#snip from a wip. technically

[rockingrobin69]

Wonder full (3)

Eventually Harry managed to wear Malfoy down—to convince him, that is, to move in. He didn’t bring a lot of things from the crappy flat: just the chest of drawers, a bunch of scratchy old records, and a pile of books. Mr. Picket tried to convince him to take more, any of the furniture, the photos on the walls, even the new sofa he's bought, all to Malfoy’s staunch refusal. “Don’t want to rely,” he started, then stopped, mouth twisting like he said something stupid. Grabbed the bin bag of his clothes and an empty tube of toothpaste and raced down to the rented van. Was silent the whole drive, buzzing at Harry’s shoulder without ever moving. But he relaxed by the time they got to the house, smiled when he saw Teddy’s drawings on the fridge door. Settled in unnervingly quick. And then they were housemates.

Oh, god, they were housemates.

This sudden existence taking space where Harry was usually quiet, usually by himself. It made everything feel more real, somehow. Less blurry. And moving in with Harry helped Malfoy too, Harry thought, released this tight line of his shoulders, rounded the sharpness of his frown. His laughter was still wild, still unhinged, and Harry liked that he could hear it more and more, and more, and more.

Work was still work. But Harry was constantly doodling on his notes, flowers and birds and trees, half-formed, disproportionate faces, big eyes with heavy eyelashes. Malfoy did the interviews with Ron a couple of times a week, and they all went to the pub together sometimes, with Ginny and Luna and Nev and the others. It was weirdly, weirdly, nice.

Malfoy was an interesting addition to the house. He worked awful hours, sometimes disappeared for days on end. He always left cups of half-drank tea everywhere, as if expecting to come back for them at some point. He insisted on buying and using a fabric softener that smelled, of all things, distinctly blue. He broke the coffee maker and always left the lights on in the hall, he chucked all of Harry’s cereal and got them Weetabix, was obsessed with fruit, mostly apples, sometimes oranges. He brought men to the house, gorgeous men who wanted to make him breakfast, who never somehow stayed. And he cleaned in the middle of the night, and monopolised the telly, and played his music far too loud and obnoxious, and Harry liked it so much he felt sick.

Most magnificent added bonus to the new living situation: Malfoy met Teddy. Or rather Teddy met Malfoy. Quiet, smiley Ted who never spoke much around Harry, who couldn’t shut up around him. As if something in Malfoy’s restless energy struck a chord, lit up something previously unknown inside him. Malfoy was baffled, spent a lot of time flushed, checking himself in the mirror, as if expecting to see someone else. Never did. And he made sure not to stay with Teddy on his own, only with Harry in the room, like he too required adult supervision. 

Autumn came as it usually did, too tight and all of a sudden. September was uneventful, but then it turned October, and Harry felt every heckle in his body rise. It didn’t help that Malfoy was so loud, that there was no escaping him. It didn’t help that he followed Harry around the house like a duckling, always asking his questions and talking about nothing at all, about everything. It didn’t help that Harry sort of wanted him there, and dreaded it.

Things were getting quite tense by the end of the month. A week before Halloween Harry came back to the whole living room covered in fabric, and Malfoy in—

“The hell is this?” Harry managed weakly. Malfoy turned around, wearing a frown and nothing but tatters of linen, wrapped distressingly loose around his torso, gallons of body glitter on his exposed skin. It looked like someone who’s never seen a mummy before had a weird sex dream. It looked comical. Also very much not.

“I got a new gig. We sell perfume, I think. Down in the shopping centre beside the game shop, the one with the troll.”

Harry grunted in recognition. “And they want you dressed like that?”

“They have this promotion, bugger if I know. The pay’s terrific.” To Harry’s scowl, not letting up: “Do you—disapprove?”

“It’s,” Harry choked, and couldn’t make himself say a word more. Everything in his head was tight and, he suspected, entirely too petty to say out loud. He wasn’t a child, and this wasn’t—shouldn’t be a problem. Malfoy could have whatever job he wanted, prance around in the most revealing non-clothes, Harry didn't care. But—

“It’s Halloween,” he admitted through his teeth. “I don’t, don’t really like it.”

“Oh? Do elaborate.”

“Just don’t. Never did. I’d, erm, usually go to Sirius’s, or Ron and Hermione’s, and it was never… I mean.”

“I remember you were never around for the parties back at school. Possibly had this intention of shocking some reaction out of you, younger years. Wore some truly inspiring outfits. But that’s not really an answer, is it? What exactly is the issue I’m obviously missing here?”

“Who said there had to be an issue?”

“Your face did. Quit pouting.”

Harry didn’t pout, because he was an adult, who didn’t pout. “It’s just my face. Was born with it and everything.”

“To the general dismay of all, yes, we know. Now tell me what’s wrong or I’ll be late for my shift, and you will have to explain it to my acne-riddled, angsty teenaged boss.”

“Your boss is a teenager?” Harry frowned, and Malfoy rolled his eyes with a groan so loud it was almost funny.

“Of course he is. Are you trying to stall? Just tell me. I’m not a fucking wizard, I won’t know if you don’t—”

“My parents,” Harry said in this tiny voice he didn't even recognise. “It’s when they, er. It was the thirty-first, so, I don’t really celebrate or anything.”

Oh, god. Stupid, that was such a stupid thing to say. Harry regretted it, regretted saying anything at all in his life. Wouldn’t it be better if he'd been born mute, if he learned to keep his mouth shut and was just bloody quiet for one miserable time—

“I,” Malfoy said, and swallowed. Quiet, and also loud, in that weird, hectic way.

“Don’t,” pathetically, idiotically. “It’s fine.”

Malfoy's frown deepened. “I,” he said again, and stopped. Then: “Should have known that, actually.”

Harry rubbed his eyes till they sparked. “How would you? Not like I went and made a big deal of it. It’s not. A big deal, I mean.”

“Harry,” in this awful, low tone, possibly Malfoy's attempt at gentle. “I’m so—” hardening, hardening. “I can quit. I will. This is so silly and I never would have, ah, I'm being an absolute tosser about it anyway. No, quite right.”

The way he was standing, tall and firm and buzzing, roaring with it. “Just,” desperately, “stop, okay? I won’t even be here most of the week. Going to stay with Ron, Hermione’s out on this field research gig and—honestly, it’s fine. You don’t need to—I’m not a child.”

Malfoy made a rather horse-y sound. “That's not—” stopped once again. “All right. Fine. I’ll still quit, though. Teenage bosses in general I have no issues with, but Jeremiah is a bit too much for my tastes. He won’t even let me wear the nose ring. It’s basically like being in a cult.” Then snorted, a horrible, echoing sound. “Not that I’d know anything about that, would I.”

“Malfoy,” Harry tried.

“Truly, what am I even on about. News flash, Draco, this isn’t about you. You have… we can talk about it, if you’d like, about your parents. About all of it. I could listen.”

“No,” with this crackly, panicked laughter, “no, that’s fine. I’ll be away Thursday, so, really. I’ll see you again after—in November. Don’t quit, okay? Not for me. It doesn’t matter.”

Malfoy’s pretty nose scrunched. “What an utterly ridiculous thing to say.” Shook himself, a bit less stiff and a bit more himself. “That job wasn’t for me, anyway. I’ve already texted in my resignation.”

“What?” grinned, helpless. “When did you even have the time?”

“I’m a very prudent texter, Harry. You should know that about me. It’s what I always say when people ask: Draco Malfoy, twenty-six, prudent texter.”

This thing in his chest, the block of maybe-ice shifted, started to, not melt but, become more bearable. “You should add, arse.”

