#paragraph snippets

[seoguruatlantaofficial]

Exploring the types of featured snippets reveals their role in enhancing search engine visibility and improving user experience. This article covers the distinctions between snippet types and explains their significance for content optimization. Read more at https://www.seoguruatlanta.com/blog/understanding-the-different-types-of-featured-snippets/.

[akindplace]

sometimes you just have to try to believe you did the best you could within your circumstances, and to slowly start forgiving yourself for beating yourself up because you weren’t perfect. sometimes the ere are things that you cannot change and cannot control. that doesn’t mean you’re a failure for not being able to control something uncontrollable.

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[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

[neon-kazoo]

So uhhh

You may or may have no just posted The Perils of Drugging your Nemesis like less than 24 hours ago buttttttt

Part 2????

Love ur work!!! :D

Part Two! Part One here.

Hero was not a happy camper when they finally awoke. Really, Villain couldn’t expect them to be. It had been hours since they were brought to the lair, hours in which Villain had watched their every labored breath. Medic had mentioned something about the sedative being a depressant and affecting the lungs—Villain didn’t really know. All they knew was that using it was a mistake, one that they would not be making again.

“You…drugged me?” The hero asked sluggishly, residual muscle weakness making a mockery of their attempt to scowl.

The villain gripped their hand, the one with the oxygen monitor attached. They glanced at the number, making sure Hero was still in a good place before they answered. Above 90 Medic had said, and Villain was able to reassure themselves. Hero was doing okay.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” the villain chuckled, a little breathless themselves. The past few hours had been stressful, to say the least. Villain ran their hand through their hair for what felt like the millionth time, and they winced as they released the grease was going to warrant a shower.

“Tss alright,” Hero mumbled, dropping the disapproving look and relaxing their face. “I really needed a nap.”

That time, Villain laughed a little louder.

“Well, I’m happy I could help with that.”

The smile slowly faded from the villain’s face as the Hero started to groan. A pained look had decended upon their face. They were trying to sit up, so the villain slid a hand under their back to support them.

“Woah, slowly.”

The hero took a moment once they were fully up. Villain couldn’t help but notice how weak they looked, swaying slightly and squinting like they couldn’t quite keep their eyes open.

“Water?” The hero croaked out.

Villain rushed off to fulfill the request before they could think twice about leaving the hero alone loose in their lair. They returned, full cup in hand only a minute or two later.

Hero took the cup, whispering a thank you as they went to drink. Their hand shook, and a small amount spilled into their lap. Wordlessly, Villain wrapped their hand around the Hero’s and brought the cup up to their lips.

Hero drank, their eyes downcast as they gulped their way out of dehydration. Once they were done, the enemies sat in silence for a moment. The hero crossed one arm over their chest and hooked it with the other, stretching their muscles while Villain dutifully avoided eye contact by glancing around the room.

It was a lounge room, and Hero sat on one of three couches, this one located in the center of the room. A cozy room, as far as lairs went, not one they would normally allow anyone but themselves into. Usually, the security of their base was paramount, prisoners only ever getting to see their cell and an interrogation room, nothing else. They did everything they could to keep their plans and the mission in tact.

Funny how priorities change.

Villain slipped away around the corner to call Medic, even though Hero insisted that they were fine. Something squeezed at their chest, and Villain could only interpret it as a warning about the health of their guest. Medic said they were on their way, but relief didn't flood the villain as they had expected it to.

It just…wasn't natural. For them to care like this.

They lingered in the doorway for just a moment after hanging up. This time it was their own troubled breathing they noticed, their own heart racing in their chest.

Maybe Medic needed to check them out too.

[woobiedoovo]

Stan was in love once, forty or so odd years ago, when he was just a boy who didn’t even know what love was.

At that age, love was the person who made you smile. Love was the person who you’d wake up to every morning. Love was the boy whose glasses always slid down his nose because they were one size too big. Love would hold Stan’s hand in his as they dreamed about sailing around the world.

Love, as he got older, got more complicated. Love became something he’d toss and turn to at night, afraid that when he closed his eyes he would see the boy who still meant the word love. Love, as he got older, seemed to slip between his fingers. The harder he held on, the more it seemed to fade.

Love, it seemed, didn’t love Stan the way he loved it.

Love was harsh and cruel, yet he still loved it. To others, love was something soft and warm. But to Stan, Love was something he couldn’t imagine, not anymore. Love was far away, on a long abandoned swing set, telling stories about pirates, treasure, and adventure. Love was something between two boys whose dreams were just that, dreams.

Stan was in love once.

