#daily fic snippet

[bedlamsbard]

750 words written today. (Yes, "productivity skyrockets the instant the semester ends" continues to hold true.) Stressed out over work stuff that's out of my hands -- it's something I'm going to have to deal with, but I don't know yet how I'm going to have to deal with it. Plus the world's worst-timed conference this week, so I am also very stressed about that. I'll be fine once I'm there but the entire build-up process is excruciating.

Snippet from Of Home Near chapter 21.

Steve grinned, though there was an edge to it.  “You ever heard of a dumbbell tenement?” “No,” Natasha said warily. He traced a rough outline in mid-air with one finger and said, “State law said that every room had to have a window opening to plain air, so they started building the apartments with these little slitty air shafts between them in order to put exterior windows into every room.  Not a courtyard, you couldn’t get in there, but it opened to the air.  People used them to dump garbage in, so you can imagine the smell in summer.”  His mouth worked briefly, but all he said was, “They changed that law later.” “So not somewhere you want to live now,” Natasha said. “Well, they haven’t made them like that since before I was born,” Steve said. “The state changed the law again.  And now everything in that neighborhood costs about a billion dollars a month in rent, so…”  He shrugged matter-of-factly.  “Why?” “I was just thinking.  You don’t want to move to Ohio, do you?” Steve’s eyebrows shot upwards and he said, his voice very grave, “I’d rather be dead.  Or in New Jersey.” Natasha punched him gently in the arm and teased, “I thought that was your fate worse than death.” “Guilty as charged.  Remember when Wheaton – where Camp Lehigh was – put up that big ‘Home of Captain America’ banner?”  “Yeah, and you almost cried and the Brooklyn Borough Board sued them?” Steve grinned wryly. “That’s the one.”  He dropped his head and touched his lips lightly to hers.  “I went through Ohio when I was with the USO back in ’43.  It seemed nice.” “I don’t really want to live in Ohio,” Natasha admitted.  “I just miss the way I felt when I lived there.  Also, if we moved there then aliens would probably attack.”

[setmeatopthepyre]

Hostage [@118dailydrabble day 41] [part of antarct-fic | bucktommy | 118 words] [precedes this]

Lucy likes Tommy, she really does. He's a good guy, an excellent pilot. His gallows humor plays well with hers. Even better, he never objects to a risky rappel, encourages it, in fact, if it means he gets to try an obscure maneuver with a name like aft skid cobra. He holds his own at karaoke.

The problem is that Tommy is also a dramatic son of a bitch who would rather eat glass than admit he's struggling.

...unless he's had a drink or two.

Hungry Heart appears in the up next-box on screen. Lucy lunges.

She gets his arm. “Aaand you're done holding everyone hostage with Springsteen. Time to talk about feelings like a grown-up. C'mon.”

-

this drabble was made possible by @frogsinflannel (for sending me the kindest message ever and reminding me how fun writing tommy+lucy banter is) and @rcmclachlan's tommy is batshit insane actually post (that is 100% canon to me)

[actuallyrandompersondaily]

"Imagine if the you from our first shift together could see us now."

"I'm like 90% sure that the reason you pissed me off so much is because seeing your abs awakened something in me, so maybe he'd be into this," Buck admitted. "Like, I was definitely insecure about my place at the station, don't get me wrong, but there's a reason I dealt with that by trying to show off to you in the gym. Hell, I did it again when I thought you were replacing me with Tommy, and I was still somehow surprised to realise I was as in love with you as I was interested in him."

[odythreesome]

wip wednesday <3

thanks hugh @tanktopdiaz for the tagging the world @ large & giving me an excuse to post this lil mayravi secret relationship snippet :D

“Twist my arm, why don’t you,” he mutters, chasing after her mouth, then looking up at her through his lashes when she stays out of reach. “Finally gives me a good reason to turn down the matchmaking services of the 118.”

May’s nails dig into his neck, involuntary. Ravi is smiling crookedly, like he knows exactly what he’s asking for and expects to get it. 

“Oh, really?”

“Uh-huh.”

He’s really almost unbearably sexy when he’s all self-satisfied like this, sprawled out underneath her and grinning lazily, her pastel rainbow French tips pressing little crescent notches into his skin.  

“The matchmaking services,” May says with a tone of faux-consideration. “Interesting. Guess they should probably know you already belong to somebody, shouldn’t they?” 

“They really should,” Ravi says dreamily, and May gets to work affectionately mauling the side of his throat. 