“Of course, it’s next on the list. Draco Malfoy, twenty-six, prudent texter, absolute arsehole. Unemployed but in a sexy way. Proficient in French, Latin, Hebrew, Russian and Greek, tragically underdeveloped interpersonal skills.”

"Git." Against the wall, against his better judgement: “And me? What should I tell people, if they ask?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one. Harry Potter, twenty-six, workaholic. Graceful evader. Not graceful anything else. Gifted artist but only in secret, horrible taste in tv series, best godfather, arms of a Greek god. A wanker of stellar proportions. Too big a heart.”

God, god, help him, save him from all this Malfoy all the time. The corners of his mouth ached. “I’m—hey, I’m sorry about being weird before. It’s just, the… maybe I’m just hungry or something.”

Malfoy perked up. “I made lentil soup. Heat some up for you? It’s not half bad.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” His stomach grumbled with it, or with something else. “Are you really not going to work? That’s a lot of wasted body glitter.”

Even his shrug was elegant. Was weird. “Perhaps not entirely a waste. There’s the whole night ahead of us, you know.” But he mostly just sat in front of Harry in the kitchen and made bad jokes about cutlery and shed glitter all over the chairs, the floor. It was possibly one of the best nights Harry’s had in a while. It was awful.

From Wonder Full's act 1, posted in full on AO3.

#drarry fic #'tis October... #snip from a wip. technically #although all of act 1 is posted #oh no they were housemates #references to canon trauma

[ilovedthestars]

a trick or treat for @cellarwhales, who was having mysterious technical difficulties with my inbox

you asked for something hopeful or cathartic, so i am going to share some snips from the slightly angsty but mostly soft fic that i wrote after backreading the Murderbot has a Murdercat thread on discord. this wip was inspired by the excellent fic a hero to me by kiore ( @temporalreplicsimile ) and it's really not that far from being finished, but i stalled out on looking thru the books to find some quotes to tie the various snips i wrote into canon scenes.....i should go do that so i can post this!

these snips are scenes from ASR (starting immediately after the rogue discovery scene), but if Murderbot had a cat. because it deserves one.

---

A small, furry fauna streaked out of the corner and attacked my feet with its tiny claws. I was so relieved to see it that I didn’t even think before I bent down and lifted it off the floor. It shoved its head into the crook of my elbow and I had to pull my arms close to my body to keep from dropping it. It burrowed its face into my shirt and started to vibrate softly. I realized that all the humans were staring at me. Ratthi said, “Oh, is it yours?” I just stood there, trying frantically to think of a lie or an excuse that would explain why this small fauna had attached itself to me. Anything that wouldn’t lead to it being taken away. Arada said, “It came running out of the cubicle when we opened it, and wouldn’t come back. We weren’t sure how a cat got in with us, but if you brought it with you, that explains that.” Volescu said, “Is that…allowed? For SecUnits to have pets?” I tensed, and clutched the fauna a little closer to myself. Gurathin was frowning at the fauna in my arms. “It can’t possibly be allowed. It must have been hiding the cat, too. I suppose if it was rogue, it could have managed to sneak it in.” He put a little too much emphasis on the word rogue, and Mensah shot him a look. “SecUnit, I would like you to remain part of our group, at least until we get off this planet and back to a place of safety. At that point, we can discuss what you’d like to do. But I swear to you, I won’t tell the company, or anyone outside this room, anything about you or the broken module.” She considered the fauna, and added, “Or the cat.”

---

When we left for the rendezvous site, I left the fauna with the big hopper. I didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like bringing a fauna to a hostile negotiation was going to help anyone. It tried to follow me to the little hopper with Mensah. I picked it up and carried it back. “Stay here.” It knew to stay when I told it to stay. If it hadn’t figured that out quickly, it wouldn’t have lasted very long. It was a smart fauna. It tucked itself underneath one of the big hopper’s seats, almost out of sight, and stayed quiet. “Good fauna,” I told it. If everything went to shit, I hoped it would find a way to survive.

---

I was hovering on the edge of a system failure. I had flashes, off and on. The inside of the little hopper, my humans talking, something soft pushing against my hand. I felt the scrabble of tiny claws. It was my fauna. It was bumping my hand with its head and making tiny whimpering sounds. I didn’t want it to be scared, but my hand wouldn’t move to stroke it. Then being in the big hopper, as it was lifting up. I could tell from the drive noise, the flashes of the feed, that the pick-up transport was bringing it on board. The fauna licked my fingers. That meant the humans hadn’t left it behind.

#ask game answers #stars wips #murdercat wip #murderbot #murderbot fanfic #murdercat and catbot (two different concepts) are some of the best things to come out of the murderbot discord server

[raiswanson]

I come bearing more of the story I said I wouldnt work on and then did lol. so!! I wrote a few portions of this WIP entirely out of order and the first piece I shared technically comes after this one, but shhh I like this part so out of order excerpts are what we get

our narrator finds a. friend(??). :)

