#lied to y’all btw. excerpt is over 700 words. choice is an illusion ’round these parts.

[adelaidedrubman]

wip. well. it’s something.

i was tagged on my most detested of wednesdays by my most beloved of moots @trench-rot @cassietrn @wrathfulrook @socially-awkward-skeleton @nightbloodbix @direwombat @inafieldofdaisies! thank you my loves.

unfortunately between work bullshit and all my free time getting eaten up by the tadpole in my brain, i haven’t had the chance to actually write much new. but trying to keep myself posting as motivation SO here is an excerpt from chapter four of hook, line, and sinker i don’t think i’ve shared before (if i have, no i didn’t)

Jessie grunted with a flex of her shoulders to yank the cooler further up the uneven slope of the hill — finally giving up rolling it on plastic wheels thoroughly warped by unforgiving rock to instead hoist it up and carry it by the side handles with tackle box stacked atop it as their footing became so steep and uneven it felt as if they were ascending stairs. “I don’t fuckin’ let a good catch go to waste.”  “You’re a paragon of virtue,” John complimented flatly. “A modern day Jesus feeding the multitudes loaves and fish.”  “Hm,” she acknowledged, either missing his sarcasm or choosing to accept the praise in spite of it. “Pretty apt fucking comparison — ’cept I wouldn’t need a miracle. I would just catch enough fish in the first place.” 

John sighed, pressing his palms against the upper platform of the small rock wall nestled at the side of the security fence hugging the road they’d finally arrived at, rising just high enough anyone sufficiently athletic could hop over the barbed wire coiled along its top.  Perhaps it was a mistake to even lead a sinner like her into the heart of the compound. Perhaps he should rush over the fence himself, and leave her behind with her precious cooler full of fish.  If it weren’t for her potential to lure in the Ryes, he thought he would.  Instead, he powered through and held out his hand in offering for her to grab for leverage and climb up to join him atop the boulder.  She answered by shoving the hefty weight of the cooler into his abdomen, knocking the air from his lungs. “Hold this for me.”  “God,” he complained as he (shamefully, regrettably) followed the order on instinct, arms trembling and nearly giving out beneath the weight of the cooler before he could shift his posture and stabilize himself. “How the hell did you even lug this around for as long as you did?”  She shrugged, shoulders dipping down as her hands reached up to find holds at the rock and pull herself up to stand beside him on the small, uneven platform. “Fishing takes upper body strength,” she replied. “You’ll get there, if you ever manage to reel in something heavier than a cattail.”  “Well,” he said with a sneer. “If you could use some of that well-honed upper body strength to hop over the fence with expediency.” He could warn her to watch out for the barbed wire, but then again… “Once you’re on the other side, I’ll lower the cooler down to you so you can continue wasting time and energy struggling with it.”  She climbed a step further to rise higher than John, squinting in the dark to study the fence. “We have to hop a fence?” she asked, sizing it up. “You better not be leading me onto some fuckin’ top secret military base where they’re gonna shoot nosey trespassers first and ask questions never.”  “It’s a private community,” John replied, adjusting the weight of the cooler. If she didn’t move soon, he thought he would simply push her over the fence, and deal with the complaining. “They just value safety. But I have permission to be there. You need not worry about trespassing, so long as you’re with me.” It wasn’t like she would be easily able to climb back over the fence and run, once she was past it, anyways. And she wouldn’t have the lay of the land once she was inside its bounds, she couldn’t just go running off. He would have much more control over the situation — over her — the second she was over that fucking fence.  “Ladies first,” he offered with a strained purr and a nod towards the fence. “Unless you’d like to keep waiting around, until one of the bears the fence was built to keep out wanders up and mauls you to death.” “You think a bear would go after me?” She scoffed, flashing a single raised eyebrow and a lopsided grin. “You’re the one holding a cooler full of fresh caught fish,” she snorted, patting the lid as she brushed by him.  “What’s that old saying about bears?” she hummed with a teasing rise as she planted her feet at the ledge of the rock, bending slightly at the knees in a readied-to-jump stance. “Don’t gotta outrun ’em, just gotta outrun the twink?”  He prayed that barbed wire would catch her and slice open the exposed portions of her skin as she leapt to sail over its twisting spikes. No such luck, rather than agonized screams he was met with a mere mildly pained ‘oomph’ from the thud of her hitting the ground — landing on her feet, he was disappointed to see.  The little wretch had physical prowess, if no other admirable qualities.

sending those always no pressure no time limit tags out to @g0dspeeed @shallow-gravy @roofgeese @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @poetikat @just-another-wasteland-merc @simplegenius042 @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @belorage @deputyash @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @nightbloodbix @ladyofedens-blog @miyabilicious @quickhacked @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @8bitpizzacoupons @strangefable @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @corvosattano @strafethesesinners + like/unlike here to opt in/out of wip day tags!