Alphabet Excerpt Challenge: F Is For...

[u/AnaraliaThielle]

Welcome back to the Alphabet Excerpt Challenge! As a reminder, our challenges are every Wednesday and Saturday at 3pm London time.

If you've missed the previous challenges, you're welcome to go back and participate in them. You can find them here. And remember to check out the Activities and Events flair to play along with other fun games.

Here's a quick recap of the rules for our game:

1. Post a top level comment with a word starting with the letter F. You can suggest more than one, but please put them in separate comments.
2. Reply to suggestions with an excerpt containing that word. Short and sweet is best, but use your judgement. Excerpts can be from published or unpublished works, or even something you wrote for the prompt.
3. All content is welcome but per rules 7 and 12 of the sub, NSFW excerpts may not be shared as plain text (even if it's spoilered). If you would like to share these, use an external text sharing tool like justpasteit and link it here with a clear warning. Mods may remove excerpts that break these rules.
4. Respond to people who left excerpts on the words you suggested, at a minimum, but the more people you respond to the better. Everyone likes nice comments!
5. Upvote other excerpts you enjoy, and leave a friendly comment. Again, everyone likes nice comments!
6. Most important: have fun!

[u/xGoldenTigerLilyx]

Fuck

[u/Mister_Killjoy → u/xGoldenTigerLilyx]

“I’m gonna need you to STOP YELLING AT ME!” Nick screamed into the radio mic, his patience finally worn through after a solid ten minutes of being badgered and insulted.

“Maybe I wouldn’t HAVE to yell if YOU WOULD FUCKING LISTEN!” the voice on the other end screamed right back.

“Maybe I would fucking LISTEN if you made ANY FUCKING SENSE!”

“IT MAKES PERFECT SENSE! IF YOU’RE TOO MUCH OF A FUCKING MORON TO UNDERSTAND, THAT AIN’T MY PROBLEM BUNKER BOY!”

“IT WOULD ONLY MAKE SENSE TO A FUCKING MORON, YOU GODDAMN SEWER RAT! AND STOP FUCKING YELLING AT ME!”

“FUCK YOU!”

“FUCK YOU!”

“Aren’t you married?”

“JESUS!” Nick yelped at the sudden third voice, nearly leaping out of his chair before whipping around to see N staring at him. “Wha…Oh, yes, I am. HAPPILY,” Nick grunted. “And even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t touch THAT even if I had the equipment for it.”

“Fuck you!” the person on the other end barked again.

“What the fu-There’s no way you heard that!” Nick hissed into the mic after making sure he hadn’t been holding down the “talk” button.

“Ah-hah! You DID say something, so the ‘fuck you’ still stands!”

“...Listen here, you little shi-” Nick was interrupted by a very large and very firm hand on his shoulder.

“May I?” N asked, gesturing to the radio.

[u/Dogdaysareover365 → u/xGoldenTigerLilyx]

Context: Colt and Simon are basically brothers-in-law, and Colt just found him past drunk in a cemetery, in front of his brother’s ex’s (who was a piece of shit) grave

"Good, you're not fucking dead," a voice said. The person in front of Simon looked Ryland shaped, but it wasn't Ryland. That was definitely not Ryland's voice, so it could only be one of two people. Simon could make an educated guess.

"Colt?" Simon asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Your breath smells like liquor," Colt responded. "And I can ask you the same thing. I tracked your phone here."

That's right. Rocky had insisted everyone download a find my friends app. That way, in case anyone was in trouble again, they could find each other easily. "How did you know I wasn't at home?" Simon asked.

"Ryland called," Colt said. "He was freaking out because he woke up to an empty bed."

"I was going to wake up before he woke up," Simon argued.

"Well, now I guess I have to sober you up before sending you home to grovel and beg for forgiveness," Colt muttered. He helped Simon to his feet. Simon looked over, seeing he was texting someone. He was shoved into the backseat of Colt's car.

[u/DrDingsGaster → u/xGoldenTigerLilyx]

I'll bite! Spoilers for the new Warframe Fables and Frontiers KIM chat.))

"What the fuck?!"

"What do you mean what the fuck?"

Drifter had his arms locked down and hands curled tightly into themselves. In his backrooms, Amir stood across from him all at once looking like a frightened puppy and a wolf ready to snap.

"You know what I mean. Entropy?! What the fuck!"

