#friday snippets

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Friday

It's Black Friday and I refuse to leave the house. Here, take my incredibly and unrepentantly self-indulgent Eldritch Damas au.

Premise: Damas death scene but close to a light eco vent and Jak tries to heal him.

Well Tumblr won't let me fix the formatting it donked up, guys, so there's a copy of this post that's actually readable on dark theme up now.

Damas has never been exposed to that much at once, unfiltered. Jak can't control how much he's channeling from the vent, he's too distraught. And he ends up changing Damas in the way the Dark Warrior Program changed him.

Damas can't control the light eco transformation. He looks like some kind of ascended being, trapped in a more powerful form and unable to utilize his new powers in a way that would deplete the eco and let him de-transform. 

Do people consider him dead? A changeling? A Precursor-king? Jak would feel so guilty, having put this on Damas's shoulders without him having a say in it.

_____________________________________________________

He's guilt stricken, he's horrified, he's so sorry, Damas please- 

He doesn't know he's Damas's son, Damas doesn't know he was always Jak's father and not just recently his father. 

Jak thinks of the Arena, thinks he knows what Damas's wrath looks like (he doesn't, he's seen only the strongest commingling of worry and frustration) 

His war amulet feels meaningless. He has betrayed his leader, after all. The one ruler he chose to serve willingly. The only adult in his life to see his darkness and embrace it as simply part of him. And look what Jak's done to him. He thinks he deserves what is surely coming, but he's still just a boy and he can't help pleading for forgiveness. 

And Damas sees a child, stripped of his tough protective shell, terrified beyond words -- is he so horrible to look upon? -- pleading incoherently for either forgiveness or mercy, he can't tell which. Tears stream down his face, making him look disturbingly young.

"I didn't mean to- I didn't mean to, Damas, please-! Please forgive me! I-I-I lost control of it, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" 

Jak doesn't beg. Jak never pleads. 

This is profoundly wrong and he knows this in his heart although he cannot quite fathom the depths of the wrongness he feels. He only recognizes that he does not want this boy to kneel before him. He has never been so formal before, it feels unnatural for him to be so now. 

(Veger arrives late, does not recognize the cosmic horror as the king he willingly betrayed. He sees the dark eco freak humbled, on his knees before what he believes is a Precursor. He thinks that at last the thorn in his side will be struck down) 

This is it! At last! Veger thinks 

And then this thing that was their king bends 

Jak grieves, believing Damas no longer knows him; he wonders if this is worse than Damas being angry. Everything they've been through, every memory, just gone? As beyond reach as Jak’s own childhood? And he did this to him.

- this is it. I won't fight him, Jak thinks -

And the great tendrils of its -- his -- wings wrap around Jak. On that too calm face, artificially peaceful, something quizzical appears in the tilt of a mouth swirling with stars. Wings draw close around them, dragging Jak up to collide with a broad chest thrumming with energy both alien and familiar. Light eco begins to seep into Jak, whispering beneath his thoughts "ours, ours, ours"

He traces a glowing hand along Jak's cheek, cocks his head and twists Jak's face back and forth with an innocently curious expression as though he's never seen him before. 

Something sparks in Damas's eyes, some thought or impulse, and he seizes Jak by the upper arms. The words that pour from his mouth are ancient, a dialect lost long ago to all but the monks and those who once called Sandover their home.

"Mine…? You are! You are mine.” 

It is a declaration, a discovery. A revelation. A promise. 

With a flick of his wrists, he sends Jak tumbling into the light eco vent. Light flares and Jak transforms with a choked cry. Daxter panics, but he can't get past Damas's wings to get to his best friend. He watches Jak stand on shaky legs, wings curled tightly around himself as though he is trying to hide. Hide from his shame, hide from his friend, hide from his king. Light eco usually calms him, soothes his nerves, but not this time. It is frenzied, yet it is rejoicing, singing through his veins like a homecoming and Jak is left disoriented. Dazed. 

Ours, ours, ours-! 

Unnaturally strong hands lift him up under the arms, leave his feet dangling like a child's. Jak doesn't remember ever being held like this, outside of the secondhand memories of holding his own childhood self. When he finally works up his courage and looks into the Precursor King's eyes, looking through the filter of light eco himself, there is no anger. Neither is there a lack of recognition. Damas still knows him, that's becoming obvious. Jak looks into his eyes and sees pain and acceptance and a naked, boundless joy. 

