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Asphalt, River, Mother, Child - Isabel Yap
The girl does not come to Mebuyen, so Mebuyen goes to the girl.

She is standing ankle-deep in the river, looking down, her mouth open. Mebuyen notices, as she draws closer, that the child’s calves are skinny, her cheeks chubby, and her SpongeBob Squarepants sando has a bullet-sized hole above her ribs. Mebuyen frowns as she steps into the river, waiting for the girl to speak.
'fiction  -profic  "death  ^good  @isabelyap  $gen  :2k-10k 
9 days ago by sophia_sol
Field Biology of the Wee Fairies - Naomi Kritzer
When Amelia turned fourteen, everyone assured her that she’d find her fairy soon. Almost all girls did. You’d find a fairy, a beautiful little fairy, and catch her. And she’d give you a gift to let her go, and that gift was always beauty or charm or perfect hair or something else that made boys notice you. The neighbor girl, Betty, had caught her fairy when she was just nine, and so she’d never even had to go through an awkward adolescent stage; she’d been perfect and beautiful all along.

Not all fairies were equal, of course. Some of them would do a much better job for you. The First Lady Jackie Kennedy, for example, had caught the fairy queen. Or so almost everyone said. “So keep your eyes open,” Amelia’s mother told her.

“I don’t want to catch a fairy,” Amelia said. “If I did catch a fairy, I’d keep her in a jar like my mice and study her.”
'fiction  -profic  @naomikritzer  "fairies 
4 weeks ago by sophia_sol
Everything Under Heaven - Anya Ow
“So you’re a chef,” the huntress said, after she’d saved the day, “and you’re out here to hunt and cook a dragon?”

“Yes?” Kee picked leaves off her muddied pants, a futile gesture.
'fiction  -profic  $gen  $femslash  :2k-10k  @anyaow  "food  via:sophia_sol 
10 weeks ago by sentientcitizen
The Tale of the Three Beautiful Raptor Sisters and the Prince Who Was Made of Meat - Brooke Bolander
Once upon a time, long, long, long, long, long, long, ago, there were three raptor sisters, hatched beneath a lucky star. They lived in a wood together, they stole sheep and cattle together, and all in all, there was no tighter-knit hunting pride of matriarchal dromaeosauridae between the mountains and the sea.
'fiction  -profic  @brookebolander  $gen  "dinosaurs  :2k-10k  via:sophia_sol 
10 weeks ago by sentientcitizen
Everything Under Heaven - Anya Ow
“So you’re a chef,” the huntress said, after she’d saved the day, “and you’re out here to hunt and cook a dragon?”

“Yes?” Kee picked leaves off her muddied pants, a futile gesture.
'fiction  -profic  $gen  $femslash  :2k-10k  @anyaow  "food 
10 weeks ago by sophia_sol
The Tale of the Three Beautiful Raptor Sisters and the Prince Who Was Made of Meat - Brooke Bolander
Once upon a time, long, long, long, long, long, long, ago, there were three raptor sisters, hatched beneath a lucky star. They lived in a wood together, they stole sheep and cattle together, and all in all, there was no tighter-knit hunting pride of matriarchal dromaeosauridae between the mountains and the sea.
'fiction  -profic  @brookebolander  $gen  "dinosaurs  :2k-10k 
10 weeks ago by sophia_sol
"-Good." - Sunyi Dean
He says, “But I’m dying,” like it’s the answer to everything, like he thinks I’ll disagree.

He says it like I’ve forgotten, but how could I forget sitting in that paper-strewn office a week ago, watching dust layer up with sunbeams while a doctor dressed in immaculate professionalism emphasised the words six months to live?
short but does a lot with the space it has!
'fiction  -profic  $het  @sunyidean  :500-2k  via:sophia_sol 
11 weeks ago by sentientcitizen
"-Good." - Sunyi Dean
He says, “But I’m dying,” like it’s the answer to everything, like he thinks I’ll disagree.

