#snippets and sneak peeks

[squirrelno2]

You know you've dragged Rex a fair distance from his canon characterisation when he's actually taking verbal potshots at Krell.

(context: in this au Krell is stripped of his title as a Jedi but remains a general)

"I notice you don't carry a lightsaber, sir," Rex said before he could think better of it.

"Perhaps your impressive observational skills would be best suited to the battlefield. Maybe if you can discern whether the Umbarans carry blasters, your soldiers will receive fewer injuries."

(Rex remains uhhhh Rex about things - I cut out all the internal waffling he's doing - but it sure is fun writing a slowly radicalizing captain Rex)

[uniquethingtastemaker]

This is from Vil x Reader -- Overblot Slap:

“Please, don’t look at me… Stop looking at me like that!” Vil screams, cowering away from you. “Why? I wanted to become the most beautiful in the world, but why am I so–so ugly! I’m so ugly!” 

The dorm leader clutches his hair, hyperventilating. Poisonous gas seeps into the hallway.

“Roi de Poison, you’re not ugly,” Rook refutes.

You give him an incredulous expression. Vil looks pretty ugly to you. He hasn’t looked good since you became an unwilling participant in the reality TV show that’s his life. He has such an obsessive and self-important attitude. It pisses you off. 

“Yeah! Neige and Rook didn’t drink the juice!” Kalim agrees. 

You gape at Kalim with wide eyes. Is he excusing Vil’s actions? That man attempted murder! He might not have done irreversible physical damage, but you have psychological trauma. It’s been accumulating since day one. You can’t do this anymore. You have to hit him before he overblots. As a magicless student, you’re pushed to the sidelines during overblot fights. However, you have a personal grudge against Vil. You’ve put up with his pretentious behavior in your house for a month. You’re going to express your feelings with your fists.

“Please, Vil, come to your–”

You stomp up to Vil and slap him. The sound reverberates off the walls. He stares at you. His eyes are wide, and he has a searing red handprint on his face. One of his gloved hands brushes over it in disbelief. You put your hands on your hips.

“Yeah, you’re ugly,” you confirm. “You’ve been acting ugly for a while now. You almost murdered Neige because of your stupid ego and inferiority complex. Not everything is about you. You don’t get to decide you’ve lost the competition before you’ve even performed. You have a whole team behind you. You’re not being a good leader.” 

There’s a period of silence. The dorm leader stares at you. After a moment, you slap him again. 

“Your face pisses me off,” you explain, “Get your act together and stop whining. You have other things to do, like apologizing.”

(this is the first page of the Overblot Slap fanfic. u're welcome and i'm sorry. u're going to be so mad at me. this isn't going to come out in a while. i'm mostly working on Rook x Observant Reader. Then, the Dreaming of You series... however... I will say that once I get Riddle and Azul's finished, I might work on this more)

[ghost-bxrd]

It never gets easier.

Even now, almost two years later, Dick still finds himself waking from a light doze in a near panic when he can’t recall Jason’s whereabouts.

In his dreams, Jason smiles. Breathless laughter erupting out of him like light from the sun when Dick scoops him up, not understanding the frenzy with which Dick checks him over but submitting to it all the same, confusion giving way to indulgent exasperation regardless of how many times Dick buries his face in the owlet’s hair and cries. Like he doesn’t understand why Dick clings to him like his life depends on it, like he’s just been away for a few minutes to fetch a glass of water and doesn’t get what the fuss is all about about.

And then Dick wakes up, the comforting smell dissipating along with the dream, and Dick wishes he could reach inside his chest and claw the heart right out of it.

— Birds of Terror, Owl Song pt xv sneak peek

[ink-stainedkiss]

okokokok guys i have something brewing in my drafts. Something i have not posted 😥 but ill give you a tiny snippet of what i have and if we like it ill finish the story.

Choso wasn’t sure how he ended up in this position; with you straddling his legs while your hand pumped his hard cock. It was supposed to be a normal study sesh in your dorm. The two of you were assigned a duo project (which Choso obviously freaked out about) and he didn’t expect for you to not only: 1, ask for his number, but 2, text him the next day to meet up at your dorm to work on it.

