#I opened that tag to put it in this post and forgot i drew SO MUCH stuff about it

[ladybeug]

the other day at work i saw someone with platform uggs. just thought you might enjoy that

Thats it. Thats the comic. Im using that horror movie technique where its scarier if you don't see the monster.

anyways this is such a throwback. you always send me the shit that somehow makes me laugh, I am remembering a specific one that I swear was ten years ago. anyways

[sh4wty18]

heyyyyy i was wondering if you could make a johnnie angst fic where he forgets your bday🫶🏼

you forgot my birthday.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x reader

summary: same as request with some bestie!jake moments

cw: angst, hurt no comfort, language

word count: 1.2k + edited

---

12:00 am. A text from Jake immediately lights up your screen:

jakey: HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!!!! i hope you have the best day ever! im so glad ur dating my bsf so WE could become bsfs!! ilysm go slay queen 💅

You smile and type out a response:

y/n: THANK U SO MUCH JAKE I <3 U!!!!! 

You put your phone on do not disturb for the night and roll over in bed, Johnnie hadn’t texted you for your birthday yet, but that was to be expected. He was a slow texter as it is, but he was usually busy streaming or playing music at this time anyway. There was still plenty of time for him to reach out.

10:36 am. You wake up and immediately check your texts. You’d received birthday messages from Carrington, Tara, your friends from home, been tagged in hundreds of posts on tiktok and instagram, even Matt texted you (and you’d only met him once!). But nothing from Johnnie. That’s okay. He was probably still asleep. Nothing to be worried about. 

1:48 pm. Nothing. What the fuck? All you wanted for your birthday was to spend a quiet day with your boyfriend. Unlike the other friends you’d made since moving to LA, you were less likely to choose partying over spending quality time with your loved ones. Not that there was anything wrong with partying, you just happened to be more reserved. Johnnie was more quiet and anxious as well, it was something that drew you to him in the first place. You always had someone to ditch social events with. You’d figured by this point he would have texted or called and wished you a happy birthday, then you’d hang out, watch a couple movies, order food in, birthday sex– the whole nine. But no. He'd said not a single word. You tried not to bring up your birthday often in the weeks leading up to it, so as to not annoy anyone, but you know for sure you’d mentioned your birth date at least twice since you’d been dating. He had zero excuse not to know. All the other important people in your life seemed to remember, so where was he?

5:24 pm. Nothing. 

7:58 pm. Nothing. You decide to call Jake and see if he has any insight into the situation. He picks up on the second ring.

“What’s up, birthday girl?” He asks sweetly. 

“Johnnie still hasn’t told me happy birthday. I think he forgot,” you say. Speaking the words out loud suddenly makes the situation feel way more real, and you feel a familiar lump forming in your throat.

“There’s no way. He couldn’t have. He’s been out all day, I haven’t really seen him. I think he’s doing a shoot for his next music video or something. So maybe he’ll text you when he’s done? I’m sorry, y/n, I wish I could help. If you need to be with someone, you know I’m always here.”

“Thanks, Jake, you’re a great friend. Love you.”

“Love you too, I’ll text you when he gets back.”

“Thanks. And Jake… don’t remind him when he gets back. It won’t be real unless he does it himself.” 

10:15 pm. Nothing. 

12:00 am. You type out a text to Johnnie:

y/n: you forgot my birthday

johnnie <3: It’s literally next month isn’t it?

johnnie <3: Y/n…plz tell me its next month 

y/n: i think i know my own birthday

johnnie <3: No no no no no

johnnie <3: Y/n im so sorry

johnnie <3: I know how u wanted to spend all day together on your birthday. I'm such an idiot. I promise it was an honest mistake. I really thought it was next month.

You don’t answer. At 12:43 am, you hear a knock at your door. He was the last person you wanted to see right now, but you knew he wouldn’t leave until you answered, so you reluctantly opened the door.

“Johnnie, I don’t want to see you–”

“Y/n, please. Please listen to me. I’m so so so sorry. I was busy with music video stuff and I spaced. I wasn’t on my phone all day so I swear, I didn’t see anyone’s birthday posts or anything until after you texted. You can ask Jake and Carrington, they were texting me all day and I never answered.”

“I believe you, Johnnie. And I get being busy, but… it’s just like… how do you forget your own girlfriend’s birthday? Do you know how embarrassing it is? To have all my friends, fans, and even acquaintances wish me a happy birthday, but the one person I really want to hear from doesn’t? It sucks. I felt like shit all day.” 

“I know. And being busy isn’t an excuse. There isn’t an excuse. I don’t know what else to say other than I’m so fucking sorry. If I could take it all back I would. I love you so much, y/n. I- I’m so fucking sorry,” Johnnie pleads, and his eyes start to well. 

You start to tear up as well, but you don’t want him to see you cry, don’t want to make him feel worse. You’re not angry with him, and you obviously still love him, you’re just sad. You can tell he means what he’s saying, it was definitely an honest mistake, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re hurt, and embarrassed, and had the worst birthday ever. 

“I know you are. And I love you, too. I just… I think I need some space for tonight. I’m sorry, Johnnie,” you say.

“Don’t apologize, baby. I’ll call you in the morning. I love you.” He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and turns to leave. 

You close the door behind him and sink to the floor. You pull your knees to your chest and bury your face in them, finally letting out your soft sobs after holding back tears all day. You pull your phone out of your back pocket and tap the call button under Jake’s name. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks immediately, knowing you’d never call this late unless there was an emergency.

“I need you,” you say, choking on your words between tears. 

“I’m coming over.” He hangs up.

—

Fifteen minutes later, he’s at your apartment. You’re sitting on the couch together, with you leaning your head against his shoulder and crying softly as he rubs your back.

“I saw Johnnie on my way out… he didn’t look so hot. I’m assuming this is about him?”

You sniffle, “He forgot. I can’t believe he really forgot. Sorry I'm crying, this is so stupid, I’m just… really fucking sad about it. I know he didn’t mean to, and he’s super sorry and stuff but–”

“Y/n, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. Your emotions are completely valid. He’s your boyfriend, of course you’re gonna be upset that he forgot your birthday! It doesn’t mean he’s a bad person, we still love Johnnie! But… he made a mistake and unfortunately it made you sad.” 

“I knew you’d understand,” you give him a weak smile, and he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into a tight side hug, resting his head on top of yours. 

“Of course. I’m here for you, y/n. Always.”

---

first hurt/no comfort fic in the books! (i'm sad)

[atalossofwords]

YOU TASTE THE SILVER - IvanTill WIP (Part 5&6)

And we have two more POVs on this one! I was posting just one at a time to give myself a buffer to posting on AO3, but I wrote more than I expected haha.

That's right! The first chapter is now up on ao3 on this link. Please come by and leave some kudos!!

part one - part two - part three - part four

Things move on smoothly for Till. He's used to his new apartment, his set-up is pinterest-worthy if Hyuna has anything to say about it, and he's even opened his PO box again, warning his fans to only send letters and small packages, since he really enjoyed reading what everyone had to say.

(He's actually working on a collage of sorts, decking out one wall of his office with the letters. He always feels warm, looking at them. Kirby sent a really cute letter full of mongmong stickers, Bonbon's kid drew a really cute crayon rendition of his dad peering at his phone while vacuuming, and Jaewoon sent about 5 different drawings he treasures greatly.)

Leaving his PO box open, however, also means Navi has been sending a never-ending stream of little gifts. Almost none of them come with letters, or if they do, they're brief and printed from a computer. Apparently, since Till only comments on the contents of the gifts if he happens to wear them on-stream and said viewer comments on it, Navi decided that's the perfect excuse to spoil Till without making him lose his composure on-stream.

So far, Till has gotten; a new sweater, a varied collection of rings, a bundle of cellphone charms after he commented the string he looped through the case to hold his phone in case it falls frayed away.

Apparently, Navi also managed to walk around the "small package" limitation by sending gift cards for several stores. Till had no idea furniture stores even did gift cards.

He felt… sort of warm. If it was just an old man looking to spend his money or lure Till in, they'd probably insist on more diamonds or expensive stuff, right? Or insist Till comment on the gifts live, if it was some sort of sasaeng looking for attention.

Navi never did any of those things. After the diamonds, the gifts were never something Till would consider super expansive, unless you counted the frequency of them. The rings were silver, but none had jewels, the phone charms looked like something Till himself could get online, except the tags on them showed they were bought in Taiwan. The gift cards were weirder, but nothing more expensive than what Navi would donate over the course of one or two streams.

That is, until this latest gift.

Till stares at it, feeling the bottom of his stomach give out. He's in his kitchen, back from a supermarket run after he picked his latest batch of letters. He was going to read them while he ate lunch, but he feels 0 interest in his food right now.

He's holding two tickets for Mizi's concert, in the VIP section. One of those that comes attached to a meet-and-greet.

Clipped to them in an inconspicuous pink paperclip is a note.

I don't know if you got tickets for yourself, but I won these and will be out of the country at the time. I hope you can enjoy them with someone else. If the staff needs any information about the VIP status, here's my number. (xx) xxx-xxx. - Navi.

It is a handwritten note, written with a black pen in a hurry, so much so Till has to squint to make some of it out. The handwriting looks like someone who's not used to writing, with lots of places where the pen left marks as it hovered over the page without gliding, except the signature, which looks practed and neat.

Till has no idea what to do about this.

He calls Hyuna.

"Hi, I'm live." She answers, and he swears. He forgot to account for her streaming hours. He must sound agitated enough it worries her, because there's the sound of a few buttons being pressed, probably muting herself. "Till?"

He takes a deep breath.

"Sorry, I can call later." He says, putting the tickets down carefully and taking his lunch to the sink. He won't finish it.

"It's fine, what happened?"

"Navi sent in another gift." He can practically feel her rolling her eyes equal parts exasperated and relieved.

"Till, if you called me to fawn over your potential sugar daddy–"

"It's two tickets to Mizi's concert, VIP, with a meet-and-greet. And a number to contact if there's problems getting in." He says quickly, interrupting her. He runs one hand through his hair, starting to get stressed. Is this a trick? Is Navi going to be waiting on the seat besides these, corner Till in the show? No, they wouldn't send two tickets if this was the case.

"Holy shit." Hyuna says, entirely surprised. He makes a little agreeable noise. "Holy shit, Till, these aren't just expensive, they're like, hard to get. Did you message them yet?"

Till shakes his head, then realizes she can't see it. "No, I didn't call or message. Should I?" On the other side of the line Hyuna makes a tsk sound.

"No, don't call or message it. Let me finish the stream normally, and then we can look into it, okay? You said two tickets right? If you decide to go, take me or Isaac, and it should be alright." Till hums his agreement, and lets Hyuna go to finish her stream. It's a good plan, Hyuna can and has punched guys who harassed her, and Isaac is built like a brick house, no way a weirdo is getting close to him with Isaac there.

Dewey is probably a bad idea, he's more likely to punch first and ask questions never.

Till sighs, puts the tickets back on the envelope and goes take a bath, hoping it'll help him relax and maybe bring back his appetite.

Ivan is taking a water break from rehearsals when his phone chimes with a notification from an unknown number.

He immediately feels dread, did his number get leaked? He sits up, putting his water bottle down and opening the message.

Unknown [ 3:24PM ] Is this Navi?

Ivan blinks at the message, not understanding it for a long second. And then he is hit with the memories of staying up at night some days ago, reviewing the footage from the day's shoot and going over the script time and time again, because his performance was horrible and the whole scene had to be scrapped and he was so frustrated, and…

And Sua sent a message asking if he'd meet her for Mandated Lunch Time before Mizi's concert next month, and he remembered he couldn't make it since he'd be shooting that day, and he thought.

Till likes Mizi. Ivan has Mizi tickets.

He doesn't even remember what he wrote on the damn letter, oh god, did he sign with his name? Plaster his address on it??

This is fine. Ivan is fine. He asks one of the fight coordinators for five minutes and heads into the bathroom.

You [ 3:25PM ] Yes, who is it?

Better to see what they know before saying anything incriminating.

Unknow [ 3:25PM ] This is Till. Did you really send me Mizi tickets? How did you even get them?

Okay. Deep breaths, Ivan. You can do it. Say this is Navi, you really sent the tickets and that it's no big deal, and you got them… How did you get them? You can't say your real name, and saying you bought them for Till would sound weird, these really are expansive.

Ivan takes a deep breath, and sits on the toilet's lid, crossing his legs to rest his elbows on his knees.

You [ 3:26PM ] Hyung, you always said you liked them, and I happened across these as a job perk. I'll be out of the country, so it was no problem to give them to you.

Unknow [ 3:26PM ] A job perk? Even if that's true, they can't have been cheap. I've already told you, there's no need to keep wasting money on me.

You [ 3:27PM ] It's not wasting money, hyung. I really enjoy your lives, and it makes me happy knowing you're enjoying yourself. I work in the industry, so I know some people who are much less talented than you with a lot more opportunities. I just wanted to give you something to enjoy.

Ivan's fingers are flying over the keyboard before he's even conscious of it, indignation flaring up in his chest. Till works so much, he produces and sings and plays the guitar and drums, he writes his own lyrics, he's so incredibly talented and it makes Ivan furious to know he doesn't see it.

Ivan's been in the spotlight since he was a child acting on toy commercials, met even more people when he and Sua acted together as the twins of a famous singer on a period drama, and there's so many of these so-called "idols" that have a pretty voice and body and nothing else to give. So many actors bank on their looks and have 0 dedication to the craft. It makes Ivan livid.

You [ 3:27PM ] Hyung is so hard-working, and I really wish you'd see it. Your music deserves to be sold on albums and people should praise you so much more for how good your lyrics are. The people I work with don't put half the effort Hyung does, and they get to go to shows and afterparties all the time. I just want to let Hyung see his Idol and have a good time, since I won't use the tickets anyway. Is that bad?

Ivan is… breathing hard. He's somehow lost his cool. He watches as the three dots appear and disappear, and decides to get up. He exits the stall, splashes some water on his face, combs his hair back. Does a breathing exercise his mother taught him and Sua when his father and Sua's mom were fighting, and looks back at his phone.

Unknow [ 3:28PM ] Thank you. I'll enjoy the show.

Unknow [ 3:29PM ] Can I still message this number after it?

Ivan lets out an entirely undignified squeal, and almost does a little victory dance, all previous frustration wipes clean. Till wants to keep talking! Till isn't rejecting him!! Ivan has Till's phone number!!

You [ 3:29PM ] Yes! Hyung can message me whenever <3 I'll do my best to answer!

Unknow [ 3:30PM ] Great. I'll let you know how the show goes, then.

Ivan may be getting ready for a heart attack at the tender age of 22, but he's never regretted anything, in his life, ever.

part seven

[pettyrevenge-base]

Revenge potato after tracking tag found.

