#but look at this mature boi realising what he was saying was perhaps a little too mean

[davidtennan-t]

the way the Doctor stopped himself when he got angry with Donna, walked away, put his hands up looking guilty af and apologised? Lives rent free in my head

[venerawrites]

Can I request Naruto with a single mama? Her little 1 yr old is a little unsure at first but comes to ADORE Naruto. Please and thank you!

Author's note: I am finishing my written assignments for uni this and next week, so I'm being extra slow with the requests, for which I am sorry :( Anyway, this request was super cute and I loved writing it! Hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting!

Becoming a war hero almost overnight sounds like a dream come true for every shinobi. All the years of pain, sweat and blood finally being recognised and appreciated by the people was something that rarely happened through history, and even when it did, most of the time it didn't last long.

But Naruto was no ordinary war hero - he was once the most hated person in Konoha, who despite everything remained loyal to his village and his friends. Filled with hope and ambition for the future, he proved himself as an excellent shinobi and most importantly, a good potential leader. So when Kakashi gave up his position as the Hokage, there was no question about who should be his successor.

Everything in his life fell into place pretty quickly after that - he bought a house, he started volunteering at the academy and the hospital during weekends, and also became the best man to Shikamaru and Temari's wedding. The boy that was once called a "freak" was now the "man of progress" - a symbol of prosperity and inspiration to many children across the Land of Fire. Tales and songs were already written in his name, and to him, it still felt unreal.

With fame came also attention. In the beginning, he loved it. Having women competing for his affection was fun and also very new for him - never has anyone asked him out on a date or given him gifts before. It did stroke his ego and for the first months after he became a Hokage, he entertained such advances. After all he was a single man, so why not? Perhaps one of these women would one day turn out to be the one.

Days became months, months became years and soon he found that almost all of his friends were either married or engaged. So far it never bothered him, but after Sakura and Sasuke came back carrying a child in their arms, he started to seriously think about what he wanted.

Years ago, if anyone has asked him what he seeks in a partner, his answer would've easily been his teammate. But since then a lot has changed, including him. He was more mature and level-headed now, and looking back, he realised what he felt toward the pink-haired kunoichi was not real love, but rather a childish crush. She was his best friend and he had deep respect for her, but even he realised how incompatible their personalities were and how his teenage self had an unrealistic idea of who she actually is.

Naruto was the definition of fire. He often acted based on his emotions and while he was better at self-control than he was before, there were still moments when he slipped up and let his inner thoughts take over his rationality. The last thing he needed was someone who had the same burning soul. Quite the opposite - he yearned for calmness. His heart needed to be both loved and protected by someone who can balance him.

This realisation felt heavier with each day. To have someone by his side soon became a mirage - no matter how often he attempted to give a chance to someone, the spark was just never there. All these women looked differently and talked differently, but ultimately they all gave him the same feeling - emptiness.

"Everything comes with time", Kakashi said to him, when he noticed him sitting by himself at Ino and Sai's wedding. The blonde man just smiled, weakly nodding at his sensei, not having the energy to oppose him. At this point, he wanted nothing more than to just finish his drink and head home to rest for the early morning meeting he had the next day.

Like almost everything in his life, however, this didn't go to plan. He was just about to stand up from his place, when his eyes locked with yours across the room. "She is definitely not from here", he thought, as you directed a small smile at him, lifting your glass in the air, before returning your attention to Ino, who was eagerly explaining her honeymoon plans to you. Naruto assumed you were not a shinobi as well, as he was sure he would've remembered you if he had encountered you in the past.

Before he can think about what he was doing, he was already walking toward the table where you and the bride were sitting. Pulling the chair next to Ino and opposite you, he slumped on it, his eyes dancing between you two.

"Can I join you, ladies?", he asked, despite the fact he already had. You both nodded and he grinned in response, before turning toward Ino and laying his hand on her shoulder:

"Congratulations on your marriage, Ino! Sai is a lucky guy!"

"You bet he is!", she laughed, nudging you with her elbow. Expecting such a response from her, you only rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a small smile. There was no room for disagreement, however - while Ino had quite a personality, she was one of the most kind and sincere people you have ever met. No wonder you became friends so quickly after she was sent to a mission in your village and you preserved that friendship despite the distance and all the years that have passed.

"Oh!", the bride suddenly exclaimed, grabbing your hand and almost shoving it into the blonde man’s face, "Naruto, this is Y/N. She has been my friend for... How many? Almost 10 years now! She is originally from the Curtain Village, but has been travelling for a while now."

"The Curtain Village? Isn't that the capital of Land of Silence?"

"It is", you confirmed, shaking his hand once he put it in yours. Noticing the slight furrow of his brows, you were quick to add with a smirk: "I am not a criminal that is here to blow up a wedding, if that is what you are thinking."

Letting out a scoff, Naruto looked a few times between you and Ino, before laughing nervously. He still hadn't let go of you, continuing to shake your arm up and down.

"What? I-you... I didn't-", he stammered, looking over to the bride for help. It was true a very brief thought of suspicion flashed through his mind hearing where you were from, but how can anyone blame him? The Land of Silence was a country of lawlessness, full with criminals and terrorist, all of them sharing the same hatred for Five Great Shinobi.

"Oh, don't listen to her, she is joking!", Ino laughed, before turning toward you and gently slapping you on the shoulder. Her eyes moved to the middle of the table, above which the Hokage was still holding your hand, his whole face flushed bright red. The minute of silence must have caught the man's attention, because soon after he let go of you, moving his fingers behind his body and nervously scratching his neck.

"Not weird at all", your friend muttered, before turning toward you, "Y/N, this is Naruto! A childhood friend, a war hero, the current Hokage... and also a man who does not know how to act like a normal human being in front of a beautiful woman."

He immediately opened his mouth to protest but was stopped the second your laugh reached his ears. This has to be the most melodic and beautiful sound he has ever heard. Too lost admiring it, he didn't pay any attention to Ino, who excused herself, giving you both a knowing look. He noticed only a few minutes later your shared friend is missing and he mentally cursed himself of how he was behaving. His teenage years were long gone, why couldn't he compose himself like the grown man he is?

"So, Hokage...", the title sounded almost seductive from your lips, "What was a man of such importance doing by himself at the bar? One would think you would be the centre of attention tonight. After the bride and groom, of course."

The tone of your voice combined with the sparkle in your eyes was enough for him to be able to barely keep focus on what you were actually saying. Squirming in his seat, he nervously laughed, wondering for how long were you watching him before he approached you. He must have looked like a complete fool sitting by himself ordering glass after glass and only occasionally being spoken to by the passing guests. Definitely not the impression he wanted to leave.

"I just... needed some time away from people. I didn't know Ino and Sai had THAT many friends", his words made you laugh and he instantly beamed at the sound, happy he was the one causing it.

"What about you? You here with someone?"

The slight nod of your head made his heart drop to his stomach and the corners of his mouth moved downward into a frown. Was it surprising? You were a beautiful woman after all, of course the chances for you to be taken were high. He sure as hell was disappointed though. A tiny part of him was hoping that you were here by yourself and that maybe, just maybe, he would have the chance to get to know you more.

Seeing the way his whole expression darkened, you bit back a smile, nodding your head to the end of the large room. There, in a corner, one baby boy and two little girls, one of which was Sarada, were enthusiastically smashing plastic toys around, being supervised by smiling Sakura.

"I am accompanied by the fine gentleman over there", you pointed to the boy, before laughing, "But I think he may be too occupied at the moment to even remember I exist."

Naruto followed the direction of which your finger was pointing and he suddenly felt his body relax. Oh. You were talking about that type of company.

"Is that your brother?"

Raising your brow at him, you gave him a small smirk, finding his question cute. There was something about this man that was both extremely sweet, yet attractive - perhaps it was the innocence he radiated, while looking so strong and masculine.

"You are flattering me", your attention moved back to the child, who was now trying to communicate something with Sarada, "This is my son, actually."

"Your son?", his voice came out louder and squeakier than expected and he immediately added, "It's just... you look so young, heh. Not that is a bad thing, you know? You are beautiful! Your son is also beautiful... Not in a creepy way, I mean he looks a lot like you and-"

The words suddenly got stuck in his throat and he loudly gulped, already fearing the disaster he just created. Expecting you to stand up and leave, or maybe even slap him, he was shocked when all you did was to just grab his hand and give it a little squeeze.

"You sure blabber a lot for a Hokage", you joked, before standing up, "Excuse me just for a minute."

Blue eyes followed your body across the room, curiously watching how you picked up the small boy in your arms and placed it on your hips, before making your way back. Now that he was getting closer, Naruto could fully appreciate the striking resemblance the child had with you. You had dressed him in a little blue shirt and black pants, which was complementing your dress with the same colours.

“Wow! He is literally your twin! Dad must be jealous”, he laughed nervously once you were just few feet away. The mention of he word “dad” made your body stiffen and you adjusted your baby’s position, so you can both sit comfortably.

“I doubt that - that man didn't even have the decency to show up for his child's birth, let alone acknowledge his existence .”

The blonde almost chocked on his drink, hitting his chest a few times. Was it bad to feel so good after hearing you say these words? He would never dream of wishing any child to grow up without a father, yet something inside of him felt almost relieved.

"Oh?", his posture relaxed and he raised one eyebrow, "So you are single mother?"

The answer was obvious, but he needed to be 100% sure - the last thing he wanted was to ruin someone's relationship, especially when there is a child involved. The nod of your head and the small smile were the final assurance he needed and without further word, he moved to the seat next to you which was previously occupied by Ino.

