#actually six sentences

[cluelesspigeons]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thank you for tagging me last week @m0srael. I’ve been thinking about this for a bit cuz most of my WIPs are for anonymous fests, so i can’t really share much of that. But i did find something from an old WIP that i might continue some day. Not sure when. Anyway, here are 6 sentences. And I’ve also NOT forgotten about a tag game for once. I feel like this is progress!!

The darkness around him filled his lungs, making it impossible for any air to come in. Panic wrapped around his chest. He couldn’t breathe! He was going to die! This was it. But then, that quiet, soothing melody was back again, pushing the panic away.

I’ll be tagging some people as well @nelweensfic @owl-of-fandom @steampunkserpent27 @shealynn88 & @getawayfox. Feel free to skip this if you’ve already done this or if you don’t feel like doing it :))

[kaleidoscopiccc]

oh you hate musicals? oh so youre allergic to all fun and whimsy then? youre against all joy and giddiness brought in front of you huh? you just hate any and all happiness and silly times dont you?

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

OP: Check out. The fully-sexual charged cinematic movement design.

Cnetizens: How did the director come up with the idea to have him kneel on a playing card, adding so much aesthetic energy, is that some kind of genius?

[coquelicoq]

if you're wondering what the big deal is about the louis-philippe sentence in les misérables, it is, in the original french, 760 words long. the subject of the sentence doesn't appear until 95% of the way through, at word #711; the main verb is word #712. the sentence contains 91 commas and 49 semicolons and is almost entirely a list of laudatory adjectival phrases describing the erstwhile king of france. this is perhaps especially notable because les mis is, shall we say, not known for being particularly gung-ho about the monarchy.

this sentence copied and pasted into Word takes up more than one page single-spaced. in the 1800-page folio classique edition, it is fully two and a half of those 1800 pages. that means that les mis is 0.14% this single sentence. more of les mis is made up of this sentence than earth's atmosphere is made up of carbon dioxide (0.04%). if the page count of les mis stayed the same but every sentence was the length of this one, les mis would consist of only 720 sentences total.

incidentally, guess who named hugo a peer of france 17 years before the publication of les mis?

[gertritude-art]

sometimes when you're not a great programmer and everyone looks at you and goes "i don't know... that's scary" when you want to do something in ren'py you have to get creative and by creative i mean code that would make an actual programmer get mad at you

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

Six Sentence Sunday

What the fuck could Ted want? He had been pretty fucking clear the other night that Jamie had burned all his bridges and now was stranded on an island of his own making.

“Jamie? What the heck happened to you?” Ted asked, eyes wide in shock and faux concern.

He would’ve rolled his eyes if he wasn’t convinced it would actually hurt his bruised face.

“Fell,” Jamie answered flatly, leaning gently against the door frame, trying to offer an air of unaffectedness. “What do you want, Ted?”

[seastarblue]

Six Sentence Snippet Sunday!

Good day! For today’s Six Sentence Sunday—courtesy of the @creators-club —AND for Snippet Sunday—where I’m tagging @tracle0 —I’ll share a bit from the Interwoven Halloween Special!

(Psssst lemme know if you’d like to be tagged when it comes out! I’m aiming for the 31st, but it mayyyyyy be delayed by a few days 😅)

———

The two knights were on the opposite outskirts of the crowd—Kaiden on the upper levels of the city, Felix on the lower—needing to stay vigilant for any suspicious activity. A vibrantly decorated stall stood on Kaiden’s right, displaying decroative lunar runes to be sold for the low, low price of three coppers.

The knight leaned against the side of the stall, making sure to stay out of sight from the stallkeep—she didn’t want to be haggled into buying a cheap rune. ‘I—we— need to be focused,’ she thought, ‘and that doesn’t involve partaking in festivities—wait a damn minute.’

Something had caught Kaiden’s eye. She skimmed the rest of the street from her spot, only to facepalm at the sight of her partner-in-justice merrily chatting away with a woman in front of another—somehow brighter—shop.

———

:3

[shivunin]

Six Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @dreadfutures to post the last six lines I wrote--thanks, Blue!

