#sunday snippet

[hergrandplan]

Sunday Snippet

Would you believe me if I told you that this a snippet from the upcoming chapter of Breaking Beds? No? Oh well... things are about to get messy.

"I can't believe we're finally doing this," Simon said, stepping into Wille's space. Running his hand over Wille's arm, looking up at him through long lashes, with those big, beautiful brown eyes that Wille could drown in.

He'd looked golden in the sun earlier that day, glowing, radiating from within.

And now here he was, in front of Wille, shirtless.

Wille hooked his fingers into Simon's pants to pull him flush against him. How long would it take for those pants to join the pile of clothes on the floor? Wille hoped not too long.

"I know. You have no idea how long I've waited for this."

[circle--of--confusion]

Sunday night snippet of the cardinal copia/sex toy fic? How 'bout 2 for the price of 1?

It's the morning after Reader and Copia's, ah, experiment. He's trying to have you skip work to stay with him all day because he hasn't had enough.

:3c

[snowywinterevenings]

Sunday Snippet

I was tagged by @smoosey and @aquaticflames who both shared absolutely lovely snippets. This is a bit from chapter 4 of Love Follows:

Cody eyed the new bed with a raised eyebrow when he saw it and then walked around it to see that Ben’s bed roll and mat were tucked in the corner between the bed and the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Ben a look with which he was very familiar, one that said he had done something idiotic, and Cody did not approve.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

“I will be perfectly fine sleeping as I have for nearly my whole life.”

“You could have gotten two beds.”

“I thought it might seem odd since we are supposed to be married.”

“No one is paying attention to how many beds you’re buying or cares who’s sleeping in them.” Ben started to argue again, but Cody held up a hand indicating that he wasn’t quite finished. “But since you’re being stubborn about it, we can share. As you said, we are married.”

“I do not wish to crowd you.”

“I’ll have plenty of room even if you sprawl out like you normally do.”

Ben ignored the little flare of something he could never quite put his finger on when Cody crawled into bed that evening. He slept like the dead, for once not waking for Luke and Leia’s feedings, and Ben watched him as he slept peacefully, his breathing deep and even and his rest for once undisturbed by dark dreams. He ached to reach out and curl up against him, but he contented himself with settling into the feeling of sunshine warmth as he tended to the twins.

Open tags to whoever wants to share a little bit of what they’re working on!

[elinorbard]

sunday snippet 🗡️

It's Sunday, and that means I must post a snippet to carry me through the Sunday scaries and into the work week ahead. Thank you @archduchessgortash and @sleepytimegrrl for tagging me!

I am still working on my next Ta'av story - pre-canon Durgetash featuring Faerun's second-worst trio of coworkers:

She had moved too quickly for Enver to follow, but he recoiled in shock as the blade sank into flesh. “What are you doing?” he shouted. At the same time, Ketheric made a disgusting, gurgling noise as he gasped for breath. Thick, black blood began to seep out of the wound. Seconds later, he was dead. Ta’av shot a glance in Enver’s direction. “I’m simply testing a theory. Don’t sulk,” she said. “Don’t sulk?” he repeated incredulously. He had knocked over his wine goblet in his surprise, and now dark red liquid was pooling on the table and dripping onto his leg. He jerked out of the way. “May I remind you that we were sent here with a mandate to secure this an alliance, not to make new enemies? If your impulsiveness leads to our failure, there will be consequences for both of us.” “Have I ever disappointed you before?” Wearing an impudent smirk, she dragged her gaze back to the head of the table. “He’ll be fine. See?”

I'm tagging @calcazars, @flamemittens, @inkymoonbunny, @badbloodwitch, and @shadows-aflame, if you would like to share!

[gulliblelemon]

Sunday Snippet

From chapter 8 of Where the Bilberries Grow. At this point, it's really difficult to find something not spoiler-y.

"What the fuck, Wille?”

And then, before Wille had the chance to defend himself, Simon burst out laughing. It took Wille so by surprise that it was a moment before he could react. All he could do was give a weak chuckle and wait for Simon to calm down. It took a while. But it had the benefit of having made Simon thaw a little bit. When he was finally wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes, he just shook his head at Wille, but it was with exasperated fondness, not annoyance.