Previous snip shared [here]! Next one [here]!

~~~

The view was remarkable—almost worth the climb. Red and yellows spread as far as the eye could see, but when truly taken in I found pockets of green life dotting the landscape. The canyon seemed to go on forever, sprawling and winding, with only the peak of the mountains cresting in the far distance to remind me the rest of the world remained.

Despite being so open to the elements, the air in the roost was still, and I tore my gaze from the canyon to look around. More people knelt along the walls of the room in the same robes as the old man, of varying ages and appearances. Braziers lined those same walls, casting waves of heat that made the air above them waver and dance. And at the far end of the room, on the ledge overlooking the canyon, a raised platform lay in front of a large enclosure.

I peered at the platform curiously, wondering what it was for. Squinting, I opened my mouth to ask the old man what came next, and noticed everyone in the room had averted their eyes at the same time that I saw.

I froze in place, my breath ice in my lungs. Amber eyes shone behind the black gossamer curtains of the enclosure, burning so fiercely it was a wonder the curtains didn’t ignite. The enormous shape behind it was impossible to identify, but was clearly something alive, and I gulped dryly. Despite the openness of the space I felt suddenly crowded, pressure crushing down on me from all sides. Though the enclosure was still some distance away it was as though the presence within stood directly above me, flooding my every scrap of being with sheer power.

This was real. I was here.

I stood before a god.

#writing #rai writes #Three Hill Bluff #Song of Freedom #hiding the tastiest bit behind the read more because I want the BUILD UP but that makes the post too long lol #since acknowledging this WIP it has not given me a moments rest #Im mad about it but also. at least words are happening. we take those in this house #just a girl meeting an entity of unimaginable power nbd right

[thequeenofthewinter]

Snippet Someday

A very interesting concept, thank you for creating it @dirty-bosmer and for tagging me in it. Also a huge thanks for @mareenavee for throwing a second tag my way. <3 If you all haven't checked out their writing yet, you need to.

Tagging: @oblivions-dawn @paraparadigm @rainpebble3 @blossom-adventures @dumpsterhipster @skyrim-forever @snippetsrus @changelingsandothernonsense @gilgamish @saltymaplesyrup @archangelsunited @rhiannon1199 and anyone else who wants to play along.

Rules: Revisit an old fic (or earlier chapters of your current WIP) and share a snip from:

Your first chapter

Your favorite chapter

Your most challenging chapter

Alternatively, if you don't write longfic, feel free to share your one-shots. Provide as much or as little commentary as you want.

I will be using my current WIP, An Invincible Summer, for this. Apologies ahead of time for the long post. I will place my snippets under the cut.

First Chapter: Awakening (Chapter 2) (Technically, it's chapter 2 but the first one is a bit of a teaser/prologue, so I am starting here.)

Whispers of fabric follow Dahlia as she walks through the otherwise hauntingly quiet floors of the Palace of the Kings. They are the only sound which dares to accompany her, and the only indication which she comes and goes from room to room in her phantom state. No one approaches her, and no one sees her, as she herself makes no sound. Not even her footsteps echo off the old stones as if they too are afraid of disturbing her fragile peace. When she enters the Great Hall, she appears out of nowhere as if she were a sudden grey mist rolling in over the western moorlands of Whiterun. One by one, the servants take notice of her and stop to stare, unsure of what to do or how to act. They are all surprised by her spectral presence in the Great Hall as she slowly makes her way towards the Throne of Ysgramor to sit on its seat, her dull hazel eyes looking blankly out over the scene before her.  It is a complete change, a metamorphosis, as everyone watches her finally emerge from the safety of Ulfric's room, her mourning cocoon. Now, dressed decadently in silks, velvets, and furs, Dahlia looks to them to be every bit a noblewoman, the queen she is to become at a later date. She glitters and glistens from head to toe, shimmering in the bright sunlight with all of the necklaces, rings, and other trinkets which adorn her, and it's all topped with an eerily familiar piece of clothing: Ulfric's bear cloak. She has taken it as her own so that a piece of him goes wherever she does. This is her new armor, even if it's only a costume meant to distract them from staring at her for too long and seeing what inner turmoil is brewing underneath her stormy surface.  Only she knows that she is an apparition, the barest wisp of her previous self. 

Favorite Chapter: Long May They Rein (Chapter 18) (It was really hart to choose something, but ultimately, I decided on the most recent thing I wrote. There is just something about it which I am really proud of.)

"When Akatosh spun the Wheel of time and created the Dragonborns, he gave us Talos for strength and courage, a God that humans could truly look up to and aspire to become. It is in that tradition that our kings and queens have followed, striving to approximate that same tenacity of fortitude." One of the priestess' hands waves over them, gesturing to them both as she lifts a silver crown with the other. While Dahlia is already wearing hers, Ulfric is to receive his during the ceremony for all to see. Candlelight reflects off the polished sides of the silver circlet which is notably engraved with dragon's tongue as a symbol of solidarity with his wife and a single polished sapphire at its head to represent his family name. Carefully, Jora puts it down on the altar placed before her, and continues with her sermon. "All the Nine have lessons to teach us, and paths for us to follow--from Zenithar and his teachings of hard work and an industrious spirit to Stendarr and his showings of mercy upon us. May they both cover and guide you as they lend you their wisdom to rule our country." A white cloth is then placed over both of their heads before she utters her next verses. They are the same ones, perhaps with a few modifications, which have been uttered during the coronations of generations of kings and queens over time immemorial. The words settle over them both, vibrating through the chamber as if swept in upon the wind itself. "Kyne shows us the path of kindness and grants us auspicious winds. It is she who gifted us the space to exist within the Void as she opened her arms and the heavens for us. Her handmaiden, Mara, embodied the same care for us mortals in demonstrating what it means to show devotion to one another. Their qualities of generosity and amenity are standards which we all hold ourselves to--blessings which we all hope to receive." She anoints them with mountain flower oil which flows over their mantle in slow rivers. "May their kindness and love rain down on you." From there, the words all meld into one, becoming indistinct as they ebb and flow like the tides, pulling at Dahlia's heartstrings until all that is left is feeling. She is floating--not quite here nor there--as her eyes slip closed and her breathing slows to the rhythm of their beat. Julianos, Diabella, Arkay. Widsom, beauty, balance. She knows she should be paying attention, but she has all but faded away into the droning buzz of Jora's words. She is everywhere and nowhere all at once as the constellations and celestial bodies, laid out before her in ribbons of time and streams of space, leak past her in echos and whispers of words as ancient as the universe itself. They tug and pull at the edges of her consciousness, velvety black and bright silver seeping from her fingers--Are those her fingers? They ripple at her as they disperse into prismatic waves before dispersing into the Void. The whole image then turns with the force of a great Dragon opening its maw and yawning into the cosmos. She catches murmurings of what she perceives is language--if anything in this Void could be called that or even be real at all. Dovahjud, tum haallei wahl Vus motaad voth fin fus do duni, kiiri. And suddenly as quickly as the vision started, it all begins to dissolve into nothing with fragments of ash as they flutter around her and the images fade back into reality. What was this? Why was she here, and was that-- Dragged back into the consciousness of the here and now, her soul lurches into her body, the steadying hand of Ulfric keeping her from falling forward into the priestess's feet. Dahlia blinks as her eyes adjust to the vivid colors of solid, tangible existence to see the sapphire of his eyes looking with concern back at her.

Most Challenging Chapter: A Pit of Snakes (Chapter 15) (Literally, this was so difficult because I was writing a pit of snakes at the Moot.)