From a prompt response that I think I'm going to have to restart on (but this scene will absolutely get used somewhere--it's too sweet to not):

“When I moved into the alienage, it felt horribly strange. The walls were too tall and I didn’t have many things that felt like home. I would collect stones when we walked and lay them against the floor when I came back, so I could walk on something that seemed normal.” “Oh, Merrill,” Hawke said, and rested a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “You never told me.” “I didn’t know you well enough to say. We weren’t friends yet,” Merrill said.

Tagging in turn: @jtownnn @greypetrel @inquisimer @zencetera @elfroot-and-laurels @bitchesofostwick and anyone who's working on something they want to share <3

[whatevertheweather]

Hey, remember 3 weeks ago when I said the next chapter of Bait and Switch was 2 scenes away from done?

That was before I went "but actually this should go over here and let's move this up here and this thing down here and then what if we put this whole thing in the next chapter and then--"

So writing is going very normally. Anyway, now that I'm on the third version of this document, the chapter is actually about ¼ of a scene away from done, and I do think this was all necessary, so ha. In any case, actual snippet is below the cut.

I lean away from the screen. Look away. Look back. Take a breath. My eyes are all over the place, moving around the room like I’m going to find someone watching me. One hand on my half-knotted tie, the other braced on the back of my chair, because I’d only meant to open my laptop for a second. Just to check.  I’m not blushing. I’m warm. I get up to open the window, but it’s already open. I sit back down. I look at the screen. It’s not even— It’s— I’m late for class. I wasn’t—I didn’t even mean to sit down. I didn’t think there was going to be an answer. But he— It’s not— Baz would never say that to my face.

Looking through the doc to find something was making me antsy as hell, so I decided to stop doing that and just share the part where I gave up on the task. Sorry there's no context. But now, tags!

@fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @cutestkilla @whogaveyoupermission @artsyunderstudy

@monbons @mooncello (thank you both for the tags!) @moodandmist @martsonmars @bookish-bogwitch

@aristocratic-otter @facewithoutheart @alexalexinii @rimeswithpurple @iamamythologicalcreature

@ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife @confused-bi-queer @noblecorgi @onepintobean

@raenestee @thewholelemon @run-for-chamo-miles @youarenevertooold @forabeatofadrum

[larkral]

Oh hello again! Twice in one week? I KNOW! Thanks for the tags @imagineacoolusername @orange-peony @thewholelemon @wellbelesbian @mooncello

@run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire and @monbons !!! Such an active week. I love it! Excited to read the COBB stuff that's coming out, and VERY enticed by many snippets and arts being posted right now!

So, this week has been a lot, BUT I did some crafting AND I started writing my Firstprince Soulmate BS. It is now over a thousand words? I don't know. My brain works in mysterious ways. My crafting is making a lampshade. I don't know, because I am very particular about what I like? Steps one and two of about a thousand steps on the current project I'm working on, but that's more than zero!

I've also done some work on Simon's two mums this week, though not quite as much as the Firstprince soulmates. So. Have six sentences of each:

Finally (already, always):

At lunch, after I sit down, Baz sits opposite me. He grits his teeth.  "Thank you," he says. Then into his water glass, he mutters, "Sorry." "Yeah," is all I can get out.  Penny sits down and doesn't say anything about it.

First Prince Soulmates BS:

 "Sorry, I'm only used to dressing like this at fundraising galas for the British Ornithological Society." "Of course," Alex volleys back, "The natural habitat of duck jokes." She laughs again, the column of her neck elongating as her head tilts back in delight, and Alex wonders if there might be at least one upside to having to attend The Royal Wedding.  He wonders if there's any way he can ask her if she intends to continue studying the annual coloration changes in the Gadwall remicle as they relate to anatidae seasonal monogamy and whether she thinks there's really an evolutionary path by which that's related to the wrist banding mark in humans. You know, without revealing himself as both a soulmate freak and a duck sex freak. There definitely isn't.

I promise there's a good explanation for why I've made Alex someone who knows all about duck sex, even though it may never appear on screen.

Tags under the cut!

I don't know who to tag for firstprince other than the folks I've already tagged for first prince and @kiwiana-writes, so consider yourself tagged in if you're a firstprince Six Sentence Sunday person.

