#snippits

[battlemaiden13]

Orange: i would like to go one day without a panic attack

Berry: JUST ATTACK BACK

Orange: what?

Berry: IF YOU ARE BEING ATTACKED YOU HAVE TO ATTACK BACK!

Orange: that's not how that works

Berry: STOP BEING A COWARD AND ATTACK THE PANIC!!

#undertale incorrect quotes #inccorect quotes #hnd #definitely happened at some point #snippits

[taco-night-frenzy]

I haven't posted my WIPS here in a long long time but I decided, why not. I'm worth it I've been working on a fairly meaty spin-off series for my Detective Luigi series starring Vivian Paper Mario (TTYD)! She's the detective now, we're in her POV! She's a cute lil spooky trans girl goin to visit Bow's (Paper Mario 64) Mansion to solve a murder mystery!! There we'll find a buncha characters throughout the Mario series and find DA KILLER ok here's various wip snippets ilu thanks

and here's some of the characters/suspects. For now I've only got Dry Bowser, Johnathon Johnny Jones (Mario RPG) and Tatanga the alien (Mario Land) but I also plan on adding Booster, some other fellas, and a returning Boo from Luigi's Mansion

that's it for now. I could probably post the first chapter up here in general if I felt like it?? but I mean this in the least guilt tripping way, I do not think a single person will read it on this site. If anyone actually DID want to see it, I would be happy to post it but anyway, I'll be happy enough if anyone reads even my lil WIP snippits. I like posting these, they make me feel better

#My WIP stuff #fanfiction #snippits #Mario #WIP

[demondamage]

Word search! Tagged by @befuddled-calico-whump to find Dealt, Empty, Froze, and Grit within my writing :D

Dealt:

I apparently do not use this word and had to search hard- but found it in some really old Haziel backstory: Haziel had, of course dealt with corporeal beings before. Cryptids, undead, even a werewolf, he was used to that. What he was not used to was... this, whatever it was with it's twisted metallic body and curved fangs.

Empty:

Page 13 Panel 1 Pru swerves and kicks up a wave of dust in front of Arliah. Low angle shot. Page 13 Panel 2 Cockpit view slightly behind Arliah, her windshield is completely covered with dust. Floating panel. ARLIAH: Oh no you don’t- Page 13 Panel 3 Arliah pulls out from the dust cloud, next to Pru. Her windshield wipers are clearing a spot to see through on the speeder, and she shouts to get Pru’s attention. ARLIAH: Oi what was that?! If it wasn’t so empty out here I could have hit something!

Froze:

Shaking legs gave way underneath him, forcing him to the ground. The snow was no longer a dusting, now pelting him from all sides as he curled up on the ground. That familiar cold filled his limbs, filling his memories. Ice cold water in his lungs. Fighting his restraints as the ice froze around him. Death. Revival. Death. Revival. The time between getting longer and longer until he inevitably would not wake up, frozen in a constant stasis.

Grit(ted):

“FUCK!” Hank flipped the dial one last time. “GAVIN! Do you hear me?!” “Fuck you don’t have to yell so loud.” A hungover voice replied. “What?” “Jeffery’s tracking the androids, can you put it on the display in Ben’s car?” “Why Ben’s car, hell why are you asking me?” Pause. “Fowler won’t do it will he?” “No.” Hank growled through gritted teeth. “That’s why I am… nicely asking you.” Gavin paused a moment before answering. “Fuck it, if you’re digging your own grave I might as well lend you a shovel. You didn’t get it from me.”

I would like to nominate @burntcoffeewhump @mottinthemainpot and @up-in-flames-writing if yall want with the words Delirious, Wrath, Submit, and Hidden

#Snippits

[lemonluvgirl]

WIP Whenever Post a snippet of whatever you’re working on!

I saw @thelettersfromnoone opened up this invite to anyone who wanted to participate! So thank you! 

This is a scene from chapter 32 of Promise Me, my katniss solo victor story. 

Sleep was elusive after my conversation with Peeta, and my day starts later than I’d like. 

The sun has already been up for hours when I finally wake. I hate the feeling of swinging between extremes of waking up before dawn and then waking up well after it the next day because of exhaustion. But I have no idea what remedy there could be found for a victor who alternately couldn’t sleep and then once in a while slept too much because their body just gave out from exhaustion. 

The only other victor I know personally uses alcohol to achieve what little sleep he can, and his results are unreliable at best. 

