#res ･ﾟ snippet

[slowd1ving]

[INAMORATA] SNIPPET . *࿐ SUNDAY, MOZE, SOMEWHAT JIAOQIU??

more jiaoqiu and moze being a little creep, male incubus reader

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Of course you don’t end up stealing a kiss outside the building—Moze taking the opportunity to clean the bathroom obsessively while buzzing from the liquor, while you walk Jiaoqiu out. 

Of course you don’t mean to, but you’re drunkenly complaining of the professor for your statistics module, and he’s merely gazing. When the sun’s long gone to its slumber—and the only light available is the halo around your head from the flickering streetlamp—who can blame him for the way his eyes drink your pout in, the way he’s getting lost in the way you smell? Menthol cigarettes and something sweeter, something his nose picks up that could be caramel but could also thrum deep in your veins to intoxicate others. 

He cuts you off when it gets too much for him, right when you push your glasses up to continue to ramble comfortably. 

“—every lecture, I swear—mmph—” 

You swear up-and-down you weren’t planning this; you’re taken completely aback as he surges, pressing you up against the rough brick of the building. He’s warm, you think deliriously—with his hand cradling your cheek and his other nestled in the back of the loose pullover you’re wearing, you’re warmer than you’ve been in weeks. 

It’s not desperate, but you can feel the build-up of emotion behind it: taste the cherry on your breath, the tequila on his. Alcohol may have prompted this, but even a fool could savour the heavy yearning on his tongue. 

“Jiaoqiu,” you mumble, but he merely tilts your head, nipping at your slicked lips with an eagerness he only seems to display when it’s the witching hours. He’s shorter than you, yet tonight he’s the one caging you in an inescapable lock—so hungry, so avaricious and naturally, you oblige, raking your hands in his pink hair. 

You taste blood. You taste life as you feel his steady pulse against your body, lust as he groans and melts into your touch, desperation as he entwines his arms around you with the sole goal of pressing himself into you even further. 

You are equally insatiable, gradually feeling the vivid colours flow from his tongue onto your own. 

You are equally gluttonous, but your work isn’t going to finish itself and you’re quite a good demon, if you do say so yourself. 

You are equally voracious, and perhaps completely degenerate, yet still you wistfully and regretfully ease your lips from his—though your hands remain white-hot on his body. 

It’s enough energy to get through the rest of this day and then some. It’ll do. It has to do. 

“I’ll see you at the Film Festival,” he murmurs, but the two of you know the encounter between you both will be sooner—a clandestine encounter between sheets, in fact. 

He’s walking home, so you watch him disappear into the night—and when his small figure is swallowed up in the void space between street lamps, you watch a little while longer. 

Unbeknownst to you, someone else has been watching this entire time too. 

[laddertek]

etho said actually you _don't_ understand the intricacies of how tango is my boyfriend and bdubs is my ex

(and how tango and bdubs kiss too)

Scar: We went on that little adventure, you know! Etho: Yeah, yeah, we had our adventure, that's true, that's true. Scar: You disparaged your teammates. That's it, all right, no more spoilers. Etho: (laughs) Our team has -- our team has some weird dynamics this -- this season. Cleo: (overlapping) Really, Etho? Is there trouble in paradise? (pause) Who's third-wheeling with you, again? I can't remember. Etho: (laughs) Uhh. The -- Cleo: Genuinely can't remember. I know it's you and Bdubs. And...Tango? Tango. Tango. Etho: (loudly) Why -- Why is Tango the third wheel? Why -- why isn't Bdubs the third wheel? Cleo: Because it's you and Bdubs. I'm sorry. I understand how that relationship goes. Etho: (dissatisfied) Hmm.

[buildoblivion]

listen dracula is my favourite gothic novel for many MANY reasons, but the winner has to be the literal ghost ship with a desperate dead man tied to the wheel in eternal prayer

[jessunderstands]

Re: Zero Otome AU snippet

Snippet of an AU where Subaru ends up in an otome that he definitely doesn’t play

“Forgive me, but I can no longer hold my feelings back.”

Sunlight danced across Subaru’s cheeks as meadow flowers swayed in the gentle breeze. He looked back at his companion who had knelt into the grass, careful not to crush the flowers beneath them. Subaru’s eyes widened at the sight.

