#wippet snippet

[heart-0f-a-rebel16]

I’m gonna throw up these dorks are so cheesy

[phoenixiancrystallist]

425 words of an adorable Frey and Knell interaction for @cruelfeline :)

~

"You're quiet," Frey said since the sound of her footsteps and nothing else just about drove her nuts.

"I'm sorry," came Knell's immediate response. "What would you like to talk about?"

Frey shrugged. "Nothing, really. I'm just used to Cuff chatting my ear off."

"Ah."

And that's the end of that conversation. Frey frowned at the overgrown road in front of her. Not even the wind as it rustled through grasses and flowers helped. Bodhi cavorted a ways off, also silent. No playful mews or anything.

Athia had no goddamned right to be so fucking quiet.

"It's simply that you told me we were done talking and I'm trying to respect that," Knell said in a rush after they'd dealt with a pack of lymnocyon. Frey's feet stopped and she raised her left hand to look at the jewelry.

"Just about the plant." And Frey's romantic interests; no way in hell'd she bring that up again just in case Knell pounced on it. A beat of silence preceded a noise of comprehension from Knell.

"Ah. It seems I once again misunderstood your request, Frey. I'll try to do better in the future."

"Nah, it's cool. At least you're polite."

"Oh, well, thank you. I do try"

"Did you do that with Bobbi a lot?" Frey asked as she resumed her trek. "Misunderstandings and all that?"

"Not in particular," Knell said. "But she so rarely made requests of me."

"Not very demanding, huh?"

"Oh, no," Knell chuckled, "no, I simply took responsibility for the predicament I accidentally thrust upon her. I suppose in so doing I assumed a more... matronly role than is appropriate to take with a Tanta."

"Yeah, well, don't put me on some kind of pedestal or anything," Frey said, half grumble.

"I assure you, I'm not. There's simply a matter of propriety—"

"Look." Frey sighed. Not the tone she'd meant to take; too damn snappy. She tried again. "We're gonna be stuck together for awhile. I've got shit to do and I can't let you just fuck off to do who knows what in Athia, you know?"

"Of course, Frey. It's perfectly understandable." Sounded like Knell meant it, too.

"Right, so, I'm not cool with all that pomp and circumstance bullshit. Treat me like Bobbi. I'm just like her except I can move shit with my mind. Okay?"

"This is... highly unorthodox," Knell admitted. "I'm afraid it quite goes against my nature to treat a Tanta so casually. The most I can promise is that I will try, Frey."

"I'll take it."

[novemberhush]

I’m posting this in the hopes that it’ll make me actually finish something (slightly) longer than a drabble. (Nobody hold their breath, though.)

Anyway, this is from a fic that was originally supposed to be a drabble (which I started back in August of last year and then abandoned) for a set of prompt words from the @sterekdrabbles blog, but there was no way I could make it work in just 100 words, at least not in the way I wanted, so, if I do manage to finish it, I’ll be submitting it to the @sterekdrabblesgonelong blog instead. Check both blogs out for all your Sterek needs!

“Derek! Come on! Dance with me! Pleeeeeeeeeease!” Stiles wheedled, his speech grown more slurred since he’d disappeared into the heaving throng on the dancefloor with Erica hours before and not looked back. Clearly they’d found the bar at some point.

Derek sighed the long-suffering sigh of ‘too sober for this shit’ people everywhere.

“How much alcohol has he had exactly?”

An unrepentant Erica shrugged, smirking, before an unsteady Stiles, swaying like the pendulum in the old grandfather clock that used to stand in the hall of Derek’s childhood home, interrupted with a question of his own.

“Are you scared?”

I tag @all-or-nothing-baby @stellarmeadow @chaoticfandomgirly and anyone else who feels like sharing something they might be working on (doesn’t matter if we’re mutuals or not). No pressure on anyone who doesn’t feel like sharing/have anything to share.❤️

[jamiesfootball]

Blue rose pastries! (Not tentacle monsters.)

These are so mesmerizing. Have a snippet!

“Sam looks like he can handle things on the fly because he trains so much, but he doesn’t do well with surprises. If something unexpected happens, he freezes up. If I’ve gotta move the ball on the fly, it’s going to Dani. He likes a little spontaneity.” Roy made another note- “Put Sam in more situations.”