Finally, a tentative voice joins his as Dahlia ventures to stand next to him. "We have been sitting around and ignoring what is going on around us, hoping that the problems will resolve themselves. Exactly as it was before I appeared as the Dragonborn to fix them for you. What were each of you doing before this? You were all content to sit on your hands on your thrones and allow someone else to throw away their resources and potentially their life in order to save you or worse: resigned yourselves to your seemingly-inevitable fate. Perhaps you did not want to die, and I do not blame you. No one does. I certainly did not. When I stepped into Sovngarde, I did not expect to come back, but yet here I am. So, maybe that is what you all need to ask yourselves now--who is willing to get their hands dirty and who is willing to move to save you?" "It is admirable what you did, and no one would argue with that, but does that make you a politician and does that mean you have the skills to lead?" Balgruuf stands, a hand perched on his wife's shoulder. "Just because you know how to swing a sword around," he turns his head to Ulfric, "and you have won a few battles, does not make you fit to lead. Perhaps what my wife said earlier was a bit harsh, but it holds true. What have we seen from you that will set you apart as leaders? And what is your main goal? Windhelm sat forgotten by your own admission for so long. How do we know that the moment someone puts you on the throne that you will not throw the rest of us to the dogs in pursuit of your 'bigger picture'? At least when I was Jarl of this Hold, I did all that was possible in order to make sure my people were cared for, and that is what Elisif and I are doing now in Haafingar. We are looking out for our own. You might call that selfish, but I call that honorable. That is the foundation on which a kingdom is built upon, and that is what Elisif will promise you: honor as well as stability. Ulfric is too volatile and thinks with his heart and not his head. While that makes for someone who is undoubtably charismatic, it will not guarantee strong leadership nor a moral compass." "And what would you propose for those outside your care? If this is the context in which you will carry out your rule," Ulfric waves a hand towards the pair, "we should only focus on what is immediately in front of us and only worry about ourselves. You'd leave everyone else to rot. While you poke at me for seeing the forest yet not the trees, you would to the exact opposite." He sighs heavily as he rests his arms on the table. "You cannot have it both ways. No matter what, someone is going to lose. It is the nature of our current state of affairs, and it is the nature of war. Or perhaps you have forgotten that. While it is infinitely unfortunate that few should suffer for the many, that is how things are because we have allowed it to be so." Balgruuf draws one of his hands tightly into a fist as he tries to keep his calm. It is as if Ulfric forgot that he too fought in the Great War and that he knows the complexities of being at war. "While that is true, Ulfric, at least I did not plunge my country into further troubles by igniting a Civil War and exacerbating the problems we already had." "Oh, you mean that we would do what you did? Sit on our hands and do naught at all as we remain neutral and hope that our enemies do not come knocking on our gates? I hate to ruin the ending of your story, but it seems you need reminding of what happened not more than a year ago. I did come knocking, and the threat of my armies moved you. Now look where you are." "And what exactly do you mean by that?" Elisif asks sharply. Ulfric leans back in his chair, a cool expression on his face. "It means whatever you'd like it to mean."

#skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #ulfric stormcloak #dahlia wintersnow #tag game #winter writes

[faketrex]

WIP Wednesday

Everything is technically a WIP until I post it, thanks to(?) my brain. Here, therefore, is a snippet from my upcoming RWRB A Royally Big Bang (@aroyallybigbangrwrb) story.

Thank you kindly to @mikibwrites for the Sunday Sentences tag which I am nabbing now!

No-pressure tagging... @anincompletelist , @magicandarchery , @mikibwrites , @sparklepocalypse , and of course an open tag (please tag me back if you use it, I eat words like candy).

Anywho.

A 3+1 times public transit romcom? Yes, indeed.

CLICK BELOW FOR FIC SNIP

...

He's finishing up his story about the morning's train delay and his spontaneous, not-entirely-altruistic-but-still-definitely-a-good-deed coffee outing with Henry when Nora waves her fork in the air with a flourish.

"Aww, you had a meet-cute. Pretty much textbook as these things go, too. Nice.”

“I had a what?”

"A meet-cute. It's an industry term.”

Alex raises his eyebrows. “Exactly what industry are you working in these days?”

“Dude, if you're going to be obtuse, I'm honor-bound to bury you in reputable sources until you see the error of your ways.” Nora sets aside her fork and grabs her phone, a put-upon expression on her face. “Okay, here. Per our good pals at Merriam-Webster, ‘meet-cute,’ noun, is ‘a cute, charming, or amusing first encounter between romantic partners, as in a movie.’”

...

“You're way off-base, then. There was zero romance.” There hadn't been. Alex would have noticed, because he basically hadn't taken his eyes off Henry the whole time. If there had been even the slightest sign of reciprocated interest, he would have seen it.

“Oh, come on,” Nora scoffs. “Do you need me to make a list for you?"

#faketrex #faketrex writes #rwrbrbb #fandom: intro to international relations #wip: making headways #tag game

[ishgardian-salt-rock]

got tagged by @rarmaster to share a snip bit of my latest wip!! technically this bit is scrapped and im still sad about so now YALL get it

if you want to post a snip, feel free! i tag all who wanna

Emmet was back on track. He meant it.

Gear Station was up and running, even if there. Wasn't really anything he could do about the Multi Line. (It was still too painful to go near the cars, let alone imagine replacing-) The paperwork was up to date once again. All of their, his pokemon were back in fighting shape, care routines on track.

Emmet hasn't, however, put the brakes back on.

He has never run the station alone. He was a two-car [train]. He *has* to keep the Singles and Doubles lines running, even on fumes. Until his brother comes home, Emmet will keep things going as best as he can, no matter what.

Last night, there was emails from the league about. Something. He can't remember. The last email he sent back was dated 4:17 am.

Emmet has, perhaps, not been sleeping much.

Another challenger approached, and Emmet opened his mouth to  let his script tumble its way out on rote. Its hard to focus, after all...

The car shook around him. He swayed with it, a natural rhythm, a familiar companion.

He blinked, slow, like through molasses.

And then, Emmet collapsed.

And then.

(And then,)

Ingo stood up.

He groaned, and wondered briefly why he was on the floor in the first place. He had fallen asleep in his bedroll, for once, not on a surface so... cold.

Bracing himself, there was a thrumming beneath his feet. It echoed in his blood, and when Ingo met the eyes of the young man facing him, Ingo easily lost himself in that rhythm.

He knew this. This was a good dream, and he would ride these rails as far as he could.

#mint writes #submas #lmao i am actually writing submas after The Brainworms

[unmellowyellowfellow]

WiP Snippet + sneak peek at a new character!

recently i posted my first two recently drafted chapters of my wip i've been working on, and now this is a snippet from the new draft of chapter 2 (technically 3) continuing off of when the strange man approached Dixie's vehicle on the highway

(snip under the cut)

The ghostly eyes peered in towards Dixie without a blink; they examined her closely before the odd voice in her head rang through once more: “I am a friend, we have been waiting for you. Forgive the theatrics, but we must get moving.” He stood up from his bend and gestured behind him to a black pickup truck that Dixie hadn't noticed hidden in the darkness.

“Um, yeah! No thank you! I don’t need any more friends and I don’t get in the black pickup with strangers.” Dixie awkwardly chuckled. Her whole body jolted when a tough ‘click’ rang through her vehicle. Her doors popped unlocked.

“I am sorry to do this, little one. We must go; much to go over, many to meet.” It rang through her ears like a freight train and left her disoriented.

The door creaked open and waved in the wind. The man slowly outreached his hand towards Dixie and this time, a voice outside of Dixie’s head and from his lips, “I am Franklin,"

Her whole body felt numb and her mind even number. No coherent thoughts could make it through while the ringing from the thundering voice in her head still lingered. She stood from the car like she was in a trance and slowly followed the man who towered over her towards the truck, “Dixie,"

“Of course.”

#writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #authors #currently writing #wip: chalk mountain #writeblr intro #wip snip #wip snippet #my wips #wip #writing snippet

[futureman]

wip last line game

tysm for the tags, loves <;3 @joelsgreys @kiwisbell @mrsmando

alright so yes, this is technically four lines but they're extra short, so i'm cheating a little this time around! this snip is from an upcoming mike schmidt fic called ventilation error (and i'm unbelievably excited to dive back into my first fnaf love, the lore) (sorry mike)