Wait. Wait, wait.

“For so long, I’ve felt this way about you.” The breeze brushed his companion’s hair out of their eyes, giving Subaru a full view of the glistening admiration in their eyes. The weight of their gaze was so heavy with fondness that Subaru wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it. Those weren’t the eyes meant for someone like him.

Hold on pause.

“I’ve grown extremely fond of you, Subaru.”

Please, wait a minute! This whole situation was wrong, totally wrong.

The red that overtook his so-called admirer’s face was lovely, comparable to that of rosy dawn. He almost wanted to burn the sight into his eyes, to close his eyes and forever see the flustered expression of someone who loved him. Almost. He would if not for the fact that—

“Please let me stay by your side forever, Subaru. I swear that I’ll protect and cherish you.” Reinhard’s slender fingers gently took Subaru’s hand and brought them up to his lips.

—If not for the fact that wasn’t this the sort of situation that girls are supposed to be in? A guy like Subaru isn’t the type of person whose hand should be kissed. It should instead be Emilia, beautiful and kind Emilia in this position. So why wasn’t she? Why was Subaru here in her steed?

Subaru’s face burst into flames. He reckoned the red on his face didn’t look as flattering on him as it did on Reinhard, and yet, the knight’s eyes crinkled into what could only be fondness.

Why was he the one being confessed to?!

[onesnoopyaday]

It's Charles M. Schulz's 102nd Birthday Today!

Snoopy #56

26/11/2024

Reference image under the cut :)

(source)

Also here is an interview snippet which I thought was interesting. I've never thought much about what his creative process might have been like. Also, I didn't realise that the panels he drew on were so much larger than what ended up in print. I mean, it makes sense, but I guess I always just assumed he drew up the squares exactly the way they looked in the end.

[setmeatopthepyre]

Family

[@118dailydrabble day 2] [part of my tommy begins snippets]

When the 9-1-1 operator asks him for his location and emergency, Tommy almost gives her his call sign first.

Being back has been... an adjustment.

He catches himself, tells her, “There's been an accident on 6th street bridge. Two cars.” Tries to make out shapes in the dark. “There's- there's a whole family in one.”

Realizes she's asking him something as he pries the driver's side door open. “What?”

Her voice gentles. “Your name?”

“Tommy.”

“Alright, Tommy. I'm Abby. Help is on the way. Were you in the accident?”

“No, I-” Can't begin to explain. “No, I just saw it happen. Abby?”

“Yes?”

“I don't think the driver's breathing.”

“Ok, Tommy. I'm going to talk you through this.”

[sewellsheart]

WIP WEDNESDAY

A little more Three of Wands as per usual 🥰

Tagging @nat-seal-well @grapecaseschoices @agentnatesewell @itsmistyeyedbi @wayhavenots @thee-morrigan and YOU!!

[rat-rosemary]

To come back to your arms, to lay warm once more

It's always odd to see Dream lounging like this, to find his God (because this is his God. No matter how much the castles scream and tear and twist, this is his God) laying on a sun beam, casually leaning against a rock.

When Karl read about other gods, when he heard people talk about theirs, they were always untouchable by mortals, living far away on their golden palaces. Not like Dream, with paws stained of dirt and scars. A being made of flesh and blood like any of them.

He wonders if those devouts can hear their gods' heartbeat.

"Are you trying to look poisonous?"

Karl snapped back into attention, focusing back on Dream's face from where his eyes had drifted to the God's... other features.

"What?"

"You have color splashes all over your back. Are you trying to look poisonous Karl?"

Did he? He hadn't noticed, but the in-between has a habit of trying to shove it's hands into Karl's form, trying to reshape him.

(Somewhere under the fog in his mind something shuttered, something that could remember screamed at the mere idea, at the implications. Karl was too tired to listen to it.)

He took of his black and white hoodie, walking to a nearby stream and looking at his reflection in the water.

Truly, there were splashes of color on him, looking like someone had violently slammed a paintbrush against his ribs.

"You don't look poisonous Karl. The colors are too muddied, they make you look sick."

