#sipofsnips

[sipofsnips]

Daily Sip 6/10

You can reblog this post.

You can make your own post.

You reblog someone else's snip!

Just tag it sipofsnips so everyone can find each other. ^.-

[samwhity]

WIP WEDNESDAY

I am alive. Barely but alive.. here is to the next few months being challenging in all the right ways. Tagging @indestinatus and @mrsmungus if they feel like sharing. I hopeyou are doing great ladies.

“He was not just a man”, the sharpness in her father’s voice was unmistakable, “He was family, he was mishpacha”. All of a sudden, Hadar’s frame was all Ziva could see. The strong arms that had made her fly high during those long summer days waiting for her Abba to finish working. Those big dark eyes full of mischief and secrets and the grin he could barely suppress when a beautiful woman walked by.

[innocentlymacabre]

THE CRESCENT OF FOOLS AND FORGOTTEN TIME ⤳ a wip (re)intro

Lucille Carmine is not one to relinquish her hold on someone once her wicked talons have sunk into them, as Jayce all too painfully learns once more. He’s pulled into her employ again, Lott jumping in after his best friend, tasked - under extreme duress, of course - to retrieve The Liminality Paradox. Previously thought to have been nothing more than a bedtime story, Jayce and Lott find themselves unwillingly heading to The Crescent of Fools and Forgotten Time, right into the heart of The Fool’s domain, a place where time and space lose all meaning, where everything that has ever happened is happening all at once and where nothing ever happens all the same. A place where the ends of the universe could be nothing more than a hop, skip, and a jump away, but the five feet in front of you could stretch out to infinity and beyond. A place where the insane rule sovereign and the sane are grinded to a dust, folded into the ripples of the Crescent. All to steal an artifact of untold power for one of the most dangerous overlords of the criminal world, and to lay even more unchecked power at her feet for her to abuse.

STATUS: querying

GENRE: urban fantasy / heist / comedy

MEDIUM: feature film

WARNINGS: description/depiction of wounds, death and pain (will be modified as necessary)

LINKS: WIP tag (x) | Ko-fi 💜 (x)

general taglist in the comments (ask to be added/removed!) // newsletter

any boosting would be much appreciated!

picture credits: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

[transman-badass]

Daily sip 4/8 (bubble)

I don't normally do posts like this but oh. Ohhhhhohohohoho. This was too good to pass up.

From Lock the Last Door (CW: mentions of period typical sexism and misgendering):

I made it halfway up the porch steps before I saw it. Them, really, a thick little pile stacked up and glimmering in the moonlight. I paused, my bad hand shaking from how hard it clenched. Soap bubbles, I thought, iridescent and wet, right in front of the door. Like a child played there before coming in at their mother’s call, leaving only memories and residue behind. This was a business trip I was on. When that lady entered Keller and Queen’s, frantic to find her runaway son, my boss thrust the case onto me. He’d been giddy with relief, babbling about how this job would be easy, how all it needed was ‘a woman’s understanding’. The poor woman didn’t get it, even after I opened my mouth to interview her. Through the door, I saw Carmine struggling not to laugh at her desk as our boss made a fool of himself, her sweet face twisted with amusement. Yeah, there are two people in the whole city who never fail to treat me as a man. Carmine’s one of them. Looking at those soap bubbles, listening to that music floating through the air, something in me ached. What I would've done to have her with me. Carmine and I are a hell of a team. You get used to having a partner on jobs, and when they’re gone, it’s like you’ve lost a limb. But she needed sleep. And frankly, so did I. I looked closer at the bubbles. They didn’t move in the breeze, oil slick rainbows shimmering on every one. Did the kid make that mess? At fifteen he seemed a little old to play that kind of game. Maybe there were other kids with him. The thought made me grimace, pinch the bridge of my nose with my good hand. Fantastic, I thought. Just what I needed, a bunch of rowdy little bastards to try and send home. I shook my head, stepped forward and grabbed for the door knob. The bubbles cracked under my boot like a hundred tiny bones.

Tag list under the cut

@slenders1ckn3ss @jacqueswriteblrlibrary @higgs-space @phantomnations @mushabumi @assistantdirector--janson @yourheartonfireblog @jade-island-lives @carnocus @cecuesta @darkhorse-javert @lizadomuch @minutiaewriter @calicohyde @passthebeat-blog-blog @dragonedged-if @andromedaexists @cyanide-latte @late-to-the-fandom @eldritch-flower @cljordan-imperium @royal1asset-if @pineywitch @fragrant-stars @mynameis40and4 @starry-voids @divine-anarchy @elbritch-kit @tousled-birdmad-girl @pen-for-sword @noightwitchers @bee-barnes-author @amielbjacobs @dyrewrites

@tantrill @garden-of-mythology-and-fate-go

[dyrewrites]

@sipofsnips reaches 100 weeks when the new ones go out.

