#wip extract

Sorry folks. When I've had spare time lately, I've been focused on writing original content rather than fanfic. More on that when I can talk about it.

But in the meantime, I'll do my best to get something going here. I feel bad that it's been so long. 🧡🧡

In fact, as penance, below is a tiny snippet from the last in the Lessons series that I need to finish.

Undercut as explicit content, minors DNI.

Nah, fam. So even though I'm supposed to focus on my Original Writing to finally finish this damn book, I did a quick sketch for a fic I might never post as a whole:

Thanks to @oliolioxenfreewrites here, @space-writes here, @talesofsorrowandofruin here, @rickie-the-storyteller here, @mysticstarlightduck here,

@winterandwords here, and @somethingclevermahogony here!

SSS Rules: post seven sentences on a Sunday!

Extract Rules: post an excerpt from your WIP!

Share Rules: share some writing!

Dialogue: share a bit of dialogue you like!

Yeah I'm combining a bunch of posts. Who cares?

This scene is 90% dialogue, so it fits. It's also iconic in my mind.

From The Secret Portal Part One (Robbie POV)

“However, some people have cereal dry, which means that the cereal is a fatless skeleton, but we add fat if we feel the need.” “Does that make the bowl the flesh?” “Of course it does.” “So we’re eating the insides right out of the skin?” Akash paused. “Yes.” “Terrifyingly morbid,” I said, taking a huge bite of my soggy bowl-innards.

Question proposed, for context: is cereal the skeleton of milk?

I'll tag @captain-kraken @winglesswriter @wolfsbaneandotherfunactivities @theelfauthor @vesanal

+ ANYONE ELSE

Y'all can just do one of the tags I provided above :)

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

The wonderful @eccaiia tagged me way back when, and fresh off the presses, here is a little breakfast party from Invisible Girl, written today! I have a quiet day, and it is so cozy -- I'm lying on the carpet writing, ah...

For any inquiring minds, this scene actually happens before any mentions of sandwiches. Antonio's warmup act, we'll call it ;)

She was saved by the arrival of their breakfast which indeed looked appetizing, vibrant fresh fruit sliced into chunks, fried eggs with their yolk a golden disc and peppered lightly with green herbs, bread toasted warmly and served with several dips and spreads. The soup was in two tureens, and Velia lifted the lid of one to find cloudy broth with cubed vegetables and some sort of sausage. “Heavens,” Antonio said, speaking her thoughts for her. “What a spread. Thank you, my good man.” The waiter bowed his head. “I’ll leave you to it. We’ll be stopping in Boulder in three quarters of an hour, sir.” “Thank you,” Paris echoed. Antonio passed them each a small bowl and plate. “Dig in. Except for that piece of bacon there, that one I will duel you for.” “Since you’re the one packing a pistol,” Paris said, with a small smile, “I won’t challenge you this time.” “You’re too kind,” Antonio said, picking up his claimed piece of bacon. He tapped Paris’s coffee cup with it. “Cheers.” Paris rolled his eyes. Antonio held out his bacon in Velia’s direction. Thrown off guard, Velia picked up a piece of toast and tapped with him. Then she had to peruse the different spreads. There appeared to be marmalade, two other berry jams, butter molded in the shape of a carrot, and the soup for dipping. She would simply have to dip in a bit of everything to try it out.

Gentle tags for @vsnotresponding @space-writes @sleepyowlwrites @writernopal @talesofsorrowandofruin and anyone else who'd like to share!

Putting my taglist below the cut :)

tagged by @chauceryfairytales, thank you! here’s a recent bit from Valloroth things, ft the grumpiest man in Mohaade, my beloved Vren 🔪🖤

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

“No job Zhira’s given you. Another private client?” The disdain in the words was audible. “Been taking a lot of those lately, Wraith. What is it, family business not exciting enough for you any more? I’m sure grandfather would send you back into the Empire if you asked.” Vren ground his teeth. Pure needling, the kind only born Zarahmin could get away with. This child would always have a place, never need to earn his keep, pay down a tally of life debt; he was of Zhira’s line, his position assured, so long as he didn’t do anything stupid. His rank would always be higher than Vren’s despite the fact he’d done nothing of worth, and never would. He wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in Voi’xindiiri. “Can I use the Waystation or not?” If he was refused, he’d simply go the long way down the Kalah River, take a boat over to Iaseri. Weeks of wasted time, but rather that than grovel. The divining power he could find in Voah’kasis would make up for it. “You can. Here.” From a pouch at his belt, the man pulled a small metal token, and tossed it to him. The spoked wheel of the Zarahmin was stamped on either side. “Take your trip. But Zhira will want to know why you’re taking it.” “He can want all he likes. My business is mine.” Khazen Zhira’s grandchild pushed off from the wall with a laugh. “You’re family, bhahan. All your business is ours.”

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

no-pressure tagging @rhikasa @jmhwritesstuff and @eccaiia

🍋 NSFW

Thank you for the tag, @druidx.

Passing the tag to @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @sarahlizziewrites, @raevenlywrites, @dogmomwrites, @vacantgodling.

So, I wrote the following lines yesterday for the next chapter (17) of Empty Names and in doing so realized that I'd just semi-accidentally hit on the core of Lacuna's internal character struggle and issues in a way I'd never quite defined before:

Doesn’t she deserve to be happy?