The sudden movement startled the baby in your arms and it immediately turned its head to the side, curiously observing the man.

"Hi, little one! My name is Naruto. Oh my, you are very cute!"

Uzumaki was good with kids. Maybe it was because of his friendly appearance or the fact he was full with energy, just like them, but there has not been a single child so far that didn't adore him from the moment they laid their eyes on him. Even Sarada, much to Sasuke's dismay.

The look that your son was giving him, however, was anything but impressed. Staring at him with his big eyes, he didn't even move a muscle, as if he was challenging him to a staring contest.

Can babies even challenge someone? Naruto never thought so, but he could swear the boy's brows furrowed just a bit, enough for him to send a clear message: "I may be cute, but you are not and neither is your attempt to impress my mom."

"He is very shy", you said, bouncing him on your lap. As a result to your constant travels due to your job, he didn't had a lot of interactions with other children or with people in general. Growing up without a father, he was very attached to you and any unknown person was always treated with suspicion.

To you he was just being cautious. To the man to your right, however, he was protective. The look he has given him was not one of a timid child, quite the opposite - he may be small, but he loved his mama and was not about to let a random man come and sweep her off her feet. Even if he was the Hokage himself.

"Well, I would love to get to know him", the man smiled, before lifting his eyes to yours, "and you, of course! Maybe... I can take you out on a dinner or something?"

"No", the word fell out of your child's mouth, before you can even start replying. Naruto looked at him, noticing the small pout that was now formed on his chubby face. Biting his lip, the Uzumaki tried his best to contain his laugh and remain serious. Not that he didn't respect the little man and how he tried to protect you, but he was so small and cute, it was hard to take him seriously.

"Hey, that is not nice!", you said to your son, giving him a look. He, however, didn't even acknowledge you, his whole attention trained on the man next to you.

"I am sorry, he just learned the word "no", and now he keep saying it at the most random times."

The blonde nodded with a smile, knowing that this was definitely NOT a random time.

"But to answer your question, WE would love to go on a dinner with you!", you adjusted the baby in your arms and the shift finally made him look at you. With a smile, you pressed a kiss to his temple, before looking back at the Hokage: "I am staying with Ino for the next three weeks. Pick us up tomorrow at 8?"

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The next day Naruto was half an hour early to the arranged time. Too scared to knock on the door and look way too eager to see you, he decided to wait outside, almost giving Ino a heart attack once she opened the door and nearly bumped her head in his chest.

"Naruto, what the hell are you doing just standing in front of my door?"

"Uh... Waiting?", he scratched the back of his head nervously, wishing there was a hole in the ground that can swallow him whole. It was not like this was his first date ever, why was he nervous about?

Deep inside he knew the answer - it was not you who was making him anxious, but your son. The way their first interaction went woke something competitive in him and now he was determined to prove himself as a man, good enough to be a partner and a father.

Being the village's hero he hasn’t faced a challenge like this for a while, so while he thought a bit of smooth talking and play time with your child were enough to win your son over, it seemed to make the situation even worse. The child refused to play with him and instead was clinging to you the whole time, giving Naruto such a look, which could only be described as a glare.

"He is not usually like this", you said at the end of your date, when you were both saying your 'goodbyes' in front of Ino's house, "I am really sorry if it made you uncomfortable or-"

Before you can finish, big calloused fingers pressed themselves to your lips, silencing you. You were glad that your son was now asleep, as he saw the gesture, he would surely cry, just like he did every time Naruto tried to grab your hand or touch you in any way during dinner.

"Hey, I think it is completely normal", the blonde let out a short breathy laugh, moving his eyes between the child and your face, "He just want to protect his mother. If I was him, I would be the same..."

Looking down, you carefully considered his words. You avoided dating after your ex left you once he found you are pregnant, so you never had the chance to observe your baby boy around men. But looking at his behaviour now, the Hokage's words made sense.

Thankfully for you, the Uzumaki was not a man who gave up easily. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he invited you both to go and visit him the next day in the Hokage tower. He promised to give you a tour around and grab a lunch with you during his break.

For the three weeks you were in Konoha, you spend every single day with Naruto. He started going to work extra early, just so he can leave on time to pick you up and show you another one of his favourite spots around Konoha. For everyone around you, it was obvious you were absolutely whipped for one another and all this extra effort from his side seemed almost unnecessary in their eyes. For him, however, it was more than necessary, especially since your shared future was depending on it.

As a teacher, you built your job around travelling - you loved sharing your knowledge with the world, as well gaining new one from each place you visited. Such life was busy and demanding, especially for a single parent, but the pros outweighed the cons significantly.

Naruto refused to directly ask you to move to Konoha permanently, but his intentions were pretty clear - he never missed a chance to point out how good the Academy is, how there is a higher education institution being build right now and how gifted the kids in the village were. In the beginning, you didn't give any indication you were even considering staying, but after a while you started to show your interest in your own way - mainly by asking questions about the job market, the teachers in the Academy and in general the life in Konoha.

His relationship with your son also improved drastically. At first, the child stopped "glaring" at him and actually trusted him to come near you. Then, a few days later, he agreed for the first time to play ball with him and at the end of your walk in the park, he even fell asleep in Naruto's arms. By the time you had to leave, your son was so attached to the blonde, he refused to let go of his neck and go in your arms.

"We need to go, darling", you muttered tiredly, trying to detach him from the Hokage.

"No", he cried even louder, "Mama - bye!"

Letting out a loud laugh, Naruto adjusted the little boy in his arms, so he frees one hand and takes yours in it.

"Maybe mama would consider staying", he said, his grin transforming into a soft smile. Squeezing your fingers between his, he tugged you toward him, wrapping his free hand around your waist.

"I won't force you to stay if you do not want to... but I really, really wish you would consider it! I know we have been knowing each other for weeks, but damn, I am in love with you! And I love this little guy here", he looked over the child in his arms, that was now snuggling in his chest, giving you the biggest puppy eyes, "He does feel like my son. And if you leave... I may have to follow you till you agree to come back. And believe it, I do have some experience with making people come back!"

Letting out a giggle, you raise your brow at his words, the bag on your shoulder already falling down.

"Yeah? You would travel around the whole world just to bring us back to you?"

Closing the distance, he leaned his head to the side, so he can lay a small kiss on your lips. He pressed his forehead to yours, letting out a breath of relief once he heard your bag falling to the floor.

"I will travel to the end of the universe, if it means you will be with me."

cc artowork: Jayison Devadas

[1-800-local-slut]

Practice

Notes: I don’t care what anyone says, werewolves have a mating season or something. I was on 2014 Wattpad when mating season fanfics were a thing, just let me have this.

Scott McCall needs to practice some self-control.

Kinktober Masterlist

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Scott McCall, is a beast. You can’t convince me otherwise, he literally is. He’s a animal on the field, when it comes down to it he got so good by practicing. Hours and hours of painstaking practice hindered by his asthma but now he was undoubtedly great. With his enhanced physicality plus the gift all that practice got him captain of the lacrosse team. Practice was discipline, which Scott tries to instill in himself along with him pack members. 

Discipline and practice led Scott to be a diplomat who always tried to see the best in others and try to find the best way to lead his friends and anyone else he promised to protect to the best path possible. He practiced anything he needed to excel in. He practiced controlling his urges as a werewolf. Practice in making the hard choices he has to make as a leader, practice in balancing his life. Yes, practice was the defining factor in Scott’s life. 

So when Scott met you and knew that he wanted, no, needed to be with you for the rest of his days he practiced. He knew what that meant. He wanted to be with you no matter what, and one day have a bunch of kids with you (when he ‘jokingly’ said five, you laughed so hard you choked) had to practice being a man. Not a ‘man’ in the sense that he was big and mature. No, he had to practice being the man you needed.

He had to practice adjusting to your culture, your needs, your view on life as a black woman. And once he did, the good times rolled and haven't stopped since then. Lately, with a new Spring though Scott felt as if he needed more practice. Or more discipline. He wasn’t sure which.

Everyday he was horny. Every night he was horny. Every afternoon he was horny. It was like how some people get allergies, Scott was afflicted daily. Instead of swollen eyes he had a swollen dick and nothing was helping. Meditating, tea, trying to focus, having sex with you. Nothing.

Eventually it got to the point when you had to tell him you needed a break. It was constant. Constant creampies, orgasms, hair pulling, kisses, words of affirmation and aggression, and you needed a break. So, you booked yourself a spa treatment to escape Scott’s urge to hammer his hips into yours as hard as possible and left him to himself for the day. All his practice was failing him at the moment. He couldn’t force himself relax, to not open any photos of you and immediately jerk off like it wasn’t 8:15 in the morning. He hadn’t even had breakfast. What happened was, he woke up to you giving him a kiss goodbye. He got a whiff of your perfume as you floated through your bedroom door then once he heard your apartment door close. 

What was his favorite little trick to stop himself from giving into his base urges? A trip down memory lane of course.

More specifically the time you too had sex and he came so hard that you almost got turned into a werewolf on accident. And when he realised he may have been so persistent because he wanted to fuck you because he was amazing filling you and your apartment with kids. With little boys and girls (perhaps three or four) running around. Maybe a boy with his hair and your eyes? A girl who was the perfect combination of the two of you together? Maybe twins, a boy who took after you and a girl who took after him? Either way, Scott fucked you like he was about to make it happen.

