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#Snippet Sunday
buffaluff · 2 months
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no one tagged me but welcome to my
💖 snippet sunday 💐
or maybe i’ll just start calling it sketchbook sunday or something or other, we’ll see! just anything i’m working on pre-final scan ☺️
tagging anyone who wants to share a doodle today (or any day, i’m not your boss but show me!)
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hawkeykirsah · 7 months
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Snippet Sunday
Did I start working on another Icemav fic? I sure did! Have some Matchmaker Goose.
“Oh my God,” Goose said suddenly next to him. “You like him.” A shiver ran down his spine. “What?” Ice hissed. “No.” Goose just gave him a look, and Tom remembered that he’d been one of the few people at the Academy to know about his…preferences. And with few he meant less than five, two of which were currently in this very room. “You like him,” Goose repeated in a low tone, careful not to be overheard, “and it’s pissing you off.” “His flying is pissing me off,” he shot back, thinking back to their hop earlier that day. “Mhm.” Ice ground his teeth together so hard his jaw ached. Goose had it all wrong. He did not like Maverick Mitchell like that; he did not. Sure, he was scarily competent when he wasn’t actively ignoring all rules of engagement and he wasn’t hard on the eyes with his bright smile, all crooked teeth and laugh lines, and green eyes and that blush when he’d been straddling— Oh fuck him sideways. He did. What the fuck, he did not need this.
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greenvlvetcouch · 8 months
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snippet sunday (just cause i can)
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“And does he speak of the moments he is not?”
“He says he remembers them but won’t tell us much more than that.”
James nods, contemplative, and shoves his hands into his pockets. “And have you spoken to him? Exorcisms cannot be performed on someone against their—“
Remus is barely listening, everything being said is filtering out. Bouncing around the hallway they’re standing in, bypassing him completely as he stares straight ahead.
He’s on his hands and knees on a bed, peeking past the door frame down the hall. Looking right at Remus. Bare chested and the sunlight is painting a sliver of gold against his delicate spine, surrounded by soft yellow. The sheets look soft from the years. From restless sleep and warmth wearing down the fibers.
Remus could count the small ridges if he took a step closer, could run his finger over them. Could watch the light dance with the soft breeze swaying the curtains if he just took one step closer.
Dark hair falling over his shoulders, spilling over his hands on the bed like silk, between his fingers, covering his arms. Much too long, he arches his back further and further, sliding his hands out agains the comforter. Temptation.
An easy and slow movement like life is an indulgence, and there’s not a care in the world. How could there be? His lips part and he tilts his head. Feline, almost.
Remus thinks of a cat, lying lazy in the sun that’s filling him with indifference towards the humans that serve him.
Hills and valleys, sharp shoulder blades. Long lashes and dimples at the base of his spine that the sun dances off of as he preens for Remus.
“And his brother?” James asks.
She looks down her nose at him and clasps her hands behind her back. “Is not here right now; only Sirius is.”
Sirius.
Remus swallows.
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teencopandthesourwolf · 5 months
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SNIPPET SUNDAY
tagged by the lovely @outtoshatter to take part. but it's monday! i hear you cry... yeah, sue me. this is a stiles's-perpetually-open-bedroom-window sterek wip fic that is growing incredibly s l o w l y but growing none the less.
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"I'm gonna buy you a bell to wear around that thick neck of yours, 'wolf," Stiles threatens, and thinks he might actually mean it.
"You'd have to buy me a collar, first."
And—what?
Maybe Stiles isn't actually awake yet.
He thought he heard the sourwolf making a dog joke. Actually, forget the canine inclusion, that part doesn't even matter...
Derek Hale just made a joke.
Stiles must look incredulous as fuck because Derek's face softens a little. Hell, the big guy almost smiles, his smooth lips twitching adorably.
Stiles's frazzled brain needle scratches dramatically.
Then, it backtracks a little.
"Wait, how did you know I was having a nightmare?" he asks, momentarily puzzled. He wipes a clammy arm across his clammy face, waiting for his mind to whirr into action.
Derek must've—
Oh.
"Dude, were you hanging around outside my window?"
Derek looks shifty.
Well, shiftier than usual.
.
tagging, play or nay: @shealynn88 @sharkfish @novemberhush @greyhavenisback @ohhalefire @jmeelee @wolfspurr @nerdherderette and any others i can't think of rn that i should be tagging plus anybody else at all who wants to do the thing; just feel free to say i tagged you xp
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lizpaige · 1 month
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snippet sunday
i have many half written beginnings of ideas that i may or may not come back to so why not share them on a wip/snippet sharing post?