“Wille. You’re a disaster.”

Wille grinned sheepishly, feeling better than I could remember doing in ages. “I know.”

[beccawise7]

Sunday thoughts. 💜🖤

[skibasyndrome]

sunday snippet

a canon-compliant post-s3 situation that has Wille so in love it hurts, coming to an Ao3 near you hopefully very soon. sadly I had a bit of a writing break this week, but I hope to get back into it properly soon 💜

Wille gets to taste the smile when he pulls Simon in by the waist. He gets to feel it on his lips as they stumble through the cabin, all the way along the tiny corridor, into the room at the end of it. When Wille sinks back and down against the white sheets - rumpled, tangled, deserted earlier in the morning - , when he pulls Simon down with him, he still basks in it. In the warmth that spreads throughout his body every time Simon presses his smile against Wille's lips, against the corner of his mouth, against his cheek. It’s only then, as he scoots up the bed, one hand tightly clasping Simon’s, that he opens his eyes again. Only as Simon is leaning over him, does Wille allow himself another look, a proper look. He’s never known beauty like this, never known what it’s like to see Simon’s naked golden skin bathed in the glow of summer sunshine. No other time he’s looked at him could’ve prepared Wille for the mesmerizing spectacle of tiny droplets making their way down from his hair, over the sides of his face, over his neck. Some drops catch in the light, as Wille’s breath catches in his throat. He's so pleasantly breathless when Simon covers his body with his, when Wille’s vision narrows down to Simon’s face, his halo of wet hair gorgeously backlit.

[xxnashiraxx]

Sunday Snippet

Thank you for the tags, @khywren, @arzen9, @andromedaancunin, @verbenaa, & @preciouslittlebhaalbae throughout the week!

I have a kinda longish bit from Chapter 22 of WSTFMD coming out on 5/17!! I am hoping I have most of it finished before 5/3, or at least completed, and if I'm done before the target post date and I have all my ducks in a row, I may even try to post early! 💕 Anywho, please enjoy!! I'm indulging in some more vampire blood drinking because I literally cannot resist going too long without it, lol 💗

“In the morning, then?” He asks, his hunger nothing more than a tool to get closer to her that he’d sprung at the chance to utilize. It still gnaws at him, the blood she’d generously supplied yesterday slowly ebbing, but he can last. He’d rather not push, anyhow- he’ll never risk losing it again. The implications of such a thought flit away, filed for later perusal. Or, optimally, buried so he won’t have to think about it again. “Come here, Astarion.” Her voice soothes an ache inside him, quiet and gentle. Seconds slip by as he blinks in surprise, watching her face finally relax. He obliges without another thought, letting her adjust the cushioning under her head as he cages her body beneath him. He doesn’t touch, though it’s difficult to resist the temptation. Fingers splayed out on either side of her long hair, knees inches from each of her thighs, he stares down and waits for her move. “I know you like to be full, but let's make it quick. I’m really tired. I wasn’t kidding about that.” The breathy chuckle that brushes against his lips rings true in her heavy-lidded eyes, sleep moving to claim her. He smirks and nods, body flaring with appreciation when she moves her head to the side. “And behave- no squeezing this time.” “Spoilsport,” He grumbles, enjoying the sound of her weary laugh more than he should. “And darling?” “Hmm?” The sound feels like a dagger, digging deep, and he suffers as it fills the air. “You’re not stupid,” He mumbles, lips pressing to her jugular as he obliges her request and sinks his teeth in with little more than a brief suckle as his introduction. Her inhale sharp, her body jerks before relaxing, and as her blood floods his mouth and his mind with nothing but her, he dismisses the persistent sentimentality that keeps cropping up at every opportunity. Why can’t he just take a few sips and be done with her? It’s almost nauseating… He pulls the reins back on his usual lapse in self-control, finding it give way to a dull hum in his groin rather than a raging, untamed need. He wasn’t aware he was able to exert this level of obedience before, muting the lust with soft groans that she echoes in quiet, tempered whimpers. He can’t help it when his fingers run up to cradle her head, the whisper of his touch dragging a pleased sigh from her lips. Warmth spreads through every limb, and with forlorn acknowledgement, he recognizes that it’s not just her blood that’s bestowing it upon him.