There’s always a phone call. There’s always a clock. And there’s always restless anger lurking in every corridor. But this is where he’s supposed to be.

np! tags: @cavillscurls @morning-star-joy @hier--soir @psychedelic-ink @tinycozycomfort @familyvideostevie

#wip game #mike schmidt x reader

[sharkneto]

5 Rob 1234... These exist?!? How MUCH do they exist??? What are the odds that we will eventually see them someday?

(for WIP ask game)

I've shared a few snips of them before (found HERE), and god... hopefully? I've got so many goddamn WIPs and so much less time to write than I used to during covid times, I can't promise anything and especially can't promise anything being soon.

It's a concept I love a lot - I love Five and Rob's relationship, I love Rob constantly tricking Five into cooperating with therapy until he starts doing it willingly on his own. I like the idea of Five trying to keep everything tight to his chest and aggressively keeping it there until Rob can get him to understand that he doesn't have to do that, that he doesn't have to live like that.

But it's a rarely worked on WIP (partly hence why there's multiple files of different Rob and Five conversations rather than One Set WIP), around JT and the apocalypse fic and Number vs Apocalypse Week fic and random odds and ends I play around with.

So, would I like to share it? Absolutely. Will it be any time soon? Absolutely not.

Long snip for your time, though. This is 5 Rob 3

(cw: some discussion of the implications of Five's physical vs actual age in terms of his brain and cognition, mostly from the angle of Rob being excited about brains and Five unimpressed by it)

“What are you thinking about?” Five asks after Rob doesn’t start off their session in the first minute of their meeting starting.

Rob keeps considering Five through the screen. “Your brain.”

Five blinks. “You do that to everyone?”

“More or less. When they’re my patients, definitely. And if there might be something interesting going on. Yours definitely has a lot going on.”

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

The sit and stare at each other through the screen some more. Five leans back in his seat, eyes narrowed slightly. “If I ask for specifics for what you’re thinking about in regards to my brain, will it be a long winded way of talking about something I don’t want to talk about or is this genuinely a tangent about my brain?”

Rob hums. “If I’m clever enough maybe I can loop it back to your problems but currently I’m just thinking about your brain.”

“This a hobby of yours?”

“A little bit, I guess,” he says with a laugh. “Also my job, but it is why I went psychiatrist route instead of psychologist route. If you go to medical school they let you look at more brain scans.”

“I’m sure that’s super normal,” Five deadpans.

“How would you know, with your fifty-eight-year-old consciousness in a thirteen-year-old brain?”

Five crosses his arms. “It’s almost fourteen,” he defends.

Rob thinks about that for a second. They’ve sort of talked around this before, and maybe with the birthdate coming up they should talk about it some more. He’ll poke. “Aren’t we technically still six months or so away from your physical birthday?”

That gets an exasperated huff from Five. “October 1, 1989 is my actual birthdate and I’m keeping that, it’s a constant that’s never going to change short of me fucking up so badly I’m not born, in which case I’ve got bigger problems – although not ones I’ll care about because I won’t exist.” Rob keeps a straight face. He actually loves it when Five gets on these little time-travel-insane-consequence rambles. Feels like a sci-fi movie and Sarah can’t poke holes in it like she does when they watch time-travel movies. Five also really likes to get on these tangents, so they’re really good for getting him talking on days he doesn’t want to talk – not that seems to be a problem today.

Five pauses but Rob waits. He’s not done. The pause stretches for a couple seconds before Five huffs again. “I’m not moving my birthday because I arbitrarily and accidentally changed my linear position in time. October first isn’t my actual birthday anymore, either, but the amount of effort to figure out the new date is completely not worth the effort. I could do the much easier-to-calculate physical birthday in February—” he cuts himself off with a suddenly blank expression.

Rob frowns. “Five?”

“The day’s not February tenth anymore,” he says, brow lightly furrowed.

“Why not?”

He blinks again, obviously doing math. Rob doesn’t know what it is about Five’s expression that tells him that he’s doing math, but there’s a specific sort of blankness he gets when he’s running numbers. “February tenth was my physical birthday in the apocalypse,” Five says slowly, still a bit distant. Rob subtly slides his notebook over and grabs a pen, even though Five can’t see it with how Rob has his camera angled. “It was February tenth. Now, though, assuming this body is the body I originally jumped from 2002 in…. oh, it’s still just February second. That was dumb.”

“Did you want it to be more different?”

Five shakes his head, a small frown on his lips. “No. I don’t know why I thought that was going to be a significantly different date. April 2, 2019 versus March 24, 2019 are only a week apart. I could have done that math much smarter. Christ, I’m getting stupid in my old age.”

Rob smiles. They’ve looped back to what he’d originally been thinking about. “Or your brain is thirteen. And a half,” he adds when Five gives him a flat look.

“What does my brain’s age have to do with anything?”

“A lot, actually. Maybe. What do you know about brain development?”

Five stares at him for a long moment. “Nothing.”

“Ah, lucky for us I know a lot about it. The cliff notes version of it is that there are set developmental phases for brains from ages zero to around twenty-five. Twenty-five is when science and medicine generally agree that everything is up and functioning, it hangs out there for a few years before it starts going in the other direction. Before that point, it’s building up pieces and pruning connections that allow for better logic and more complex thinking.”

“You’re saying I’m half developed. And you’re declining,” Five says dryly.

Rob shakes his head, ignoring the easy insult. “No. Maybe. See, you’re a really interesting case of the physical versus consciousness. A really fascinating case study that could be a missing key in understanding where what makes us us sits. You, yourself, are fifty-eight, assuming you haven’t been messing with me and your whole family this entire time—”

“What would the point be of doing that?”

“—which I don’t think you are, which is why I accepted you as a patient. I don’t know how you’d even go about trying to parse it out, because it’s such a messy knot. It’s why we’ve been wondering about consciousness and the self for centuries, millennia. But you have such an extreme difference between the two that we might just be able to get a hint.”

It’s quiet as Rob finishes. Five sits considering that, expression slightly pinched. Rob waits.

As Five continues to not say anything, Rob’s gut sinks a little. Maybe he got a little too excited about this, misjudged how interested Five would be about it. He did just pretty blatantly say that this man, who is already stuck looking like a thirteen-year-old, might actually be stuck in a much more real way as a thirteen-year-old.

“Five—”

“You know,” Five interrupts, “you and Sarah make a bit more sense now.”

It isn’t clear if that’s supposed to be a compliment or an insult. Maybe it’s neither. Five usually likes to rub in insults. “How do you mean?”

 “You both like puzzles. You just hide your intensity better than she does.”

Rob might have gotten a little too enthusiastic about how interesting a case Five is. “I’m sorry, Five, I—”

Five waves a hand, tone still low. “Don’t apologize. You know I appreciate candor. Was this the point?”

They haven’t been here in a little bit – Five directing with questions. Rob did miscalculate this. He can let Five keep the control. “Was what my point?”

“To talk about how shit it is to be a fully grown man who looks like a child?”

“No. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about and thought you might find it interesting, too. I had planned on today being a bit lighter on Big Things after last week.”

Five nods slowly. He’s not looking at Rob. “Wow,” he says after another moment. “Bad job of doing that.”

“I’m seeing that now, yeah.”

Five forces them to sit in that. Rob glances at the clock. He has forty minutes to salvage unless Five ends the session early.

“I get the appeal,” Five says after another long minute. “I’m an enigma on a lot of levels. Most of my life doesn’t exist anymore and what it was is so statistically improbable it should be impossible and unbelievable. This isn’t what all this has been about, right?”

He slips that question in as if it’s just an unimportant end to his statement. That’s how Rob knows it’s important. Five likes to bluster, likes to misdirect to avoid feelings and hard topics. The exception is when he needs real, important information. He’s not good at direct lies and it’s obvious the tactic he figured out for learning information he needed while trying to stay under the radar is to be as casual and nonplussed as possible. If Five doesn’t seem to care about the answer, maybe the person giving it won’t care about giving it either.

