#immediately thought of this snippet I wrote yesterday

[anto-pops]

Seb + BDSM

Seb + BDSM

Seb + BDSM

He would enjoy something like that, wouldn't he 👀

[virtie333]

Oscar and skirts

Y'all know I love him in them! So much so I wrote Poe wearing them in one of my fics. I briefly thought about writing something for Oscar's birthday, but since the majority of my Tumblr followers don't read my stuff anyway, I didn't make the effort. However, I will share this snippet from Kinetic (my greatest hit and the story that literally kept me alive in 2022) detailing 'skirt smut'. Call this my Sinful Sunday contribution.

Rey put her hands on his chest, then slid them up to his bare shoulders, running them down his biceps. She could feel him tense up and he stood straight, dropping his arms to grab her elbows. “Rey,” he started. 

“Do you remember when you caught Willow and I laughing yesterday?” she asked, not letting him continue. She let her hands drift down to his abdomen. “Do you know why we were laughing?”

Still frowning, he shook his head. 

“She was telling me why she liked the native clothing,” Rey continued. Reaching for the edge of his skirt, she said softly, “Easy access.” She brought her hands underneath the kilt, easily finding his penis, which was already stiffening rather impressively. She remembered Poe telling her how quickly he became aroused around her. 

He closed his eyes and hissed. “Rey, we shouldn’t.” His grip on her elbows tightened, but he didn’t try and move her away. 

“Why shouldn’t we?” she asked, her voice breathy as she stroked him. “Willow will make sure they give us time.”

He shook his head, opening his eyes to look at her, his expression almost sad. 

Rey brought her face up to his, still stroking his erection; after last night, she knew exactly what he liked. “Who knows when we’ll get a chance to be alone again?” she whispered. “Please?” She kissed him, and he responded instantly. Gently, their lips and tongues danced, soft moans sounding first from one, then the other. Rey felt the now familiar surge of moisture as her body prepared to accept his. 

Poe tightened his grip on her elbows even more and turned her around so that she was up against the desk. She felt it dig against the small of her back and knew that it was too high for what she had in mind. Poe seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time. “Turn around,” he whispered against her lips. 

She smiled. “Commander, you are obsessed with my backside!” she teased as she did as he asked. 

“I am obsessed with all of your sides,” he responded, whispering into her hair as he pulled up her long skirt. She felt his fingers delve into her wet folds and he groaned, nosing her hair aside so he could kiss her neck. He moved his hips into her and she felt the tip of his cock as he teased her with it. “Such a good girl getting ready for me so fast,” he muttered, and Rey felt a chill slink up her spine at his praise; she would never get tired of hearing it. 

Slowly, inch by inch, he pushed himself into her. Rey moaned, reminded once more how large he was. But he felt so perfect, so right. Once his hips were flush up against her buttocks, he held still for a moment, his hands tight on her waist, his face still buried against her neck, his nose tickling the back of her ear. Then he began to move. 

Rey felt herself leaning over the desk as Poe plunged deep over and over again, his pace getting faster and faster. Her soft cries matched his thrusts, and she reached forward to grip the other side of the desk, bracing herself as their bodies slammed against each other. One of his hands left her hip and reached around her front, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves right above where he was sliding in and out of her. She tensed immediately, feeling her body start to fly. 

“I’m not gonna last, Sunshine,” he growled. “I’m taking you with me!” 

Rey nodded, her vision going white as his fingers strummed her to completion. For a moment she panicked; she hoped she didn’t break anything! But then the pleasure overrode her fear and she cried out. 

Poe was hammering into her, his own release imminent, and finally she felt him reach it. The hand that had been toying with her clit came up, and his arm encircled her waist, holding her tightly against him. Breathing hard, they stood still for a moment, but then Poe pulled out of her and gently turned her around, releasing her just enough for their skirts to fall back into place. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he pulled her close, and without question she wrapped her own arms around him, burying her face against his neck. She shuddered, suddenly feeling emotional, and tried to hold back the tears she could feel forming in her eyes; why did this feel like goodbye?

[guardian-of-time-if]

Final Years with MC snippet: Tzesar

I wrote another snippet to go with the one for Lukyan I released yesterday. This one is for Tzesar. It doesn't have MC in it nearly as much, but since he'd be actively hiding his thoughts from MC this felt better to show where his headspace would be at. I hope you enjoy!

Also forgot to mention this in the last one, but there shouldn't be anything in these snippets that is an actual spoiler, but they do take place decades after the plot, so there's hints of where the characters will end up if you'd rather not know.

Tzesar flips through another esoteric, ancient tome. This one is proving to be even less relevant than the last. Perhaps elvish tomes weren’t the way to go. They already had immortality, why would they seek magic to recreate it? But that would suggest that human writings would be the best source for magic to prolong life, and he was pretty familiar with all human mages worth reading.

He was running out of options. The elven texts were more and more worthless with each one. None of the texts by scholars he recognized offered practical solutions, only theoretical starting points. While he didn’t necessarily mind doing the experimentation himself, he’d prefer to have a more concrete starting point. He’d rather not cause a lethal accident because his textual sources were too vague. He’d even tried asking Sentinel for help the Dragon Seekers could offer, but had been flatly refused. Or at least, Tzesar assumed that the elf walking away without waiting to hear the full question was a no.

“Excuse me,” a voice calls, forcing Tzesar to look up from his tome.  

