#Fic Snippet Friday

[racerchix21]

Fic Snippet Friday

This is a little something I started earlier and I thought I’d introduce y’all to Tommy’s pet hedgehog Charlie!

Tommy has a pet hedgehog. There’s little hedgehog is sitting in the middle of his living room and Buck doesn’t know if his heart can handle this much cuteness. Better than that is the fact that his boyfriend is laying on the floor murmuring to it.

He stands there behind the couch watching the scene before him. Eventually he sets his bag down on one of the chairs and plops down beside his boyfriend, “who’s this little guy?”

“Little girl and this is Charlie,” Tommy answers staring in amazement when Charlie sniffs at Bucks hand instead of curling up like she normally does. “I got her a couple weeks after the mistake. My therapist said I needed somebody to talk to and I always wanted a hedgehog as a kid.”

“Well she’s adorable. I baked my feelings and you got a pet. How different we approached our break but I’m glad you had someone to talk to baby.”

🏷️ @rdng1230 @desert--moonchild @thecarrott @bangpop91 @sunnywithachanceofbi @cliophilyra

[elvensorceress]

Saturday snippet/Fuck it Friday

more omegaverse fun for beloved @chismosoeddie Eddie being homesick and Buck trying to make it better 🥰

@tizniz @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @chaosandwolves @xjeanmoreaux @mangonadaeddie @dangerpronebuddie @sergeantchenford @bekkachaos @glorious-spoon @sofa-king-lame @spotsandsocks @livinginsunnyhell @sazanahashi @damnikindaship @rainbow-nerdss @youreavicioustrollop @kejfeblintz @keynb @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove 💕

There’s a package on Eddie's doorstep when he gets home late. He can smell it even before he gets out of his car. Even before he opens it. The scent is sweet, vanilla-y, rich and golden. 

Like Buck. It smells like Buck. 

The box holds two batches of cookies, a loaf of beautiful sourdough, a soft fuzzy blanket, and an LAFD hoodie that has BUCKLEY embroidered on the sleeve. 

The cookies are amazing. He eats three immediately and it also miraculously helps his stomach. Then he puts on the hoodie, Texas heat be damned, and it’s so big. Hugely too big on him. Yeah, he’s smaller than Buck but not this much. Even Buck would be swimming in this. Maybe that’s why he passed it along? He had to have just worn it for the scent of him to be this strong. 

The scent is so strong. It’s so sweet and rich and it almost, almost feels like Buck hugging him. 

Why does wearing something Buck just wore (but gifted to him because he wore it?) feel so intimate? Why does it feel like love and magic wrapped around him? 

It is something mates do. People who choose to be chemically, emotionally, physically bonded to each other. They share scent marked items for closeness and comfort. But it is also something family members do when they have to be apart, and Buck is absolutely Eddie’s family. That’s all this is. Family intimacy. 

Eddie wraps his arms around himself and might like the overly large size of the hoodie. All the soft familiar material covering him so he’s enveloped everywhere in something that smells like Buck. He holds the baggy collar to his face and breathes in deeply.

Pleasant radiant soothing sweetness floods through his whole body. It makes shivers coast all over his skin and deep warmth pool in his belly. He might actually be able to sleep soundly like this. It’s such a relief. It’s so— he doesn’t have a word for it except soothing. 

He picks up the blanket and holds it to his face. It’s thin but a soft, fleecy material. Not too thick or heavy. Good for hot desert climates, maybe even during the summer. The smell on it is also so strong. As if Buck slept with it tangled around his body— maybe tangled around his naked body? For it to smell this heady? Before he stuck it in the mail for Eddie. 

An ache of homesickness hits him right through his chest. 

How could he leave everything? How is he going to make a home for himself and his son when all he wants is what he had to leave behind? 

He will. He did it before. It will happen. For now, he can breathe in sweetness and comfort. He can’t help but imagine— remember Buck’s arms around him. Buck melting all over him, draped around him, holding him so long and so tightly. 

No one has ever held Eddie that way. Like they can hardly bear to let go. He’s never been held the way Buck holds him. 

Eddie squeezes his arms around his own body and suddenly wants to cry. He’s fine though. He’s fine.

But. The thing is. 