“Your boy is calling.”
Ronan sat up on the couch just in time to catch his phone from Hennessy tossing it to him. He answered the call immediately.
“Hey.”
Hennessy threw a pillow at him, whacking him in the head. Ronan grabbed it and threw it back at her, getting up to duck out of the room. They were in Ronan’s new apartment, Ronan and Adam’s new apartment starting tomorrow when Adam moved out of the dorms. It was the end of the school year and Adam was transferring to Georgetown in the fall.
“Hey.” Adam’s voice always seemed to warm him up. There was a lot of noise on the other end.
“What’s happening over there?”
A puff of air blew into the phone. “Party. Finals are over. Everyone’s door is open on my floor and they dumped all their leftover alcohol in this big plastic storage bin and they’ve been passing it around.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah, it’s really not that bad.”
“You’re drinking that toxic waste? That’s hardcore, Parrish.”
“Yeah, well…” Ronan could hear the sound of a door shutting and the cacophony of dorm room celebration became muffled. “They don’t really take no for an answer. I’m hiding in my room trying to pack. What were you doing?”
Now that he could really hear him, Ronan picked up on Adam’s accent, in full swing, dropping the ends of words, melodic in its cadence, dipping low and swaying up high. There were only a few times when Adam would let his Henrietta accent back in. When he was very tired, which was possible since he had just worked his ass off with exams. When he was alone with Ronan or close friends, because he didn’t try to hide it from those he trusted. Or on the very rare occasion that he was under the influence. Ronan got him high once and could barely even understand Adam, he was too turned on to try and decipher whatever he was saying.
Adam rarely drank, so Ronan rarely received any drunk texts or calls. Ronan didn’t really drink either anymore. For Adam’s birthday last year, Gansey, Henry, and Blue came to the Barns and they had a big barbeque, fire pit, and Ronan fixed up a dreamt projector to show some shitty action movies on the side of the long barn. Ronan drank a little, Adam drank a little more. He was tipsy at best, but ended up falling asleep in Ronan’s lap in front of everyone by the end of the night.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Ronan bit back a smile at the dropped ‘g’. “Just hanging out with Hennessy. Why’d you call?”
“I don’t know.” A pause… and then, “just missed you.”
Ronan bit back a smile. “Missed me, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“You a little tipsy there?”
“No,” Adam answered too fast, as if his voice wasn’t incriminating enough.
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mollywog · 2 months
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Snippet Sunday
I have WIP I should focus on, but today my mind kept wondering to a non-hijacked D13 reunion. I know it’s been done a hundred times, but here’s part of a hundred and one.
“Miss you need to leave,” the voice of one of the doctors interrupts us.
Anyone who thinks I’ll willingly go now that I have Peeta back must be mad. I straighten my spine and tell him as much. Peeta’s hand locked firmly in mine reassures me.
One of the other doctors, an older woman, with frown lines and a tight bun steps in, “this is all very unorthodox. We need to complete our assessment and protocol dictates that only a family member may be present outside of visiting hours. You are free to return then.”
Dread pools in my stomach at the mention of family. I hadn’t thought past our reunion; hadn’t planned the way to tell him his whole family is gone. But one glance at his face tells me I won’t need to. He already knows or at least suspects. I’ll be damned if I leave him now.
“I am his family. I'm his wife.”
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thesleepyskipper · 4 days
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So I normally don't do this, but I think it's one of the days people share stuff so I thought I'd give it a go.
Sharing a snippet of my @aroyallybigbangrwrb fic…is this dumb? Hopefully not. 😂
"The day Henry moved into his new flat was truly a most excellent day. It was springtime in New York; the sun was actually shining, flowers were fragrantly blooming at the park nearby and today was the day he would begin his new life. Henry was finally getting the opportunity to establish himself in his own place, in a city he was ready to call his own, far away from his meddling family. An entire ocean between them felt like almost enough to feel comfortable living life the way he had wanted.
That was also the day that he first met his neighbour, Alex.