Also tagging my usual Simon Snow crew: @stitchyqueer @confused-bi-queer @raenestee @facewithoutheart @whogaveyoupermission

@cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @sillyunicorn @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @basiltonbutliketheherb

@ileadacharmedlife @asocialpessimist @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @captain-aralias

@petedavidsonscock @artsyunderstudy @carryonvisinata @takenabackbytuesdays @martsonmars

@nausikaaa @nightimedreamersghost @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ionlydrinkhotwater @that-disabled-princess

@shrekgogurt  @palimpsessed @fatalfangirl​ @blackberrysummerblog​ @valeffelees

@j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @emeryhall @run-for-chamo-miles @talentpiper11

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

Six Sentence Sunday

Greetings, my dearest loves, and welcome back to another installment of "Val has worked a ridiculous amount of hours this week/weekend, AND she has to work tomorrow, so she's scheduling the shit out of this post and going to sleep!" Hooray!

I went back and forth on which snippet to share with y'all this week. Did I decide to go with another portion of the next chapter of At the End of a Bar, that nearly every reader/commenter has been begging for a continuation of (and making me blush every time)? Or did I choose a portion of a new WIP that I started before the sun had even risen earlier this week while talking with @thinkof-england about some...things I can't yet share...that were going on in my personal life?

Well...since the new WIP barely HAS six sentences, I'm going to be gracious and give y'all more than six sentences of At the End of a Bar. Enjoy! (Hopefully)

He’s already heard Henry laugh. Several times, in fact, in several ways, just tonight alone. A nervous giggle when Alex leaned in and whispered that he was the hottest person he’d ever seen. An incredulous huff when he revealed his favorite Star Wars movie and Alex informed him how completely and utterly wrong he was. A full-bodied howl of a thing that turned a few heads as he recalled the look on his ghoul of a grandmother’s face when he told her that he was moving to Texas and would be riding more than just horses. But the laugh that crosses the boundary of his perfect lips when he comes can only be described as euphoric. A sound so exquisite that anyone who’s ever heard it should consider themselves blessed to have witnessed such a remarkable thing. Head thrown back, blond hair glistening with sweat, pink lips pulled over white teeth in a wide, gummy grin, blue eyes practically glowing. Alex would like nothing more than to be the cause of such utter bliss every day, several times a day, for as long as Henry will allow him.

Putting some no-pressure tags out into the universe and behind the cut, as well as laying out an open tag for anyone else who might wish to tag me and share their beautiful work from this past week!

@adreamareads @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @barbiediaz @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @daisymae-12 @duchessdepolignaca03 @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable @getmehighonmagic @guillermosfamiliar @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @indomitable-love @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @leojfitz @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @msmarvelouswinchester @mulderscully @ninzied @notspecialbabe @onthewaytosomewhere @priincebutt @rockyroadkylers @ships-to-sail @songliili @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @suseagull04 @theprinceandagcd @thinkof-england @tintagel-or-cockleshells @typicalopposite @user-anakin @vanillahigh00 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew @zwiazdziarka

[bigassbowlingballhead]

Sentence Sunday 4/14/2024

The time has come. with some light friendly bullying from @taste-thewaste inspired by some tags I left on a post from @agostobuwan

I've started my first piss fic.

Alex swallows down the last bit of his second glass of champagne as the procession music starts to play and everyone stands. June walks down the aisle in a sun-yellow dress holding a tiny bouquet of sunflowers and white daisies.  “June looks so beautiful,” Henry comments as she passes them. “Mmhm” Alex agrees without looking, he can’t focus on anything but the twinge in his bladder, maybe he shouldn’t have had that second glass after all. “Hen, I gotta fuckin’ piss,” he whispers into Henry’s ear.  “I told you to take it easy on the champagne before the ceremony, you know how it runs through you.”

thanks for the tags

@eusuntgratie @cha-melodius @duchessdepolignaca03 @wordsofhoneydew @thinkof-england

@heysweetheart-writes @nocoastposts

no pressure tags: @taste-thewaste @agostobuwan @sparklepocalypse @anincompletelist @getmehighonmagic

@magicandarchery @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @littlemisskittentoes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @affectionatelyrs

@happiness-of-the-pursuit @captainjunglegym @lostcol @firenati0n @onward--upward

@sheepywritesfics @insecuregodcomplex @cactusdragon517 @inexplicablymine @dreamsinthewitchouse

