#wip: five card draw

[inscrutable-shadow]

Mediwhump May Day 3 - Seizure

@mediwhumpmay

This is canon-compatible with Five Card Draw and therefore does not have any AU markers. The 'Suit Booster' drug is more explained in unposted sections of that manuscript but basically, it's a performance enhancer that the Suits can take when they've pushed their bodies as far as they can and still need more, it removes the pain and fatigue temporarily and kickstarts their regeneration factor.. Jack helps the Doc with testing because he forgives easily and the promise of food is enough to get him to at least consider pretty much anything.

“So, Doc, what are we testing today?” Jack’s feet barely brushed the floor as he kicked them gently. They should really get the Doc some new equipment in here; a guy’s feet were definitely not supposed to reach the floor when he was sitting on an exam table, and he wasn’t even the tallest person in the Deck.

The Doctor was in a good mood, as was typical on a testing day, their smile real and their glasses on, which meant they were actually trying to be able to see him. “This is another drug trial. The formulation is not overly different from the previous test, so I will mainly be looking at the efficacy of the-“

Jack yawned loudly. “I’ll be honest with you, Doc, I just got off of a triple, so if we could skip the long-winded explanations, I’d really appreciate it.” He leaned back heavily on the reclined table, half-wishing he could go to sleep right there. Why did they have to call for him now, of all times?

The Doctor, of course, had the answer to that question. “That is actually why I asked you here today. My hope is that this new iteration of the ‘Suit Booster’ drug, as you insist upon calling it, will activate more quickly, remain effective longer, and have less of a rebound effect. Your fatigue is vital to the experiment.”

Sure. Whatever. Jack couldn’t bring himself to sweat the details. The sooner he did what the Doc wanted, the sooner he could be in his bathtub and then his bed. “Cool. So I take it like a normal booster?”

“Yes!” They handed him a palm-sized capsule of dark purple gel. “Just rate the change in your fatigue level and the monitors will do the rest.”

“Aren’t these usually blue?” he asked before sucking down the liquid. The texture was like drinking yogurt, not unpleasant, but also not grape-flavoured like his brain was telling him it should be.

The Doctor shrugged. “Would you prefer another colour? The blue dye was added at the Queen of Diamonds’ request when I was developing the original formula. She thought the four of you would prefer it to dark yellow.”

Well, she’d been right. Jack couldn’t think of many things worse than sucking down a tube of viscous piss-coloured fluid when he was already at his limit. He’d take any colour but that. And any taste in his mouth other than the suddenly overpowering grape flavouring. “Mother’s veil, Doc, that grape stuff comes on strong. It’s giving me a headache.” the lights were too bright suddenly, and he shielded his eyes with his hand.

The Doctor’s brow furrowed, and they set a hand on his shoulder in concern. “Jack... I haven’t added grape flavouring to the formula. I have not added any flavouring. Are you sure you’re- where in the blazes are you going?”

Jack’s head had snapped up and he was already halfway to the door before the Doctor’s hold on his arm stopped him. “Something’s here. Something’s coming.” His instincts had been honed by fifty years of being the Jack of Clubs, and he never doubted them anymore. The feeling of unease usually wouldn’t be this strong or come on this quickly. He felt close to a panic attack and nothing had happened to cause one of those. He realised that his breathing had become erratic, was vaguely aware of the Doctor calling his name, and then a sensation like falling off of a cliff before darkness.

When he became aware again, the first thing he noticed was how badly his head hurt. If this was what a migraine felt like, he had much more sympathy for Queen now. It was the sort of headache that made him feel like removing his jaw might help more than it would hurt. The next thing he noticed was that he’d been put into the recovery position. That was nice of whoever had done that. Was he on the floor? He guessed he must be. It wasn’t as dusty as he would have expected. Did the Doc spend all of their time in here cleaning?

Oh! The Doc! they must be worried sick if he’d passed out. He forced his eyes open a bit further. There they were, sitting on the floor next to him, uncharacteristically attentive. “Wha’ ‘appened…” His voice sounded strange…

They sighed in relief. “Welcome back. How much do you remember?”

Jack swallowed thickly. His mouth was so dry. How long had he been out? “Not much. We were... testing something, right?”