“No, Five,” Rob says without hesitation. Waiting until Five looks back up at the screen, he continues, “I agreed to be your psychiatrist because I think you need the help to sort through the everything of your life and also think I’m a good fit for helping you do that. You seem to agree, since we’ve been doing this for three months now. My own, side interest of what might be going on in your head isn’t a part of it, outside of my thoughts on non-psychotherapy approaches that might help you should you ever decide you want to try some drugs or physical treatments. Today’s tangent is just that, a tangent that I think is interesting but is non-defining of you or the work we do here.”

Five nods at that with a small frown. “To help you along on that tangent, then, so we don’t have to do it again – it’s wrong.”

“Okay?”

“Your little theory has me half-developed and stupid, of which I am neither.” He waves off Rob as he opens his mouth to apologize and explain. “It’s fine, as you just explained to me your brain function is also declining due to your advancing age. It is interesting, though, that your go-to direction for me doing a simple math calculation in an indirect way was to blame it on a possibly under-developed brain rather than the fact that I’m thirteen years older than you are and am farther along on my brain slipping into mush.”

Rob swallows and waits.

“But how I know you’re wrong about my brain is because, while I don’t remember much from being thirteen, I do remember some decisions I made when I was that age. One very big, very dumb decision. With absolutely no concern for the consequences and no back-up plan. That’s the sort of thinking thirteen-year-old brains do. It was a childish and very poorly calculated mistake. And I’m not that stupid now.”

“Understood,” Rob says. That sits between them, a bit heavy which was not Rob’s goal for the day so he adds, “You’re dumb because you’re old, not because you’re young.”

A smile ghosts at the edge of Five’s mouth. “Exactly.”

“Glad we cleared this up. I’m sorry I pushed us here, I misjudged. We’re good?”

Five nods. “We’re good.”

#i rotate these two in my head a lot #i'm really soft for their relationship #but it takes a lot of thought to write therapy (ha who would have thought) and i've got so many other projects #with JT as the current priority when i've got brain and time to Write Specific Project #that it really doesn't get much work #so #snips and chatting about it is what we've got #five finds therapy wip #i should have a rob tag #snips #ask game

[rainpebble3]

WIP Whenever

Work in Progress, Wine in Pintglass? either or...

Anyhoo, I was tagged by the amazing @paraparadigm @thequeenofthewinter @dirty-bosmer @mareenavee and @kookaburra1701

I don't know who else to tag since most of us would tag the same people, so if you, yes YOU, see this and want to share a snip you are proud of, please do!

This is chapter 14 of my fic Layers of Snow and Ash.

Technically the chapter is finished, it just needs tidied but I can still share snippets!

Chapter 14: Lectures and Fire Salted Wine (title may change!)

Embarrassingly, she jumped when someone sat next to them, the room was filling up even more for the conjuration lecture. A group of three Dunmer smiled at them. The familiar skin colour and pointed ears eased her worries, but a new anxiety was born as they began to make small talk.

“El's juli taljed lah dunmer iru!” one of them exclaimed while smiling between Brelyna and Nera. She brushed her red hair aside and grinned expectantly.

Nera had no idea what she said but assumed it was a friendly greeting. Brelyna leaned over Nera and offered a hand. She smiled politely.

“It’s good to see some Dunmer here too, as much as I would love to converse in our tongue, it may lead to some potential issues with the others. You know how paranoid people can be.”

The Dunmer laughed. “Of course. My name’s Rayya. So where have you come from?”

“We’re Brelyna and Nera. We came from Port Telvannis, east of Vvardenfell. You?” Brelyna spoke calmly while Nera clenched her fists around her robes.

“Oh wow!” the Dunmer gasped, seeming impressed. “Well I came with my brother, Endsi, from Raven Rock, and Sulera came from Leyawiin.”

Brelyna smiled at them politely. “It’s a pleasure.”

“So,” Rayya continued after sneaking a glance at the next lecturer who was speaking softly to Master Tolfdir, “You came from Morrowind? Did you walk?”

Shaking her head, Brelyna flipped to a new page while Nera swallowed. “We came by boat.”

Rayya made a soft noise, “So you’ll have come through Windhelm then?”

Nera answered this time, despite her trembling hands rustling the paper. “Why do you ask?”

Scoffing Rayya shared a look with her brother. He spoke next while the one they called Sulera watched with curiosity.

“Well, have you seen the place? It’s disgusting… the way our kind are just…”

Nera nodded, cutting him off. “The Nords are particularly brutal there.”

Endsi laughed harshly. “Not them, our kind. Those Dunmer, they’re a disgrace! How dare they meekly just take that… honestly.”

With each word, Nera felt the ground crack underneath her. Her face flamed and her mind raced with a thousand possible replies. Brelyna’s leg tapped hers as subtly as possible and in the time it took for Nera to find an answer, the next lecturer called their attention.

“Thank you for your patience and curiosity. My name is Phinis Gestor, this college’s Master of Conjuration. I am aware that there are several different levels of mages among us, so I shall do my best to be succinct…”

The rest of his lecture was lost to the crashing in Nera’s ears. Her quill remained motionless on the paper while Brelyna was more engaged with this lecture than she had been with any of the others. Nera couldn’t pull herself out of her head enough to listen to him. The gnawing guilt which had persisted all day, tripled in its intensity, tearing holes in her gut and heart. Her parents’ faces danced across the parchment, the last expressions they had worn were of pained betrayal, closely matched by Nera’s but in that moment, their hurt was more justified than ever before. She had wanted to sharply rebuke the other Dunmer, to try and force them to see her side of things. That Windhelm was harder to escape than quicksand. Once a Dunmer got there, they’d be trapped by the appalling wages and mounting fear of Nords. However, by doing so, she’d out herself as a fraud. She sighed and looked away, staring out the window. Snowflakes fizzed past, moving faster than she had ever seen before. The winds were stronger here…

Also screens will probably suck because I am far too lazy to figure out how to add the 40ish extra characters to my game :D so just moody Nera screens to come!

#skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #the elder scrolls v: skyrim #modded skyrim #wip wednesday #writing #elder scrolls #tes #i should be writing #tesblr #thanks for the tag friend <3

[sharkface-daydreams]

alrighty, AU time. some of these are partially posted. some are partially written. some of them will never see the light of day and/or are only half formed ideas shaped by delirious whimsy. but i think they're fun.

tagging @autisdicksimmons bc this is your fault (affectionate)

Thread Gulch Chronicles - the 4th wall touching cross stitch au. still haven't decided if i want to do anything related to framing

Andy the bomb but turn him into a ship ai and give him a crush on a dirty little shisno au - partially posted as of rn but the guy who works on this isn't out very much so it's in limbo kinda

Tripartite "villains in love" au (i know the name is stupid, bite me) - all take place in the same universe. stassney lives and ends up Stockholm syndromed with Felix who he rescues from dying at the bottom of the tower, locus realizes Doyle's romantic notions of soldiers are actually what's correct and either they fuck off together and Doyle fakes his death or locus surrenders idk haven't decided, and sharkface and price say fuck all this shit and fuck off into the aether for a happy ever after. there's some bits posted as the Unfettered [WIP snips] on ao3

Afterburner - Hargrove recovers Sigma and Sigma is given to sharkface to assist in killing freelancers (underdeveloped, that's literally all i have written lmao)

Double Triple - the triplets and the trio trying to make the best of their ice planet abandonment with hijinks and nonsense and dwindling supplies

Foxtrot Echoes - the honeypot au: version 1 contains no actual York ai but it's completely contrived and hinges on sharkface being a good enough actor to fool Carolina, wash and epsilon in order to get closer enough to kill them. bro fails step 1 tho and falls for Carolina and has to come clean thereby destroying the whole reason he'd confessed. angst!!! version 2 contains actual York ai but he's an early attempt by freelancer to acquire another ai so he's not technically a smart ai but he's still an ai and his and shark's psyches bleed into each other a bit

Heartstrings au - I only have Gravity posted bc tbr the rest of this is completely self indulgent Locington schmoop but I'm always a sucker for a good betrayal plotline