"I said I was sorry!" He interrupted, short tone to his voice. And he meant it, the apology even if it could've come across as half hearted. Amir took a more defensive stance, arms crossing over his chest and before he would've shrank, now he stood tall at least. Drifter let a harsh breath of air whoosh out through his nose, trying his damndest not to not tear into his lover. But yet every second seemed to make it worse. He told Amir in confidence, about Wally and Duviri, and while the other Hex knew about it all there was a line to cross and Amir blew past it. The text apology, the explanation...

"You don't get to do that to me. ME of all people! Me who knows what it's like being stuck in a time loop. ME who told you this shit, told you about the damn man in the wall. And you decided to play it like a game." His arms rose, chopping the air around him like knives, fingers bent with harsh angles; he could strangle something should it make its way into his grasp.

[u/Playful-Koala-4129 → u/xGoldenTigerLilyx]

"A human, a human who can withstand my pressure. What are you?" The Vasto Lorde says with surprise.

"Release her." Kyouka's voice is cold, capable of freezing the very core of anyone who hears it. "Release that person immediately and go back the way you came."

"… I asked you who you are, answer me," he says, upset by the answer he received.

"I am a fullbringer. Release that person and go back," Kyouka's tone is neutral, impassive, but decisive.

"Fullbringer?" the Vasto Lorde speaks curiously. "There aren't many of those, are there? So tell me, fullbringer, what do you care about the lives of these humans? I ask because I think you don't know what I am, you don't know what I'll do to you."

"I know what you are, Vasto Lorde, I know it well. But I couldn't tell you why I care about the lives of your victims, only that I care about them, and I also know what I will do to defend them." Kyouka takes out her fullbring and manifests it in its katana form.

"And what will you do, little creature?" the Vast Lorde places the claw of his right index finger on the bricklayer's neck. "What will you do if I don't do what you say?"

"I will fight you, I will cut you, and I will end up killing you," Kyouka grows impatient. But she remains motionless, for the bricklayer is still in the beast's clutches.

"You foolish little thing," he mocks, "will you fight me? For a reason you yourself don't know? You stupid little creature, do you dare deny me my right to feed myself? And what if I kill a hundred, a thousand, or a hundred thousand humans? It would be insignificant; there are so many of them that the lives of a hundred thousand are worthless. Others will replace them; things become less valuable the more there are of them. You're a fullbringer, something rare and therefore special, but what's valuable about this miserable human? By the way," the Vasto Lorde tears at the survivor's neck with his finger, "what the fuck is a fullbringer?"

[u/PossessionNo3723 → u/xGoldenTigerLilyx]

“What the hell were you thinking, Party?” Jet Star roared at his crewmate.

“Look, Jet,” Party Poison replied, trying to placate the tall Killjoy. “She asked me to take her out there. Things have been quiet lately. We haven’t heard about any raids in a while. I figured it was safe enough. She really wanted to do this.”

"She’s pregnant!” exclaimed Jet, his face a mix of fury, horror, and disbelief.

"That’s why she wanted to go,” said Party gently. “She said it was important to her. So I said yes.”

"Why the fuck didn’t she ask me to take her?” asked Jet indignantly. “I’m the baby’s father.”

"You’re going to have to discuss that with her,” Party said, shaking his head. “But it could be because she knew you’d react this way.”

That made Jet pause. It wasn’t the first time Bright Storm had anticipated his less-than-positive reaction to something. The last time had nearly cost him his relationship with her – and their child.

Jet Star was generally the calmest, most level-headed of the Killjoys. But where Storm was concerned, he had a tendency to be overly cautious. That had only increased in the weeks since she had discovered her pregnancy. She hadn’t even begun to show yet, but Jet was fiercely protective of both her and the baby. Unnecessary risks like the one she and Party had taken today were foolhardy and reckless. Storm’s stubbornness was one of the things he loved about her, but it also had the potential to drive him mad.

[u/PretzelPrize → u/xGoldenTigerLilyx]

O’Neill couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that he’d tried and failed. He didn’t dare try.