So, um, that's insane and I have to celebrate. If you participate in the sips be aware that your snip might be randomly chosen for narration.

I'll record at the end of December and share them on new year's day.

>.>

Thank you for participating in this silly thing. I am so happy to see people join in and share and just... write.

Means a lot to be part of that.

[rowancampbell-author]

sip of snips word game 1/26

The word today was SINCERE and I actually have this one! This is a snippet from "A Night at the Brass Sword" my 90s horror WIP.

“Damn.” “You said it.” Ziva shook her head, “You guys don’t play.” A man in a comfortable looking swivel chair looked over and Kat followed his gaze. She smiled when she saw Ziva. “Hey Ziva, look at all of this! They have cameras set up already, and multiple sensors to monitor ghost activity. Two of them are night vision equipped cameras of course.” “Nice babe. Who are you?” She gestured to the man. He was handsome in a nerdy way with tousled black hair and stubble from his upper lip to his Adam’s apple. He had big round glasses and seemed to have a hearing aid in his left ear. “Pardon?” He gestured to his ear. “Sorry, uh, I asked who you are? I’m Ziva.” “Ah, the girlfriend.” His smile was sincere and utterly disarming. “Kat told me a lot about you. You both seem like good people. Sorry we all just barged in here like we owned the place.”

@dyrewrites see sissy, I am participating!

--

taglist: @anonymousfoz @schepper-wubs-wips @dyrewrites @mr-orion

[writingrosesonneptune]

Sip of Snips 1/18 - Neck

Longer snip from one of Esolie's early chapters in Until Then.

Content Warning for Child Death and Funerals

The next time Esolie saw the pendant, it was hanging on a longer ribbon around the Queen's neck. She and other members of the court surrounded Isábel's coffin in the main hall while a priest chanted overhead.

Stunted winter berries and sprigs of evergreen were all the mourners could scrounge for her funeral. Only the bakers had provided a significant offering in the form of a twisting tower that stood among the wreaths. Steam ceased rising from the bread almost as soon as they carried it into the hall; it was long cold by now.

"This sad affair is unbefitting a princess," Esolie's father mumbled as he locked eyes with another courtier. "If my daughter's wedding was half this meager, I'd never recover enough to meet my eye in the looking glass. Can any among us imagine sending our children to the earth as though they were paupers? Giuliana will be on the warpath."

It wasn't just the lack of roses and fruit that made this funeral different than those of Isá's brother and their father a few months earlier.

Esolie couldn't bring herself to believe her friend was gone. She kept expecting Isá to emerge from behind a long banner, giggling wickedly at the great upset she had caused. It seemed she was still waiting upstairs in her chamber or hiding in the garden, eager for another game, another trip to the stables, another endless round of questions that left Esolie exhausted and annoyed.

Was she really lying eternally silent in that stone box, draped under the banner of her family? Did she feel trapped under that image of snarling badgers that had always frightened her with their teeth and claws ready at the other's eyes?

[isherwoodj]

Sip of Snips: 'Throw' (15 APRIL 2025)

(sipofsnips' post here). Again, let's pretend I posted this a few days ago.

—

‘Oh, that,’ said Markov. His miserable expression had given way to boredom. ‘I don't think there's any point to doing that anymore.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘I've figured out who it was. And if I'm right, then Kearney definitely already knows. So there's no point.’

This was a surprise to Abrams. Though he didn't discount the possibility that Markov was just speaking out of his arse to spite him. ‘Care to elaborate?’

‘I don't know why I should,’ Markov said.

Losing patience, Abrams said, ‘You know exactly why you should.’

‘Why?’ said Markov resentfully. ‘Because you'll tell Kearney about all of this? Go on, tell him. I don't care anymore.’

‘Come on, be reasonable. You think I can't tell when you're bluffing? Just calm down, would you?’

‘I am calm, and I'm not bluffing. I just don't care.’ And then he did look as though he would cry. ‘Just do whatever you want.’

‘Well, what I want isn't this,’ said Abrams firmly. ‘I don't want you to be reckless and throw your life away just because you're pissed off at me.’

—