Shark mechanic au! the feds n news scoop up a fishy enemy and as they need all hands on deck he helps them as a mechanic and bonds a bit with the ducklings

modern band au - shark in a band with wash, south, pills and sleeves, all sorts of drama. not very well developed but lots of Sharklina angst

Xmas sharcus bit - this might get written eventually. modern au where the mercs gang gathers at Locus' for the holiday and during an argument with Felix, shark breaks an ornament that's really important to his bf locus… then works really hard to fix it but it's like glass u know so it's a huge pita. idk. Christmas schmoop, i was miserable on antivirals when i did this lol

the Sharklix "get worse together" enemies who fuck to kinda friends who fuck and also get revenge together au. unlikely to be posted, it's a little too self indulgent lol

games of the heart - au where Sharkface realizes he can't beat the freelancers physically so he suckers wash into falling for him so he can turn around and shred his heart to pieces. underdeveloped, self indulgent

get your kicks - the long haul trucker/greasy spoon waiter lolix au featuring unhappily married locus and licherally dying of boredom working for tips along the desert freeway Felix (thanks Ross for the line i took and ran with 💖) also the road is route 66 and modeled after the old route 66 on earth for novelty reasons

Lazarus - locus does his good guy shtick and returns often to help a sangheili colony and winds up with an alien baby. someone activates a temple of regeneration on chorus, and now alive Felix goes hunting for revenge. parts of this posted in scribbles n bits but it's not a full thing in the first place

the Locnut farm family rivalry au with donut and his two moms next door to locus and his two dads who are in a Midwestern rivalry but the two of them are getting along much too well

MaceFace! Mason and Sharkface run into each other at physical therapy and get chummy and eventually set out together for revenge since Lolix and the freelancers are both on Chorus

The Outriders AU - an enormous crossover undertaking with characters in the Outriders game universe… this will probably never be done but i got great plans for it. the mercs and a few others get freaky superpowers, there's an epic quest for info to secure survival, and Dr Church is trying to reverse engineer the superpowers unethically and causing problems so what else is new

MetaNut meet-cute/horny au where donut doesn't get shot bc Meta gets attached and also yanks donut over the cliff with him during the fight but they both survive and work their way back up to civilization while everyone else assumes them dead. plural meta au ✌️ also they have a little cottage with a garden and bees

the "no-PFL" SharkPrice AU where Price is hired at the same Charon building untoasted Sharkface is working security for and also Price and Dr Church are bitter exes and Church thinks Price is cradle-robbing when he sees them together

red Team Shark AU where Boose and Shark are friends and bond over losing your friends

Tear The Throat - also known as the SharKey AU (the one that comic is about) where Sharkface gets the key because he grabs it and tosses it to Felix not knowing it bonds to one person. This is a Chorus-loses AU bc they can just turn the key on the purge and call it a day and cash in.

WashFace au where Wash and Terrence were together before whatever shit happened that got Wash almost court martialed and sent to PFL, and Wash doesn't shoot when Sharkface makes his little "as long as I'm alive" speech bc he recognizes him when he takes off his helmet. and shark is like wtf you're supposed to be DEAD and gdi he can't kill wash now this is fucking unfair

extremely underdeveloped Dragon Age au with Sharkface as an apostate fire mage but like that's literally all there is to it lmao … shape shifter with dragon form could be fucking cool tho

fucking hell i forgot the Yurch au, that shit just started sprawling. yellow church gets stuck in cabooses head after church's time travel shenanigans in s3? and then yoinked out into a spare Android body and now there's a new guy on Blue team but he's church but he's not. blue church gets sent to rats nest with the others instead of isolated and they rescue all the fragments. EL/NOD AU. this is also what i made my freelancer OCS for but only Rhode island is actually in the story until they get to chorus. few variations on that one

#rvb #Red vs Blue #why not let's maintag this sh #au Central #most of these involve sharkface but like did you expect anything else of me lol #but yeah I've had terrible writers block for months so these all just get backed up in my head with nowhere to go :/ #sorry i forgot the yurch au i had to tack that on there #I THINK I FIXED ALL THE TYPOS IF I FIND ANY MORE I'LL DIE

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

Hi!! I'm late to the wip game asks but 6 we died and came back right sounds like I wanna hear a lil snippy snip 👀👀😘

my darling so sorry i am so late answering this! i never got notified and it got buried, stupid tumblr

we died and came back right is essentially buck and eddie being friends in high school and then one night they get into a car accident and die together. they get brought back by the paramedics but in the interim their souls wound around one another and this gives them the ability to feel and see the other when they are in pain. buck's family ends up moving away from texas and he and eddie get separated and don't see one another again (technically) until eddie joins the 118 and that'd when they really start to figure out what they've been experiencing through the years

#ryan gets mail #buddie wip

[momotonescreaming]

I would do anything to see more of bra! I might have to keep sending requests for it because I'm so looking forward to seeing it complete

oh my goodness, that is quite the compliment!! I don't quite know what to do with myself haha. I'm all a fluster. Sorry this is so late, I just got home from work.

Finally giving in and putting this next snip under a cut.

Make me write for wip weekend! (even though it's technically Monday here)

And then she’s standing there next to the edge of her childhood bed, breasts bare, toes curling into the carpet, looking down at Steve. His lips are shiny and wet, plump and bruised, and he looks a little drunk at the sight of her. At the feel of her.

She uses this moment to catch her breath, her thoughts, and realises just how wet she is. Steve has her slick and dripping, underwear absolutely soaked. She’s throbbing, aching, and Barb needs Steve’s hands on her immediately. Needs him to release the pressure, spark the electricity inside her, help her let loose.

Hands dancing along her thighs — light, teasing - Barb watches as his eyes flicker lower, take in the sight of her and the damp spot on her underwear. He licks his lips, eyes darkening, and he hooks a finger in the band, pulling it down. Exposes her pubes, almost exposes her, and it’s too slow. It’s not slow enough. She needs him now, and hard, and fast, but also slow, and gentle, loving and tender as he slowly takes her apart. It coils inside her like a fire catching the wind, sending flames and embers spiralling around her.

“Steve,” She says, almost a whisper. A promise. A question. Doesn’t doubt that Steve can hear it all in her voice.

“I’ve got you,” He whispers back, leaning in slightly, tilting his head. “Okay Barbie?”

“Okay,” Barb replies, and the pleasure, the anticipation, coils further.

#ask #anonymous #wip weekend #momo writes #starbara #spicy

[dru-reads-writeblr]

What is one cool thing that you like about your WIP or have read about in someone else's WIP?

Hi 'Mous!

Since this is my "promote other Writeblrs" blog I'll answer for ones I've seen around (if you want me to answer for myself, feel free to send another ask to @druidx).

The 'utility artificers' in @ashen-crest's Rosemond St Series (it is technically a series now, right?). I'm a big sucker for 'high fantasy, but make it urban' (as opposed to urban fantasy's 'take IRL and give it magic' (though I do like that - but I digress)). Plus the whole setup she's got going on in that series is a huge itch-scratcher for me, filling the niche left by people such as A. Lee. Martinez and KE Mills.

Cyberpunk hackers, my beloved! @digital-chance's Nova Futurum looks awesome, and their main character in that is a hacker. I'm excited to see more of their work!

I'd be horribly remiss if I didn't mention @artbyeloquent's Hill To Die On. This looks at the paranormal from a distinctly Jewish POV which is utterly fascinating to me, and also Elo's writing style is just 🤌️ *mwah*!

Talking of writing style, for that and her just truly epic worldbuilding, I have to recommend @faelanvance. Both The Last Wild Place and The Whale God's Wife** will be an epic of the ages from what I've seen from the excerpts and snips. I'll take 'things I want on my shelf' for 10, Alex 😅️

And last, but not at all least, is my darling @aquadestinyswriting's The Wizard's Tale and The Trouble with Meredith. Now, with these, I'm highly biased, because the 'cool' thing about these are they're set in our highly modified version of the Fighting Fantasy World of Titan TTRPG. Also her characters are epic and I loves 'em ur honour.

...Oops. I was supposed to go off with this right? 😅️