“Headmaster?” He asked, surprised to see one of his former teachers from his days at school.

“I hear you are looking for old tomes detailing ancient magics.”

“That is true,” Tzesar answers. He knows this man, spent years learning from him, but decades at court have taught him not to trust when people show up unannounced claiming to have solutions to your problems. “How did you hear that?”

“One of my students tried to steal these volumes from our library,” he replies, holding up a stack of books. “Our guard brought her to my office, and she told me the grand arcanist of Nytheris was offering more gold than her entire village makes in a year for ancient tomes of unknown criteria. That was odd, I thought, knowing that the grand arcanist was once one of my students, and has full rights to visit our library any time.”

“I actually thought to plan a trip soon,” Tzesar interjected, coming very close to a lie. He’d thought about going, but immediately decided against it because he would have to explain to MC why he was leaving. 

“Well, I did some asking around of my own to ascertain which tomes you would be looking for. Once I accumulated a list of titles, I found a common thread. So tell me, child, why would you waste so many resources hunting down a form of immortality?”

“Who says that’s what I’m after?” He asked, turning away from the professor. 

“I may not be Eldrin Carathroth, but I did catch you sneaking into off limits sections of the library in your free time, and using unsanctioned magic in your dormitory. Your lies are as easy to see through now as they were then, even if you do hide them under a courier’s smile.”

“Fine,” he admits. “I’m looking for ancient texts about immortality. I’m hardly the first human to look into the existence of such magics.”

“You are far too good a student of history to claim ignorance on why such magics are so dangerous.”

“Those men were idiots,” Tzesar answers bluntly. “I am a genius. I’ve studied their mistakes. I won’t repeat them.”

“Which brings us back to my original question. Why do you pursue this path? You are the grand arcanist for a much loved king. The greatest wizard of our age. Do you really need the glory of uncovering immortality as well?”

“It’s not about glory,” Tzesar insisted. “It’s about… me. I need it for personal reasons. I won’t publish my research. No one will be able to use it after me.”

“Then why don’t you ask your brother for help?”

“He won’t help with this. He wouldn’t understand.”

“I thought you were close.”

“We are, but we can’t talk about this. He doesn’t… he wouldn’t…” Tzesar lets out a groan as he words seem to fail him. What is it about being in the presence of a mentor that reduces one to a child even in old age. 

“Then why wouldn’t you ask me? Or any of the professors you were close to. I know you miss Eldrin, but surely he wasn’t the only one you can trust.”

“I do trust you, but you have elven blood you wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m only half elven. I still age, and I’ll still die, it just takes a couple decades longer. I’m even getting close to death myself. Are you afraid?”

“No!” He hated how alarmed he sounded. 

“It’s normal to fear death.”

“I don’t fear death. I just can’t be the only one…”

Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that. That was too honest. 

“Only one?”

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Your love,” the teacher says, suddenly, seeing through every wall Tzesar had tried to keep up. “She’s going to outlive you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I always knew your pride would be the end of you, but I never suspected it would be like this.”

“Pride?” Tzesar asked, not bothering to hide how insulted he was from his voice. “You think its about pride?”

“You can’t handle not being the best at something. If the woman you’re in love with can best death, why can you not?”

“Its not about beating death.”

“Then tell me what you would do if you found immortality.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’m going to leave these books here, not because I think they’ll help you, but because I hope that reading the perspective of men who have lost themselves to the pursuit of immortality will prevent you from doing the same.”

“I won’t lose myself,” He promises. 

The professor leaves, and is soon replaced by MC. She walks over to where he’s deep into one of his tomes. 

“Tzesar,” she calls softly, nudging his shoulder. “You’ve been down here forever.”

“I’ve been working on my research.”

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a week,” she says, peeking over his shoulder. He shut the book before she could see anything important. “Why are you hiding away down here?”

“I’m not hiding,” he insists. “I’m doing research.”

“You just shut that book so I can’t read your book.”

“It’s government secrets.”

“Are you serious? How long have we been together?”

“Why are you being so nosy?” He asks, hoping to distract her.

“I’m not being nosy. Why are you being so shady?”

“I’m a scholar, we primarily do our work in privacy.”

“Why do you need privacy from me?”

Because he has a strong feeling she wouldn’t approve, but he can’t say that, so instead he sighs. “I don’t need privacy from you. It’s just not ready for sharing yet.”

Her shoulders slump. “Do I need to worry?”

“No,” he promises. “I have everything under control. I promise I’ll explain everything once I can.”

When he had finally found a way to preserve his life, so they could stay together. He didn’t have many years ahead of him, but all he needed was one lucky break. If he had any say over the matter, he was going to find a way to be immortal with his MC, even if it killed him.

[steviewashere]

Okay, I'm still working on my Steve Harrington gets Vecna'd fic. Still on chapter one right now. But I'm sharing the interaction I just wrote between him and Robin.

SNIPPET:

————

“Did you even go on your date yesterday? That girl…What was her name…From the other day? Thought you scored a movie with her or something.”

He shakes his head. Eyes vigilant to the road. “Heidi. Her name is Heidi, first of all.”

“Okay, Heidi. Her name is Heidi. Did you go on a date with her? Or are you going to tell me how she isn’t the right person? Because you aren’t eager to. Which means one of many things: she’s going out of state for school, she’s more interested in your douchebag dad, she thought that you could get her a word in with Tommy the Horrid, or she almost bit your dick off while giving you a blow-ie and now you’re too afraid of a girl with a little bite to her bark.”