He locks himself in the bathroom for nearly twenty minutes the next morning and emerges with her peach-toned color corrector smeared all over his neck, looking hunted. 

“May,” he tells her very seriously while she fixes it for him. “They’re going to kill me. One time, Buck nearly took my head off with a chainsaw and that was before he knew we were having sex.”

“I don’t even want to imagine what Hen’s gonna do to you,” she agrees easily, wiping off the last of the concealer. “Babe, I don’t really have anything for this in your shade, I think you’re just gonna have to deal.”

“Not even contour?” He asks with such real distress that May shakes apart with helpless giggles. She loves how big and sparkly his eyes get, and in the full rainbow of feelings, too. Love and happiness, usually. Today: fear!

She smacks kisses all over his face and says, “Not even contour. Come on, I’ll take one last shower with you before Buck kills you with a chainsaw.” 

“Maybe I’ll just crack my head open and die in the shower instead,” Ravi muses, dutifully following her back into the bathroom. “Now that would be the way to go.”

[vickyvicarious]

....and then Van Helsing has the absolute gall to tell Lucy not to wrinkle her forehead because Arthur won't like it

Van Helsing knows NOTHING of what the young men like. He's directly contradicted in such claims at least twice for Arthur alone (wrinkles, jealous over giving blood) and I seem to recall him making a very similar stumble about Jonathan also. He needs to stop giving any sort of relationship advice because he's wrong every time.

In fact, you know what, let me fix that wrinkle scene right now:

"These are for you, Miss Lucy," he said. "For me? Oh, Dr. Van Helsing!" "Yes, my dear, but not for you to play with. These are medicines." Here Lucy made a wry face. "Nay, but they are not to take in a decoction or in nauseous form, so you need not snub that so charming nose, or I shall point out to my friend Arthur what woes he may have to endure in seeing so much beauty that he so loves so much distort. Aha—"

"Actually, Professor, Arthur is quite fond of it." Lucy blushed prettily when Van Helsing raised his bushy eyebrows at her interruption. Yet far from retracting her statement, or relaxing her expression, she instead took up a flower and smelled it with an exaggerated thoughtfulness. Her nose twitched, and her forehead puckered. She had a small smile, and her voice was firm, though low as she continued: "When I wrinkle up my face, that is..."

There was a momentary pause. The Professor blinked at her, then glanced over to me.

"Oh, er, yes." I cleared my throat, feeling expected to contribute but unsure what to say. "I have heard him say as much, myself."

Lucy smiled wider, biting slightly at her lip, and the stem twirled in her fingers as she ducked her face down to hide her expression. After a moment, Van Helsing cleared his throat loudly, and resumed his speech. "Ah, yes, the eyes of a lover see beauty only even in distortion. Still - this is medicinal, but you do not know how..."

[psychicthepsychic-daily]

“emptiness? yeah i would know all about that” said void /j

[lightgriffinsect]

psychic’s review of official void plush

[tetzoro]

also good morning friendz and happy tuesday !! it’s soooo cold out today so if you need me i will be tucked away in zoro’s arms ❤︎ please remember to unclench your jaws + relax your shoulders hehe me and your blorbos are rooting for you to have a wonderful day !! :3

[seventh-district]

tfw you're trying to write a Genshin fic but ur memory is shit so u have to leave urself [REMINDERS] to come back and correct your spelling/figure out NPC names/scour the wiki to double-check character and story lore, because if u even so much as glance away from the google doc in the moment you'll lose all of your writing momentum

coughs [link to some other (better) excerpts from the fic since the post didn't make it into the tags and i'm too lazy to remake it]

[spilledstars1234]

my new link click fic, currently nicknamed "golden" as just a placeholder name, has reached around 5K words, though i'm still barely at the beginning, haha! Still unsure of whether it'll be a multi-chap fic or just a oneshot, but i'm leaning more towards the first option. though i'm not sure yet, so we'll see! it is one of my many WIPs i have for link click, but honestly? I'm having the time of my life with this one! i'm so excited to share it.

and just for fun, i'm just gonna drop a little snippet from it here!

i can tell this fic might take a long while to finish (perhaps even longer than how long my last LC fic, 'Thanatophobia', took), but it's been such a fun ride so far! So please, please wait for me!!!