Anyway, thanks for the question and have fun checking out some of these superb writers, 'Mous!

🫖️🌿️

(** Fae - is that the right intro post for that WIP? Please let me know if not so I can fix)

#meta writing #others writing #answered ask #Anonymous

[rainybyday]

Master Post

Ok hi everyone, just going to make a pined post so-

Any ideas, prompts, aus, or lines of thoughts/mind rambles I make can be used by anyone and I give permission for anyone to take and write them and/or add.

I prefer if anyone of you to @ me if you do ‘cause I would love to read your writing, additions or art that you made from any of my ideas.

Below are a Master Post of every post idea I make so just a heads up! (Also aide note, its from oldest to newest from top to bottom)

Danny Phantom x BatFam

Gotham Graveyard

Gravekeeper

Danny and Jason Ecto Connection 

Ghost King Danny Clean Up Headache

Why not Damian?

Sixth Sense Idea [Need to revisit]

Wayne Spirit AU (the dimension travel from dp universe to dc universe)

Wayne Spirit Add ons Pt1

Wayne Spirit Add ons Pt2

Wayne Spirit Add ons Pt3

Ectoplasm and Ecto-Energy

Death, Life, Time, Space, Fate and Universe

Twin AU - The protege and the failure

Twin AU - The protege and the failure add ons

Twin AU - Meeting Dani first

Twin Au - Met at the worst time [Come back to add more]

Twin AU - Danny knew who is father was

Twin AU - Danny trying avoid Damian

Twin AU - Damian hates Jason

Twin AU???? Maybe???

Not Twin AU - Danny is elder sibling [Come back to add more]

Elder Sibling - Danny felt Damian die

Tim and Danny internet friends 

Tim and Danny internet friends add on

A single father and a struggling boy (and they meet halfway) [Also known as “Family before heroes” au]

Family before heroes snip-it

Danny is Damian

It was only once!

Dick mistakes Danny for Damian

Vlad blabbed to the wrong person

It started with the blob ghost

Al Ghul’s aren’t all knowing

Talia sees Danny coming out of the Pit

Danny haunting/pranking Dick

Jason is Jazz’s decedent

Lazars Pits are gone

Bats will go along with it

Biological Kent

Traveling Space Auditorium

Amity Park is a Liminal Hot Spot

True Names

Serine Summoning

Amity and Gotham being compared

The Reality of being Dead

“How much you’ve lost?”

Vlad Masters

Alfred Mistaking Danny

Amity Park’s Descendants

Healing Gotham/Temporary Owner

Unsure Adoption 

Tim and Danny missing

Danny mistakes Bruce for Jack

Amity Parkers are taking over

Knowledge of Death tradition

Ecto Biology Ramble Thoughts

Near Death Ghost

Danny was Alfred AU

Flower Shop AU

Flower Shop AU Pt2

Flower Shop AU Pt 3

Flower Shop AU Pt4

Flower Shop AU Pt5

Flower Shop AU Pt6

Lycoris Radiata Chap 1

Lycoris Radiata Chap 2

Lycoris Radiata Chap 3

Jazz AU Pt 1

Jazz Au Pt 2

Danny Phantom

Ghost Speak (Mostly DP anyways)

Nervous body reaction

Sea and Night

Dying Stars

Liminal Jazz

Technical ghost age

Danny a meta before death?

Butterflies

Dimensions Bad Parents  

Deaths not so scary

Cold summoning

Tears

Rejects mentally 

Immortal Reincarnation

Abyss

Star freckles

Why did you become a hero?

Batfam

Tim and Damian's sibling angst

Time Travel Phase

Chaotic Time Travel 

Billy Batson and Batman/Batfam 

Magic Billy Adoption

Billy Adoption

Digimon Frontier

What if - Opposite spirits  

Others

Wip Challenge - Aug 12th

Wip Explain - Hiding what magic we have

Soulmates

Ask - Wrong Name

Ask - Amity Descendants

Ask - Tim and his unhealthy way to stay awake

Ask - Flower shop au love

Ask - Flower shop au love 2

Ask - Flower shop au love 3

Ask - Flower shop au love 4

Ask - “I love you”

Ask - AO3 Account?

Ask - AO3 Account?

Ask - word correction 

Gifts

Secret Santa - Dp x Dc

#master post

[daedrabait]

Snippet Someday

I was tagged by @dirty-bosmer to do this very interesting tag game! I loved it and it helped me to look back on my writing, especially since I’ve been having some trouble appreciating my work.

tagging: @argisthebulwark @hezenvengeance @mmmchimken and whoever else would like to take part (I’m not sure how many of my followers are writers)

Rules: Revisit an old fic (or earlier chapters of your current WIP) and share a snip from:

Your first chapter

Your favorite chapter

Your most challenging chapter

Alternatively, if you don’t write longfic, feel free to share your one-shots. Provide as much or as little commentary as you want.

From Dust and Dim Sunshine

First Chapter: (technically numbered ch. 2 in ao3 due to prologue)

Theo took a slow drink from the wine he'd ordered. It wasn't as sweet as the spiced wine he usually liked, but he wanted to expand his horizons. There were tougher things he would need to face than drinking sour wine if he was to persist in his endeavors.

Just then, someone walked into the inn. Theo would not have heard if not for the soft echo of the door closing. This person's steps were soundless; they seemed to glide across the old and worn wooden floor. Theo turned to look back at them, expecting a small, nimble individual. This stranger was definitely not small.

He stood at least a few inches taller than Theo at most; the man wasn't very tall, but he was definitely broad. He wore black leathers and a cloak that didn't so much as rustle; Theo didn't think it was an enchantment on the armor, but rather the person wearing it was trained to move in such a way that produced no sound.

There were several daggers strapped to the stranger's hips, and a well-stocked arrow quiver strapped to his back. The black arrows stored within it seemed to suck in the light, blacker than the darkest night. Daedric. There was a matching bow slung on his back as well, twinning the arrows with its raw and eerily powerful aura, its true crimson grooves offset by darker-than-midnight ebony.

Theo had to get a better look at this intimidating stranger. He was remarkable even from a distance.

Favorite Chapter: Chapter 8. I’m not sure if it could qualify as my all-time favorite chapter because I’m really indecisive, but it’s definitely got one of my favorite scenes and one I’d like to share here most.

He spotted Griffin walking out the door of one of the nearby shops. The circles beneath the man's eyes were darker than usual today, the cool toned purple tinge of them standing out against his golden brown skin and upon the pale scar marring the right side of his face.

"Theo," he had said in his soft, lovely voice by way of greeting. It set Theo's sore heart fluttering. "I have something for you."

The warrior had handed him a ring. It was set with a deep blue sapphire that caught the dim sunshine and reflected it against its silver band. It hummed with magical power; enchanted, with a magicka enhancer.

The ring was beautiful. It slid easily onto Theo's middle finger. It would have been a little large on his bare hand, but it was a perfect fit with the thickening barrier of the glove he wore. He stroked his index finger over the smoothly cut gem, his heart swelling.

It was a peace offering. An expensive one, too; Theo had an inkling of what such jewelry - especially the enchanted kind, must've cost. At first guilt had gripped him like a vice; he did not want Griffin to think he needed appeasement, and he was the one who was supposed to be paying Griffin for his endeavors on the Imperial's behalf. But the gift... he had to admit it felt nice. He tried not to think of it as anything but a material present and not one that meant any sort of sentiment. Besides - of course the apprentice wizard's magic was useful. The magicka enhancement helped widen his mana pools. It wasn't about the jewelry, but rather the utility in which the enchantment provided. But the ring... He could not deny that the ring was lovely. It wasn't just any plain band.

Most Challenging Chapter: Chapter 14. It’s the newest chapter in the fic and by far the hardest one I’ve written as of late, with 6k words of angst and lots of difficult interactions.

"You don't..." Griffin trailed off and then sighed, "The treatment isn't right, no matter what."

"So you're the only person who is allowed to be unkind to me, Griffin?" The words poured out of him, bitter and wavering, as a fresh wave of tears dampened his eyes. "Why do you even pretend to care about my feelings? We are just... partners, not even friends." He wiped away his tears with shaky fingers, careful to avoid his glasses lenses. It hurt so much to say the word 'partners' when for a split second he'd lead himself to believe that they were lovers instead.

Griffin flinched, and it felt like another stab to the heart. He sighed again. It must've been truly exhausting for him to have to pick up the pieces of a pain he inflicted upon himself, Theo thought bitterly.

"That doesn't mean I hate you, Theo... We are partners, but I don't want to see you hurt by others either."

The Imperial wanted to scream at him. I fell in love with you, and I thought you loved me too, but you broke my heart. You led me on. You pretended and I fell for it.

"Your job is to keep me safe from physical dangers - not to treat me like glass. Remember that." He turned away, quick, and with this newfound burst of anger he walked out of Dragonsreach. He didn't look back - didn't need to. Griffin would follow on his own time.

#tag games #skyrim fanfiction #dust and dim sunshine #oc: theo #oc: griffin #my writing #my ocs #skyrim #tes #tesblr