And Jak is so stunned that he forgets in that moment that he was trying to hide. He almost forgets why he feels squirming guilt -- albeit muted -- under his skin. He knew that Damas liked him. That Damas was comfortable expressing pride in him, even in front of the whole Arena. This is something else. Something Jak has never been bold enough to hope for outside of his own lonely imaginings: that Damas might see him with a kind of fatherly affection. That the closest thing he had to a real father figure might see him as a son as well. 

"Child,"

Damas echoes, proud and warm and earthshaking,

"My child." 

And what Veger sees, what he thinks he sees, is the child he ripped away from Damas, the tainted heir, receiving the blessing that should have been his: to ascend to Precursorhood. Welcomed into this evolved form as though the dark eco meant nothing. 

He can't fathom it. 

His worldview is cracking at the edges. 

Oblivious to his crisis, Damas -- now closer in nature to his ancestors than he knows -- is content. This is his child. His. The eco in their blood harmonizes, dark with light, in one melody. He knows this weary warrior. He knows the blood that flows in his veins. His subject, his best warrior, his impudent rascal, his Jak: his son. 

Vaguely he knows there's something they were supposed to do, something quite important. But it doesn't seem as important as stopping time just so that he can hold his child in his arms again. 

Jak would like to get down, he really would. His wings flail in an ultimately futile bid for freedom. He has a world to save. But Damas won't let him go. He's smiling -- it's a relief, but the guilt still eats at him and he doesn't understand, what is the eco doin? Why is it harmonizing? Does the light eco in Damas recognize his own eco? Is that why he's calling him "My own. My little one."? 

Jak has had enough experience with the Light Form that the Precurian instincts don't overwhelm him, and he still thinks on a very human level. But Damas doesn't know how to separate human instincts from Precurian instincts. They're all one to him. 

His memories run against the swell of light and life and love and absolute otherworldliness coursing through him, too strong to control.

"Why aren't you angry?" Jak whispers as he tries to find somewhere for all that light eco to go. 

Tendrils of living eco brush across his cheek in a loving caress and lift his chin. Jak finds himself leaning into the touch without thinking as he watches the stars shift and swirl across Damas's face. This Light Form of Damas croons comfortingly, a subsonic rumble that is both calming and Alarming to Daxter and even Veger as they watch.

"Angry?" The word lilts oddly in the old language. "Why, little one?"

"I...I did this to you! You didn't choose this!"

"But now I am neither dead nor dying. And I know who you are." 

Jak twists up his face in confusion, refracting light across his cheeks. 

He's not afraid, but he's hesitant to ask. "Who...who am I?" 

"My son." 

[hislittleraincloud]

Didn't even know it was Friday until I checked FB, so Friday Snippets:

I can't give out any of the Wyler/8 stuff bc it gives away too much. 💀 But Tyler is getting to know Wednesday a little more than he'd like to.

[vaperarmand]

my friend rashid: a fic rec list

welcome back to iwtv fanfic friday! this week's theme was born out of my love for rashidmand, but of course i couldn't stop there, so i've included some featuring real rashid as well. on that note, if you're looking for a sign to write a fic featuring real rashid or rashidmand, THIS IS IT.

drawing in a subject by nestorius (e, 1.7k words)

Armand interrupts. (immediately post season one reveal, teensy bit character study, daniel's "inexplicable" desire for rashid. made for me in a lab)

a memo from human resources by nestorius (not rated, 2.5k words)

The pitfalls of having a vampire boss. (the real rashid prelude to above. his relationship with louis in this drives me wild. i still believe this is rashid's lore and you can't stop me.)

Live your role by Thunder__Puss (e, 1.5k words)

Louis and Armand bed down in the penthouse. Rashid overhears a bit more than he'd care to. (ARMAND PLAYING RASHID IN BED WITH LOUIS ... THIS IS WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF)

honey and pineapple by duri (e, 3.5k words)

Rashid pays Daniel a visit. (hey girls did you know that uhmmmmm... armand wants daniel so bad. like OH MY GOD)

I like your getup, if you know what I mean by cannibalenthusiast (aka yours truly) (e, 1.7k words)

His brain conjures the image of Rashid standing primly with a plush towel draped over his slim wrist. “For your jizz, Mister Molloy,” he says. Daniel snorts and spits onto his hand. (sorry to be reccing my own work but it was my first one for the pairing and i'm proud of it ok? daniel jerks off thinking of rashidmand and rashidmand sort of unknowingly provides a helping hand. it's important to me)

Taking All That A Person Can Give by anonymous (e, 6k words)