[bedlamsbard]

600 words written today, which means that for the first time this month I actually made word count. Weird brain day -- on a hair trigger today, so it's a good thing it was a Sunday and I wasn't dealing with anyone. I also didn't go outside, which is typical for Sundays and something I really need to work on.

Snippet from Of Home Near chapter 21.

Someone knocked on the door. It was muffled through the closed bathroom door and the sound of the running shower, but Steve leaned over to shut off the water anyway.  The knock came again and Clint called, “Cap?” “I’m going to kill him this time,” Natasha said through her teeth, jerking the shower door open and reaching for a towel.  She passed another one to Steve, whose expression suggested that at the moment he agreed, and wrapped hers around herself before stalking out of the bathroom and over to the door. Clint stared at her in horror when she yanked it open.  “Do you two ever do anything besides have sex?” “Yes, you may recall a recent occasion where we went to space,” Natasha snapped. “And we’re not even having sex right now because you keep interrupting!” Steve came up behind her and said, “What’s going on, Clint?” managing not to sound annoyed by the intrusion. Clint, whom Natasha knew was straight except when required otherwise by the exigencies of the job, was briefly stunned into silence by the sight of a dripping wet Captain America wearing nothing but a towel and the chain that held his dog tags and wedding ring.  It certainly wasn’t on Natasha’s behalf; he had seen her in considerably less than a towel before, either because they were picking shrapnel out of each other’s guts or because they were changing mid-op.

[setmeatopthepyre]

Flame

[@118dailydrabble day 1] [part of my tommy begins snippets]

Tommy Kinard does not keep skeletons in closets, but he does keep their ghosts in the back of his sock drawer: his dog tags, a house key, an engraved lighter.

To this day, he doesn't know how Eli had managed it. Only remembers how he'd pressed its familiar weight into Tommy's hand as they'd stood side by side in their dress blues. How tracing the words had kept his hands from shaking.

B.E. to bad habits T.K.

He'd found the probie smoking on the roof after his first bad call. It became their thing for each one after.

Now, Tommy tries to remember only the friendly flame that lit their shared cigarettes, and not the inferno that had followed.

[actuallyrandompersondaily]

Eddie's touch was soft as he helped Buck with his shoes and pants, and Buck sleepily complied with his movements. Once Eddie was done, Buck heard him start to quietly make his way out of the room, and let out a noise of protest.

"You all good?"

"Stay," he requested, grasping blindly in Eddie's direction.

"I—"

"Please?"

Eddie sighed, but it sounded amused, and he made his way back around the bed.

"Okay, I'll stay."

Buck felt the mattress dip slightly as Eddie got in, and rolled to bury his head in the crook of Eddie's neck before relaxing fully.

"G'night," he mumbled, and Eddie brought up a hand to gently card through his hair before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Good night, Buck."

[wayfaringauthorofficial]

WIP EXCERPT!!

The sun beat down hard on her as she pulled that basket along, placing peaches inside with delicate hands. Frances did her best to stay focused and determined, knowing the level of excellence that was required of such a woman in her position. What would Mr. Deveaux do to her, should she dare to stray from the path that had been laid for her? Would she end up in a cell, like all the other girls, or would she be dealt a worse, more permanent fate, like that of her brother? The thought sent chills down her spine, sent her head deep into a pit she was almost certain was an early grave, waiting to bury her alive.

She tried not to think of those things during her everyday life, but the fear ebbed at the front of her mind anyway. Frances knew by now that pleasing the men in this place was no easy feat. There were nights where she sat in her room alone for hours, wondering how she had made it this far, and what she might have to do to keep her place here, to keep her little bit of freedom, if she could call it that. She never got an answer, and sure as hell wasn’t going to muster up enough strength to voice her concerns. Women in this place were better obedient, seen and not heard. She knew that.

One, two, three, four. Drop. Again, then again. Her back screamed for relief, sweat raining from every pore on her body. Frances craved a moment’s rest, a drink of water. But she would have to show her elders that she deserved it. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mrs. Hadlon, hair pulled back into a tight bun with not a strand out of place. Frances remembered when she was younger, when all of these women seemed strong and beautiful, when she looked up to them. That was before she came of age, before she knew the truth about it all. Now, she could only look at her elders with fear or anger. What else did they deserve?

The light was almost gone when she finished loading up the wagon, then locked eyes on Mr. Price. He cocked his head for her to join him in their walk home. Knowing she couldn’t say no, Frances put up her skirts and broke into a jog until they were side by side. His hand was cold as it gripped her waist, sending Frances’ heart into her throat. “Did you work hard today?” It sounded like a threat, as if he was looking for a reason to take his anger out on her.