“Hey! The girl that almost bit my dick off had serious teeth to her, dude! I have every right to be afraid of somebody making a snack outta my dick,” he objects. “Besides, I wouldn’t know about Heidi because I didn’t even call her!”

Robin sucks in between her teeth. “Low blow, Steve-O.”

“I forgot!”

She groans. “That’s even worse, Steve,” she bemoans. “It’s like objectively terrible to forget to call the girl that you asked out. If anything, I should’a called her and taken her up on the movie.”

“Oh, come off it,” Steve shoots. “God forbid a guy forgets every once in a while.”

“God forbid a girl accidentally bites your dick,” Robin mumbles under her breath. She leans forward before Steve can refute and turns up the music on the radio. Her nose crinkles immediately. “Tears for Fears…Again? It’s the exact same tape as yesterday!”

————

[thunder-shadow]

ive got many!!! 1, 4, 5, 8, 17, 21, 27, 28, 37?!

Thank uuu <333333

Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

Oh boy, yeah I daydream a lot haha - usually I get an idea and write down the bare info for it (like the ship and maybe one or two scene ideas) and then I just let it marinate for a bit, usually listening to music or reading! Then ideas usually pop in from there XD I'm a daydreamer all the way

4. How do you choose which fics to write?

Usually it's just whichever one I feel needs attention at the moment? Or whatever my brain latches onto haha

Like yesterday I meant to edit the GHE chapter so it could be posted, but instead I wrote the Earthcury one-shot turned multi-chap (which I wanna finish b4 I post it)

It's very wishy-washy is what I'm saying LOL

5. How many wips do you have?  What fandoms/pairings are they for?

All of WIPs are for SolarBalls haha I can only write for one fandom at a time XD

Okay, so obviously I have the GHE fic, the Jupixturnus fic, the Vercury fic, and now the Earthcury fic (those are all multi-chaps); then I have my oneshots, of which I plan to write Vars, Vearth, another UraEarth, a fluffy Jupiturnus one, a Poly Rocky planets one, and I still have a Sol & Nemesis one with snippets, as well as the post-paranoia Luna fic that still needs its chapter two LOL (and then I have a titanearth smut + jupixturnus smut that i'm thinking abt but shhhhhh)

That doesn't even count the random ideas I've just jotted down in my notes app LOL

8. Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip.

Oh gee, lemme find one I feel like posting!! I don't have any spoilers to be honest, bc i haven't written since i posted the ghe one or i would've used that 😭 so just have a snippet from my latest wip

I actually posted this the other day but deleted it like immediately LOL but here! from my earthcury college AU

‘Okay,’ Earth thought, narrowing his eyes. ‘First midterm is in 7 days. One week. You’ve got this,’ and he pumped his fist, ignoring the weird looks a couple of people threw at him. ‘Just need to study. Actually study for once.’ Then he looked down at the multitude of papers spread out in front of him, his laptop propped open to a chemistry video from a Youtuber he’d found on line, and groaned, letting his face fall onto the table. Across from him, Mars let out a laugh, flipping another page in his book. “Earth, I don’t know what your definition of studying is, but putting your head on the table and giving up is not studying as far I’m aware.” Earth looked up at him through his lashes, sending him as much of an annoyed look as he could muster before groaning again. “Organic Chemistry is going to kill me! Why did I decide to become a biology major?” “I don’t know. Why did I decide to become an Astronomy major?” “Because you’re weirdly obsessed with aliens?” “Wha-” Mars spluttered, putting his book down and looking at Earth. “No!” “Because you weirdly like math?” “No, Earth, because I enjoy astronomy! I like learning about it!” Mars rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his water bottle after a second. “And I know you’re the same way about biology because we’ve been roommates since freshman year!” “Ughh,” Earth whined in response. “Just let me melt into a puddle and evaporate away so I don’t have to take these midterms.” “You could just study for them, you know.” “That was my plan! But that involves studying…” “Oh, wow,” Mars said, throwing him a stare that just dripped with disdain. “Studying involves studying, I really didn’t know that, Earth.” “Fine!” Earth stood up, shoving his stuff haphazardly into his backpack. “I’ll go to the library! And this time, I’m going to actually study!”

17. Do you have a writing routine?

Nope! I literally just sit down and start writing oop

21. Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

I prefer writing one-shots just bc it feels simpler, like a one-and-done LOL but multi-chaps can be fun too!!

27. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

Being able to write a lot 😓 and body language, I feel quite confident in body language LOL

Also my grammar and language use, despite my copious use of em-dashes, semicolons, and ellipses I otherwise really just innately understand most grammar bc of how much I read when I was younger ‼️

28. What area of writing do you want to improve in?

DIALOGUE 😭😭😭

37. What fic has been the hardest for you to write?

The GHE fic hands down, it just feels so complicated 😭😭 I'm slowly chugging a lot, we're nearing the last few chapters :D

[ladyniniane]

Writing diary 1

Today, I wrote the first 1k of Zoé's story! I decided to go for it and not wait further. Yes I could do more research, yes I could do this or that. But I'm trying to let it flow and not immediately think of how I could improve it.

I'm thinking about posting snippets here btw!

I wanted to write yesterday but I couldn't because I felt down over the past few days. I'm proud of the progress I'm making on launching my future business, but I can't stop the dark thoughts. I'm also feeling extra-sensitive to basically everything, especially due to the current events.