No pressure tags!! @pinkberrytea @bby-bel-art @caffeinatedmunchkin @bum-dragon @elinorbard @badbloodwitch @justabiteofspite @inkymoonbunny @bloodinwine @anacdoce @nerdallwritey @vividiana @lanafofana @roguishcat @hellethil @bhaal-battle-beer-bard @coyote-mint @bardic-inspo @larvasmoon

[caramelpenguin]

Sunday Snippet

Simon kisses boys because he likes them. Because he wants to.

Beneath the shelter of oak trees, with bark rough against his back and sunlight just beginning to filter through the leaves. In the stillness of early mornings, when the world is soft and half-asleep. Between laughter and breathless sighs, in moments stitched together by the hum of closeness. The village boys know it to be an undeniable fact: Simon, the sweetheart with angelic curls and chocolate eyes, will kiss you against the cobbled walls until you forget the rest of the world, until you're gasping and certain that this - his mouth, his hands, his touch- is all you’ll ever need to survive.

[ksbbb]

Sunday Snippet

Tagged by @thiamsalpha @endlessnightmaress

“I woke up and I thought Theo was in my room.” Liam confesses, wanting to throw a book at the wall and contemplate his own life. It’s embarrassing he’s admitting this outloud.

“That’s not the kind of thing I’d be telling people.” Malia says, outwardly looking ashamed for him. What a great start.

“It wasn’t like that! It was a dream. Forget it. I’m going to die now.” Liam groans, unable to explain what he means, or why his skin feels hot when he thinks about the chimera, and saying it’s a dream seems like the better option.

It’s all a little fuzzy. Theo was there.

@thiamsxbitch @maplesyrizzup @haven-of-dusk @honestlydarkprincess @okay-but-could-we-not @el-viruss @wolfboy88 @nightshade-emrys @mmoosen @gaefandomlover @neurodivergentflower @hemlocksandfoxgloves @thiamblogger @genetic-hellhound @rhyslahey

[hergrandplan]

Sunday snippet!

Hiiii everyone! I'm back (somewhat) with a new snippet of a new story that I'm kind of scared to post (not the snippet, the fic in general), but I'm also already growing too attached to this particular version of Wille. Soooo here's a little teaser I guess?? and a big thank you to @skibasyndrome who encouraged me to write this story in the first place, ily 💜

He was just fishing out his handkerchief from his pocket to wrap around his thumb when the door opened.

Wille didn't know what he had expected Simon to look like — there had been no pictures of the author online as far as he could find, and Simon Eriksson was too common a name to match a singular profile to.

Anytime Wille had thought about the man, he had pictured someone old and stuffy, gray hair and an ever upturned nose.

He hadn't expected someone of his age, with unruly curls, hovering in the doorway and fidgeting with his hands as if waiting on something.

He probably was waiting on him, Wille realized with a shock, quickly followed by the realization that Wille had been staring at him for the last few seconds, probably longer than what was proper. He was just so young.

"Uh, hi," Wille said, fumbling to get out of his seat while keeping his hand out of view. It probably wouldn't be a great start to the interview if Simon realized Wille was actively bleeding.

"Hi. I'm —"

"Simon, right? You're here to write my biography and all that, I'm Wilhelm," Wille quickly added. Which of course Simon would know, Wille didn't need to tell him that, but Simon was still hovering in the doorway. "But you can call me Wille. There's um, coffee and tea in the corner there, with some cookies and — I mean, you can ask one of the attendants to get it for you actually, but I think you might —"

A soft smile appeared on Simon's face, and Wille could almost see the tension disappear from his body. Well, if his awkward stumbling was good for at least something, he was glad that it was for sucking the tension out of the room.

"Thank you, but I can get my own coffee," Simon said, heading straight for the table the palace staff had set out for them earlier. Wille watched as he poured himself a cup and tucked a stray curl behind his ear.

Simon looked up at Wille then, eyebrows raised in a question. Wille was still just standing there, not having moved a single muscle the entire time.

He quickly sat down in his chair again, and pushed his hair out of his face. He really was due for a haircut.

Wille took a deep breath, "So," at the same time that Simon said, "Shall we —"

Simon's sentence broke off, and they looked at each other for a second before Simon started laughing again, and Wille couldn't help but join him.

