#snippies

[renegadeknight]

wip wednesday on a thursday

thank you for the tag @lauronk 💙 I am desperately trying to finish up time loop fic, hopefully in the next few days

no pressure tags: @becomethesun @emilylawsons @captainredspade @bumblepony @sixhours

[cobaltrine]

snippets from stories i will never write

[agave]

as a root vegetable, parsnip naturally desires to return to the earth 🌏🥕

[shitpostingkats]

We need less "shy, anxious, always second guessing" Apollo in fanworks, and approximately 400% more of whatever the hell this is.

[crsssie]

down the neck - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff, glancing through the scope at the unsub.

"Well, I have to lay low too, no?" Spencer frowns.

"It doesn't matter." You squint, humming. "Hit the button and ask Hotch if I can shoot. Be fast."

"Hotch, we have a clear shot."

"I have a clear shot."

"Snippy—"

"Fire."

You click your tongue, pulling the trigger once to hit the unsub's hand and a second to snipe the gun out of range as Morgan flies into the place. You watch through the scope as Spencer looks through the binoculars, and you only start to sit up when you see Morgan pull the unsub out. Then, you actually sit up and start packing up.

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff.

"You weren't complaining when I—"

You hold a finger to your lips, pointing at your earpiece as Spencer blinks, laughing when you hear a cough in your ears from Hotch.

"Sorry."

"Need I remind you both of—"

"Nope." You puff out your cheeks, slinging the gun around to your back as Spencer raises a brow. "Actually, I think Reid needs a quick reminder. He'd love to go through another HR meeting about how we shouldn't be fraternizing with—"

"We're good, Hotch." Spencer cuts you off, rolling his eyes at you. "We'll see you back at the station."

"You're driving." You mumble, turning off your mic. "Two dollars and I'll drive. Four dollars and I'll make a stop at McDonalds."

"And for five?"

"I'll sneak in a kiss plus everything else."

"I think that can be arranged." He hums, pulling out a five as you press your lips to his, tongue swiping over your bottom lips as he chases when you pull away. You stick your tongue out teasingly as you take the five, craning your neck so that his lips would hit your neck instead. "Hey."

"I'll drop a ten if you—"

"Reid."

You laugh as Spencer jolts straight, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sound of Hotch.

"Turn off your mic next time."

"Roger that, sir."

You're too busy laughing the rest of the way back to be able to drive. (but spencer has no complaints when you hand him back the five with a chaste kiss to his lips).

[snippydippy]

The SPEED at which I bought her is unreal. Her face is weird, and Epic should really make a change, but otherwise this skin is cute and I'm so excited to see her here.

AND I won the first game with her so. The goddess truly does bless me lmao

[thatswhatsushesaid]

“um, you are actually supposed to hate this character with your whole chest, the text is EXTREMELY clear that he is terrible and you should not like him”

well i like him anyway. what are you going to do about it, tell my mom?

[pangur-and-grim]

not to brag or anything, but my hospital notes have a little compliment

[mulderscully]

everyone who makes beautiful gifsets that don't go past 500 notes bc this site is dying just know ur set has 10k notes to me

[two-birds-alone-together]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

Another peak into apartment super AU. Fic title still forthcoming, but it's for sure going to be a line from Satellite Call by Sara Bareilles.

(Currently weighing "this one's for the lonely child" vs. "the cause of chaos and everything" vs. "brokenhearted, running wild" vs. "perfect little satellites". Gotta see how the story shakes out more before I can make a decision.)

Tomorrow’s forecast calls for the first bout of winter weather Boston will see since March, which means Joel is digging around his workshop for ice melt and snow shovels.  The weathermen all agree that they’ll get two to twelve inches of snow.  A bullshit amount, if you ask him — there’s a mighty big difference between two inches and twelve inches.

Between his own disgruntled muttering and the radio, he almost misses a soft rap on the door. He abandons the search, pulling the door open only to do a double-take.

The mysterious laundry girl from summer stands before him.  Same clothes, same wary posture.  The most noticeable differences are a nasty-looking shiner, blood under her nose, and a split lip.  There’s blood splattered across her sweatshirt and jeans.

She looks smaller, somehow, shoulders hunched and eyes red as she clutches her backpack to her chest.  He can’t remember her name.  Something with an E.  Elise? Ellen?

