#ya gurl is already exhausted and the fam hasn't even gotten here yet x_x
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queenofbaws ¡ 10 months ago
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these weeks just...just keep comin, huh??? like they don't stop or something ;P
another quick update from queenie hq: things are going to c o n t i n u e to be sporadic and strange on my end for the next couple weeks. i'm going to be hosting family, again, until roughly the end of the month, so alas, i'm not anticipating a ton of writing time. or relaxing time. or time where i'm not gritting my jaw and screaming internally. SUCH IS LIFE!
however, i'm totally psyched to report i fiiinally got to cross one long-running wip off my list (the tale(s) of the champion), and oooh the feeling of seeing a complete checkmark for that baby over on ao3 is fueling the fire for me to wrap some others up too ;P my plan for the time being is still to try and get out a chapter or two of like wringing blood in the near future, but i'm also going to be working on finally wrapping of mummy men & bathtub soup so i can open the door for other CREEPs projects. we shall see.
as always, i've thrown some snippets under the cut - strictly supermassive projects this time, hehe - and i hope you're all doing well <3
of mummy men & bathtub soup
“Uh huh. Look. I’m sure you guys have something hilarious planned for me tonight. Another A+ jumpscare courtesy of Washington Pictures, Inc. And I’m also sure that the more of this crap you get me to gobble up, the antsier all your cloak and daggers bullshit makes me, the funnier it’ll be when I fall into a swoon or whatever, but it’s not happening. Am I the brightest bulb in the lamp? No! I’m not! Am I the sort of moron who gets bit by a dog and tries to pet it a second time? Also no!”
Sam had barely started shaking her head when Fliss joined them, an unspoken question in her eyes. She latched onto her instead. “People keep talking about last night. I've heard someone mention weird stuff happening on at least three separate occasions already, so if anyone could give me just a little context, that would be so great.”
“Weird is…one way to put it,” Fliss said. “It’s not the word I would’ve picked. Freakish, maybe. Terrifying, definitely. It must’ve taken you guys forever to set that up! It was—”
“Oh no,” she breathed, dropping her head into her hands. Conrad almost expected her to sink into a nearby chair or go full-on crisscross-applesauce on the floor, so intense was her reaction. She didn’t: If anything, she set her shoulders and squared herself off, assuming the air of a battle-hardened soldier. “Okay. Okay. Okay. Listen to me. I know you think this is about you because you think everything’s about you, but I am telling you, it's not."
upcoming CREEPs project with a title that 100% spoils ALL the surprise of it and thus will not yet be included asdlkfjalskjfklsjdf
“Any word from our housetergeist?”
“Uh, not unless they suddenly share yours and Josh’s love of absolutely inscrutable inside jokes,” Ashley called back, equal measures relieved and disappointed to see the fridge decorated with the same message the guys had put up before their trip: DO THE BARTMAN. Rolling her eyes, she pulled the door open and rummaged around, making a happy little sound when she spotted what she’d wanted. “Hey,” she called again, “are you gonna be upset with me if I drink the last cream soda?”
“Josh might be!”
“I wasn’t asking about Josh, you dip! I was asking about you!”
“Oh. Then, yeah, heartbroken. I-I-I don’t know how I’ll survive! I might have to reassess this whole relationship thing. Honestly, I can’t believe you’d do something as heinous as drink the last cream soda! I thought I meant something to you!”
She grabbed the can and shut the door, groaning, “Ha ha,” before stopping cold.
The fridge magnets had moved.
a fic that started as a joke post but now has almost 40k words written for it
“Hey,” he said, giving the grate a hard shake. They all winced, pulling even farther away until they pretty much fell on top of each other. “Chill. They’re fuckin’ dead. Shit’s fine. Don’t be weird about it.”
Good deed done, he turned back around to rejoin the guys, and—fuck.
Right away, Bobby knew he didn’t like the way Chris was sizing them up. He didn’t know why he didn’t like it, he just knew it spelled trouble, one way or another.
Jack seemed to agree with him. “No,” he said long before Chris even opened his mouth. “Whatever it is you’re brewing in that snowglobe you call a skull, quit while you’re ahead. Or while you still have a head.”
“Your plan didn’t work.” For someone who usually stayed at base during their hunts on account of ‘not wanting to die the world’s stupidest death,’ Chris sure was sticking his finger awfully close to Jack’s face. That was biting range. And Jack could move quick when he wanted to. “Your plan worked even less,” he continued, moving that finger to Travis’s face instead, and Jesus Christ, that was worse!
Travis didn’t answer him. Not at first. He sucked his teeth, though. Stared at Chris’s finger. Probably thought about breaking it off if he didn’t get it out of his face. “If you don’t get that outta my face, I will break it off, so help me God.”
Yeah. Checked out.
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