[tenderhooked]

Legit anything with Jamie pls and thanks 🌹🌹

SORRY TO EVERYONE i am currently on my football kiddos agenda so. that is what y'all are getting. SORRY.

Jamie’s brow furrows, as if he’s thinking through the merits of a post-footie treat that’s not a scone. If his expression is any indication, it’s a grave consideration. “D’you promise?” he asks, at length. He gnaws on his thumb a little, and then tugs it from his mouth, like he doesn’t want to be caught. “Yes,” Roy says. “Pinky fucking promise.” “Even���even if I don’t make all the goals?” Jamie says. His voice is pitched, high and tremulous. “I get a sweet even if I don’t make all the goals?”

jamie............. JAMIE!!!!

[antitheticallyargumentative]

🌹

from any wip of your choosing they are all lovely <3

you are getting more of this infernal scene from the jamie study that took me three literal weeks to get through.

“I’d say fuck you.” Jamie spits it out without really thinking, cos he’d never say it to his dads face. The closest he ever got was don’t speak to me like that. Don’t speak to me like that. Don’t speak to me like that. It didn’t even feel that good, like he thought it were s’posed to. Felt fucking terrifying, really.

Ted doesn’t like swearing that much, Jamie doesn’t think, but he nods thoughtfully again and goes, “Makes sense. Anything else?”

A jolt of panic goes through him. Ted’s lookin’ down like he expects something, eyebrows raised all friendly and open-like, but Jamie can’t help but feel like he’s fucked it, somehow. Maybe by going with fuck you. Ted’s not one for vitriol, no, he'd rather say something sweet and then turn a blind eye. It might work for some people. It’s never worked for Jamie. “Yeah,” he fumbles, his breath hitching funny. His dad made him good at football, right? That’s something worth being grateful for. “I’d say… thank you.”

tyyyyy :)

[adickaboutspoons]

Rules: Post the last line in your current WIP and tag as many people as there are words.

Ed briefly weighed the pros of maybe accidentally getting stabbed again and letting Stede tend to his wounds against the cons of explaining the how and why of the butter knife’s current location embedded in the wall.

I should have been abed an hour ago, so if you want to do it, consider yourself tagged!

[phoenixiancrystallist]

He grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her down into a kiss, messy with the blood staining his lips and dribbling down his chin.

"Never," he hissed, "ever apologize for the greatest gift anyone's ever given me. Now fucking run before they find you."

She huffed, wrinkled her nose in blatant defiance. She would not run. They both knew it. Stubborn, headstrong fool. He loved her for that, too, even as he hated her for it.

Writing Prompt #2960

"I'm sorry for loving you." She admitted. "It got us into this mess, and I don't think it's going to get us out of it."

[ofmermaidstories]

a snippet (wippet) from the shouto fic:

[phoenixiancrystallist]

*whispers* I wrote a thing :D Just need to polish it up and I'll post it for Christmas, but I'ma share a bit of it bc I'm super happy about it 💜

~

Cinta knew she could never atone for her sins, could never undo the hurt, could never erase the memories of loneliness, anger, and abandonment. What she could do, through a miracle beyond her design, was give her beloved Alfre new memories. Memories filled with love, and care, and togetherness, and laughter.

And song.

"Happy birthday to you." Cinta's voice wavered with her uncertainty. Frey's eyes snapped up to Cinta's again, wide with warring emotions. Cinta smiled.

"Happy birthday to you," she continued with more confidence, watched her Alfre's expression shift from incredulity to dawning horror.

"No."

"Happy birthday, dear Alfre."

"Oh my god, no, stop—"

"Happy birthday," Cinta finished, pulling her daughter into another tight embrace, "to you."

[manygeese]

snippets from my wippets 😎

@puzzled-pegasus

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Frey sighed through her teeth. "I'm sorry."

"There," Cuff said, "was that so hard?"

"Yeah, it was fucking torture." She hesitated, then continued. "But you're right. I should have listened to you."

Cuff chuckled, but it ended on a pained grunt as Frey scrubbed a little too hard trying to buff out the gouge Gigas had left on him. "Apology accepted. I'm sorry, too."

That surprised her. "For what?"

"That I couldn't protect you at the end there."

Frey had to stop what she was doing so she didn't make the damage he'd taken worse. "Wha— Cuff, you were broken! I almost thought you were dead!"