He fucked you with such intensity that morning that you were out of commission for the rest of the day. The room was a dark red color from the small special lights you two bought for your bedroom when you first moved, and he didn't know red could make someone look so good. The sweat shimmering on your skin, the creamy ring you left around the base of his dick, while he growled over you. His eyes ran over your skin, admiring the myriads of hickeys he had bitten into your skin.

You were like a work of art that Scott was blessed to admire for the rest of his days. He slammed himself into you that night, while you squealed and shook from the pleasure. Your dark brown beauties rolling back would be concerning to Scott in any other situation but in that moment it was all he wanted. He wanted to see you spazz out and droll over him. He wanted your eyes to roll back, he needed to see you moan with clarity from feeling him cum inside of you. 

When he slipped out, he decided that night he could give you a slight break, and was in your face roughly kissing you. You were perfect, so as he leaned down and closer to you his hand found his dick. He hissed, from the warmth of your hand and feeling his dick stimulated from the gorgeous woman giving him a hand job. You were both breathing heavily while sloppily making out but Scott couldn’t let you do better handy work than him. What type of man would he be? 

Taking two fingers, determined to get you ready to go again, Scott used all the practice he’d gained over the years and his knowledge of how girls worked, pressed two fingers against your wet clit. You were slick, and very hot down there. In truth, he would’ve gone for your tits, warm and soft like two large pillows but he’d had to stop kissing you for that. He settled for rubbing two fingers up and down your pussy, hearing you whimper. Relishing in every shudder of your body, how you whimpered in his ear. 

Two fingers slipped inside of you, and he was fighting back the urge to push you on your back and bite you until you were crying from joy. But Scott has to remember there is such thing as too rough, something he learned after what he refers too as the ‘incident’ and you call ‘the almost trip to the emergency room’ either way he learned that lesson. So with practice he made sure he never hurt you that way again in such an intimate moment. 

You moaned into his kiss, and he remembered to give you a softer kiss. Something just a little bit softer while he passionately thrusted his fingers inside of you. You were giving him a handjob so good he was about to drop to his knees and give you his entire life. After a moment, he slipped back into you, his grip on your hair returning. 

Your mascara was running down your face, while he tried easing back into the thrusts. He didn’t want to immediately overwhelm you. You moaned and that was his sign, to pick up the pace. He was about to cum inside of you and act on that little urge of his. You liked creampies anyways. Thats an understatement, you loved creampies. Now you were staring into his eyes, moaning nonsense to him. 

Telling him you were his, bad move. Now there was no chance for him to have the good sense to pull out of your pussy. Well according to you, his pussy but he wasn’t picky (those words made his head spin). When you moaned out for him to cum in you, what was he supposed to do? ‘Oh no thanks sorry babe!’ he did what any man so lucky to see you this way would do: he doubled down. Holding you in place his eyes flashed down at you and his whole body trembled. His stomach clenched and he sunk his teeth into the crevice of your neck, leaving a dark bruise to form there. 

One more thrust as you creamed all over him, arching your back while you moaned nonsense about how much you adored him and ‘thank yous’ while he rolled his hips into you. He saw it so clearly. He saw you, pregnant and planting a soft kiss onto his forehead while you sat with a toddler next to you. 

Recalling this event was supposed to help Scott trick himself into calming down. Still he couldn’t stop himself. In the past, Scott was able to calm himself by recalling all the past times and telling himself not to be greedy because you two had incredible sex all the time. 

But what the hell? Everyone has lapses in discipline, and some practice never hurt anything. Shrugging out of his pajama pants, he grabbed the led remote close by flicked on those red lights you were under a few nights ago.

[cuffmeinblack]

Hold me like a grudge

Leander Prewett x f!reader

Tags: explicit | smut | Slytherin!reader | blowjobs | fingering | unprotected sex

3.6k words

Summary: As a Slytherin, you can't be seen to be publicly swooning over Leander Prewett, but he's making it really hard not to.

A/n: No the title isn't a Fall Out Boy song SHUTUP. Anyway, I wrote this in an evening after I said I had too many WIPs but I'm an impulsive idiot.

Leander Prewett had rubbed you up the wrong way the moment you met him, the way he’d talked about Sebastian after your first Herbology lesson, making a snide remark about dirty Slytherin tactics. Probably not the best thing to say to a Slytherin. What he lacked in tact, he didn’t appear to make up for anywhere else, quickly becoming someone you disliked and tried to stay away from.

You'd held onto the grudge for a while, though it had subsided with time—perhaps you'd matured, realised that he simply held assumptions that were incorrect and it wasn't necessarily how he felt now, two years later. Or, it was because Leander Prewett was now fucking gorgeous. His jaw had sharpened a little, he'd grown several inches, towering above most of your classmates, but still had that shocking red mane that he shared with his partner in crime, Garreth Weasley.

If there was one red headed, freckled boy you thought you'd be attracted to, you'd have thought it would be Weasley, with his easy smile and twinkling eyes. But no, your eyes were often drawn over and up to Leander, who's full lips looked more and more inviting by the day as you struggled to concentrate and maintain your composure around him. You had a stoic and intimidating Slytherin façade to maintain, and it wouldn't do to be publicly swooning over Prewett.

Easier said than done when you spotted him enter the great hall with Nellie, holding hands and giggling insufferably. Your lip twitched into a snarl, nose wrinkling in disgust at the lovestruck pair, sauntering to their table without a care in the world. When the hell had that happened? You privately chastised yourself for waiting far too long to make any sort of move on him, your stomach twisting into jealous knots. Your reaction wasn't easy to hide, and caught the attention of Sebastian immediately, his head swivelling around to follow your gaze.

"Prewett…and Oggspire? Huh. Disgusting, yes, but why do you care?"

"I wasn't looking at him," you said far too quickly.

"What were you looking at, then?"

"Erm…," you scanned the Gryffindor table looking for a scapegoat. "Weasley."

"Why were you looking at him?"

Sebastian's dark eyes were boring into your skull, making it incredibly hard to come up with a convincing lie. You were usually so good at this, but Leander's entrance with his new girlfriend had you flustered, and Sebastian was taking advantage of it.

"What's going on?" Ominis asked, tearing himself away from his breakfast to join the interrogation.

"Someone's got a crush on a Gryffindor," Sebastian said with a smirk in your direction. "I'm trying to figure out which one it is."

"Oh, Leander," Ominis said matter-of-factly, continuing to sip his tea.

"What?!" 

Your mouth was dangling open at the blond, who obviously couldn't see your flabbergasted reaction, nor hear it over Sebastian's urgent questioning.

"How do you know that? Is that true? Fucking Prewett?"

"Sebastian, please," Ominis said, placing a protective hand over his ear.

"How did you know…?" you asked quietly.

"You mention him far more than anyone outside of our house," Ominis shrugged. "You also frequently call him Leander and try to sit near him in Charms at any given opportunity."

"Oh. Right, well I suppose I'll have to be more careful in future," you replied bitterly, swallowing a lump in your throat. "Excuse me."

Storming out of the hall, you ran into the grounds and gulped down the fresh air, desperate to quell your nerves. So your best friends knew about your ridiculous crush, so what? You knew Ominis would be discreet, and Sebastian…well, he would if he knew what was good for him. No, your problem was Nellie Oggspire, and she needed to be dealt with.

The day passed slowly as you mulled over what you wanted to achieve, and tried to stay as far away from the pair as possible. You didn’t want to hurt Nellie, no, merely scare her off. A little prank never went amiss, and it would allow you to take out your frustration on the object of your envy. 

You were distracted all the way through dinner, keeping a close eye on Leander as you ate. Sebastian merely rolled his eyes, engaging in conversation with Ominis as you stewed and waited. As soon as he stood to leave, passing by Nellie with a tap on the shoulder, your fork clattered to your plate and you jumped up. Your friends called goodbye after you, but you merely grunted and gave a half-arsed wave as you strode out of the room.

You had your wand, a plan, and a whole lot of stupidity, but apparently none of the luck. They went straight to the Gryffindor common room, leaving you fuming outside of the entrance and pulling suspicious glances from students and portraits alike. Perhaps it was for the best, you thought bitterly, marching back towards your own common room in the dungeons. 

You’d made it halfway before realising you didn’t feel like the company tonight, diverting into the grounds. The evening was cool and the sun only just beginning to set as you perched on a grassy mound to watch the spectacle. Listing all of the reasons why you shouldn’t care about Leander having a girlfriend wasted a couple of hours, and the stars were bright and twinkling by the time you left your spot.

It must have been approaching curfew with the castle so quiet as you entered through the double doors, picking up your pace to almost a skip. You’d barrelled down a few corridors, activity getting sparser and silence descending until you heard him. His voice, the one that sent shivers down your spine, the reason you sat so bloody close to him in Charms, was now raised and absolutely furious.

You should have ignored it, carried on walking and put it out of your mind. It was none of your business, but curiosity got the better of you, and you approached with bated breath as the shouting got louder and you noticed a second voice. Nellie and Leander were really going at it, and you barely suppressed a grin as you listened to the exchange, only feeling the tiniest amount of guilt.

The voices dissipated, replaced by heavy footfalls you recognised from a feminine shoe. Ducking around a corner, you waited until the corridor was silent once again, breathing a deep sigh of relief. There had only been one set of footsteps, the other noticeably absent after minutes of waiting.

You knew you couldn't stay in hiding all night—it was already past curfew. You should have left, but the person you'd agonised over all day was just around the corner. Your legs were already moving in that direction, carrying you towards the spiral staircase, when you saw him; the shock of red hair atop a figure hunched over on the stairs.

