#snippet friday

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet Friday Week Two: Blackmail au

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The cheers were deafening. Overwhelming. Too much noise and too many people and-

Jak clamped his hands over his ears and shrank behind Sig.

Ahead of them, Damas carefully navigated a throng of warriors, all of whom seemed to want to slap his back or tousle Mar's hair. Jak didn't like them touching his brother. He wasn't their kid. He wasn't theirs!

"Easy, kiddo," Sig murmured, and wrapped one thick arm around his shoulders. "There's not too many kids in Spargus. Losing Mar hit everybody hard."

There hadn't been too many kids in Sandover, either. But Jak could say with reasonable certainty that no one would've kicked up this much of a fuss if he or Daxter had gone missing.

Well, maybe they would have if it had been Keira. She had a parent to miss her, after all.

Jak swallowed down a prickle of envy. It tasted like anger, and stale bitterness. In Haven, it was easy to look at people there and think of his childhood as ideal in comparison. But Spargus made it clear that Sandover had provided the bare minimum of what a child needed to survive. Necessities, but no true emotional investment. No genuine love.

Mar seemed to be getting as overstimulated as Jak. He grew quiet and subdued, huddled against his father's chest. There was just too much happening.

Damas smiled softly at him and hefted him a little higher in his arms. "I know. You're doing so good, baby. We're almost home."

"Want Dax an' Jakky," Mar signed, beginning to look zoned out.

Damas turned to face Sig and the older boys.

"Jak," he called gently, "Could you come take your brother for a moment? He's asking for you."

It was as much strategic as it was simply responding to Mar's needs.

Jak needed something to ground him, and by the looks of it Daxter was too overwhelmed to help.

Mar needed his older brother to feel a sense of normalcy.

And Damas wanted- needed- to make it known that this older boy was his.

Jak stepped up beside him and held out his arms for Mar. Honestly, Damas had no idea how he could carry his little brother and an ottsel the same approximate weight without a hint of difficulty. Had he always been so strong? Damas pushed away the questions for later and put an arm around Jak’s shoulders -- shielding him from the crowd and silently declaring to the onlookers that the boy was his at the same time.

A buck-toothed child sitting on her parent's shoulders called out in a voice just high-pitched enough to be heard over the crowd, “Who's that guy?” as she pointed at Jak.

Damas smiled in the girl's direction. “This is Jak, my firstborn!” he declared proudly. “We were separated when I was first exiled. My enemies could not find him and so they told me instead that he was dead. Yet here he is, the thorn in Praxis's side he cannot remove!”

The praise set Jak’s teeth on edge. It reminded him too much of hero talk. But at the same time it was an uncomfortably unfamiliar experience. Someone was talking about him to others as if he was proud not of Jak's accomplishments so much as his mere existence.

Jak pulled his eyes away from the crowd to focus on Mar. He could put aside the discomfort of crowds for his brother.

“Hang in there, kid,” he murmured.

Daxter patted Mar's head, almost falling off Jak’s shoulder to do so. “Just try to think of whatcha wanna show us first when we get to your room, okay?”

Mar brightened a little at the suggestion. “Show you my toys!” he decided. “You can play with me?”

Jak hefted him a little higher. “Uh…sure kid.”

As long as his idea of play wasn't “hold on to Jak’s back while he goes Dark and play Flut-Flut Ride" like they did in Haven sometimes. Jak really didn't feel like explaining that to Damas and Sig.

________________________________________

Mar had...a lot.

Just. A lot.

Jak counted six picture books sticking out of a bright red crate in a corner that had been furnished with a stack of pillows and a bucket of blocks. There was a drawer of clothes, long outgrown, with a scant two shirts that still fit. He had toys-!

So many toys!

Jak sat on the floor in something akin to shock as his brother ran back and forth from his cot to deposit things into his arms.

A soft Lurker made of cloth and feathers.

A little leather thing that looked like a bald Flut-Flut.

An old, worn-out teddy-bear with a crude "P" stitched onto its chest.

A rubber ball.

A wooden top with a string on it.

Jak frowned and held up the top, keeping it out of reach of Chopper's curious jaws. "I've never seen one of these with string on it before. What's it for?"