I dress myself quickly and don’t bother putting on my sling again. I hadn’t been wearing it since I got home after the viewing last night and the pain wasn’t too bad when I moved carefully. 

Still, working my thick hair into a braid was out. I decided to swallow my pride and ask my mother for help. After Peeta’s comment about how I look different with my hair down, I felt apprehensive about not plaiting it back in my usual style. Even though I’m sure that the peacekeeper was just looking at my scars, I’d rather not attract too much attention. In case I have to go into town. 

My mother seems surprised when she opens the door to her bedroom after I knock, but when I explain why I need her help she quickly consents to braiding my hair. 

I sit down on the edge of her bed and close my eyes when I feel her nimble and delicate fingers expertly braiding. I have to stop myself from sighing when I realize I’ve missed this feeling. 

I don’t think she’s braided my hair on a regular day that’s not a formal Reaping since before dad died. After that I always did it myself. I usually braided Prim’s hair too, until she was old enough to do it on her own. 

But this feels…nice. 

It’s only when my mother starts to hum as she begins to place a few hair pins in that I start feeling conflicted. It’s the memories her voice stirs up that leave me internally spinning. Even though my father was always the one gifted at singing, my mother has a pleasant voice. Not as skillful or as easily flowing as my father’s had been but just like the rest of her, it's soft and pretty. 

Her hands go still, and come to rest on my shoulders and I look at our reflection in her bathroom mirror. She’s still almost a full head taller than me, and unless I have a latent growth spurt she most likely always will be. 

“Your father would be so proud of you,” she tells me with a watery smile as she stares back at my reflection. I give her a weak smile in return, wondering what her comment means. 

Does she mean my father would be proud to see how I’ve grown up, continuing his traditions of hunting and foraging to keep our family alive? Or for winning the Games and coming home? For volunteering for Prim? Surely he wouldn’t be proud of this Capitol paid for house and the strings that come with it. 

I stare at my mother’s dainty features, her perfectly symmetrical eyes and her long slim neck. Though she looks tired and perhaps a few years older than her actual age, she is still very beautiful. It’s easy to see what my father saw in her. I can’t imagine how dazzling she must have been in her youth. Looking at the two of us side by side, even though my coloring is different from hers it's plain to see we have some similar features if you look closely enough. Our hands for instance, our cheekbones, and our mannerisms. 

Some might even have called me decent looking if it weren’t for all the scars I now sport on the right side of my face and neck, that travel all the way down my body.  

I look away from the image of the young woman standing next to her mother in the mirror. 

If my father were alive, I am one hundred percent sure he’d hate the Capitol even more for the way I came home. Looking like something that had been chewed up and spat out, even after all these months. 

I stuff down my dissatisfaction. But there’s a small voice in the back of my head that says it’s not really about feeling pretty. I just want to feel normal. I miss my normal skin. I miss who I used to be, before my life was turned upside down.  Because even though I was hungry and struggling every day, sometimes every hour to make sure we all survived, I was still me. Now that girl and that life seem so far removed from my everyday reality. I am not sure I will ever get used to this new life as a victor. 

It makes me want to turn back the clock. Makes me think of Gale’s crazy plan to escape into the woods with our families and never look back. But that’s not going to happen. Not now that I’m one of the most recognized faces in Panem. Most days it makes me feel trapped. Not just inside this huge house that I’ll never, ever feel like I earned, as Effie so ineloquently puts it, but also trapped inside my own mind, inside my own skin.

And if I keep thinking about how powerless that leaves me I’ll go mad. Like having a panic attack, and full blown arena hallucinations brought on by the overwhelming stress-mad. 

So instead, I offer my mother another smile, and this time I try to make it a convincing one. It’s not her fault I look this way, or that I feel this way everyday. It’s not her fault Prim’s name was picked. It’s not her fault I came home from the Games a complete mess. 

I can blame her for a lot, and on my uncharitable days, which are most days, I still blame her for a great deal of the hardship we endured in the years after my father’s death. But this specific blame I cannot and will never attribute to her. 

It belongs only to Snow. I will never forget that.

“Thank you,” I tell her as I reach a hand up to touch the intricate braid she wove for me. I tug the tail over the right side of my neck, hiding the scars there. Just as I turn to leave I hear her say, “You're welcome. Now don’t forget to put on your sling.”