My kid's mother (my ex) is a control freak. We have shared care, week about arrangements. She demands to know her daughter's every movement. Texts constantly, checking up on her and a load of other overbearing nonsense. (One of the reasons I left her also)

My daughter is now well into her teens and fed up with the control. The ex tries to track her via various apps on my daughter's phone however my daughter is savvy enough to disable this when she wants.

So we went camping for a week in the summer with my new partner and her kids. I told the ex exactly where we were camping and our planned travel route.

My daughter had had enough of the control and texts and turned off her phone as we left for the trip. We had to detour a bit due to roadworks and soon I got a text from the ex demanding to know where we were going and why our daughter wasn't responding. I was surprised she knew we were off track a bit.

Once we get to camp we go looking and sure enough find an air tag hidden in my daughters bag. Both myself and my daughter were pretty unimpressed and almost dumped it in the garbage.

Instead, we decided to have some fun. We were camping in a small town with a post office. We bought a large potato on which my daughter drew an angry face. Put the air tag and the potato inside a sealed post bag and posted it to her mother.

Over the next 6 days of camping, I received a series of increasingly agitated calls and texts from the ex about our whereabouts. She was freaking out as the tag travelled from our remote town, through another state and slowly back to her address.

A week goes by fast and we head home. Drop the kids off to their mothers and almost forgot about the package as it hadn't arrived apparently.

A few days later I get an excited call from my daughter, who was grounded. The post bag had turned up at least a couple of weeks after sending. The potato had gone bad and turned to a foul-smelling mush in the bag that upon opening had spilled on the living room carpet leaving a rotten mess with an air tag in the middle! Even better, it was the ex who opened it.

I wish I had been there to see her face. Apparently, it was worth the grounding.

The ex still tries to control and track my kids, but doesn't have much luck.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

[nfcv-saltmine]

Censoring because I'm not about to participate into this modern witch hunt.

In all due respect to the person who sent me this... Get over it, please. Being gross isn't a crime. But you know what is? Harrassment and calls for hatred.

I'm sorry but I have seen enough of those modern witch hunts to not want to participate. This is ridiculous, seriously. A call out post... To protect who, fictional characters? What about doing call out posts for people who you know and have proof that they are an actual predator, not someone you ASSUME are bad because they enjoy something bad happening in fiction to a 100% fictional character?

This is so basic but people can enjoy topics and scenarios in fiction that they would not enjoy and would actually condemn in real life (and they don't all show their enjoyment the same way. The reblogger you're talking about seem to be sarcastic in their comments. You're weirded out and have a doubt about their intentions? Their askbox and DMs are open as I type this, maybe start there before trying to raise a bunch of strangers against them). You don't like it? Okay! I don't like heavy gore in porn! So I just ignore it or block people or tags, and go on with my life, because at the end of the day... Who's being harmed?? Who cares?? I'm not gonna assume someone is a serial killer or support serial killers for it. You just don't understand what they find appealing in this...? Just. You know. Ask??

The people you are calling out not only gave trigger warnings, but from what I see of them, they tag their stuff, too (and a little comment that they forgot or should add a tag isn't gonna cause as much harm as literally exposing them to the world for a little mistake, or for being "gross"). Exactly so people can easily ignore or not see them at all. You read anyway? The blame's on you. You just don't like that it exist? Again, get over it, it's not a crime. And calling it CP or CSA is so fucking ridiculous and make it seem like you take the very terms like a joke, because no real child is being harmed. And yet you put real horrors real children go through... With fake scenarios filled with fake characters?? (When the protagonist of the scenario is very obviously a bad guy you shouldn't root for, too??) What's next. Are we not gonna be allowed to have fictions about murders because murdering is bad and some people are triggered by it because a loved one has been killed? No more rape scenes (the kind that actually serve the story/a character's lore) because rape bad and triggering?? What about the very character of Dracula who canonically is a genocidal monster. Do you think people who like him, or the ones who wrote him, or drew him, are also monsters who need to be called out for liking such a horrible bastard?? I don't think so. Yet, no matter how many heavy and bad topics people explore out there, everywhere, even the clumsier ones... No one reacts the way people like you react to fictional underage SA or incest, even when it's obvious the people enjoying it KNOW it's bad and do not condone it irl and don't even write/draw it to be sexy. Typical double standards.

I'd argue that we need to be able to have any kind of heavy topic in fiction, even the clumsy ones. Because they're stuff that happen irl and it would be stupid to just ignore their existence. So let people explore and enjoy them in a safe way if they want. Seriously, an obscure fic that grossed you out or even triggered you is not worth the person you find disgusting being harassed or attacked or hated by all.

Even if it isn't your intention to cause them to be harassed or harmed... You and your friends literally gave names. You literally reduced two whole blogs to one gross post or ship and made it so people would think "oh they're bad, better stay away from them". You want them to be isolated and rejected by all (because that's what is gonna happen if everyone blocks them and "spread the word" you know). You, yourself, came to my askbox, to warn me about someone being gross like you're expecting me to expose them, too... And I really hope you or your friends didn't do this to many other people because that is just a fucked up thing to do, especially if you had "good" intentions. And saying you don't want them to get harassed isn't gonna make up for the fact you're screaming at the top of your lungs, for as many people as possible to hear, "STAY AWAY FROM THOSE PEDOPHILES!!" when the worst thing they did is enjoy something fucked up in a piece of fiction.

SO MUCH TROUBLE could be avoided if you or your friends simply WENT to the people concerned directly to explain your PoV and maybe ask for theirs, instead of doing... This. Literally, what prevented you from opening discussion?? If you think they fucked up, do you REALLY think it's gonna help them change and improve to shit on them behind their back and encourage people to block them?? Why directly going on the "call out post" route, wich can end DRAMATICALLY for NOTHING, when from all you know... A simple, cordial ask could have probably solved the whole thing?? I'm sorry but this pisses me off. Just for this, nor you nor your friends can claim to have the moral high ground. We aren't talking about a big celebrity wich you can't reach wich also influence a lot of people. We are talking about two random people who have no influence (despite what you seem to think), who seem to be open to discussions. Give the people a chance to explain themselves before you jump to conclusions, seriously. You don't want to? Okay, no one forces you. But don't then pull this shit and then pretend you're morally better and they're the worst when the whole thing... Can be reduced to a misunderstanding you didn't try to clear up. Or a mistake you didn't attempt to bring to the OPs' attention. Or simply a taste in fictions you do not share.

[rabarbarzcukrem]

Hi, this is my first time posting fanfiction. Please keep in mind that I am not a native English speaker and be kind enough to excuse any mistakes.

This short fic was inspired by these two lovely pieces of art by @helloanthy and @biruesque:

Ship: Utena Tenjou x Anthy Himemiya

Contains: one shot, post-canon, reunion, Anthy is a badass now, Utena doesn't remember Ohtori but experiences lesbian feelings nonetheless

~~~~~~~~

Utena was waiting outside the store that she worked at, with her backpack slung over one shoulder. The setting sun gilded the usually dull and grey concrete of the parking lot.

"It's getting colder, I guess autumn is coming soon..." she thought absent-mindedly, casually stretching her arms one after the other. When she had mentioned that she is looking for an apartment during a conversation with her colleague Kokomi the day before, she hadn't expected that an opportunity would present itself so soon. Her friend had instantly lit up and started rambling on about some girl that she knew, who was apparently looking for a roomate right now.

Utena glanced at her phone screen. Half past six.

The girl was supposed to pick her up after work - so about 15 minutes ago - so she could see the apartment. And although Utena had assured that it's unnecessary and she is perfectly capable of getting there on her own, Kokomi replied that the roomate-to-be presented the idea herself and would gladly give Utena a ride.

"She'd better hurry up, it's gonna start getting dark soon..." she sighed to herself.

Suddenly, a pink motorcycle pulled into the parking lot and stopped just a few meters in front of her. The person driving the vehicle took of their helmet.

"Tenjou Utena, right?" they said, giving her a warm smile. For a moment, Utena forgot how to speak. The girl standing before her had skin of deep brown, glistening emerald eyes and tumbling purple curls, tied into a high ponytail revealing her undercut. There was a Hindu red dot between her eyebrows, which Utena recalled was called 'bindi'. She wore a truly punk outfit - ripped jeans and a leather sleeveless vest with lots of pins, in her ears and on on her face glistened various silver piercings.

"This is the girl?!" thought Utena, shocked and quite intimidated."Just what kind of people does Kokomi hang out with?!"

"U-uh, yeah, that would be me... Kokomi said you're looking for a roomate...?" she managed to choke out awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck with a nervous smile.

The girl nodded, unbuckling a second helmet from the seat and handing it to her. Utena suddenly realized in what way they were supposed to get to the apartment.

"I-I've never ridden a motorcycle before...To be honest, I was expecting a car " Utena explained, a bit embarrassed.

"Don't worry." replied the girl kindly. "Just sit behind me and you'll be alright."

This openly and assuredly tender, affectionate way she was looking at her made Utena feel bashful.

She let out a small breath and put on the helmet. She expected a longer conversation, some questions at least... Maybe the girl wanted them to discuss the details on the spot? Then again, the quiet between them didn't feel uncomfortable, somehow.

As she was getting on the vehicle, Utena realized how close to the girl she would actually be sitting and suddenly felt her cheeks burn. She also smelled a nice, distinctive, floral smell which enveloped the mysterious stranger. Despite how shy and flustered she felt for some reason, there was something that drew Utena to her. And not just because the girl was plain gorgeous, but also due to a strange feeling of comfort and familiarity that the girl induced in her, as if they had known each other for a very long time.

"I could use something to hold onto" Utena thought, considering grabbing the seat, if only to do something with her hands.

As if she was reading her thoughts, the girl spoke calmly:

"It's okay, just put your arm around my waist."

"Ah."

Utena complied carefully, trying very hard not to be too weird about it and ignore the pounding of her agitated heart. And suddenly there was that strange deja vu sensation again - as if she had embraced her this was a hundred of times before. Utena felt like she was forgetting something. Had they maybe...met in the past..?

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I caught your name" said Utena, suddenly realizing that.

The girl was silent for a short moment.

"Anthy" she said, quietly. Was her voice a bit sad, or did Utena just imagine it? "My name is Himemiya Anthy".

And she started the engine.

~~~~~

By the time they got there, it had gotten dark. The apartment was situated on the third floor of a nice-looking building, in a bit isolated area of the city. As Utena followed Anthy up the stairs, listening to the clink of keys in the girl's hand, she couldn't do anything else but wonder how she might have known her. Something in the back of her mind told her Anthy was important to her - so why was her mind blank whenever she tried to remember?

"Make yourself at home," Anthy said, letting her inside. Removing her shoes, Utena looked around the apartment. Apart from the short hallway, there were two pairs of doors, probably leading to a bedroom and a bathroom, and a living room with a small, open kitchen. The main room was decorated very nicely, in a way Utena had to admit she couldn't arrange herself. It was full of pots of plants, cute pieces of furniture and all sorts of knick-knacks that made it feel more cramped than it actually was, but in a cozy way.

"Say hello to Chuchu" said Anthy, picking up something small from the table in the center of the room. She uncurled her fingers, revealing to Utena a tiny, 4-inches tall, purple monkey, with big ears and a curled tail, which appeared to be in the middle of attempting to smallow a chocolate bar whole.

"Um...Hi, Chuchu" said Utena, extending her index finger towards the creature so he could shake it. It was so adorably small and goofy Utena couldn't help but smile.

"He's very cute. Is he your friend?"

Anthy looked at Chuchu with fondness.

"The best of all that I have."

She kissed him on his little forehead and placed him gently on the countertop of one of the cupboards, then walked over to the counter in the kitchen.

"Tea?"

"Um, sure. Thanks."

Utena sat at the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a terrarium standing by the wall. It took her a moment to realize that several other living creatures were also moving freely around the apartment.

"Who is this?" Utena asked, a bit surprised, pointing to one of them.

"Oh, my hen, Miss Milly."

"And these?" Utena pointed to another ones.

"Just my kitties, Theodore and Wolfgang."

"And this?"

"My dearest mongoose, Sweet Biscuit Jr."

"I suppose all the ants probably have names as well, huh?"

Anthy smiled at her softly.

"Would my animals be a problem for you, Utena?"

"No, I just... didn't think you were that kind of girl" she said, before thinking.

Anthy turned towards her, intrigued.

"That kind?" she asked, more curious than offended.

"It's just, because of the way you dress, I thought you were one of these, hardcore ones, not the type to care about animals and stuff" said Utena nervously, wanting to explain her poor choice of words, but realized that she just made it worse. "B-But for some reason, it feels right, you know?" She added quickly. "It makes sense. If anything, I think it makes you...even cooler..."

"Ah, a pretty, totally badass girl brings you to her house and the first thing you do is embarrass yourself!" she scolded herself in her thoughts, but the only thing Anthy did was chuckle softly and say "Thanks", before geting back to preparing tea for them.

For a moment a calm, comfortable silence fell upon the room. For some reason, sitting at that table filled Utena with a warm, nostalgic feeling inside, almost as if... she had finally come home. What a silly thought. Utena was an orphan, she didn't have any family that she knew of, there was no home waiting for her. And yet...

"Himemiya" Utena said suddenly, which she noticed made Anthy flinch. "This may sound weird, but have we....met before?"

The girl turned around to face her, with the warm smile back on. Utena expected an answer, but Anthy kept quiet.

"I'm thinking we may have gone to school together or something" explained Utena hurriedly, thinking Anthy didn't understand. "Like, maybe we were in different classes...I suffered an injury in middle school, I admit I don't remember much of that time."

Anthy stared at her in silence for a moment, her expression unchanging. Utena guessed she may be lost in thought, trying to recall something. But when she finally spoke, it was just a question, in a perfectly calm, although a bit deeper voice:

"Are you a forgetful person, Utena?"

This startled her.

"Uh...."

She didn't have a clue what to say to that. But she had a gnawing feeling that it was important, somehow.

".....Anyway" said Anthy, suddenly cheerful again, as if the previous interaction hadn't taken place. "Would you like some cookies as well? I just baked them yesterday."

"Sure..."

Utena followed Anthy with her eyes for a bit, puzzled, as the girl pulled out the cookies from one of the cabinets.

"She's avoiding the subject" she thought. "I guess I shouldn't be pushy, if she doesn't want to talk about it..."

She sighed and looked through the window. The moon was shining unusually brightly, the night sky was unclouded and full of stars. She noticed that the apartment had a balcony, and on it, through the glass, she saw....

"Are those roses?" asked Utena, standing up suddenly, something pulling her towards the balcony doors. She opened them and stepped outside, feeling the refreshing, chilly air against her skin. The balcony was, indeed, packed with pots and pots of beautiful, pink roses, which barely left any room for a person to stand comfortably.

