#writing: random

[medievalmiffy]

🍓🍓🍓 WIP Wednesday

Thank you for tagging me @barnbert ! It’s still technically Wednesday here so I’m posting a bit of my Forgot My Invitation fic, even though it’s well past the event days:

“Oh, I see it now.” Robert’s tone is that of a hissing snake, “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

Robert laughs. Not his actual laugh, the unrestrained one that leaves him curling in on himself and the sound coming from deep within his gut, no— the taunting one. The that’s not what your mum said last night one. The bet you I can one that Robert wields as a personal weapon, always pretending that he’s got the upper hand.

“Oh, this— this is pathetic, Aaron,” And, well, fuck Robert is kind of beautiful when he’s being a massive prick, “What, I’m not giving you enough attention?”

Aaron burns, a blush across his cheeks; Robert smiles, cocky and cruel.

“You in love with me or summat?”

So Aaron punches him again, and Robert doesn’t accept the peace offering after.

:::

They don’t speak for a month, then two. Then three. And Aaron watches as he gets replaced with the curly haired Max King.

Not tagging anyone because I missed everything today! Haha whoops

[medievalmiffy]

Seven Sentences Sunday 🫐

Thank you to @maybemystcha @barnbert @aaronsugdens @livflahertydingle @sugdendeeznuts @jonathan-harks and @jackiemerrick and @stuckinanothertimezone for tagging me!!

“Do you ever think about it?”

He imagines his father, his sweat. The smell of something arid and brittle; the yellowed pages of a children’s book he’d once been read.

The answer is that Aaron thinks of it all the time. He thinks of it all the time. All the time. Robert never relaxes anymore and Aaron thinks of it, sees it, smells it on him. The smell and behavior of someone having trespassed.

“It’s you I think about.” Aaron says.

Not tagging anyone because I’m certain I’m last!

[medievalmiffy]

🍒🍒🍒 Several sentences Sunday!!

Thank you as always @barnbert dearest for tagging me!! At this point my fmi fic will be ready by Christmas :’)

The crack of the closet door bleeds light; it flickers when Robert presumably walks in front of it. The doorknob twists and Aaron holds his breath, trying to bully himself up for the worst moment of his life, being discovered hiding in a literal closet—

Someone else enters the room. The floorboards creak underneath their shoes and Robert’s shadow pauses.

“I thought you might not come.”

Aaron recognizes the tone of nervousness in Robert’s sharp inhale.

“Well… first time for everything, isn’t there?” Max’s voice hurts Aaron’s stomach, “Not one to pass up a learning opportunity.”

Robert laughs in a huffy, breathy way. “Right. Come here, then.”

Blood thrums through Aaron’s veins. He’s choking on his own breath— they’re kissing. They’re kissing, they’re kissing, they’re kissing—

There’s a sound of hot breath and Aaron flinches backwards from the door as Robert’s weight is pushed against it.

Obs I’m super late but I’d like to get back into the tagging game so: @aaronsugdens @bartonmatty @jackiemerrick @jcforsapphics @dingleautomotives @dreamer-of-ships and I’m definitely missing a number of people!!

[medievalmiffy]

🪿🪿🪿 WIP Wednesday 🪿🪿🪿

Thank you @aaronsugdens and @dreamer-of-ships for tagging me!! I’ve been v busy with a new job and have had less than no time for writing, but here’s some Dogbert for you all.

Anyways, thank you again!! Here’s tags even though I’m certain I’m the last on the train: @bartonmatty @barnbert @livflahertydingle @aelric @cylonbarnes @capseycartwright @jackiemerrick @jcforsapphics @robrondale 🩶🩶🩶

[medievalmiffy]

🐶🐶🐶

Thank you @barnbert @livflahertydingle and @aaronsugdens for tagging me in WIP Wednesday! Even though it is no longer Wednesday, I’d still like to participate. Also new blog! 🙂‍↕️

He’d sorted that all out minutes ago. The initial shock has worn off. He’d awoken dazedly and confused, first on his location (certainly not a jail cell) and then on why everything was so grey looking. Desaturated, like a flimsy Instagram filter. Then, he’d wondered why he couldn’t rub the crust from his eyes, why his arms felt so puny and weak— it’s because they’re paws.

They’re fucking paws, with calloused pads and tufts of fur in between toes.

He’s been staring down at them for… some time now. Unmoving, unbreathing maybe, just staring down at them against the backdrop of a gravel path. They don’t even seem really like paws should, either, just furry stumps that abruptly end. Robert tries wiggling them; they flop limply as a hand would. He’s got four of them, except one of the back ones is tender with pressure. Putting weight on it isn’t impossible but it certainly hurts—

It hurts. It’s his back left leg and it hurts.

Probably because he last remembers stabbing himself in the fucking thigh with a dull butter knife.