#PMLB #lemonluvwrites #snippits #sneak peeks #WIPs #I'm working on it I promise

[frogkimmy]

#kim talks #hermitcraft #snippit from joel's episode #gemintay #smallishbeans #docm77 #hermitcraft season 10

[mylifeinslowmotion]

The Library Turtle

So I transfer to my wheels and head back down the hall. Eventually I get to the doors without any locks. Mouse did point out which one was which earlier, but it was so fast, I wasn't paying attention, and the doors all look identical. I look down at Dragon. “Ummm... do you remember which one's the library, girl?”

She runs up to one of the doors and barks.

I didn't actually expect her to respond to that... Whatever. I'll check this door first.

Cautiously, I open the door. And, yup, it's the library.

It's too big to make sense. Not, like, infinitely large or anything, but it's long enough that the far ends clearly overlap with other doorways along the hall. Fucking magical architecture...

So I roll up and down the rows, unsure how to actually find a book I'm looking for... Like... there's no computers to search for the subject, and not even any of those card catalogs...

Dammit how did people find anything before the Dewey Decimal System?

...achoo...

There's a tiny sneeze behind me. I turn around to see a desk. On the desk, there's a basket labeled 'donations,' a desk lamp, and a hand written sign that says 'Just ask the turtle.'

Ask the turtle? Ummm... okay? Mouse said to leave a book, take a book. So I dig through the pockets of my wheelchair and find a book I don't need anymore. Ah. It's a collection of poems about gender dysphoria. Feel like that's something they probably don't have yet.

So I put the little book in the basket. And watch in horror as it's torn into shreds by an unseen force. Then the pieces are pulled in a line through the air, and down the side of the desk.

I maneuver to get a better look. There's a shelf in the side of the desk. On that shelf, there's a piece of paper, a little tray of ink, and a dog bowl filled with the newly-desecrated pages of the book I donated. A little green turtle is slowly nibbling at the pages.

The turtle's wearing thick glasses on one of those neck chain glasses-holder things old ladies wear, a grey wig, and a little turtle nametag that says 'Greenie.'

The turtle slowly bends it neck to face me.

We stare at each other for a while.

'Just ask the turtle,' the sign said. I should do that... “Ummm... I need a reference book on history...” Wait, I should be more specific. “Like, the magical history. Of the multiverse, I guess.”

The turtle slowly, slowly nods. And turns back to its meal.

#turtle #mlism #writing #original writing #queer writers #urban fantasy #snippits

[possessedpasm]

Markers are fun :)

#my art #anthro #furry #vintage style #70s #artists on tumblr #vintage furry #traditional art #doodles #I JUST REALIZED THE WOLF HAS THE SAME COLOR FUR AS SNIPPIT CRICKIT

[dragonpyre]

Here have a snippit for a fic I'll never write

"Jeez, what crawled up his ass and died?” Jason asked, watching as Bruce stalked out of the room. The silence that met him though made him turn to look up. “It’s April 27th,” Dick rasped. Like that somehow explained everything. “And? What, did I miss Passover or something?” Next to him, Tim flinched. Dick however… his eyes grew moist and his face fell. Before Jason could even think to ask what was wrong, the man had turned around and escaped the room. He looked about to cry. “Okay, what the hell?” Jason voiced. Because seriously, what the hell? “Jason,” Tim piped up carefully. “You died today.”

#headcanon that Jason didn't really register what day he died on #and cuz he also didn't live with the immediate aftermath he never developed a connotation for that date #meanwhile the bats who DID go through it have a horrible anniversary effect #text post #fic snippit #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #dc #dc comics #batfam #batfamily #batman

[thesmollestsnek]

Death echoes

So a while ago, i found this dp x dc post that had a really interesting lore headcanon for Danny’s ghostly wail. Idk if I’ll be able to find it again, I’ll link it here if I do, but essentially it posited that every ghost has something called a “death echo”, which is an ability unique to them based heavily on their deaths. These echoes are the most powerful move in a ghost’s moveset, but they’re also extremely volatile and draining, typically damaging the ghost in some way when used, with Danny’s being his Wail because he died screaming. The original post then went on to some really cool halfa!Jason ideas based on these death echoes, but for this lil snippet with an extremely long intro I’d like to focus on Danny a bit more.