“Mhm. You had a temporal focal followed by a generalised tonic-clonic seizure, and, rather impressive one too, I might add. Not one of the anticipated side effects. I apologise, I rarely make such a severe medical error…” Their expression was neutral, but he could tell that they were furious with themselves.

“Not your fault, Doc. My head hurts…”

“I will be the judge of that. And yes, that is a standard after effect. You must be exhausted. I would like to keep you overnight for observation, if you feel up to getting up off of the floor.”

Jack did not, in fact, feel up to that. He’d much rather go to sleep right here. The last thing he heard was the Doctor’s “Hell’s teeth...” of affectionate consternation. Taglist: @youareshauni @arieadil @i-eat-worlds

[uniquevocashark]

one more wip <3

[outeremissary]

When Art Fight finishes I will have so many projects I want to get back to so it will be interesting to see what random fixation takes me or if I just become comatose for a week. Free time roulette

[capinejghafa]

kanej author recs | SixOfProse

Notable/Favorite works:

Hobbies

Inej was happy. Content and at peace in a way she’d never be again, if he pinned her to his side. “Kaz? You want to come to dinner?” Wylan asked cautiously. “Come play cards,” Jesper added. His arm was around Wylan’s waist, easy and possessive, and Kaz wasn’t sure he could stand to be around them tonight.

Rating: M / Quirks: Established Kanej, Post-canon, Dark Humor (if you squint), Established Wesper, Kaz working through his trauma (if you squint), One Shot

Late Night Visits

Inej asks after Wylan and Jesper’s daughter at the beginning of every visit, and smiles at the appropriate moments when Wylan mentions that she’s started school, and Jesper marvels that they were able to get her into the best day school in Ketterdam, despite the fact that none of the Van Ecks were alumni. The place accepts five students per year. Little Nina had been third on the waitlist. A recent portrait is produced from a desk in Marya’s sitting room. Two or three charming anecdotes are related. Eventually, drawings and childish letters are handed around, and everyone—even Kaz—makes the appropriate comments about the obvious superiority of Nina Fahey.

Rating: G / Quirks: Established Kanej, Post-canon, Angst, Mystery Child(!), One Shot... also, i know i rec'd this but it also insp this fic (x). read both!

Ten Years Later (WIP)

Jesper calls the Crows together, ten years on.

Rating: M / Quirks: Split Crows, Mind the Tags!, Multi-chapters, tbh I'm not sure where this fic is going but I had a great time reading it... read at your discretion since it's a WIP :)

[stabbyfoxandrew]

whichever wip has the least amount of asks please! 🫶 I hope all ur wips agree with u this week 🫡

WIP Wednesday (4/24) | Mafia Front Restaurant AU (Part 147)

During the third round, Neil finally draws a joker. The first he’s seen since the game began. It’s a welcome and much-needed addition to his side of the table, so he drops it beside his set of jacks and discards.

“Explain.” Andrew demands before the card hits the tabletop.

“Oh. Jokers are sort of like an add-on.” Neil says, casually looking over his hand at him. “They can only be played when you’ve got something else on the table. Fifty points.”

“Alright, now you’re making shit up.” Andrew accuses. 

“I’m not. That’s how you play.”

“You didn’t mention it earlier.”

“It hadn’t come up yet.”

“Ah,” Andrew nods. “Omission. My favorite way to lie.” 

Neil smiles. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“What if you had both jokers?” Andrew asks, squinting at Neil.

“You can’t add fifty plus fifty? How did you get through college?”

Andrew blows. “I mean, can I put a wild two between them and call it a joker?” 

“Nope. Not how it works.” Neil says, taking great pleasure in frustrating this man. The goalie pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales.

“This is a stupid game, but I am going to win.” He announces, then he taps his chin with his finger and points at Neil. “How do I do that?”

“Be the first to hit five hundred points.”

“We will be here all night.”

“Wasn’t that the plan?”

[emotional-support-demon-crowley]

WIP Wednesday!

I've been working diligently on this yet unnamed Good Omens fanfic story. I'm keeping most of the details under wraps for the time being. I will say that it's an exes to lovers story and draws heavy inspiration from a classic comedy.

