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@thatvoidauthor.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 7:52 AM

When you have to make THAT call.

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts #WriteSky

It wasn’t like he was expecting his contact to answer. At best, he could request a call back that may never come.
Fine.
With deliberate care, he set up the comm to minimize field of view and logged into SIDNet. And was honestly surprised that his access still worked.
It was limited, as a quick check confirmed. No access to the sort of information that might help him.
But apparently, for SID, there was no such thing as an ex-asset.
The man he wanted wasn’t listed, of course. But he remembered the comm code. It was one of those things that had become etched in his memory, probably impossible to erase.
The connect screen came up, gray and ominous.
Fifteen more seconds, then he could leave a message and go back to sleep.
Except that the fucking call connected and amber eyes regarded him from the second-most terrifying face he’d ever encountered.
He sat up straighter.
“Sir.”
“Operative Rutherford.”
And it turned out Admiral Qamar was no less intimidating over comm than he was in person.
“Just Ed these days, Sir.”
And he’d just corrected an Admiral. Necessary. But, holy shit.
“Very well… Ed. Any particular reason for this call? Or were you just feeling social?”
His mouth had gone dry and his pulse was fluttering like a trapped bird. But he kept his face and voice neutral.
“I need to request your help, Sir. As it affects Ri—I mean, Spook, Sir.”
His phrasing was deliberate. The admiral and Rina were close. Ed was banking on that fact, although the silence felt oppressive. Finally Qamar sat back and inclined his head.
“Very well, Ed. Tell me everything. You wouldn’t want me to get bored.”

@melwaverly.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 7:32 AM

From WIP2 - Wishing You Knew

Shannon's having a moment.

#WIPSnips #QueerWriters #WritingPrompts #Shaqueline #SapphicWriters #sapphicauthors #WriteSky #Sapphic

Then Jacqueline’s first notes rang through the room, beginning in a rich, smoky contralto before rising into a warm, silvery mezzo. The voice Shannon knew from records suddenly felt different—more unguarded, more alive than she’d ever imagined, carrying a confidence that seemed effortless.
Shannon’s breath caught. Every muscle, every synapse, every tiny hair on her body snapped to attention.
Her focus narrowed until there was only Jacqueline, her guitar, and Shannon herself. When Jacqueline’s gaze found hers, something inside Shannon’s chest shifted. She knew it was only a look, but for one impossible moment, she imagined Jacqueline was singing just for her.
When the song ended, a quiet round of applause filled the room. At least she thought it did. Their hands were moving, but she couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of her pulse.
Mel Waverly - Wishing You Knew, chapter 12

@ewanstone.uk Oct 12, 2026, 7:30 AM

🌶️ CW: SEX

#pulse (throb) from Far Worlds, Book Three of the Lonely Ship Saga.

Young lovers Demi (a heat-drinking undead) and Aki (a cat-boy) take measures to power the ship.

(Read Lonely Ship here! ewanstone.uk/110-2/)

#writingcommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPsnips #spaceopera #erotica #nsfw

The couple’s chosen den, the long storage cupboard that had last been used as a cell for the Flamefall soldier Sleighbor, also lacked the comfort that she liked in medical or an empty bunk room. But she had learned how to lock this door from the inside using the tactical lean of a support splint, so it was at least private. And the clothing forming a fabric matting beneath her wasn’t uncomfortable when shared with someone else. In any case, Aki had approached her boldly just now and taken her hand with the serious proclamation that, ‘The ship requires anima, so we have to go and have sex.’ Her lovely, shy boy was rarely so forward, and she had to reward him so that he’d do it again some time.
Aki thrust himself against her naked pussy with the low growl of a hunting cat. He clearly enjoyed the pressure against his cock, and Demi enjoyed the heat of the blood rumbling in his throbbing tip. His sleek, black tail was swishing above them. He laid a hand on her bare arm and slid it upwards towards her shoulder, and it felt wonderful.
But they’d achieve nothing like this. Demi and Aki had recently been experimenting with substances that could replicate the slickness of a human vagina. Demi had no idea where you could discreetly purchase such a substance, so they had needed to get creative. Something that didn’t drain their resources meant most of the surplus in medical was out, and keeping their skin healthy crossed off a lot of engineering. Therese would have known something good, but…