I would normally have felt guilty over "not being productive" but that's not the case anymore. I felt angry and frustrated, but not guilty. I'm writing for myself. I don't have any deadline to meet.

I will try to write more than 500 words for each session, but if I don't: that's fine. That's fine if I don't write everyday. That's also fine if I want to go wild and switch to another project.

[ragnarokhound]

🖊️& 🏅for the ask game? 💞

:D 💕I've been in a bit of a slump this month haha, so it was nice to reflect on something positive about my writing ^^;

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).:

I'm really proud of how the structure for my AOB fic has come together! Once I finally write the dang scenes, I think it's going to be pretty good even if it wasn't supposed to be something I thought this hard about lmao OTL i am consistently cursed with think too hard disease :')

I'm also really pleased with a scene that wrote just yesterday, I think it'll fit into the werewolf fic that i've been super blocked on and has injected some new life into my ideas for that fic - and I'm really happy to get literally any traction on that :'D

🖊️ post a snippet from a current WIP:

From the AOB fic that I sWEaR i'LL fiNiSH:

“Tim, you two have a movie night— a date night— that no one else is invited to.”

“Everyone else talks too much,” Tim starts to explain, before he realizes what he's saying. “But that’s beside the— it’s not a date night we just hang out after patrol sometimes. I don’t even like TV.”

Dick makes an incoherent sound, a distinctly alpha growl and a whine that puts Tim’s hackles up. He rubs his hand over his mouth, clearly thinking. His eyes snap back to Tim’s and he has to resist the urge to flinch.

Dick maintains eye contact with him as he starts stripping off his suit jacket. He aggressively shoves it at Tim, ignoring his protests and manhandling it around his shoulders when he doesn't immediately take the hint. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Tim hisses as Dick scents him, roughly scrubbing his wrist on Tim's cheeks, leaving a strong residue of playful-exasperated-I win. Dick has always been casual about scenting, but this is a little much, even for him.

"Don't believe me? Watch. When he comes back, he's gonna find any excuse to get you out of my clothes and into his."

This is some prime alpha bullshit that Tim did not sign up for tonight. He sputters, and can feel his cheeks getting red and blotchy. "Wh— Dick!"

"And he'll try to clean your face."

"That's dumb. You're dumb."

"I'll bet you my share of Alfred's baklava."

"Bet," Tim snarls, though he's suddenly apprehensive. Alfred's baklava is practically sacred.

But he can admit, the idea of testing Jason's reaction has his curiosity piqued.

Damn. Dick knows him too well.

[baileys-3]

Yesterday I finished chapter 16 and I'm really happy with how the story has progressed so far. Can you say that about your own story? I always try to stick to what the series dictates. Some things can be discussed. I also read a lot of nice scene summaries here. Those really help. And then I have my own thoughts.

Simple example of what I mean exactly: In 5x12 Lucy is clearly checking out Tim's upper body. I think that implies to some people that this is the first time she's seen him shirtless. But I don't believe that.

Why? On the one hand, there is the scene in which Lucy wires Tim. She also checks his upper body and has definitely seen him without a T-shirt, or rather with his T-shirt pulled up. And then I don't think they've been dating for weeks, he's changing jobs for her and she's never seen him shirtless. Nobody can tell me that they haven't made out by then. I think she generally likes checking him out. Who can blame her? And so in my story he definitely appears to be a shirtless Tim. Why this example comes to mind. Well, because that was simply a topic in the chapter I wrote yesterday :)

_____________

But enough chatting now. Now for the sneak peak. This time from Chapter 12:

In the meantime, Tim is called to a few locations as supervisor, but never to one where Lucy is. Their lunch times don't coincide this time, so they don't see each other at the food trucks either. But that doesn't stop Tim from exchanging several messages with Lucy during lunch with Aaron. Which earns him one or more sideways glances from Aaron. Not that Aaron knows who he's texting with, but he can see that he's not just checking his results and statistics app. Because he types too much for that. At least Aaron knows when to keep quiet and doesn't ask any more questions.

The afternoon is pretty uneventful. Lucy is called out on several small calls, but these consist more of assistance than actual police work. Although assistance is also an important part of police work. And it's also one of the parts that she always particularly enjoys. But the afternoon is simply quiet. She texts Tim when she gets back to the station.

Lucy: Go and have a shower and then drive home. Is there still a chance of meeting you somewhere?

His reply comes almost immediately.

Tim: Just got back to the station. I've got some paperwork to do. Write to me when you're done. We can meet in the car park by your car.

Half an hour later she arrives at the car park, freshly showered, and sees Tim, still in uniform, leaning against her car. He pulls her round the corner and behind a small ledge that she didn't even know existed until now. And then he pushes her against the wall and kisses her until she gets dizzy. Tim seems to have some kind of weakness for pushing her against walls. Which suits her. Because she clearly has a weakness for being pushed against walls by Tim. They don't have much time because, after all, they are in the LAPD underground car park and someone could always come along, even if they are a bit hidden. And so, the few minutes they have consist of making out and whispering snippets of conversation so that nobody hears them if someone does come. And Lucy gets a little adrenaline rush from this secret meeting and realizes for the first time what it means to date in secret. And somehow it turns her on that this relationship thing is a secret between the two of them. Something that only belongs to the two of them.

[byeler]

Heyy!