Edit: Apparently I may have extrapolated a lot of the actual lore behind these death echos myself? The inspiration post was a lot longer in my memories. Or I might've mushed multiple posts into one mental box and then forgot lol. So a lot of the actual detail from this point on is seemingly mostly original material? I think? Idk man, sometimes my brain spits out information without giving me any clues as to where it got that information. Anyway, this post got kinda long and since I'm... decently sure this is where I shifted from summarizing @ailithnight's post to writing all my own thoughts I figured here would be a good place to throw the cut lol.

So! with all of the context-for-the-context out of the way, let’s move on to the actual context for what I’m writing cause I can’t be bothered with writing an intro XD

Essentially, this is an au where Danny is an established member of the Justice League, or maybe one of the teen hero teams? I’m a slut for eternal teenager Danny, but maybe he’s enough of a powerhouse to be on the main team despite him both looking and acting like the dumbass fourteen year old he died as. Either way, he’s on a League/League-sanctioned mission and things go bad. Like, everyone-almost-dies bad. And so as a final desperation attack, Danny uses his Wail, a power he’s never told anyone on the league he even has. And it works, and they make it out, but after the fact everyone has. Questions. And because in this au death echoes are deeply personal, Danny dodges those questions, but the league coughbatmancough isn’t satisfied with that. So they push for answers. Answers Danny’s not willing to give, because. In my mind death echoes aren’t just based on how a person died, but also their experience of that death. What their last thoughts were. When Danny died the only thing that he could process beyond just an all-encompassing painpainpainpainpain was the sound of someone screaming. His screaming. And so his death echo is the sound of a fourteen year old child screaming in deathly pain and terror weaponized, which definitely gave the league Even More Questions than they would’ve had already. Which finally brings us to the actual snippet, which is a conversation between John Constantine, who was brought in for his experience with the supernatural once it became clear Danny wasn’t going to talk, and Danny himself. 

~~~~~~~

“So, kid. Batsy tells me you’ve been hiding some of your abilities, wanna tell me what's up with that? Call it an occultist's intuition, but somethin’ tells me you’re not just being stubborn for the hell of it.”

“It’s... complicated. And not anyone’s business, either!”

“Kid...”

“Why does it even matter?! It’s not something I want to or am even able to do on a regular basis! I saved the mission, can’t they just accept that and move on???”

Sighing, Constantine reached up to start massaging his brow. “Kid, you and I both know that ain’t gonna be enough. Now I know that some things are better left alone, but the rest of these idiots? They can’t accept that, Batsy especially. That man’s never left bloody well enough alone in his life”

He looked up just in time to see the otherworldly teen shrink into himself, looking every bit the child he was. “I know but... why? Why do they need to keep asking questions? And why do they only ask the ones that hurt to answer?”

A sharp glance. “The fuck kinda questions are they asking? Batman was speaking in more grunt than word, so I didn’t really catch all the details of what this power you’re supposedly hiding even is.”

Phantom shrinks even more into himself at that, and responds in a voice so small it’s more sigh than speech. “I... I can scream. And it breaks things and pushes people back. But it, it sounds. Bad. And it brings up bad memories and I don’t like to do it or listentoitoreventhinkaboutitandtheywon’tletmeforgetand-”

“Breathe kid. I know you don’t need to but just take a deep breath with me. Don’t you go getting lost in your own head on me now., Constantine reassured the kid automatically, the sheer hopelessness prompting action long before the words themselves could be understood. Then the rest of him caught up, and he had to pause. Looked up at the kid, saw just how distressed he was. A picture was starting to form in the back of his head, and Constantine didn’t like what he saw one bit. A last-resort power that the normally open Phantom was strangely reticent about. A scream so horrible sounding the rest of the league would not to stop asking questions about it. Terrible memories to match said scream. And one truly miserable child who couldn’t bear to even think about any of it. 

“Phantom... is that your Echo? Screaming?”

A miserable nod is his only response, the tears that had been welling up in the kid’s eyes finally starting to fall. Cursing softly to himself, Constantine stood to leave, bracing himself for the Bat’s inevitable questioning. “Well then you just take all the time you need love, and leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure the rest of those idiots know not to ask you about this ever again.”  And with that Constantine turned and strode towards the door, leaving the quietly sobbing child to collect himself in privacy.