@pauldixon.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 6:44 AM

Heartbeat for pulse today. From Second Carpathians. Fun fact about me: two separate times in my life I had work, if briefly, as a professional eel feeder. At least sort of. It's a long story.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

She opened her mouth to respond, forgetting for a moment that she was underwater. Water rushed in, and she convulsed, lungs spasming, filled with the horrible certainty that she had just drowned herself.
Except she could breathe. Without trouble, because it wasn’t water but oxygenated gel, the kind of thing she had sucked into her lungs so many times during high-gee transits.
“Who has?” she asked.
“Magellanix,” the moray said. It twisted and turned grotesquely in the remains of Alejandro’s rotting skull. “You have been chosen.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“Of course, you do. They’ve come to take you home.”
“Take me… home?” she repeated dully, still not comprehending. “It can’t be. You’re wrong. They would never have picked me.”
“The best and brightest.” The eel was mocking her now, its voice unmistakably Alejandro’s, but when had that happened? “Congratulations,” it added, grinning.
“But…” Could it be? Was such a thing possible? In an instant, she knew with utter clarity it was true. “I’ll come back. I promise!”
“No, you won’t. No one ever does. You’ll forget this place in a heartbeat, Captain.”
“But…” she stammered, confused. “A heartbeat is a long time!” Thinking — mine only beats twelve times a minute.

@sainiku.northsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 6:27 AM

#WIPSnips

Some world and character building.

Their technology utilizes raw magic as a power source. The engines described here have simplified properties of real-world electric motors, but use magic and mythril in place of electricity and magnets.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Lusana drove us in her carriage west, to the city of Kressa.

She made me promise not to ask about the carriage. She made me promise not to mention it to anyone. She made me promise not to inspect the carriage. She made me promise not to even think about the carriage.

Both trains and carriages were fascinating technologies. The engines produce alternating pulses of raw magic from batteries which — with clever usage of the attractive and conductive properties of mythril — create motion. Miniaturization for carriages, however, was still fairly new.

So new… that nobody owned a carriage. Only very specific businesses even had permits to have them. So I was very happy not to ask where she obtained her extremely illegal carriage.

@caucasiansuasion.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 6:06 AM

Pretty sure pulsars are called that because they pulse 😉 #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

The darkness comes as quiet resurrection.
A dead sun never sets; only drifts, a lighthouse built upon the sand, and Calliope is always the first to feel the ebb of that tide of light as the pulsar’s beam sweeps away from the Zhóu’s orbit and out into deep space.
The way the bearded jawline of Shamil’s face unconsciously unclenches next to her as he sleeps, breath deepening with the pressure drop. The way shadows creep closer from underneath the edges of radiation shutters that none save the eyes of another synthetic such as hers can ever see, ghost trails of ionized dust receding in the x-ray’s wake.
The terror a natural has at the sight of Calvera, leaden curtains rising on a hyper-flattened disc of impossible density revealed all at once, smeared halo of galactic starlight swirling about in fluid arcs of silver and gold, shíkōng itself dragged behind. But not her.
The Glaze cracks at last in her mind.
Reverential silence replaces the heavy load of magnetic static, wetware dreams free.

@peterrobin.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 6:06 AM

#WIPSnips October 12 "pulse" (heartbeat)

From Australian of the Year

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

“Disappointed?” asked Scott.
“No,” said Liberty. “We came into this election to make waves, not win. I came within a heartbeat of upsetting a conservative seat. Waves don't come bigger than that. I don't think I'm really cut out for the life of a politician.”
“In that case,” said Eddie, handing her his phone with the latest results showing, “I have some really bad news for you.”