"Great start to the interview," Simon joked, his eyes crinkling at the corners, shining in the sunlight. Kind eyes, Wille thought. He has kind eyes.

[bananaheathen]

sunday snippet

I simply must share this, in honor of Zouis and as motivation to get this Mates prequel finished. So, without further ado, here's an excerpt from the upcoming On the Island of Misfit Boys:

“No, that’s the point. I have to submit it,” he whines. “I haven’t got anything else finished that’s the right dimensions.”

“Yeah, but… I mean, you’ve got paint,” Louis suggests. “You could make something else.”

“And do what?” Zayn prods. “Hand it over to them wet, and just pray they don’t smear it with their rich people fingers?” 

“Alright,” Louis sighs. “So then, you wait until next—”

“No,” Zayn cuts him off again. “Because by next year, I’ll have been out of school too long to qualify for the program at all. By next year, I’m just a sad, nobody aspiring artist… I’ll be 27, with no money, and no prospects. I’m already a burden to my parents.” He bites his lip for dramatic effect. “And I’m frightened.”

Louis crinkles his brow, somewhere between amused, annoyed, and defeated. He looks over Zayn’s shoulder at the piece again. “Well,” he cocks his head to one side. “I mean, I really don’t think it’s bad, Zed. It’s… s’interesting.”

“Interesting,” Zayn repeats, the word turning in his chest like a knife. “Why don’t you just slap me across the face?”

Louis sighs again, tilting his elegant chin up to the ceiling in that way he does when he’s nearing his limit. (Zayn had learned this boundary when they’d been roommates at university. But it’s never stopped being pretty to look at.) “You’re being dramatic, Zed.”

Zayn raises his eyebrows. “Yes, hello, welcome.” He gestures at himself. “Have we met?”

Louis laughs aloud as his irritation evaporates off him, and Zayn can’t help feeling pleased. It isn’t exactly the victory he needs at the moment, but it’s a victory nonetheless.

“Alright,” Louis concedes at last. “What do we need to do about this? Because I know you’re brilliant, and I’m fairly sure somewhere in there you know you’re brilliant, and we’re meant to meet Nialler at The Old School Yard in under an hour, and you’re not even dressed. And not to put too fine a point on it, but I really, very urgently, need to end tonight under that bartender who’s promised to prove to me that he can tie a cherry stem in a double knot with his tongue. Which means, I should’ve started drinking about—” Louis checks his wrist, glaring at the watch he isn’t wearing, “—fifteen minutes ago.”

“Ugh, babe,” Zayn frowns, momentarily distracted. “What’ve I told you? Anyone who’s bragging to pretty strangers about having trained their tongue to tie knots is going through something tragically horny.”

“Yes, hello,” Louis snorts. “Welcome. Have we met?”

Zayn shakes his head ruefully. He knows it isn’t his responsibility, really, who his best mate goes home with. But after witnessing almost a year of Louis Tomlinson in his depressed slut era, Zayn’s beginning to lose sight of the future he’d dreamed up for them when they were 18. One where the two of them were destined to take London by storm, side-by-side — them against the world, into eternity. He grasps Louis’ jaw in his hand like it’s his last hope. “You’re better than a sloppy, after-hours rim job, LouLou.”

“Am I, though?” Louis challenges, attempting to squirm free of Zayn’s hold, and undoubtedly regretting it when it only makes Zayn squeeze tighter, squishing Louis’ forward cheeks adorably. “Regardless,” he continues through smushed lips, “I believe we’re gathered here today to talk about your self-confidence, Malik. Not mine.”

[piebingo]

Sunday snippet

This is from a new little something, which I hope I can get the first chapter out soon. Second chance love type of thing.

It’s the sweater that makes Simon move, walking closer to where Wilhelm is still frozen.

“Hey.”

His eyes roam over Wilhelm, taking everything in. He’s so different, his face sharper, more angular, and his eyes calmer even when they don’t seem to know where to settle on Simon. He has to tip his head back farther than before to look up at him and Simon’s eyes catch a hint of stubble on his chin.