Karl jumped. He hadn't noticed Dream getting up from his sunbeam and following him. That was two times that Karl wasn't paying attention and got startled, and from the look in Dream's eyes he hasn't pleased with that.

Oops.

"You did such a better job with your hair before, I don't know why you decided to change to this. The grey looks bad, makes you easy prey," Dream said, one of his hands sliding over Karl's scruff, covering the back of his neck, "let me fix it for you."

And then there was warmth flooding Karl's body, flowing into him from Dream like fresh blood as the other forced a transformation, shifting the form of his devout.

Karl felt cleansed. Exorcised of an evil that settled on him bit by bit, consuming him like a frog on boiling water.

Like waking up from a long terrible dream, like falling asleep in a warm bed after a long terrible chase.

Belatedly he realized there were tears sliding down his face as his mind cleared and sharpened, and it took a bit until he could see his reflection on the water of the stream again.

The ends of his curls were once more filled with color, less vibrant then he would personally have but such a relief after spending so long not realizing that they were gone that Karl's eyes almost blur once more.

The ugly muddy splashes across his skins have become a light brown pattern, just slightly darker then his skin, spanning down his back and on the tip of his nose like a deer's fur.

Karl laughs, desperate and fearful as all at once he feels all he has done, remember all he has forgotten, and as he feels Dream hesitantly pull his hand away Karl slams his own on top, keeping the God's hand in place.

"Karl?"

His laughter becomes maniac, his eyes closing as he curls up on himself. Shaking his head like he shake away the memories, turn everything he went through into a bad fever dream.

And then he starts sobbing, throwing himself into Dream's arms and praying that he will somehow hold him together when that being (because whatever the inbetween is, it is not a God. Karl will not give it that tittle) was trying to rip his devout away from him.

His prayers are answered and Dream pulls him closer, letting Karl hide his face on his shoulders as he sobs, the fur there growing wet in a matter of seconds.

Eventually, after what feels like eons, Karl feels himself calm, a natural exhaustion settling deep on his chest at the same time a pounding headache settles behind his forehead.

Distantly he realizes he has shifted once more.

He stops clutching Dream like someone will come drag him away, glancing down and finding colorful spots like confetti on his skin and ears floppy and long against his back as he takes shape of a rabbit, mimicking Dream's favorite form, his real true form, not the showy and impractical angel that he uses to scare away outsiders who expect something else of him.

Karl's eyes are heavy and this time he let's them fall with no fear of where he will wake up.

He is back home, in his den, safe from the claws of the hunt.

It's time to rest before the next day, before his next chase.

🐇¤🐇¤🐇¤🐇¤🐇

Inspired by this fanart I found on pinterest

The artists is @/mama gingerale but I can't tell you if they're from here or twt or if they're even active anymore

ALSO BTW IF YOU EVER SEE THIS I THINK THE MARKINGS ARE BEAUTIFUL SORRY FOR CALLING THEM UGLY AND MUDDY BUT ANGST

[slowd1ving]

[INAMORATA] SNIPPET . *࿐ SUNDAY, MOZE, SOMEWHAT JIAOQIU??

for some additional context reader is an incubus and also joined a class on catching/apprehending monsters in the modern world as a joke, but now is doing a project on said monsters (cough, incubi) thus is in a really fucking awkward position rn anyways this will probably be the last snippet before I actually post the work so enjoyy

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

“…edit it documentary style. It’s professional, organised, and will suit the Professor’s tastes.” Sunday’s mellifluous voice washes over you as you sit in the campus library with your classmates, desperately trying to look engaged. 

It does not work. 

Sunday’s fountain pen wavers in the air and turns on you, and your heart jolts and skips past a few beats—it looks far too close to a weapon for your liking, and you would not trust an angel with a dagger for the life of you. Or without the dagger. He does not inch it closer, but it’s rather an unconscious mirroring of his thinking that betrays that he’s about to scold you for falling asleep. You’re thankful for the table that separates the two of you, but you fear wood can only do so much to counter flames of divine punishment. 

But before he can lecture you, Moze beats him to it. And for the record, you don’t know how he ended up sitting right next to you, and you’d like to complain. 

Leaning across his chair, he gets unnecessarily close to talk to you, and it’s not like whatever he’s saying is important. 

