#friday wip snippet

[rwi-writes]

Friday WIP Snippet!

Is this a real event? well, I just invented now, so it could be? I just wanted an excuse to share this snippet from my wip Entangled 👾

Transcript:

"So you two are…" He said pointing at the two. "There aren't many words that truly encapsulate the complexity of our relation." Exo stated and Faer seemed to be agreeing with every word. "We are close friends, colleagues, partners, but our relation is not bound by society standards of romance and sexuality."

Yes, Exo and Faer are canonically in a queer platonic relationship <3 Happy pride!

[anto-pops]

MC: “You don’t need me to praise you, your ego is big enough as it is.” 

Sebastian: “That’s not the only thing that gets bigger when you praise me."

MC: “You’re such a dog.” 

Sebastian: “If you pet me, I’ll–”

SMACK

[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? 

[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

[ksbbb]

Fuck it Friday

Tagged by @hemlocksandfoxgloves @honestlydarkprincess

“I’ll make this quick.” Theo smiles, as he walks up to the table the chimera is strapped to, his blue eyes looking at him with a wide smile.

As if he’s been waiting for him to come.

“Please do.” The other chimera says, in a sing-song voice that creeps the hell out of Theo, but only because he was expecting a fight and not a willing participant.

“I will.” Theo holds the injection to the other man’s chest, the blue light of his eyes burning into a soft gold, and he has to be dreaming because there’s no way the dread doctors’ made him a literal copycat.

Not of Theo.

“Something bugging you?” The chimera gloats, his face still looking up at him, and despite Theo’s own plan to kill this guy he has to know if he’s right.

“They made you a coyote too?” Theo presses his hand into the table, not caring about the pain.

“Yes. Half wolf and half coyote. Was that a special thing reserved only for you? Oops.” The obnoxious chimera chuckles to himself, calling out Theo’s insecurity in a brazen attempt to deflect attention away from killing him.

@fruchtfliege @thiamsxbitch @thiamsalpha @mmoosen @wolfboy88 @maplesyrizzup @dreadful-doctors @cozy-writer @theoceanismyinkwell @chasing-chimeras @waterloou @thiamblogger @haven-of-dusk @johnsotherbastard @ashyjingles @slimeyslimeyballsack @morganasmissus @akirasstories

[cvntoid]

snippet... friday? :)))

((snippet from a project i'm working on))

You moan again, more, embarrassed at how fucking predictable it is - this person making you feel so good, and it’s not lost on you - the gentle mocking, the bait. What else are you gunna do but make all those pretty noises for him, moan and clench and take it?

“No,” you protest in a whisper. “No, I… I don’t –”

“You do. And you should. I want you to come apart,” he whispers. It gives you goosebumps, the way he says it, like there's something you’re missing. Some kind of joke being played on you - no. Not a joke. Some kind of… some kind of thing you don’t understand, something you’re missing as Jack works his thick knuckles into your cunt. He’s so slow, so methodical. He’s smirking as he pulls away to watch your expression, too much, too attentive. You flutter your eyelashes, close them, turn your head, but he remedies that immediately by taking his free hand to your face. He holds you gently, but it’s only for show - it’s impossible to explain how you know that. It’s prey-animal instinct, rinsing up through the murky depths. “Look at me,” he instructs softly.

And you so you do, helplessly, uncomfortably as he crooks his fingers and rubs. His isn’t a frenzied, hard finger-fuck – no. He’s gentle, thoughtful. This isn’t a main course. It’s just a tease, and he does it so fucking skillfully. 

“What are you scared of, hmm?” Jack levels you with his lidded, heavy gaze, eyes so dark. They’re almost completely black in this light, glossed over by… what?

“I’m not scared,” you insist. The sound of your own voice makes you cringe - you sound completely and utterly afraid and unsure. That couldn’t have been you - right? “I’m not.”

Jack smiles sweetly and pulls his fingers free, pushing them between his lips to suck them clean. He kneels, then, spreading your thighs, all those fingers spidering over them to grasp and dig in. It almost hurts as he spreads you apart like that.