Daniel fantasizes about "Rashid". Set during and after 1x05. (mind the tags on this one! daniel and armand both get tortured. sexually. awesome crazy work.)

honeysuckle sips from your rolling hips by ultraviolet_glow aka @lesbians4armand (m, 1.4k words)

It was the viscosity that got to him, Daniel thought. Something deeply obscene, sensual about the viscosity of honey compared to the viscosity of blood. Both were natural, bodily fluids, if you thought too hard about it. Thick and dripping and sweet. (YAAAAY more wet dreams for daniel!!! this is just one of many awesome rashidmand fics violet has written <3)

honey and pineapple by softestbutch aka @softest-butch (e, 1.8k words)

He’s thinking of you, Rashid. Louis felt Armand’s body flush at the use of the name. He ran the flat of his tongue over the wound in his neck, continuing to drink. Our boy. He wants you. (awesomeeee take on the 1.5 scene with a little bit of loumand as well. i can never get enough)

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

another snippet of the barbecue fic (aka another snippet of buck being horny for his boyfriend lmao I swear this is a wholesome fluffy family fic haha), this is my priority now, I wanna finish it soon so send all the motivation haha <3

prev snippet

___

“Behave.” He scolds with no heat behind it.

“Mhm, yessir.” Buck purrs, his lips moving across Tommy’s bare shoulder. 

“Fuck.” Tommy breathes out and completely stills, and Buck can’t really see his face but he knows his boyfriend closed his eyes and is trying to calm down – which can’t be easy with Buck still plastered against his back. “This food is gonna burn if you keep this up. And we have guests to feed.” He adds, and as if to make a point, he flips a slightly overdone burger, Buck hindering his movements just a little bit.

Before he can respond, he hears another voice get through the chatter and music and reach his ears.

“Buck!” Chimney calls, and Buck looks over his shoulder to find everyone’s eyes on him, amused expressions on their faces. “Don’t distract our cook, we’re starving!”

“I’m just scolding him for taking his shirt off.” Buck says easily, then adds a little louder, to Tommy but making sure everyone hears, “Babe, you’re gonna burn yourself, you’re a firefighter, you should know better.” He shakes his head, and Tommy looks back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, you’re gonna pretend like you don’t approve?”

“Oh, I so don’t, Tommy, at all.” Buck tries to keep a straight face, but a chuckle bubbles out of him anyway. “You’re such a distraction, this is dangerous for everyone here.”

“I think you’re the only one with that problem, Buckaroo.” Hen laughs, and only then Buck remembers everyone’s still paying attention to them. It’s so easy to get lost in Tommy, to feel like it’s just them, even in a crowd of people. So distracting. It’s a hazard, really. He should keep Tommy away from everyone, preferably locked in the bedroom with him, for everyone’s safety.

___

no pressure tags (lmk if you wanna be added or removed):

@dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @rainbow-nerdss @pirrusstuff @bucks-daddy-issues @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @kinard-buckley @evansboyfriend @beyourownanchor6 @weewootruck @kirkaut @jewishbuckley @loveyouanyway @daffi-990 @lonelychicago @bibuckkinard @spotsandsocks @bucked-it-up @theotherbuckley @drcloyd @bidisasterevankinard @hippolotamus @girlwonder-writes @perfectlysunny02 @dadbodbuck @kinkleydiaz @diazsdimples @aringofsalt

[bigfootsmom]

Fuck it Friday

Tagged by the lovely and talented @tizniz, @smallandalmosthonest, @bidisasterevankinard, @eddiebabygirldiaz , @loserdiaz,

@loveyouanyway <3 <3 <3

Some more from girls dad’s bucktommy fic. bobby holds Annie for the first time…I’m sorry.

“Her name is Annie Bobby Kinard.”

“Oh.”

Bobby stumbles, the world tilting under his feet, the only thing keeping him grounded is the warm weight in his arms.

The back of his knees meet the chair at the side of the bed and Bobby sits down heavily. His chest is tight, his face hot, the heat bleeding into his cheeks, down his throat, into his nose and behind his eyes where it prickles with the threat of tears.

“O-oh,” he croaks out again.

He sucks in a great gulping breath, but it catches, hitching in the back of his throat. His chin trembles. He tries again, the wet rasp of his inhale echoing in his ears, but his exhalation comes too fast, too loud. It explodes from his chest with a sob, the force of it cracking his ribs open and letting his heart spill out into the small bundle in his arms.

He cries. Big, loud sobs that wrack his entire frame as he bows his head and presses it into the soft folds of Annie’s blanket and breathes in the new scent of her through his clogged nose. His tears are soaking into the fabric and he wants to apologize, but nothing leaves his mouth except for another wretched sob.

