#snippet to a bigger chapter

[esta-elavaris]

Doing my edits for CTW and laughing at how Theo goes through the age-old Jack Sparrow attraction process of "oh my god he's so handsome" to "you would be the world's biggest nightmare to be attracted to fr" in record time.

[ameboubou]

Nora really knocked it out of the park with how she managed to constantly portray Neil as such an unhinged character. Not just in the bigger scenes or important moments, but even in little snippets here and there throughout the whole serie.

Like what do you mean that after paying a stranger 100$ to knock him out, Neil’s reflection on it the next chapter is “I’ve been quite reckless with how I spent my money recently, I’ve got to be more careful”.

Like, Neil, honey, the money is not the fucking problem.

[hemlock-dreams]

PleSe may I ask for a tiny morsel of the written word depicting bartender Petey taking care of business when some customers get too rowdy? Saw the "80s theme" and immediately thought he'd look amazing tossing out the trash (ideally covered in blood cause can't make an omelets without breaking eggs but bartenders don't tend to break faces sadly)

Here yo go! Have a snippet from the upcoming Chapter 2 of Pick Your Poison!! Hope you enjoy!!

------------

Wade sees Baby Boy snatch a bottle that comes flying at him out of the air without looking. 

Damn, they threw the thing at mach speed, too. Wade’s got to hand it to the kid; those are some impressive reflexes. He follows the easy catch by spinning the glass with enough flair to make a schoolgirl swoon, setting it against the bartop like he’s the main character.

The jackasses in the back don’t even notice, hauling each other over the tables in a messy, drunken sprawl. Wade hasn’t seen this much fumbling since prom night.

It’s embarrassing. He should do Weasel a favor (and indulge himself) by shooting them in the legs for interrupting plans between Wade and his future paycheck. But the look of intense concentration on Baby Boy’s face is distracting. That’s the furrowed brow of a man who is about to fuck around and find out.

Boo. Three more days and Baby Boy would have passed the cutoff mark. 

Wade usually likes hedging his bets on the underdog for the thrill, but four against one is bad odds for anyone who isn’t Deadpool, even a civvie with so many tough-guy tattoos. 

“And he was this close to being the final girl,” Wade mourns performatively, sparing a glance at Weasel to gauge how the man is feeling about the prospect of watching his civilian pet project get snapped in half. But the asshole just looks vaguely amused, which piques Wade’s interest.

So he turns back around just in time to watch Baby Boy march right into fucking around territory, straight up walking toward the group of heavily-armed mercs, no weapons, no foreplay, no nothing– just moxie.

Damn. He’s stupid. Wade likes that in a guy.

“Hey,” Baby Boy says, wrapping a hand around the leg of one wooden chair as the one with a bad haircut raises it over his head. 

Their kerfuffle is interrupted as four extremely drunk mercs with more bullets than brains pause to reorient their attention on Baby Boy.

“You know the rules. Sit down, or take it outside,” He continues, tugging on the chair like he’s trying to take it from an unruly toddler. 

There’s a collective laugh from all four bozos as they forget their beef to unionize against a new, soft, and squishy target.

“Oh yeah?” The short one smiles, revealing a row of really ugly teeth. Wade’s fist immediately itches to plant itself into that mouth, just for offending his eyes like that. “Who’s going to make us, you?” 

The edge of Baby Boy’s mouth curves, “If I have to,” he says, and it can’t be mistaken as anything but a taunt.

Bold move, Cotton. 

The rest of the bar, normally oblivious to a few broken pieces of furniture and some blood, takes notice of the audacity. Wade can practically hear eyeballs turning and the collective bating of breath. 

“That’s cute. He thinks he can take us.” Bad Haircut snickers, drunkenly swaying into the conversation. He gives Baby Boy a once-over, expression turning lewd, “Then again, maybe he can…in one of the back rooms.” 

“He does have bigger tits than most of the girls here,” His unfortunate-looking friend leers, staring at Baby Boy’s admittedly mouth-watering chest. Motherfucker is tall and top-heavy, built like a linebacker, invading the kid’s space like he’s looking for a touchdown if you get Wade’s drift. “Got a pretty face, too. What do you say, sweetheart? Why don’t we go to the back and we can apologize to you real good.”

Baby Boy’s hand constricts halfway into a fist before he forces it to relax. He looks like he’s barely holding himself back, and coin flip on whether this is going to be very funny or very sad, but either way, Wade’s on board to be entertained.