This— the hoodie, the blanket, the taste of chocolate and cinnamon, the smell of spicy sweet vanilla-y Buck— it quiets the emptiness that’s been gnawing at Eddie’s insides. The haunting, absent nothingness when he tries to nest and make a new home for himself? It isn’t present anymore. Not when he can smell and feel Buck. Not when he can almost trick himself into believing that Buck is holding him. That Buck is with him. 

His phone lights up and Eddie quickly wipes at his eyes just so Buck doesn’t worry. He’s fine. Just— just missing his best friend. He misses having a home. And a family. 

Eddie still gives him a smile when he answers, “Hey, Buck.” 

“Hey! Did you get your care package? I got a notification that it was delivered. I tried to ship it to you as quick as it could get there. Figured you needed it.” 

Of course that’s what Buck did. Eddie bites his lip, and doesn’t want to cry right now. He so easily could. He wishes Buck were here. Actually, if he’s wishing for things, he wishes he and his son were back home and with their Buck and none of them ever had to be separated. 

Eddie tips his phone down so the camera will show his torso already swathed in Buck’s giant hoodie.

“Oh,” Buck says like he’s stunned. Or full of awe as if Eddie is a mythical, spectacular thing to behold. He’s not. He actually looks worn out and tired when he looks at himself. He doesn’t remember the last time he got even three hours of sleep in a row. But he is wearing Buck’s hoodie. And Buck looks at him like he can’t believe Eddie’s actually wearing the clothing that was sent to him. 

Is it such a weird thing? They’ve accidentally switched clothes before. Happens when you always do laundry together. 

God, Eddie even misses doing laundry now. What the hell is in the El Paso water these days? 

[oldbutchdanielcraig]

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 talented and wonderful @devirnis and @firehose118 <3 <3 <3

here's some helicopter crash (not to jinx myself but i THINK i'm almost done fr)

There’s the sound of fabric rustling, and then blue eyes meet Tommy’s, pinning him in place like a skewer through the chest. He doesn’t say anything as Eddie wheels him closer— can’t say anything when Eddie parks him in the space Howie and his chair had previously been inhabiting.  A slow woozy smile spreads across Evan’s face, his eyes hazy. “Hi— hey, Tommy.” His words are slurred, running together at the edges.  “He got out of surgery a couple hours ago— he’s still a little out of it.”  He thinks Howie is directing the information at him, but Tommy can’t tear his eyes away from Evan. There’s dried blood in his hair. It’s not much, a few strands behind his ear, a few more at his temple. It’s leagues better than the slick of wet red that had covered nearly half of Evan’s face when he first woke up after the crash. But still, just the reminder of it makes Tommy’s stomach twist into painful knots.  Before he’s even conscious of the decision, he’s reaching out to twist a rust stained curl between his fingertips, mindful of the bandage taped to Evan’s forehead. It feels wrong that so much blood came from something small enough to be covered by just a pad of gauze. Evan hums, eyelids fluttering shut as he turns his face into the meat of Tommy’s palm.

no pressure tagging:

@holdmygum @princessfbi @homerforsure @laurenttheninth @honestlydarkprincess

@diazsdimples @try-set-me-on-fire @iinryer @thequeenofcarvenstone @eddiebabygirldiaz

@shyaudacity @underwaterninja13 @father-salmon @giddyupbuck @monsterrae1

and anyone else who wants to post something!!

[loulou-land]

Fuck it Friday!

Thanks for the tag! @cliophilyra 😘❤️

Most of my WIPs are a mess at the moment, but this one is sorta moving along. So here’s a snippet of my rockon multi-chapter fic (chapter 2):

Rocker had been on his best behavior for the first few hours of the trip, staying silent and focused, constantly watching their surroundings. But now that the number of things he needed to watch for had decreased, a restless energy started to settle in him.

His eyes drifted to Deacon again, drawn to the strong set of his shoulders, gaze trailing over them before tracing the line of the man’s forearms, catching on the subtle flex of muscle as he gripped the steering wheel with confidence. Even his hands—calm, steady—held a quiet authority. He thought of the feel of them when they clapped him on his back—warm—or when they gripped his own hand after a sparring session—rough and sure.

Rocker tore his gaze away, swallowing hard as he turned to glance out the window instead. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t some starry-eyed rookie anymore. He’d been working alongside Deacon for years now, where the hell had this sudden hero worship come from?