~~~~~

I had a whole-ass lore dump conversation between Constantine and Batman planned here, explaining how death echoes are deeply personal, and asking about one is a taboo on par with, potentially even worse than, asking a ghost about their death outright. Because they are formed from an amalgamation of how a ghost died, their last thoughts, and their final emotions, in some ways asking a ghost about their Echo is like asking them to describe their death in painstaking detail. But uhhh... inspiration bug left. So yea. Side note, I’d like to apologize if my depiction of Constantine’s accent was Bad, I’m but a lowly USAmerican whose only exposure to British accents is through tv ^-^’

#did some minor edits to fix typos and make things flow better when i went back in to add the hyperlink #that being said dont expect too much i wrote this in a bit of an inspiration frenzy lol #and barely edited it after the fact #the snek rambles #the snek writes #snippit #dp x dc #danny phantom #john constantine #idk wtf else to tag this #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #crossover

[kninedlog]

Snippet of something I'm working on: 1

This is something I've been working on for a while now. I'm gonna post it on Wattpad, and probably AO3? I don't know how much original stuff gets off the ground there but in the meantime... ✨shameless plug✨, I'm almost at the funny number of followers, so search up:" inknedlog" on Wattpad (I'll figure out how to promote myself properly soon!) I really like this and maybe actually get the first chapter out soon if I stop being lazy so I hope you enjoy it.

The symbol on the building was very polygonal but yet had this sense of flow. The design was of two dice blocks connected to one another, one positioned in a different way than the other. But what would catch anyone's eyes the second they witnessed it were the dots on the main components of a board game. The dots on the first die were composed in the letter of an "A" with seven dots. The dots on the second die were shipped in the letter of a "P" with only seven more. The neon blue light; so bright that it almost looks white, shone down at anyone wanting to make an entrance inside the AP headquarters.

Avier Protectors Headquarters.

Walking through the big glass doors the woman was greeted by the guards that stood present. Giving them a nod of respect and them returning it Hina had no need to explain who she was or why she was here. Ignoring what every other man and woman in formal business attire was doing up at the front desk, Hina slid right up to a door that had a red velvet barrier rope in front of it. Two gold columns holding it up. In bold neon cursive lettering, a sign hung from the door.

Heroes only!

Hina rolled her eyes, knowing exactly who put these up, and groaned. Hopping over the rope and pushing through the door she entered a long dark metallic hallway that stretched for about 5 minutes. Once she reached a certain part of the walk she started to hear some familiar mumbling voices. The second her face peeked around the corner she was instantly overtaken by a soft gentle hug while simultaneously being lifted up in the air.

"Hey, there kid!" A gruff voice rang out catching the attention of the others in the room. This is Honorable. A tall 6 ft amazonian woman with fair skin and long brown hair traveling down her back. She's built "like a rhino" as most of the men in the hero industry would say behind her back. Her eyes are a bright static blue and she has this cute little mole right beside her left eyebrow. She adorned this silver and bronze armor that had ruby accents lining the rims. A long staff rested tied to her back with both ends of it having a cleaver resembling blade. Her trusty Mightwind.

Honorable is a hero that played all too deeply into the 'medieval warrior of old' aesthetic despite that she spoke like a comic book hero. As most of the heros in the ACPS tend to do having grown up reading them. However, when this heroine would talk about her youthful days, it was as if she came from another planet. It took her a decade or two to get used to the customs here in Avier City and be able to act perfectly as a civilian when posing as her secret identity. Despite all of this, she is one of the top-ranking superheroes in the ACPS. Numbered at 4 for reasons that sort of fly by her head or she couldn't care less of. Hina could never really tell if she was purposefully acting ignorant or the ladder.

That being said, Honorable was a part of Ms. Legends' small group of heroes that saw her as an equal and not a low-class B ranking in this society. Sure, yeah, Hina's not all that like the rest of the B ranks but she's still there.

Everyone in the room reacts toward Hina finally making an appearance. A cacophony of eye rolls and groans escaped most of them, while some rare few waved or acknowledged her existence, kindly. At the bare minimum naturally. Still harboring some of that teenage shyness she grew up with, that alone, made her want to sink into herself. She didn't though, she kept the strong persona...,

"Heeeeey...." Or so she believed. With a strained hello back to the room Hina was finally dropped by Honorable. Sweat spewed out of every pore as she tried to raise her dark brown eyes up towards the big honcho at the forefront of the table. The leader, boss man, the one who created, assembled, and found most of the heroes in the ACPS stared at Ms. Legend with a slight smirk. He's a very young-looking man. He had vibrant and fluffy brown hair with freckles dotting his cheeks and nose and simple soft green eyes. He always looks so tired though with some heavy bags under his eyes yet no dark circles. He must be super loyal to one hell of a beauty care routine at forty-one. Daunting a dark blue suit with gold lining the rim of his cuffs and collar only he seems very professional and high-class. The glasses that stay clipped around the neckline gave him this addition of intelligence to his outlook.