“Yo Weasel,” Ugly Smile calls out, eyes locked on Baby Boy, lurid and alcohol-glazed, “You mind if we take your bar boy for a spin?”

His grin promises an unpleasant time, but Wade isn’t worried. Maggie’s is a shithole for sure, with morals looser than Wade’s jaw, but some things are still too far. Not that it keeps these loser shitheads from defaulting to it when they need to compensate.

“You break it, you buy it,” Weasel replies gamely. Which, dang, cold. Always nice to be reminded why Wade kind of likes the guy. 

Baby Boy’s mouth twitches into a smile, and Wade’s entire body goes on alert, “Take the chair out of my rent, then.”

Ready, set, action. An invisible hand slams the clapboard, and everyone bursts into motion.

The chair in question swings and misses. Baby Boy fluidly sidestepping both Bad Haircut and his buddy, grabbing the support and using the momentum to hook the wooden back over Linebacker’s neck, flipping the chair and twisting both mercs like puppets before sending them crashing to the floor. 

Bad Haircut is scrambling up, but Linebacker is pinned to the floor by his chair necklace, anchored by Baby Boy’s leg as he presses down hard enough to snap the wood and drive the remaining air out of his lungs.

The bigger they are, the dumber they fall. Linebacker is immediately out for the count, but a broken chair is still useful, and Baby Boy is apparently the creative sort.

The snapped leg turns into a baton, and Baby Boy leisurely sways out of pistol-whipping range when Bad Haircut pulls out his gun, dancing back in to drive the splintered wood under the merc’s armpit on the outswing.

Screaming in pain, Bad Haircut stumbles back only for Baby Boy to grab his wrist and haul him forward, twisting his arm in a fancy maneuver that ends up with the gun on the floor and kicked safely out of reach.

Interesting.

Then it’s a pas de deux, with Baby Boy’s back against Haircut’s chest, using the impaled baton as leverage to toss the man over his shoulder and straight into Ugly Smile. 

The merc falls out of the way, only to run into Baby Boy’s fist as it buries deep in his guts. Even at a distance, Wade can hear his ribs break. Doubled over, Ugly Smile is coughing up blood and vomit when a tattooed hand cradles the back of his head and slams his mouth into the table once, twice, three times. Then it’s lights out.

It’s over almost as soon as it began, and as the dust settles, Wade is reevaluating the merits of his earlier bet. 

Yes, they were drunk, but Wade still expected it to be fast, if not messy. He hadn’t been counting on class. He hadn’t been counting on Baby Boy to be the one last standing, let alone to have shut them down so completely it barely merits the paragraph.

And the kid isn’t even done. He’s locked eyes with the fourth guy, jaw flexing like an attack dog straining against its leash, but the dumbass looks like he’s turned over a new leaf and become a law-abiding citizen in the few heartbeats it took Baby Boy to clean the floor with his buddies. 

When the guy doesn’t make a move, Baby Boy leans back, completely relaxed, eyes flat, no sense of triumph in the aftermath, just…disappointment– like he’d been craving something more and been left wanting.

Wade can’t resist a low, appreciative whistle, clocking the way Baby Boy’s entire body reacts to the sound. His head snaps in Wade’s direction, and the whole room vignettes as he stares Wade down, eyes flashing like he wants to crumble his spine like a cookie. 

Lust stabs Wade’s gut all the way to the hilt.

“Changed my mind, Weas,” Wade breathes, feeling the tension drain from the room and right into his dick. “You should keep him.”

[infamous-if]

March ✮ 2 ✮ 2024 – update

Another non-update, but I just wanted to get it out there! Happy March! I'm glad everyone liked the flashback. I quite like long content like that because it gives me more freedom. Plus, it's fun.

✮ — March will be for

Choosing the beta testers. I got A LOT of submissions, which I'm really grateful for! But I only have plans to a handful as of right now. That will change as the story gets bigger and bigger and I'll have to add more. I'll make a post when I have chosen and DM'd the beta testers.

Finishing the rewrite. Am I wild to think I can finish chapter 1 and chapter 2 this month? Yeah. Will I try anyway? YES.

Chapter 3 development. Outline done. Beginning done (I started working on it on my off-time. Oops) Hopefully I can get somewhere substantial. With beta testers now, I won't have to worry over errors and coding. That's 40% of why it takes me as long as it does. We'll see!

Patreon content as usual.

I haven't finished the spicy snippets because I haven't been able to think of good scenarios for the remaining ROs. Once I do, I'll be sure to write them!