[gossippool]

i was gonna make a personal poolverine headcanons list because other people were doing it too but i realised my fics already have most of them so. here are some of my headcanons in fic snippet form. some contradict with others and some i don't even think are necessarily true but it's fun to experiment

people have said this before but logan fights wade because he sees himself in him (or because he realises that he actually doesn't and he hates that)

wade knows about and feels the (emotional and psychological) effects of all his other variant selves (and everything else if he tries)

logan's heightened senses gives him synesthesia

logan doesn't actually like violence/fighting/blood during sex or like ever. it's just an unhealthy addiction that started from him killing all those people that he snuffed with alcohol but revived with wade, and a way to take his anger out on (someone like) himself

with regard to wade's chronic pain slight p pressure on his skin hurts more and in a worse way than sharp pains like getting stabbed

[galaxoshine]

mid story line tag

10 lines from the middle of 10 fics & tagging 10 people

thank you for the tag @the-invisibility-bloke (here), @thecouchsofa (here), @shoopsthereitis (here), and @blackstargazer (here), all of your lines are absolute bangers <3

Come home (to me)

Saxon’s mastered three things in his life: talking bullshit, getting pussy, and ignoring the deep gut stirring in his stomach when he looks at his little brother.

Where there is a flame, someone’s bound to get burned

“Don’t know what?”

“If he had a point, I guess. If I’m not into guys out of sheer spite.”

Christ, Evan could really use a cigarette right now. Social inept as he is, he blurts out, “Want to suck my dick and see if that clears things up for you?”

I dreamed you into life

“Mr Black,” Remus whispers, connecting the dots. Regulus’ gaze snaps to him. “Oh fuck, Mr Black? That’s you?!”

“Repeating my name isn’t going to change the reality of things, Mr Lupin,” Regulus hisses, lips pressed together.

Remus’ cock twitches in his pants on instinct. “Please don’t call me that.”

“I’m still in the room, by the way, if you cared,” Teddy whines, hands over his eyes.

Blood rush

“I’m here to do my job, I’d rather not be thinking about your… medical, or pain kink, or whatever it is that turns you on.” Another groan slips out of those soft lips that sends a shot of heat through James’ body. “A needle, for fuck’s sake, you’re supposed to be scared of them, not turned on.”

Uncovering the myth

“They even glared at me, like I was being rude. Me.”

Posh pretentious arsehole. “You’re right, it’s not all rude to go and randomly ask private information about a guy’s genitals to his exes.”

Draco stares at him in disappointment. “Are you even gay?”

Harry groans, shoving his head into his pillow.

At his fingertips

James rolls his eyes, tugging on Sirius’ arm and bringing them to his car. “Having a kid will do that to you, and you know it. Besides, we’ll talk about this tomorrow when you can’t walk.”

Sirius huffs. “Think you got enough stamina left in you, old man? Wouldn’t want to go to sleep past your bedtime—”

“Fuck off and get in.”

“Well I’m trying but I might be too big to fit you know—”

Summer fever

A year since, I love you, in the quiet of a stolen summer night, and you can’t, amidst the crickets and the soft breeze of an upcoming thunderstorm. A year since she ripped her own heart from her chest and squeezed it dry, trying to get rid of the suffocating emotions, letting the blood taint her hands instead of letting it poison the love of her life, slipping from her grasp.

To be seen

“Your hands,” he mutters instead with a glare. “They’re annoying. I want them gone.” Inside of me, preferably.

Teddy’s eyes bulge. “I’m sorry—what?”

Pray for absolution

Harry’s always belonged to him.

But Sirius belonged to him, first. He gave up his heart for him, and swore to the woman who birthed him he’d always be there for him.

That love morphed, grew teeth, and a hunger that couldn’t be satiated with anything but consumption. Maybe if they’d both grown up less fucked up, they wouldn’t be here. But does it really matter?

no pressure tags : @microdamage @arviyya @lilacfiresoul @bluedahlia912 @starsworth @wolfpadx @xjustkay @1ficklesickle @hoko-onchi-writes @deepseagre3n

[vicsbasement]

3. Clingy Charles

For the ask game

me using the same tropes and scenes sometimes as a mechanism to get me to write? fork found in the kitchen - if y'all can pinpoint from which fic i took the scene with Charles barging into the office while Carlos was getting fired you get another snippet. Also it seems like Teto is a recurring character in these! It's just that he's been so present lately it's impossible for me to ignore him.

"Leclerc's been acting weird." Teto tells him, one day. Carlos is walking along with him towards the back of the house where the bikes are parked when he says the thing out loud. Carlos arches and eyebrow and turns to him, questioning silently and asking him to elaborate as he starts checking the bike’s tyres are in good shape.