He says it like I’ve forgotten, but how could I forget sitting in that paper-strewn office a week ago, watching dust layer up with sunbeams while a doctor dressed in immaculate professionalism emphasised the words six months to live?

short but does a lot with the space it has!
'fiction  -profic  $het  @sunyidean  :500-2k 
11 weeks ago by sophia_sol
Strange Waters - Samantha Mills
Fisherwoman Mika Sandrigal was lost at sea. She knew where she was in relation to the Candorrean coastline and how to navigate back to her home city, Maelstrom. She knew the time of day. She knew the season. She knew the phase of the moon and the pattern of the tide.

She did not know the year.
'fiction  -profic  ^feelings  "family  "waterrelatedstuff  :2k-10k  @samanthamills  via:sophia_sol 
12 weeks ago by sentientcitizen
An Account of the Madness of the Magistrate, Chengdhu Village - Richard Parks
Mei Li, the former snake-devil my father and I were training to be human, had agreed to teach me her trick of transforming a simple flute into various weapons, but so far the lessons were not going well. I didn’t want to risk my own precious bawu on such a tricky undertaking, as the instrument had been a gift from my late mother. We were making do with a wooden dowel of similar size, and the latest result sat on a small cushion between us.
'fiction  -profic  $gen  :2k-10k  @richardparks  via:sophia_sol 
12 weeks ago by sentientcitizen
The Thought That Counts - K.J. Parker
“Funny you should say that,” I said. “I’m interested in paint.”

“Painting.”

“Paint,” I said. “I dabble a bit in alchemy, and I reckon it might be possible to make synthetic blue. Instead of having to grind up ruinously expensive lapis lazulae in a pestle and mortar.” She didn’t say anything, so I went on: “There’s definitely a demand for it. A genuine deep royal blue at a fraction of the price. A man could make a nice little bit of money that way.”

“I’ve never used blue.”

“Too expensive?”

She nodded. “That’s why I started doing portraits, you don’t have to have any sky.”
'fiction  -profic  $het  ^interesting  :2k-10k  @kjparker  via:sophia_sol 
12 weeks ago by sentientcitizen
Trette’s Bones - Grace Seybold
When Trette was thirty, she gave her skull to the Ossuary, which was exactly the sort of thing she would do. I’m not angry—no, yes, I’m angry about it, but I want to tell it all, how it went. I don’t know who I want to tell, who I’m writing this for. For memory, I guess. For ghosts. So: let the ghosts hear.

She was always showy. Everything she did, she had to go just that bit farther than anyone else. Even the first time she gave to the town, it was like that. We were born twins and made our bone-pledge together, with the rest of our cohort, the summer we were fifteen. We talked about it for months beforehand, of course, the same as everybody.
'fiction  -profic  $gen  :2k-10k  @graceseybold  via:sophia_sol 
12 weeks ago by sentientcitizen
Romeo, Revisited - Rebecca Fraimow
Wherefore art thou, Romeo?
New York Magazine
March 13, 2045

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: yes, in Broadway’s latest iteration of Romeo and Juliet, Romeo is an alien. And no, that doesn’t necessarily make it worth the ticket price.
'fiction  -profic  "theatre  "unusualformat  ^interesting  :2k-10k  $gen  @rebeccafraimow  via:sophia_sol 
12 weeks ago by sentientcitizen
Strange Waters - Samantha Mills
Fisherwoman Mika Sandrigal was lost at sea. She knew where she was in relation to the Candorrean coastline and how to navigate back to her home city, Maelstrom. She knew the time of day. She knew the season. She knew the phase of the moon and the pattern of the tide.

She did not know the year.
'fiction  -profic  ^feelings  "family  "waterrelatedstuff  :2k-10k  @samanthamills 
12 weeks ago by sophia_sol
An Account of the Madness of the Magistrate, Chengdhu Village - Richard Parks
Mei Li, the former snake-devil my father and I were training to be human, had agreed to teach me her trick of transforming a simple flute into various weapons, but so far the lessons were not going well. I didn’t want to risk my own precious bawu on such a tricky undertaking, as the instrument had been a gift from my late mother. We were making do with a wooden dowel of similar size, and the latest result sat on a small cushion between us.
'fiction  -profic  $gen  :2k-10k  @richardparks 
12 weeks ago by sophia_sol
The Thought That Counts - K.J. Parker
“Funny you should say that,” I said. “I’m interested in paint.”