"You mean you hoped?" Cuff teased despite the pain in his voice.

"No, idiot, I was scared shitless! You're my only friend out here, I—" She cut off. She'd said too much. Let her heart run away with her mouth. The worst part was she couldn't run this time; whatever Cuff decided to do with that, she was stuck with him. Her only solace was he couldn't just throw her away like her foster parents had every time she started to get attached. They were stuck together, but if he wanted to leave like everyone else anyway—

"Frey? Frey, I need you to take a deep breath."

She did. It didn't help, but she took another one just in case that did the trick.

"I'm not going to leave you, Frey," he promised, and at first she was certain she'd heard him wrong. 

Prompt #1030

"Do you really need me to say it?"

"Yes. Please."

[jamiesfootball]

🌹🌹🌹 please tear through them like chips. We will send more!

You are so freaking nice to me. Here's a snippet from the the 5+1 jamie falling asleep pavlovian fic:

Then from the front of the bus, in a voice that wasn’t trying to be quiet, Jan Maas said, "Well this is awkward."

The blood rushed to his face, humiliation settling thick in his throat as his eyes prickled. Beside him he felt Roy stiffen like a brick, a sensation so clear that Jamie didn't need check to see the expression of murder on his face.

"Jan," Isaac snapped, his voice booming and captain-ly. "What the fuck?"

"What are we supposed to do, pretend otherwise? That was shit." Louder, he added, "That was shit, Jamie!"

"Oh my God,” said Moe. Jamie couldn't agree more.

"Read the room, man," Cockburn added, sounding hoarse for some reason.

“I’m going to kill him,” Roy hissed under his breath, and even though Jamie knew, he knew it couldn't possibly be aimed at him this time--he hadn't done anything, he'd barely fought back--the words set something scrambling in his chest, making him flinch hard against the window like a wounded animal trying to break free.

There was a shuffling from the seat in front of him. A soft voice asked, "Amigo?"

[tenderhooked]

🌹🌹 brings my empty bowl of football kiddos angsty whumpy goodness up to you, please may I have some more?

always ALWAYS!!!

Christ. First it was Lasso and his fucking mustache, now it’s Keeley and her fucking pom-poms. Maybe Roy should put up more decorations around the flat; the walls are bare and white, blank as a fresh canvas, and probably not much fun for a fuck-muppet to stare at all day without end. He’s completely goddamn clueless when it comes to child-rearing, but he’s seen those idiots online who deck their nurseries out in beige and grey. There’s something real fucking sad about a kid growing up in the dark like that. Roy’s not much for the sun, but he’ll fling the windows wide open if it means Jamie doesn’t have to be one of them. And if it also means Jamie will quit babbling on about mustaches and pom-poms and people who’ll ruin him the minute Roy lets them get too close, well. Roy can keep that bit to himself.

royo means so much to me!!!!! sorry royo. everything will be okay (eventually).

[antitheticallyargumentative]

🌹🌹🌹🌹 i can’t remember if i already sent any but love to read whatever you want to share with the class

thank youuuu <3 here’s a bit i wrote recently from the season 4 fic

tw- jamie’s dad, mention/implication of the Amsterdam Thing (not detailed. but there.)

There’s a singular framed photo on the table, in a room that is otherwise bare of personal touches. The glass is dusty, like it’d just been pulled out of a storage box, or something. Jamie can’t help but wonder if his dad might’ve set it there, just this morning. Just for this. Then he can’t help but feel guilty for assuming shit like that. Then he can’t feel much of anything, cos he’s looking at the photograph, really, now, and it’s Jamie and Dad, and Jamie’s fourteen at the Johan Cruijff, and he remembers Dad got someone to take that picture at halftime, when Jamie was smiling cos he thought — Before— Before— He turns away, hands shaking and tingly. He shoves them in his pockets.

you can always send me asks babes , i thrive off the pressure to provide Content

[woundedsoul12]

Sunday Wippet Snippets (but like Monday Morning)

Whatever I was tagged by my baby @thepickledmermaid and anyway little late for the party but here goes

This is from my Dead Dove Emmrich x Rook Their Darkest Desires

Emmrich was not a man to make mistakes. His calculations were precise. His decisions final. His predictions correct. It was how he had survived all these years without being detected. Never allowing for himself to slip like so many others had. Until tonight.