"So this is where the floral smell comes from..."

As she was standing there, in awe of the sight before her, she heard Anthy step outside too and close the door.

"Are all of them yours?" asked Utena, smiling wide, genuinely impressed. "They probably need a lot of care... You must really love roses, huh?"

Anthy returned the smile, but there was something pained in her voice when she responded with a short, quiet:

"...Yes."

Looking into the girl's eyes, under the starry sky, she couldn't shake off the feeling that there's something she should say, something she should do, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't figure out what. Her throat tightened, some weird, intense feeling was building up inside of her, under her skin, she couldn't stand it-

"We should probably get back inside, it's getting cold" she turned around quickly, too quickly, and stumbled on one of the pots.

In a split second, Anthy lunged forward and caught her by the waist, her other hand gripping Utena's, bringing them close.

In that moment, a wave of memories washed over her, and she remembered everything. The academy. The crushing weight of the swords. The struggles they had faced together, the fights she had fought for her, the illusions, the cruel, cruel lies... All the suffering and the horror...And through all of that, Anthy's hand in hers, time and time again. The love.

"Someday, together..."

Overwhelmed, she felt her eyes fill up with tears. Upon seeing this, Anthy's face softened in understanding. She let out half a chuckle, half a sob.

"Utena" she said, her voice trembling with emotion, but so, so loving. "At last...we meet."

"You escaped. You got out of there."

"I wanted to find you."

Utena couldn't bring herself to say anything else, there was no need to. No words could ever describe what had happened between them, the feelings they had for each other. Instead, she intertwined their fingers together, and the act of it felt like putting together two halfes of a broken heart.

A loud, unpleasant whistling sound filled the air.

Anthy let out a small breath and smiled in amusement, lowering her gaze.

"The tea..."

There they were, sitting at a table again, with two cups, a plate of cookies, and ChuChu sleeping peacefully beside them. Anthy took both of Utena's hands in hers, and squeezed them gently. Right now, neither of them felt like drinking. No words were spoken that night. Just tears of pure joy spilled, and knowing, tender smiles exchanged. It wasn't a happy ending, it was hardly an ending at all. The next day, there were other hardships for them to face. But in that moment, none of that mattered, because these two girls found each other, and at last - were free. Finally, together, shining brighter than the stars in the sky.

[dominimoonbeam]

Bite to Bruise - 33

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

story tags: modern-fantasy mashup, werewolves, witches, monsters, romance, learning to trust, hurt/comfort, blood, violence, explicit sex, explicit language

The earlier parts can be found under the tag or over on patreon. <3

BITE TO BRUISE - CHAPTER 33.

Ever wound his arms around her, gently catching her up when she was in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil.

They hadn’t spoken much since the woods. She had come home with him. They had showered, slept, and woken together. Somewhere in the night, she had let her glamour fall away. Ever said nothing. He was never sure if it was a conscious choice or something she simply forgot to hold up.

She was smaller in this form, his body curling lower to wrap around hers, and his face pressed into the dark of her hair. It felt the same against his face and smelled like magic and deep woods—just like when it was blond.

He could feel the mountain of things she wanted to say but hadn’t quite decided how. He certainly wasn’t going to rush her. Ever would happily wait a lifetime for her to put her words right, so long as he could wait with her.

Her fingers touched his arm, dancing across his skin and dragging the ripples of magic. Ever didn’t think she felt it the way he did. It was her own skin, after all, even if it was stained black by magic from fingertips to knuckles.

“Ever…” the witch started, her voice raw.

He opened his eyes, forehead against the back of her hair, listening to her heart beat and her breath drag deep. She had been so close to crossing that river yesterday—to throwing herself into an unknown that no one had ever returned from. He had meant what he’d said. He would follow her if she went in. He had seen her in those icy waters, like the cold hadn’t touched her. If anyone could survive what was in that forest, it was his witch.

A howl cut through the air outside, making the shadows of his own fenrir roll off his shoulders and snarl.

Invasion.

As if she understood that howl, his witch turned out of his arms and with no effort at all, drew her glamour over herself. She grew a head taller, broader and thicker, brushing past his side on her way to the front of the house.

She stopped by the door, leaning against the wall like she could see through it but didn’t dare to put her face in the window. “They’re here…”

He knew, because his pack knew, gathering and spreading out in the valley around the house, between the road and the woods. “I’ll take care of it,” Ever said, brushing a lock of now blond hair off her shoulder before grabbing the doorknob and letting a gust of winter air into the house.

He stepped outside and closed the door.

The black cars had come up that long road from Blood Country but stopped just in sight, lining the side of the road while one continued on alone.

Ever crossed the porch and stood on the top step, waiting.

Sky walked closer, the shape of a giant fenrir cutting through the thick snow on his way. He stopped, far enough away to make anyone who hadn’t fought a fenrir think they were safely out of distance.

The car pulled right up to the house and stopped, engine idling.

Ever waited. He kept his gaze on the car while other eyes in his pack watched the cars, estimating numbers and silently discussing strategy and odds. Was this the arm Blackwell had brought to start her war and take their land? Could they chase them off?

He felt Sunny slipping through the door between their territories, followed by a handful more into the house.

The door to the backseat opened and Primrose stepped out of the car. The wind pulled at the delicate gold adornments of Primrose’s vest and slacks, tugging the thin material of his dress shirt tight to his skin before whipping it the other way. He flashed Ever a smile like he was expected and lifted a hand, the gesture asking for a moment. He had not dressed for winter but he did not seem to notice the cold either, turning and reaching into the car with that same hand that had asked for patience.

He guided a human out, she wobbled and winced at the daylight. She had an ornate box curled in one arm against her narrow chest and leaned against the side of the car when he closed the door, giving her nowhere to go. It seemed that the car was all that held her up, legs shaking on bare feet in the snow. But she wasn’t shivering. She didn’t appear to be cold either, her cheeks flushed and her breath curling hot off her chapped lips.

The stink of pending death radiated off of her along with that sickly heat.

The packs growled. Ever’s lip curled. Everything inside of him raged to get her away from them—away from their land and their families and their town.

The human spoil did not hear the snarls, her head tipping back to roll her unfocused gaze across the afternoon sky. A thick, bloody tear pearled at the corner of her eye.

Blood sickness. She was a timebomb. The second she died, riding her last breath, the illness would escape into the wind. “What have you done?”

Primrose took a few steps away from her, toward Ever. “Nothing, yet. And nothing you can’t fix with a miracle. I hear you’re a wolf with access to miracles.”

Ever snapped his gaze back to the shade. A jolt shot along his spine, and he recognized it, at first vaguely and then with dawning horror. It was fear. He felt afraid for the first time since he was a kid because this shade had a reckoning on his tongue and was prepared to speak it.

“Do you know why wolves and witches don’t coexist, boy?”

Ever stared back at the other man, wondering if he too could feel the presence of the witch on the other side of the door, just inside his home, listening to every word.

“It wasn’t always the way of things. There was a time, long before your father and his father, when the fae were plentiful. Never enough to be their own kingdom but enough not to be thought extinct by most. They made the mistake of thinking we were their friends. Many of the midnights had witches in their courts, as did the sunrisen. But the witches thought they were our equals. They thought they were exempt from the lines we drew around our bloodlines and our races. They thought they could come and go freely.”

Ever hung on his words, heart pounding, but gaze flicking back to that sickly human against the side of the car. Every rattling breath she dragged could be her last and bring a plague to his land.

“My midnight never kept a witch in her court, but I saw what happened. We all did. Everyone knows how possessive immortals can be. As far as the courts were concerned, those witches belonged to them. But what could they do to keep them when bribery and emotional manipulation finally failed? Witches are dangerous.”

The human whined like she was trying to hum along to something only she heard. It was painful to watch and worse to feel how much he just wanted to shove her back into that car and close the door. “What did they do?” he asked, suspecting.

Primrose rolled a tongue against one fang, as though considering whether or not to share that next secret. “I don’t remember which court started the culling… They moved quickly, before the witches could suspect.”

“They killed all of them?” Ever wasn’t surprised. The shades must have had access to the magical bloodlines at that point, before they were spread out and so watered down that a true witch was beyond rare.

“It’s not a bloodline,” Prim said, watching him with those cunning eyes and either hearing his thoughts or divining them. He had Ever’s full attention. “The bloodlines you know are watered down and still rippling with magic, showing themselves in seers and scryers, crafters of the echo of that great unfathomable power, but no witch is born to the bloodline. The witches that have walked this world have never been the descendants of witches who walked before them. They are eternal in their own right. The midnights had figured it out already, or else they would not have risked the culling.

When a witch dies, their soul settles back into the soil and cultivates a new form. It can take a year or twenty, but eventually they are born again from the mud and roots, returned to the world and to our waiting hands. In the time before, they would be there waiting for one another, to guide them back into life and remind them of who they were and who they are. But the culling was all and when they woke again, it was only we who waited and we who told them who they were.” Prim’s smile twitched, uncontrollably cruel. “We don’t mind lying when it gets us what we want… But it never really made them more loyal to us. Eventually they strayed. Eventually the magic wielders always did as they pleased.” Primrose’s smile tightened, painfully honest in how much he seemed to like that and grieve it for them. “They stopped returning. Almost all of them. They just… never came up from the ground.”

But not Wren. Wren was here now. Wren was hunted by Baron. Why?

“It has been my rare pleasure to match deals in truths. They are the most efficient way to find terms, but not always accessible or suitable to trade. But this…” He grinned, looking around as if to take in the whole valley, the gathering pack, the house behind Ever, and the woods beyond. He nodded. “I think we can find terms, Hayes. I think we can finish this today and be done with one another.”

Ever curled a lip, flash fang. “Is that why you’ve come with an army and a plague?”

Primrose’s gaze snapped back to his, never more snakelike than in that moment. Ever wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if a slender, forked tongue had flicked past the shade’s lips. “Blackwell does not want your land and will not be buying it from you,” he announced. “We come with truths today, boy. All the truth and no time to waste,” he said like it pleased him. “We want your service in bringing something out of the woods and in return for that service, we will leave when it is done and not bother you again.”

Ever frowned. They wanted something in the woods to come out? Why? And what? “There’s nothing but monsters in those trees.”

Primrose shrugged. “Of course, just leaving isn’t payment enough for your help, lord of fur and tooth. We will keep the knowledge of your witch to ourselves,” he said in that deep, smooth voice. Ever felt a fist grip his heart. “We will not tell Baron where to find her, and,” those eyes were on his eyes, boring deep. “We will answer the question no one else can—Why can’t wolves and witches coexist? Why is she a curse to you? Why is Baron hunting her?”

The pause after those words seemed painfully long. The whole valley waited, even those long out of earshot. Primrose waited and Ever could hear Wren’s heart beat faster through the door behind his back. Would she run again? He had seen how terrified she was of Baron, but he knew the answer to those questions would be too much to resist. He wanted to know but she needed to know.

The doorknob turned.

Primrose grinned wider and Ever growled and pushed a step forward just to drive the shade another step back when she opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

They could take this deal, but he couldn’t trust what they’d get from it or that the leeches would really leave his land and not come back. His gaze flicked out toward the line of cars on the road and the dozens of blood creatures standing outside them, waiting and watching.

His fenrir were just as still in the valley, staring right back. The slightest signal would set them all off and they would melt the snow with violence and bloodshed.

Bellamy stood beside him, the wind pulling at her blond hair and one gloved hand twisting in the pendants and chains she wore. She sneered at Primrose like she wasn’t scared and it was so convincing that Ever could have believed it if he didn’t know her so well.

Ever wasn’t sure if Prim believed her show or not, but he did believe that strange ripple of relief and sadness on the old shade’s face when he beheld her. His smile dimmed to something scant and polite. “Wren, is it?” He tipped his head and rolled a hand at his side in an ancient gesture. “We have never met, fae creature. I apologize for my tactics and for your fate. Even by our ideals, Kish has gone too far with you. It’s a waste. If any other house had claim to you, you’d be prized and pampered.”

Ever ground his teeth but Bellamy spoke. “Pampered until I tried to leave or didn’t do as I was told, right?”

Primrose’s smile grew and he gave a coy shrug. “We are all as we were made to be. The dogs are wild and proud just as the shades are possessive and dramatic.”

“And me?”

Prim sighed, a twinge of that sadness returning and Ever couldn’t fight the terrible feeling that this man was looking at her like the last of her kind. “You are free, despite all the imaginings and efforts of others, because the world is as you make it and your kind have never been able to see themselves broken. Baron has tried many times, yes, but never for long, and never truly succeeded. He can take your tongue before it curses him and your eyes before they spite him. He can take your hands to stop the weaving of your magic and trap you in that skin for a time, but he has never been able to break you.”

A growl rippled through the wolves in the valley as the words struck, not as a nasty threat or idea, but as a truth of something that had happened and would happen again.

“It is madness to hold a grudge for so long against someone who doesn’t even remember the crime,” Primrose continued, conceding as though they were on the same side.

Ever tasted blood on his teeth and realized it was his own, jaw clenched too tightly.

He shivered at the feeling of a conversation without words taking place along that psychic thread that bound his pack. No one outside of fenrir ever really understood how their packs worked. They saw one voice and one lead with their mortal eyes and tasted the word alpha, turning it over and over in their fantasies. But that figure was chosen. Ever was in charge because his pack put him there and together they had a thousand debates and arguments spoken and felt across that connective spirit.

There was no debate this time.

There was no disagreement.

He shivered and the pack as a whole relaxed. They were of one mind now and that mind said to make the deal, give Blackwell what she wants. Let her come in close, let her look at the woods. That mind said to tell Baron where to find the witch too because that mind, his pack, his heart, said they were going to kill every damn shade until the whole of Blood Country understood—the witch was going nowhere. The fenrir would give up nothing.

[des8pudels8kern]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).

I got tagged by @forloveofcodywan. I'm not actively working on it rn because my offline life is busy, but I do have a file for the sequel to The ground between unstoppable force and immovable object and I open it occasionally and try to add to the plot notes. But I do have a first draft of what will likely be the first couple hundred words, so have an excerpt from that:

“Get to the point, please.” He flipped a page of the flimsiwork in his hands, to less-than-subtly indicate that there was work to be done. He knew Obi-Wan knew he hadn’t registered a single word he’s read all evening. He also knew Obi-Wan wouldn’t call him out on it. He felt too guilty for what his deception put them all through to demand anything of them they were not ready to give. “Do you still love me?” Oh. Never mind. Cody forgot that Obi-Wan learned to fight in a civil war first, and in the civilized training salles of his Order second. If you were uncertain you could win an engagement, limited resources were better used for targeted blows straight to the heart than wasted on a drawn-out battle you might end up losing. Cody usually liked this about him; it made for a better survival rate for the 212th than many other battalions had. Then again, it hadn’t kept Obi-Wan from dying, had it.