That valentines special...Yes. I haven't forgotten it! lol

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a good day! <3

[theotherbuckley]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday🦵

So because this fandom is so good I’ve decided to continue with the Bucktommy physio fic! I’ll post the first chapter sometime this week depending on when I get the chance 😅 interact with this post if you’d like to be tagged when I post!

Here’s one more snippet before then:

Tommy’s different from his other friends, he’s so confident in who he is and he’s not afraid to show it. He makes dumb deadpan jokes, but Buck can’t get enough. He’s never really had people outside of his job or his family. It’s just nice to have someone to talk to, someone who listens to him, without having any obligation to do so.

He asks questions at all the right times, prompting Buck to talk further about his research, a soft smile never leaving his face as he listens intently. Tommy shares his own anecdotes and experiences too, little details about his past, even those that he’s not too proud of.

Buck absorbs every piece of information, storing it in his mind for later.

When Tommy shows him a photo of Judo, his goofy German Shepherd, Buck beams at him, teasing him about losing tug of war to him despite having muscles bigger than Captain America. Tommy rolls his eyes and promises that Judo is much stronger than he looks.

By the time dinner ends, Buck is exhausted.

It’s another thing that people neglect to mention with recovery. It’s not just the broken leg that causes him grief, his entire body feels the ramifications of the injury — the healing process sucking every ounce of life from him. He feels like he’s aged 100 years since the accident, and he’s not even being dramatic. Okay… maybe a little.

Tommy seems to notice him flagging in his seat, calling over the waitress to pay the bill. Buck’s too tired to even register him paying, but when his brain finally catches up Tommy has already paid.

“I thought I was the one owing you a beer,” Buck says, as Tommy helps him out of his seat, handing over his cane.

“Guess we’ll need to hang out again,” Tommy says with a wink that sends a flutter through Buck’s body.

Taglist: let me know if you want to be added or removed from my normal BT taglist

@bidisasterevankinard @diazheartsbuckley @your-catfish-friend @eowon @watchyourbuck @diazsdimples @wikiangela @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @actualalligator @pirrusstuff @actuallyitsellie @perfectlysunny02 @rogerzsteven @bucksbignaturals @smallandalmosthonest @loucifersbitch @lavenderleahy @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @cliophilyra @typicalopposite @30somethingautisticteacher @talktonytome @buffaluff @marvelousbuckley @half-oz-eddie @xofemeraldstars @hyperfocusthusly @sherlocking-out-loud @desert--moonchild @swagmaster9k also some people changed urls so pls let me know if I missed you

[paperstorm]

(I'm so sorry if this posts twice, I had it queued but tumblr seems to have eaten it) Thanks for the tags @annoyingcloudearthquake @rangersoup @thisbuildinghasfeelings and @carlos-in-glasses! Here is a snippet from Somewhere in a Song, chapter posting tomorrow :)

It takes Carlos a moment, as he steps into the main part of the theater from a side entrance, to notice he isn’t alone. TK is sitting at the edge of the stage in the middle, with his legs hanging over the sides, purple Converse on his feet and black jeans despite the summer heat outside.

“Oh,” Carlos says in surprise, from yards away where he’s standing in the aisle between rows of red velvet chairs.

“Hey.” TK nods at him in greeting. His hands are tucked underneath his thighs and Carlos looks around quickly, wondering if TK’s bandmates are here as well. He thought he spotted Marjan back in the lobby of the hotel, but now he’s wondering if it wasn’t her. He only saw the woman from the back.

“Where’s the rest of your crew?” TK asks, echoing the question Carlos hadn’t gotten around to asking.

“Back at the hotel. Relaxing.”

TK nods again.

“What are you doing here?”

Raising an eyebrow, TK combatively asks, “What are you doing here?”

Carlos bites back a sigh.

Before he can reply, TK gives him an answer. “We’ve never been at this venue before. The last time we were here, we played some rinky-dink place across town.”

Their eyes meet and their gaze holds for a long moment. Carlos steps forward, walking further toward the stage. He climbs the five steps up the side of it and turns so he can take in the seemingly endless rows of seating from the vantage point he’ll have tonight when they perform on this stage.

“I like to get to know a place before I play it,” TK continues with a casual shrug. He looks around, leaning back on his hands and head tipping back to look up at the high vaulted ceiling, intricately painted in gold and red and orange. “Especially these old historical theaters. Get a feel for the bones of it, a feel for …”

He trails off and Carlos finds himself desperately curious to hear the end of the sentence, because it sounds so much like exactly what he was doing five minutes ago. TK looks over at him, and then quickly looks away.