Alex was drop-dead gorgeous, with big, brown eyes and soft, fluffy dark curls sitting atop his head. He also had a body that completely stopped Henry in his tracks, even though he was simultaneously carrying an extremely heavy box of books. Henry could make out the hard lines of his abs below his tight black t-shirt. He stared at Alex for a few more seconds than was typically polite and while his biceps were absolutely burning from the weight of the box in his arms, he did not care one bit. Despite the fact that his mouth was occupied with trying to keep from almost drooling, he tried his best to give the stranger a kind (and hopefully not creepy) smile.
Alex gave a friendly wave in return as he walked down the hall, approaching Henry and his large stack of packing boxes. “Hey there, new neighbour!”
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rmd-writes · 6 months
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Firstprince eating off each others plates! (See my DM about specific vibes if I’m allowed 😂)
I’ve assigned each prompt I received a number and am using a random number generator to choose which prompt to write because I got quite a few from you all! If you’ve sent me one, I promise I will get to it!! Because I’m using these prompts to try to shake words loose after a bout of writer’s block, these are all just whatever I can come up with in ~20min and barely edited 💖
Thanks for the prompt, Ally! Hopefully I’ve captured the vibes you asked for here 🙏🏽
Seeing as it’s Sunday night, I’m taking the opportunity to use this as my seven sentence/snippet Sunday post!
24. Eating off each other’s plates
“Hello, strumpet,” a familiar voice says from the doorway.
Alex twists in his chair to confirm what he knows – Pez is standing in the doorway.
“You look in dire need of an intervention, poppet,” Pez declares as he crosses the room.
“Hey Pez,” Alex says, leaning forward to accept the cheek kiss that Pez offers. “You’re looking fabulous.”
“Always,” he replies, spinning so that Alex can get the full effect of his cropped, lavender hair, floral blouse and tight black jeans cuffed above embossed black patent leather combat boots. “This is an intervention by the way. Henry sent me up, certain that I might have better luck coaxing you out of this den.”
Alex looks around. There are stacks of paper covering his desk, and the floor. As well as textbooks, pens and several empty coffee mugs strewn across his desk.
“I’m studying, I don’t need a fucking intervention,” he insists.
Pez wrinkles his nose. “Oh honey, you do. Trust me. Up you pop! Haz tells me you’ve found some amazing food trucks close by and there are empanadas calling my name.”
Alex sits beside Henry, their shoulders and knees pressed together as they eat, while Pez sits across from them moaning obscenely as he eats the empanadas and declares them “the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
“High praise, considering the long list of things that have been in your mouth,” Henry says drily.
Pez is clearly delighted by his friend’s response and Alex grins. He loves it when Henry is like this – happy and relaxed enough to let his snarky side out. There are very few people who get to see this side of him, but it might be Alex’s favourite.
Alex had ordered every kind of empanada on offer in rapid-fire Spanish, gesturing at Pez and explaining to the woman behind the counter why he and Henry weren’t just ordering their standard order.
There’s an array of paper boats holding the crescent-shaped pastries on the table and Alex has one in front of him.
“Is that the chorizo?” Henry asks him. Alex nods. “Here, swap, I have your favourite spicy beef ones.”
Alex sucks a bit of filling off the end of his thumb before reaching for the paper tray in front of Henry. He doesn’t miss the way that Henry’s eyes dip to his mouth as he does so, or the way that Henry’s pupils dilate a little. He smirks.
And if he makes sure to get some of the coriander crema on his finger when he dips his empanada into the container so that he can lick it off again, well, no one can prove it was deliberate.
(You can read all of my intimate moments prompts here)
Thanks for the tags @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @redshirt2 💖
Tagging @welcometololaland @lightningboltreader @everwitch-magiks @clottedcreamfudge @rosedavid @lilythesilly @nontoxic-writes @stutteringpeach @inexplicablymine @daisymae-12 (art wip maybe?) @jesuisici33 @hippolotamus @stereopticons @kiwiana-writes @carlos-in-glasses @liminalmemories21 @reyesstrand @freneticfloetry @strandnreyes @three-drink-amy @alrightbuckaroo to please leave me with snippets to wake up to??? 💖
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elysianholly · 11 days
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Masquerade (WIP)
Thought I'd share a bit of my upcoming Elysian Fields April Challenge fic. This is plotted at 16 chapters, and 5 are complete at the moment. There's zero chance the whole fic will be done by the end of April, so the current plan is to post the first chapter and then wait and schedule the rest for later this year.
Inspired by this challenge on Elysian Fields. As of yet unbeta'd.