Bobby never thought he would have this— he thought he had killed all his chances to be a grandfather. And with Buck— with Buck he never dared to hope. He never allowed himself the thought that he was as much of a father to Buck as Buck was a son to him. He didn’t let himself imagine it, didn’t think he deserved to stake that claim even in the privacy of his own mind.

Tags <3

@usersiren, @swiftietartt, @honestlydarkprincess, @holdmygum, @morganofthefairies

@boykisserbuckley, @princessfbi, @homerforsure, @mellaithwen, @bisexual-buck

@devirnis, @monsterrae1, @underwaterninja13, @father-salmon, @giddyupbuck

@watchyourbuck, @shyaudacity, @housewifebuck, @colonoscopys, @try-set-me-on-fire

@shortsighted-owl, @maygrantgf, @buddie-buddie, @bibuddie, and YOU if you want to post something <3

[nekoning]

two mimir...(after a nightmare he still watches over)

[theplantbish]

🗣️MÄ ALOIN MYYMÄÄN SEKSII KU SEKSI MYY🗣️

[bodhrancomedy]

Every Friday I do a snippet. This is next Friday’s choice!

Last Friday’s Winner!

A Doomed Company of Squires

The dust choked her in the aftermath of the hail of ice and stone, cobweb-threads of grass tangling in her eyelashes.

Ezrah raised her hand as if she could bat away the remains of a mountain by will alone, blinking away the emerald aftershock of her master’s spell.

The sun had returned, and the monsters were dead.

But, as her vision sharpened and she pushed herself up on shaking limbs, Ezrah saw that the last screamed warning from her fellow squire had been terribly, horrible prophetic.

“It ’s too unstable!”

Nobody had moved, but she was now alone.

[gemharvest]

(id in alt - do not repost)

damned to the end from the start; we can't really help who we are

[sibylsleaves]

fuck it friday

tagged by @exhuastedpigeon @gayhoediaz @messyhairdiaz @eddiebabygirldiaz

more from a Five Alarm Fest fic...but which one 🤔??

So far, Buck’s plan is going off without a hitch.  It’s a lazy, weekend night, just the two of them at the Diaz house, Chris having gone out with friends to eat his weight in chicken wings and see the new Ghostbusters movie—the kind of teenage outing that’s becoming more and more common these days. Despite his aversion to LA’s Friday night crowds, Eddie had offered to take Buck out to the Peruvian place in Buck’s been wanting to try, but Buck had demurred. “Let’s just stay in,” he’d said. “I wanna try out that tajin chicken recipe Karen sent me last week, and we can finish the Michael Jordan series.” “Jesus,” Eddie replied, playing with the fingers of Buck’s left hand, smiling that sweet, smitten smile that Buck’s been the preening recipient of more times than he cant count in the past few months. “Are we officially old and boring like Chris says?” “Pretty sure we hit that milestone a while ago,” Buck replied, equally embarrassingly smitten. There’s no one he’d rather be old and boring with than Eddie. Now, after a recipe trial deemed a triumphant success and half an episode of The Last Dance, Buck’s got Eddie right where he wants him—on the couch, underneath him, while Buck sucks a messy hickey onto the side of his neck. They’ve both already lost their shirts, tossed unceremoniously behind the couch. “Maybe,” Eddie murmurs between deep, sloppy kisses, “we should think about moving this to the bedroom.” Buck hums in agreement, rolling his hips lazily in Eddie’s lap and cradling Eddie’s face between his hands as he sinks into another deep kiss. Eddie’s own hands are busy roaming over the bare expanse of Buck’s chest, over his shoulder blades, down his back. One hand ventures further, dipping under the elastic of Buck’s sweatpants to grab a handful of buttcheek and— Freezes there. Buck grins against Eddie’s jaw as Eddie goes completely taut and still on the couch.  “Buck,” Eddie breathes after a moment. “Are you wearing��?” Buck nips at Eddie’s slack mouth and says coyly, “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

tagging @burnthatbridge @glorious-spoon @littlespoonevan @housewifebuck @transboybuckley

@shitouttabuck @smallandalmosthonest @homerforsure @clusterbuck @devirnis

[xxnashiraxx]

Friday Snippet/WIP Whenever

I like it when he's a creepy undead creature ❤🦇🩸

Felt like updating again! I'm now working on Chapter 11- on a roll!

WARNING: Just a bit bloody?

