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@ellielieberman.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 6:30 AM

The earrings had been a desperation not unlike hunger, an impulse that cared little for logic or sense. Consequences weren't considered until she was forced to face them. Now, they ran dizzying circles in her head.
- Seven Years' Love (a.co/d/0eIAuPWG)

#WIPSnips

@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.

@lesterdcrawford.com Oct 12, 2026, 6:14 AM

#WIPSnips October 12 - pulse
Hope feels discombobulated.
"Her pulse raced" is cliché. I put a note in the manuscript to remind me to find a better way to say it. "Thoughts swirled" is probably also cliché.
#AmWriting #AmWritingFantasy #AmWritingSciFi

Text that says:
Mister Emery described the techniques he would teach in their upcoming sparring sessions: lunge, thrust, stab, strike, block, deflect, advance, retreat.
Hope's thoughts swirled. Could she do this? Should she do this? Her pulse raced (this is cliché). She breathed and silently hummed.
— The Dragon Universe Hope (working title, work-in-progress)

@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.”

@jamieraeallan.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 6:01 AM

Lots of pulses to choose from. This one I like, tho.
#WIPSnips #Writesky

Her sister’s skin cracked, burned, then healed in a sickening cycle beneath her tattered clothes, dark purple rivers coursing across the seared landscape. Air stuttered through her throat, every breath crying as it entered her dying lungs. Every muscle shook as if she were inside a blizzard. She would die here, after losing both Cady and her sister. Never did she dream that she’d fail them so spectacularly in the end.
Aria raised a hand toward Riley, then jerked it back. Heat pulsed from Riley’s perfectly still body in waves, crashing warm against Aria’s frigid, clammy skin.

@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."

@acturek.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:53 AM

#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #pulse

Shalhra comes for Drisal; his horse has not forgotten him.

- Brother’s Keeper, my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power

Drisal woke. Night still covered him, cold and
unforgiving. Agony danced with nothingness and each kept him fast against the ground in their turn. His eyes closed again, his cheek rested on the earth and he felt a pulse. Faint but familiar, a rhythm beneath him, vibrating his stone-hard bed of frost, knocking gently on his heart. His eyelids fluttered. A
sound came closer, a heartbeat racing in fours, in threes—ever so gently growing louder yet calming, slowing—threes, slower, now twos. Now four again, close, two twice, much closer—now silence.
Drisal lay trembling, listening, afraid to stir a muscle until a
loud, damp puff in his ear blew him over, onto his back. Thick hair dropped and tickled his face. Warm breath and nibbles on his chest and a low, soft
whicker. He lifted his hand.

Brother's Keeper
A.C. Turek

@alyssalouttit.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:36 AM

#WIPSnips I might have laughed when I saw that this one was 'pulse'. So many choices considering I'm writing a vampire-centric story. I decided to go with the first time my FMC's pulse is mentioned.

She turned to look at her vanity. She didn’t wear makeup. Her mother only did for formal occasions. Besides, no amount of lip color or powder could fix what she lacked. She looked nothing like any of the Malstroms. No sign of fangs. Not a speck of red in her eyes. The one time she’d been told to drink blood like them she’d gotten ill enough to be bedridden for weeks. Her pulse was too loud. Her blood spilled too easily and for too long. Her body too frail. Her skin took on color too easy. Her hair curled and too light of a color.

@silassummersauthor.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:32 AM

#WIPSnips - October 12, 2026

Noble and Nyx are about to start the bonding ritual between vampires and humans, something that is a lifetime commitment between the two.

It starts with the vampire drinking some of the humans blood.

#TheRomanticTalesSeries #OwnVoice #WritingCommunity

“You don’t have to do this.” I spoke quietly with a bit of reverence. “This is only one step in the whole process of this partnership. I want you to understand what this means.”

Noble rolled his eyes, “I’m not a child, Nyx. I know exactly what I am doing, I know exactly what I am offering, and I want this.”

"And yet, you’re rolling your eyes like one," Nyx countered.

Noble sighed but relented. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He stepped forward, his bare chest resting against mine. “Nyx, I want to be bonded. It will make us stronger. It will protect both of us. And, in the end of it all, I only see myself wanting you.”

I cleared my throat, unused to these kinds of affirmations. After what seemed like hours of contemplating, I agreed. “Alright. I agree with you, hunter. You have shown me beauty I never would have seen otherwise.” Leaning my face to his neck, I checked one last time. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

With that final word, my fangs extended from my mouth and sunk into the pulse point on his neck.

@asteyni.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:28 AM

Surprised I don't have this one yet, but I do have a synonym or two.

From my sci-fi conspiracy story. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity

He sank into his dressing chair, and Viridian squatted down to clean the wound. Xe wasn't gentle. It hurt like a motherfucker.

Viridian expertly sandwiched complaints and censure between schedule updates, but all of it fell on deaf ears. He hadn't lost that much blood—at least, he hadn't thought so—but the fading adrenaline and throbbing pain made it difficult to focus on anything else. His lieutenant mechanically stripped him out of his clothes and left him alone in the bathroom with stern instructions to finish cleaning himself up. Naturally, Rei ignored those entirely and curled up on the floor with his cheek and brow pressed against the cold marble tile.

@bumblebigirl.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:23 AM

#WIPSnips "Pulse" (using "beat" instead)

How long does a mind last?

Once a mind’s out of its housing then how long does it survive? It’s something no one has ever been able to test before, but I’m about to discover firsthand. Perhaps I only exist until the machine makes another me. Manufacturing a human body can’t be easy right? I should have a little while.
A little while to do what, exactly? Right now I can talk to myself, and that’s about it.
Come on, Kinley, think. If I’ve fallen into this gap between cosmic sofa cushions, maybe Ruby has too. There has to be something of her left, there has to be, or else I’ve just gone and fucked myself for nothing.
I try to call out, but I don’t have a voice and there’s nowhere for the sound to travel anyway. Oh bloody hell, what if I am just stuck here alone? What if this is all that there is now, my mind sealed off in some bubble floating through the void? Somehow, even in the absence of a heart to beat faster or glands to produce sweat, I’m starting to feel scared.
Can’t do that. Got to find a way. I’ll freak out about this later when so much isn’t at stake. I’ve never had much in the way of power over my circumstances, but here I am all that is. Surely I can decide what form my little chunk of reality takes? Perhaps, if I concentrate hard enough, I can give it a shape. Turn it into something searchable.

@ralanr.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 5:15 AM

There really isn't a polite way to use the word 'spawn' when describing a person.

#WIPSnips

<White background, black text>
Alistair rested his cane beside him as he sat down. He took no part in the quail in front of him and turned away the veal when offered. His hunger came secondary to finding the young master. “So, Baron Bleu, we’ve come to your home with the hopes of finding someone.”

“The spawn of Count Gol, yes?” Baron Bleu said, half smiling, half sucking the succulent meat from a crab leg.

Alistair’s stone face hid his rising pulse. “Yes. How did you know?”
“Murrin is interested in forming an alliance with Count Gol. Personally it’s beyond my interest, but Murrin is a close friend so if he asks for my assistance I offer it wholeheartedly. Worry not, your charge is coming here and shall arrive tonight.”

Tonight? Alistair would have leapt from his seat if not for his weak leg. “How do you know this?”

“I have my methods.”

@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
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@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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