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@deboradale.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:06 PM

“We’re not alone.” This man, this stranger, had somehow made his way into her life. This stranger with a presence that had, at some point, stopped making her feel invaded.
“We are too alone,” she said, standing so close to him she practically felt his #pulse. “We’re just alone together.”
#WIPSnips

@scarletvmitchell.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:04 PM

#WIPSnips

Oh, that was a spicy search!
What wasn’t spicy or spoilery is this little scene where Jack does a tarot card reading during the case in DeadmanWIP…

sensing the energy of the occupants as if he could talk to them. He asked the walls what their secrets were, what they’d seen and known. He asked them how to protect those within. When his breath ran even and he felt a certain sense of rightness slide into place, he stopped shuffling and began to lay cards on the counter.
The three of swords pierced a heart. He knew it represented emotional pain, but something about the red and the heart itself caught his attention, as if he could actually hear it beating an arhythmic pulse. He focused on his breath again and drew another card. The devil. He blinked. The devil card had never indicated some malevolent outside influence to him. It merely represented bad habits, deep-seated fears, temptations, bad decisions, delusions. It wasn’t some shadow man stalking innocent children. He cleared his throat and shook his head, drawing the third.
The burning tower. He let out a little groan of complaint. He hated that card

@sayaashrah.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:01 PM

#WIPSnips 12. “Pulse(s)”

Lots of Pulse(s) in the story when that’s the word for the global time measurement of Arak’shiir/Netherrealm.

#ChroniclesOfTheRealms #SayaAshrah #CaptainNitara #Ashtara #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #QueerWriters

Now she opened her eyes and squinted at the demon, who was sitting on a block of iron and staring down at her, trying to gauge whether Ashrah was making fun of her. No, the captain decided. She doesn’t have the capacity for humour. “How old are you again?”

“Sixty-one thousand, two hundred and forty-seven Pulses. Why do you ask?”

Nitara choked on a gasp. She remembered then how time passed faster in the Netherrealm, which created the vast difference between its Pulses and the years in other realms. After a quick calculation, she estimated Ashrah would be around twelve thousand and four hundred years in the Vaeternian calendar. Still a tremendous amount, but relatively easier to wrap her head around than sixty-one thousand. “Honestly? Because I must be losing my mind.”

Ashrah nodded, solemn. “That is indeed a consequence of exposure to the Abyss. I propose a pact: I shall allow you to drink my alarun and regenerate your strength, and in exchange, you shall agree to fight me until one of us can no longer stand.”

@mkwritesfic.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:58 AM

Nothing too exciting for today, just a short part of the cleansing ceremony. From CultWIP first draft.
TW for self-mutilation and blood
#WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

Blood trickled from the freshly opened wound on Rowan's pale arm, dripping from his fingers onto the altar where so many others had already spilled their own. He hesitated as he watched the slow, steady pulse of crimson continue to well up and trace its manic path across his skin, the golden blade that he had used to slice still poised and hovering in the air just inches from his arm. The edge was not as sharp as it usually was, requiring much more force now to cut open skin, but it had almost made it through yet another cleansing ceremony. There were still dozens more people behind him in line, practically tripping over themselves with elation at the prospect of atonement.

Someone cleared their throat. “Rowan?”

High Priest Silas stood before him, his hand outstretched and his ancient face betraying his impatience. On either side of him stood Mother Superior Sera and Warrior Priest Corvin, as well as their chosen acolytes, who held burning candles in their hands and kneeled with their heads bowed in prayer. Behind High Priest Silas, a bronze idol of Rekshimyr stood tall, nearly brushing the ceiling. The low light of the room cast sinister shadows across his sharp, birdlike face.

@woodenvelt.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:57 AM

I couldn't resist sharing Wren and Spencer's first kiss.

From Thief of Death, my romantic fantasy about a priest of the dead and a thief with a heart of gold.