"Haven't you noticed?" Teto asks, his curls swishing to the side when he tilts his head in a silent inquiry. "I know you don't watch things back or anything but ever since they announced... Well. Pretty sure it's from before, even, but ever since the thing went public he's been... I don't know how to say it." Roberto pauses again as they open the garage door and Carlos is already fidgeting with the bike's lock to unclasp it. Carlos nudges him to get his lock off, and Teto obeys for a second while he thinks as the garage door whirs in the background.

"Remember that day I went to the factory with you?" He asks instead, and Carlos nods. It was a couple days after the team called him and met him in private to explain the leaked information about them contacting Lewis. It was a terrible day. He remembers some of it, but the fact that Charles was at the factory stuck to him the most. They weren't supposed to even be there together, let alone meet, but Charles seemed adamant to see him and had barged into the office instead of waiting outside, like he was supposed to.

Carlos was accompanied by his usual posse, his dad, Caco. Teto was there because they'd been training together and since Rupert had left, Carlos missed the company.

When Charles had barged into the office, he seemed out of breath, and his eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Carlos couldn't really recall the last time he'd seen Charles cry, it had been too long, so he compartmentalized the whole thing as to justify the eyes with some other excuse, like allergies, because Charles was very sensitive to a plant that was very prominent in Italy and the pollen lifted during the winter, so he tended to have a bad time with sneezing and red-rimmed eyes.

"I mean, I remember. But I'm pretty sure that didn't mean much." Carlos says, sure that Teto meant the little display of emotion when he barged into the room.

Still, as soon as he had barged in, he'd bailed. He noticed that they were talking to Fred and Menkies, showered the room with apologies and bolted.

"I'm not talking about him barging in." Teto says, and Carlos now really is confused. If it wasn't about that, what was it?

"When we got out of the office, he— remember he asked for your dad's permission to take you out to eat?"

"Pretty sure he was just being polite, given that we were all there together and he was sort of breaking us up."

"Yeah, but... Well, okay, then, if you didn't notice that I don't know what to tell you. Still, have you watched the interview you guys did before Bahrain?"

"I watched it before they edited it." Carlos replies. And Teto's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he gets on his bike, still trying to make a point.

"You didn't notice how he physically recoils from the reminder that you're leaving?" He insists, and Carlos gets a little defensive because this isn’t really what he wants to be discussing right now, so he gets on his bike and whirs the pedals to fill the silence. Still, Teto nudges his shoulder so they both bike slowly towards the exit of the garage.

"Oye, Teto, ya está, ¿sí? Te estás pasando con lo de interactuar con las fans, tío. Qué coño le va a importar a Leclerc si me voy o no..." Carlos says, his tone final. Teto shrugs his shoulder cartoonishly as he takes the lead, moving swiftly out of the driveway.

"Oh, Carlos, you've got big eyes but not a good way to use them. You'll see. He's... I don't know. He's been different.” Roberto keeps searching for a word as he stops in the driveway to get his helmet on. “Changing. Like he's... Clingy!” He snaps his fingers victoriously. “That's the word. He's been clingy towards you. And he is like that sometimes but only when you start it. Now it's like he's... Craving it. I don't know, man."

"What the fuck are you saying, cabrón?" Carlos fights the urge to kick his shins as he puts his own helmet on. Sometimes when Teto gets an idea in his head its nearly impossible to convince him otherwise.

"Que Leclerc se va a dar una hostia de los cojones este año cuando se dé cuenta del compañero que está perdiendo, cabrón. Ya vas a ver." Teto grabs the handle of his bike, jumps back on it and starts pedaling in a soft pace, Carlos in tow.

"Huh. Well, okay, then. Let's... Start the season and see."

[aliferous-ly]

BigB knew he was in a death game. It wasn't like he wanted to lose - on the contrary, he strove to win. But, and this was a very Big But, he also strove to have a good time. Those two goals were not entirely cohesive.

So, Secret Life. Everyone had good reason to act like goofballs, since the tasks weren't reasonable actions in the slightest. BigB didn't need a slip of paper to act strange, and thus the BigB Hole was born. It caused suitable chaos.

With so much weirdness going around, it shouldn't have been a surprise that BigB was, well, surprised. Skizz and Tango asking him to join their group, living on a little island, was an unexpected drop in the bucket. He had a group! He had a squad!

The Heart Foundation was, as many charity organizations were, very poor. They didn't have a roof over their head. Instead of inviting them to his slowly-growing backrooms he lay down with them in the grass. Skizz and Tango both glowed softly, and BigB knew his eyes gleamed in the starlight, but nobody said a thing about it.

"Tomorrow we should build a house," Tango grouched.

"I'm workin' on it!" Skizz, who'd been collecting resources, said.

BigB laughed. "Yeah, I think it's supposed to rain tomorrow." He had no idea what tomorrow's weather would be like. Sometimes it was nice to just say things.