Damas looked up from sorting out the clothes that no longer fit Mar. "Oh. That's a trompo. Loop the end of the string around your finger, then throw the top. If it lands on its point, it spins."

"Huh."

Jak set the other toys to one side. This did not deter Mar, who proceeded to hand them all to Daxter.

"So you...just pull it and throw? Like a grenade?"

Jak took the toy and wrapped one end of the string twice around his middle finger. With a shrug, he flicked his wrist and let go of the trompo. It bounced, only barely glancing the tip to the floor, and rolled away. Jak's eyes narrowed. There had to be a trick to it. He picked it up and began winding the string around it again. Maybe he'd thrown too hard? Maybe it was more like casting a fishing line than a grenade.

The second time, the trompo landed on its point and spun around once or twice, but soon wobbled and fell. The third time, it spun for nearly four seconds before clattering to the floor. The fourth attempt was too fast and sent it rolling across the room again.

Sig sat down beside Damas to watch the boys. Daxter and Chopper had both been completely buried under Mar's four beloved stuffed animals -- none of which had been forgotten in the last two years.

Mar had grabbed his weighted Star Blankie from his cot and was menacing Daxter with it, intent on tucking him into "bed".

And Jak crouched barefoot in the center of the nursery, watching the spinning top with wide, fascinated eyes. It was as if he'd forgotten the rest of them existed, hyperfocused on unraveling the secrets of a little wooden trompo.

"Well, at least two shirts still fit. Pants will be an adventure, but-" Damas looked up and his words trailed away.

Beside him, Sig was watching Jak with such a sadness in his eye that it drove thoughts of clothing from Damas's mind entirely.

"...Sig?"

The breath Sig took was shaky. He swallowed hard.

"I've never seen him play," he whispered.

"I didn't think he even knew how after what they did to him. I-"

He stopped and covered his mouth with one hand. He didn't want Mar to see him looking so distraught. But he couldn't help wondering how many years it had been since Jak had played. Since he'd even been allowed to act his age. Had the "training" started early? Did he ever know what it was to be coddled? To be tucked into bed, or held close during thunderstorms?

Would he allow them to fill in the holes Haven had left behind?

Sig's throat ached when he looked at the innocent smile on the teenage mercenary's face. There was still a sweet little kid in there, there had to be. But they had to make him feel safe enough to come out.

"Daym, we have to get him some toys," he whispered. "I...I don't think he's ever had any."

The same realization Sig had made dawned slowly on Damas’s face. His brows knit together and the lines etched around his mouth deepened. Perhaps he needed to take his resolution to treat both boys equally a little more literally than he'd first planned.

"Oooo!"

Mar had finally noticed the trompo.

He stopped trying to bury Daxter and Chopper in toys and scampered over to lean on Jak’s back.

"Oowow, Za!"

That innocent look turned bashful as Jak twisted to look at his little half-brother. "Pretty cool, huh?" he asked.

"Do it again!" Mar signed enthusiastically, "Make it go all the way to the door!"

Jak shrugged. "Why not. We'll give it a go."

"Heads-up, in five minutes I think Mar needs to get ready for bed," Sig warned suddenly.

"I'm not tired!" Mar protested.

"Mar-mar you've been rubbing your eyes for fifteen minutes," Daxter tattled from under the stuffed animals.

Jak bounced his shoulder, causing the toddler to slide off. "And you turn into a Lurker when you're overtired. We'll do one more spin, and then I'll-"

He frowned. No, they weren't in Haven anymore. Things were different now. He didn't know the rules here.

"Uh. I guess they'll get you ready for bed?"

Damas actually looked embarrassed, and even a little sad. He blew a breath out through his teeth.

"Jak," he began, "It's been…It's been two years since Mar was home. As much as I want to fall back on the routine we kept…before…I- I don't think that's what Mar is used to."

Sig nudged Damas’s elbow in an attempt at comfort and nodded. "He's right, cherry. Do you…want to show us what you usually do?"

Jak exchanged a look with Daxter. Daxter shrugged and extricated himself from the pile of toys. He brushed himself off and eyed the room critically.