“Brave girl,” he teases. “Very brave. How did I get so lucky?”

His words are kind, he sounds so polite and gentle, but watching him gaze up at you like that under his heavy lashes, the severe point of his nose, his smirk, his dead fucking eyes - he looks like an animal. For a fleeting moment, you recoil, almost like a jerk as you twitch back, and you realize with humiliation that you've imagined him biting into you like one. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asks. He’s so close to your core that you can nearly feel the vibration of his tone inside of your body. There’s a laugh caught in his throat, and for the life of you, you can’t tell if he’s teasing you or genuinely enchanted by your reaction, your fear. He watches you unblinkingly as he leans in to kiss your inner thigh, tongue darting out to taste your flesh. “Are you going to tell me you haven’t dreamt of this? Go on. Lie to me.”

.

@strang3lov3 how are you, sweet girl?

[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

[mythrilpencil]

Another spoilery late-plot scene from my WIP with Edge; takes place a few plot points before Rage Against the Void.

Word Count: 967

Lesson One: People First

———

The chamber was coming down. Fast.

Now that the Shard was dislodged from its circuit high above, all of the aether it had been channeling through the supports flanking every wall dispersed in an instant. Metal screeched and stone growled as gravity pulled against the ancient structure.

“Get the Shard!” Ayaan called out over the din.

Edge and Ayaan ran. For a human, Ayaan was fast. But Edge was faster. Trained on the Shard, he dashed across the chamber, dancing across the giant slabs of stone even as cracks snaked through them and the flat floor became a shifting obstacle course. Some went sideways. Some  fell into the depths below. Some jolted upwards, no longer weighed down by circuitry beneath them.

The Shard hit the floor with a crack and a pulse of loose aether. The storm it held within its crystal shell started to flicker through the cracks. 

Almost there…almost—

A metal pillar fell behind Edge. Ayaan shouted.

Edge glanced behind him. Then slid to a stop.

Ayaan was several slabs behind him. And was now pinned beneath a metal pillar.

Edge called out, “Ayaan!”

Another crack of stone and screech of metal pierced the air as another pillar fell. This one grazing the slab that the Shard had fallen to. That slab started to tilt.

Edge glanced back and forth between Ayaan and the Shard. 

Ayaan looked up from trying to pry himself free. From this distance, only the barest glint of his gold eyes pierced the churning dust. “What are you waiting for!?” he shouted, waving a free hand out at Edge, “Get the Shard and get out of here!”

Edge looked back at the Shard. Another crack split its crystal shell; another wisp of angry aether licked through the air like a snake finally freed from a cage. 

What would Zenith do?

In Edge’s moment of hesitation, the slabs between him and Ayaan collapsed. Ayaan’s slab started to tilt, weighed down by the metal pillar and teetering on the frail support beam underneath. 

Edge tore his focus away from the Shard. 

Lesson one: people first.

Edge raced across his slab and jumped. From slab fragment to slab fragment he leaped.

But that still didn’t get him close enough to Ayaan.

He was running out of time.

Help me out here, Sparkles, Edge demanded, You said I teleported before; how do I do it again?

<<All I know is you traveled as an Aether Stream, which is how I noticed you in the first place. I’m interested to see how you do it consciously.>>

Edge growled. Real helpful.

All he perceived from the void in his mind was an equivalent of a shrug. Fine then.

Edge scanned everything around him. The ground kept shifting and shaking as more and more slabs collapsed. 

His scans picked up on flows of aether, released by the now-defunct circuitry in the metal pillars. An angry storm of waves flowed outwards from the Shard. Some magnetized towards Edge’s core. And the more he noticed those waves, the more aether followed them towards him.

Edge focused on that aether flow, and focused on Ayaan prying himself free from the metal pillar. The aether traced his focus like metal wires tracing Vidya’s will, snaking between him and Ayaan.

“Traveled as an Aether Stream”, huh?

