I have something less than a resolution. Or more, maybe, because resolutions can be things that we've already accepted we're probably not going to follow through on. A goal? A wish? A dream my heart makes? Maybe let's just say I'm starting this year pining for something, and the something is more fun. It’s messy and scary and busy and overwhelming out here, and we're surrounded by forces telling us that we’re robots made to work and kill time and that we don't deserve nice things like democracy and rest. I'd like to tell those forces to fuck off, and have some fun and rest and joy where I can in spite of them.
In that spirit, I have a game. Drop a prompt and a ao3-style tag in my asks and I’ll write you a micro fic for it. I get to pick who it’s about (and fair warning, it will likely be Snowbaz). I’ll try to tackle them quickly but no promises.
You can send as many as you like as long as you have patience, but send me at least one! I’d like to see if this jostles my mental writing block a bit. Give me something to write for you. Let’s have fun together in the new year.
ETA completed microfics:
10 Things I Hate About Snow (ft Prof Minos writing smut)
Simon & the Grimms (only one bed, meet the parents)
Nowhere I’d Rather Be (sickfic, second chances)
Love & Basketball (Simon has No game)
Groundhog’s Day (time loop, ugly Christmas sweaters, honeymoon)
To kick it off, I have a WIP snippet for @rimeswithpurple whose prompt is our entire CORB project, and also tags under the cut! This is rough--just dialogue--but I still like it :)
Penny: You can't tell me you don't want to get off the farm.
Baz: I love the farm.
Agatha: Baz, I love you, but if you ever want anything to change, you have to do it yourself.
Baz: You're one to talk.
Agatha: We know everyone in a 25 km radius. One or the other of us is probably related to them, even. A cute boy isn't going to emerge from the woodwork even if we do have magic!
bell chimes over the door
All three look up. Penny gasps; Agatha drops a cup.
Penny: Why'd you drop that?
Agatha: You startled me! Why'd you gasp?
Penny: It's that guy! That one I was telling you about, who's been asking questions everywhere.
Shep: Hello?
Simon: Maybe they're closed.
The guys glance their way and all three duck under the table.
"What do we do?" Agatha hisses.
Penny: Someone has to go talk to them!
Agatha: I don't, because one, I don't work here. Two, you can't make me, and three, I don't talk to boys anymore.
May Agatha's spirit bless you and keep you today and always:
helloOoOO H :DDD, no 3 for that micro story thingy >:]
"Phil," Techno says despondently. "Phil, how could you?"
Phil scoffs. "Mate, stop being dramatic. I'll just take it back, it's alright."
"No, this can't be fixed" Techno raises his hands in despair. "Phil, I trusted you. How could you to this to me?"
Raising his hands in surrender, Phil relents in between bouts of laughter. "Alright, I get it--"
"Betrayed by my closest friend!"
"--I'll not try and organize your chests again, I'll leave you to your mess next time."
Techno huffs, crossing his arms, and ignores the knowing twinkle in Phil's eyes. He'll quit pretending to be mad at Phil in a few hours, but for now, he plans to milk this incident for all it's worth.
With the syndicate meeting dispersed for the day, Techno collapses on his couch, mentally exhausted after a day of socializing and interacting with others. The cabin is quiet for the first time that day, save for the crackling fire that Techno stares at, relishing in being alone, finally.
"Alright if I join you?"
Phil asks as more out of habit than anything else, already clambering over the arm of the couch to sink into his spot right beside Techno. Had it been anyone else, Techno might feel weary, but Phil has always known when Techno no longer feels like speaking. So he doesn't expect an answer, he just curls up at Techno's side so that the both of them can rest and recharge by the cabin's fire.
When Phil feels two fingers pluck a feather from his wing, he freezes. Stops walking in his tracks in the middle of the hall, and turns, slowly, to face the guest who thought they had just gotten away with something clever.
Beside him, Techno stops too, ears twitching and lip curling in a snarl as he notices the feather that the guest is trying to hide, crumpling it in their hand. Around them, the ballroom has come to a slow stop, the circles around the Emperors noticing the commotion.
And now the foolish guest shrinks underneath the burning gazes of the two Emperors of the Antarctic Empire, frozen in place as they're hit with furious words preceding harsh action:
Phil watches Techno collapse. He watches with his knees digging into the mud, a hand in his hair forcing him to look out at his friend.
He screams, but it's lost to the cries of the crows circling overhead. As Techno's blood saturates the earth, the sky crackles with lightning, and the universe calls for retribution
Deep in the lake, Niki watches the surface of the sea change. The surface is disturbed as another hook gets tossed in the water, the fifth in a row that she's watched snag a fish. She tracks the sinking metal in the water, trailing her eyes up to watch the gossamer thread of the fishing line trail in the water.
She knows who's on the other end, and she knows just what she's going to do about it.
Grasping the line - avoiding the hook - Niki tugs on the line lightly, muffling a giggle in her other hand when she hears a startled exclamation from above. Still tugging on the line, she shimmies her way up to the surface, finally popping out to reveal Wilbur's newest catch.
"Wilbur!" she cheers, propping herself up on the wooden dock.
"Niki!" Wilbur yelps, form flickering incorporeal briefly before staring aghast at his empty line. "Damn it!"
Wilbur stares at the candles, but does not light them.
He knows his altar well. Even if the backdrop of this arctic cabin isn't familiar, his father has a particular way he's always set up this altar, as long as Wilbur has been old enough to know what the altar means.
A diamond has become a permanent piece of the center, nestled next to the rose Wilbur doesn't dare touch. A decorated flint and steel lies waiting, but Wilbur doesn't touch that, either.
He doesn't do anything at all. He stares at the unlit candles, and he does not pray, not to a goddess who has never bothered to hear him before
is unrequited drarry allowed? The aro Harry headcanon never ceases
Hi anon!
Yes, all aspects of Drarry are welcome for microfics, including all types of aromantic, asexual, and queerplatonic relationships, and indeed unrequited love, pre-slash, infidelity, breakups, or unhappy endings (even MCD 😢)
Hit us with all of the varying ways Drarry can exist!
But of course we dearly love Happy Ever After endgame Drarry too!! 💖