“You can’t boycott love and dating forever, you know.” Anathema was sorting embossed place cards and trying to pretend like she wasn’t brooding. “Says you,” Crowley grumbled from across the room. He was draped upside down across a fainting couch, slowly losing a battle with gravity. “Hold on!” Indignation caused him to wriggle sideways so he could see her better. “I date.” “Flirting with someone over the course of several hours and then ghosting them when they show serious interest does not count.” She banged a pile of cards against the table harder than necessary as she straightened them and set them to the side. “What about… Cade? Cameron? What’s his name?” He snapped his fingers a few times hoping the name might materialize so he could prove his point. “Her name was Carmine, and it was only three and a half dates, total.” “There you are, proper dating.” Crowley gave her a winning smile and hooked one of his legs more securely over the backrest to stall his continued descent towards the floor. “Tony, that was five years ago.” Anathema’s tone mellowed from annoyance to concern. It never went well for him when she sounded like that. Mostly because he didn’t like having her worry over him, but it also somehow made him more susceptible to being roped into her shenanigans. “It’s fine, Ana,” he insisted, waving one hand in the air like it might dispel her unease. She abandoned the cards and turned her full attention to him. “I worry about you.” “Well, knock it off.” Crowley let actual frustration color his tone as he finally gave up on lounging and swung his legs to the floor to right himself. He’d been in love once, before he and Anathema met. He wasn’t sure he would ever be ready to put himself through that much pain again.

This is a little taste of Crowley's introduction.

There is a valid reason that Anathema calls him Tony. Don't worry, nearly everyone else, including Aziraphale, call him Crowley.

[noneedtoamputate]

First Line Analysis

Rules: post the first lines of up to 10 of your last fics/chapters posted on AO3 or your WIPs and try to draw some conclusions.

Thank you to @gorgeousundertow for tagging me! I wanted to do something fun for Every Beautiful Thing's first birthday, but I am in the middle of two fics and taking over a role for a colleague on leave at work, so I am at my max right now. But sharing the first line from each of EBT's first ten chapters is something I can handle, and it should be interesting to see if and how my writing has changed over the last year.

Chapter One - She heard the sounds of kids playing as she walked down the street and smiled.

Chapter Two - She baked an angel food cake for Dad’s birthday, and sliced strawberries and whipped cream for the topping.

Chapter Three - There was only one word for the way she had been acting the past week, and the word was ridiculous.

Chapter Four - Ellen called the shop one afternoon and asked if Chuck would like to go out Thursday night.

Chapter Five - The Monday after Chuck and Ellen went to breakfast, Joe came into the store for his weekly smokes allotment.

Chapter Six - When Chuck told Ellen he was taking the day off work for routine appointments at the VA clinic, she suggested they meet for a picnic lunch afterwards.

Chapter Seven - Ellen backed out of the parking space in front of Joe and Miriam’s house, where the two couples had spent the evening playing cards.

Chapter Eight - Chuck stood at the Thompsons’ front door, a box of cigars under his left arm and a bouquet of flowers in his right hand.

Chapter Nine - Ellen tried to wait patiently outside the diner for Chuck but failed miserably, tapping her foot on the sidewalk and flicking the ash from her cigarette, giving her something to do with her hand.

Chapter Ten - Ellen looked at the clock and then over to Billy McNamara, the student she tutored on Wednesday afternoons, who was thoroughly engrossed in a Hardy Boys novel.

Conclusions

I tell readers more than I show. Should probably work on descriptions a bit more.

Characters are important to me. Every sentence mentions either Ellen or Chuck.

More of the chapters start with Ellen's POV than with Chuck's. This is not a conscious decision. I start each chapter with the character that makes the most sense to me.

Tagging @almost-a-class-act and whoever else wants to give this a try!

[non-plutonian-druid]

✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

thanks for the tag @littlerit!!!

Words and fics

I posted a tua oneshot Grace Through The Doorway In Time

and thats it!

ok rit i know you did say i should adjust it for art, i just thought it would be funny to do that first.