“Never mind,” he says, with a laugh and a roll of his eyes. “Did you want the stage for something? I can head out.”

“A feel for what?” Carlos asks.

TK licks his lips. He’s wearing glittery earrings today and they sparkle in the overhead lights. His head turns again, blinking at Carlos, green eyes searching his face. Whatever he’s looking for, he must find, because softly he says, “For the artists who were here before me. Jazz bands or opera singers or – I don’t know, fucking … tap dancers.”

Carlos chuckles and watches as just a glimmer of a smile changes the shape of TK’s face before he’s gazing back out into the empty auditorium.

“Maybe it’s stupid,” TK says with a shrug. There’s an edge to his voice that suggests he’s daring Carlos to make fun of him and see what happens. “But I like to think everyone who gets to perform in a place like this leaves a mark on it. Like they’re all still here, somehow, and after tonight we’ll be here too, cheering on the next act that comes through.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Silence settles between them for another moment, and then TK asks, “So, what are you doing here?”

“Same thing, basically,” Carlos tells him honestly.

TK looks at him, and again Carlos feels as if he’s being x-rayed by those clear green eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. That’s what music can do, right? Make you feel like you’re part of something bigger than yourself. Bigger than just a song or a show or a moment in time.”

Tagging @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @eclectic-sassycoweyes @carlos-in-glasses

@bonheur-cafe @actual-sleeping-beauty @herefortarlos @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo

@goodways @lightningboltreader @emsprovisions @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21

@reasonandfaithinharmony @ladytessa74 @never-blooms @sanjuwrites @orchidscript

@lemonlyman-dotcom @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce @hereghostslive

@just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter

@butchreyes @anactualcaseofthetruth @ditheringmind @thisbuildinghasfeelings @whatsintheboxmh

@irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89 @nancys-braids

@carlossreaders @denizoid @everlastingday

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[pedrospatch]

wip wednesday

thank you for the tags angels 🤍 @mrsmando @honeyedmiller @mermaidgirl30 @gasolinerainbowpuddles @thelightsandtheroses

here are snippets of some of the many wips i am actively working on. or trying to anyway.

the gold room - dbf!joel x stripper!reader

“Jesus Christ.” Joel stares at you, using every last ounce of strength he has in his entire body not to let his gaze wander past your chin. He’s trying not to look at the way your skintight, neon pink dress hugs every soft, heavenly curve of your body, how the matching rhinestone garter shimmers around your deliciously plush thigh. “Is it even legal for you to be fuckin’ workin’ here?” Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms and shift your weight from one seven inch heel to the other.  “You can dance at eighteen,” you inform him. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m twenty one, Mr. Miller. So with all due respect, chill the fuck out, okay?” “You went to college—“ “College is fucking expensive,” you interject with a shrug. “The job market is shit and I don’t plan on drowning in my student debt for the next ten years. Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Don’t stand there and judge me. Don’t act like what I do is so terrible when you have been paying good fucking money for girls like me to dance for you and sit in your lap all night long.” “That’s fuckin’ different. None of those girls are my best friend’s daughter.”

flutter - post outbreak! joel x pregnant!reader

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the stove, you crack a couple eggs into another, knowing the kid was on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast. “Morning!” Ellie pipes, the plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you. “Ellie,” you warn, walking over to the table. “Don’t—” “You’re bigger!” With a playful glare, you set her plate down along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks, you little jerk,” you say, feigning offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.” “Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she starts to sputter. “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach—you didn’t look like this yesterday. You look great, just different.” She’s lucky your raging hormones decided to take the morning off.

chapter 10 for a safe haven

*this is just a short short snippet because it’s being heavily edited rn so i can post it soon!

He peels off his clothes, being careful not to further agitate his sore, inured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you sitting in bed under the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home.”

np tags! 🤍 @sugarcoated-lame @ozarkthedog @amanitacowboy @sp00kymulderr @ilovepedro @ezrasbirdie and anyone else who’d like to share their wips!

[tunaababee]

our fingers touch (i feel my way back home)

for @rosanna-writer in the @acotargiftexchange 2024!

read on AO3 // overall rating: e // wc this chapter: 7.2k

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Feyre Archeron has never much believed in soulmates, despite the mark along her back that's been there since birth indicating that there's someone out there for her. To keep the family afloat, her father has promised her to be wed to a powerful business associate of his, who definitely likes her... But not the mark running down her back.