"Yeeeeahh….I don't think he's gonna sleep. Not without the lights on. Those barbarians in the Underground never turn the lights out. And lemme warn you now: this kid? He's a climber. That dresser better be anchored to the wall, or he will try to monkey his way up it in the middle of the night."

“Ah. So he still does that.” Damas chuckled ruefully. “I can't say I'm surprised.”

He raised his brows at Mar.

“And for the record, little one, Daddy, Ba, and Jak and Daxter are all on the same page here. You're not staying up to break of dawn just to play with your toys. They'll still be here tomorrow, I promise.”

"Well, then can Dax and Jakky sleep over?"

Mar ran to climb up into Damas’s lap, beaming winningly at him and Sig. "So they can play with me tomorrow?"

"Of course, Marmo," Sig answered warmly. "They can stay as long as they want."

Mar's eyes lit up and he threw his arms up with a jubilant hiss. Then a puzzled look came over him.

"Does he have to ask his grown-ups? With the scribbly face and Mr. Green Man?"

Jak's face hardened. "I don't have to tell them anything," he scoffed.

Sig nodded with a hard set to his jaw. "They aren't his grown-ups, baby. Me and your daddy are, or close enough to it."

If anything, this only seemed to confuse the little boy more. He wrinkled his button nose at Sig, then looked to Damas. "But I thought Jakky lived in the stinky city!"

"Not if I can help it," Jak grumbled. He let out a gusty sigh and shifted his eyes away. "Look, um. Your dad is...we...we kinda...share the same dad. It's weird, I know."

He missed the gentle expression that passed over Damas’s face. It was the first time he'd acknowledged their connection at all, let alone out loud. That was a promising sign. Damas could only hope his firstborn would continue to be open to getting to know them.

Mar blinked slowly as he digested this information. The big boy had been calling him "little brother", now that he thought of it. But Mar had thought they'd just decided to be brothers, like how he decided to adop' his puppy! But if he and Jakky shared the same daddy-

"Are you Jakky's Ba too?"

Sig laughed awkwardly. "Uhhhhh no. At least, not originally. I wasn't related to his ma."

He glanced up at Jak.

"You can call me what you want," he joked, "long as you aren't knockin' my marksmanship."

Jak looked just as awkward. "I'll uh, I'll stick with Sig."

He fiddled with the string of the trompo and wound it up. When he was satisfied that he'd twisted the cord correctly, he shifted his weight and prepared to throw the top again.

"Okay squirt, last spin, then you pick which side of the bed the dog gets tonight."

Daxter stretched out his spine and leaned on the stuffed Flut-Flut.

"You want us to camp in here with ya, kiddo?"

Mar started to nod, then a thoughtful look came over him. He snuggled closer to Damas’s chest.

"Um," he mumbled, then looked a little guilty as he signed, "Yes, only I think maybe Daddy might get scared tonight. And I am a big kid now, so I should help him be not scared."

Jak actually cracked a grin, alleviating some of the guilt on the little boy's face. "Oh yeah? You're gonna be his bodyguard tonight?"

"Yeah!"

"Well who's going to stay with Chopper?" Jak teased.

A look of consternation wrinkled Mar's brow, then just as quickly melted into stubbornness.

"You! You sleep in my room with Chopper!"

The boys sent a skeptical glance at Mar's alcove bed. While it had been commissioned with growth in mind, it was still over a foot shorter than would be comfortable for a teenager. If he stayed in a fetal position the whole night, Jak supposed he could manage it. After all, on his first night in Spargus, Jak slept in the indoor oasis, curled up between potted palms and safely out of sight.

Apparently, that wasn't acceptable for a long term stay. Not that Jak intended on staying that long. Not while the Baron was still alive and still a threat to his brother.

He told himself he didn't need a bed. Why bother when he wasn't even meant to stay that long? He'd done his part, he'd brought Mar back to his -- er…their -- family. Any moment now they'd probably give him an air train pass back to Haven.

Keep your expectations low enough, and it's harder for people to disappoint you.

Sig noticed his quiet and cleared his throat meaningfully at Damas. And for his part, Damas interpreted the sound as quickly as Daxter could read Jak's faces. He stood and, after reluctantly handing Mar to Sig, excused himself.