“shhh Cho, you don’t want the rooms around us to hear how good i’m jerking you off, right?” A pathetic whine pushed past his lips as he shook his head. The knot in his stomach grew tighter and tighter, his hefty balls begging for release. As if you’ve trained for this very moment, you applied a small amount of pressure on the underside of his cock, a sensitive area for the man. Choso threw his head back, slamming onto the side of your bed,”Holy s-shit.”

Update: soo a special holiday is coming up aka this friday and it’ll be a perfect time to send this work out along with some other Valentine’s day Speical works!! Stayed tuned❤️

[amazingmsme]

Just a lil sneak peak of what’s to come

"You're going to call off that storm." He spoke in a dead, flat tone. One that struck fear in the hearts of many and commanded respect.

Poseidon's triumphant smirk stretched further across his face, twisting his features with sadistic glee.

"Or what? You can't kill me," he taunted. Odysseus slowly shifted his gaze back onto him.

"Exactly."

Odysseus stalked closer, like a lone wolf closing in on a kill. Poseidon's grin faltered once he realized Odysseus was still coming towards him.

"Wait-" his eyes darted to where his trident now rested at the soldier's feet. "Wait!"

And then Odysseus smirked.

"Oh no. By the time I'm through with you, you're gonna wish I stabbed you instead," he said matter of factly.

Poseidon sneered, lurching forward threateningly. "What?"

But before he could say another word, the King of Ithica was straddling his hips, shoving his back against the rocks. He blinked in shock, at a complete loss for words.

"Cruelty comes in all shapes and sizes," Odysseus said, cracking his knuckles for emphasis. "Even ones you don't expect," he went on to crack his neck, rolling his shoulders just to drag out the anticipation.

Poseidon could've thrown him off, but he was curious where the mortal was going with this.

"Do your worst."

"I intend to."

[louroth]

All this nervous energy just running off of you as long as you. keep. moving. The adrenaline feels lovely as it surges, past the last set, into another, and a third— you're going for failure, aren't you?

Always.

It is not enough to coast the high of enough. It has to be more. There has to be the tenuous sigh of relief as your body scrambles to survive within the frame you've made for it. Just one more. Another.

The weights fall to the floor with a clatter and your mouth splits into a wide grin of approval as everything— your vision, your limbs, your spirit— trembles, quakes: the good kind of exhaustion. The ceiling is the loveliest view you've ever seen— you did it. The something you can do. Colors dull in comparison to it. As you lay on the mat, tracing worms of fracturing color that twitch with your heightened breath, a face steps in, swirling your vision into whirls of lights and traces of sweat. A smirk, a raised eyebrow— distant, not staring, but aware. He hefts his own weight. Flicks his focus to your red, flushed face. Meets your eyes for a fraction of a second before curling the iron once more.

"A sight for sore eyes."

You, at a lack for words, trace an eye over his form. He rolls his lips. You flick a brow.

And that is all there is to it.

[jittersbitters]

Ive hit 4K and taking a break to eat. Have another Vik x reader smut snippet while I wait for more coffee to brew (its only midnight). On that 2nd cup and my drink isn't the only thing getting steamy.

Part 3 is already being outlined and I'm thinking Heimerdinger's lab or Hoskels house 🤭

Part 1 Here

“In.” His thumb started to stroke between my shoulder blades as his breath fanned the side of my face, voice a low thrum in my ear. My breath hitched as I felt myself gravitate toward him, eyeing him from the corners of my vision. My heart starting to make its nervous ascent up my throat again. “What?” “It’s incautious.” His corrected with a self-satisfied smile, delighting in my surprise as his hand shifted up to thumb at the cord wrapping around my neck to hold up the front of my dress. He played with it, running the finger along the stack, his hand resting at the base of my neck. Holding me gently as he guided me away from the increasingly crowded table, deliberately closing any lingering distance between us as our sides came together. “How do you say…” We were so close he only needed to murmur, “The student becomes the master.” A rush of heat coursed through me, breath hitching in my throat. The cord around my neck felt suddenly too tight, and I weakly pulled with it in search of relief. His thumb slid under the cords in response, relieving some of the pressure from the back. Simultaneously, pulling them into my throat, the contrast made my insides twist and flutter. Did he know just what he was doing? “Viktor—"

