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_______
Sophia
_______Victor Cantrell is the premier balletmaster on the west coast. I could never afford to take a class with him, let alone a private training session. Even watching him train another dancer feels like it could put me in debt.
And yet I can’t look away, even when he catches me watching.
He says he has another way for me to pay, though, and he’s not taking no for an answer.
_______
Victor
_______Sophia is flawed, as a dancer and a person.
She has no idea how much she has left to learn, how much I could teach her.
I want to put her under the pressure of my training and see exactly how long she lasts.
I’ve never had a student who could meet my expectations, and I doubt she’ll do any better than the rest but I’ll enjoy the process of breaking her.
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Those were the sounds Geralt had come to expect after fighting monsters. They soothed him, reminded him that there was something to come back to. Someone to keep living for. Now that Yennifer had broken their counterfeit bond it was so easy to see who that someone was.
However, the music had vanished. There was not a twang or a twitter to be heard, and not a scrap of silk or whiff of sunshine anywhere to be found.
The only living things in the dwarf camp were the dwarves
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Original Sin by incandescentshadows
Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
03 Jul 2019
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Eve was not the first to partake of the forbidden fruit.
Series
- Part 1 of Writing Warm-Ups
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Quentin has gone through so much to get here, to finally reach his heroic end, but a question is still weighing on his mind. If he's thinking it, if he's wondering about the risk that this was a suicide, then he's not done fighting. He's going back, no matter what it takes.
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Quentin cleared his throat and turned towards the closed bedroom door.
“I’ll just, uh-” He waved in a vague way.
Recent series
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Writing Warm-Ups by incandescentshadows
Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
03 Jul 2019
- Words:
- 509
- Works:
- 1
Recent bookmarks
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Summary
"It's not what it looks like," Buck blurts.
Bobby's eyebrows reach for his hairline. "So you weren't violating the one-firefighter-per-shower regulation?"
"We," Buck sputters. "I mean, okay, yeah. We were, but we—"
"We were figuring out breakfast," Eddie cuts in.
"Well, next time, figure it out in different stalls."
(Or: Five Times They Shared a Shower at the Station and One Time They Shared One at Home)
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“Does Buck know he’s your partner and Christopher’s father and expected to come speak with the school?”, Carla asked Eddie, raised eyebrows and all.
Or: Buck and Eddie being oblivious idiots who don't realize they're married. Including when they're married.
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Eddie never asked Buck to kill for him. But he never told him to stop, either.
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"Eddie Begins" but Buck ends up stuck 50 feet underground with Eddie.
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“Dad said that if anything happens to him, I’ll get to live with you. He wrote it in his wish,” Chris says simply, like he’s making complete, logical sense. “And he signed it and everything.”
“His . . . Wish.” Buck repeats. “That he signed?” He’s racking his brain to think of when Eddie might have brought this up or asked him or even mentioned this, but he’s coming up with absolutely nothing. Not a word has left Eddie’s lips about a will or any future plans, but then it suddenly makes sense how he’d come home from his secret meeting a little more relaxed, and then telling Buck to go have some bonding time with Chris, and –
“Oh my god,” Buck groans, covering his face with his hands. “Your dad wrote me into his will.”
“Will!” Chris shouts, the word finally clicking, but then he quickly pauses. “I like wish better.”
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Or, the one where Chris spills the beans about the will almost immediately.