Rhysand Sterling has kept the fact that he has a soulmate hidden - when you become the head of a crime family, you can't afford to have such obvious weaknesses. But there's a magnetic draw to the woman his rival is engaged to... And he's looking for some leverage on him.

As their worlds collide, it seems like it may have been meant to be.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

SURPRISE!!! i'm your Secret Santa!! it's been an absolute blast being able to get to know you more, and to pick your brain to try and cobble together the perfect gift for you <3

i know i probably gave myself away because i can't hide myself well to save my life, but i really truly hope you love this. as soon as i got my assignment i was SO nervous on how i was going to live up to THE ariel jeremy jordan and her wonderful writing!!!! i have so much planned for this au because it got so much bigger than i anticipated in my head. can't wait to have you along for the ride!!

another huge thank you to @whatishowedyouinthedark, @berd-nerd and @popjunkie42 for beta reading as well!!

a snippet of the chapter is below, but you can keep reading the rest on AO3! no update schedule, but hopefully i will have more soon!!

i hope you enjoy! 💖

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Elbow perched on the bar countertop, head in her hand while wallowing in a hearty dose of depression and self-pity, she didn't even notice the stranger who had sidled up to the bar and took the seat next to her without a word. She didn't notice the way his gaze slowly trailed over her, absorbing every detail of her with a smug smirk on his face, or the way he turned his body around to face her as she grumbled quietly to herself.

"Aren't you the picture of merriment and joy?" he drawled, amusement trickling into the edges of his voice. Feyre's eyebrows knitted together in annoyance - who the fuck did this guy think he was? She whipped around on the barstool to face him, only to be surprised by who faced her. A stranger, sure, but not one like any of the others here. If she had been introduced to him, she would have remembered.

The man who sat before her was younger, for one - had a spark in his eyes, a life to him she didn't see in typical political and business suits. Most of the time they were decrepit, grey-haired near-retirees that gave off sleaze in waves. But this man was put-together, suave even. Thick, raven-black hair that was perfectly coiffed, save for a stray curl that fell over his forehead that helped him exude an almost boyish charm. Enthralling, deep blue eyes, plush lips and deeply tanned skin for miles. His suit was well tailored and crisply pressed, emphasising his athletic build. His broad hands, one holding his glass and the other on his meaty thigh, were littered with silver bands, simple and unadorned save for the eye-catching signet ring on his right hand.

He perplexed her. He fascinated her. He was downright beautiful, even.

Feyre couldn't be certain she wasn't drooling. At least she'd look as dull as this party felt if she was.

“Excuse me?”

[httpiastri]

okay so i started writing on a boyfriend!paul blurb for after the race today, but then i deleted it and wrote this instead: a short snippet of a future chapter of the "the way i loved you" fic 😋 pretty short but it's all i can produce rn lol. will likely have some changes when i post the actual chapter. aiming to post the first things from the fic soon !!! hope u enjoy 😚

series masterlist

paul is beaming when you see him stroll back to the paddock after his media duties. his cap is perched on top of his head – the right cap, finally – and his fingers are still tightly wrapped around the neck of his champagne bottle. when he notices you leaning against the doorframe leading into the f2 hospitality, his smile grows even bigger.

you meet him halfway, arms wrapping around his shoulders easily, just like they have so many times before. one of his arms drapes around your waist and he holds you close, a hum vibrating from his chest. "congrats, paul," you tell him. "that was amazing. you were amazing."

"thank you," he says before pausing. then, he lets out a chuckle. "to be honest, i wasn't sure if you would care."

you frown at him when you pull slightly away from him, just enough to look into his eyes. is that what he really thought? that you wouldn't care about his driving? "oh, please. you still mean a lot to me, okay?" your hand moves down to his upper arm, giving it a soft squeeze. "i still consider you to be one of my closest friends."

friends. the word stings like a knife in his heart. it's been months since you broke up, and yet, it still feels like a raw wound.

paul forces a smile. he understands that despite how painful it is, there's something good in it. there's still a place for him in your heart, even if he's forced to share it with someone else.

he pulls you in again, and the hug is even tighter now than before. it's a comforting feeling; you're both at peace, with a good weekend behind you, in the arms of someone so close to you. after everything you've gone through together, but especially everything he has gone through these last few months with the mercedes academy and so on, you're finally through to the other side. "it all worked out in the end, huh?" you ask after a few moments of silence.