✨ Art Making Review 2023 ✨

Posted Art oh god

I kicked off the year by drawing Five and Lila in silly outfit submissions [1] [2] [3]

Delores as a mermaid in a crumbling ruin

Lemony Snicket au - Ben tied up in a closet

Redraw of a S3 promo poster

Five and Lila in that bathtub phone call x files scene

Tarot series - Death

Paranatural au - [1] [2] [3] [4]

Celebratory aroace Barbie

Comic fanart for alephnaught's fic Theory of Quantum Superposition

Five definitely just murdered someone with a chainsaw

Tarot Series bonus - Ten of Swords

Tarot Series - Judgement

Five and Lila run into each other for 0.2 seconds at the Commission water cooler

Baby Azula Mai and Ty Lee as centaurs

TUA centaur au - [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Girl being abducted by a kelpie WIP

The Ben dying drawing that tumblr ate for some reason

Lemony Snicket au - the comic

OTGW au - Fei and Sloane

trick or treat WIPS: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [12] [13]

Voltron Gravity Falls au comic

OTGW au - Diego and Ben hide from Five

Paranatural au round 2 - [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Top Art By Notes

(probably the closest parallel to kudos is likes, but trying to figure that out feels hard)

s3 promo poster redraw - 840 notes

Death tarot card - 319 notes

bathtub x files scene - 273 notes

the first paranatural au post - 242 notes

Theory of Quantum Superposition fanart comic - 239 notes

Fandom Events 2023

@tua-masked-author !!!

Upcoming 2024

i joined the murderbot diaries new years gift exchange! so ill be making a gift for that!

i have an installment of the lemony snicket au that i think i finished like two years ago and never posted. i should proooobably post it

also, i did just finish a different installment of the lemony snicket au that yall can look forward to!

im either done or almost done with another short paranatural au comic

i will try to finish the tarot series. or failing that. ill try to at least make additions to it

im working on a post with regular canon five (doing this made me realize its been a MINUTE since i posted art of regular canon five. ive abandoned my boy) playing with mr pennycrumb

i have Another finished thing but im waiting for something else to be posted first. i dont actually have to, i just want to outsource having to write context

Rules and tags below the cut!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass, just keep on scrolling.

i dont know how many people I'm supposed to tag but! @destinyandcoins @darbydoo22 @ford-ye-fiji @grammarpedant @blessphemy trying to mind palace all the people i know on discord, who write fic, what their ao3 username is to triple check they posted this year, and what their tumblr url is... (and also if any of you dont like these kinds of games, sorry, thats my bad!!)

lmao also i fucked up all the formatting for you guys, this is what these are supposed to look like

[mistresslrigtar]

WIP Wednesday - Chapter Eight

Once they’re finished, Syrup instructs them to cut their decks once more and draw the three cards on top. Placing her hands atop their cards, Syrup fans them with her fingers. She raises her opaque eyes to Link. “We’ll start with you, pirate.”

“Do your worst, Syrup.” Link settles back on the stool. “I’m the maker of my own destiny.”

“Hmph!” Syrup flips the first card, revealing a shadowy figure attempting to juggle cups. “Seven of cups!” She taps the card with one long, dirty fingernail. “Not surprised. Time to get your head out of the clouds, boy, and face reality.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Link glares at the card. He’s not a daydreamer. He’s certainly never been a lay-a-bout. If he wasn’t fetching for Linebeck, he was the spokesperson for the rest of the crew. The only one with enough courage to stand up to the bastard. That’s what had gotten him in the captain’s seat in the first place. “I’ll have you know. Everything I do is for my crew!”

Syrup squints one eye at Link. She taps the card again. “Simmer down! This card tells you how you view yourself. If you want to get angry with anyone, go look in the mirror. Now, how about you, dearie?”

Link scowls as Syrup turns away to reveal Zelda’s first card. He doesn’t miss the smirk on Zelda’s face, clearly put there at his expense. Link bites back a remark when Syrup reveals an upside-down card containing a woman shrouded in a shawl in the dead of winter, with five golden coins floating above her head.

“Tsk!” Syrup clicks her tongue, black eyes boring into Zelda’s bright green ones, which now have a crease between her brows as she studies the card. “Reversed Five of Pentacles. Means charity smiles upon you.”

“Ha!” Zelda laughs and rolls her eyes toward Link. “Charity has little to do with my current situation!”

“Eh, I’d be hesitant to look a gift horse in the mouth, mistress.” Syrup counsels Zelda, choosing to flip the next card before her. Lovers embracing. Goddesses, could Link’s luck be any better?

“I told you he’s not my lover!” Zelda points accusingly at Syrup, as if the witch has magicked the card into being. Syrup smiles in return, revealing a mouth of teeth, grey with neglect.