She does the only thing she can think of to shut him up and slashes down the center of her forearm, wincing from the pain as a river of red gushes from the cut and runs down her angled arm into her palm. “Nice warning,” He mutters, nostrils flared and eyes that pretty, bright crimson. His fangs are digging into his lower lip and he looks like he’s fighting an invisible battle as he tilts the cup and lets her dangle her hand over it. Drip. Drop. He paints a vivid picture of the undead- menacing and frozen. The uncanny pale of his skin and the way his chest remains still, free of breath, makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. There’s a soft wheezing noise and she’s drawn back to the way his pupils unnaturally fluctuate, jaw shifting back and forth unconsciously. “Astarion… are you breathing?” He startles and looks up at her, gasping around an inhale as it creaks through his hollow lungs. “I wasn’t… can’t, really… it smells too strong.” She nods, pitying his state, as her blood slowly starts to fill the chalice. A bright idea flashes through her mind, too fast to catch up to logical thinking, and she quickly anchors the razor between her teeth before breathing deeply and swiping the sharp edge against her thumb. He watches intently, every muscle taught, but she squeezes the flesh until blood seeps out of the cut. “Open up,” He obeys, lips parting as scarlet fluid starts to weep from the wound and drip onto his tongue. A full-body shiver runs down his limbs, his dark lashes fluttering shut over his cheeks. Hers burn at the way he swallows, his hands trembling and his chest finally beginning to rise and fall. His free one comes up, presses her thumb to his mouth, and gently licks until the bleeding stops. It lights some kind of forbidden, hungry feeling inside her, and she makes a muffled whine of frustration before he brings the cup to his lips and drinks.

Tagging you all again if you've got more fun stuff to share! 🖤

@verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @khywren @preciouslittlebhaalbae @ladyduellist @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @pinkberrytea @kalmiaphlox @roguishcat @sashitf @bhaalsdeepbat

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @bidisasterevankinard @tizniz 💖

im still on vacation, but wrote a little bit of a new wip in a notebook lmao and just wanted to share a lil bit haha

this has been on my ideas list forever, but basically, Tommy calls Buck "buck" and Buck gets upset about it - that's the fic lol its handwritten in a notebook and typing it out on my phone rn so it's like a very rough first draft, im gonna make it better when I type it out on my laptop haha

____

As Tommy talks, he's constantly stealing glances at Buck, and this time when he does, he frowns, instantly noticing that something's wrong.

He finishes the story rather quickly, and as everyone moves on to other topics, he says something about going to get more drinks, and grabs Buck's hand to bring him with. As soon as they're a safe distance away from their friends, Tommy crowds Buck against a wall, these blue, concerned eyes boring into his soul.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asks, and Buck feels silly. It's such a stupid thing to get upset about and make his boyfriend worry for no reason.

"Nothing," Buck shakes his head. "It's stupid."

"Well, it's still clearly something. And you know you can tell me anything that's bothering you. Even if you think it's stupid." He's looking at Buck with that fondness that always melts Buck's heart a little.

"It's just..." Buck takes a deep breath, bracing himself for saying the silliest thing to get upset about. "You called me Buck." He admits, averting his gaze, and trying to ignore how whiny his voice sounds.

___

no pressure tags (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @bucks-daddy-issues @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @kinard-buckley @evansboyfriend @hoodie-buck @weewootruck @41noodlesoups @kirkaut @jewishbuckley @loveyouanyway @daffi-990 @lonelychicago @reformedplayerbibuck @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @bucked-it-up @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @drcloyd

[ksbbb]

Fuck it Friday

Tagged by @hemlocksandfoxgloves

Paint the Town Red🩸

“He’s angry. Has a bit of a temper.” Nolan comments, trying to sound helpful and giving as much insight as he can.

“He’s a werewolf though?” Theo sounds so damn ridiculous. He has to ask but he hates appearing like he’s clueless.

“He wasn’t a werewolf then. I can only imagine he’s a new type of monster.” Mason retorts, the pain in his eyes evident, and——-ah. There it is.

Mason misses his little childhood friend.

“He’s quite an interesting guy.” Theo smirks, happy to be gaining some progress with them and loving the details they’re divulging.

“I don’t know what you’re planning, but save it. You’ll only be beaten by Scott again.” Mason ruefully smiles, and he slams the door, locking it behind him.

Theo’s not planning anything this time. He’s bored and he needs the leg up to get some quiet. Even with nothing planned, he’s still always watching his back, fearing the worst, and waiting to be sent back to hell.