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Title: Masquerade
Pairing: Buffy/Spike
Timeline: Post-Chosen
Expected Publication: Mid-2024
-------------------------------------- “So,” Willow said blankly once Buffy reached the end of her sales pitch. “You’re…staying. In Los Angeles. Indefinitely.”
Buffy furrowed her brow, glanced around at the others. It was just the core gang—Willow and Xander, Giles and Dawn, plus Faith and Kennedy, the latter of whom was there more an accessory to Willow, considering Buffy didn’t give a crap how she voted. Those girls who were set on seeing through the slayer gig were out with Andrew, and thank god for that, as there wasn’t enough room in her father’s house to accommodate everyone. Barely enough room to accommodate the people she was looking at. All of whom were looking at her with varying degrees of uncertainty. Something Buffy did not appreciate.
“No,” she said slowly. “I’m not staying in Los Angeles indefinitely. Just until we find out what Angel is up to.”
“And what do we think he’s up to?” Xander asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. The eyepatch and shaggy hair gave him an air of manufactured authority that Buffy could do without, particularly when he was looking at her like she had a screw loose. “No offense, Buff, but none of us even knew this law firm was a thing until, what, last week?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just that you seem really worried about something that wasn’t on our radar before.”
“Xander, how do you think things end up on our radar?”
He shifted a bit at that, gave the room a look with his good eye as though trying to drum up support. “I’m just saying… Is it possible that you’re overreacting to this Angel news?”
“How so?”
“Because Spike died,” Kennedy said shortly, then threw up her hands when Willow shot her a warning look. “What? It’s what we’re all thinking, right? She learned that the necklace or whatever that killed her boyfriend came from this law firm and suddenly it’s all she can talk about. She didn’t even care until that Angel guy told her.”
“I didn’t care?” Buffy echoed, her shoulders going tense. Not that that was saying much—she was always tense whenever Kennedy opened her mouth, and usually for good reason. “According to who? You?”
“What? You were all proud of him on the trip up.”
“I’m still proud of him. I can be proud of him and suspicious about the thing that killed him at the same time.” She turned to glare at Willow—it was safer than glaring at Kennedy directly. Not as likely to lead to a larger screaming match, and therefore easier on her blood pressure. “The amulet—”
“Closed the Hellmouth,” Giles said in his watcher voice, or as she was starting to consider it, his I-know-better-than-you voice. “It worked as it should have. And given the information Angel was provided, we can’t say that the other outcome was unprecedented. The amulet was said to have cleansing powers—it did. Angel also told you that it was volatile, dangerous. It was. What exactly do you think you would have done differently?”
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writer-in-theory · 8 months
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Smooth Talkin', So Rockin' - Snippet
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I wanted to share a little bit of what I've been working on since February. This is a small part of my fic for the Steddie Big Bang event (@steddiebang ). Huge thanks to them for running this event, or I wouldn't have tackled just a large project.
In this fic, Steve is just Steve Harrington by day, but by night, he's performing in sold-out stadiums as iconic popstar Zayne Maine. Eddie Munson is an up-and-coming rock star hell-bent on proving Zayne's not all he's cracked up to be.
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“When are you going to admit Zayne’s a good person and a good singer? Clearly, you think so, otherwise, you wouldn’t be here," Chrissy asked.
“When he admits he had no good reason to cover our song,” Eddie responded quickly, still not sure if he even believes it anymore, “and when he stops being so popular, Jesus Christ.” 
“You’re unbearable and I can’t wait to see your face when he proves you wrong live.”
“We’ll see about that,” Eddie spoke, glancing around for anyone he could use to prove his point. Most people were busy by now, rushing to accomplish every last-minute task before the start of the show. The openers were on, leaving only a precious few minutes to get everything set up.
There was one person, though, standing off to the side like he meant to disappear in the crowd.
He wore all black like many of the crew did, though instead of working like the rest of them he was leaning against a wall sipping on a bottle of water. An intern, maybe? Well, Eddie wasn’t above bothering the interns if it meant proving himself right.
“Hey!” Eddie called, waving the unknown man over. The man looked shocked, pulling an earbud out and pointing to himself like this was the first time someone purposefully noticed him. “C’mere, I have a question.”
The man listened, and walked over close enough that Eddie could get a better look at him. He was, admittedly, gorgeous in the kind of way that only normal people got to be. He was unassuming in his comfort clothes, with the kind of flowing hair that would normally have Eddie swooning and bright, brown eyes that were earnest in their focus. “Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham, right? What can I, uh, do for you?”