“Don’t knock it until you try it, Princess.” Link grins lazily at Zelda, who sputters incoherently and scoots as far away from him as possible. Her chest flushes prettily, and he has to avert his eyes when she crosses her arms, unwittingly emphasizing the enticing swell of her decolletage. He may not be a fortune teller, but Link foresaw a cold bath at the bathhouse in his immediate future.

[ttrpgsolostoriesforyou]

Session 1

I played a brief session of Delve the other night. I like to use it to generate writing prompts. If you're not familiar with the game, it's a TTRPG dungeon map game. You start with a team of five dwarves and explore a dungeon by drawing from a deck of cards. As you explore, you gather resources, discover rooms, run into monsters and other disasters. The goal is to survive. So you use the resources to build rooms like barracks to buy soldiers or cages to hold hounds or tame monsters. It can change every time you play.

To keep it fresh, I like to think of a leader in the group running the expedition, assign traits and try to think of how they'd approach the dungeon. If they're not thoughtful, the dungeon can be brutal. As is the case below. Part of it was also literally in the cards I drew.

Here's how a session went and how I use it like an outline for a WIP.

I rolled on some inspiration tables in the book Roll For Novel (I think?) to generate a setting and a way the dungeon is discovered.

The prompts were: Avatar of Fertility; lake of ice; worshippers of the avatar.

I turned those into:

"A cleric has a dream of a lost idol calling out to them from amidst a world of ice and snow. They seek meaning from a high priest who encourages them to man an expedition and search for it. They explore a nearby glacier and upon accident, discover plants growing deeper in a crevice." This is where I start drawing cards. The cards had them discover a vast forest shielded by or from layers of ice with it's own unique flora and fauna. They spend several days there and discover an abandoned library with large stone doors.

Inside, they discover a strange glowing glyph that's warm to the touch and a storeroom with a cache of unspoiled supplies.

Bolstered by good luck, they discover a cave entrance and through a series of tunnels discover a large dormant lava chute.

Exploring further, they discover a dormant lich, which awakens and kills them all.

Now with that all in mind, I can break it all down into scenes.

Scene 1: Dream sequence

Scene 2: Conversation with the high priest.

Scene 3: Putting a team together with some character disagreements or whatever.

Scene 4: Journey to the glacier. It was dangerous. Oh yeah? How dangerous was it? It was so dangerous I'm not entirely sure sending someone back for help means they survive or at the very least, you're stressed out if someone goes back alone.

Scene 5: Accidental discovery of the dungeon. Not to be tropey, but probably due to a disagreement or dwarves suck at walking on glaciers or there is a small disaster.

Scene 6: Forest exploration and foreshadowing that all isn't right in here.

Scene 7: Discovering the library. Did you get the memo about how things are weird here?

Scene 8: Tunnels. I'm asking you again, how dangerous is this about to get?

Scene 9: Lich and everybody dies?

Now with this rough outline, I get a sense of the whole thing. Tropes come to mind and that's okay. Nine scenes isn't that much and I can already think of maybe two or three more scenes being needed. It's broken down into something kind of tangible now, so I can go on and play in the scenes as I think about them.

[inscrutable-shadow]

Whumptober 2023 Day 5 - What's the Worst That Could Happen?

@whumptober-archive

No. 5: “You better pray I don’t get up this time around.”

Debris | Pinned Down | “It’s broken.”

also available on ao3!

Jack yanked hard on the Doctor’s lab coat. “Get down, Doc, unless you want to catch one of those bullets in your teeth!”

The Doctor crashed to all fours, panting hard. “Apologies, I am not moving as quickly as in my younger days. I suppose there is no longer any chance of reaching our destination on time?”

“Sure as fuck not. Is the First Quarter always like this? Seems like every other week I’m getting myself caught in a shootout.” He pulled another magazine out of his belt and slid it into his pistol in a practiced motion. The suppressive fire didn’t seem to deter their pursuers any.

“I cannot say it is uncommon, at least in this area. I had hoped my return to the land of my birth would be less… hectic. If only the gangs here had a Queen of Diamonds to unify them.”

Jack scoffed. “Yeah, I think we’re good with just the one.” He poked his head around the concrete barrier and immediately pulled it back. “Mother’s veil, these guys don’t give up…”

“I don’t imagine so. Astra Group would likely send any number of men to ensure my premature demise,” the Doctor said mildly, adjusting their glasses. For someone who had a hit squad out for them, they sure seemed much more concerned with how much exercise they’d been getting than the actual bullets. Standard Doc.