Daxter folded his arms. "Where's he off to?"

Sig held Mar's hands and bounced him up and down. He smiled. "Oh, just moving some bedsheets around to make a curtain."

"Is he into interior decorating on the side?" Daxter demanded, "And does he do free consultations?"

"What."

Daxter shoved Jak's skeptical face. "Hey, if Krew's dead, the bar's mine. And the way that man decorated is a travesty!"

Sig laughed outright. "Well, the "incident" left poor Tess at the bar all by herself for a couple days, so I'm sure she's tweaking lots of things here and there."

He leaned back against the squishy blue bean-sand-chair thing. "Nah, this is just a privacy curtain for the sitting room. Til we can find just the right room for you two chili peppers."

With a wink, he added, "You won't have to fold in half just to sleep if we put you on the couch. If your old man remembers to get his clean laundry off of it."

"I'm working on it!" Damas shouted from the other room.

"You...don't have to do that," Jak mumbled.

This much attention without a task attached to it was...weird. It made him nervous.

Sig gave him a no-nonsense look. "You're teenagers," he said bluntly, "You need boundaries. As much as you and Mar love each other, he can't be up in your space every minute of the day. Having a room of your own lets you...regroup, y'know? Have some privacy when the world gets to be a little too much."

Jak started. It was as if the big man had been reading his thoughts. He did feel overwhelmed. He needed a safe place to withdraw to. But he didn't know this place. He didn't know where the safe places were! Jak folded his arms tightly over his chest and let the channeling ring dig into his skin, cold and hard and proof he was there, and real.

"What's the catch?" Daxter asked on his behalf.

It didn't seem like the question surprised Sig much. He wrapped Mar in a tight hug, then set him down on the floor. With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet and feigned nonchalance.

"Well, you gotta keep your room clean enough to walk in. Easier said than done for some kids."

Jak relaxed slightly. So there was an exchange. Easier to accept things when he knew exactly what the terms were. Borrow a room for a while in exchange for keeping it clean. Made sense, they'd need it again later, probably. But it didn't seem like a fair exchange. Surely there had to be something else they wanted from him!

"What else do we have to do?" he asked.

There was no hostility in the question, only mild curiosity. But Sig winced all the same.

"Well, considering we ain't Krew, or whoever you worked for in the Underground, nothing. This isn't a job, cherry, it's a home! We're not employing you, we're trying-"

He scratched his head, stumped for how to phrase it. How to explain to the boys that they were entitled to being cared for.

"We- Damas and I- we just want to give you back the childhood they took. Dunno what that looks like yet, but...give us a chance? We just want you to be okay."

First

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[medievalfantasist]

Snippet Friday!

The bed was enormous, almost the size of the entire room. It had draperies that were currently tied back, was piled with pillows, and had three distinct lumps under the fluffy comforter.

Three moving lumps.

One of them gasped, then moaned.

“What the fuck,” Sybil said out loud, and the moan turned to a shriek. The comforter flew into the air as bodies under it flailed, and when it settled, three naked young people were staring at Sybil, eyes wide.

Sybil fixed her gaze on the draperies. “I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me,” she said to them. “Of course it’s both. Why wouldn’t it be both?”

“I can explain,” Rell said.

[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

[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

[sunfloweraro]

More Pink Bunny AU!

AKA Twi taking the first opportunity to steal Bunny from Hyrule

(Tagging @thatonecrazysidekick and @tiredgaytheatrekid for more Bunny writing!)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Hyrule fell face-first into the swamp, the rabbit still in his arms.

The rabbit squeaked in pain as Hyrule landed on it and jumped out of Hyrule’s arms, its eyes wide and panicked. It struggled to stay afloat in the shin-high water, frantically flapping its little arms and kicking its legs, but its head sank beneath the swampy water.

Twilight rushed over, grabbing the rabbit by the scruff, hauling it out of the swampy water and into his arms. It latched onto him as he pulled it to his chest, shaking like a leaf, and Twilight was quick to murmur soft reassurances to the poor rabbit. Where it had been filthy before, the rabbit now appeared grey with dirt and grime.