"Leander?"

His face flew up, expression softening when he saw that you weren't a prefect.

"Oh…hello. Erm, what can I do for you?"

"Me? I was…are you okay?"

"Ah, did you hear that? Yes, I'm fine…"

"Right, well…"

You couldn't seem to finish your sentence, pulled between wanting to comfort him, find out more about what had happened and throwing the stoic mask over your face once more. Being sarcastic wouldn't achieve anything, even though it was your default when faced with awkward, sensitive conversations about emotions. He looked at you questioningly, clearly confused as to why you were still standing in front of him.

"Want some company?"

He blinked, not expecting the offer, but nodded and shuffled over to allow you room to sit down. Being so close to him was unnerving, your eyes instantly drawn to his mouth and feeling an intense blush cross your face. Diverting your gaze to his brown eyes didn't exactly help, and the air seemed to ripple with tension as you fidgeted and he ran a hand through his copper hair.

"What brings you here this time of night, anyway?" he asked.

"Nothing much, just came for a walk to clear my head."

"After curfew?"

"I'm particularly good at being stealthy if I need to be," you said with a small smile.

Leander chuckled, a soft, melodic laugh that made your blush deepen and fidgeting intensify. 

"I suppose I know what you were doing out here," you muttered.

"Mmm, didn't really work out that way, did it? It's fine, though. I wasn't really…"

He shrugged and his sentence trailed off with a sigh, leaning back against the stairs behind him on his elbows. Now it was even harder to take your eyes off of him as he practically lay next to you, a relaxed posture you'd never seen in your classes together. He was always so prim and proper, yet here he was with a crinkled shirt rolled to his elbows, tie loosened and hair dishevelled from a long day. You'd have loved to muss that hair even more, running your fingers through it as you kissed him.

An uncomfortable ache had settled between your legs, your abdomen full of fluttering insects that didn't appear to calm with the passing seconds. Gods, you wanted him. You felt almost crazed, and were sure he felt it too as his eyes drifted lazily over your face, flicking between your eyes and down to your lips.

"You're quite nice, for a Slytherin," he remarked.

"Hm. You're alright for a Gryffindor."

You held each other's gaze for a few agonising seconds, neither able to make a move until your impatience got the better of you. Leaning over his almost prone position, your hand found his cheek and lips met his in a tentative but dizzying kiss. He was kissing you back, long fingers wrapping your waist to pull you on top of him in an awkward and uncomfortable perch on the steps.

The pain in your knees you could do without, but it dulled to the sensation of his soft lips parting for you, his tongue meeting yours in gentle exploration. 

"Is this…just a rebound?" you asked, pulling away all but an inch.

"Does it matter if it is?" he replied, fingers pulling your shirt from your waistband.

"A little…I've liked you for a while. And I don't want to be second choice to fucking Nellie Oggspire," you added, flinching away from talking too openly about your feelings.

"Me too. I mean, I've liked you, ever since I saw you in fifth year. Gods, you're gorgeous. You could never be second best," he replied, voice dripping with lust as his hands roamed over the bare skin beneath your shirt.

Maybe this was just a one-off, but did it matter? He was offering to fulfil your fantasies and you were more than eager to accept. You doubted your body would let you refuse, the way your chest tightened, breath quickened and you ached for his touch.

"Can we go somewhere more comfortable? These stairs are killing my back," he asked with a small smile.

You couldn't help but smirk at his wincing, whilst wondering if you could make it all the way to the Room of Requirement. Willing to give it a try, you clambered off of him, saliva pooling in your mouth as you noticed the bulge in his trousers before pulling him up by his wrist. Leander stuttered, readjusting himself in his trousers as you shushed him, marching quickly and quietly towards your sanctuary. 

It was a way to go, and it was past curfew—you were bound to meet a prefect or a teacher, and then what? You'd be banished back to your common room with detention and full of frustration. The time to act was now, as you passed through the hallway and heard dull, echoing footsteps ahead of you, and Leander seemed to agree.

"Oh, shit," he whispered, swivelling you around with a pull of your hand and into a nearby dusty classroom.

"What the hell…"

"Shhh!"

The lock clicked behind you, leaving you standing in silence, moonlight pouring in through the windows the only source of light. The footsteps outside grew louder as your heart pounded, then receded, and you let out a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding.

"That was close," he sighed.

"This more comfortable for you?" you asked, glancing around at the rows of desks.

"Not exactly as cosy as my dorm…"

"It'll have to do."

Your fingers wrapped around his tie, dragging him through the rows to the large desk which at one point would have seated a professor. The classroom had long been disused—you didn't think they'd mind. As long as the dearly departed didn't decide to visit, you should have Leander all alone now.

"We're really doing this…fuck…," he muttered as you turned, backing against the desk and pulling him against you.

"We really are."

Your fingers got to work undoing the buttons on his waistband as his lips claimed you in a kiss, his hands resuming their place underneath your shirt and slipping up your back. They were soft and warm, his touch delicate but decisive, tracing your ribs around to the soft flesh of your breasts. A gasp left your mouth as his large hands gripped your breasts, pawing hungrily and teasing your nipples into stiff peaks with a flick of his dextrous thumbs.

"Leander…"

He responded with a low groan, his straining erection falling into your hand as you released him from the fabric. Oh fuck, he was proportionate to his height, for sure, and the girth you felt as you wrapped your hand around him made your breath hitch. Those soft lips were teasing you into a frenzy, brushing yours gently before pulling away ever so slightly with a smirk. Oh, he wanted to play.

Without a second thought, you crashed your mouth against his, sucking his lower lip into your mouth, nibbling and sucking, flicking and gliding your tongue to show him what you'd do elsewhere, if he behaved. Your hand worked his cock with gentle strokes, slow and steady, your thumb swiping over the top to spread his slick precum. The thought was making you hungry, the smell of his arousal drawing you down to the floor before he could react to the abandonment of the heated kiss. 

Within a second your lips were wrapped around his cock, tongue swirling around the swollen head and hand gripping firmly at the bottom of his shaft. The moans you let out echoed in the classroom, devoid of anything but the hard wooden furniture, mingling with Leander's gasps and frantic expletives. His hands were in your hair, tugging with every movement of your head as you sucked his cock ferociously, like you'd been fucking starved for years. He tasted so good, warm, wet and a perfect fit for your mouth.

Running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside of his shaft, Leander let out a shaky moan and bucked his hips, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Fuck, yes. More. You begged him with your eyes, using your spare hand to grab his hip and pull him into you. He got the hint, looking down at you with his lips parted and his eyes darkened as he took hold of your head with both hands. 

He rolled his hips, his cock sliding further down your throat, the tip squeezed by your tight muscles as you suppressed your reflex as best you could. Your eyes still watered, his face becoming more of a blur with every thrust, the groans from his throat growing louder and louder. There was something so exhilarating at being used for his pleasure, the obscenity of it only growing your already painful arousal.

He was close; you could tell by the ragged breaths and shaking legs, the urgency of his thrusts as he practically grinded against your face. The tiny moans you managed to eek out were silenced as he pulled back, spilling his load into your mouth. Thick ropes of cum shot onto your waiting tongue and coating your mouth, unable to take it all and dribbling the last down your chin. 

You were both panting by the time his cock had finished pulsing, but you found the energy to scramble to your feet, swallowing the thick, salty liquid and wiping the overspill on your sleeve. Leander looked to be in shock, an almost apologetic look on his heavily flushed face, only intensified as you hopped onto the desk and yanked his shirt to pull him between your legs. It was your turn now.

"Are you okay…?" he asked.

"More than okay, or I will be," you replied, taking his hand and roughly placing it between your legs.

"Oh…fuck…"

His thin fingers glided over the cotton of your underwear, almost making your eyes roll back in your head at the overwhelming sensitivity of your clit. You were throbbing, the bundle of nerves under his fingertips so desperate for attention. It was unbecoming to beg, especially for a Slytherin, but by Gods you were close.

Thankfully, his movements hastened at your glare, pressing firm fingers to your soaked underwear and working your nub with quick and tiny circles. 

Your arms quaked, muscles twitching and hips bucking into his hand with every little movement. His name fell from your lips over and over again until you couldn't speak, his mouth claiming yours with a frenzied hunger. Your kisses were all gasps, moans and tongue. Leander was getting hard again, his length pressing into your inner thigh, but he never wavered from his attention on you. 

He'd pulled down your underwear with tugs of his spare hand and a wiggle of your hips, fingers delving into your soaking entrance to the sound of your wails. Coated in your slick, he returned to your clit, gliding between your folds to resume his steady rhythm.

"You're so wet…"

"You drive me fucking crazy," you growled.

You were so close already, and overly sensitive. Your orgasm was building quicker and quicker, your heart pounding and body shaking as you approached your peak.

"I want you to come for me."

He whispered in your ear, and you were a goner. His silky voice slid into your ear and exploded the tension coiled in your core, your release ripping through you so intensely Leander had to grip your waist to keep you from falling against the desk as your body convulsed. You screamed his name, gasping for breath as he sucked on your neck. His fingers carried you through your orgasm until you squirmed away at the oversensitivity, gripping his back until the waves had ebbed away.

"Fucking hell."

Leander nibbled and licked at the skin on your neck, answering you by plunging his fingers inside you.

"Oh…oh Gods, Leander…"

He pulled away from your neck, looking deep into your eyes. Your stomach flipped and walls clenched around his fingers at his intense stare. He looked animalistic, a predator with its sight fixed on its prey, ready to pounce at any moment. 