#WIPSnips #Wrencer #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

“Shhh.” It was barely a sound, the gentle whisper of Spencer’s breath against her skin.
“Give me something else to think about.” She breathed the words into the space between his collar and jaw, uncertain what she was asking for. But Spencer knew— how did he always know? His mouth pressed against hers in a kiss that shoved the terror back down before it could gain any purchase.
Wren curled her hands into folds of his shirt, tugging him closer. Lips parted, she drank in Spencer’s breath and let his tongue trace a trail of hungry fire inside her mouth. One arm was trapped, pillowed beneath them, but his free hand moved, roaming over Wren’s thigh and then her hip, finally resting against the small of her back. She arched into him, sliding a hand up his chest and over his shoulder until it curled around the back of his neck, locking him into the kiss until they had to break free or pass out from lack of air.
Wren buried her face against Spencer’s shoulder to cover the smile that spread foolishly across her face. No one could see her in the dark, but still she felt the urge to hide. He pressed a kiss against her hair and she returned it in kind, a soft peck against his collarbone that made a shiver course through him. Wren’s pulse was racing again, but for an entirely different reason. Maybe that had been Spencer’s plan all along. It was difficult to panic about being trapped at the bottom of a grave if she was panicking instead about desperately wanting to kiss him again.

@zadafalcon.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:57 AM

Substituting "heart."

Jeri discovers that Oryn (a dragon, btw) is exactly her kind of nerd.

#WIPSnips

Crystal and Trylok ducked into one of the crates to put their belongings away. With a grunt, Oryn set his trunk down in the other crate. Alistair slipped past him to put his meager satchel down on the table.
A resounding THUNK had him spinning around. Something had fallen out of Oryn's trunk.
Jeri jumped at the sound, heart in her throat. "Whoa! What was that?" She stepped closer. The object that Oryn had dropped was the size of a softball, made of carved wood or bone, with multiple facets.
"Sorry..." Oryn mumbled, and made to pick it up.
"Hang on, why do you have a giant dodecahedron?"
"Actually, it's an icosahedron and it's for... you know... things."
"Things?" Jeri repeated. As Oryn scooped it up, Jeri spotted numbers on the faces. "Hang on, whoa. Let me see that." Oryn held out the object in his palm. Jeri leaned closer and gasped. "This is a die. A 20-sided die. Why do you have a D20?"
Oryn looked at her, surprised. "You know what a D20 is?"
Jeri rolled her eyes. "Of course! Well, okay, I've never seen a physical one. No one uses physical dice anymore, but I sure know what a D20 looks like!"
"Do you play?" Oryn asked excitedly. "I could run games!"
"Oh, my friends are going to love you," Jeri told him. "I'll bring them later to meet you! For now, I need to get everybody settled."

@abdecker.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:52 AM

She had a knack for inflicting exquisite pain with her fingers. Today the thickness of his jacket may have dulled the effect, but the gesture quickened the pulse in a way he had neither expected nor wanted. He avoided sharing any further memories.
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity

@rvillanova312.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:44 AM

CW:Gore, Death
#WIPSnips
Word of the day is pulse, which I don’t have so we’re going ✨vibes✨
From my short story:The Deeper We Go

-Conner thinks he sees his girlfriend, and he does… only she is lacking a pulse, her head… and parts of her body
#WritingCommunity

Holy shit, Molly, is that you?!” He shouted as he ran to the other side of the cavern, ignoring Ashley and Bec’s protests. Molly sat there as two other figures knelt beside her, and their heads were hidden.
“M-Molly?” he said quietly, touching her shoulder and gently shaking. Molly’s body fell over limply. Only a few strips of flesh kept her head attached. Chunks were ripped from her body. Conner stepped away, but someone grabbed him. It was one of the kneeling men. The man was bald, his beard was crudely shaven, and he had that same symbol carved into his head. His friends were screaming, but it was drawn out by a new noise.

@geniuslemur.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:28 AM

As our heroes struggle to make it through the desert, another obstacle arises.
#WIPSnips #BookSky #MarchToTheFirstGod

@geniuslemur.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:25 AM

#WIPSnips #BookSky #FlyingStarAdventure

@amandabryana.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:21 AM

A cute moment with Kit and Charlie today. Maybe a spoiler, but is it really a spoiler when the main couple in a romance get engaged?

The immediate aftermath of a proposal doesn't look the same for everyone...

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity

‘I’m dizzy.’