@sainiku.northsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:57 AM

#LitHodgepodge

Jane & Myself: “Compassion.”
Liz: “I’d say… Kindness.”
Cam: “Honesty, of course.”
Lusana: “Perhaps… Patience?”
Spiral: “Tolerance.”
Erina: “I don’t know! Um… I guess empathy?”
Rinara: “Resilience.”
Arthur: “Hm… Independence, I suppose.”

#WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WriteSky

@rachels-memories.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:57 AM

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips #traumamakesdrama

‘Pulse’ in Skipping a Generation

"BUT I WAS AFRAID I'M TOO OLD, NOW. TO BE INITIATED."
SILENCE — NO. NOT SILENCE. THERE IS THE POUNDING OF SCORPIUS' PULSE, THE QUIET RHYTHM OF GRANDFATHER'S BREATH ALONG HIS NECK, AND THE DRAG OF HIS THUMB AT SCORPIUS' JAW AS IT *OPENS* —
"DO YOU *FEEL* TOO OLD?"
"NO, I —“
LUCIUS STROKES SCORPIUS' JAW, COVERS HIS MOUTH — JUST FOR A MOMENT, AND SCORPIUS THINKS ABOUT TOUCHING HIS TONGUE TO THAT OPEN PALM — BUT IT IS ONLY A MOMENTARY THOUGHT, BECAUSE LUCIUS MOVES HIS HAND TO CUP SCORPIUS CHIN. AND ANGLE IT ENOUCH TO MEET SCORPIUS' EYES.
"YOU *KNOW* ME, SCORPIUS. ALL OF YOUR YOUNG LIFE, YOU'VE *KNOWN*—“
"OH. NO, PLEASE DON'T —“
"WE'VE HAD *YEARS* TOGETHER -"
NOT LIKE THIS. THIS IS *DIFFERENT.* IT IS — *EVERYTHING.*

Skipping a Generation by rachels_memories

DRACO IS TOO CONSUMED WITH GRIEF TO INITIATE HIS SON IN THE OLD WAYS. SO SCORPIUS CONVINCES HIS GRANDFATHER TO PERFORM THE RITUALS THAT WILL MAKE HIM A REAL MALFOY. LUCIUS IS HAPPY TO DO IT. FAMILY IS EVERYTHING.

@rachels-memories.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:54 AM

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips #traumamakesdrama

‘Pulse’ in Spellbound

*Speak,* Hermione."
"I... it's..." She shakes her head, once. "Muggle-born — mud-bloods, we are - thought to be, inherently *less,* we are
— thought to be — at a disadvantage..."
"Are you now."
"Yes —“
"Because of your 'dirty blood.' Mm? Your *filthy* —“
"No, I —“
Lucius slips his hand down to rest at the edge of her curvaceous clavicle. He lets his fingers encircle the base of her throat, thumb and fingertips touching the pulse on each side. It's a gentle hold, only a little threatening. "Shh, my dear."
Hermione nods, or perhaps she is only stretching her neck for air.
"Do you *like* being a *lesser* witch? No?" He laughs — and doesn't release his hand, even when she grasps at it. "Wait, Hermione. Wait, now."

@redhawkkj.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:14 AM

The anticipation of Maddy's very first kiss with a woman had her *pulse* thrumming.

Women's Fiction w/sapphic romance series
#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #lesfic #sapphic

@redhawkkj.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:14 AM

A few cultures use an oil & scrape stick to clean skin. Having the person one has a crush on performing the manuever is bound to make a groin *pulse*.

Western w/sapphic romance series
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@redhawkkj.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:13 AM

Anyone else own one of the multi-stage flashlights & scared themself by accidentally switching the steady beam to the strobe one?. The slower-*pulsed* SOS doesn't lower the heart rate much.

Sapphic romance/? WIP ~1st MC's POV
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