"i guess it did." you part from each other to leave that oh-so-familiar gap between you yet again. "will you be celebrating with us tonight? i think pepe had something planned. you know how he is."

you snort. "yeah, i do know. maybe i will." you shift uncomfortably, crossing your arms over your chest as your eyes dart to the ground. "but, um... i'll have to check with..."

you don't even say his name – you don't have to. ollie didn't just have a bad race today; the entire weekend has been so far from everyone's expectations. and if you know him correctly, he will not be in the mood for celebrations tonight.

paul just nods slowly, pressing his lips into a thin line. "right."

the silence that follows is so awkward you can't help but chew on your bottom lip, a tiny sigh escaping through your mouth. he must be hating this, you think – today is supposed to be only a good day for him, he shouldn't have his ex's new relationship pushed up in his face.

"well, i have a debrief to get to," you make up, flashing him a quick smile. "congrats again, paul."

"thank you." he gives you another nod, before turning away and making his way towards the paddock. "pepe will text you!"

and just like that, he's off, and your mind wanders to the thought of actually going out to celebrate. ollie will definitely not join you, though you're not sure why you don't want to go without him. is it because you'd rather stay and comfort him?

or is it because you're scared of what you'll do, or feel, when you're alone with paul for the first time since you broke up?

[ladysomething]

Omg the last chapter where do I start ? IT WAS AMAZING!

I'm so curious to see what happens next, could we get a snippet from the next chapter please ?

crying I forgot I wrote this, good like with this snippet ya'll

They’re seated at the table when Charles brings it up. 

“So does your dick get extra big when you have a rut?” 

There. That should ease them into the conversation. 

Max chokes on his mouthful on broccoli, coughing loudly. Charles hovers awkwardly, wondering if he should help, and thinking that maybe that wasn’t actually the best way or time to start. 

Max takes a deep drink of water, cheeks flushed bright red, staring at the ceiling as he gulps the water. Charles waits for him to get himself together, trying to be patient as he fiddles with the end of his fork. 

“Um. What?” Max asks eventually, cheek still pink. 

“I read an article,” Charles says, trying to be as unemotional as he can. If he gets emotional, he won’t get his point across. “About alphas in rut, and the changes you go through. It said some alphas get, like, bigger, and harder. Do you?” 

Max blinks, then scrubs his hand across his face. He puts his knife and fork down, then stares at a point over Charles’ shoulder as he says, “For some of my ruts, yes. I don’t know why not all of them.” 

Hm. 

He wonders whether he was bigger for Lando, then decides that if Max says yes, he’s going to feel unreasonably violent and jealous. It’s best if he doesn’t know. 

[thessynyx]

Here’s a snippet of the first chapter of my Doctor Who jegulus fic! Keep in mind, James will not be referred to as ‘the Doctor’ for the entire fic. Unlike the actual Doctor, James will reveal his actual name to Regulus, he just hasn’t done that yet. The fic isn’t out yet, but I’ll drop updates and snippets on here until it’s released on ao3!

Enjoy:

“Um.” Regulus waves a hand around, swallowing thickly. “It’s bigger on the inside.”

“Yes.”

“It’s alien,” Regulus deducts.

“Yep.”

“Are you alien?”

The Doctor nods. “Yes.” Then frowns. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” Regulus breathes. Is it alright? He’s not even sure. But it has to be, doesn’t it? Because he’s here. He’s in it.

“It’s called the TARDIS. This thing.” The Doctor looks around at the place they’re in with a proud expression. “T-A-R-D-I-S, that’s Time And Relative Dimension In Space.”

Humiliatingly, Regulus bursts into tears. It’s weird. He hasn’t cried in a very long time. And he isn’t entirely sure why he’s crying now. But the tears build up and fall, and Regulus’ shoulders curl forward as he brings a hand up to his mouth. Hot tears run down his cheeks and onto the collar of his shirt.

The Doctor just smiles, sympathetically. “Oh, that’s okay, love. Culture shock. Happens to the best of us.”

[forsaire]

Next to you

Chapter 4 snippet of Please Say You Love Me where our two favourite boys are joking around and having a good time together 💖 (amongst other angst)

...

“What would you do if you won the lottery?” Soap suddenly asked out of the blue.

Ghost looked back over at Soap, a confused scrunch to his brow pinching up his face at the odd question.