I just want to say that yesterday I finished reading your fic “I’ll find myself in the moonlight “ for the sixth time and I was still…..awed. (Actually I was giggling and screaming but that sounds slightly insane so)

That fic is so angsty yet somehow it’s my comfort fic because I just love their characteristics and characterization in it soooo bad! I know you said that it’s a completed fic but that you had some ideas for how it can go so may I beg that you give us a glimpse of what your thoughts were on how it might end for THEM (Byler ofc).

Also are you planning on writing another part/epilogue type of thing? If not can you please just tell me whether or not you planned them to be actually endgame or does will die? I keep thinking of all the ways that fic could do I’m like obsessed but I’d really like to know what your thoughts are 😭

Also I really hope you write another part someday I would immediately love it and eat it up I love it so so much 🧘🏻‍♀️

hi my love i want you to know how sweet this message is and i’m so so grateful you took the time to send it to me!! i’m so happy you enjoy it and are able to find comfort in it, it’s a fic i wrote during a fairly difficult time for me and it was an incredibly cathartic experience and i’m honestly thrilled you’re able to get something similar out of reading it. genuinely this means a lot to me, thank you so much

as for what’s next!! i’ll be very honest with you, i have written bits of a part two, but i also put it down a few weeks ago and haven’t come back to it in a bit. i haven’t abandoned it completely, but it’s not something i’m working on daily or even weekly at this point. it’s maybe a third done? so i don’t want you to get your hopes up that it’s close to publishing. that said, because i am still working on it, i don’t wanna say too much!! i have also posted a few snippets here and there, you can check my work in progress tag if you wanna see a little bit of what’s coming, and might sort of answer a few of your questions :-)

anyway love you and thank you for sending me this i cannot tell you how wonderful you made my day :’)

[roselightfairy]

Multiple Words Monday

Yes it's Tuesday, but I spent last night screaming about second-person pronouns in German AOTC, so I think I deserve a little leeway. But just to be fair, I'll put in a snippet that I wrote yesterday.

Thank you, @tathrin, for the tag!

She smiled out at the crowds who had gathered to watch her go, settling easily into her place at the center of spectacle after years and years in just such a position – and with the confidence earned through those very same years. “Thank you, people of Naboo!” she called out. “Please, keep this energy up for the upcoming vote. All eyes on Coruscant!” The cheer that followed may or may not have had anything to do with the substance of her words. Those who had come out here to see her already knew why they were here; the people who cared about the politics of the greater Republic would already be watching the vote, and those who had come for the spectacle would return home and immediately forget. It did feel, sometimes, like people never really changed. She shoved that thought away. That was a perspective she never wanted to fall victim to; cynicism was the most dangerous emotion for a politician. The others who had become her friends in the Senate were, like her, people who clung to optimism as best they could, no matter what came upon them. And she needed optimism for this. This vote would be a hard one indeed.

(Also, @carlandrea, the politician-celebrity in the Naboo public consciousness is for you!)

It is no longer Tuesday, and as per usual, most of my writer friends seem to have already done these before I can (or are just generally tapped out), but if you are seeing this and you are a writer and you want to be tagged, you are!

[kochanski]

Okay here since we're posting fic here's a snippet of an abandoned rimster mpreg/breeding kink/whatever wip But Not The Way You Think (rated E but I just. never wrote the actual sex part oops just the leadup)

"Look at you," Rimmer said, arms crossed, eyes narrow. "Lazing about again, are we? Reading our softcore superhero pornography?"

"So what?" Lister draped the comic book over his face, letting out a sigh harsh enough to flutter the pages. "There's nothing to do, Rimmer, absolutely nothing that needs done. No reason for you to come an' bother me, alright?"

"Sure there is. We need to take inventory of the last of our supplies, for one."

"Did that yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that."

"Oh. Well, the navicomp needs to be recalibrated-"

"Again? We did that five hours ago!"

"Well, if you just keep sitting there like a bump on a log, you'll get pudgier than you already are," Rimmer snapped. "You look like you're carrying another Jim and Bexley."

Again? This was maybe the eighth time Rimmer had mentioned it in half as many days. Something was wrong with him- or, well, something was wronger than normal, Lister supposed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you need more exercise and less vindaloo."

"No, no." He sat up, carefully folding the comic back underneath his pillow. "You keep bringing it up, right, me being pregnant."

"Wh- so? It was a dramatic thing to happen, Listy, I only helped deliver them."

"The skutters delivered them. You fainted immediately."

"Well, I helped raise them."

"Yeah, okay, you spoiled them. I had to do the actual parenting."

"Oh, poor you. Having to be an adult for a whole week!"

"That's not what this is about, though, is it? You can't have empty nest syndrome, Rimmer, you don't have a parental bone in your body."

"Sure I do." Rimmer actually looked a little hurt. "I took care of our little family, didn't I? At least, as well as a dead person could."

"You told them to stick their hands up the chicken soup machine and see what happened."

"How was I supposed to know they hadn't developed sarcasm yet?" Rimmer crossed his arms. "Anyway, any child of mine would be smart enough not to jam his fist into strange nozzles."

"Any child of yours? Is this what you're on about?" Lister frowned. "You want to be a father?"

"Of course not. It's no fun to be a father, is it? So cold and aloof all the time. If I'm going to deal with the little buggers, I might as well enjoy them."