Edge mentally pulled on that aether flow, dipped into the void in his subconscious, and directed the flow of his own aether in his systems outwards. His core’s thrumming crescendoed.

GO!

He jumped forward, and for the space between seconds he didn’t exist.

Then he landed on the edge of Ayaan’s slab.

Ayaan’s head snapped up. “Wh—How—!?”

Edge didn’t answer; he just started shoving at the metal pillar pinning Ayaan in place.

“Edge! What are you doing!?” Ayaan demanded.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Edge snapped back, grimacing as he kicked and kicked against the pillar. Slowly it started budging. But it wasn’t budging fast enough.

Edge summoned his crossbow and started shooting at the weak points in the pillar. The metal warped and bent. Finally it started to bend away from Ayaan.

But the shocks of Edge’s efforts rocked the slab. Stone grated against stone as the slab tilted past a critical angle. And started slipping.

Ayaan pushed against Edge’s leg. “What are you doing, you idiot?! Go get the Shard!”

“No!” Edge bent over and shoved at the pillar.

“Listen! I’m done for! Go—”

“No! No one is dying here! Not in my unit, not on my watch!”

Edge shouted as he finally shoved the pillar away. The metal screamed against his effort, but its screams faded beneath the din as it rolled off the tilting slab.

The slab rocked. Edge barely kept his balance enough to grab Ayaan before they both could fall.

Edge snapped his focus to the Aether Streams again. He latched onto the closest flow, and pulled his own aether and on the faint signal he could sense from Ayaan towards it. 

Out. They needed out. Somewhere higher up, somewhere safer.

There! A ledge about halfway up the wall, where a bridge across this chamber once connected. The aether flow Edge had latched onto snaked up towards the ledge like a stray current in a river.

Edge pulled Ayaan up, and despite the cry of pain from his core, he leapt upwards as he connected with the current.

They both landed on the ledge, collapsed against the stable stone. 

Ayaan levered himself up to his elbows first, gasping. “What—How? Why?”

Everything in Edge’s systems, down to the finest micro fracture, screamed as his frame shook and his core raggedly pulsed. Damage reports and overload warnings pelted his subconscious. He gasped for breath. But between gasps he squinted at Ayaan and repeated Zenith’s words, “Lesson one…people first.”

———

For this week’s prompt courtesy of @flashfictionfridayofficial!

Tagging: @jacqueswriteblrlibrary

[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

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

Hate is a Strong Word

I haven't been very active on here because of burnout and being in a bit of a creative drought and I've been trying to go easy on myself and let myself rest. But I do have a humble offering of a cute little snippet with Raven and Sapphire and some silly banter in early Sleeping Beauty's Bodyguard, with Sapphire airing out her frustrations a bit :). Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial !

Wordcount: 516

Warnings: none, just cutesy fluff and silly early relationship banter here

While they sat at one of the side tables at the tavern and inn, Raven looked over the map and tried his damndest to keep Sapphire from drawing too much attention or attracting trouble.

Sapphire huffed, “I’m restless, I can’t sit still for long-”

“I know,” Raven said in a low voice, hoping nearby tables wouldn’t hear, “Just a little longer, alright, prin-”

Her face lit up. “You can’t call me that out here, can you?”

Raven bit his tongue, finally grumbling, “Yes, I can’t. No one can know who you are…”

A gleeful smirk crossed her face, “So?”

He sighed, and said, “Sapphire. I know you’re restless, just try to tap your feet or something, alright? I just need a little longer to study this map.”

She tapped both her feet and hands for a few moments, then asked, “So where are we going? How much farther?”

Raven tried not to sound too exasperated when he sighed, “I need to take you to the Secret Palace on the other side of the Feather Forest, near the Dryklan border. It will be a long journey, even on horseback. Especially since we’ll need to avoid people as much as possible and try to take our journey through the deeper forest.”

Sapphire slumped back in her seat with a defeated sigh, “Right… Secret Palace, where I’ll be in a small cage for the rest of my life, or until my father and stepmother both change their minds.”