“Do you have anything to add—” and here his leg ghosts up against yours, but you don’t flinch. At least, you don’t think you do. “—or did you not get enough sleep last night?”

His voice is low—enough that there’s an undercurrent of tension without him even trying. You choose not to reply directly to him; instead, you look at Sunday once more, and you swear you feel a spike of irritation from the angel. But, surely not, right?

Mulling your words over, you carefully select a sequence that won’t land you a one-way ticket back to hell. There’s a certain trick to this, you see���and that’s crossing your fingers and thinking of an escape plan in the event you fail, or the shameless cowardly demon approach. It may not land you a spot among the Lieutenants, but it sure is better than being skewered by some angel. 

Especially one named Sunday. You disguise your grimace. 

“Uhh,” you wrack your brains, before settling on the first thing your mind falls upon—yesterday night, all cozied up with Jiaoqiu. Fuck. “A horror movie.”

You can feel Moze’s stare burn into dermis, sizzle a bit, then singe your very bones.

“That’s an— unconventional idea,” Sunday coughs, and you remind yourself that angels are way meaner than you’d expect. 

“If you think it’s ill-founded, then I would like to remind you our professor’s maturity doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll enjoy an orthodox style,” you argue, suddenly remembering that angels are also ill-suited for debates and ‘gotchas’, and also that incubi can honey their tongue to saccharine degree.

Fuck. You’ve really spent too much time in the human realm. 

Before Sunday can get a word in, you keep talking, desperate to look enthusiastic to discuss incubi and possibly give yourself away. “If it’s being entered into the Film Festival, a mockumentary or a horror film could be both informative and entertaining. Or even a silent film.”

“It’s succubi and incubi,” Moze mutters. “If there were more people I’d bet there’d be one group submitting porn.”

You stifle a cough, but you don’t think you did it well. 

“What, with Hopkins as the intended audience?” you glance at him, and see the traces of laughter on his mouth, and suddenly your own feels somewhat dry. Just a little. 

“Yeah, imagine,” he matches your airy tone—and the proximity forces your heart to lapse. Just a little. 

Sunday’s glare bores into both of you. “Can the two of you take this seriously? We are absolutely not doing that.”

If you ever forgot he was an angel, this is a poignant reminder. Should you squint, you think you can see a faint halo around his head, but that could also honestly just be the library light causing the incandescence. 

“Yes, which is why we should do horror or a mockumentary,” you interrupt. This is the only fight you’d ever attempt with an angel, and boy do you deserve a medal for it like the humans do. “The topic isn’t particularly… uh… safe for work, so horror would convey the right message that we investigate in each class, while still having space for detail. Think something like found footage horror films or something.”

“You raise a good point,” Sunday deliberates—if there was anything good to say about angels, it would be that they are gracious with their concessions. Some concessions. “Fine.”

Fine. 

Fine.

Fine. 

With glee, you save the moment to brag about when you next visit downstairs. I got an angel to agree with me. 

But simultaneously, you compose your face, knowing the next item on the agenda will inevitably be the very topic of the proposal. 

Suddenly, you no longer feel the glee of just a minute ago. 

Oh shit. 

[donnyclaws]

Fall warmed is back up to read👍👍

[transsongtaewon]

The Colour of the Soul | Gen | 1.3k

When Yoojin meets his little brother for the first time, he learns to see warm colours. When Yoohyun leaves, they fade away.

[Link]

[lucky-clovers-agere]

Snippet More of Ponyboy's First Regression

Johnny laughed lightly for a moment, before focusing back on Ponyboy.

"Pony? Can you look at me?" Johnny asked, voice quiet with a tilt of his head. Ponyboy shook his head, leaning more into Sodapop before whining, pulling back as one hand came up to his head.

Sodapop caught the look of faint confusion on Ponyboy's face before the pain took over.

"Hey, hey, you're okay honey," Sodapop's hands came up, gently cupping Ponyboy's face in his hands, Johnny moved suddenly, a hand landing on Ponyboy's upper arm comfortingly and Ponyboy huffed as more tears welled up in Ponyboy's eyes.

Sodapop had no idea why Ponyboy was acting like this, but it was remaining him a heck of a lot of when Ponyboy was really young.