I seemed to have devolved in the tags. Read at your own risk teehee

[nevermoorsource]

Jessica Townsend shared a new Silverborn snippet!!! 👑🐉☂️

To view all the snippets so far, go here.

[squirrelno2]

I glanced at Trigger Fingers today, reread the part where Cody helps Dasa put on armour, and remembered that I absolutely did that for sexual tension reasons. So here is a scene from a hypothetical sequel (ha! Hypothetical. It'll happen i just don't know when) that takes the subtext and makes it very much text. You're welcome

"Cody?"

Cody turned to see Dasa dangling the borrowed breastplate with large, liquid eyes. Cody sighed, knowing exactly how much work Dasa put into making that face, and got to work helping him. At least it was an excuse to run his fingers over Dasa's short grey fur, watching him shiver as Cody brushed against his collarbone entirely unnecessarily.

"You need to know how to do this," Cody said as he fastened the rerebrace. He snorted. "You need your own armour."

"What do you take me for, some puffed-chest Mando? Armour is noisy."

"So are you."

"Only for you."

Cody cleared his throat, trying not to think about the night before. It wasn't easy with Dasa smirking at him. They both knew just how loud Dasa had been.

"You probably still call these bracelets," he muttered.

"Ah!" Dasa stopped Cody from stepping back by wrapping an arm around Cody's waist. He lifted his other arm, rotating it to show off the pieces.

"Vambrace. Rerebrace."

Dasa leaned down, his breath a warm wind against Cody's ear. Cody kept his face straight with no small amount of effort, his cheeks just as warm as Dasa's voice.

"If you want me to know all the pieces, maybe you ought to teach me."

They'd been doing this long enough that Cody knew how to give as good as he got. He gathered his resolve, planted a hand on Dasa's chest to push him back, and allowed himself one small smirk.

"We can start with how to take it off. When the job's done."

"Yes, sir, commander," Dasa said with a goofy little bow.

"Stop it," Cody warned, trying not to smile. "Go. Don't get shot."

"Oh, not even a little? After all your hard work with this stuff?"

"Go!" Cody said. Dasa laughed all the way out of the room. Cody let himself linger for three seconds, five, until the echoes were gone from his head as well as the air. Then he headed out as well, taking the opposite path down the hall. He had his own work to do.

[ksbbb]

WIP WEDNESDAY SATURDAY

Tagged by @thiamsalpha @thiamsxbitch @haven-of-dusk @fruchtfliege @maplesyrizzup @hemlocksandfoxgloves @morganasmissus @diaphanous-anchor @mmoosen

“Someone’s already in here.” Nolan whispers, shivering in disbelief.

Liam’s skin grows cold, and goosebumps cover his chest, his head turning to rest on a dark figure in the corner of the room.

“Thought I’d drop in.”

“Theo?” Liam stutters, dazzled with excitement and disbelief at seeing the other werewolf.

“Miss me?” Theo smirks.

@dreadful-doctors @wolfboy88 @chasing-chimeras @theoceanismyinkwell @honestlydarkprincess @akirasstories @attempted--eloquence @el-viruss @valkyrievoid-15 @ashyjingles @okay-but-could-we-not @awinnn23 @thiamblogger @genetic-hellhound @waterloou @gaefandomlover @nightshade-emrys

[uniquethingtastemaker]

This is from Rook x Observant Reader:

“Is that my cat?!” you cry, bolting to your feet.

You dash over, inspecting Grim. He’s in a delirious and diluted state. He mutters something about wanting more stones.