(Just Rocker being thirsty for Deacon and not knowing why 😌 silly boy)

Tagging (no pressure):

@littlepaws9 @paperyowl @spicycinnabun @typicalopposite @wikiangela @demonvampire180writes

[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.”

[local-eldritch]

Happy FFWF Valentines!!!

I saw @joyful-soul-collector was sending valentines day themed asks. And it reminded me a lot of my fic that I wanted to post a snippet as like a Valentine's day treat. Because the word "Partner" in the context of Jayvik is well, yknow. (Somewhere in the distance my beta reader, who shall not be summoned for I too fear god, is yelling at me that "no, they don't 'y'know'", y'know?) Anyways, the blurb:

Their hands tangle around the rune and Jayce memorizes the feeling of Viktor against him. Whispers partner, partner, partner into the space between. Existence and nihility join at their fingertips and burn outwards in cold and blazing heat. They are ephemeral and eternal, a contradiction of paraconsistence. Jayce is not so proud to say that he isn't afraid, but with Viktor against him even death feels gentle. He wishes he had held him like this before. He wishes for a lot of things, but that above all else.

[gotthat-lightwood-bane]

🪻Friday Fic Bit🪻

Rafe smiled widely, “Dad, tell us the story of why you call Bakpak ‘my eldest curse’ again”

“Oh please, Dad! It’s my favourite” Max said, any hint of teenage petulance vanishing.

“When I found out he was the eldest child of one of the Princes of Hell (and the oldest of all The Eldest Curses) I knew it was because your Bakpak was so compassionate and kind and looked out for others, and that those others looked out for him in return. The reason your wonderful Bakpak has survived so long has nothing to do with great power - although he does wield powerful magic - it has been his empathy and his willingness to go beyond the reaches of anyone else in order to save others…” he said with a chuckle, and then paused before he smirked a little, “Plus he has cursed me for the longest of anyone”

He felt a napkin hit the side of his head and turned to see his husband scowling at him, albeit fondly.

“I believe Jace is your eldest curse, and you are unfortunate enough to be bound to him through runes”

“Rune. Singular” Alec clarified, pointing his butter knife for emphasis as he paused the preparations of his toast.

“Yes yes, my angel, I know” Magnus said and patted the side of his husband’s face lightly.

[wickerwax]

On the tip of my tongue snip (Quinobi)

I SWEAR I AM GETTING THERE (we've hit 15k. Idk man.) BUT WE ARE GETTING THERE AND IM BASICALLY HEALTHY ITS ALL FINE OKAY

Quin spluttered a laugh, “Are you threatening the safety of my clothes? To make a point to a toaster?”

Obi-Wan was perfectly capable of mimicking a species with twice the limbs when it suited him, and wound Quinlan all up in himself. Rubbed his heel affectionately along the back of Quin’s thigh in a way that did make him wish rather desperately to not be wearing his pants. “Threat is such a harsh word, Quin, I’m suggesting. For the quartermaster’s sake.”

“Maybe you should suggest more bluntly, Obi,” he said, and paused to let suspicion flutter in that ridiculously soft frown, let his smile turn wicked, “Hard to say no to you when you get crass for me.”

[azems-familiar]

chapter 5 snippet beneath the cut :)

At Martin’s command, she strips off the upper half of her armor and sits down on one of the beds so he can take a closer look at her injuries. She’d redone the bandages this morning, but he undoes them anyway, that same intent expression on his face. She can’t help the shiver when his fingers brush against her skin.

“What happened?” he asks, as he sets about cleaning the half-healed gash on her upper arm, and she shrugs her other shoulder.

“Honestly, my memories are pretty clouded,” she says quietly. The warm rush of his healing magic pours over the first wound, and she lets out a slow breath of relief. “I managed to get into their shrine to Dagon as an initiate. Mankar Camoran was there when they initiated me - he spoke, and I saw him wearing the Amulet, but he left the Xarxes behind. I could’ve tried to steal it then, but there were so many people watching - they would have killed me. So I completed the initiation, then snuck back in later at night.”

Martin sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers jerking slightly back from her arm and his spell stuttering a moment. “What did they ask you to do?” he asks. His voice is very serious.

“I…” Sorona looks up at him, at the almost-haunted expression on his face, and feels her stomach twist. “They had a man tied to an altar. I didn’t want…but they’d taken my weapons and armor, and I had to make a choice. So I…made it as quick and clean as I could.”