“The hell happened to you?”

“Got mugged,” she mumbles, gaze dropping to the floor as she steps back.   “I, uh…” Her voice cracks.  She clears her throat.  “I was wondering if maybe I could do some laundry.  Just, like, this once.”

Joel’s eyes narrow, mind cycling through his options. He dismisses turning her away — he’s an asshole, but he’s not heartless.  And from the almost timid way she asked… he has a feeling something worse happened than just a simple mugging.  

Before he can answer, she takes another step back and shakes her head. “Nevermind.  Sorry to—”

“Stop,” he says as he fumbles for his keys, frowning when he doesn’t see the one for the machines. Where the hell did he leave them? “It’s fine.  C’mon.”

[renegadeknight]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thank you for the tag @sixhours!

She gave the jacket a long look.

“I can see you’re cold,” he said, “take it.”

Her eyes shifted to him sidelong for a brief moment and then back to the jacket. “I’m fine,” she insisted, shifting pointedly to lean on the other side of the chair.

He heaved a sigh. “Listen, Ellie, I know you-”

No pressure tags: @oliviassunrise @march-flowerr @becomethesun @captainredspade

[futuristichedge]

Redraw of the death glare Silver makes after being kicked in the head

[asharaks]

not to sound like a redditor but this game having incredibly laboured and poorly integrated gender politics while perpetuating the series' unbelievable racism is. woof

[snip-stein]

This is how you instill fear

[crsssie]

reidsplaining - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

"Do you not get bothered when Reid starts explaining things to you?"

"No." You tilt your head, looking up from your drink. "I'm one of the newest members of the team. Obviously I'd need a little help every now and then."

"Now and then?" Emily raises a brow. "You let him talk as much as he wants. You're not exactly incapable either."

"I like it." You roll your bottom lip between your teeth, pursing your lips. "Besides, what he does in reidsplaining, he makes up for when he has to sit through all that shooting practice with me."

"Reidsplaining..." Garcia mumbles. "Is that what you call it?"

"Yeah." You laugh. "Sounds slightly better than mansplaining. The difference is that Spencer never means it to sound demeaning. He's just a D1 talker."

"Well, a perfect match." JJ hums.

"Did you know D1 comes from the National Collegiate Athletic Association? Division one used to be University Division, because the original splits were University Divison and College division. The NCAA changed it to division one, two, and three in 1973. It was mainly to split the college division into two. Numbers made it easier to keep track of." Spencer tilts his head as you beam at him. "Hey."

"Well, hello, my D1 encyclopedia." You laugh, hand reaching for his arm as you give him a squeeze. "I missed youuuu."

Spencer rests a hand on yours, squeezing. "I'm here to pick you up. How much did you drink?"

You tilt your head, holding up a three with a wink.

"Shots?" He pauses. "Puts you around... .09%."

You get up, nodding at the girls. "Will you guys be alright? I can drive you all back."

"You drank—"

"Nooooo I'm soberrrrr." You drawl, wrapping your arms around Spencer's neck.

"We'll be fine." JJ waves her hand. "Stay safe, you two lovebirds."

You wave bye as you leave the bar, blowing on your hands when you finally get outside.

"Here." He hands you a hand warmer, and your lips curl up teasingly.

"Oh, you love me."

"Sure do." He hums. "How much did you actually drink?"

"I've been nursing the same whiskey for the last two hours. It was too watery by the time that I texted you." You pout. "My BAC is nowhere near .09. Three shots would put me at that. One whiskey that's more water than alcohol would not be that much."

"You're sober. I know you are. You don't slur your speech when drunk." Spencer raises a brow, taking your hand.

"And what do I do?"

"You start trying to jump me."

You laugh, cheeks warm with your laughter as he tugs you along under the stars.

"No way."

"Check our security footage."

You huff. "Does that mean I only ever love you when I'm drunk?"

"Oh, honey, no." He mumbles, squeezing your hand. "You love me all the time."

"That, I do." You stick your tongue out.

[whirlpool-blogs]

What have you seen in the difference in 5-on-5 year over year? What’s up? 5-on-5, year over year, what do you see different? I don’t know, I mean - what do you mean? I don’t know.

Like even strength. Yeah, what about it?