It’s fine. Not really, but maybe it never was, because when he turns to head back to his truck, Liam’s in it. He’s staring back at him and calmly licking his lips.

Tagging @wolfboy88 @thiamsxbitch @mmoosen @maplesyrizzup @honestlydarkprincess @theoceanismyinkwell @chasing-chimeras

[enjoythesilentworld]

Sunday Snippet

just if for a minute, chapter 7: raindrops ... it's time for a bachelor party 💜

Their friends disperse quickly, most heading off toward the dance floor. Wille and Simon stay near the booth, arms still wrapped around each other.

“Hey,” Simon says, tilting his head up to look at Wille. He has a special, sparkly look in his eye, even more accentuated by the dark eyeliner, and it makes Wille’s stomach flutter.

He smiles back, “Hey,” and fights the urge to pull Simon even closer.

Simon's soft smile never drops, but he does hesitate, gazing up at Wille, eyes searching, until eventually he blurts, “Can I ask you something?”

If Wille hadn’t had a few shots at the hotel, and if he wasn’t already a little distracted by the noise and the lights and the proximity of Simon, that question probably would have scared the shit out of him. But here, now, Wille only feels a distant, far away part of his brain setting off alarm bells. The current, functioning part of his brain can only think Simon, so Wille simply nods.

Simon sets down his still full glass of champagne on the small table, then interlaces his fingers behind Wille’s neck. Wille’s hands find Simon’s waist, because that’s where they’re meant to be.

“Can we forget it all?” Simon asks, so softly that if Wille hadn’t been staring so intensely, he might’ve missed it. “Just for a minute? Just for tonight?”

The alarm bells ring even louder in Wille’s head. No. Dangerous. Turn around, go back now. Except, Wille can’t hear them. All he can hear is pounding bass, all he can see is Simon’s pretty face, occasionally lit up by a passing spotlight. His eyes are almost pleading, begging Wille to just say yes, just this one time.

So, he does. Wille smiles and nods, and feels warmth grow in his chest as Simon nods, too, giggling with relief and somehow looking even more beautiful than he had just a second ago.

Simon pulls away and offers his hand, and Wille takes it, letting himself be pulled into the crowd, because he has no choice and because there’s nowhere else he’d like to be.

[coolnonsenseworld]

Northern Lights 🌌

All pieces in the Calendar, (which you can pre-order right now in the shops), are inspired by DanceAU. DanceAU is the sappiest fluffiest story I ever started and I planned these pieces to be their Bucket List kind of year. A challenge of self care and growth per month so to speak.

I did not finish DanceAU. If I did, it’d probably have an actual name, instead of being “DanceAU”☠️ so if you want to see fragments and pieces for it, they are only available in the PDFs with Patreon content (also available in the shop), as of this day. I do want to finish it though and I'm making time for it, but being unfinished, won't stop me from making post-plot stories, even if I can’t call them canon per se - just an imaginary year they could go through, and to inspire your own year to be joyful each month!

January's goal was supposed to be more of Lance's wish - Keith isn't much into cold. He loses heat quickly and likes wearing big hoodies even in the slightest draft. But it's not like he hates it completely, in fact, it gets him warm cuddles whenever he asks for them, cups of warm tea and cocoa, and sometimes the chill can be pleasant too if there is nothing else to do - so he'd agree to a trip up north, to taste a little bit of wintery life. Cold still makes him feel like it's hibernation time, but Lance's upbeat humor about the smallest things (spying on birds which came to the feeder, staring at the snow like it's curing his depression, helping random people push their car out of the snowbank) and fascination with freezing his ass off to see Northern Lights - would make him consider this time well spent.

[punkshort]

I feel like sharing a little snippet of an upcoming series Evergreen because I wrote a bunch of chapter one yesterday and it's got me feeling sad for the old man - the angst will be angsting

When he passed by the food court, he saw a few solitary older men sipping coffee and reading the paper or people watching. Joel huffed under his breath, wondering who on earth would come to the mall just to read a paper but then he realized he was no better. Was he going to become just like them one day? Would he come to the mall to nurse a coffee just so he wouldn't feel so alone? The thought had his throat closing up. He paused and leaned against a railing overlooking the bottom floor of the mall, pretending to be looking for someone when in reality he was struggling to breathe. His heart was fluttering too fast in his chest and his vision was narrowing. "Shit," he whispered to himself, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus on taking deep breaths. It was like reality crashed down around him all at once: Sarah was moved out of the house. Tommy was happily married. And he was going to die all alone.