“I’m so glad you asked,” Eddie said with a Cheshire grin, ignoring Chrissy’s eye roll. “You see, Chrissy and I were having a debate amongst geniuses, and we need you to be our tiebreaker.”
“Oh, oh I don’t think I’m your guy. I can go get—” He looked a little like a deer caught in headlights, doe-eyes wide as they flicked between Eddie and Chrissy. It was charming, the way he seemed so shocked that Eddie was talking to him now. 
“On the contrary...what’s your name, man?”
“Steve. Steve Harrington.”
Steve Harrington. Delightfully plain, with no obvious connections to anyone in the industry. This might be the first person Eddie could talk to in L.A. with zero strings attached, no expectations or cameras watching them. 
“Well, Harrington, I need someone on my side. Think you can do that?”
“Depends,” Steve answered, smoothly dodging the arm Eddie went to sling around his shoulders. He raised his eyebrows, arms crossed almost like he was trying to size up Eddie. It was an attitude that not many people took with him anymore, either because they were too starstruck or too terrified of him. “Think you can be a little less cryptic?”
“That might be kinda hard, I am known as the Cryptid of Hawkins.”
Steve’s laugh was like the bells of Notre Dame—bright, music-like, and commanding in a way that had Eddie clinging to the sound for more. 
“You’re not called that,” Steve returned, completely focused on the conversation despite the growing commotion around them.
“Oh, so you’ve heard of me.”
“I have,” Steve said, “It’s hard not to, you’re kinda popular.”
“Say that to the Midwestern moms who form protests outside our concerts,” Eddie laughed, remembering all of the angry signs that rivaled all the good ones at his last show in Indianapolis. 
“Hey, bad press is still press,” Steve answered, shrugging once like the concept didn’t bother him much. In general, nothing seemed to phase him despite talking to a not unfamous musician while backstage at one of the biggest concerts of the year. Who was this guy? “So what was it you needed?”
“Oh, right! What d’you think of Zayne Maine? It’s a safe space, I promise I won’t tell,” Eddie asked with a light teasing tone in his voice.
Surprise took over Steve’s expression then, coming in a slow wave as he clearly tried to comprehend the question. Then he laughed, a nervous thing that ended with Steve’s hand running through his beach waves. Right when Eddie was about to ask what was so funny, Steve asked, “You really wanna know what I think of Zayne Maine?”
“Only honest opinions will be accepted,” Eddie answered, “Chrissy over there seems to think he deserves all this hype.”
By the time Steve opened his mouth to respond, the commotion backstage finally caught his attention. Steve turned his head as someone asked where Zayne had gone, his cheeks flushing pink as he watched the crew search for the missing popstar.
“I think that’s my cue,” Steve sighed, beginning to step back from Eddie, “I should go find him.”
“Are you his PA?” Eddie asked then, feeling his heart begin to race. Did he really just ask Zayne Maine’s personal assistant if he thought the man was an asshole? No wonder he wanted to get away from Eddie so soon! The first time Eddie met someone gorgeous, funny, and completely out of the celebrity circle he goes and has to ruin it. Screw Zayne Maine for making him trash talk the guy’s boss.
“Something like that,” Steve answered, shaking his head and beginning to walk backward, somehow managing to stay out of everyone else’s path like he already knew where they'd be. If Eddie were to have tried something smooth like that, he would’ve fallen flat on his face in seconds. “Come find me after the show, I’ll give you my answer then, Eddie.”
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yasmindifference · 11 months
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snippet sunday
Sorry I haven’t posted anything in forever, it’s ✨the depression✨ and also I was in other fandoms. But I’m feeling better and I actually wrote some stuff today!
“Sounds like a you problem,” Tim said without looking away from the screen, and Jason scoffed.
“Sure, ‘til you get pissy about me putting him down,” he said, “and then it becomes an us problem. Just tryin’ to get ahead of the curve.”
Tim paused. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, the coding he’d worked out slipping away like smoke.
Jason...was asking for a solution other than murder. Was asking for Tim’s help in avoiding murder. And he was doing it...because if he did commit murder, it would come between them?
This wasn’t Jason looking for advice. This was Jason meeting him halfway, the way he’d asked.
Warm all the way through, Tim swiveled his chair to face Jason. He hoped the smile he couldn’t fight didn’t look as stupid as it felt.
