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Entry tags:
Monthly wordcount - April
TOTAL: 4 297
POSTED:
-Cherry WIne chapter 10 - madara/tobirama/izuna ABO (1 570 words)
IN PROGRESS:
-In This Economy - bleach suburban ot4 (2 224 words)
-SVSSS - cosplay fic (503 words)
so much editing for cherry wine but that bitch is done! now i just need to... oh fuck i need to come up with a whole ass transition chapter. what do people want to see? my ideas for what happens here are so vague.
so much editing for the cosplay fic and it feels like every time i fix one issue to what was supposed to be a short scene i add another 500 words which end up causing *another* issue... ugh.
Also posted: In This Economy chapter 8.
--
suburban ot4
--
Grimmjow pulls up the bottom of his own yukata skirts and straddles the wall behind Nelliel to be used as a backrest. The noise of the fireworks resonates in his chest, takes over the space reserved for heartbeats. He rests his chin on Nelliel's shoulder and closes his eyes halfway, listening and watching the reflected glows and shifting hues more than the sky itself. Today has been so much.
Too much. Not enough. It's all jumbled.
The girls are holding hands. Some really impressive sequence merited a support grab and synchronized gasp, and they haven't let go yet. Both their faces are upturned to the sky and grinning but Grimmjow can tell half of Nelliel's attention is elsewhere.
He can't tell for Orihime.
Ichigo's head is craned back to watch with placid interest, and the tendon of his neck is so damn fucking long.
"This is so romantic," Orihime declares right through a lull, eyes fixed on the sky.
Then she twitches -- might be the fireworks restarting -- sneaks them a swift flustered look --
--She's going to take it back--
"Hey guys, when did you fall in love?" Nelliel throws into the fray, bright and airy and tense like a bow against his body.
--
svsss cosplay fic
--
Having his brain physically rattled didn't feel any better than having his qi fucked up, he discovered very soon after that, watching a puddle of blood spread against the cold marble his cheekbone pressed into.
Goddamn, but Jin-xiong was lame as cultivators went. Where was his -- his battle prowess, his...
"Jin-qianbei!"
Sounds of pain, muffled. Maybe it was just his ears. Faraway yelling, angry. Something whistling as it flew at him. If only he could equip the Gu Gui manual into a handy slot and immediately cast their Eight Trigram Tortoise Shields...
Furious qi raged like a current around him, a wave crashing on the breaker of an even more unstable current -- so bright and sharp it scored against his damaged meridians too, a hundred needles of new-sparking-chaos.
Wu Xiaodan had eaten a cultivation pill.
She didn't know what to do with it.
"Run," he said, and she said, her with the wobbling, unusable swell of her power and him with his mediocre core and his scraped-raw meridians.
He had the fleeting thought that they were still two days too early for Bing-ge to burst in and save the day. She was a Wife; she'd probably live. He was nothing, nobody. The drab cuckoo bird in this bright and lively nest.
... Wu Xiaodan had never had a core in the book.
Worse came to worse, he would log out.
POSTED:
-Cherry WIne chapter 10 - madara/tobirama/izuna ABO (1 570 words)
IN PROGRESS:
-In This Economy - bleach suburban ot4 (2 224 words)
-SVSSS - cosplay fic (503 words)
so much editing for cherry wine but that bitch is done! now i just need to... oh fuck i need to come up with a whole ass transition chapter. what do people want to see? my ideas for what happens here are so vague.
so much editing for the cosplay fic and it feels like every time i fix one issue to what was supposed to be a short scene i add another 500 words which end up causing *another* issue... ugh.
Also posted: In This Economy chapter 8.
--
suburban ot4
--
Grimmjow pulls up the bottom of his own yukata skirts and straddles the wall behind Nelliel to be used as a backrest. The noise of the fireworks resonates in his chest, takes over the space reserved for heartbeats. He rests his chin on Nelliel's shoulder and closes his eyes halfway, listening and watching the reflected glows and shifting hues more than the sky itself. Today has been so much.
Too much. Not enough. It's all jumbled.
The girls are holding hands. Some really impressive sequence merited a support grab and synchronized gasp, and they haven't let go yet. Both their faces are upturned to the sky and grinning but Grimmjow can tell half of Nelliel's attention is elsewhere.
He can't tell for Orihime.
Ichigo's head is craned back to watch with placid interest, and the tendon of his neck is so damn fucking long.
"This is so romantic," Orihime declares right through a lull, eyes fixed on the sky.
Then she twitches -- might be the fireworks restarting -- sneaks them a swift flustered look --
--She's going to take it back--
"Hey guys, when did you fall in love?" Nelliel throws into the fray, bright and airy and tense like a bow against his body.
--
svsss cosplay fic
--
Having his brain physically rattled didn't feel any better than having his qi fucked up, he discovered very soon after that, watching a puddle of blood spread against the cold marble his cheekbone pressed into.
Goddamn, but Jin-xiong was lame as cultivators went. Where was his -- his battle prowess, his...
"Jin-qianbei!"
Sounds of pain, muffled. Maybe it was just his ears. Faraway yelling, angry. Something whistling as it flew at him. If only he could equip the Gu Gui manual into a handy slot and immediately cast their Eight Trigram Tortoise Shields...
Furious qi raged like a current around him, a wave crashing on the breaker of an even more unstable current -- so bright and sharp it scored against his damaged meridians too, a hundred needles of new-sparking-chaos.
Wu Xiaodan had eaten a cultivation pill.
She didn't know what to do with it.
"Run," he said, and she said, her with the wobbling, unusable swell of her power and him with his mediocre core and his scraped-raw meridians.
He had the fleeting thought that they were still two days too early for Bing-ge to burst in and save the day. She was a Wife; she'd probably live. He was nothing, nobody. The drab cuckoo bird in this bright and lively nest.
... Wu Xiaodan had never had a core in the book.
Worse came to worse, he would log out.