He shrugged, “Well no, you’ll have the whole secluded palace.”

She huffed, “But I’ll be locked inside.”

Raven hesitated before saying in a soft tone, attempting a joke, “It won’t be all bad, you’ll have me.”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh yes, my bodyguard, who's a fun killer and very determined to do his job, will be keeping me company in the palace I’ll be locked up in. I can’t wait.”

He folded his arms, giving a halfhearted glare, “You don’t actually mean that, do you?”

She shot him a halfhearted glare right back across the table, “Do you think I was being passive aggressive?”

“You have that look on your face when you’re upset, unless I’m mistaken.” He started folding up the map and tucking it away, “I’m starting to think you hate me.”

“Hate is a strong word,” She said. After a minute of watching the other customers in the tavern, she said in a small voice, “It’s not you I hate. It’s everyone else trying to lock me up. You’re just doing the job my father pays you for.”

Even though she’d just said she wasn’t mad at him, Raven felt a pang of guilt deep inside him. He thought about the route he’d plotted out on the map, before saying softly, “Well, it will be quite a long journey to get there. You won’t have to worry about it until we get closer. We’ll take our time, better to be safe than sorry.”

She looked up from picking at her fingernails briefly to him. She didn’t say anything, but he could’ve sworn he saw a flash of gratitude in her eyes.

FSF Taglist: @rose-bookblood @chalcid @evethenovicewriter @writing-is-a-martial-art 

@mjjune @fiercely-raging-writer @wildswrites @corishadowfang 

@surroundedbypearls @serenanymph (send me a message to be +/- from the taglist <3)

General Taglist: @enchanted-lightning-aes @thatprolificauthor @wip-nook @writeblrsupport 

@outpost51 @dustylovelyrun @thelaughingstag @jacqueswriteblrlibrary (send me a message to be +/- from the taglist <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.

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

I love them

[space-writes]

friday kiss tag

tagged by @oh-no-another-idea, thank you! it’s a wednesday but who cares, i made Sorrow and Vren kiss at last and it’s time to celebrate that fact. im posting the entire scene because! im insane about them and i’ve waited like 2+ years to finally write an Official Draft of this part

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

Sunset in Infernus came on in a blaze of purple and orange and red. With clouds scudding the sky, it made the city look as if it had been set aflame, the dark spires of the strange buildings burnt amidst the fire. Vren watched the night creep blue overhead from Sorrow’s balcony, still unsettled by the redness of the stars surrounding the three moons; the smaller two were waning, thin, faint slivers either side of the full and watchful eye of the larger third.

“Legend has it they’re the eyes of the Archdemons,” Sorrow said. He was leaning against the doorway that lead back to his room, arms crossed over his bare chest. He wore even less clothing here than he had in Valloroth—given the heat, Vren couldn’t even condemn him for it.

“The moons?”

“The stars.” Sorrow came to join him at the balustrade, leaning both forearms atop the rail. “The red ones, at any rate. Glaring down, watching and judging and resenting a current lack of physical form. Presumably also seething at having to watch their own bodies rot.”

That infernii legend Vren did know. Red had told him about how they’d supposedly killed their own gods, the Archdemons that had once enslaved them. How Naazgarash was built atop those dead gods, and how foolish the Naazgarans were for continuing to live there.

“And the silver ones?”

“Oh, those are just stars.”

Vren huffed a laugh, then wondered why he had. Sorrow was no more amusing than he’d ever been, though he was marginally less irritating of late. Most likely it was the pain, Vren thought. Hard to put effort into being an aggravating bastard when you were one bad day away from a debilitating headache that would knock you down so intensely you’d likely beg the person you’d pissed off to end you.

There’d been one day like that in the time they’d been stuck here. The first time he’d gone into Sorrow’s room, in fact, searching for him to demand—again—a way home. A few hours after that conversation, Sorrow had been dead to the world in agony, and spent the next twenty hours locked in his room in the dark. He’d emerged with a spring in his step that even Vren could tell was artificial, and gone right back to acting his usual self.

