama
KJM || Lampung ||• redaksijateng 81 Pj Kampung Karya Jitu Mukti (Kjm) Bpk Subandi SE, menyalurkan Bantuan Langsung Tunai (BLT) Dana Desa (DD) tahap 1 tahun 2022 se besar Rp 900 ribu kepada 88 selama tiga bulan (Januari-maret) dengan rincian tiap bulan Rp 300/kpm 300X3 total jumlah Rp 900 /kpm. Kegiatan tersebut di laksanakan di Balai Kantor Kampung KJM Kecamatan Rawa Jitu Selatan Kabupaten Tulang…
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redheadgleek · 3 years
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Write A Little Every Day Project - June 1
I signed up for the WIP Big Bang a couple of months ago to finish my story that I've been working on for Fandom Trumps Hate for the past year and a half. Rough Drafts are due July 18th, so I'm hoping to revamp my "WALEDP" project from January and finish this off. My muse is finding writing on notepads to be more stimulating than google docs, so probably no word counts. But I wrote a page today!
WALEDP is also going to stand for "workout a little every day project" as well for June, because I've been slacking off and my hips hurt and I sleep better when I do.
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coffeegleek · 3 years
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2,331 descriptive and humorous words written today...for new eBay listings, but I’m going to count it for 300x3 because I was creative and witty and that’s what helps us sell things. I continue to think about my WIP and potential one-shots, but haven’t found time to write on them yet. Hopefully soon though. 
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