"Do you want me?"

"Yes."

His fingers pulled out of you, replaced by his rock hard erection parting your folds and nudging at your entrance. He hooked an arm under your leg, drawing it up to expose you completely under your skirt. His lustful gaze dropped to your waiting cunt, watching as he pushed himself inside you with a soft groan. He was slow, steady, stretching you exquisitely. He felt incredible, everything you'd ever hoped for in those nights spent with your hand between your legs, moaning his name.

"You feel amazing," you gasped as he fully seated himself inside you.

"Gods, so do you. Fuck."

You pulled on his tie to bring his lips to yours, kissing him deeply as he began to roll his hips. Your hands were in his fiery mane as he fucked you; hard, steady and utterly perfect. You seemed to move effortlessly in sync, meeting him at the top of his thrust with a shift of your hips, his hands pulling you to press deeper than you thought possible.

"So beautiful…," he muttered against your lips.

You responded with a whimper, your walls fluttering around his cock. 

"You're going to…make me come again…," you gasped breathlessly.

"Can I finish inside you?"

You looked into his eyes, melting slightly. He didn't slow or stop his thrusts, just pounded into you as he held your gaze.

"Yes, fuck…come inside me, Leander. Fill me up."

His grip on the flesh around your hip tightened to painful levels, the skin tingling beneath his fingernails as his rhythm quickened just a little. He slammed into you harder, bruisingly, with a glint in his eye and sinful moans falling from those soft, kiss-swollen lips. You held him tighter, whispering his name as you felt his cock twitch and body tense before he met his release, pulling you over the edge with him.

He kissed you hungrily as you revelled in the bliss of your orgasms, bodies warm and sweaty but still clinging to each other through it all. Every muscle in your body relaxed as the pleasure ebbed away, leaving you limp, dazed and so content. Your cheeks brushed, sighs and heavy breaths exchanged, and for a while you forgot that you were in a dusty old classroom—being entwined with Leander in the hazy afterglow felt right, almost like home. You kissed his freckled skin until he turned to look at you, eyes searching yours.

“So…want to do that again?” he asked.

“I assume you don’t mean now,” you replied with a smirk.

“Maybe not right this second, but you said you were good at being sneaky…do you think I can get you back to my bed first?”

[stuffnonsenseandotherthings]

Crackpot Predictions - Only Friends Episode 1

Welcome to a new thing I do where I try to predict (*cough* wildly guess *cough*) what's going to happen in a show based solely on my read of the first episode. I'll try to cover all of what I think are the main story beats, record them here for posterity (and so I can either say "ha I told you so" or you can all point and laugh at me later), and hopefully by the end of the series we'll all be able to see if I'm a clairvoyant with a magic orb or, alternatively, a numpty with a glass paperweight. Some of these predictions are completely serious, others are complete crack, and some are just random thoughts that had the misfortune of wandering into my head.

With that, let's get started shall we?

The Hostel

Setting up a hostel for your graduation project? How cute!And with your best friends too? How adorable!

Too bad that hostel is absolutely Not Going To Happen. And not only is the hostel Not Going To Happen, its also going to be the site of some of the worst moments of your entire lives!

Prediction: is this is where it's all going to go down, this is where they're going to have the final argument, this is where the climax is going to happen, this is where shit hits the fan and then explodes. I mean why else would you introduce a building site if not to have all your characters have mental breakdowns symbolically in the middle of it? Scaffolding and painter's tarp is for screaming matches and for saying things you never meant to say.

Mew

Oh Mew. Soft, virginal, innocent Mew. Mew who lives in a completely different world to his friends where he wears cute pastels, gets a teen movie montage when he wakes up in the morning, gets a public confession like something out of a romance movie... Surrounded by people with impure thoughts and even worse intentions. What on earth is going to become of our sweet pastel boy?

Who am I kidding, he's going to be fine.

In fact he's probably going to be one of the few people who is fine by the end of this series, and will probably be at least partially responsible for quite a lot of other people being very fucked up (especially Top, sorry my man but you are doomed by the narrative). He's definitely doing to be hurt and he's definitely going to lose his honour student title and he's definitely going to have less friends by the end of this but he'll be fine, he's literally the only one in the friend group other than Chueam with the emotional maturity to cope with and process what's about to happen.

Prediction: He's going to lose friends (but not Chueam, she'll stick with him), his academic record is going to be messed up (but not irreparably so, he'll just have to put in extra work to repair it), and he won't have a boyfriend by the end of the series but he'll be okay, he'll be able to walk it off when it's all said and done. He may even start to get his man back (if he wants him, that is).

Ray

Poor Ray, he's a rich brat who clearly has some self-esteem issues and is whipped for his best friend. He's in for a rough ride I fear, especially seeing as he currently deals with his emotions by getting very drunk and/or lashing out.

Sand will probably be good for him (perhaps a little too good for him) in both bringing him down a peg and hopefully giving him the kind of ego boost he actually needs (no Ray you are not a burden but please stop ruining your liver) and I'm really looking forward to the development of their enemies to fwb relationship and all entails.

Unfortunately for Ray he looks like he might be a bit of a bleeding heart romantic on the inside so he's probably going to get his heart broken twice in a very short space of time; once by Mew and his new relationship and then once again by Sand and his refusal to play second fiddle and Ray is only going to realise this when it's a bit too late. Needless to say Ray will probably not be having a fun time for most of this series and of all the character he is tied as most likely to end up in hospital at some point.

Prediction: He's going to lose friends, he's going to fail his degree, he's going to get his heart broken twice and he's probably not going to be okay about it (but hopefully he'll be on the mend by the end of it all). Ray is going to start shit he can't finish and he, more than anyone else, is going to be a victim of his own actions but hopefully he's also going to be the character with the most growth. Sand might be around to scrape him off the floor at the end, but Ray is going to have to work himself out first.

Boston

Boston, what to say about Boston other than currently he seems to be trying to break the record of most men slept with in a single episode (his competition is Brian Kinney from Queer As Folk btw).

There's definitely a lot more than meets the eye when it comes to him and I look forward to unpacking all of his messy laundry when the time comes. He seems to be both incredibly confident with his life choices (good for him) and incredibly insecure about them at the same time which is fascinating and I definitely get the feeling that he has issues with Mew (to the point where I wouldn't really say they're actually friends) because of that insecurity. I genuinely wouldn't be surprised is at some point we get a lot of pent resentment spilling out from Boston about Mew because no one casually mocks someone they're genuinely okay with that many times behind their back.

Prediction: Boston wants but he doesn't quite know what. He is definitely blowing up every single friendship he has in the process of working it out and he's probably going to find himself on his own for a while too, which might actually be what he needs. That being said, if anyone decides to put forward a laurel at the end of the show though, I also think it's going to be him. I also predict no romance, but I also don't think that's what he wants or needs.

Top

Top the Top Tier player who's never not got his object of interest before. He likes casual sex, comes off as a bit of a sleaze (but at least a sleaze who respects boundaries), and is apparently looking for a new challenge now sleeping around has got boring (but not boring enough to not sleep with Boston again).

The problem for Top is that he thinks he's approaching Mew in his world and on his terms where in reality he's already dancing to the tune of Mew's fiddle and it's only going get worse. Mew's world has rules and regulations and things you just don't do (like sleeping with your boyfriend's best friend) and Top is going to find himself caught up in them. What's worse is he's probably going to find out (much too late) that he wants to be caught up in them. Top might be the big man now but he is well and truly fucked.

Prediction: Top isn't going to take his relationship with Mew 100% seriously until he realises he's already completely invested in it and at that point it's going to be too late. He's definitely going to break Mew's heart but Mew is going to break his ten times over and he's not going to recover easily from that. He might have a chance at redemption, but only once he's completely wrecked himself first.

Sand

Sand was just trying to live his life and then he threatened to pee on someone's head and it all went down hill from there.

At the moment he seems like the audience stand in: watching all the chaos and wondering what on earth is wrong with all these privileged brats (semi-affectionate). Like Mew he definitely seems to have himself together in a way that makes me think he'll come away from this pretty okay emotionally (it'll hurt but he's not allergic to emotions, he'll heal). Unlike Mew he definitely doesn't seem to completely together life-wise (i.e monetarily) though, which does make me wonder if our 3 friends (I'm not including Chueam in this, she's not a guilty party) are going to mess that up for him instead.

Prediction: Emotionally he's going to be okay (although he probably has heartbreak in the cards), in every other aspect I think he'll sustain the most damage (and therefore will be entitled to compensation). He feels the most like an innocent bystander and, as such, is definitely going to regret the day he lay eyes on the back of Ray's head. Out of all the characters, he's probably going to be the one due the most apologies all while having done very little to anyone else.

Nick

Wow well Twison changed when he went to uni, wasn't expecting that trajectory at all 😋

In all honesty I feel like I have the least to go on for Nick in terms of predictions (not that I have much to go on for anything else I've been saying). He seems to be completely gone for Boston already (oh Babe he is not a good target to fall head over tits for) and I like the idea that's floating around that Nick is already familiar with Boston somehow based off his reaction to their first meeting.

That being said, I am getting a little bit of a creep vibe from him (maybe it was the invasion of his client's privacy and subsequent masturbation scene that pinged the alarm idk) but I can't help but feel like everything Mew said he'd do if he slept with Top? Yeah Nick would actually do all those things and more. So yeah, while Boston is going to mess him up with their ambiguous relationship, it's only because Nick was pretty messed up in the first place and he'll end up messing Boston up right back with his clingy/obsessive tendencies.