“You do know that keeping me company won’t make me find you a way home any faster,” Sorrow said. Vren glanced at him. He was closer than he’d expected, their arms almost touching. Vren shifted away.

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Why else are you up here?”

“Maybe I’m making sure you don’t throw yourself off the building because your head hurts, thus trapping me here indefinitely.”

Sorrow laughed, and shifted into his space again. Now their arms were touching; skin to skin, because the heat of this place had him with his sleeves rolled high. “My head is perfectly fine, k’zat avrai.” His eyes shone, glittering cyan. “How is yours?”

“Fine.”

“You sell yourself short, I think,” Sorrow said. “I’m certain it’s excellent.”

“What?” Vren said, then frowned as Sorrow laughed again, tail flicking side to side.

“Oh, little ghost, do they not teach innuendo in the Zarahmin? Or do they call it something different in your tongue?” He emphasised the last word in a way Vren didn’t trust, and which had Aliyne’s words suddenly echoing in his head. There’s absolutely nothing here you’d want to stay for. He pushed them away. Sheer idiocy.

“If you’re talking about sex, talk about sex. Don’t couch it in pointless wordplay.”

“But the wordplay is the best part.” Sorrow’s hand touched his, and then slid up his arm, wrapping warm around the crook of his elbow. “For one thing, it limbers up one’s mouth rather well.”

Vren’s mouth was dry. Sorrow’s was all painted lips and sharp teeth and insinuating smile, and the smirk it shifted to said he’d seen where Vren’s gaze had drifted to for that handful of seconds. He tugged Vren’s hand from the balcony rail, stepping closer so they were almost chest to chest.

“I want nothing to do with your mouth,” Vren said.

“Are you certain?” Sorrow’s voice had dropped to a low purr. The few inches he had on Vren now seemed entirely too many, allowing him to loom much too effectively, taking up all of Vren’s eyeline. He also seemed to have stolen all the air from the balcony, and Vren could feel the points of his claws digging into the skin of his arm.

“Why?” Vren asked.

“Because I’d rather like to have something to do with yours,” Sorrow said. He slid his grip to fit a palm around the back of Vren’s neck, which set his spine tingling, screaming threat-threat-threat, and his thumb started towards his ring but, as if sensing the movement, Sorrow caught his wrist and lifted it to his mouth—he didn’t lay his lips on it, but let the heat of his breath ghost across the skin.

Vren wanted to pull away. He didn’t. “What makes you think I’m remotely interested in that?”

“You’re not stabbing me yet,” Sorrow said, and the look on his face said that was another innuendo, which made Vren sincerely think about actually stabbing him, which in turn brought him to the terrible realisation that he hadn’t been contemplating it until then. “You’re as stressed as I am,” Sorrow continued. The point of his tongue darted out, flicking over the crease at the base of Vren’s palm. “Have a little fun with me, take the edge off. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You’re not paying me for sex.”

“Of course not—I’m asking you for sex.” They really were chest to chest now, Sorrow’s hips flush to his. “So, what’s your answer, little ghost? Yes?” The hand on his neck slid up, fingers tangling into the loose tail his hair was tied in. “Or no?”

The scant space left between them thrummed the way the air did between Vren’s knife and a neck in the seconds before the former met the latter in a sharp and finite ending. When a blade got that close, you were already past the point of no return.

“Fine,” he growled, and wrenched his hand free of Sorrow’s grasp to pull him down into a kiss. Sorrow laughed into his mouth, biting at him immediately, claws digging into the back of his neck. Vren shoved him backwards until he hit the wall, skin prickling everywhere Sorrow touched it, and a part of him—small and long-ignored—wanted to weep in the confines of his skull. How long since anyone had touched him outside of trying to kill him? Oh, he’d taken care of physical needs before, but that had been in Zarahmin brothels, with men and women as attractive and skilled as their profession required, where they’d done everything just as he’d paid for. It was like eating, like sleeping, like bathing; a part of life that had to be tended, to keep his body running undistracted.