He closes his eyes, exhaustion sweeping across his face. “Akatosh have mercy,” he whispers. “Do you know what happens when a person is sacrificed to a Daedric Prince?”

“...no. I don’t know much about daedric magic in general.” She swallows hard; it’s difficult to breathe, suddenly. The look on his face is such a heavy thing.

“Mehrunes Dagon now owns that man’s soul,” he tells her, and nausea rises in her stomach. “It will be trapped in his realm eternally.”

“Oh.” She thinks, a little distantly, that she might be sick. He’d known, she’s sure - he’d been saying something about his soul as she struck him down, and she’d prayed for him- “Martin, I…”

“You had no way of knowing. I know.” He lets out a heavy breath. “And for the sake of our world, you made the right choice. That won’t stop me from mourning.”

“It’s personal for you,” she realizes, and he nods once. “Did you ever…?”

For a moment, he doesn’t speak at all, doesn’t even move, and she worries she’s crossed an invisible line - he had asked not to speak of it, after all, and now she’s gone and pushed, right after reminding him of the past he hates. There’s a faint tremor in his hand, she notices, if only for the way it brushes against her arm, too jerky to be the deliberate touches of earlier. Then he bows his head, gaze focusing entirely on the half-healed injuries again.

“Yes,” he says hoarsely.

She lets the silence that follows sit for a time. It’s clear Martin doesn’t want to speak further on it; instead, he finishes healing her arm, until all that’s left is a rough scar, then moves to the burn across her back. It’s hard to think of anything but that poor man, the panic on his face, the blood on her hands - the only other thing she has to focus on is the careful touch of Martin’s hands and the slow bloom of his magic as he works his way through her injuries, and even though she knows she shouldn’t, she does anyway.

It’s such a soft, almost tender touch, one she can’t quite help leaning into. She thinks he notices, because when he’s finished with her back, he brushes a finger against the nape of her neck, briefly, before he moves to the nasty slice on her ribs. “What happened once you took the Xarxes?” he asks then, and she struggles to drag her thoughts back away from that warmth. (How long has it been since…no, not a good path to go down.)

“I…had to fight against it,” she says, closing her eyes. They hadn’t been able to keep the gash on her ribs closed, with as hard as they’d been riding, and it hurts. Even the barest touch of Restoration magic is an enormous relief. “Someone must have seen me when I snuck out, because I was cornered in the shrine, and the door I was trying to take was locked. I couldn’t force it open with spells. Luckily I think most of the cult was still asleep, but I had to fight my way through many of them anyway…one of them cast some sort of life-drain spell on me and I’ve honestly felt- wrong ever since.”

“Sorona.” And isn’t that just the most pointed exasperated-healer tone. Her mother would be proud. “I needed to know that sooner, preferably. Such a spell could have dangerous and irrevocable effects.”

“I just need to rest,” she protests. “I’m not a fool, I know, but my body should recover naturally - and I can always take a potion to hasten the matter.”

“You need to study defensive spells before you leave the temple again.” His face is set, and though he doesn’t pull his hand away from her injured side, still channeling his spell, he sets his other hand on her knee, pointedly. “You prefer Destruction magic. There’s nothing wrong with that. But you have a habit of recklessly endangering yourself, and I’d rather not live in worry that the next time you come back from an errand I sent you on, you will be beyond my ability to heal.”

Sorona swallows, unable to look away, even though part of her wants to. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” she tries quietly. “I’ve only come back hurt the once.”

“And I’d rather it not happen again.” Martin lets out a frustrated noise, then shakes his head. “You handled the Mysterium Xarxes with your bare hands, barely escaped the Mythic Dawn with your life, and then apologized to me for not making an attempt you yourself called suicidal to regain the Amulet of Kings. I’m not a fool. You have nothing to prove to me, Sorona, especially not with your life.”

She opens her mouth, then shuts it again, unable to find the words to respond to that. He looks so- so certain, like he means it, like it’s true, and she doesn’t know what to do with that. Of course she has something to prove. She’s always had something to prove - that this was the right choice, damn what her parents thought, damn what her Captain thought, that she was good at this, that she belonged, that her loyalty wasn’t just for show. He might not see those shortcomings, but they’re there, her poor handling of the fighting in the shrine is proof of that. She has to be better. She has to make up for them.