"Hur's" Ponyboy uttered, blinking rapidly as he pulled his hands away. Sodapop moved on hand to cover Ponyboy's before his brother could see the small smear of blood.

"I know honey, you have to let me see so I can fix the hurt, okay?" Sodapop uttered, and Ponyboy huffed, nodding as he blinked tiredly. It seemed like everything was tuckering him out.

"Come on, Pony, let me see so that Sodapop can get anything that we need," Sodapop winced as Ponyboy's eyes widened.

"Bad?"

"No, no, it's not bad Pony, it's just going to hurt for a little while before it's all gone!" Sodapop cut in before Johnny could say anything. Sodapop liked Johnny, and knew that Johnny always had Pony's best interests on his mind, almost the entire gang did if Sodapop thought about it hard enough…

But when Ponyboy was really young, even bandaids freaked him out to the point of tears.

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

Ah, this is such a sweet performance of More Than This from June 2012. They sound fantastic and it's so funny how they keep miming the other's ad-libs and Harry and Louis' little interactions throughout.

There's a short interview at the end where they re-tell the story of the fan in the bin and Liam saying a while ago when they were in Sweden, they climbed a balcony to escape the back garden, cause they "hadn't been outside in a week and said fuck this!" and then Harry says something I can't quite hear and looks at Louis like this:

and then Harry points and is like "Our tour manager's just behind, saying that we're ruining his life."

Then there's a longer version here:

..where they play a game beforehand where they have to face the wall and raise their hands to reply. At the question (0:45) "Who's had the most girlfriends?", Louis says something he'll repeat the in 2013: "Define girlfriends." and Harry looks like this:

Then they turn around and get asked "If there was a beautiful girl in the room, what would you say to her in 1 sentence?" (1:04) Harry says "I think they like it when you come for their personality rather than their looks." Liam replies with "But if you don't know them, how can you go with their personality?" Louis adds a "You walk up to her," then he goes right up to Harry and points at him and says "I bet you're a really nice girl."

[divineatrophy]

“You’re staring at me, Daniel,” Armand points out from where he sits across from him at the dining room table. It comes out offhandedly. He is staring. Fuck. For how long? Hard to say. At least a few minutes. All Daniel can think to say is: “so?” Weird answer. The corners of Armand’s mouth pinch as a scowl flickers across his features and, bond or no bond, Daniel gets the distinct feeling that he wishes he could stick his hand into Daniel’s brain and yank the answers out of it. His expression smooths over a heartbeat later. “By all means, continue,” he says blandly, and he makes sure that Daniel can see him roll his eyes.

chapter 5: date night! for some people!

[fidgetspringer-art]

“You asked me before, if I’d met other wolves.”

Marten nods. “You said you have.”

“I’ve met a handful, most of them only briefly and under unpleasant circumstances.” He takes a deep breath. “But there was one other.”

There’s a pained expression on the Cat’s face now. He's distant, like he’s no longer here in the room with Marten, but lost in some far away memory. Judging by his scent it isn’t a very good one.

“Were you close?”

Nohren chuckles sadly. “You could say that. We spent our first decade on the path together, met completely by chance after a hunt, hit it off and just sort of stuck together. I’ve never met someone like him, we told each other everything.” Marten now knows exactly where this is going. He’s lost enough brothers to be familiar with this particular brand of grief. “That’s why I know about the hot springs. I also know you have a library, I know about the names carved into the rafters in the great hall, I know that you hang the medallions of fallen Witchers on the branches of a tree, and that the keep can only be found by someone who already knows the way.”

Nohren worries his lip between his teeth. “Over a decade of trading stories means I know Kaer Morhen so well I could walk the halls blind, even if I’ve never been there.” he looks up to meet Marten’s wide eyes. “So there you have it. He wasn’t meant to tell me, but he loved that old ruin so much he was bursting with it. That’s why I know, not for any nefarious reason or ill intent, just through the stories of a man who adored his home too much to keep it all to himself.”

[kizykoolors]

EPIC COMMUNITYYYYY!!!!!

WHO'S HYPED UP AND READY FOR THE ITHACA SAGA TOMMOROW ON CHRISTMAAASS 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️