"Ms. Legend. Happy to see you—" he paused himself and looked at the silver watch that rested on his left wrist for a quick second. As if to add more salt to the internal injury of embarrassment on her end. "—a minute late."

#Golden Ink Blots #G I B #Golden bits #Snippits #Small bits of writing #teaser #original work #original writing #original character #oc #original characters #fiction #superhero

[unseelie-courtesan]

It's been a pretty good day at the hotel, all things considered. Charlie wanted to do another round of trust falls, positive that they'd all come up with new and deeper secrets as they grew closer together. And hey, she wasn't wrong, Nifty actually got caught this time! But one thing Angel couldn't help but notice was that after the trust falls, Husk had been acting a little more snarly than usual. He couldn't figure out why at first, it wasn't like he had shared anything personal enough to be a big deal, and he had been caught after grumbling out that he preferred the taste of cheap booze over the expensive stuff, but he was nursing his bottle more intently than usual all through the rest of the day, and even turned in early. That was when Angel noticed it properly. As Husk walked up the stairs, thinking he was out of sight, he went to rub at one of his shoulders, wincing in the process.

So maybe he slinked off to join him. Maybe he just happened to slide into Husk's room before the kitty cat could close the door, needing to let that long tail in behind him doesn't exactly mean he can slam it quick. Husk's gruff "What-?" turned into a falter when he saw Angel, only to turn into a groan as he walked over to the bed. "Listen, I'm not in the mood for your games tonight kid."

"They're only games 'cause you ain't said yes yet." It's automatic, a flirt, a tease. Not even instinct, it's a full on reflex, out of his mouth before he can think about it. Husk's scowl made Angel wince, but he pushed on regardless, holding out his hands in front of him in the universal gesture for surrender. "Besides, that ain't why I'm here. Honest. Just wanted to know what's going on, you doing okay?"

There's a moment where shock crosses that gruff face, and he covers it up quickly enough Angel almost thinks he imagined it, but after a beat or two Husk just gave a shrug as he grumbled that it wasn't anything to worry about, just his back acting up, and why wasn't there a decent fucking chiropractor here in hell? Angel couldn't help his grin as he listened to the complaining, all too aware that just a month ago he definitely wouldn't have gotten an honest answer out of Husk, and as soon as he got the chance he stepped in a little closer.

"Well, luckily for you, you've got the best set a' hands in hell right here to help you out with your little problem." One pair rested on Husk's shoulders as he spoke, the other taking those pawlike hands as he winked. "They don't call my fingers magic for nothing baby."

This time when he's glared at, it's easy to laugh it away. It took a little effort, a little coaxing, but eventually he managed to convince Husk to at least hear him out and go along with his idea. To lay down on his stomach, resting his head on his crossed arms as he let his wings relax out to the sides. It didn't take long at all before Angel was joining him, climbing onto the mattress and climbing onto those thighs.

With Angel straddling Husk's hips from behind, the jokes are just too easy, low hanging fruit, like any time Pentious opens his mouth, and he can ignore it easily. Instead he clapped both sets of hands together and rubbed them together for a few minutes, warming them up with the friction. When he finally got to work properly, the reaction was immediate.

One pair began up at Husk's shoulders, working the heels of his hands deep into the muscle tissue while the other pair began to explore, carefully, at the join where Husk's wings met his back. At first, all Angel got in response was Husk tensing up beneath him. Every muscle in his shoulders knotted up worse, and those wings went so stiff that he began to wonder if this was a bad idea after all. But as Angel worked, keeping his commentary to himself for a change, he slowly started to see the difference as bit by bit, Husk managed to make himself relax into the stead, firm pressure.

One thing that quickly became clear was that while Husk's posture was terrible, there was a reason for it. Those wings of his were heavy. He's slouching forwards at least as much to keep his balance every day as he is because of how he feels beat down by the world. There's knots so stiff and tense under his fingers that Angel is pretty sure they've been there since the guy was alive, and the extra set of complex joints right in the middle of the bastard muscles in his back certainly weren't helping matters. It's no wonder he hasn't seen Husk flying around anywhere, he's not sure how well he can actually move those wings.