“What?” he asked. “Where’s this coming from?”

Soap shrugged. “Just chatting. I can go first. I’d probably try to find one of those expensive and experimental medical trials taking place in some remote location like the Swiss Alps or something. Something that might help me get my memories back. The research would be controversial and exploitative, but the best ones are, aren’t they?”

“You’re willing to be a guinea pig?”

“I’m willing to do a lot of things right now. As long as it could help me.”

Ghost felt the same way, but he’d never put Soap in harm’s way or expose him to unnecessary danger for that to happen. He’d been through enough already. In a heartbeat he’d give his own body though.

“Oh, and then maybe charity,” Soap finished. “Depending on how much actual money there was. What about you?”

Winning the lottery was so out of the realm of possibility for Ghost’s life that he had never even hypothetically considered the question. With what little money the military gave him, lottery tickets didn’t seem like a good investment. He didn’t know when he’d have the time to enjoy the money anyway.

“I guess… I guess I’d try to find a house?” Ghost replied without much conviction. “Something bigger than my flat would be nice. But then again, I wouldn’t get much time to actually live in the house while working.”

Soap tilted his head slightly, as if amused by the answer. “You wouldn’t retire if you won millions of dollars?”

The thought of retiring for reasons other than natural old age or substantial injury hadn’t crossed his mind. He thought he was going to be doing this job for life.

“Hadn’t thought about it…” Ghost replied honestly.

“So… medical treatment, charity, and a house. Those are very respectable and responsible answers.” There was a mischievous glint in Soap’s eyes as a small smirk spread across his lips. “And what would we do selfishly with the money?”

“Boat,” Ghost answered immediately. “Big one.”

“Tiger.”

Ghost let out an incredulous chuckle and shook his head. “Tiger…” he repeated under his breath. “You know that tends not to work out for the handlers, right? Trying to keep a tiger captive is like accepting the loss of a limb as an inevitable part of life.”

“Not my tigers,” Soap replied with faux seriousness. “They’d behave. They’d have to respect me. I’d make them respect me.”

“I see no flaw in your reasoning.”

“They’re just big cats. They probably also love belly rubs and ear scratches.”

“You sound fantastically delusional.”

“I’ll open your mind to it, just you wait.”

The two of them quietly laughed, the sensation feeling amazing to Ghost. It had been so long since he laughed with Soap. There was no one that could ever make him laugh so genuinely and without hesitation like him. As Soap also laughed, his eyes crinkled and the smile on his face was breathtakingly stunning.

---

Full chapter <3

[fiddles-ifs]

UPDATE 8-30-24

We're so back.

Chapter 1 of Greenwarden is chugging along! Greenwarden will (finally) update once I reach a common route between all the different branches. Current checklist is Bar Route -> Library Route -> Summer's House Route. None of you are ready.

TKP and Erinys are also chugging along! Those will update chapter-by-chapter -- at least that's the plan. Depending on how big they are, they might occasionally update like Greenwarden does, which is whenever I reach a common point between branching paths.

Snippets underneath the cut.

[ID: White text on a dark gray background. The text says: "'What the fuck was that?" You could cry with relief. Bautista. He all but throws his gun into his holster on his way to you. His hands smooth over your neck and face until he notices the drying gash in your stomach.

"'No, no, no,' he sounds shaky. 'Nazeri!' You're starting to feel distant and wobbly, a mirage. Cold all over. Nazeri is still putting on a pair of gloves by the time he kneels by your arm. He has a thin mask over his face. It still doesn't hide the way his pupils go deep and wide and dark smelling all that blood." /end ID]

[ID: White text on a dark gray background. The bottom line of text is bright red. The text says: "You have to fight your instinct to run, wrestle with it until you can pin it down just enough you don't scream and sprint for the hills. You run through your Rolodex of woodland training. Coyotes are ambush-persuit predators when they're not scavenging. They're sprinters by nature — not like wolves or people. Skittish and easily startled, but stubborn. You might be able to make yourself not worth it.

'I see you, motherfucker,' you shout, puffing out your chest and raising your arms to look bigger. Your jacket helps. You feel like a great big stupid bird. It doesn't take the hint right away. If anything, it gets closer out of curiosity.

'Go on!' It jerks back. 'Go on, get!' You get brave and stomp the ground in front of you. Threat displays.

The second you bend down to pick up a rock, you realize you made a mistake. Between one second and the next it's in front of you.

You've never seen a coyote so white, nor one with eyes so blue.