Prediction: Looks like a marshmallow, is actually on fire. Things are going to go wrong for him but only because things were not right in the first place. Possibly the most likely to actually need therapy. I also wouldn't be at all surprised if he's the one to swing the bat that brings it all crashing down, in fact in this crack-pot prediction, I'm expecting him to.

The Friendship Group

Is going to be in tatters by the end of this series, I'm so sorry Chueam. (I mean is this even a prediction or am I just stating the obvious?)

Prediction: Mew and Chueam are probably still going to be friends (they seems like the closest to each other) but no one else is going to be talking. Ray might have Sand (and Chueam if he doesn't fuck up too much) but Boston going to be on his lonesome and so is Top unless they want to throw a pity party together. At the end of the show there will be a tentative reconciliation, but with the knowledge they're never going to be the same, never going to be as close as before.

TLDR + Extra Predictions

Mew: About to have the worst time of his life but he'll make it through, his pain is going to end up being other people's problem.

Ray: Poor, unfortunate soul checking in at heart-break hotel twice in the space of a few months. Most likely to get his man though.

Boston: Needs to figure out what he wants. Probably going to end up completely cut off from everyone but also most likely to extend the peace offering at the end.

Top: Fucked. (Might get a chance at redemption at the end if he's lucky)

Sand: Emotionally fine, financially screwed. Out of everyone he has to most to complain about and he doesn't even go here.

Nick: Most likely to need actual therapy.

Climax: A big argument at the hotel surrounded by the ruins of their hard work

Likely scene: All of them at Yo's bar they used to go to as friends but this time ignoring each others existence.

Likely scene 2: Boston unleashing a load of suppressed resentment towards Mew, possibly to do with their different lifestyles/world views.

Best chance at romance: Chueam

Best chance at staying friends: Chueam and Mew

Key theme: The importance of friendship

Me: happy to be proven right or wrong with these predictions and here for the wild ride regardless.

And that's it! As I said, these predictions are completely pulled from the air around a single watch of episode 1 so they're not at all serious. If I'm right yay, if I'm wrong also yay, I'm just happy to be watching, I just thought it would be fun to test how well I can predict a narrative based on very little information indeed. If anyone wants to share their own crackpot predictions I am more than happy to hear them, let's clown together.

[sillygooseun]

okay so since i haven’t posted much recently, i have a lot to share bc i’m. Like That™️ :D

anyway so i work at a small newspaper stand and occasionally they’ll let me edit or write pieces for the article! anyway, the other day, i was talking to one of my coworkers (omg i sound so adult) about hair dye/styles, and how different hairstyle/hair color means you’re often treated differently. (basically this post here) and our editor happened to walk by and here some of what i was saying, and he goes “Hey, you’re really passionate about that. I like it! Write this down, because even if it doesn’t make it into the paper, I want it in my office.” so of course i was all like “Okay! I’ll get right to it then!” so anyway i just thought that since i shared that post i wanted to also share what i wrote (it didn’t end up in the paper, but he actually pinned it on his wall!!! i’m so so proud!)

WARNING IT IS REALLY LONG SO DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ THROUGH A LONG ARTICLE!!!

Hair dye. One of the many wonders of our world. You can look the way you want, because you have the power to choose. I’ve always loved the idea of dyeing my hair, and I’ve been dyeing it since i was 13 years old. Something that I’ve learned along the way is that people tend to treat you differently based on your hair color. A lot of people like to say the phrase “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Except for the fact that a lot of the time, the people saying this are only saying it for their benefit. It is an intrinsically human behaviour to judge and feel judged. Now, you may be reading this going “Well, that’s only some people, because I would never judge anyone!” But thats where you’re wrong, and you know it. When we see other people, oftentimes our first thought is something bad. For example; “She should get a nose job,” or “That color does not look good on her.” We all judge people, even if we don’t realise it, because we live in a society where it’s normal to do so. But if you don’t think judging people is a horrible thing to do, I’m sure you’re going to be convinced by the end of this article.

I’ve been pushed around all my life. By bigger, older people, by boys, by girls, by adults. And I’ve never felt as though it was a bad thing, because I was told that every kid my age goes through it. But when I found out this wasn’t true, I was furious. Rage can feel different sometimes, and this time it felt like betrayal. It also felt sad, and cruel. I couldn’t help but think, “Why didn’t they just tell me? Why didn’t they do anything?” I know now that they couldn’t. Or, perhaps “wouldn’t” is a better choice of word. When I found out that I was being pushed around more than others, I felt out of place, and unnatural. A month after I had turned 13, I decided to dye my hair a bright purple color. I was treated 10 times worse than I had been with my natural, brunette hair. So I continued to dye my hair every color under the sun, when I realised that it was useless. At 14, I dyed my hair platinum blonde. I was treated better than I was before. My hair grew out, and I kept it blonde until I was 16. I felt more confident, less unsure of who I am, or where my place was. But everyone seemed to put me in this box. My male teachers started dumbing down subjects for me when I asked a question. Boys at school (whom I’ve known for years) started telling me I couldn’t play football with them. I was told that I “dont even know who that is” when wearing a sports jersey. I got tired of being talked to as if I’m stupid and worthless.

My mom is someone who I’ve always been close to, always looked up to. My mom has red hair, and when I was 16, I dyed my hair the same shade as hers. As you should know, girls are a little more matured at 16. Well, a 16 year old with red hair is apparently a target for older men. I was stared at by men twice my age at the gas station, the grocery store, and I was suddenly more liked by boys at school. At the time I had thought it was a normal thing, that all girls go through this. When I was talking to my friend about it I realised this was something that wasn’t happening to her. I was confused, and angry with myself for not realising. I let the red fade out of my hair, and gave it some time to go back to its natural color.

My hair healed from the chemicals in the hair dye. I was not treated as bad as I was with colored hair, not talked to as dumb as I was with blonde hair, and not sexualised the way I was with red hair. I could simply be, and that was enough for a while. Until I got bored of being normal, and dyed it again. I was called “an attention seeker” by classmates, friends, and even family. I’ve learned now to ignore them, because even though my hair is different, I’m not. I want anyone with dyed hair to know that you are still you. Unless you’re not. Some people are changing and some aren’t, and that’s okay! I’m 17 now, with green hair, and suddenly I’m “cool” and “edgy.” I don’t care what people think I am, because I know who I am. And I hope that you, dear reader, can also someday know what it’s like to know who you are.

[thosetaleskids]

“One mabo curry, served fresh!” Ludger announced as he emerged from the back of his brother’s stand. Though Julius’ Tomato Specials was ‘semi-officially closed’ due to Julius aiding in some post-maintenance work (since if you’re going to flaunt your teleportation powers, may as well use it for a good cause), so Ludger was acting as a ‘back-up chef’ so customers weren’t left to dry for the day.

 In short, no need to hide unless the other Ludger dropped by! Then… he’d just have to make due. 

As the young Malak either poked at or jumped straight into his dish, Ludger had an important statement! “While you’re eating, I wanted to thank you for how you’ve been treating Elle, my brother, and I.” Elle especially– Magilou called it a crush, but it likely wasn’t that deep…. maybe? “Elle’s been over the moon even after the Void Entity Incident, and my brother’s impressed by your mature yet friendly outlook. To call our lives and reputations back home ‘complicated’ is putting things lightly; kindness like yours isn’t something we receive often.” 

“So for your big heart, here’s a gift from all of us!” Ludger presented the Malak two small boxes, one resembling a snowy field and the other a flowing grassland. Inside the respected boxes were a pinned Snow Butterfly and an Aladhian Beetle. The book Silva left behind hinted Laphicet liked bugs, so why not give him a memento of their world’s bugs? 

“Thank you for caring about us, Laphicet. I hope we've made you feel as special as you have us.”

"Wow! It looks so good!"

Enthusiastic boy was enthusiastic about his curry; there was absolutely no hiding the way his face lit up as the dish was set before him. Never one to let good food go to waste, he dug in hungrily, already assuming that to have been all--

And paused to look at Ludger, mouth half-full, as the other kept speaking.

He definitely coloured a little at the mention of Elle, although Phi hoped that could be passed off as just from the heat of the curry. While he would not have called it exactly a crush, the fact remained that Magilou perhaps wasn't as far from the mark as she might have been. There was definitely a something there that was different to what he felt for the other girls in his life, although good luck getting him to say so aloud.

He swallowed his mouthful, and hopefully some of the heat from his cheeks, in time to respond to Ludger's words.

"It's no problem! Elle's been really nice to me, too--" aside from, you know, the stabbing-with-a-phantom-dagger thing, but she hadn't exactly been in her own mind at the time "--and I'm glad to be friends with her. With all of you."

He could... honestly relate to the reputations being complicated thing more than Ludger might realise; he was, after all, loyal travelling companion of the Lord of Calamity, who was set on engulfing their world in the flames of chaos. Perhaps he didn't have it so bad as Ludger's family, since at least no-one except the highest-ranking exorcists seemed able to identify them by sight--

Although knowing that his official description was 'a girl with a weird cowlick' was still just too embarrassing for words--

But it was, at the very least, something that Phi knew better than to judge someone else based on.

Even still, he hadn't seen the gifts coming; and his reaction betrayed his surprise. Setting aside his bowl of curry for the moment, as his curiosity overwhelmed his hunger, Laphicet accepted the twin boxes. With a glance at Ludger to check that the other wouldn't protest him opening the gifts now, the Malak boy carefully opened first one box, then the other. Eyes widened with fascination as he removed and inspected both pinned bugs.