“I told you not to eat those rocks,” you scold, before slapping him so hard he topples over.

He lets out a high-pitched scream. You can practically see the world spinning in his eyes.

You cross your arms and lean over him.

“You awake?” you ask.

Blue eyes blink up at you. It takes him a few seconds to recognize you.

“Henchman!” Grim cries, launching himself at you.

You topple backwards, catching him and landing on the floor with an oof.

“I thought I’d never see you again!” he sobs.

You pat his back, holding him.

“I’m glad to see you, too. I was worried about you. We’ll get you out of here. The others are working to retrieve us,” you reassure.

Your cat pauses. You see the wheels turn.

“Wait, why are you here?” Grim questions.

“Rook, Epel, and I came here to save all of you,” you reply.

Your companion puffs up his chest in pride. “I knew my henchman would come and save me. You can’t function without your boss after all.”

(I love Grim. He’s so cute. He’s a menace, but super adorable)

[ghost-bxrd]

Gordon isn’t the only one who notices. He’s just the start in a chain of very exhausting first meetings that Tim-as-Robin has.

“The fuck is that?” Roy exclaims the second Tim steps through the zeta behind Batman, recoiling from where he’d been arguing with Green Arrow.

By this point Tim isn’t— well, he’s not been accepted, per se. But at least Bruce is no longer actively trying to lose him during patrol. Small mercies.

Green Arrow falls into his seat with a weary groan, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index fingers. And part of Tim wants to geek out, to skip over and pester Green Arrow with all the questions that had accumulated over the years. Like, where did you learn to use a bow like that? Does he use gadgets to correct the trajectory so he never misses a hit? So many questions. But Tim will ask none of them.

“That’s Robin, kid. You know him.”

Roy squints at him, lips curling. And there’s a zero chance probability that the other boy even marginally bought that.

— Owl Song pt xiii sneak peek

[tales-of-wocdes]

How would Harvard and Lexia react if MC dropped something and said either f*ck or sh*t in the most innocent voice ever, all cause little innocent MC saw one of the other adults drop something and cursed lol?

(I absolutely love your game, it just sucked me in and I was so engrossed in the story ❤️ can't wait for the next update!)

Thank you! Happy to hear you liked it.

Let's go with sh*t (let's assume MC missed the word in C2). Lets call this one a celebration for a ~100 blog posts.

Thank you for all the interaction :D

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

The book drops from your hands and smacks against the white stone underneath.

"Shit." You heard one of the Silver Protectors say it just the other day when they dropped their gauntlet during lunch. You figured it was the thing to say when dropping something.

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

Havard:

Havard is there in an instant, picking up the book and kneeling in front of you. He peers into your eyes, and gives a little smile.

"MC, do you remember our talk about bad words?" He asks calmly.

You stare at him. You recall the conversation. What does that have to do with anything? Still, you should probably nod. So you do.

Havard stares at you, as if searching for something. "You have no idea why I am asking about that, do you?" He asks, and you think there is a hint of mirth in his tone.

"No." You say tilting your head. You really have no idea.

Havard smiles at you, just like he always smiles.

"Well, the word you used is one of the bad words. You should not use it." He says.

It is? Why? Bad words are so confusing. What makes a word bad? How are you supposed to know which words are bad?

Havard must see your confusion.

"Don't worry about it. I am sure you will learn in time."

You sure hope so.

"Now please tell me where you heard that word." He is still smiling at you, but it feels a little... scary. You have a feeling that if you tell him, the Silver Protector you heard using the word will be in trouble.

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

Lexia:

Lexia saunters over and picks up the book. "Good word kid, but you do know Havard would not like you using it." She says, grinning a bit.

He wouldn't? Why not?

"It's one of those bad words kid. Remember?"

You stare at her. Bad words?.... Oh. You recall the conversation.

"Yeah. So avoid using it, especially in front of Havard. And Ethel. And Alessa." She winks and then frowns a bit. "Uh... kid? You did not learn that word from me did you?"

No it was not her. You did learn a lot of other words from her. Like f*ck! Still, you shake your head.