Open tag for everybody who is currently working on something and wants to share a sneak peek!

[randompurr]

Hi everyone! I am doing an overdue pin post introduction! [it’s time for an EDIT UPDATE]

(Taking a mental health break) I’m back?

Honestly life is kicking my butt

Pfp by @raouwul 💜 thank youuu

About the artist:

I like to draw! So I mostly post fanfic of my anime and manga crushes! I’m into manga, webtoon, anime and wuxia!! I also post random stuff that happens to me through out the day and random thoughts.

* From time to time I might open requests or art trades also my commissions are always open if y’all are interested (just send a quick message I won’t bite) ^u^

I would perfer if 18+ people follow my page, I am NOT responsible for the things I might post(…if I post o.o im not consistent since I’m always busy or procrastinating)

FYI my art changes based on my mood (///‘~’////)

(If you are a bot I will report and block on the spot don’t play with me)

Side blogs are

@randompurr-reblogs

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My original characters are Aida(my main oc), Ren(ML), Azari and Zo (the couple), Aró(the silent but deadly) the amazing Malaikah aka Mal 💜,side original characters are Xayah, Zija, Esteban, Sai and Emmi.

I am still making up their story cuz I keep changing it and changing their designs xD but they are my nephilims 💜 except Aida cuz she was an angel! I guess, their story would be more like a slice of life story 😌

Also if you love my art and would love to support me, you can follow the link bellow, I will appreciate it very much! (Kofi is pretty much abandoned but it doesn’t hurt to have it there)

My background consists of multiple talented artists who drew my oc Aida, I really appreciate it and love the drawings very much 💜

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REQUESTS (closed until further notice💜)

Thank you all who have requested so far!!

🎨Art trades(depends)👾

Also please I ask that no one puts my art into a AI generated program, or REPOST my art in any other website or copy and claim. thank you!

I should disclose that 90% of the time i am using a reference for the pose unless im getting payed or if im brimming with inspiration, if you want the pose just ask for it but also don’t be rude about it xD my references consist mostly of photographs I like unless someone asks for a specific pose. (Im so sorry I forgot to add this!)

Reblogs is what makes me keep going if you like my art and want to support me you are welcome to reblog and spam like, it motivates me!💜💜

My art is lost in all this chaos! I put some tags in this post to help you find stuff!

[light-is-typing]

Special Afternoon

Dwayne Hoover x Gn!reader

Word count: 1.5K

Summary: You come over to watch a show with Dwayne

Tags/warnings: nothing but fluff :))

A/N: ahh first time posting a fic here

"Hey y/n, you wanna come over today? We could watch a few episodes" 

Dwayne was of course talking about you guys' regular tv show you watched together. You've developed a habit of coming over to his house to watch it every so often, 'course you never actually understood what it was about, since the show was just an excuse.

An excuse to get closer to each other, to feel time freeze in place.

You were no strangers to each other's touch, having grown up together, but something about these lazy afternoons made every brush of your skin against his special.. Different. Something about the hazy orangy-yellow light coming from his window made everything seem like a daydream.

"I'd love to!" You smile at him, and his cheeks, which quickly turned pink, flushed a smile back.

You don't really remember exactly when you started having this kind of effect on him, but you don't complain, if you were as white as he is, he'd be able to tell that he made you just as flustered. Having a crush on your best friend seemed awfully cheesy, and undoubtedly he'd tease you to no end if he knew. Sometimes, it'd look like he liked you back, evident by the pink coloration now coloring his ears too, and, well, your special afternoons together. Oh, right. You're drawn out of you're thoughts as you snap back to reality, startled by the bus's noise as it starts to move out of the parking spot, you realize you're somehow sat next to Dwayne in the back of the bus. Wow, you really do get lost in your own thoughts. 

Dwayne looks like he's lost in thoughts too though. You can't help but staring, as the sun lights his green eyes, making him look so dreamy and content. He's listening to an audio book, probably some smartass stuff- 'course you like him for having smartass interest, you find it amusing, honestly you could listen to him for hours on end, rambling about his favorite philosophers. 

"Y/n"

"Hm?" You're once again brought back to reality, this time by Dwayne's voice.

"You were staring" oh, yeah.

"Oh, yeah." You're huffing out an embarrassed chuckle. "Sorry, I was just thinking"

"Thinking" he smiles playfully. "What about?"

"Oh, I just can't wait to get to your house already! I'm dying to give Olive the painting I drew for her". That wasn't a complete lie, you were excited to see her reaction to the painting you made especially for her birthday.

"She's gonna love it" Dwayne says honestly.

"Can't believe my best friends is the best artists out there."

"Shut up" you say, hitting his shoulder softly; that familiar pink color is slowly heating his face again.

Finally, the bus stops. You rush out of the hot steady air in the bus, and breathe in the familiar smell of Dwayne's neighborhood. Dwayne follows you shortly, and hands you your school bag you forgot in your hurry. None of you say anything, but his eyes are teasing you, and yours shut them up.

"Olive!" You call when you enter the house. Dwayne's little sister is sitting on the couch watching a cartoon. As soon as she hears your voice she's rushing to you, and you hold her up, giving her a big hug. "Happy birthday kiddo!". She's giggling when you put her down. You catch a glimpse of Dwayne, his eyes are brightened up, he looks as if he's proud of your relationship with Olive. You kneel down in front of her and take the painting out of your bag- it shows her in her favorite costume on a stage, holding an award; you'd drawn it when you heard she won her local beauty pageant, and although you weren't a big fan of them, you liked that she had a dream.

Olive looks at the painting and you hear her squeal before she even opens her mouth. "Oh thank you thank you thank you!" She is practically dancing as she holds the drawing In a hugging motion, careful as to not tear it though. You can hear Dwayne giggle as his mom is coming out of the kitchen to greet you. 

"Hi, y/n" she smiles at you.

"Hi, it's very nice to see you" you greet her back. Dwayne is now tugging your sleeve, motioning at his room. "Sorry" you smile at her apologeticly, and you let Dwayne drag you into his room.

"Finally." He huffs as he closes the door and opens the drawer in which he keeps his laptop. He puts it on the bed and you glance at the stickers decorating it, showing images and little drawings of jets and the sky. You get comfortable on his bed, as you put your favorite pillow behind your head, knowing you won't need it for long, as you'll have something else to rest your head on. Dwayne grins at you as he climbs onto the bed, laying next to you and opening the episodes he has saved. You slowly rest your head on his shoulder and he sighs in relief, as if he's worried every time he's scared you off and you won't do that again.

The opening song starts to play, and you shove yourself closer to him, until your hands touch. You guys have held hands before, but you were never sure if it's the right time, or if he understands its meaning differently than you. Nevertheless, your index finger starts to trace his thumb softly, and you can hear a soft inhale as he tenses next to you. "Sorry" you murmur, you feel an uncomfortable sense of shame as you've misread the situation.

"No, no, don't be!" He blurts out almost too desperately. "Ah" he realizes how loud he was and gets red again "sorry, I mean, I liked it" he gestures to your hand. You feel a relieved smile washing over you as you lay your head on his shoulder again. You scoot closer to him and let your body relax again as you take his hand in yours. He makes a soft noise again, but you can feel his fingers wrap around you and it makes you feel loved, cared for. Dwayne had always made you feel this way, he just felt like home.

You then become aware of his hand slowly petting your hair; this had only happened a couple of times before- it seemed that as the days go by he gets more and more brave with his physical affection, and you had no complaints. You give his hand a light squeeze, reassuring him that you liked his touch, that you liked him. His finger traces your face now, brushing your jawline, your cheeks, the bridge of your nose - you hold your breath. You've never been this intimate with each other, and a million thoughts run through your head as you try to keep as quiet, as still as you can, to not ruin the moment. Does he actually.. Nah, of course not.. Or does he? you look up slowly, and you inhale softly as you catch him looking at you. He goes beet red now, like he's been caught doing something he's not supposed to do, but your eyes, lazy as if you were intoxicated by his touch , look at him and he can't think, he can't even be embarrassed, he just wants to lean in and.. 

Suddenly your face is very close to him, and he's startled at first because he didn't move at all- and now you're running your hands through his hair, and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. You move your hands lower to hold the sides of his face, and as you look deep into his eyes, you can see the sunlight shine through them again. And maybe that was it - that weird spell that made you act on your thoughts, maybe it was the sunlight that made you both feel like you're dreaming, as your thumb slowly brushes his parted lips, and he's gasping softly; maybe it was the magic of the moment that made you lean in and allowed you to feel the same lips with your own now, so soft and.. Eager for more? It couldn't be, but it was, he was kissing you back, and he's now cupping your face with his hands.

The kiss feels like it lasts forever, but eventually you guys are brought back to reality by Dwayne's mother, who yells at him to help her get the cake from the car. None of you say anything, but your eyes are locked in place as you take in this special moment.

Finally, red faced and short of breath, Dwayne speaks up.

"Will you-"

"Yes. Yes!" You breathe out, your thoughts still hazy and slow, but you know what he's asking, and he knows your answer.

"Then it's time I reintroduce you to my family"

[fivelakesinwriting]

Idk if you've done this before if you have I'm sorry but drew or rafe spanking you for the first time and you both liking it and you both find a new kink your into

Listen.... I'll do it one hundred times. I'm weak for this man.

Author's Notes: I chose Rafe! For some reason I feel like I don't have enough about him - the good stuff? So hereee we go! If this was your request I hope you love it. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual references - sexual innuendos, Smut *(spanking, choking, rougher sex? unprotected sex - please be safe out there, your choice how!)

Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

Rafe stumbled up the stairs towards his bedroom with the girl in his arms. She placed kiss after kiss down his neck and he found it incredibly distracting to keep his focus as he reached for his bedroom door.

"Stop." Rafe demanded breathlessly as he pressed the girl against his door, twisting the gold knob to open it and then carried her inside his room.

"I thought you liked it." She replied as she ran her fingers up into his hair then pressed another kiss to his jawline.

"I can't focus when you do shit like that." Rafe grumbled as he dropped her onto his bed, but held her thighs around his waist. He loved how warm she was around him and he couldn't wait to sink deeper into that feeling.

Rafe knelt on the bed with his girlfriend wrapped around him, her hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt as he pushed her pretty sundress around her hips. He thumbed at the satin material of her panties and bent down to kiss her lips.

"Take this off." She whined as she pulled on the last button of his shirt and reached for the collar.

"So fucking bratty tonight. Don't wreck my collar, shit's expensive." Rafe growled against her pout as he reached up to grab her wrists then pin them against his mattress.

"Take your shirt off and I won't wreck it." She replied as she writhed beneath him, her ankles locking at the small of his back to pull him closer.

Rafe chuckled while his girlfriend struggled beneath his strength. He licked his lips as he watched her chest rise and fall with frustrated breath as she gave one more tug to free her wrists from his grasp then gave up.

"Good girl. Now, turn the fuck over." Rafe grinned as he released her wrists and shrugged out of his shirt.

He felt a dull ache in his heart when she unwrapped her legs from around him and turned over, but his nerve endings were on fire again when she turned back around and pressed her backside into his groin.

"Rafe, c'mon!" She whined as she wiggled her backside against him, looking back at him over her shoulder.

"Don't rush me!" Rafe barked as he laid a firm smack on her backside, his palm connecting perfectly with her smooth skin.

He heard his girlfriend audibly gasp when their skin connected, and his stomach fell to his feet. He was certain he had crossed a line. Sure, he gave her the playful smack now and then when he walked by her, a little pat to make her wiggle and whine his name, but he had never actually spanked his girlfriend before.

"Do it again, Rafe. Please." She whispered as her back arched and she rubbed her backside against him.

"You like that?" Rafe growled as he pulled his palm back and placed another firm smack on her other cheek.

"Yes, Rafe." She breathed out while her hands stretched out in front of her, her chest dropped down to the mattress as her backside stayed in the air for all of his attention.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Rafe groaned as he hooked his fingers in the straps of her panties and tugged them over the swell of her backside to her knees. He fell to his hands above her, his chest pressed against her back while he pressed a hot kiss to the side of her face.

"I don't know." She whined as her hips rolled back against him for his attention, her fingertips pulling at his sheets. She turned to face to try and kiss his lips, but as soon as she felt his breath of her face, he was upright on his knees and his warmth against her back long gone.

"Don't have to be embarrassed, sweetheart. Anything else you wanna tell me?" Rafe mumbled as his hands kneaded as her backside, calloused fingertips brushing over her soft skin.

"I love you, Rafe." She whimpered as she pressed her cheek to the mattress and looked back at him, eyes desperate.

"I know you do, sweetheart. But that's not what I asked." Rafe breathed while he removed his hands from his girlfriend to undo his belt and pants.

"I just really like when you put your hands on me." She whimpered as she shifted back on her knees so her backside was pressed to him completely, hot skin against hot skin.

"Yeah? Like this?" Rafe growled as he reached his hand forward, wrapping it around her throat to pull her upright on her knees. Her back was pressed against his chest as she rubbed her backside against his erection, silently begging him for anything else.

"Yes, Rafe." She hissed while she reached a hand back to tug at his hair, while the other gripped at his wrist while his fingers flexed gently on her throat.

"Ready for me?" Rafe breathed out against the side of her face, his free hand behind them as he lined himself up with her entrance.

"Please, baby." She sobbed out while she rested her back on his shoulder, her nails pulling down his forearm as he teased them both while his tip rubbed through her wet folds.

"Good girl." Rafe moaned from deep in his chest as he guided himself inside her, settling inside her tight warmth while he flexed his grip on her throat just a little.

"Rafe, I can't...put me down." She panted as her thighs shook while she held her weight as Rafe stilled inside of her.

He pressed a few kisses down her neck, releasing his hand from her throat to place both hands on her hips and knocked her back down to her hands and knees in front him.

"Too much for you, sweetheart?" Rafe growled as he placed a firm slap on the left side of her ass, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as she yelped.

"Fuck you, Cameron." She hissed while her fingertips grabbed at the sheets and tugged, her nails almost piercing through the fabric as he thrust into her at a near brutal pace.

"Thought you wanted it." Rafe grunted as he pulled out to the tip then thrust back inside of her, sending her into the mattress as he laid his chest on her back. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck as he reached his right hand forward to grab at her throat again, pulling her cheek off the bed.

"I dooooo." She moaned as she gripped at the sheets while he flexed his fingers on her pulse point with his right hand, his left hand smoothing over the raised skin on her backside.

"You like it?" Rafe inquired while he placed a harsh smack on either side of her ass then squeezed her flesh.

"Yes, yes. Rafe, I'm gonna - "

"You fucking better." Rafe growled with a gentle squeeze to her throat, never restricting his love's air. He grabbed hold of her hip with his free hand and gripped tightly as he chased after both of their orgasms, his body curled over hers.