In truth he felt a little bad for the bugs, especially when he was used to looking after a live one in the form of his rhinostagros; but at the same time, he understood that this way preserved the pair in all their fascinating glory. He turned them both over in his hands, looking at both but paying especial attention to the beetle, before looking back at Ludger with a grin.

"These are both amazing! And I'll never forget any of you, I promise!"

[penofpenguin]

helllllooo, sweetie <3

so, i had this idea in my head for a long time: octatrio boys suddenly turned into babys and f!reader who really loves children needs to take care of them!

sending love (◍•ᴗ��◍)✧*。

Hello to you to darling ^^

Thank you for the absolutely adorable request!! I didn't know whether you meant separately or not so I did the characters separately. Writing this was so fun and I hope you enjoy it! *recieves the love that was sent*

Content Warnings: A bit ooc, Jade

Reader's fish boyfriend turns into a baby and reader has fun taking care of him.

Azul x F!reader, Jade x F!reader, Floyd x F!reader

You knocked on the VIP room, hoping for the usual voice of a delicate voice saying "come in"

But instead all you heard was baby screeching.

You jolted in only to find a smol, round, adorable octopus crying on the floor. There was a cauldron nearby, which gave you a hint that Azul was making potions again.

You snapped back to your senses when you realised this was a baby sea creature not in the water.

Jumping into action, you emptied the cauldron and filled it up with water. Then you yeeted the baby octopus into the water, which was then swimming around rather happily.

When you put your hand in, little Azul wrapped a tentacle around it and looked at you with his shimmering crystal blue eyes.

"Having fun baby Azul?" You smiled as he nuzzled your hand.

"Momma," was all it took to make your heart skip a beat.

You wanted to put him in a fish tank and carry him everywhere with you.

Leech devils stopped by and Floyd made Azul cry. Jade on the other hand, offered to make Azul some food but you were hesitant as baby octopi cannot ingest mushrooms.

They did help you get him back to normal though by making a potion.

As much as you'd love the actual 17-year-old Azul, this Azul was too adorable to let go.

"Hello Azul." You rubbed his cheek with your thumb to which he splashed around happily.

You pick him up(it required alot of strength) and huggle him, to which his cold, wet cheek meets your warm one.

"I'm gonna miss you once you turn back." Azul stared innocently at your remark.

You fed him the potion and placed him on the ground. It also seemed that Jade had mixed some of the human potion into it too, for Azul's convenience.

Infront of you stood the mature Ashengrotto.

"What did you mean by you'll miss me once I turn back? I am clearly better like this!" He said, crossing his arms. Yep, he heard that last sentence.

You gave him a kiss on his nose, which made him flush.

"I love all versions of Azul Ashengrotto."

You knocked on the Leech Twins' door. A terrarium was on your hand, which you made for Jade.

Floyd opened it, looking annoyed. In his hand was a bowl(it was one of Jade's terrariums) which inside consisted of water and a baby eel playing around.

"Is...your brother there?" You asked.

"This is Jade. Can you keep 'em and return him once he's normal again??" Floyd said, shoving the bowl to your hands.

Before you could say anything, Floyd smiled, said thanks and shut the door in your face.

You were in fact, happy. You looked into the bowl and saw a small eel peeking out to see you.

Playing with him was very fun, as baby Jade was slightly mischievous, yet relaxed.

Baby eels are known to be very small, so you enjoy petting his head.

Take your eel with you everywhere. He won't admit it but he'll feel lonely. Show him some mushrooms that grew near you. Just make sure he doesn't remember the mushrooms when he goes back to normal(for your own safety)

Make sure to feed him enough. He keeps asking for food but make sure you feed a proper amount. Don't fall for his puppy eyes.

When he turns back, he actually gets embarrassed that you saw him like that, but maintains a relaxed facade.

"You're quite good with children." He says.

"I just love them so much."

"Perhaps you'd be good with our future one(s)." He says with his signature grin.

He leaves, making sure you're all flustered.

You don't even know how you got caught up in this situation.

There was a bowl of water, a baby eel in it, and water splashed everywhere on your bed when you came into your dorm room.

He'd turn back in 24 hours according to Jade and Azul, who told you to take care of baby Floyd as "responsibility of a lover".

Baby Floyd was a rollercoaster.

For your own safety, you didn't put your finger in.

Floyd kept jumping out of the water and moving everywhere. It was very exhausting going after him.

After sometime he'll get bored.

He'll watch you from the glass.

If anyone he doesn't like talks to you or if anyone troubles you, he will jump out and chomp them.

They had to go to the infirmary after that because of an angry eel.

Although if you're feeling sad of any sort, he'll try cheering you up. You'll definitely feel better afterwards.

He probably doesn't want to turn back.

When he does turn back to normal, he either runs and squeezes you, or yawns and sleeps.

"I wanna be a baby eel forever!"

"I'm glad you're not."

"Why nottt? I can be in your arms all day~"

"I would love that, but for now, I need to be in yours."

"Hmmm~ What a needy sea creature. Maybe I should rename you~"

After a long day of taking care of him, you end up asleep in his arms.

I hope you enjoyed this! I'm not really good at writing requests like this but I did my best!

Thank you for requesting and have a nice day!

-Madeline🐧

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 2,947

Notes:

I have decided to make this into a series.

Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

 *************************

Cillian’s POV

Shortly after Denise got home from her rather miserable date with Jeremy, Cillian went to bed. It was only 9 o’clock but he thought that he would spend some time finishing reading the book he had started to read two nights ago.

The problem was that, even when he tried hard to focus on the content of the book, he couldn’t.

His mind was overrun with guilt about what had happened between you all so suddenly and unexpectedly and he still wasn’t so sure why he had given into you so easily. It was almost like he had lost all of his self-control in that moment.

This kind of behaviour was unusual for him. Usually, he would have been more sensible than this. After all, he was 45 and never had a one-night stand in his entire life.

Would you share this with anyone?

Probably not, he thought. He had known you for a while and you weren’t the type of woman who was actively seeking attention. You were always somewhat nerdy and a bit of loner. For years, he had known you to be sensible and he always liked that you were looking out for his daughter Denise. You were more mature than her and were always somewhat shy and reserved.

With this in mind, he was even more surprised by your actions. You seducing him the way you did seemed out of character for you which made him nervous.

Did you have feelings for him?

He certainly hoped that you didn’t. For him, this was nothing but sex and he would hate to give you the feeling that it was something more. He didn’t want to hurt you.

He should never have given into you. He knew that it was wrong and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he acted so selfishly because, in his mind, this was exactly what it was. An act of selfishness.

You were young and clearly inexperienced which made this whole thing even worse. It was obvious to Cillian that you hadn’t been with many men before and he felt as though he took advantage of you even despite the fact that you were the one who made a move on him. He should have stopped you.

The fact that he is seeing someone else in Manchester didn’t help either and, whilst it wasn’t anything serious or exclusive, it felt wrong to him to be intimate with you which, in his own mind, brought him to another dilemma all together.

Why didn’t he use protection when he slept with you?

He knew that he could have simply walked into his son’s bedroom and find what he needed. But he didn’t. Instead, he was so consumed by lust that he forgot all about the need to be play it safe. Of course, he always reminded his adult children about the importance of protection and yet, he failed to adhere to his own rules.

Whilst he knew that you didn’t have many sexual partners and any risk associated with contracting STDs was somewhat low, he worried that you weren’t on birth control.

Why on earth didn’t he at least ask you about it? Was it too late to ask you now? Why did you make him pull out?

WHAT THE FUCK HAD HE DONE???

He panicked and he knew he had to talk to you in order to ease his mind.

YOUR POV

After you listened to Denise about her date gone wrong and what an asshole Jeremy actually was, you also made your way to bed. You felt terrible for her but knew that she would meet someone else who would make her happy and treat her well.

But her date with Jeremy wasn’t the only thing you felt terrible about. Even more so, you felt terrible about sleeping with her father which you knew was wrong and yet, you tried to justify it in your head.

Why did you act so selfishly and gave into your sexual needs?

This was something you had never done before. You were rather careful when it came to getting yourself involved with guys.

You had taken a liking in your friend’s father several years ago when you were 19. But then, it was just a silly crush you thought.

When you heard about his divorce however, you began to fantasise about him in your sleep and this was simply a fantasy you had finally acted upon.

This, however, didn’t change the fact that he was your friend’s father.

Would she mind if she knew?

Maybe she wouldn’t. She might just think that you are disgusting for sleeping with her dad but, in the end of the day, you are two consenting adults.

Why couldn’t you stop even when you realised that what you were doing was wrong?

When you made the first move it was almost like you were in a trance. You were overwhelmed. You wanted every bit of it but you never experienced sex quite like this. It was intense and he certainly knew what he was doing.

Whilst Cillian was much older than you, you were extremely attracted to him. Everything about him was perfect in your mind and he felt incredible when he was inside you.

You wanted so much more and thought that, perhaps, if it was just sex, it wasn’t wrong after all.

Together Again

Just as those thoughts raced through your mind, you heard a quite knock on the door.

Thinking that it was Denise, you didn’t bother to cover up as you were sitting on the guest bed in black cotton panties and a tight cotton singlet.

To your surprise, however, it wasn’t Denise who walked into the guestroom when you called out ‘come in’. It was Cillian.