‘I know, darling. It’s ok. I’ve got you. Nice and slow for me.’

‘Oops.’ And with that, he passed out in my arms.

He was only out for a few seconds. Long enough for whatever glitched to reset. I just held him, checked his pulse, and watched him breathe until his eyes fluttered open.

‘Welcome back, sweetheart. You ok?’

‘Yes, Sir. I can’t believe you want to marry me.’

‘Enough, or you’ll be spending tomorrow writing lines. I am going to marry you because you are the love of my life and the centre of my world. It is an honour to be able to care for you. And it’s going to be my honour for the rest of my life. I love you so much.’

‘I love you too. I think I need to sleep. Have you got time to lay with me for a while?’

‘Darling, we just got engaged. No work tonight. Just cuddles.’

‘We should be fucking.’

‘Are you horny?’

‘Mainly tired, but you know I always want you.’

‘I do, and that’s why tonight’s for cuddles and my boy sleeping safely in my arms where he belongs. We’ll tell the family in the morning.’ I stood with him in my arms and carried him into the bedroom. ‘Strip for me, darling. Are you warm enough to sleep naked tonight?’

‘Yes, Sir. Say we just got engaged again please, Sir.’

‘We just got engaged. You’re my fiancé and you’re going to be my husband.’

‘I’m so excited.’ He rolled his eyes as I slipped my fingers over the pulse point on his wrist. ‘Ok. I’ll keep the excitement down to non-fainting levels, I promise.’

‘I’m making you sit down when we exchange rings.’

‘Probably sensible. Are you going to give it to me on one knee?’

‘I guessing the right answer is yes, judging by that hopeful tone, so yes. Would you like an audience?’

‘I might still faint. I don’t want an audience for that.’

‘Hmm, we’ll see.’

He absolutely needed an audience, and I would make sure he got one.

@sabrinamars.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:19 AM

#WIPSnips P U L S E ✨

SO MANY good snippets with this word today but I take you to chapter 8 where our reluctant chosen one decides she's ready to be chosen ✨

#writesky #writingcommunity #wip

Soft beams of light with the following text over it: When his eyes met hers, there was a softness to him, ‌much gentler than she had ever seen. “This is the Light crystal.”
Light. More pressure built, suffocating her to the point she didn’t know how to stop—
Ezra put a hand on her shoulder, and that same sensation from the study came on. She could breathe again, her pulse no longer frantic. But still the lights stayed, shifting through hues of gold. Their presence soothed her…welcomed her.
Another deep breath in and out before she said, “Okay. You’re gonna help me use this? And go get the rest?”
His brows shot up as far as they could, his hand tensing over her shoulder. “You are accepting?”
Her heart was still racing, but she nodded.
This will change everything.
Good.
Maybe she needed change.
Her fingers tightened around the crystal.
“Yeah. I’m in.”

@chrisholcombe.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:10 AM

A pulse pounding opening chapter.

Find out if she escapes: shorturl.at/AhnZa

#WIPSnips #booksky #authorsky #writersky #mysterybooks #mysterysky #noir #1920s #queerbooks #lgbtqbooks #gaybooks #queerwriters #lgbtqwriters #gaywriters #queernoir 💙⚡️📚 💙⏳📚 🌈✒️

Kindle screenshot of a page from The Devil Card by Chris Holcombe.

Book cover for THE DEVIL CARD, the 3rd Hidden Gotham Novel by Chris Holcombe. A man in a tuxedo sits at a table holding up a tarot card. Behind him, shadowy men gamble at roulette tables. Tendrils of smoke loop over and around the book title.

The cover is on an iPad that is lying on a shiny, gold tablecloth. A pack of tarot cards rests on the bottom right corner. A orange sticker declaring “Halloween Sale” is on the top left corner.

@triempery.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 10:58 AM

#WIPSnips The word for October 12 is PULSE

A nomari queen's nuptial phases affect the entire nom. Mating is imperative and full of danger and ritual. As a captive among the Piram nomari, Kate is about to find out more about this phase.
#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #SFF

Text excerpt from NOMARA, a science fiction WIP by L.L. Stephens. Snip shows Oandah, a captive queen in her nuptial phase, being ushered to the Queen chamber, leaving Kate behind.