You stare into each others' eyes. Breathless for a few precious seconds. What next?

What comes next is that it smiles at you. Human-like, with pointed canid teeth. The way its mouth moves makes you nauseous — it shouldn't bend like that, it's eyes shouldn't crinkle that way, and you end up making some kind of strangled gag noise before stumbling back.

'Go on,' it says, very calmly. 'Get.'

Doesn't have to tell you twice." /end ID]

[hamsteriffic]

Here is a snippet from the first chapter ‘First comes Misunderstandings…’

It all started with a simple misunderstanding.

Like most things in Marinette’s life, the misunderstanding snowballed, becoming bigger and bigger until it was an avalanche and she’s cold and it’s white everywhere and she’s miserable and she doesn’t know how to get out of it.

Fun times, basically.

Sort of that feeling you get when you accidentally find yourself standing in a white ballroom catching her not-boyfriend in the middle of a romantic dance with his ex kind of miserable. Maybe boyfriend was too strong a word. They had only just confessed to each other their feelings and they hadn’t even kissed.

The Diamond Ball was only the first in a long line of deceit. When Marinette used Zoe’s invitation to enter the Diamond Ball, the first thing she heard was Chloe Bourgeois’ loud obnoxious voice from across the room. Marinette turned the other way, heading directly to the podium where Adrien and Kagami were sitting. She just wanted to tell him it was okay, that she understood his obligations as an Agreste… that she didn’t even want to go to the ball anyway.

But her courage soon faded away as Adrien smiled at his ex-girlfriend. The way he looked at her - with so much emotion that she thought was only reserved for her. She tried to convince herself that it was only that Adrien was doing a convincing job of being in love - he was a model after all, he could fake a smile like the best of them.

Half truths and pretty white lies.

A/N Canon divergence:

Marinette never confronted ‘Adrien’ at the Diamond Ball, so Argos never happened. The events follow roughly the same events leading up to the London Special and post season 5.

Thank you to my amazing and talented friends from the very unhinged, very hilarious Miraculous Big Bang server. A special shout out to @burntwaffle12 @piratesandpizza and @yellowbullet100 for all their work beta-ing and making art along the way!

Follow @mlbigbang2024 or the tags below for more previews!

[utterlyazriel]

"You fight like you're bigger than you are." Straightening up, you pant lightly and peer around the edges of your wings back at Cassian—who apparently isn't done talking at all. He nods to you, in reference the maneuver you've just performed. "That is a move usually far better suited for someone of a larger stature." You clear your throat, wings curling in a bit closer around you. "Yes. Azriel, he- he was trying to rectify that. There's only one way to train Illyrians, as I'm sure you know." Cassian nods, lowering the sword to hang at his side. "That I do. However, I feel Azriel may have been taking the wrong approach given... the information he was not privy to at the time." Your brows knit together, something wrong twisting in your chest. "Because I'm..." Female. "Not a male?" The words come out sharp without meaning to.

snippet from chapter ten of whom the shadows sing for which is coming soon! thanks for sitting tight my lovelies <3

[bookclubforme]

Oh to be a fly on the wall when Xaden had to ask Garrick and Liam for help to move an new armoire into Violet’s room. You know he tried to move it himself first before he realized there was no way he could do it on his own. There’s no way Xaden wanted to admit to his best friends that they broke it during their feral hook up

From the snippet of Garrick in the bonus fourth wing chapter when he teases Xaden for challenging Violet, I’m absolutely certain Garrick was loving it. “Oh? Wing leaders are in charge of furniture maintenance now? Do you want to get her a bigger bed while we’re at it? A sturdier desk perhaps? No? Just the armoire? Whatever you’re into I guess.”

Liam’s so ‘anything you need, no questions asked’ about whatever Xaden needs him to do but also soooooo over Violet and Xaden’s shared antics (eye rolls everytime they start using their mental link to rile each other up) that I doubt he even batted an eye. Like, “sure, Xaden, I’ll help you carry a heavy ass cabinet into Violet’s room and I definetly don’t want to know why you feel like you needed to be the one to personally replace it for her. Get it together, Brother.”

Personally, I choose to believe the reason Xaden didn’t want Violet to put his boots in his armoire wasn’t because there was something he didn’t want her to see, but because he couldn’t find where to get another new armoire without making a request to the Basgiath faculty and Xaden didn’t want to do that so he just gave her his and fantasy-duct-tape’d the broken one and didn’t want Violet to realize what he’d done