“Okay,” he said. “Tell me everything.”
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lovelylittlegrim · 2 months
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Snippet Sunday: Vacancy Signs chapter 17 (did I put the wrong chapter? Yes.)
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hawkeykirsah · 5 months
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Sunday Snippet
Some Soapghost today because reasons.
“Why do I like you again?” The Scot cackled, sliding his hands up his back again. “My sparkling wits ‘n charming personality. Plus I hear I’m quite the looker.” “Whoever told you that deserves to be knocked flat on their arse,” Ghost replied drily, resting his forehead on his arms. “That’d be you, then, Si. Pretty sure you called me pretty jus’ the other day.” “Maybe you should get your hearing checked,” Ghost rumbled into his pillow, the muffled sound hiding the smirk on his face as much as his balaclava. “When’s your next physical? I’ll make sure to tell medical to check your ears.” Johnny huffed. “Ye're a right bawbag sometimes. Jus’ because you don’t want tae admit ye think I’m a braw lad.” “Your head’s big enough as it is, don’t need me sayin’ things you already know, Johnny.”
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fangbangerghoul · 2 months
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(I'm doing this from mobile for the very first time)
Happy Sunday mutuals and fic readers!
I'm tagging the crew: @silurisanguine @bearlytolerant @eridanidreams @atonalginger @a-cosmic-elf @lisa-and-shadow @samcoesclub @staticpallour @therealgchu @toxiclizardwrites @aro-pancake @aislingdmdt
(if I didn't tag you please forgive me)
Today I offer you a snippet from a one shot I'm working on! Himbo!Heller 😈
Just a peek at Himbo!Heller one shot! Title still a work in progress:
“Whatcha need Boss?” Heller was sitting on his bench panting from the few reps Ghoul had walked in on. Her eyes were trying to subtly take in his lean muscular figure. Broad shoulders, big hands, and a lovely happy trail that led right to, a thought she tried not to have. She looked back up at the patient Heller, his eyes big and round. She smiled warmly at him, a rare occurrence for her, as a response.
“I was wondering if you wanted to follow me out. I picked up a side gig to snatch some photos for SSN” Ghoul said as she tried to keep her gaze cordial. She felt herself bite the bottom of her lip and mentally she scolded herself for being this way. He was a great companion, a lovely addition to The Lodge since they found Barrette. He originally was going to find more Argos work but Ghoul insisted to keep him around for heavy lifting and random errands they needed to be done.
“Photos?” Heller crossed his arms and leaned back as he spread his legs for comfort. It almost felt like he was purposely making it difficult for Ghoul not to appreciate the sweat that sprinkled his skin from his recent work out in this mini gym. Everyone normally took their turn here in the basement since Ghoul set it up, originally for her and Andreja to spar in, and Heller seemed to frequent it more since he had been planet bound.
“Yeah, just a few snapshots here and there for some pieces they are working on. The pay isn't so bad.” Ghoul took up leaning under the archway trying to seem more casual than she was actually feeling. It had been way too long since she has had some physical contact and right now of all times it was screaming at her to acknowledge it. Heller was looking like a lovely snack for her to gnaw on to hold her over too.
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writingwife-83 · 11 days
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Character A: I’m not in love with you, ok? And what’s more, I never will be. There’s nothing here between us. You need to stop waiting for something that will never happen, and just move on.
Character B: …
Character A: well, say something.
Character B: That’s was a nice speech. Very well said. Tell me, when you were planning it out… did you actually convince yourself that it was true?
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lizpaige · 25 days
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snippet sunday 🙃
another sneak peek of my declan outside pov of pynch 5+1 really just exploring declan’s mistrust of adam at the beginning and how they eventually CHILL OUT
“Matthew up yet?” Ronan rinsed his cup out, set it down in the sink.
“No.” Declan burnt his tongue on his coffee as he took a gulp to stop himself, but he couldn’t. Not really. He had to. “Adam is though.”
Ronan froze for just a second, back tight, before his posture loosened and he spun around, leaning back against the cabinets, looking challengingly back at Declan.
“When did he get in last night?”
“Not long after you went to bed, old man,” Ronan shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. “You invited him for Christmas, remember?”
“I did,” Declan replied, setting his coffee mug on the counter behind him. “I didn’t realize I was inviting him to sleep in your bed. Maybe I should have been more specific.”
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