That night the nomari came for Oandah. Torches danced in their holders, throwing light and shadow against the walls, casting glowing shapes upon the floors strewn with dried petals. Dressed in gossamer, her eyes laughing, Oandah went with them, saying nothing when Kate, preparing to go with her, was prevented from following. Warned by their spears, Kate abandoned that effort and sank onto her pallet in the corner of the room, staring at the door which, locked now, barred her from any action whatsoever.
Trapped. Only the outcome awaited her now.
Kate paced and, at one point, smoothed some of Oandah’s oil onto her own rough skin, her nerves growing taut as the purpling sky darkened to the velvet black of night. She smelled good, but they’d forgotten to leave her a light. What was happening? How long did Ibisian matings take? Like almost everything else in the nom, the event would be wrapped in ritual. Deep sonorous vibrations, maybe a kind of drum, beat like a pulse through the walls and floor.

@stephanloy.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 10:30 AM

#WIPSnips The word is 'pulse.' From 'Nightwatch.'
During interrogation of the White One, our neurodivergent Dr. Rodriguez shoves a tablet under the alien's nose. #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WritingPrompts #AmWriting

A barely noticeable twitch of the White One's hood. What did the doc…? Garrett lifted away from the wall and stepped closer to see the tablet screen.
A world map. Lines crisscrossing the image, intersecting in tiny dots. Some of those dots pulsed red, or yellow. "What's that?" he asked.
"A network of theoretical access points between the Nightmareverse and 54 Zanthwood by 3," the doc said. "Factored and prioritized according to Bleed permeability."
"What?"
"We need a more precise designation for the Nightmareverse."
"They're ley lines," Eglemann translated. "They're tears in spacetime between our universe and the bad place. We've been watching them for about a year. She thinks they've existed for centuries."
"Theoretical," Rodriquez said, tilting her head marginally at her engineer.
"It's all bullshit, Sinfonee. You can't track this stuff. We don't have the physics."

@barrows.itch.io Oct 12, 2026, 10:01 AM

#WIPSnips

Yana's first impression of the warmech Tragoedia, our resident neon-punk-rock-lesbian-biker-hunter-killer-drone.

Behind him, an Artificial herded a half curled-up Xyd towards the display-lined walls. Yana recognized the general design—this was a warmech, a memory older and more shameful than even Six's gynoid body, lanky and sharp-angled, with long, free-rotating limbs and a digitigrade lower body. A hunter-killer drone, one of legions once deployed to enact their programming with cold cruelty, with bladed claws atop skeletal limbs, chrome and glistening, designed not for efficiency, but for terror. But even Yana could tell this was not the lifeless shell she'd seen in the museum displays. Cables and fiber optic wires aglow in a hundred dissonant colors were cast about it in the semblance of armor, and atop its surprisingly humanoid skull rested a light fixture in the shape of a mohawk, pulsing blood-red and neon blue at seizure-inducing speeds.

@kaydwrites.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 9:50 AM

#WIPSnips | pulse vibes ✨

Adela's in a bit of a spot here... 😬

From my domestic suspense WIP.

(CW: crash scene, language)

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting

Writing snippet: Daniel arrives in her periphery, panting hard. He puts his fingers against her throat as Diego steps aside.
“Get the trauma kit,” Daniel says. Then, to her, “It’s all right, ‘Del. You’re going to be all right.”
She turns to look at him.
That flash of terror in his deep blue eyes. The slick of hair plastered against his forehead by the rain. The steady heaving of his chest as he assesses her.
“I fucked up,” she says slowly. There's metal mixed into the acid in her throat; her mind flags it, even as it pumps her with adrenaline, preventing her from feeling the full extent, but it’s there, regardless, laced in her breath. She’s bleeding from the inside out.
“Yeah,” Daniel says, and she knows that he’s focused on the head wound, can’t see what she can taste, as Diego arrives with the kit. Daniel presses something against her forehead. “Yeah, you fucked up.” He drops his head for a moment, letting it hang as he continues to hold her to the seat. When he looks up, he’s still breathing raggedly.