Jack checked his surroundings. Narrow access tunnel, and the pod car was around a corner about thirty meters away. He’d give the Doc a moment to catch their breath and then they’d run for it. They were slower than he was and he’d have to take a few calculated risks if he wanted to keep them intact. Well, if there was one thing the procedure had done, it was make him better at math.

“Okay, Doc, we’re gonna make a break for the pod car. Don’t look back, just keep running.”

The Doctor, still sweating and panting, looked up at him in dismay. “That distance? I cannot keep up with you, Jack, I will be left behind—”

“No, you won’t. I’ll keep pace with you. Just trust me, okay? Keep moving and you won’t get hit.”

“I find that incredibly unlikely—”

“And go!” He hauled them up by the lab coat and pushed them out of the cover of the barrier, but not too far, giving them a chance to right themselves. The Doctor let loose with a colourful stream of curses, but started running anyway, which was the point.

Jack allowed himself a bit of a laugh. The “hitmen” couldn’t aim for shit compared to a Suit’s evasion ability, even protecting another person. He was, for the most part, able to keep his important parts out of the path of the bullets, and he only had to yank the Doctor to the side twice. He clicked the key fob to open the pod car’s hatch as soon as it came into view.

The Doctor was flagging by this point, their pace steadily decreasing despite their best efforts. Jack was going to have to do something about it. “Forgive me for this, Doc, yeah?”

“Eh? Ack!” They flew the last ten feet through the hatch opening, landing with their face on the far seat. Jack dived in after them and scrambled to pull the hatch closed. Glasses hanging askance from their face next to a slowly oozing bullet graze, they rounded on him, furious. “You could have killed me, Jack! I am not a sack of potatoes to be hauled around as—!” They stopped short. “I say, is that blood?”

“Well, yeah. Got hit a couple of times. ‘M fine, just give me a second and I can drive.” It really wasn’t that big of a deal. He needed to get the car in gear so they could get the hell out of here. The electric engine clicked worryingly the first couple of times he began the startup sequence, but eventually it began to hum.

“At least have a booster, Jack, no? You know where we are going, I do not.” Well. At least they had their priorities straight.

general taglist: @athenswrites

fcd taglist: @youareshauni, @arieadil

doc taglist: @i-eat-worlds

[lickoutyourbrains]

For the Writer Ask Game (https://www.tumblr.com/lickoutyourbrains/725714213373345792/im-bored-and-anxious-so-i-slapped-together-a-list) how about 19, 20, and 29?

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

The dagger had been an anniversary gift from Janus, his lover and one of the five other people Remus lived with in this house of strange practices. The handle had been decoratively carved to resemble snake scales, and the blade itself had a small engraving of an apple right on the hilt’s base. A little joke between the two of them regarding the so-called, “Original Sin”.

20. What’s a favorite title for a fic you’ve written?

Oh jeez... I suppose it'll be House of Tarot Cards? I haven't really had a chance to create very clever fic titles.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Here's a cut piece from Roman's chapter of Vultures!

~

Roman was unicorn hunting.

He was picky, so sue him! He was an artist for goodness sake! He couldn’t settle for anything less than perfection.

As perfect as he can achieve with the self-imposed limitations that were set upon his creativity of course. It was a challenge after all, to create something recognisable from anything he could find on the grounds that his unicorn lay slumbering.

The only tools he brought we what he could comfortably carry on his person.

And his sword.

What was a knight without his sword after all?

Ugh…

Well Roman supposed that IF he were to listen to Virgil, then one would argue that he looked more like your media-typical ninja, given how he was dressed.

Which wasn’t... wrong...

An all-black getup with only his eyes visible so he could blend into the shadows of the night without drawing attention to himself or his identity could make one think of a ninja instead of a knight… and his sword was a katana…

Whatever!

Camouflage was important!

What else was important was making sure the unicorn was a unicorn before striking. Fauns and ponies were no good to him and it was often that Roman would leave a residence with a disappointed huff, those who slumbered inside blissfully unaware of how close they had brushed with death.