"Rafe!" She cried out as her body shook with her orgasm, her innermost walls clenching around him. If the music of the party hadn't been so loud, the laughter of the kids downstairs echoing throughout the halls of Tannyhill then everyone in the house certainly would have heard her.

They probably did anyways.

Rafe released his hold on his girlfriend's throat and grabbed at her hips with both hands instead, his own hips rabid as he followed his waves of pleasure towards his orgasm. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck then sat upright with a roar to the ceiling as he came inside of her, a bruising grip on her on flesh.

Rafe pulled out of his love then collapsed on the bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her against him.

"I love you, too." He breathed against the back of her neck as he held her close against him.

"What?" She whispered as her hands covered his on her stomach, her head rested back on his shoulder to try and see his handsome face.

"Before, you said you loved me. I didn't say it back. I love you, sweetheart." Rafe mumbled against the soft, sweaty skin of her neck while he gently ran his fingertips over the raised flesh of her backside.

"I know you do, baby." She replied as she reached back to run her fingertips through his hair, damp with sweat.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Rafe questioned as his soft kisses made their way from the back of her neck to the top of her shoulder.

"No, Rafe. Not in anyway I didn't like." She smiled as she rolled her neck to the side to encourage his affection along the side of her neck.

"Good. Now I know I can get you over my knee when you're really bratty." Rafe smirked as he licked up the side of her neck, giving her slightly sore backside a little squeeze.

"Rafe!"

Hotties:

@starkey-babie @barrysjumpsuit @sodasback @fashion-fasting @plutooryectors @babeyglo @beauvibaby @pogueslandia @soph0864 @rottenstyx @whcclxr

*tag list is open, please let me know if I forgot you or you would like to be added/removed from particular posts. I've removed the people that don't pre-populate :(

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!

[transsexualunderground]

lemme talk about some TTTE OCS!

So this was a long time coming. I tried to post an OC once before but I chickened out and deleted his post. So, here's some lore rundowns for a bunch of my OCs! And by that I mean all of 'em! And my sona, as a bonus! (and details on my personal canon!!!)

(This took me like 3 attempts to write because Tumblr kept eating the part about Wesley when I accidentally hit ctrl+z because I made a typo on Forsythia's basis :sob:)

Putting a break so I don't clog any tags haha

So, for the third time I am trying to write this (dear god), behold, Wesley the Show Engine (and his tender that I admittedly drew in a rush when I drew it)! Wesley is based on Furness No. 20's original batch of 0-4-0 locomotives, generally based on Furness No. 20 in design but less so in backstory. Canonically, he was made after that batch of locos but his build date is undecided still.

He was made for a Collector, Mr. Titus Lancaster. The two attended engine shows for years, and while Wesley enjoyed it, he was rather isolated from other engines and rolling stock for many years. He admired the railway working life from afar and longed to have it.

Eventually his wish would be granted in both his and his Collector's old age when he donated him to the NWR.

Wesley's a rather interesting character to me in his origins. He's an old engine but very inexperienced with the rails.

Personality-wise, he's kindhearted, hardworking, sincere, passionate, and would rather get along with others, but he can be very gullible (early on) due to his lack of experience, and is imbued with the spirit of Sodor's karmic justice itself. (Read: he's really vengeful at times. If you cross him, he wants to ensure you get your just desserts.)

He's humble and quick to admit to his mistakes and apologize when he messes up (an uncommon trait on the railways LOL), and while he's open-minded, he's also willing to admit he's a bit foolish and unworldly. He mainly works on Edward's Branch Line.

He likes snow and snowploughs (he finds them comfortable in the way a weighted blanket or lead x-ray wear is comfortable), karma, being out and about, any work at all, and bugs.

He dislikes being patronized/infantilized/treated as if he's stupid and incapable, geese (there was an incident), most animals, the sound of babies crying, and almost all trucks. He's open to the idea of there being trucks that aren't troublesome but he doesn't know any yet.

I'd like to highlight a central relationship he has in his stories, that of his relationship with Edward. The two were quick friends and once made eye contact at an engine show YEARS before they properly met (though neither recognized the other). Eventually that friendship became a tendency to want to work together more and more often, and the duo became very close indeed... and then they started being gay as all hell. Gay ol' engines. Good for them! (They get married in a plotline of mine. I'm dead serious. Gay train wedding!!!)

EDIT: Something I forgot to note! While he's also vengeful, he's insists on doing nice things for others who have done nice things for him. Everything is a two-way street. One turn deserves another, good or bad.

For reading all that, here's a Checkpoint Human!Wesley I drew.

Moving right along, we have a narrow gauge duo!

I present to you Forsythia the Rambunctious Engine and Nicolas, her coach. Forsythia was based on the 2-4-0T Rheidol/Talybont/Treze de Maio and a fucked up kiddie ride I saw once.

Yeah, it's a really fucked up kiddie ride.

These two are owned by Ms. Tiffany Lancaster, the niece of Wesley's former Collector (who has passed by the time she obtains these two). They are often loaned to the Skarloey to help out there (until a later event we'll touch on with the next OC).

These two got BWBA'd before I even knew what the hell was going on in BWBA. Except it's much more realistic and boring in execution. Just a lot of boring time on cargo ships with shipping mix-ups! They got to Sodor though, don't worry.

They've got the energy of childhood best friends imo. Also, Forsythia and Wesley consider one another cousins, but like, adoptive cousins specifically.

Forsythia is down to clown and is cheeky and mischievous and a prankster but she is an experienced variety. And she knows when to back off. And she will, if you ask her (and you're not on her list of Those She Is Close Enough To Clown Upon Always And Forever or Those I Hate)! I'd say she's... like... young adult or teenager -coded. She's very energetic and a Large Ham if you know about that trope.

Now, look at Nicolas, her coach. Tell me, when you look at him, do you think he's the serious sort? You'd be wrong there. He's also down to clown! And he's here for the shenanigans as well. He's simply the quiet, observant deadpan to Forsythia's rambunctious large ham.

[EDIT: I never noted that sometimes these two's antics involve collaborating with the Troublesome Trucks. Forsythia's always offended when the inevitable betrayal happens.]

Now for that lore thing I mentioned. I have an adaptation of Toby's Discovery in my AU in which TFC does not manage that part of the railway. Instead he does participate in its restoration but it is ran by none other than Tiffany Lancaster! Forsythia is the Ulfstead Heritage Railway's Engine No. 2! (Engine No. 1 is Bertram; Forsythia would've been No. 1 if some contract things with the Skarloey Railway didn't have to be sorted out first.)

[EDIT: Now that Forsythia and Nicolas are consistently on a railway, they do have a cluster of trucks that won't betray them because of how fun things just tend to be with those two.]

And on that railway, eventually there arrived a BR Class 12 Diesel, but refitted to narrow gauge.

I present my final OC, Sycorax. Sycorax's arc is very dear to me because it has origins in both a random thought I had, a quote Awdry said in a video I watched, and my own opinions on locomotives and Sodor.

The video I've linked here made me have a realization about older diesels.

https://youtu.Be/h-xesjpiqgo?T=189

I can see where Awdry was coming from on this - he witnessed dieselization firsthand! But boy, I think diesels (and electrics!) have their charm and I'm really fond of them actually. I know it's very different as a modern reader who barely has any exposure to locomotives in person anyways due to the infrastructure of the United States just… Sucking sometimes, but nevertheless, my point stands.

Sycorax's arc starts with them in a most dire place: about to be scrapped. But fate saves them and they're refitted and brought to Sodor, where they find that, despite being the new thing, they're envious of steam engines, seeing their charm and the fact that they'll always be in fashion somewhere… And they feel generic and replaceable.

But eventually they start to realize that diesels become obsolete too. Now this is particularly regarding a dash of TVS canon but I like to think that the diesels of Sodor are there because Sodor, is too, a safe haven for them as well as steam engines. That's why absolute assholes stay around sometimes, it's because they've nowhere else to go. Sycorax realizes their envy is unwarranted, and that Sodor is a safehaven for all types of engines who need it, it's just that, at the time, steam engines needed it most. And they're not replaceable. And this is home now.

[EDIT: Forgot to add that they're the UHR (ulfstead heritage railway) No. 3!]

Thank you for reading all that. As a finale, let me briefly touch on my sona, The Secondman himself.

The Secondman is literally a self-insert/sona guy who's a human studying on modern day Sodor. He volunteers on the railways of the island often. He intends to immigrate there properly once he's done with his schooling. He's essentially is to me what the Thin Clergyman was to Awdry. In-universe, he writes my fanbooks, my silly little shitposts about various Engine Incidents, and a whole bunch of other things. And he's having a good time.

I haven't drawn him. But nevertheless!

Thank you SO MUCH for reading this loredump. I hope you enjoyed.

[une-femme-de-lettres]

 KINKTOBER Day 1

Knife Play | Zoro x Reader

Words: 1400

Content: kinky and suggestive but nothing really explicit

A/N: This is not exactly knife play, but close enough…

There was an unspoken rule between you and your crewmates. Whether Zoro was napping, plunged deep into an alcohol daze, or simply zoned out while training, you should never sneak up on him or take him by surprise. Ever.

So you didn’t really know what crossed your mind the moment you decided it was a good idea to climb up the ladder leading to the crow’s nest to bring him a blanket. It was a rather cold night and you thought it wouldn’t hurt for him to have something in case he needed some warmth. At least it was what you told yourself to avoid admitting that you couldn’t find sleep, alone in your bed, while he was on watch.

You quietly made your way through the trap door and closed it behind you only to find Zoro sitting in a corner, his head kept down as he snored softly in the silence of the night. You smiled slightly at the sight, noting the katana he held against his torso.

As predicted, the air was rather chilly in the crow’s nest and as usual, Zoro’s upper body was only covered with his green coat. You slowly made your way towards him, unfolding the blanket before bending over slowly in front of him.

You didn’t have time to lay the blanket on his sleeping figure before you were, in what felt like an instant, pushed back against the wall. The silence was broken by the sound of a blade sliding out a its sheath and you gasped, feeling the coolness of the metal sink ever so slightly into the skin of your neck.

Your hands still clutched the blanket tightly as you laid eyes on the glistening blade. Zoro stood completely still, every one of his muscles had precisely moved into a fighting stance. He was a couple of feet away from you, the arm that held the katana to your throat only slightly bent at the elbow.

You watched the tendons in his hand move ever so slightly under his skin as he gripped the handle tighter. The movement, while practically imperceptible, made the metal of the blade sink deeper into your skin, not yet drawing blood, but enough to make you feel like the coldness of it slowly seeping into the pulsing veins of your neck.

You blamed confusion, or surprise perhaps, for what happened in the next few seconds. Maybe it was pure instinct or maybe it was your subconscious taking over your body in this moment. But when your felt the blade on your neck, the sheer power that he had over you in this instant, in this position, you let out a moan.

You thought it was a gasp, or a sigh when it formed in your chest. But as it passed your vocal cords, your eyes travelled along the blade to his chest and along his neck to his face, it turned into a deep moan of both fear and anticipation.

You could pinpoint exactly the moment the sound reached his ears because his eyebrows, previously furrowed in deep focus, raised in genuine surprise. You could also tell the exact moment he figured it out as his eyebrows furrowed again, his eyes darkening and the corner of his lips bending into a smirk. He knows, you thought, he knows…

“Sorry I startled you,” you said, your voice a mere whisper, scared of moving too abruptly as the blade was still pressed to your skin. You looked at him in the eyes, waiting for a response but he remained still, his gaze baring into yours. “You can… you can put that down now,” you said, looking at the katana not sure what you were afraid of exactly.

He then took a step towards you, his arm expertly moving to accommodate the change of position while still holding the metal in its exact place. He was so close however, that you could now feel the heat radiating from his body, you could feel his calm breath meet your ragged one in the empty space left between you. The mere sight and feeling of his body so close to you awakened something in you. You slowly let out a shallow sigh.

“You never told me,” he said, making you look at him in the eyes again. His voice had deepened but that same smirk was still on his lips. You could pretend you didn’t know what he meant, but could you really…?

“I didn’t know,” you simply said, stating the truth, waiting for his next move. He only inched closer to you, ever so slowly, his every move precisely calculated. He was now so close that you could feel his breath against the other side of your neck.

“Do you want me to put it down…?” he whispered into your ear, making you shudder. You found his eyes from the corner of yours. You already knew the answer, but would you dare saying it out loud?

Zoro patiently waited for your answer. Your breath was still irregular, and you struggled to contain the rising heat inside your core. He had often found himself in a position of power during your intimate time together, but you never felt something so strong and enticing. The danger made it all the more exquisite.

“I’m yours,” you let out, you voice shaky yet your words resolute. As the sweet sound of your voice reached his ears, his smile widened. He looked briefly to the side before laying eyes on you again, looking at your mouth, your jaw, your neck.

“I like to hear that,” he said, coming even closer and gently biting the lobe of your ear, making you moan and close your eyes. You finally dropped the blanket you were holding this whole time and for a moment forgot your position. You felt the metal dig deeper into your flesh and gasped, your eyes suddenly open and you mind alert again.

He kept staring at you, drinking in the sight of you, helpless under his blade. You sighed when the sharp edge left your skin, only leaving a scratch where it had previously laid. Your eyes found his hand as it gripped the handle of the katana tighter, turning it every so slightly so that the flat side of the blade was pressed into your flesh.

He moved deliberately slowly to ensure you could watch every second of the little show he was putting on. He moved the sword down gently, letting the metal glide along your skin, down your neck, along your collar bone and onto your clothed breast.

His body, pressed into yours made you feel just how much he desired you. You now couldn’t help the flow of heat towards your core. You felt your nipples harden under the fine fabric of your top as the blade passed over your breast. The coolness of the metal against your perked nipple made you sigh in pleasure and he smiled again, looking down at your chest.

With extreme care, he moved the blade to the side, gliding in along the fabric, revealing your nipple from underneath. The friction of the beveled edge of the blade against your sensitive nipple and the imminent danger of having a sharp edge so close to a part of your body drew a moan from the depths of your throat.

“Do you like it?” Zoro asked in a breath. You looked back at him. An almost imperceptible nod from you was enough for him and he dipped into the crook of your neck again, kissing and nibbling at the skin under your ear. “We’re certainly going to have some fun with this later…” he announced in the shell of your ear, slowly withdrawing his sword.

You didn’t anticipate the void you felt when he did so. You looked at him in the eyes again and you could swear he saw the disappointment in your gaze. Once the sword was carefully laid down against the wall beside you, he pressed his lips to yours to capture you into a passionate kiss.