“Yer okay,” he repeated softly, holding the rabbit close and walking them both out of the swamp. Hyrule hauled his head out of the water, face falling when he saw the rabbit in Twilight’s arms.

“Shoot, I’m so sorry!” Hyrule was up and sloshing water everywhere in a beat. Drops pattered down from his chin and drenched clothes, but he paid them no mind. “Is it okay?” He reached for the rabbit, only to pause when it whimpered, his face stricken.

“Ya fell on it,” Twilight said, pulling it away from Hyrule’s arms. “We’re both mad at ya.”

“What—It was an accident!”

Twilight hummed. “I think it’s better off with someone who ain’t soppin’ wet.”

“You just want to hold it.”

“Perhaps.”

[ksbbb]

Fuck it Friday Saturday

Tagged by @hemlocksandfoxgloves @mmoosen @blue-hair-and-angels

“Theo’s not going to do anything. You just said you’re the fighter.” Liam points out, and Theo doesn’t like that kind of baseless statement, feeling as if he needs to redeem himself somehow.

Liam gently places his wrist in front of Theo’s lips, quietly waiting for him to take his needed fill of blood, and he can’t bring himself to do it.

Not Liam. He’s too trusting and not worried about the possibility of Theo losing control. He can’t risk it, but his blood is sweet, making the vampire hungry, even in his weakened form.

He slowly closes his mouth around Liam’s wrist, sucking the blood slowly, and sighing at the first couple drops he takes.

“I’m mmm you did…on.” Theo grumbles, losing his thought and talking with a mouthful of blood.

“No talking while you're eating Theo. Rude.” Liam mutters, as he flinches when Theo sucks a bit too hard.

“He’s gotta be mad I was the one to kill —.” Boyd says, pleased with himself and ready to rub it in Theo’s face.

Tagging @maplesyrizzup @wolfboy88 @chasing-chimeras @theoceanismyinkwell @thiamsxbitch @thiamsalphas-blog @honestlydarkprincess

[radioactivepeasant]

This Week's Snippet Schedule:

Featuring Uncategorized Snippets that (mostly) aren't part of any larger aus

Monday: Viper

Wednesday: Expedition (actually loosely connected to the Sons of Spargus universe)

Friday: Dimension Swap - Mar from Jak and Ratchet's universe is inadvertently swapped for Mar from Rivet and Gil's universe just in time for Jak to be exiled.

[medievalfantasist]

Snippet Friday!

Sybil preferred the daytime version of the Festival. She was happy to admit that this was because she was old.

During the day, the marketplace migrated to the open space in front of the Cathedral and flooded into the streets surrounding it. Everything smelled of frying meat and sugar, and a dozen different musical groups competed for attention in a cacophonous wall of sound. People were packed in shoulder-to-shoulder, and various groups handed out things that related to their particular favored god or goddess or saint. By the time Sybil had reached the nominal center of the marketplace, she wore three strings of glass beads and six shell bracelets, and no fewer than four people of varying genders had propositioned her.

[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

[bigfootsmom]

any update on the helicopter crash fic? maybe a lil snippet?🫶🏻

No huge update 😔 still just slowly picking away at it. I think I’m in the homestretch now, but no promises i will be able to finish it before the year is out. But here’s a snippet that I’m gonna use as my fuck it Friday!

The next time Tommy is aware of his surroundings, he knows he’s in a hospital even before he opens his eyes. The familiar smell of antiseptic burns in his nose. Goosebumps break out wherever the too cold recycled air touches skin not covered by the scratchy hospital blanket.

He doesn’t open his eyes right away. He gives himself a second to catalogue all the various aches and pains of his body, mentally doing a sweep from his toes up to the crown of his head. Unfortunately, he can still feel everything. It’s muted by the painkillers that must be dripping into his veins through the IV he can feel taped down to the back of his hand. But he can still feel the uncomfortable pinch in his chest with every slow breath he takes, a deep ache lodged between the slats of his ribs that he knows is only going to grow more persistent as the meds wear off.

Tagged by the lovely and wonderful @homerforsure @try-set-me-on-fire @devirnis @eddiebabygirldiaz @tizniz <3 <3 <3

Friday is over and i am so very tired so consider yourself tagged if you see this 🫶

[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.