"Mother, then?" It was a joke- Lister'd meant it as a joke, he had, honest, but Rimmer was eerily silent for a few moments before letting out a forced laugh. Christ, and his dick was starting to throb at the thought of it. Smegging Power Girl and her massive tits. Smegging Rimmer.

"That's ridiculous. I'm dead, and it isn't like Arlene's around to impregnate me, anyway."

"Who needs her?"

"What?"

"Well, you don't want to be the father, I will."

"No," Rimmer laughed. "That would be something, wouldn't it? Holding me down and breeding me like a smegging woman."

"Seriously."

"Seriously what?"

"Seriously, Rimmer, you're either begging for it or you're one of Freud's favorite patients."

"You barely know who Freud is."

"I know enough," lied Lister. "Anyways, I know you, and you're dropping hints like it's laundry day and I've run out of me decent socks."

"If by decent you mean non-crawling."

"So you admit it?"

"No!" He put his hands on his hips, then crossed them in front of his chest, then rubbed his face like it could scrub the red out of his cheeks. "No, Listy, I don't want you to… to…"

"To put a baby in you. Knock you up."

"That's enough."

"Put a bun in that oven."

"It's pointless, Lister, there is no oven. I'm the wrong sex, wrong person, and I'm dead as a doornail. And, lest I have to remind you again, I am not a homosexual." What they'd gotten up to last week disproved that, but Lister wasn't about to bring it up while he was on a roll. Rimmer hadn't stormed off yet, which meant he was desperate.

"Okay, Rimmer, you're not a homo," he quickly agreed. "So we'll just have straight sex."

"What?"

"Be my girlfriend for an hour or two."

"What?"

"You heard me." Lister dug the comic book back out and pretended to read it. Yeah, the only way to get Rimmer to agree to this stuff was to sweeten it up with a thick spoonful of denial. Pretend it was incredibly normal that he'd developed a sudden pregnancy fetish after years in deep space. How long had Rimmer been sitting on that one, actually? Since Deb? Was this a long-standing fantasy of his?

Smeg, Lister was having to pretend it was incredibly normal to be this wet at the thought of Rimmer liking it.

[reneesbooks]

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

Are there any places, objects, or even people in your stories inspired by or directly borrowed from your real life?

Share a snippet if you like 💜

yes it is saturendsday.

i feel like i have recurring themes/events that get pulled from my real life instead of people and places. like there's gonna be a dead dad somewhere. there's gonna be some memory fuckery. one of my roommates in college read an early draft of HDI and looked up at one point and said "romeo and juliet was a formative experience for you, wasn't it?" so that's something. lacuna i think has a lot of plot points and character details that are directly borrowed from my life, as it's a story about grief and grieving and i've got some life experience with that.

here is a snippet that i wrote this morning :)

*

Keelan opens his eyes.

“Keys!” Maura's face appears above him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Thank the gods, you're awake. How do you feel?”

He blinks, trying to orient himself. He's laying on a cot in the infirmary, undressed from the waist up. His mouth is dry, his toes are tingling as sensation returns to them, and he can feel stubble growing in on his jaw.

“What happened?” he says, immediately wincing as his dry throat scratches with the effort. Maura bites her lip.

“You don't...you don't remember?”

His head aches. “Remember what?”

She drops her gaze to her lap. “You...you were helping bring witches in for the trials. One of them attacked you.”

“I remember bringing witches in yesterday, but everything else is a blank.” He scratches his jaw. The stubble must have grown in fast.

Maura's gone a shade paler. “Yesterday?”

He slides his gaze to her slowly. “Yes. Why?”

She won't look at him. “That was over two weeks ago, Keys. You've been here, recovering, for fifteen days.” Her fingers curl into her palms in her lap. “I...made a mistake.”

There is a sick feeling in his gut that has nothing to do with the healing wounds that he sees across his chest and arms. He takes a moment to look at them, to process what they are. “I was burned,” he says as it finally dawns on him. “Badly.” As sensation returns, he can feel how extensive they were. His whole chest, across his shoulders and arms. They're mostly healed now, so the pain is mild but constant. “But I don't remember anything.”

Tears drip down Maura's cheeks. “You were in so much pain. I thought...I must have done something wrong. I didn't mean—”

“You took my memories.” There is a distant roar in his ears. He can't even feel the absence in his head, but he knows, deep in his chest, that they're gone. “You stole them.”

“I only wanted to take the memory of the pain,” she says, tears falling faster as she reaches for his hand. He pulls it away. “You...you were in agony, Keys. The witch who burned you...she nearly killed you. I couldn't...I couldn't let you live with that kind of pain.”

“You learned the exact spells that Levi used on us.” He stares at the wall on the other side of the infirmary. He can't look at her tears anymore; he isn't sure how much longer he can handle the pressure in his chest.

“I thought if I learned how he manipulated us, I could stop it from ever happening again.”

“How is this stopping it?” His voice raises, but he still can't look at her. He glares at the other side of the cot instead. “Fucking hell, Maura, how is this stopping it?”

She inhales sharply and he closes his eyes, letting his head fall back on the pillow. A moment passes silently, then another. “I will leave you to recover in peace,” Maura finally says. He feels a hesitant, fluttering touch on his hand before her footsteps pace away with a swish of skirts. He doesn't open his eyes until he hears the infirmary door open and then shut. He is alive and alone and missing fifteen whole days of his life.