With the blade gone, you found a burst of energy within you and you cupped his face with your hands, opening your mouth to deepen the kiss. Both of your bodies ignited with a new flame, you let yourselves go in each other’s arms. At this point, you did not care to find sleep, you just wanted to feel him against you, to feel him inside you.

__________

tags: @some-piece​ I’m tagging you cause I saw your post and I think you like Zoro?👉👈 I don’t know if you’re into this kink though😳

[theres-a-goldensky]

30 More The Untamed Fic Recs

Here we go again. Another Wangxian rec list. Are you bored of me yet?

Were these recs helpful to you? If so, you can check out my other Wangxian rec posts:

Part 1 - 40 recs

Part 2 - 23 recs

Part 3 - 23 recs

As ever, feel free to reblog.

You can also head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

(All recs are complete) (I’ve noted pairings, length, and rating, but not any warnings or additional tags.)

** denotes personal favorite

1. say it's here where our pieces fall in place by Lirelyn - ~69,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Lan Zhan meets Wei Wuxian after he adopts a small A-Yuan, because Wei Wuxian also has a past with him. Lots of adorable family feelings and emotional hurt/comfort.

As often happened, Wei Ying’s voice preceded his entrance, calling to his co-worker through the open door, “Frankie, they forgot to order spoons again, can you hold down the fort a little longer while I —”

Lan Wangji was already looking to his entrance, head turning as if magnetized toward the voice, so he saw the moment when Wei Ying’s eyes landed on A-Yuan and the smile fell from his face. He looked stricken, and Lan Wangji immediately looked to his son in alarm. A-Yuan seemed fine. His small eyebrows were pulled together in a small frown as he looked back at Wei Ying, but that wasn’t surprising, given the expression on Wei Ying’s face. Lan Wangji had seen that face beaming, laughing, whining, wheedling, and occasionally angry, but never like this. He looked blank and hollow and it stirred something fierce in Lan Wangji: he wanted to rise up and obliterate whatever was making him look like that. Then his eyes lifted to Lan Wangji and there was a flash of something almost like betrayal, before he pressed his lips together and turned his back.

“I’m going to run out to the store and get spoons,” he said in a flat voice to his co-worker, and left without looking their way again.

2. the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships - ~41,000 words, mature - This is an AU of the novel where Wei Wuxian puts two and two together when Lan Zhan sneaks that kiss from him. It changes a lot of things.

Against his own will, Wei Wuxian found himself glancing at Lan Wangji’s hands. They were… certainly large enough that one of them could wrap around both of his wrists. And Lan Wangji was certainly strong enough, tall enough, broad-shouldered enough to bodily pin him against the trunk of a tree with no chance of him breaking free. Lan Wangji was the first person he’d come across in his slow comb through the vicinity of where he’d been so headily kissed.

Wei Wuxian drew a sharp breath. There was a connection to be made here. He didn’t think he was crazy enough to make it. Perhaps he truly was going slightly insane with demonic cultivation if he could believe Lan Wangji, the paragon of virtue and respectability, who lived unflinchingly under Gusu Lan’s three thousand edicts, who had at best only tolerated his presence as children, would sneak up to him while he was blindfolded, pin him against a tree, and steal a kiss from him in broad daylight.

3. and his wanting grows teeth by yukla - ~25,000 words, teen - This is a very interesting AU where Lan Zhan is a traveling cultivator and runs into Wei Wuxian and the Jiangs looking for shelter during a snowstorm. No spoilers, but this fic goes to a pretty dark place that genuinely shocked me, but I enjoyed. (Still ends well though.)

Without further ado, they are hustled past the entrance and into a smaller greeting area. Huang-bobo approaches the brazier in the center with his hands outstretched, warming his fingers in the heat, but Lan Wangji hangs back. As he carefully brushes the snow free from his shoulders, he feels the burn of a curious gaze trailing up and down his body, lingering at the guqin still strapped to his back; when the sensation pauses at his face and stays there, he lifts his head.

The boy with the ribbon lights up at the eye contact, flashes another dazzling smile, and gives a little wave.

“You must be new here,” he whispers, something like laughter threaded into his voice, eyes scrunching into winking half-moons. “All dressed up in white like that! You might lose yourself in the snowstorm!”

Something stirs to life in Lan Wangji’s chest. It’s—uncomfortable, he decides, and so he steps away. Teasing should not be encouraged with a response.

4. Ghosts Shouldn't by ShanaStoryteller - ~15,000 words, not rated - After Wei Ying's death, his spirit seems to linger. The story is told from Lan Xichen's point of view. I love an outsider point of view. I also love the way the author fleshes out his character as well.

Lan Xichen means to force his way inside, angry ghost of the Yiling Patriarch or no, but then his brother lets out slow breath, settling, the pain easing from his face as he falls back into a more peaceful sleep.

His hair is moving on its own, so subtly Lan Xichen might not have noticed it if he hadn’t been looking at Wangji so intently. It’s like someone’s running their hand through his hair.

The window frosts over suddenly, thick enough that he can’t see through it. Anxiety spikes through him so quickly he’s nauseous with it, but then the frost melts away and the opening notes of Healing start up again.

He can’t tell if it’s a warning or not. Maybe it’s just an acknowledgement. Wei Wuxian knows he’s there.

5. **leading tone by silencemostofall - ~32,000 words, general - This is a modern AU set in a world where people who love you leave a mark of color on you the first time you touch. Wei Wuxian has no color on him. So much emotional hurt/comfort. So much of Wei Wuxian's terrible self-esteem.

He can cover up his palms with his gloves, so that the blankness does not draw stares. But he has no marks on his fingertips, which he cannot easily hide, and none visible on his face or neck, the blankness of which is even more difficult to hide. People look at him and, with a single glance, understand the single most devastating truth that he knows about himself.

They assume that he does not have very many marks. He may be an eccentric, dramatic person, but the likelihood that an individual has all of their marks on, say, their feet or their torso or other places that are not immediately obvious-- that probability goes down as your number of marks increases. He can laugh as much as he wants about how he loves touching people for the first time with odd places, like the knee or the elbow, but it doesn't quite mask the feeling of other that he knows he exudes.

They assume that he does not have a lot of marks. This, while a heavy weight, is not unbearably so. It is okay that they think he is not much loved. It chafes a bit, and feels occasionally like something he has to furiously push down within himself, but it is not unbearable. What would be unbearable is if they knew the truth: that he does not just have very few marks, but none. That he is simply an individual who is not loved at all.

6. **pastel by antebunny - ~7,000 words, gen - This is a remix work of the above fic. It's from Lan Zhan's point of view and just different enough to be interesting. Still lots of emotional hurt/comfort. I love this concept a whole lot, and both of these fics are great.

It’s a simmering day in May, and Wei Ying is wearing long sleeves, long pants, and gloves.

His choice of dress isn’t unusual for many reasons. For one, there’s plenty of people who don’t like strangers seeing their soulmarks. There’s plenty of people who wish to keep them private by covering them up. For another, Wei Ying spends most of his day in various chilly computer science department rooms, He could just be wearing long sleeves for that.

7. one good thing by Yuu_chi - ~27,000 words, teen - Wei Wuxian has died (or did he??) and is haunting his old home. Lan Zhan moves in. This story has a happy ending! And so much yearning!

To the flowers struggling to grow on the other side of the glass, he says, “We’re getting a new roommate. Well, I’m getting a new roommate - you’re getting somebody who might actually be able to water you for a change.” The flowers outside sway a little in the breeze, and Wei Wuxian nods contemplatively. “He can’t be any worse than the last guy who lived here. Remember when I spooked him while he was cooking and he nearly burnt the house down? Of course you don’t. You’re fucking foliage, your memory is worse than mine. I remember though, so it’s cool.”

There’s the sound of shuffling behind him and Wei Wuxian looks up to see the stranger has entered the kitchen, setting the last of the boxes down on the table. Disgustingly neat handwriting declares the box kitchen - homeware. The stranger carefully brushes his hair back from his face and, without so much as a second of hesitation, cracks open the box and begins unpacking.

“Wow, you really don’t waste any time, do you?” Wei Wuxian marvels. “You literally just got here - who cares about unpacking? Sit down for a moment, breathe, have something to eat. It’s not going anywhere.”

8. with you, I am home by tellthemstories - ~47,000 words, mature - Modern AU where Wei Wuxian is being forced to return home to entertain marriage proposals. So naturally instead he "convinces" Lan Zhan to pretend to date him. I love a good fake dating fic, and this one hits all the right beats.

Lan Zhan does that almost-smile thing that Wei Wuxian takes to mean he’s happy, or at the very least not-mad. “You don’t have any money.”

“Not true. I have the money from our last job, when we settled the vengeful spirit for the flower shop girl.” (He doesn’t. They have Lan Zhan’s money. Wei Wuxian spent his on a pack of loquats and three bottles of Emperor’s Smile wine.)

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian says. “Do it for me.”

Thinking back on it two weeks later, standing alone in the middle of Jin Ling’s graduation banquet and watching Lan Zhan walk away from him, Wei Wuxian realises that this, this was the moment when he should have known. He should have realised in the way Lan Zhan doesn’t hesitate or negotiate and just says with that half-fond, half-exasperated tone he gets sometimes, “Fine.”

9. and in the spring i shed my skin by wvlfqveen - ~11,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Wei Ying can't find Lan Zhan, but hey, there happens to be a rabbit here instead. Features a very slow Wei Ying, emotional hurt/comfort and accidental love confessions.

Immediately, his heart settles and he grins down at his new friend. “Oh, hello there,” he coos, reaching out to pet the fluffy ears. The bunny is very, very still under his hand.

“Did Lan Zhan bring you today?,” he continues cooing. “I’m sorry I missed that, but your Dad didn’t tell me he was bringing you.”

Lan Zhan rarely brings his rabbits to work since they are as tolerant of crowds and unnecessary noise as he is. They were probably relevant to today’s lesson but…

Wei Ying frowns. “Why would he leave you alone? And where is your cage?”

10. how, or when, or from where by sarahyyy - ~10,000 words, gen - Wei Ying wakes up in the hospital with amnesia and can't remember the last few years of his life, including his best friend and the guy he's in love with.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes so hard Wei Wuxian is surprised his eyeballs don’t just fall out of his eye sockets. “That’s the worst part. He did. Whatever mating ritual you both have going on is so fucking weird, Wei Wuxian.” He snorts. “If you’d stayed asleep for any longer, I’d have lost my shit and thrown my myself out a window just so I wouldn’t have to talk to Lan Wangji again.”

Wei Wuxian blinks at him. “Is this a good time to ask who Lan Wangji is?”

Jiang Cheng glares at him. “Your Lan Zhan,” he says, annoyed. Wei Wuxian must look as confused as he feels, because Jiang Cheng’s annoyance bleeds out into concern. “Your Lan er-gege? Your soulmate, Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “No bells are ringing.”

11. ** a shared plate by yukla - ~26,000 words, teen - This is an absolutely gorgeous fic about Wei Wuxian traveling the world post-canon to rediscover himself and restore his faith in humanity and eventually find his way back to Lan Zhan. The whole thing is great, but the last two chapters are just *chef's kiss*

Lan Zhan,

Just as the mountains stand unchanging and the green rivers flow ceaselessly, we will meet again — and between then and now, you cannot hope to avoid my letters, either! Haha! Lan Zhan, I’ve seen so many things and met so many people, and it’s only been a month!

I miss you already

It’s so hot that I find myself missing the wind in Gusu’s mountains. Your poor Wei Ying is I’m melting away, Lan Zhan...

I’m realizing now, sixteen years is a long time to be away — the world is vast, and quite a bit different than I remembered. And in sixteen years, a child can also grow up into a man! It’s your job to catch me up on A-Yuan’s fun childhood stories! I do remember hearing something about a pile of rabbits...

12. with your arms outstretched to me by annemari - ~14,000 words, teen - Lan Zhan finally gets up the nerve to ask Wei Ying on a date, but things don't go as expected. Features emotional hurt/comfort (are we sensing a theme with these recs??) and just regular hurt/comfort.

"Oh, man, I was hoping you had some water with you," Wei Ying says. "I totally forgot to bring any for myself. Stupid of me."

"There is enough for both of us," Lan Wangji says. He has another bigger bottle in the car, as well.

Wei Ying hums but he only takes a few sips. He presses it back into Lan Wangji's hand. "I don't need any more."

Lan Wangji is considering arguing, but then Wei Ying shifts a bit, moving his ankle, and gasps very, very quietly.

13. ** A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart - ~22,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian has finished traveling and returned to the Cloud Recesses and Lan Zhan. But their lives never do run smoothly.

“Lan Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian says, recognizing him after a moment. His heart slams against his rib cage. “Where is Lan Zhan? What’s happened?”

Lan Jingyi flaps a hand at him, gulping air. Wei Wuxian hands him the water, and leans back against Little Apple’s side as he waits impatiently for the boy to get his breath back.

“I’m so glad I found you,” Jingyi gasps, just as Wei Wuxian is about to throttle a proper answer out of him. “Hanguang Jun was in such a state when he woke up, we didn’t know if you’d come and gone already.”

“Where is he, Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian says, as evenly as he can. “What happened?”

14. So Why Not Crack Your Skull When the Mind Swells by greenteafiend - ~14,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel extraordinary pain unless he's touching Lan Zhan. Yet more of Wei Wuxian's self-esteem issues and Lan Zhan's steadfast devotion.

“Are you hurt, Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asks, pressing his hand to Wei Ying’s forehead to feel his temperature. There is no fever, but that doesn’t do much to mitigate Lan Wangji’s worries.

“No—I’m not hurt,” says Wei Ying, sagging forward to lean his weight into Lan Wangji’s hand like he can’t help himself.

It’s so strange—Lan Wangji can feel what Wei Ying is feeling. Although the relief is still very profound, wisps of other things are making themselves known; happiness; wistfulness; guilt. It’s all so fleeting that Lan Wangji can’t even begin to deduce what has provoked those feelings, but he wishes he knew their source.

15. puzzle pieces by Anonymous - ~6,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are roommates, and Wei Ying has started borrowing Lan Zhan's clothes.

“Hm? Oh.” With sleepy eyes that does— things to Lan Zhan’s heart, he blinks and tugs at the lower hem of the shirt, which is riding just above the curve of his thighs. Does Lan Zhan’s mouth water? Maybe. Yes. Absolutely. “Ah, yeah, sorry. Laundry day caught up to me before I could catch up with it. I saw this shirt left in the washer a few days ago, and—“ He blinks up at Lan Zhan through dark eyelashes that Lan Zhan wants to kiss, maybe, and gives him an uncharacteristically hesitant smile. “Do you mind?”