[bifuriouswaterbender]

WIP Wednesday Game

We're officially in August, so this week or next will probably be my last regular participation. I feel a little weird about it. I was also tagged this morning by @stobinesque so it's a double day!

As always, credit to @kedreeva

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request! Also, if you send me an ask, I'll look on your page to see if you'd like one back. This works best when we help each other!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Filenames

Chrissy Woke Up Ch 6 [1-5]

He's All That (I finally rewatched the movie, so I have ideas upon ideas!)

Stevie Harrington Ch 3 [1-2]

B1 Bad Pickup Lines

C1 Red String of Fate

Snippet: B1 Bad Pickup Lines

His drink was almost gone when he felt Eddie’s return. This time he leaned against the bar next to Steve, tilting his head and letting his hair fall in a way he knew drove Steve crazy.

“You must be a parking ticket,” Eddie said.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Steve leaned toward him. He couldn’t help it.

Eddie grinned. “You’ve got fine written all over you.”

The bartender snorted. Eddie glanced at him curiously, but Steve never looked away from Eddie. Normally he played pretend here, but Eddie had set him up so well with one Steve had been waiting to use.

“That must make you a library card,” he said, and Eddie’s face opened up in delight. “Because all I want to do is check you out.”

“You’re really drawing me in over here.” Eddie reached out to run his finger over the back of Steve’s hand. “You must be an artist or something.”

Steve hummed, thinking quickly. If they were trading back and forth, he definitely wanted to keep going. “That hand of yours looks heavy. Can I hold it for you?”

Eddie laughed as he slipped his fingers between Steve’s. “Oh, your skin’s burning up. Must be because you’re so hot.”

Steve ducked his head, letting his forehead rest of Eddie’s shoulder to hide his grin and give himself time to think. Did he have any guitar jokes ready? No, but there was one about strings that had made him laugh. How did it go?

“You must be a puppeteer,” Steve said as he sat back up. “You seem like you’d be really good at pulling my strings.”

Eddie chuckled as he leaned in to press a slow kiss to Steve’s lips. As he pulled away, he added, “Life without you would be like a broken pencil.”

“Pointless.” Steve had seen this one before. Maybe they were looking at the same lists.

Eddie pouted a little at having his punchline stolen, but another kiss quickly put a smile back on his face.

They both looked up as a set of glasses slid in front of them. The bartender winked. “On the house after that little display.”

[layalu]

Do you recall what tarot cards you said your DA OCs would be? I remember it was in a tag game not long ago (and also your tarot WIPs) I need to see them for .....reasons :)

i hadn't 100% settled on most of them, but the ones i have were knight of wands for June, three of swords for Liam, and queen of cups for Neira (in part chosen for what i wanted to draw for the cards lolol) :] the runner ups for the others were four of cups/eight of swords/five of pentacles for Kala, wheel of fortune/king of wands for Lilian, the world/six of wands/seven of cups for Ari, knight of wands/seven of wands for Noya, and five of cups/three of swords for Var'renan

and i actually haven't continued any of these in a while |'D so WIPs are still these

[stabbyfoxandrew]

not sure how this works but

mafia front restaurant au maybe?

WIP Wednesday (4/24) | Mafia Front Restaurant AU (Part 145)

During his next turn, Neil puts down a card all by its lonesome and Andrew stabs his finger at it. “What is that?”

“I’m playing my eight off yours.” Neil says, gesturing to Andrew’s half of the table.

“You didn’t mention that in the demonstration. Cheater, cheater.”

“It slipped my mind.” Neil says. Then he moves his cards around and puts down a couple of jacks with a two. “By the way, twos are wild. Count as anything.”

“You are very good at withholding useful information.” Andrew mutters. He’d just put that two down a second ago and Neil snatched it up like it was a brick of gold.

“The FBI thought the same, I’m sure.” Neil says. Then he bites the inside of his cheek.

“FBI? What ever could they want with this family-friendly restaurant?”

“That was before the restaurant actually. And it doesn’t matter.”

“Hm. How rude to mention something so interesting and drop it.” Andrew luckily draws a two and plays it between a jack and a king. Now there’s only one card left in his hand. “Uno?”

Neil laughs. “Not quite. Throw it down and the hand is over.”

“What then?”

“We count our points. Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it for you.”

“No, thanks. I don’t trust you.” Andrew says, making Neil laugh.