@doublecheekeddiaz @fivequartersoftheorange @oxfordslutphase

[hidey-writes]

six sentence sunday

There is no unselfish reason to stay. Gu Yiran was never going to belong here in Halan; he’d only been kidding himself all this time that things were changing.  Zheng Bei is still standing there, silent, three steps in past the door. His head and shoulders silhouetted by the square yellow light of the front windows. Gu Yiran looks past him, out through the windows at the empty air above the apartment courtyard and says, “Yes, I think I’ll only stay until the case closes,” and feels the unfamiliarity of the word until in his mouth. He hasn’t been able to see an ending coming for years.

anyway, i've decided i really want to lean into the imminent tension of the case closing and gyr potentially leaving since in canon we glossed over this completely via gu yiran's phone call skills. also, i have become obsessed with zheng bei's yellow front windows apparently, this is the second, maybe third bit i've written this week that involves those yellow windows.

[queenofbaws]

Begging on my KNEES give me some of that sweet sweet jossam sustenance (preferably creeps cause I’m rereading lmao but I’ll take ANYTHING 👀) hope you’re doing well and had a lovely weekend!!! Thank you <3

She refused - refused - to believe it had actually taken him that long to notice, considering it had happened a hundred years ago, back when he'd first met her outside the student center, but when Josh gestured with his iced coffee and muttered, "What in the...when did this happen?!" it was with all the shock and awe of a theater student being told no, actually, people didn't enjoy it when you just randomly broke into song.

Unfortunately for him, she'd never taken a theater class in her life - Chris and Ashley could 'yes and' him all they wanted, but Sam played her own games, thanks very much.

"What, this?" she teased, promptly slipping her pinky out from where it had curled around his, having kept their hands linked without all the ick-factor of sweaty palms in the late-spring heat.

"Hey, whoa, hey, touchy, touchy...I don't think I said anything about stopping," he snickered, trying (and failing) to snatch her hand back as she angled herself this way and that, "I was just asking a simple question."

Sam crinkled her nose and glanced up at him, joking, "Pretty sure I gave you a simple answer," only to drop the act and laugh as he slung his arm around her shoulders to pull her close again. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," she smirked even as she leaned against him, pointing towards his hand as it hung near the strap of her messenger bag, "well now...when did this happen?"

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

[monbons]

Six Some Sentences Sunday

Thank you to @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for the tag! Your snippet of Back and Back and Back was lovely. Little baby Baz with a smiling, knowing Simon was adorable.

After the major reveal of Chapter 4, it is going to get harder to do updates without huge spoilers for those of you who have not yet started reading. There are only two solutions to that problem: 1) you can no longer click on my previews at all--I know some of you have been reading them even though you aren't reading the actual fic yet!--or an even better solution, 2) you start reading! You won't regret it, I promise.

With that in mind, the first two paragraphs of Chapter 5 should be safe for everyone, even if you haven't been completely sucked in by The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch yet. (Although seriously, what are you waiting for???)

Hampshire, England March 8, 1708 Natasha has always insisted that glassworkers are forged in the crucible of heartbreak. After all, to become a master glassblower, the kind that produces tableware worthy of the crown, means years of suffering, of failure and injury, of glass gone wrong in every way imaginable, before finally producing anything of note, anything worth keeping. Baz may have grown up a glassworker, but his crucible is only just beginning. 

Hellos and high fives! @emeryhall, @thewholelemon, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch, @raenestee

@roomwithanopenfire, @beastmonstertitan, @drowninginships, @valeffelees, @iamamythologicalcreature

@best--dress, @hushed-chorus, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @shrekgogurt @youarenevertooold

@arthurkko, @noblecorgi, @aristocratic-otter, @comesitintheclover, @ivelovedhimthroughworse

[dude-why-3]

Anyway, six sentence Sunday because i am on a roll today:

"What?" Armin opens his mouth but then bites his lip. Then he smiles again. "You're beautiful," he says, his voice so quiet she needs to lean closer in order to hear him. Annie’s eyes widen. She falters and almost drops the paddle in the water, but thankfully manages to catch it in time, bending over the edge of the canoe, dipping her hand in the water in the process.