I mind the fact that we are not married, Lan Zhan thinks. But he can’t say that, and his tongue doesn’t know how to say anything else. So he stays silent.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says after a moment. “If you—oh, damn, I should’ve known, this is like real silk, must’ve been super expensive. Fuck. Okay, here, uh, I’ll take it off—“

16. ** Nothing But Trouble by brooklinegirl - ~60,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Wei Ying is trying to be a good brother and get Jiang Cheng laid. Somehow this plan involves pretending to date Lan Zhan.

"I won't!" Wei Ying insists. "I'll ask out someone...high stakes. I'll find someone. I'll...okay, how's this? I swear that I'll ask someone out and keep at it for at least two dates."

"No."

"Three dates."

"Nope."

"Okay, okay, five. That's fair! That's more than fair! One person, five dates." He points at Jiang Cheng. "You have to do it, too. That's how a pact works."

Jiang Cheng stares at him. "Five dates," he says flatly. "Five. And yours can't be Nie Huaisang."

17. i'm the one for your fire by occultings (microcomets) - ~43,000 words, explicit - This is a Modern AU and a Cherry Magic AU! (Side note: GO WATCH CHERRY MAGIC IF YOU HAVEN'T.) But in short, Wei Ying turns 30 without losing his virginity and gets the power to hear people's thoughts when he touches them. He gets more than he bargained for with Lan Zhan. The author does a good job of translating the story to these characters. Wei Ying is not forced to be like Adachi, the main character of Cherry Magic. He's still himself, and the same goes for Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan’s voice is so clear, so sudden that it’s as though it’s spoken, the slice of a sharp object through velvet.

He’s touching me.

Wei Ying startles for a moment, wonders if he’d somehow heard his own thoughts instead, but — no, that had definitely been Lan Zhan’s steady, factual baritone, loud and clear.

God, this is still so weird. It still doesn’t seem totally real. But how else can he account for hearing Lan Zhan’s voice in his head, as clearly as if he’d spoken to Wei Ying directly?

18. like blue flame over my fingertips by tangerinechar - ~37,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are roommates, and Lan Zhan just finds himself wanting to take care of Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji’s roommate. Is a problem.

He doesn’t get an answer to the roommate problem until the next morning, when Lan Xichen texts him telling him that the apartment he’d suggested (and helped pay rent for) to Lan Wangji said in the small text that it’d be two people per apartment, the second bedroom wasn’t actually a guest bedroom, sorry, Wangji, you can move in with me if you want, I have space —

No. Thank you for your kind offer, Brother, but I will be quite fine, Lan Wangji texts back.

19. ** some impulse of delight by handclaps - ~20,000 words, explicit - College AU where Wei Ying decides he needs to help Lan Zhan get used to touching people. Lan Zhan agrees. Wei Ying is dumb and in love. Lan Zhan is less dumb, but still as in love.

Lan Zhan shakes his head and fumbles, tries to push the cotton wool into Wei Wuxian’s hand.

“Sorry,” Wei Wuxian says, realising. “Touching people, I know.”

He feels dumb. He thought he’d worn Lan Zhan down more than this, that they were friends now and that his whole no touching thing was mostly overcome. He took Wei Wuxian’s hand easily, right? He looks down at his belly full of scratches, dabbing at them moodily.

“Sorry,” he says, again.

Lan Zhan makes some kind of noise, but he is busy packing the first aid kit back, placing everything exactly where it was before.

“Lan Zhan, you’re going to have to do something about this,” Wei Wuxian complains. “I know you don’t like touching people and usually it plays as a kind of gentlemanly thing, but what about emergencies?”

20. And I Will Call You Home by Spodumene - ~43,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian returns after a year of traveling and rejoins Lan Zhan in the Cloud Recesses. He's doing a good job of pining and ignoring the obvious. Look, at this point, it shouldn't be a surprise that I'm a sucker for stories where Wei Wuxian deals with his ~*~issues~*~ and Lan Zhan takes care of him, whether he asks for it or not. This story has lots of that. I also enjoyed the case fic aspect of it.

“I do, I think,” Wei Wuxian admits. “Would be nice to see his face again after so long. And at least this time, I’m going to show up draped in finery. What do you think, Lan Zhan? I can’t possibly disgrace him—or you—wearing a cloak like that.”

“You could never disgrace me,” Lan Wangji says gently, that soft, affectionate look back on his face.

Wei Wuxian grins, warmed to the tips of his toes.

“I’ll remind you of that later. The next time I’m three jars deep and feeling especially shameless, you’ll have to remember those words, Lan Er-gege.”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji says simply.

Wei Wuxian smiles some more, overwhelmed by fondness.

21. darling, am i a chore? by martyrsdaughter - ~7,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian really, really wants Lan Zhan to call him 'gege'. Lan Zhan knows a trump card when he sees one.

“You know what I want,” Wei Wuxian purrs, reaching up on his tiptoes to throw his arms over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Call me gege, won’t you? Call me and I’ll stop.”

Lan Wangji knows he will not stop, regardless of what he calls him. Still, he thinks about it. If there really is a way to make Wei Wuxian stop, should he not consider it? He doesn’t have any real interest in curbing his husband’s insatiable mischievousness, but he does like knowing things about him—everything there is to know.

If there’s something that persuasive in the world, that it can bring Wei Wuxian into submission when no one is under threat, could he stop himself from seeking it?

22. your name, safe in their mouth by astrolesbian - ~11,000 words, gen - Wei Wuxian & Lan Sizhui fic with the Wangxian in the background. Lan Sizhui wants another dad and Wei Wuxian wants a son, they just don't know how to explain that to each other.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

Lan Sizhui tucks his chin into his uncle’s shoulder, and lets his eyes fall closed.

“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it?” Wen Ning whispers to him kindly.

Lan Sizhui takes a deep breath, and takes stock of all his aches, his ringing ear, his hollow chest, the way he had selfishly wanted Wei Wuxian to keep speaking to him in that careful voice, like he was just a child to be soothed and there was no real danger. How dangerous, to pretend. “No,” he lies. “It doesn’t hurt that much at all.”

23. when you're doing all the leaving (then it's never your love lost) by tardigradeschool - ~26,000 words, teen - AU where Lan Zhan with Wei Wuxian to Jin Ling's one-month celebration. Things go down, and it leads to Lan Zhan discovering Wei Wuxian's missing golden core. This obviously will not do, and oh look, the best doctor in the world just happens to be right here.

“How—“ Lan Wangji chokes. “His core —?” He looks at Wen Ning, half accusatory in his shock. “Jin Zixun could not have—“

“No, no!” Wen Ning says, holding out his hands. “He hasn’t had one for years, don’t worry!”

This is not as reassuring as Wen Ning seems to think.

“Please explain,” Lan Wangji says, pained. He feels for Wei Wuxian’s pulse instead; in the absence of a golden core, it will have to do as reassurance that he’s still alive.

Wen Ning is so anxious that the story comes out in a ramble, out of order. Lan Wangji wants him to hurry up, but he’s also not confident in his own ability to speak, so he just keeps quiet and lets him talk. His heart feels as if it’s about to fall from his chest, beating nearly twice as fast as Wei Wuxian’s does under his fingers.

24. A Match in the Making by lareine - ~30,000 words, teen - A Modern AU where Wei Wuxian sees his single and bad ass friend Lan Zhan and his single and bad ass friend Mianmian and gets some very dumb ideas.

To return to the point: Lan Zhan was peak adulting. Mianmian was peak adulting. And if they were both at the peak, then they were on the same level. What level? That mysterious level thing that everyone mentioned when it came to dating.

Whatever level it was, Lan Zhan and Mianmian were on it together. Wei Ying nodded to himself. So, Lan Zhan and Mianmian were allowed to date each other. The next question was: were they compatible? Did they have chemistry or whatever the fuck people called it?

25. Crack me open, pour you out by Tenillypo - ~16,000 words, explicit - Lan Zhan gets cursed to say whatever he's thinking. So his worst nightmare. Mutual pining, first time, all good stuff.

Lan Wangji freezes with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, lifting his eyes to stare at Wei Ying.

"I know! Just completely paralyzed." Wei Ying mimes being still as a board. "I don't know how long I lay there. It must have been two days at least. Good thing for Little Apple. He wandered back to the village when he got hungry, and eventually a few of them got brave enough to come look for me. When they rolled me over, the figure fell out of my hand and I could move again. Cunning little thing." He shakes his head. "I was weak as a kitten for a little while after they took me back to the village, and by the time I recovered, they'd burned the whole place to the ground. Such a waste."

Lan Wangji slowly lowers his chopsticks, heart racing unpleasantly. In his head, a picture of Wei Ying slowly wasting to death alone in the middle of the woods, with Lan Wangji a hundred miles away and none the wiser.

26. Crazy, Rich Cultivators by ShanaStoryteller - 13,000 words, no rating - Lan Zhan wants to bring his boyfriend home to meet his family. There are some things he definitely didn't realize about Wei Ying.

“He has a life here,” he says down the line. He doesn’t say that he has a life here too, one he likes a lot more than the one he had before. He misses home. He’d miss Wei Ying more. But he doesn’t say that, doesn’t say how vibrant he is and how beautiful and how little interest Lan Zhan has at seeing him among the high society he grew up with.

“Well, your life is here, Wangji,” his brother says. “You can’t stay away from home forever. You’re going to have to see how he does with the rest of us sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.”

It might as well be never, as far as he’s concerned. His family can meet Wei Ying at their wedding.

“I’ll ask,” he says.

Wei Ying has no interest in cultivation politics. They’re horrible, the five clans have an iron tight alliance that’s thirty seconds away from collapsing in on itself the moment someone from one sect steps on another sect’s toes. It’s the worst and he hates it. Surely even just the idea of it will be so horrifying to Wei Ying that Lan Zhan will be able to tell his brother no.

27. just our hands clasped so tight by electrum ~4,000 words, teen - Lan Zhan really, really, really just wants to give Wei Ying everything he wants.

“Despite your best efforts,” Wei Wuxian agrees. He shakes his head in mock-dismay. “How much longer do you think that will last if you keep buying everything I look at?” When this, too, fails to soften Lan Zhan’s resolve, he tries a different tactic. “We couldn’t even afford potatoes,” he says. “Back when I was with the Wens, at the Burial Mounds. Only radishes! If I survived that, I can certainly survive without another pretty comb.”

Lan Zhan’s expression is at once unmoved and yet somehow stricken. “I would have bought Wei Ying potatoes,” he says, like Wei Wuxian doesn’t know, by this point, that Lan Zhan would buy him anything. “If I had known…”

28. ** Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller - ~64,000 words, no rating - Jin Ling & Wei Wuxian with Wangxian in the background. Jin Ling is the best boy! And as he tries to rehabilitate his sect and his family and keep himself alive at the same time, he realizes, horrifyingly, that he has to be the mature one.

29. ** an act too often neglected by Ariaste - Lan Xichen / Meng Yao, ~61,000 words, explicit - The Wangxian is in the background here, but the main story is about Lan Xichen meeting Meng Yao on a dating app and getting immediately dickmatized. Meanwhile. Meng Yao refuses to be won over by Lan Xichen's charm. It goes as well as you'd expect for him.

The caption below is equally sparse: “5’6. Demanding.”

Lan Xichen feels a low simmer of arousal kindle in the pit of his stomach, and he gazes at that word-- demanding --for nearly as long as he’d stared at the photograph. He swipes right.

A few minutes later, a notification pops up: < Hm, the size of your hands is promising.

This is familiar. This is the flirtation stage. Lan Xichen knows the steps to the dance.

30. My Land Beneath Me by longleggedgit - ~30,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Wei Wuxian is cast out of his sect and out of China to America. And Lan Zhan just...follows.

Lan Zhan always waited for his tea to cool before drinking, which meant he had nothing to do but give Wei Wuxian a judgmental look. “No more McDonald’s.”

“You’re just bitter because you get indigestion from anything that actually tastes good,” Wei Wuxian grumbled.

Because Lan Zhan was insufferably mature and patient, he didn’t rise to the bait. “We have time to stop somewhere before class,” he said.

“Fine. But you’re paying this time.”

It was a bad joke, and predictably, fell flat; Lan Zhan was, after all, paying for everything, every time. Wei Wuxian frowned into his mug.

“You know,” he said, after another swallow, “you really don’t have to be here. I’m going to figure something out.”

*

Interested in 86 more The Untamed fic recs?

Part 1 - 40 recs Part 2 - 23 recs Part 3 - 23 recs

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part Five

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: This is almost purely fluff. There’s some angst in there, but it’s just, like...A speck. And it’s covered over by fluff. Also I’ve never been to Austin, I did a lot of Googling for this bit, so if any of it is inaccurate, I’m sorry!! It seems like such a cool town and I don’t wanna do it a disservice! Lastly, I linked the museum and the art pieces mentioned in the chapter at the end of the chapter, under the tags. Summary: You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for.

While you and Marcus would be helping Marnie and the family out with wedding prep during the week, they didn’t have anything in particular scheduled for that day. After he’d had his breakfast, Marcus had showered, gotten dressed, and left to get the car that he’d rented for two of you to use that week. You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for. “I wanna show you around while we’ve got some time,” Marcus had told you between stealing sips of your coffee (which were solely permitted because the two of you were pretending to be together - if this had been under any other circumstance, he would not have gotten away with a single sip. His parents had found it adorable. You had found it a loss of coffee).

You dressed in casual clothing, things that you knew you’d have no trouble walking around in for the day. Marcus honked twice once he was outside in the rental, and you bid quick goodbyes to his family. 

-- “So,” Marcus glanced over at you from behind the dark lenses of his aviator sunglasses, “We have a few options-- well, we’ve got a ton, but, I was thinking we could take a tour of the Capitol building, and check out the Harry Ransom Center -- it’s this massive archive and library. There are a few places we could hit for lunch, and then… I don’t know, the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center? And I thought we could finish with the Blanton Museum of Art?... Or is that, like, a no, since we’re both kinda around art all the time?” You watched him for a few moments, stunned. He’d clearly gone out of his way to think about what you’d like to do -- places that he knew and that you would like. He wanted you to have fun, and time out of the house - away from his family. Marcus was taking you out and about like… Like he probably would a real girlfriend. “That all sounds really awesome,” You admitted softly. Marcus grinned at you, and you settled back in your seat, facing forward again. -- Conversation came as easily as it had when you were in D.C. Marcus dropped the odd fact about Austin now and again (though it was nothing near his panicked post-flight info-dump), pointed out his old haunts, told you about his and Marnie’s childhoods. Even without his family around, you found that the two of you kept close. You reached for one another’s hands; Marcus drew you into his side when you were in crowded places; even when there was plenty of room, Marcus’ hand was on your shoulder, or your back. The contact was comforting; it didn’t feel forced.  You found yourselves strolling through the Blanton with your fingers intertwined, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the patrons around you. It was where the two of you wound up spending most of your day, discussing Fogel’s Conflict and Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi and Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt. When you drifted into the Klimt pieces on loan from the Belvedere Museum in Vienna, and the two of you stopped in front of The Kiss, Marcus cupped your chin and leaned down, pecking the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the stupid grin that took over your face, and you leaned into him, turning your head and hiding your face in his shoulder. 