"Oh good. I don't want another lecture." She beams at you. "Do tell me who you did learn if from?"

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

Havard and Lexia:

Havard and Lexia both turn to look at you. Havard glances at Lexia.

"Hey, it wasn't me this time!" She raises her arms. "I think." Havard sighs and comes over to you. He picks up the book and kneels in front of you.

[Pretty much the same as Havard one]

"So... were you telling the truth about where you learned the word from? Come on, tell me." Lexia whispers as Havard leaves the room. "And we should totally follow him. I want to see this. For once his glower is not directed at me!" She sounds gleeful.

Life is so complicated.

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

What conversation are they talking about? C3 might have something related to profanity.

[vaultureculture]

October kickstarter update info in the tags <3

[clexa-surrogacy-au]

Little sneak peek of the next chapter of BOL…

//

Lexa’s eyes snap open as she jolts awake to a flash of blinding light, the whole house shaking as thunder crashes in the night and her heart crashes in her chest. She sits up in bed, blankets pooling around her. It’s storming hard outside, rain pelting the roof, tree branches scratching at the window as the wind howls. A glance at the alarm clock shows it’s a quarter past four in the morning.

Lexa calms just seconds later, when soft hands smooth over the skin of her stomach. Then her heart stutters again, as she realizes those hands are on the bare skin of her stomach.

Clarke is clearly half asleep, instinctively reaching out to soothe her. Lexa relaxes, exhaling as she settles back onto the mattress, lifting an arm so Clarke is free to shift closer. She nuzzles her head onto Lexa’s chest, throwing a leg over Lexa’s. The hard swell of her belly presses into the side of Lexa’s, and her hand remains just under the hem of Lexa’s shirt, fingers drifting over skin in a mindless pattern.

Lexa swallows thickly as her eyes flutter closed, arms gentle but snug around Clarke, and absently strokes Clarke’s forearm that’s slung across her waist. There’s an ache, simmering in the pit of her stomach. A type of longing that’s been mostly hibernating for months.

Just the storm, she dismisses in her head. They’ve always had this effect on her. Something about them just wakes her up— literally and figuratively. It’s fine.

She releases a shaky breath and tries to let the sleepy, gentle touches on her hip carry her back to slumber, but it’s not working. She is, unfortunately, wide awake, even long after Clarke’s hand has stilled and she’s slipped into deep, steady breaths barely short of a snore. Another glance at the clock shows Lexa has been lying awake for over forty minutes. She bites back a groan. This is not how she wanted to start the day, but she might as well get on with it, because clearly she’s not going to be falling back asleep anytime soon.

As carefully as possible, she extricates herself from Clarke’s arms—pressing her lips together when Clarke’s hand drags across her stomach, fingers grazing the strip of skin just above the waistband of her sleep shorts—and gently tucking the blanket up around her. Clarke turns in her sleep, curling around Lexa’s pillow. Lexa takes a second to just look at her, at how her hair is lit up white gold when lightning flashes and the light spills in through the window, to illuminate half of the room. Lexa’s stomach turns with the sound of thunder.

You know what? She needs to do the safest thing possible to work off this energy.

Time to hit the gym.

[hexcii]

Hex your "The name game" update rent is overdue and i'm gonna report to the writer popo and confiscate your fae boys to foster homes!!

NO PLEASEEE!!!! MY FAE BOYS!!!!!

Will— will snippets satisfy???? HERE!! TAKE EM!!!! JUST GIVE ME BACK MY BOYS !!!!

(None of these are proofread so please forgive any mistakes 🙏)

In all seriousness, chapter eight is going to be delayed by quite a bit. I’m still working on it almost every day and I’m about halfway through the final draft. But as my mental healthy is really bad right now due to personal matters, it has been quite difficult to write, and my physical health isn’t helping either djekfkdk (literally just got sick AGAIN today)

I’ve gotten a few people asking where the update is, and it’s coming I swear!! It’s just taking its time. Please be patient <33