"Aw man, really?" Skizz said.

"I hate rain," Tango said.

BigB hummed. In short order the other two fell asleep - Tango snored like a chainsaw and Skizz made little mimimi noises, but BigB didn't mind. It was nice, actually. Better than eerie cave noises.

He turned on his side to gaze at them. Neither were particularly skilled at these death games. He shouldn't have been so delighted to team up with them, if he were dead-set on the crown.

They were fun, though. BigB grinned to himself and thought about the shenanigans happening server-wide. He still wanted to win and would try his best, but goofing around and confusing fellow players was just so fun, and this go-around was looking to be particularly exciting.

Sighing happily, BigB closed his eyes, mind whirring with possibilities for the days to follow.

[mari-lair]

Terukaneaoi request because I love that ship specifically with all my heart

On it!

[kalied0skull]

(it’s a little silly but here’s a section of the seven paragraph report I wrote in 45 minutes)

The town was sent into another frenzy, the children that had murdered someone in “cold blood” were heroes.

But heroism doesn’t save everyone.

Heroism doesn’t save everyone because it killed Johnny Cade, in a cold bright white hospital room. Heroism doesn’t save everyone because it killed Dallas Winston, bullets flying under the streetlight, a poor man’s spotlight. Heroism doesn’t save everyone because it fills caskets that we’re once empty and drains the hearts of one’s left behind.

Heroism doesn’t save everyone because it doesn’t exist.

There are no heroes and no villains. There’s only you, and then everyone else. Your world is shaped by your values and biases, you are not the hero, you are not the villain, you are you.

aaAAAARGHHHHHH .... YOU'RE COOKING ANON... OH MY GOSH.. ..

[on-leatheredwings]

me: man i barely write

me: [has so many wips i dont even know what to do with them]

so many scraps under the cut

you being yandere over dick (it was tim at first then i switched now i may make it jason i cannot lie, god bless)

(fem) you getting beat up and everyone is so worried yandere-ly <3

maybe co-conspirator prequel??

damian rescuing reader scrap of a request i never finished womp womp

baby trapping bruce request i also dropped but could go back to

[wikiangela]

several sentence sunday

so this is another fic I started on my vacation (I started three, and had one idea I haven't started yet lol - and one is already posted) - also, the two weeks here might change bc I'm struggling with the timeline (which doesn't matter but also it does lol) but I'll figure it out haha

(I'm still writing all my other wips btw, and gonna get to all the asks, but the writing beans have been gone lately, and I've been too exhausted lol - and my brain is so all over the place with my wips, idk what I wanna get to more)

___

Evan knows he’s in love with Tommy about two weeks into their relationship.

(...)

They still barely know each other, but Evan knows. He can’t explain why, can’t explain how, he just knows. Tommy Kinard is it for him.

The moment he realizes it with utmost clarity is nothing special, really. He just spent the night at Tommy’s – not the first one, but it’s still new enough to fill him with nervous, giddy excitement, butterflies swirling in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt in years before Tommy. Everything about Tommy makes him feel like this. Tommy’s eye-crinkling, nose-scrunching adorable smile; Tommy’s eyes, always so fond when he looks at him; Tommy’s lips that taste so amazing Buck never wants to stop kissing him; Tommy’s big, big hands that feels so good in Buck’s, those strong arms and broad shoulders… – just everything about Tommy. At first Buck thought it’s the newness of this, of Tommy, of knowing about his bisexuality. But he’s also gotten so comfortable with Tommy in such a short time, and it doesn't even really feel new anymore, he knows it must be just him, must be Tommy making him feel like a giddy teen with a crush. Except the way this feels… Buck’s a grown man with tons of experience, and he knows how infatuation feels, how a simple crush and attraction feels, how real love feels. And he knows, deep down in his core, in his soul, in his heart, that this is real, that this is definitely more than a crush. This is what love feels like.

___

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 @reformedplayerbibuck @spotsandsocks @bucked-it-up @theotherbuckley @drcloyd @bidisasterevankinard @tizniz @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @girlwonder-writes @perfectlysunny02 @dadbodbuck

[creampuffqueen]

he’s So Normal about her guys

[runawaymun]

As a Tolkien fandom writer you cannot give me a piece of fiction with Deep Lore and expect me NOT to pick it apart and then put it in my fics at every turn.

Also — banging pots and pans together WHY is there a severe lack of fics that make use of canonical shapeshifter “his true form is that of a star” Rex Lapis. My man is basically an elemental slime he’s gender-fluid he was there for the terraforming of all Teyvat hi I am here to contribute my obsession with Eldritch cosmic beings who can change shape at will 🫶