But above all, he’s still the same. Underneath all of the differences and the years that have passed still stands Wille. Not Wilhelm, and certainly not the Crown Prince —though that person hasn’t existed for more than a year now— but Wille. The one that used to be his.

“Hey.” His voice is deeper but as gentle as Simon remembers. “You’ve— you got a haircut.”

It’s so familiar, yet so different. Simon wants to cry. He doesn’t, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth instead.

[bigalockwood]

Sunday Snippet 👻

From the final chapter, actually genuinely finally coming next week.

When Wille looked back up at Simon, his eyes were still empty and unseeing.

“I killed my own brother.” All the emotion that had been missing from it before made Wille’s voice tremble now.

[gulliblelemon]

Sunday Snippet

I have survived the last week and a half! (Somehow). And I come bearing a snippet from a now completed, slightly-longer-than-it-was-supposed-to-be 'experimental oneshot'. I just need to edit the mess offline mode made of my document, but hopefully I'll get to share it soon. (People following the progress of the childhood friends fic will also be pleased to know that I've been working on that too.)

-

With intent, Felice chucked the cardigan she was holding in her hands at Nils. He squawked and lifted his arms to protect himself, spilling water everywhere in the process. “What the fuck was that for?” he cried, shaking his wet hair out of his face and laying the glass down on the table. “Fuck’s sake, Felice. I’m all wet now.”

“You asked Simon?” she demanded, rounding the table and sitting down in the armchair opposite them.

Nils wiped his hands on his t-shirt and sent her a scathing look. Very used to Nils, Felice just glared back at him until he sighed. “Yes. I asked Simon. So what?”

“So what?” Felice’s voice went shrill and Wille felt like he might be missing something.

“Yeah,” Nils said. “So what.”

“So,” Felice said, slowly and deliberately. “Simon is off limits.”

Nils scoffed and leant back into the sofa again. “Not any more, he’s not. He got rid of the dead weight didn’t he? Free as a bird. And therefore back on the table.”

“Nils,” Felice said, her tone warning. And then, for some reason, her eyes very pointedly moved to Wille and back to Nils. “That wasn’t why he was off limits.”

[skibasyndrome]

sunday snippet (slightly nsfw)

writing has been kind of challenging again recently, but I've been trying to make some progress with my beloved requested spa wilmon. sooo for self-motivational purposes: have a little sneak peek of Wille struggling

Wille’s gotten massages before, plenty of them. So this shouldn’t be a problem.

It should be the opposite of a problem, he should be relaxing, should feel the tension drain out of him, should feel relief at the hands working on the tightness of his muscles. But he’s failing, he’s failing so hard. Nothing about this feels relaxing at all. Every slide of Simon’s slick hands over his back reminds him that he’s currently very naked. With a very, very pretty man touching him. And that that is a creepy thought to be having when you’re just getting a fucking massage. But surely he can make it out of this alive and without being a weirdo about it. He can think about other things, about something else, anything else that isn’t the fact that Simon’s pressing into Wille’s skin right where it makes Wille clench his teeth in order not to let out a noise he knows is going to sound embarrassing. Simon really, really knows what he’s doing.  Which he has to, goddammit, Wille reminds himself. He has to, because this is his job, he’s a professional and that is all there is to this. Wille presses his eyelids shut so hard, he feels a little sting in his head. Not very relaxed of him.

When Simon digs both thumbs into his traps, right where they run up his neck, Wille fails to bite back a whimper. When he feels the hands slide off his back again, he’s more than glad to be face down with his burning cheeks hidden from view. How has he never thought about the sounds he lets out during a massage before? Simon clears his throat and Wille’s ears perk up. “Uhh," he sounds a little unsure, a little strained. Wille wants to sink into the floor. "You should try to keep breathing, otherwise you’re just gonna tense up more.” He runs an oiled up palm over Wille’s shoulder blade, maybe in a comforting, soothing way, but Wille thinks the soft touch might be even worse than Simon digging the heel of his hand into his muscles. He hums in agreement, not trusting his voice to come out in any way that is helpful. Of course Simon would notice that Wille is clenching his teeth through this fucking massage. There’s only hoping that he’ll never find out that Wille is embarrassingly, horrifyingly half-hard under that flimsy towel that’s wrapped around his hips.