“Painting.”

“Paint,” I said. “I dabble a bit in alchemy, and I reckon it might be possible to make synthetic blue. Instead of having to grind up ruinously expensive lapis lazulae in a pestle and mortar.” She didn’t say anything, so I went on: “There’s definitely a demand for it. A genuine deep royal blue at a fraction of the price. A man could make a nice little bit of money that way.”

“I’ve never used blue.”

“Too expensive?”

She nodded. “That’s why I started doing portraits, you don’t have to have any sky.”
'fiction  -profic  $het  ^interesting  :2k-10k  @kjparker 
12 weeks ago by sophia_sol
Fireskin - Joanne Rixon
In late summer of the fourteenth year of the reign of Fei-hu the Road-Builder, on a day when the portents suggested peace and prosperity throughout the city and all its territories, the warrior Aun-ki woke up and found that her skin caught fire at the slightest touch. Pale flickers of flame sprouted on her brown arms, almost invisible in the sunlight, then guttered out. Even the light drape of her dressing gown across her shoulders was like the grind of a blade on a whetstone, striking sparks. The fabric browned, and when her apprentice Jin-ho came in to help her bathe, Jin-ho’s fingers left streams of blisters in their wake.
'fiction  -profic  $femslash  @joannerixon  :2k-10k 
12 weeks ago by sophia_sol
Trette’s Bones - Grace Seybold
When Trette was thirty, she gave her skull to the Ossuary, which was exactly the sort of thing she would do. I’m not angry—no, yes, I’m angry about it, but I want to tell it all, how it went. I don’t know who I want to tell, who I’m writing this for. For memory, I guess. For ghosts. So: let the ghosts hear.

She was always showy. Everything she did, she had to go just that bit farther than anyone else. Even the first time she gave to the town, it was like that. We were born twins and made our bone-pledge together, with the rest of our cohort, the summer we were fifteen. We talked about it for months beforehand, of course, the same as everybody.
'fiction  -profic  $gen  :2k-10k  @graceseybold 
12 weeks ago by sophia_sol
Jamaica Ginger - Nalo Hopkinson & Nisi Shawl
“Damn and blast it!”

Plaquette let herself in through the showroom door of the watchmaker’s that morning to hear Msieur blistering the air of his shop with his swearing. The hulking clockwork man he’d been working on was high-stepping around the workroom floor in a clumsy lurch. It lifted its knees comically high, its body listing to one side and its feet coming down in the wrong order; toe, then heel. Billy Sumach, who delivered supplies to Msieur, was in the workroom. Through the open doorway he threw her a merry glance with his pretty brown eyes, but he had better sense than to laugh at Msieur’s handiwork with Msieur in the room.

Msieur glared at Plaquette. “You’re late. That’s coming off your pay.”

Plaquette winced. Their family needed every cent of her earnings, but she’d had to wait home till Ma got back from the railroad to take over minding Pa.
'fiction  -profic  @nalohopkinson  @nisishawl  :2k-10k  $gen  via:sophia_sol 
12 weeks ago by sentientcitizen
Brightened Star, Ascending Dawn - A. Merc Rustad
When the reconstruction is finished, her body has no face, only the smooth mechanized visor embedded in her skull that displays readouts and commands. She is now, and will forever be, the spaceship Brightened Star, Ascending Dawn.

She is contained within three-dimensional space and the hardened matter of her hull and engines, yet she recalls that glorious first flight of mind like a grainy analogue recording. Her former body is human and is now installed in the pilot’s chair.

(She almost remembers the eyes of her mother—gray like comet dust—until her programming gains full processing speed and there is only the ship.)

She is the ship, and the ship is all.
'fiction  -profic  $gen  "ai  @amercrustad  :2k-10k  via:sophia_sol 
12 weeks ago by sentientcitizen

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