He just curled an arm around you, smoothing a thumb along your side as you let your sheepishness run its course. You turned your head as it ebbed away, finally, taking in the intertwined lovers, robed in gold and adorned with flowers. 

--

“Okay, this… Is stupidly cool,” You admitted, looking around. “I was a little worried that you were going to stop at ‘stupid’.” “No!” You laughed, “I’ve never been anywhere like this.” Marcus had brought you to a bar with an arcade in Southern Congress for dinner. The two of you had ordered dinner and were looking for a few games to play before the food arrived. “They’ve got a little bit of everything. Pinball, Pac-man, Tron, Skeeball,” Marcus listed off. “Galaga?” “They’ve got Galaga.” “Perfect.” Marcus was exceptional at Pac-man and pinball, but you learned that you had the upper hand when it came to air hockey. You managed to play two games of it (both of which you won) before the food came. “Today has all been insanely awesome,” You told him after you’d polished off your pizza, “Thank you. I mean-- Seriously, you didn’t have to do this.” “I didn’t want you feeling like we were stuck at my family’s place all week, and...I mean I know we’re down here for Marnie, but you said you’d never been to Austin. I didn’t want you to miss out on seeing the city.” You and Marcus shared a smile before he added, “The whole day has been insanely awesome, huh?” “Yeah.” “Even in the kitchen?” “You mean when you were drinking my coffee? ‘Cause that put you on thin ice, mister.” “Right before that,” He corrected. The smile he was giving you was two parts bashfulness and one part coy. You folded one arm on the table, pillowing your chin on your other hand. “...Yeah, I’d include that. As first kisses go, it was…” You nodded a little, eyeing Marcus from under your lashes, “It was very...Very nice.” “‘Very nice’?” Marcus repeated, “I guess that’s not the worst review I’ve ever gotten.” “Don’t get all huffy,” You chuckled, ”I mean it, it was… I forgot what being kissed like that even felt like.” “What do you mean?” “I mean that...Was my first kiss in two years.” “Two-- How is that possible?” Marcus’ brow furrowed. You rolled your eyes a little bit, glancing away from Marcus as embarrassment swirled in your stomach. “The last person was my ex-fiancé. After that fell apart…” You shrugged, “I haven’t dated since.” You felt Marcus lean a little closer to get a better look at you. “Did you give up on finding someone?” “Not on purpose. I think I just...Built up some walls that I had torn down really quickly with them. And I built those walls up double. I prioritized work-- the devil I knew, you know.” “No dates, nothing?” “Nope.” “How many people did you turn down?” “What makes you think I turned anyone down?” Marcus tipped his head to the side, giving you a slight once-over as he muttered, “C’mon.” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “Well, how long after your engagement broke did you wait to date?” You asked. Marcus’ lips pressed into a thin, contemplative line before he admitted, “Five months.” “What made you get back out there? I mean… How’d you know you were ready?” “I wasn’t, but I was worried that if I waited until I was, the woman that had asked me out wouldn’t be available when I got there. I took a leap. It wasn’t a good leap, but it was a leap,” he chuckled, “And it made me remember that dating can suck and putting myself out there could be scary, but… Ultimately, it’s worth it.” You and Marcus regarded one another quietly for a moment. You couldn't even imagine what he was thinking. You couldn't understand how he was still so open to finding love when he'd been hurt the way he had. That sort of loss had only made you want to recede; it seemed to make Marcus even more determined to find love. Frankly, it was a wonder that he hadn't yet— he was the kindest man you'd ever met. You lowered your eyes to your empty plate as you realized that you were staring. It was easy to get caught up in his warm eyes; you’d found it happening more often lately, and it certainly suited the purposes of the lie you were playing up around his family. But there was something about all of it— his gaze, his smile, everything that the two of you had done today — it stirred up twinges or remorse. Lately you’d found yourself wondering if there ever could’ve been something real between the two of you, if you’d met under different circumstances. That was a very dangerous line of thought.

“If you’re finished with your food, we can go play some more air hockey.” You smiled at the offer, glancing back up at him as you asked, “I didn’t kick your ass enough the first time?” “Oh-- I was just warming up.” “Clocking all of my moves?” “Exactly.” “We’ll see about that.” (You beat him three more times.) (You let him win once.)

--

You flicked off the light before getting into bed, tucking yourself in beside Marcus. He yawned and mumbled, “G’night.” “Goodnight, what?” Marcus let out an exaggerated sigh, “Goodnight, supreme air hockey winner.” “Thank you.” “Mhm.” “I don’t ask for much.” “I know.” “Just that you steer clear of my coffee—” “Uh huh.” “And address me by my proper title.” You glanced over as you felt Marcus shift in the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as his arm wound around your middle, his hand dangling against your side as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. “Sleep,” He urged in a mumble, “Oh supreme one.” You settled down, resting one of your hands atop Marcus’ arm. It was a warm, comforting weight; a sweet touch that you could, if you weren’t careful, find yourself getting used to. “‘Oh supreme one’,” You repeated quietly, peering up at the ceiling, “I could get used to that.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​ ; @spideysimpossiblegirl​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @elen-aranel​ ; @yespolkadotkitty​ ; @artsymaddie​ ; @phoenixhalliwell​ ; @lunaserenade​ ; @winniedaboo​  ; @empress-palpat1ne​ ; @randomness501​ ; @nutmeg-20​ ; @leonieb​ ; @the-feckless-wonder​ ; @lou-la-lou​ ; @captain-jebi​ ; @supernaturalgirl​ ; @naturenebula21​ ; @evelynseventyr​ ; @giselatropicana​ ; @heatherbel​ ; @marydjarin​ ; @annathewitch​ ; @absurdthirst​​ ; @hnt-escape​ ; @writingletterstothefire​​ ; @misswriter​​ ; @bison-writes​​

Museums & Art Work

The Blanton Museum of Art

Fogel’s Conflict

Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi

 Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt The Belvedere Museum

Klimt’s The Kiss

[pepperdee]

Flash Fiction Friday but I went over the word limit and couldn't shorten it

and thus I'm not going to tag them. but I still want to post it to prove I'm alive.

(now do you see why I had to do it) (also, is it crazy that i haven't done one of these in literally a year??)

I'm going to reblog this tomorrow with the sequel comic I drew while at work but i forgot my little drawing journal there so it has to wait

WIP: The Curse of Hyetal

POV: Rose

WC: 1612

Summary: After taking Guin home one night, Rose hits a little roadblock.

yes this is the new take on Rose hits Dedrick with her car. no this isn't final.

~~

A wave of raindrops burst on Rose’s windshield, the pitter-patter amplified by Guin’s open door.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” they promised. “We’ll figure this out.”

This, Rose echoed silently, nodding as her best friend shut the car door. The journals, sent to her by Beza days after she died. That creepy poem left in the middle of that empty journal. They found me before the storm, Rose recited, staring at the raindrops. She had to chuckle just a little bit. Obviously, the poem was about the hurricane, but she entertained the thought that the poem was the journal’s own.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

It was nearly midnight, but Rose’s eyes landed on Guin’s neighbor, her grandmother’s bakery, and wondered how tired and pissed off Lee would be if she showed up just now. Lee may be an old baker, but she knows things. Mostly about Taeleon, mostly about Garvin Street, but who knows what kind of wisdom inhaling flour all day gives you?

No, no, Rose told herself. She’s going to be up at five. Let her sleep. She took her car out of park and gently pressed the gas.

A flash of light came from Lee’s door. A streak of red.

Thump.

Rose slammed on the brakes. Blood pounded in her ears. Knuckles locked onto the steering wheel. Raindrops bursting. She darted her gaze from the door to the street. “What the…hell?” she said to herself, cautiously putting her car in park. She imagined that a firework just flew underneath her tires, and any moment, it was going to explode and take her and her car with it. Before I even got my activation immunity.

Suddenly, the streak of red was standing. Already drenched from head-to-toe, white shirt streaked with dirt. Rose climbed out of the car in a panic, cringing from the cold of the rain, before she could even register who she had hit. “Are you okay?” she asked, grabbing his arm on instinct.

He ripped his arm from her grip and stumbled back, toward the bakery. His silver eyes—eye, actually—reflected the light from her headlights, setting them ablaze with fear. Rose realized with a jolt: I just hit Dedrick Warflash with my car.

“I—I am so, so sorry,” she apologized rapidly.

He whipped his head around and tripped backwards on the curb. He fell on his ass, scrambling to his feet, muttering, “No, no, no, off, off, off, off the ground, off the ground, out of reach, out of reach—”

Rose had no idea what she was thinking. Perhaps she wasn’t. But she followed him, a word-vomit of apologies spilling from her lips. “I’m sorry! I didn’t see you! I didn’t want to hurt you! Let me help, I can—” Dedrick ran headfirst into the corner of the brick building and hit the ground again. Rose cringed, but he stopped moving so erratically. He squeezed his eye shut for a moment, panting. “—help you,” Rose finally finished.

Dedrick jumped and sat up. He winced, pressing his hand to his head. It was hard to tell with the rain and the limited lighting, but Rose was pretty sure there was blood on his face now. “Rose?” he said, as if he just noticed her.

Rose approached him slowly. “Um…please don’t tell my mom about this,” she said, outstretching a hand.

Dedrick didn’t take it. He tilted his head back, frowning. “About…what?”

“Me, hitting you with my car.”

“You did what?”

Now, Rose was confused. “It was…it was ten seconds ago,” she said, gesturing to her car. Dedrick glanced from her, to the car, to the bakery, as if he had to piece together the last five minutes. Oh, Cadote, he has a concussion. Luckily, that was the one thing Rose knew to look out for. “This is my grandma’s place. Let me help you.”

Dedrick’s shaking hand finally grasped hers. She had to pull him to his feet, and he swayed a little. She kept a hold of his hand, leading him to the door. Surprisingly, she didn’t have to look for the key. Lee’s door was already, slightly, ajar. That was weird, but right now, everything felt weird.

The air-conditioned air of Lee’s apartment chilled Rose, and she decided to contribute both of their shaking to that. She started up the stairs, toting Dedrick along, but then her arm extended. Dedrick was a couple steps lower, slowly raising his feet along the dim stairway, focusing hard. For a moment, Rose thought, maybe, he was bleeding into his brain. No, he’s like this at school, too. Finally, it clicked. Stairs. Depth perception. He has one eye.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned on the flashlight, shining it at his feet. He flinched at the sudden light. He didn’t say thank you, but his steps came faster, until they were finally on even ground.

Rose grabbed a roll of paper towels from the kitchen and brought him to the bathroom. The fan hummed. Dedrick sat on the toilet. He had a small gash on his forehead, and another weeping cut on his nose. The skin around them was already darkening with a bruise. Rose rummaged through the cabinets for hydrogen peroxide and bandages.

Rose folded a paper towel into fourths and soaked it in peroxide. “So, um…what were you doing out this late?” she asked him. He didn’t answer. Typical, she thought. He seemed like the guy who wouldn’t even admit what his favorite color was. He seems like the kind of guy to have a fight in the school hallways over a hat.

However, those thoughts went away when she turned to clean the cut on his forehead. Dedrick was staring at his trembling hand, streaked with his own blood. He had a faraway look in his eye, like he did downstairs.

Rose set the antiseptic towel down and replaced it with a regular wet paper towel. She wiped his hand off, revealing callouses and small scars. So many scars.

Dedrick blinked, shaking his head a little. “Did—did you say something?”

“It’s not important.”

“Oh.” Rose grabbed the antiseptic towel, and his eye was now following her. “What’s that?”

“It’s got hydrogen peroxide,” she said. He narrowed his eye a bit, suspicious. He doesn’t know what that is? “It’ll keep you from getting an infection,” she explained, lifting it to his forehead. “It’s gonna sting a little, so…don’t hurt me.”

His eye twitched, but otherwise, he remained still while she cleaned him up. “What were you doing here?” he asked.

“Taking Guin home.” He hummed in slight contempt. A bit of anger coiled in Rose’s chest, but she forced it down. He was a private person, and Guin enjoyed being a confidante. “They can be a lot, but…they’re a great friend,” she said.

“I’ve heard.”

Rose’s hands were still shaking when as she dabbed at his nose. This is too close, she thought, but she wanted to see if it was still bleeding. His silver eye stared right into her, like he was trying to read her. She noticed with a brief glance that he had his fists in his pockets.

And yet, she still found herself asking, “What does ‘off the ground, out of reach’ mean?”

It startled her as much as it did him, if his expression was anything to indicate. “What?”

“Never mind,” Rose said hurriedly, tossing the bloody towels into the trash. She fumbled for the box of bandages, digging for ones long enough to cover his wounds.

“It happened again, didn’t it?” he asked. Rose shrugged. “Like earlier today? The fight?” Rose paused, two bandages pinched in her fingers. “I saw Fred and Ben shoving Eric around, and it was like…it was like when…” He flinched, pressing his fingers to his head. “I barely even…I knew the fight happened, but I didn’t remember being in it.”

It suddenly clicked into place. Rose put the bandage on his forehead extra gently. “You…were probably triggered.”

He blinked at her. “What?”

“Something made you remember a traumatizing event,” she explained. “Like…like for me, Harmony’s voice, some of her mannerisms…I just remember how I felt the day she tried to destroy my friendship with Guin.” Rose avoided his stare, trying to clean up.

A jolt went up her spine when the walls shook. Lee was awake.

Her grandmother pushed the bathroom door open, staring wide and cautiously. “I can explain,” Rose began as Lee’s eyes flicked down to Dedrick.

“Go to bed, Dedrick,” Lee said softly, nodding toward the spare room.

Rose felt rooted to the spot, even as Dedrick brushed past her. Did Lee just tell him to go to bed? Like he… “Does he live with you?” Rose found herself asking once he was out of sight.

Lee grimaced, crossing her arms. She cast a worried glance in his direction. “For about a month now, yes. After his parents’ accident.”

It didn’t make any sense, until it did. Until she remembered the passing thought she had about the razor in Lee’s medicine cabinet, little red hairs sticking out from the blades like thorns. She remembered seeing his big blue backpack sitting next to the recliner in the living room. The open front door, the fact that he ran from that direction…

“Um…well, I…I hit him with my car. Only barely, but—but he kinda ran into a wall, and fell a lot.”

The corner of Lee’s mouth twitched. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” she promised. “And…don’t mention this to your father. I have yet to tell him.”

Trust me, Rose thought, exiting the bathroom. He’s not going to know about any of this.

[sequel comic coming soon]