He rolls over and tries to get some sleep.

lacuna taglist: @serenanymph @lyssa-ink @oh-no-another-idea @lena-rambles @ashen-crest @tragicbackstoryenjoyer @serpentarii @allianaavelinjackson @laurenisnot

[alicelillianshaw]

He would love to read anything Alice wrote.

'Ever since you got here — honestly, the first time I saw you — I was really upset with myself for not having looked you up. I really just wanted to read everything you’d ever written.'

An exhale escapes her. From the first time he'd seen her, huh? The first time he'd walked down those stairs and seen Alice there in his living room; waiting, curious, burning with it.

Alice unlocks her phone; opens up her Word app, scrolling through pages and pages and pages and pages. No real organization there. A bit of of it chronological, yeah, but sometimes Alice would have thoughts and revelations and feelings that fit with yesterday's sentence, compared to the one she'd written today.

Chaotic.

But Alice's brain and heart, as always, held the road map of her writing.

Fuck. What to read?

'But, please. Go easy on me.'

She watches as Jack's hand withdraws. Settles atop his own legs, fingers linked. The absence of his hand is notable, like there's a huge chunk that's been scraped from her side.

Asking for mercy?

'I don’t know if my heart can take it.'

Alice grins wildly. Glances down to her phone.

"Jack Kennedy immediately demonstrated a harsh bias towards the great state of New Mexico the very minute—"

Fuck. Okay, she can't even go any farther than that. It's all made up on the spot, but she couldn't resist. Alice chuckles to herself and shakes her head, smile flashing at Jack.

"Sorry. Okay— I'm gonna ... read something real for you, aloud, because there's other stuff on here that's ....."

"Not well-written. And kind of incomprehensible."

She also leaves out that some of the writing was well ...

A lot. Intimate. Hungry. Yearning. Written from when she was lying in bed, body temperature burning. Mind wandering to his mouth. Some of what she wrote were questions too— vulnerable questions about what Jack thought of her.

Alice inhales; this is nothing new to her. She reads aloud for her editor, all the time, and when her coworkers are all jammed together in a meeting room, reading snippets and voicing opinions. They're tough bastards. Many older than her, unafraid to be blunt. Professional writers unafraid to hurt feelings.

But this is infinitely more intimidating. She wants— fucking needs— Jack to like it.

It's also infinitely more appealing.

She inhales. Begins to read.

"The molecules of water are uniquely fluid because of their composition; there is a magnetic force coating the atoms of bonded hydrogen and oxygen. The attraction is what binds them together, makes them slippery, allows them to flow and contract and expand in a way other matter cannot."

"Sitting next to Jack, observing mist curling into the air, observing droplets smash against the rock, observing water lap at the shore, I too reflect on all the forces of magnetism. The kinetic, compelling composition of Jack. The look that passes over his eyes when he becomes serious. How quickly humor flashes in his gaze not seconds later. It isn't mercurial; rather it's energetic, and animated. I find that it's no wonder he's drawn to the ocean. I find it no wonder he's brought me to this waterfall. It makes me curious about what other bodies of water in this state he's connected to— surely all of them must be related to Jack, somehow, and his quicksilver way. Surely each estuary and marsh and river and lake must bear resemblance to him. I find myself desperate to know."

Alice pauses— exhales again, a half-nervous laugh. Rough draft. She can just blame it all on it being a rough draft, if it really is so bad.

"Anyway, that's. That's part of something."

Alice was laughing again. Maybe his request had been a little ridiculous, but — he laughed along, searching her eyes for any indicator of what she was thinking. Amusement, probably? Shock at Jack’s boldness? Or maybe Alice was laughing at the irony of it all. She was there to write about Jack. She was going to do that anyway, and here Jack was, asking for it.

"Nobody has ever said that to me."

Jack was glad to be the first. It felt like a privilege.

Jack’s expression softened when Alice admitted that she had written about him already. If Jack’s insides had been hot before, they were on fire now. His chest, specifically — burning wild and out of control.

She’d written a lot.

It charmed Jack. Made him feel special. He’d been written about before. Dozens and dozens of articles from reporters local to Connecticut. And then the really nosey and pushy ones from D.C. Some of them weren’t so kind. Some of them were bland. Some of them were just a grocery list of his accomplishments. No flair, no passion, nothing.

Jack had to consider what she was offering.

Could he handle whatever Alice had written about him? There was no worry about the writing being bad or critical. Jack was mainly worried about his heart. And his self control. Hadn’t he just promised himself that he wouldn’t kiss her then ight before? That he’d exercise patience because she mattered that much?

What if she said the right thing.

What if she said something and Jack couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward and pressing his mouth against hers?

There was a lot at stake. If Jack’s life wasn’t as complicated as it was in that moment, he’d have no qualms about initiating something more concrete with Alice. Something more definitive — something that boldly proclaimed his newfound affection for her. A kiss. A passionate kiss on that couch.

Jack exhaled. He had to risk it, no?

“I’d love to read anything that you write,” Jack admitted. “Ever since you got here — honestly, the first time I saw you — I was really upset with myself for not having looked you up. I really just wanted to read everything you’d ever written.”

He swallowed. It was the shameful truth.

“But, please. Go easy on me.”

Jack finally retracted his hand from the spot at her waist. Any physical contact felt like dangerous territory. He interlaced his fingers together at his lap — a makeshift shackle for the sole purpose of keeping his hands to himself.

“I don’t know if my heart can take it."