“Yes, sir,” she gulped, doing her best not to let her gaze or mind wander as he led her to their so-called home. Lights were switched on as families started to spend their leisure time together, cooking dinner and preparing for bed. What she wouldn’t give to see the world, to be able to spend time with her family on her own terms, no one else’s. In the back of her mind, she was sitting on the floor with Elias, laughing as he made up a magical land, free of harsh rules and even sterner masters, a place where she was free to do and love the things and people she pleased. At night, Frances often fell asleep wondering if such a future would ever be possible for her, for any of them.

Mr. Price didn’t respond, instead just stepped into the mansion and dropped his hat on the table. He didn’t have to tell her to hang it up, didn’t have to order Frances to pour him a drink. She knew what he wanted; maybe that was the only reason she was still walking free, still alive. But no matter what his reasons were, no one in this twisted place would ever dare to ask. The punishment for forgetting their place wasn’t a pleasant one. Cold, dirt cells, with more rodents than people. Only a few rays of light would grace the prison every day, otherwise you were cloaked in darkness. Just walking by the place sent shivers down Frances’ spine, sending tears to her eyes thinking of what August might be going through. Bile rose in her throat as she remembered just what the prison guards were capable of. The brutality they could deal at the drop of a hat.

What would their relationship be, if he was different? If this was a different place, a different reality? Maybe they could be happy, have a more familial relationship, rather than this nightmare. Maybe, Frances thought, he would approve of her choices rather than punish everyone she loved for being young, for falling for who he and Mr. Deveaux deemed was the wrong man. She would be able to live with her family, could still see her brother smile as she danced around in the meadows. Tears sprung in her eyes, a lump throbbing in her throat, as the memories came flooding in. And they stayed, pressing on her, making her want to explode. Each pulse was stronger, more earth-shattering than the one before, no matter how many times she willed it to stop.

Mr. Price nodded at other residents or children as they walked, Frances making sure to keep her face composed, eyes on the ground. No one could question her pain if they couldn’t see it. No one would notice her breaking if she remembered her role in the game. And that was all he asked of her, wasn’t it? All he had ever wanted from her was for her to play the dedicated wife, whether the role was true or not. He wanted Frances to provide, to nurture the young. This was all practice, he would tell her some nights as he locked the front door and trapping her along with it, for the long, inevitable future they would spend together. Maybe it sent shivers down her spine, made Frances want to scream and tear the very skin off of her bones, but she couldn’t react. She couldn't say yes, or no. So she would smile, barely. She would show little to no emotion in her eyes, as was expected of her. He wouldn’t hate her for that. He couldn’t.

[halonicheart]

𝓜𝓪𝔂𝓫𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓶𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓪 𝓲𝓽 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓫𝓮 ‘𝓱𝓲𝓶’… 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓼, 𝓲𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷’𝓽 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻. 𝓘𝓽 𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓽 𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽.

“He’s here! He has to be!”

The chase led all the way to the Crystal Tower. The streets thankfully barren. “Please Mosha! Listen to me!” By the time Lovette catches up, they are already in the ocular. She grabs Mosha from behind and apologizes, all the while trying to calm her down.

The Exarch is there, stunned by the sudden intrusion. Mosha stills at the sight of him. Lovette mistakes it for her being calm and lets go with another apology on her lips. But the apology quickly turns into a gasp when she sees Mosha throw herself at the Exarch, arms wrapped tightly around him.

She is whispering to him. Lovette can only watch as her dear friend has her heart shattered.

‘You’re him aren’t you? It’s you G’raha isn’t it?’

The Exarch is silent for too long. ‘I am sorry. I am not’

[acaciapines]

👀👀 tell us more, tell us more 👀👀

I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW THINGS…. (reply via @visdiefje)

THIS IS SO SWEET OF YOU BOTH BUT I NEED MORE DIRECTION DFKJGDFGDF i do not know what to yell about unprompted. what have i not talked about yet. have i talked about how witches and palistrom trees are symbiotic entities. im very proud of that particular lore :3 but also a lot of it is stuff unpacked across the series so maybe i shouldnt spill everything djgkdfg

but what i CAN say is that. palistrom trees are 100% sapient they simply exist on a time scale we mere mortals cannot comprehend. and they love their witches so so much you guys. they love those funky little guys SO MUCH.