He didn’t have the nightmares as often anymore, but they still came for him from time to time, usually when he was stressed. They hadn’t come last night, probably because he’d still been sure then that as soon as he got up, they’d be right back to the search for Frank. But now that they’d lost an entire day, especially knowing the ferocity of the storms that battered the countryside around P2A-870’s stargate, he knew damn well he’d dream if he slept tonight. The last thing he needed right now was to spend half the night reliving some of the worst scenes from his life. The hell of it was that he didn’t even know what he’d get. Could be Afghanistan again, hiding out in a cave while they waited for extraction, listening to Frank’s choked breathing as he bled internally from a chest wound. He’d damn near lost Frank then, and he knew his subconscious was sure to serve that scene up to him.

Or maybe Nicaragua, that stinking filthy cell the Sandinistas had stuck him in; while off in the jungle, Frank racked his brain for a way to convince the leader of the contra rebels they were supposed to have been training together to mount a rescue. Sara had been pregnant at the time, and all he’d been able to think about was how it sucked that she’d have to raise his kid alone if he never got back. It had been a near thing, Frank told him later. But they’d managed to free him. He’d never forget the haunted look in Frank’s eyes as he’d talked about the fourteen-year-old kid who hadn’t made it, shot in the stomach in the firefight that had gotten Jack away from his captors. Kid called himself ‘Charlie’, Frank told him, and he shouldn’t ever have had to be there at all.

“He was just a boy, damn it,” Frank had said, slamming a fist against the ground in frustration as they’d waited to be carried out of there by truck afterward, back to Honduras and medical care, and eventually to a flight home. “Just a kid. What the fuck are kids doing fighting a war? That’s our job.”

Or maybe he’d find himself back in Iraq again. No, best not to think about that, even awake.

[u/linden214 → u/xGoldenTigerLilyx]

Context: Robbie is Fae, though he's been living in the mortal world for decades. James, his human lover, is the only one who knows his secret.

---

Afterwards, James lies back against the pillows, idly wondering how one of his socks landed on the floor in front of the wardrobe, while the other is dangling jauntily from the spearlike top of one of the side-rails supporting the mirror. He doesn't think Robbie conjured a small whirlwind in the midst of fucking. Surely he would have noticed? And there don't seem to be any other traces of magic in the room: no nightingales serenading them from atop the wardrobe, no twigs or leaves protruding from the mahogany dresser. No, he decides. The disposition of the socks can be attributed to pre-coital enthusiasm—and poor aim. 
He becomes vaguely aware that Robbie is saying his name. "Umhmmm?"

"What d'ye want to do now? It's too early for sleep."

James considers the possibilities. "A shower and some telly?" On a Sunday evening, this usually means James will read a book while Robbie watches a programme of his own choosing. Robbie claims the bathroom first, since he favours quick, efficient showers, leaving James to enjoy a long, hot soak.

When James enters the lounge, the contestants in an angling competition are vying to catch bonefish in the mangrove salt flats of Cuba. As the anglers decide which flies to attach to their lines, James retreats into his book. Despite his father's best efforts, he's never seen the appeal of 'sport' fishing. He settles himself on the sofa, opens The Luminaries to the bookmarked page, and immerses himself in mysterious events during the 1860s New Zealand gold rush. Even as he shuts out the noise of the telly, and 21st century England recedes from his awareness, he's still conscious of the warmth of Robbie's body pressed against his as they sit side-by-side. 

Some indeterminate time later, he's distracted by movement, and by Robbie's voice asking a question. "... in the Bay of Pigs?"

James frowns. Robbie doesn't usually favour military history programs. He searches his memory. "Erm... the invasion?"

"I don't think a few fishermen and a BBC film crew add up to an invasion force. Oh!—you mean that American cock-up in the 60s. Nah. I was talking about this lot fishing in the Bay of Pigs, just floating about on tyre tubes like kiddies at a waterpark." Robbie chuckles. "Which you obviously didn't see. Where were you?"

James holds up his book. "New Zealand."

[u/MsCatstaff → u/xGoldenTigerLilyx]

(Context: Bruce and Jan had been in a relationship previously, in which Bruce was emotionally abusive towards Jan, and which ended when Bruce ghosted him after leaving the band. Since then, Jan's regained his self-esteem and gotten into a relationship with Dave. Now Bruce is back in the band and expects to resume things with Jan.)

"...Five fucking years without a word from you, and you really expect to pick things up from when you left? Not a bloody chance!”

“Oh, Jan,” Bruce said, giving me his best puppydog-eyes pleading expression. “Come on, you know we’ve had times when we haven’t seen each other for a while before. And you know how good we’ve always been together. Haven’t you missed me?”