[rainyfox3]

The Bewitched Painting sounds interesting~ 0v0

Ooh! Well, That's one I rly wanna write since a long time! But somehow got stuck... (Long time = long snippet ^^) Kaito stole a painting and now it's hanging in his apartment... he's kinda fanatic tho...

He walked by the painting like he did every morning, saying his greetings, as if this would reveal the face behind the flowers. But the person stayed still, as always, hiding behind the bouquet. Kaito looked at the hands holding the bouquet, wondering who the model for the painting could have been, with these slender but strong fingers. Over the weeks he had come to the conclusion that it must have been a man about his age. He was probably an illustrator or somebody who wrote a lot, given the slight bulge on his right middle finger. Kaito could stare at the painting for hours, forgetting about what he wanted to do with his day. Not today though. There was something on the dresser underneath the painting, which to Kaito’s horror, looked like peeled off paint. Picking it up he noticed that the paint flake strangely resembled the petal of a wilting flower. It was blue. Confused, Kaito looked up and scanned the painting for any damages. Weirdly enough, it seemed to be alright. Frowning, he turned and was about to walk away when something struck him from the corner of his eye. There it was. Instead of a blue flower that looked like wolfsbane Kaito was sure to have seen in full bloom yesterday, there was now a crumpled mess of wilted petals and… an eye? An eye as mysteriously blue as the sky in the morning just before the sun rises Kaito thought, absorbed in the vibrant hue. Like in a trance, he reached out to touch the painting. The surface was dry, a bit warm, just like he imagined it would be. He let his fingertips glide over the bouquet, slowly approaching the spot where the eye was shimmering in-between the flowers. He paused for a second, wondering if it was okay to touch the eye… Even if it was just blue and white paint, it felt wrong somehow. Closing his eyes Kaito touched it anyway, and immediately pulled back his hand, as he touched something wet. He opened his eyes and glanced at his fingers. Paint. In horror he looked up, expecting to find the painting destroyed, but…

[rawratinyrawr]

So close to reaching my goal on Kindle Vella for the first time!

Only 9 reads away from my October goal of 100 reads between my two serials. Anyone wanna check out at least the first 3 episodes of one of them (for FREE) and help me reach my goal for the first time since I started in July? :)

Here is a snippet from the journal entry in Episode One- "Dear Diary" and I won't lie, I cried as I wrote it. This story (I'm writing) feels personal, and timely, on so many levels. -April Washington (writing as Octavia Ambrose and referencing the Kindle Vella Serial, Whispers: The United States of Christ)

"When I found this notebook yesterday, I thought about that diary for the first time in years. I can’t help but wonder what may have happened to it after my parents were killed. It was in a tote of my childhood possessions in their attic, and the militia group that killed them is known for scavenging after their raids now. They leave behind a couple of their lowest-ranked members and some of the stronger men from the camps. 

The armed militia guards treat the men like slaves, forcing them to sort and salvage whatever they can while they themselves smoke or play cards and watch. 

Did they find my diary? If they did, did they toss it immediately, or did the guards read it out loud as entertainment? All I can imagine is them laughing as they slap each other on the back, mocking the young “sinner” who wrote it. 

That thought brings tears to my eyes. Maybe I’m silly. It’s just a diary. With one little secret. But it was mine! My secret to keep. My right to keep it or share it. Without fear. 

When I wrote that diary my secret wasn’t illegal. 

I guess it’s not the diary, but the reminder. 

Once upon a time, I was free. To live and love without fear."

***

“I think having a beautiful, brilliant black family

in the White House for eight years,

absolutely drove a lot of people crazy.”

-Henry Louis Gates, Jr.

Professor, Harvard University

“In the End, we will remember not the 

words of our enemies,

but the silence of our friends.”

-Martin Luther King, Jr.

Alternate history/Alternate reality/Dystopian/LGBTQ+ fiction/ Cautionary tale/TW

Whispers: The United States of Christ

Dystopian / LGBTQ+ Fiction

The haunting story of the trials of a gay couple in 2028. Set in a dark and deeply divided America where love didn't win in 2015, leading to a devastating coup, and the end of democracy. 

Welcome to The United States of Christ!

A cautionary tale.

Meet the main character (the author of the journal entry in episode one: Dear Diary) in the first three episodes, who has thus far remained nameless. Some episodes will be in journal entry format, and some will be told in a format from the point of view of the main character and/or the main character's wife, Amora. Later on, there will be episodes with other characters' points of view.

[k-s-morgan]

Hii Karin, I was wondering if you are still going to write the Tomarry story that Harry travels in Tom's time, I know things are not easy for you so whatever your decision I respect and accept. I will immediately buy your book! My thoughts are always with you, be safe <3

Hello! Oh yes, absolutely, I'm still planning my second Tomarry story. This war actually gave me some ideas that will fit this fic and its darker mood well. Tom will be building his kingdom pretty much on screen, dirty tricks and the related horrors included, so I guess now it will be a bit more realistic. Harry will have a lot to say and do about it as well.

And thank you! I published my war-inspired stories yesterday. I wrote them mostly because I needed to pour the hurt, frustration, and negativity somewhere, but I also gave each an optional happy ending as a way to comfort myself (and the readers who need it). Now I'm very happy to focus on my fics again. WHGTB snippet should be up tomorrow. It's very difficult to pick one because considering the content of this chapter, almost everything is a spoiler :D