Sorrow’s teeth clicked against his, his hands too rough, his tail an unfamiliar addition to an already unbalancing situation. It wasn’t professional, but it felt good in a way Vren didn’t want to think about, so he didn’t. He pulled and pushed at Sorrow until they were in his bedroom, and Sorrow grinned as he tumbled down onto the pile of pillows and blankets that served as his bed.

“Shut up,” Vren said pre-emptively, tugging his shirt over his head. “And watch the claws.”

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

no-pressure tagging @foxboyclit @viscerawrites @cwritesfiction and @ceph-the-ghost-writer

Valloroth taglist: @cherrybombfangirlwrites @reininginthefirewriting @memento-morri-writes @foxboyclit @lawful-evil-novelist

@at-thezenith @morganwriteblr @fayeiswriting @serenanymph

@sam-glade @viscerawrites @thegreatobsesso @flower-reads @the-inkwell-variable (ask to be +/-)

[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

[the-flaming-nightmare]

Thank you for the tag, @actualalligator! 🧡

Here's a snippet from Day 9 of Regressuary:

Malcolm exhaled a heavy, exhausted sigh and ran a hand down his face as he climbed up the stairs to his apartment.

It had been a long day at the precinct. The case the NYPD had been saddled with over the past week had finally come to a close today, leaving everyone who worked it practically running on fumes by the time they made it back to the station for debriefing. Gil, Dani, and JT were the only ones who ended up staying behind to finish up their reports.

Malcolm had attempted to stay behind with them to help, but Gil was adamant about him going home, especially since he knew (y/n) was currently staying with the younger man. He also told Malcolm that it would good for him to take a few days off to just unwind and relax and be taken care of. And much as Malcolm had wanted to refute and say that he didn't need it, even he couldn't deny that he could use some downtime with (y/n) looking after him while in headspace.

It had been far too long since they'd last had some quality mama/baby time, anyway.

Tagging (if you wanna): @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard, @thegoeticcleric, @phantomhiveroyaltea, @anewkindofme, @laneybishop89, @nottapossum, @autisticalastor, @otpcutie, @snarkythewoecrow, @pibsboots, @tomwise, @reaperlight, @deevotee and anyone else who wants to join!

[lilarus]

WIP Wednesday

(even though it's Thursday for me now)

Thank you to the amazing @illumiera for tagging me~

This is just a small snippet from my fic's next chapter (chapter 4).

With Haev's insistence that they weren't needed, Sirestia found themself at a loss for what to do. Staying in the village only offered them so many available options and they didn't want to stray too far from the children, but perhaps they should.

"What are you going to do today, baba?"

"I am still unsure, baby girl. What suggestion do you have for me?"

"I think you should explore the island a little more!"

"Should I?"

"Yes! And don't worry about us, I don't think the village will do anything to us now."

"If you are sure, my lovely."

Raseyl nodded enthusiastically, her ears bobbed up and down as she hummed.

"Pick a place on the map and I will venture there," Sirestia grabbed a map of Solstheim out of their bag, unwrapping it before laying it down on the table.

"Here."

Raseyl placed a pale finger slightly southeast of Raven Rock, they raised their brows.

"So far away?"

"I think you should maximize your time away, though there's no doubt you'd make it there in something like an hour."

"My own child wants to get rid of me!" They exclaimed dramatically, raising a hand to their forehead. "Oh, the pain!"

"Baba!"

The two laughed and she grabbed them, giving them a little shake. Raseyl wrapped her arms around them tightly, only loosening when they placed a kiss or two on her hair.

"I know you've been really bored recently so I want you to have a little time outside. And I know you're not really enjoying your time here so maybe something good will come of it."

"Thank you, baby girl."

I don't really talk about it on here much, if like at all, but you can find my fic below !

Tagging @firebastardextraordinaire and @out-of-mana and anyone else who would like to :>