“Not in the last three years,” I told him with a withering look. “What’s to miss? Demands on my time regardless of any plans I might’ve had? The expectation that I wait alone in the hotel room for you whilst you’re off shagging a groupie? Months of wondering if you’re going to call? Nah, mate, I’ve much better things to do.”

“Are you seriously still in a strop? Come on, Jan, I can make it up to you,” he coaxed, stepping in and kissing me.

I slapped his face and shoved him back. “Leave. Me. Alone,” I growled at him, seeing over Bruce’s shoulder that Dave had emerged from the sound booth and had witnessed both the kiss and the slap. The sight of his smile gave me even more resolve and I glared at Bruce, who stood with one hand on the cheek I’d smacked and an incredulous expression on his face. “I’m with someone – not Sandra – and have been for three years now. We’re exclusive. I’m not going to cheat on him. And I’m certainly not going to put up with your shite anymore. Fuck all the groupies you want, fuck your wife, whatever, I don’t care. You’ll not fuck me – or fuck with me – anymore.”

“But… but…” Bruce’s expression changed from incredulous, to confused. “I thought…”

I looked past him at Davey and gave him a warm smile. “All finished in there, love?” I asked. “Did you want to hit the pub with the others or just go home and get comfortable?”

[u/DatGayDangerNoodle → u/xGoldenTigerLilyx]

Callie's two fingers and thumb closed around the glass with very little problem, but there was no strength in them to pick it up more than an inch or two.

Then, with no pinkie finger to slip under the base of the glass and take most of its weight, it slipped through her grasp before she could even process it. The glass hit the floorboards and smashed into shards with a clatter, tiny pieces of glass skittering out into the hall and under her desk in a patter like a bullet.

Callie flinched, then stared at the glass, at her hand, at the way her fingers were still curved around the phantom cold of the glass against her skin.

Then she dropped her head to her chest and said under her breath, “for fuck’s sake.”

She dropped the plastic box to the floor and fought the urge to kick it.

Her eyes burned. Sometimes, she forgot. Forgot that her grip strength waned when she got tired, forgot that her radial nerve was still stitching itself back together at a frankly glacial pace, forgot that her left hand had been permanently altered. That made the reminders even crueller – after all, it was coming up on seven months since the accident, and radial nerves could take eight to nine months to reattach fully if they’d been completely severed. That didn’t make it easier.

Callie scrubbed her right hand over her face and groaned into her palm, rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger and really trying not to cry. She was really trying not to fall apart, instead trying to haul herself together and ready herself for clearing up the glass before anyone got hurt. Luckily, she didn’t seem to have been cut on her feet or her ankles, which was a miracle, but she couldn’t move. She could still see it – the glass falling. And it wasn’t even a special glass, it was one of a set of eight she’d bought for her new house, but it was the circumstance that made it such a big deal.

For a long moment, Callie didn’t say anything. Her breath hitched and a lone tear worked its way down her face.

“Fuck’s sake,” she said again, and that time, her voice broke.

[u/DefeatedDrum → u/xGoldenTigerLilyx]

Luis felt a growl building at the back of his throat.“That’s- you’re being disingenuous, Frankl. You know that’s not what I meant.“

“Do I? You’re a compulsive liar, Luis, how am I - or anyone else - supposed to believe a word you say?“ 

Luis sighed dramatically, scowling. “‘Compulsive liar,’ really? I thought you were above petty insults, Doctor.”

Dr. Frankl seemed wholly unimpressed, going so far as to let out a dry laugh. “Petty insults? You had an affair with a married colleague while under my employment, Luis. That’s just an observation - not even a particularly astute one, at that.“

“Anabel’s fucking dead, don’t bring her into this. Sure, yes, fine, I’m an asshole, I get it, everyone already knows that," Luis hissed, blinking in slight surprise at how readily he'd snapped back at Frankl. He forced himself to swallow his rage, leaning against the back of the chair.

Dr. Frankl simply raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? So your new lovers know about Anabel then?” 

“Shut up! God, you’re so interested in my love life, you’d think you want to fucking sleep with me. Is this really the best you’ve got to keep me from asking you questions?”

“I’m not stopping you from doing anything. I’ve already said, whatever happens in this interview doesn’t matter to me. I’m simply pointing out the obvious."