Bit by bit, Angel worked on massaging out the stress. The pain. The tension. The noises Husker let out weren't quite moans, and there were more than a few hisses of pain here and there as Angel's deft fingers found an exceptionally stubborn knot of muscle and worked on it until the fibers loosened and it settled into place. But eventually, once Angel had worked his way down Husk's back past his wings, kneading ever closer to the base of his tail, he heard a new noise. Something he's never heard from Husk before.

He heard purring.

It's a low, raspy sound. Deep in the old man's chest, more sensation rumbling through his body than truly audible. It sounded like something Husk hasn't done in a long time, like he's almost forgotten about the concept. It's such a surprise that Angel very nearly blurted out a laugh, but instead he bit his lip as he grinned silently, still silently working his way down that knobbly spine.

He never thought he'd be on top of another guy, straddling their thighs, and not be jumping straight into fucking them. But maybe there's something to be said for a little gentle intimacy too.

#Hazbin Hotel #Angel Dust #Husk #huskerdust #Ficlet #Yarrow's fics #Husker #I'mma start posting my snippits here too #I write Much more often than I draw

[lazer-t]

Art Fight attack on @snippit-crickit

#art #my art #digital #digital art #clip studio #clip studio paint #csp #art fight #artfight #art fight 2023 #dog #casey #snippit-crickit #slinky #confetti #lazert #lazer-t

[cozylittleartblog]

it coulda been you

#oc #original character #ocs #comic #cw blood #cyberpunk ocs #static sky #doodles #art #tessa #phineas dalton #its rude to stare tessa #this did not want to be made but i finished it against its will. i win #''i want to make a two page Minimum comic every month'' i arbitrarily decided in april. this was supposed to be done in april #she got stabbed like 60 years ago btw. before she could Do The Funny Healing Thing. i love just posting my ocs without context or lore #if i ever start the Big Comic it will all make more sense but for now. snippits. i make these for me i just so happen to also post them

[ghouljams]

OMG i saw your post regarding the snippets and at this point im taking anything. im a little curious about "The Big Motherfucker" (that felt so silly to type goodbye. hoping this is abt konig because i saw you refer to him once as the big motherfucker with the teeth lol)

That is in fact my fae!König doc! And it is because that's Liebling's first thought when she sees him lol

You wouldn't mind cooking for König so much if he didn't hover over you. He follows you like a baby duck, just a step behind you as you putter around the kitchen. You're not claustrophobic but you would love a little space. You can't even ask him for help after watching him eat a raw chicken leg bones and all.

"Do you mind?" You bump him out of the way trying to open your fridge.

"Not at all," he always sounds so damn pleased with himself, it's annoying. You swear at him under your breath and grab what you need. You nearly knock your head against him when you stand up, he's leaned so close to you while you were fishing around.

You never get used to that. The way he seems so desperate to be close to you, even if you're just grabbing carrots. Desperate enough to keep you on edge with how much he seems to loom over you. It's concerning how many times you've bumped into him because you turned too soon or stood up too fast. Maybe he's doing it on purpose. Maybe you should put a bell on him. At least then you'd be able to hear when he was close.

As it stands you just have to feel for the way your hair stands on end when he's just on the edge of pressing against you. Always waiting to feel him touch you, or speak, just so that creeping sensation of his phantom touch will leave you alone.

König runs his tongue along his teeth, grazing their sharp edges to try and take the edge off his urge to bite. Not yet, he thinks staring down at you --you handle a knife so well, he wonders what else your hands can do-- but soon.

#fae!König #snip snip snippit #i am shadow banned but that doesnt mean i can't post #just means i will get absolutely zero engagement and wont be in the tags #but whatever ur all already trapped in here with me #i've already locked the doors so theres no escape #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig x you #könig x reader

[hellonoblesky]

Thrawn fans can we all please unite and hold hands and hope hope hope we get Che'ri. Please can we all hope for Che'ri

#turtledove yells into the abyss #CHISS SHIP!!!!! CHISS CHIP IN THE NEW SNIPPIT WE KNOW WHAT HIS SHIP LOOKS LIKE NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #AHKFJGAHKJGH@UIJGH!HJ!!!!!!!!!!!! #thrawn #thrawn alliances

[soukokumychildren]

Love how it's becoming the norm of Chuuya either having corruption scars, or heterochromia (hope that's the right one, I'm not gonna bother looking it up).

#chuuya nakahara #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #nakahara chuuya #bsd chuuya #random snippit #out of nowhere sentence #lol