“Smart.”

“How do I count them?”

“It’s five points for everything between two and ten. Ten points for tens and royalty. Wild twos are what they’re played as. You take what’s left in your hand off of what’s on the table and that’s your score.” Neil explains in a flurry that almost has Andrew’s head spinning. But he twists it back into place and soaks it all in.

“What about aces?” Andrew asks, since Neil left them out of the lineup.

Neil huffs out a breath. “They’re fifteen points each.”

“Like pulling teeth.” Andrew tuts. But he counts up his points quickly, then Neil’s. “Oh, I’m winning. How about that?”

[readingbythestreetlights]

i was tagged by the wonderful @crimsonicarus to share a snippet of one of my WIPs!!

i couldn’t decide if i wanted to post a bit of my mcstrome one or my mick/esteban one, so here’s a snippet from each!! (my apologies, the first one is a little long.)

despite all the rain

Dylan really isn’t a big fan of taking faceoffs against McDavid, but they are, quite frankly, the easiest part about playing him.

Training for faceoffs is less about the speed of your body and more about reaction time. Dylan has good reflexes. So when the arena goes quiet for that split second between the time the ref blows the whistle and when he actually drops the puck, Dylan steadies his breathing. Track the puck, don’t look at your stick. If you don’t win it immediately, do what you can to wrestle it from the other guy–don’t let him pass it cleanly back.

Dylan takes a shaky breath, not looking at the yellow CCM stick in front of him, instead watching the referee’s hands, preparing. Then the puck drops and he wins the draw, sweeping an easy pass back to the defense.

Whip’s earlier acknowledgment of the energy was on point; it’s one of those games where all the lines are working hard, some of the guys who usually fly under the radar finding important moments to shine through. Alexeyev has a quality block, rewarded with pumped-up hollers and stick taps on the shin as he passes by the bench. The bigger guys are doing their thing, throwing their bodies around and getting some good, clean hits in there.

The Capitals aren’t in a playoff spot at the moment, but they could be. There’s still a month and a half of the regular season, enough time to play catchup to the current Wild Card teams, still only behind in the runnings by a handful of points. This road trip is important. Dylan imagines the announcers are probably saying something about how this little Pacific swing could quite possibly define the season for the Caps— to make the playoffs or to not make the playoffs?

With the game tied at one going into the second (a powerplay goal for Osh and a killer snipe from Nugent-Hopkins on an odd-man rush), the team knows they have to take it up to the next notch, understands that they have to capitalize on the puckluck and good vibes tonight or forever hold their peace.

McDavid gets the puck stripped from him early in the period. The Caps bench is full of cheers and shoulder bumps at that.

Dylan would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel the need to prove himself every time he plays Edmonton. When everyone’s eyes are drawn to number 97 anyway, it’s easy to pretend that there’s no extra reason Dylan’s gaze follows McDavid between shifts. It’s easy to pretend that there’s no reason Connor would or should look back at all.

Dylan still wishes he would.

It’s early in the third that the floodgates fully break open for the Caps, the score having been stuck at 3-2 Washington since the middle of the second. The fourth goal is Dylan and the fifth might as well have been credited to him, fishing the puck out in a tough battle against the boards and deking out the defensemen before giving a slick saucer to Sheary, the pair of them getting herded into a good old Tom Wilson hug after the goal.

Dylan and Connor’s eyes meet as Dylan skates toward the bench to high-five the boys. It’s brief eye contact, but God, it has meaning.

won’t we see you once again? (in foreign soil, in foreign land)

Mick doesn’t bother too much with getting to know new people. He prefers consistency, enjoys conversations threaded with inside jokes, old stories, no expectations.

Esteban had looked pretty in the Spanish sun, his eyes appearing amber and his grin as inviting as ever.

Mick had let himself enjoy it. He was single now—no guilt for appreciating the beauty of life.

Offering up Mallorca just made sense. Mick, for some reason, has never minded showing Esteban the places most dear and private to him. He likes it that way.

Thinks the lack of walls between the two of them is nice.

Thinks the lack of walls between them could one day amount to a lack of physical distance. Hopes, anyway.

Esteban wears that grin no matter who he’s with.

Still, Mick hopes the way the French driver bites his lips softly while in conversation with Mick is purely reserved for just that. Conversations between just them.