“...please don’t make me give you an order as your future Emperor to prioritize your life,” he adds, after a moment, and the look on his face is so pleading she can’t help herself: she laughs. It feels like it jars something loose in her chest, and then she’s curling forward and pressing a hand to her eyes, because there’s unexpected heat behind them, even though there shouldn’t be.

“Okay,” she manages. “I’ll let you teach me defensive spells, if only to spare you from the weight of authority a little longer.”

It comes out more sincere than she’d meant.

[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

[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.

[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

[atevanfool]

Fuck it Friday

I'm going nuts, guys. I had to scour the tag to remember what the hell we called Friday writing shenanigan's. Anyway. Enjoy a small snipped of Expanding Chapter 9 if you care.

I don't want to give away everything I've already written but finding the perfect snippet to share is hard. ;-;

Expanding Chapter Master List

x-x-x

During the day, he does his school work wherever either man is working out of, or occasionally he hides away in his room. Things have changed in there a lot since his first months here. About two weeks ago, he found the bravery necessary to ask if he could paint the walls and they nearly cried with happiness, avidly agreeing.

Over the next week they made so many trips to the hardware store he was afraid he was losing his mind, but eventually they got it done. The wall behind his bed is now painted a solid dark green. Tommy said he should try making it a bit more lively, maybe, so he’d gone online and found some massive gold colored decals in the shape of palm fronds that the three of them strategically placed over the wall. Branson was weary at first, thinking it might be too much, but he’s in love with it now. A little smile appears on his lips any time he walks into the room. The other walls they painted a slightly less ostentatious golden yellow hue.

Of course they insisted on new bedding as well, and a new floor rug. Nothing matched anymore and despite not being fashionistas, their words not his, their family will have a fit if they don’t at least try. So, he picks out a comforter set that matches the wall and some lighter yellow pillowcases. Evan picked out two pistachio green throw pillows just so he’d added something. Branson adores it. Together they’d chosen an octagonal rug that’s various shades of green in different squareish shapes, none of them the same dimensions.

Then there’s the shelves. Tommy helped him add shelves around the entire perimeter of his walls, at least three tall, without explaining why. He’s placed about eight or so small hanging wall boxes at the head of his bed unevenly, but with intention. Within a few days, Branson was walking into his room to find various toy cars placed with care. Most of the shadowboxes were filled, and Branson zoomed in on one identical to the one his grandparents had first given him immediately. The first time he cried; bawled like a baby, making so much noise that Evan had come running and burst into tears himself. Branson wrapped himself like a koala around his foster dad and just let out all the pain he’d been holding in while the older man rocked him like a child.

[hippolotamus]

Tagged for Fuck it Friday by @jamespearce9-1-1 @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon my love @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @thekristen999 @callmenewbie @daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @watchyourbuck Thank you lovelies

I maintain it is still Friday somewhere so have some more kid date fic (prev snippets here)

“Well, Mama and Papa said dates are special. For people you care about.” He hesitates, the feeling of uncertainty swelling higher. “Is that wrong?” Her expression softens to an easy smile. “Not at all, mijo. You ask Evan for that date. But, let’s keep this between us for now. Let me take care of everything.” Relief floods his chest, sweeping into his limbs like a living thing that seeps into the very core of him. Still, he wonders about one thing.  “Does that mean I can’t tell Mama or Papa about hanging out with my best friend?”  This date business is becoming more complicated by the minute. Tía said it’s okay, but keep it between them. Why would anyone choose to do anything this confusing? Maybe it gets easier.  “Of course not! Perhaps just don’t call it a date to your parents. Now, let’s find out what is going to happen with Maria and Raul.” Pepa focuses on the television once more. She mumbles something under her breath about ‘Ramon being fragile enough’ that Eddie doesn’t think he was meant to hear.  He pushes the conflicting information about dates and secret keeping to the back of his mind, slurping the last of his mint chocolate chip as Raul spins Maria on the dance floor.

in the fuck it spirit i'm gonna tag people anyway (picture me making a very immature childish face right now because i'm so overwhelmed with the tired sleepies) @loserdiaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @fortheloveofbuddie @eowon @jesuisici33 @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz @shortsighted-owl @stereopticons @elvensorceress @spagheddiediaz @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @buddierights @the-likesofus @911onabc @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @steadfastsaturnsrings @weewootruck @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @statueinthestone @heartshapedvows