His chin dropped as soon as he saw you. For some reason, he took a liking in your rather simple but yet revealing outfit, your messy hair and your black framed reading glasses.

‘Hey’ you simply said shyly as he was standing there speechless.

‘Hey’ he responded, swallowing harshly before telling you that he needed to talk to you.

‘Sure’ you said, putting the magazine down which you were reading along with your reading glasses. Then, you scooted over on the bed and indicated to him to sit down next to you.

His scent was intoxicating. He was freshly showered and his hair was still wet but you could still smell a hint of his aftershave on him.

‘So, what do you want to talk about?’ you asked without bothering to cover up your naked skin and you could see Cillian’s mind working overtime while the tension was building.

‘About what happened between us’ he then stammered while he observed your eyes wandering towards where they shouldn’t. But, you couldn’t help it and, when you noticed that he was reacting to your presence, you bit your lips seductively.

‘What happened between us was just sex. It’s not a big deal. People have sex all the time and you can trust me Cillian. It will remain our little secret’ you said in a seductive voice while moving your hand over Cillian’s upper thigh, through the hairs on his exposed skin and then all the way towards the rim of his boxers.

‘Y/N’ he barely managed to stammer, swallowing harshly.

‘Yes Cillian?’ you then smirked, noticing the effect you were having on him and moving your hand farther up his legs and beneath his boxers where you began to stroke his cock.

‘You are so hard’ you then whispered as you received no response from him other than a groan and, just as you did, Cillian took hold of you and pushed you beneath him in one swift movement.

Without words, Cillian’s warm lips met yours in a passionate kiss. The kiss was more urgent than before and you loved the way he asserted his dominance as his tongue circled around yours.

He felt such desire for you that he thought he would explode and, whilst he was normally quite vocal, every word he tried to say and every question he was going to ask you, were caught in his throat.

Wrapping your arms round him you ran your hands up and down his firm back as your mouths ground together. Sucking on each other's lips and plunging your tongues into each other’s mouth.

You couldn’t believe how wonderful it was to be kissed in such an experienced, almost sophisticated way and Cillian was marvelling at how someone so young could have learned to kiss so well.

Within split seconds and in between heated kisses, Cillian’s t-shirt and your singlet landed on the floor.

It wasn’t long until Cillian’s mouth left yours and began to wander over your firm breasts and then all the way down to your stomach which is where they came to a halt.

He interlocked his fingers with your panties and pulled them down, letting them join the other clothes on the floor before his head gracefully disappeared in between your legs.

‘It goes without saying, but you need to be quiet’ Cillian chuckled and you barely managed to nod before you covered your own mouth with the palm of your hand as Cillian dipped his tongue straight into your wetness.

‘Oh god yes’ you whimpered quietly as the rasping roughness of his tongue slid along your velvety wetness and sent enormous tremors through you.

You had little experience of either, receiving or, giving oral sex. In your world of mainly inexperienced boys, it was hardly on the agenda as they were generally too keen to get their rocks off to worry overly about your pleasure. In any case in the usually rushed episodes in the back of cars or downstairs with parents in bed there was hardly the time let alone the opportunity for languid pussy licking or sensual cock sucking. In the world of the forty-five year-old man lying between your opened legs, however, it very much was on the agenda and he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did.

You moaned loudly as you were holding Cillian’s head in both hands as he licked the length of your pussy. He did it slowly with just the right amount of pressure making sure that the tip of his tongue fully anointed both lips and licked just inside them on that especially sensitive area.

When you moaned a little too loudly again, he reminded you to be quiet just before he sucked and kissed you again, covering every inch of the outside of your pussy before pushing the straightened tip of his tongue inside and probing upwards licking the insides as he started to tongue fuck you.

‘This feels so fucking good’ you stammered, legs shaking and quivering while Cillian held you tightly and it wasn’t long until you reached an orgasm which sent convulsions through your body.

You moaned a little too loud again as your whole body tingled and felt tender to the touch and tears of pleasure and relief, with a tinge of guilt, poured down your cheeks.

‘That was amazing’ you eventually huffed out as you slowly came down from your high and Cillian kissed his way back up your body until his lips reached yours.

‘You taste so fucking good’ he then whispered into your ear after your lips drifted apart and, just as he did, you reached in between his legs and began stroking his cock which was still rock hard.

‘I want to feel you inside me again…please…just once more’ you begged and the sound of you begging alone made Cillian groan.

‘Fuck Y/N…I want you so much’ he whispered as he pulled down his boxers and his wiggling body urged your legs to open so that his cock lay between your thighs with the bulbous end of it pressed against your lips.

‘Then take me’ you groaned marvelling at the fact your friend's dad was about to fuck you.

With the tip of his cock just slightly parting the lips of your pussy and his arms round your body with his hands gripping your taught bum he muttered something you couldn’t understand. It was obvious to you that his mind was hardly able to accept what was happening. Nonetheless, he wanted it so badly and, with a shrug of his hips, he sank his cock deep into your gorgeously tight and wonderfully welcoming pussy.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian’ you groaned as your fingernails were digging into his back.

He pushed himself in as far as it would go, eliciting more groans from you which he had to quickly silence with his lips.

You felt light-headed and deliriously happy. You also felt very filled. Cillian was bigger than the other guys you had been with and you loved the feeling of being stretched. The folds of skin that guard your clit seemed to be open and that so sensitive place felt to be exposed, so as Cillian started moving slowly up and down it was as though his cock was rubbing on it. You had never felt anything like it before. Just as you had never felt like cumming when a man's cock had only been inside you for a few moments.

Somehow, however, you managed to delay your release just a little bit longer, enjoying as Cillian thrusted into you hard and deep until, eventually, the inevitable happened.

‘Let go, there is no need to hold back’ Cillian reassured you and, just as he did, you allowed your orgasm to wash over you.

‘Oh god Cillian, fuck’ you shouted out and he quickly covered your mouth with his hand as he continued to thrust into and watched you lose control.

Your legs were shaking once again as you gave in and, when you finally came down, Cillian pulled out of you.

Thinking that he was done and that he wanted you to proceed as before, you scooted up but, to your surprise, Cillian pulled you on top of him instead.

‘Your turn to take what you need Y/N’ Cillian whispered and you couldn’t help but shiver at his words. He wanted you on top and that was yet another first for you.

‘You can cum again’ he then said but you couldn’t help but shake your head.

‘I don’t think I can, but I am willing to try’ you smirked. He had already given you four orgasms that day which were four more orgasms than anyone else before him had given you.

‘I bet you can’ he then winked and you nodded shyly before taking his hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance.

‘I will be sore tomorrow I think’ you whispered as, with a moan, you sank down on his hard cock.

‘Yes, you will be’ Cillian chuckled as, all of a sudden, he thrusted upwards and deep into your mound, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

Once again, he covered your mouth with his hand as you began to ride him.

‘You feel so fucking good, you know that?’ Cillian groaned as you began to move up and down on his hard shaft. He certainly had become vocal now and you loved it.

‘So tight around my cock’ he then groaned as he met your thrusts and he could hear you starting to whimper.

‘Oh god…yes, fuck my pussy’ you moaned quietly, holding his hand and keeping it near your mouth while sucking on his fingers.

‘Cum inside me Cillian. I want to feel it. Fill me with your cum’ you then demanded as you began to ride his cock harder and faster and, by this point, Cillian had lost all self-control.

The dirty talk, the tightness of your pussy and the way your lips played with his fingers was too much for him.

‘Cum with me Cillian’ you then moaned as you let go and so did he.

‘Oh god Cillian, yes…fuck’ you groaned as such amazing feelings flooded your body and you felt him push into you as far as he could go.

‘Fuck Y/N’ grunted as you both climaxed simultaneously and you soared to a height of pleasure you had never previously experienced when Cillian’s cock exploded sending streams of his cum into you.

‘Oh god that was amazing’ you eventually huffed out when you both stopped moving.

‘Jesus Y/N’ Cillian grunted almost at the same time before his eyes shot open and he saw your satisfied smile.

Carefully, you climbed off him, releasing his cock from your tight pussy before you sat down on the bed next to him.

You spread your legs and, with curious eyes, you looked down on yourself and watched some of Cillian’s cum leak from your core.

‘That feels so fucking good…so warm and wet’ you observed as you collected some of his cum with your finger and brought it to your mouth while Cillian cocked an eyebrow, wondering what you were doing.

‘Uhm…?’ Cillian chuckled, watching you almost speechlessly but yet somewhat turned on.

‘I never had a guy cum inside me but this is so fucking sexy’ you observed with a laugh before reshuffling yourself and collapsing into his arms.

‘Yeah, about that…’ Cillian went on to say…

 Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  

[lovely-jily]

potions and locked closets

hey!! sorry this is such a long fic BUT i just wanted to say that i’m also working on this same fic but from lily’s pov lmk if you’d want that:))) thanks and i love you all so freakin much <3

James tried to steady his breathing. His heart was already beating too quickly for his liking, and he hadn't even seen her yet. He was already surprised that she agreed to be his partner; they both know that it would likely be another hour of pointless bickering but nonetheless. Lily Evans had agreed to partner with James for their weekly project Slughorn had assigned. She finally said yes to something.

"Fine," she had said after he asked her, following it up with, "But I'll undoubtedly need help with Transfiguration this week, so if you swear to help me, then I suppose we can partner."

In all honesty, James wasn't having too much trouble with his Elixer to Induce Euphoria, but he just wanted an excuse for Lily to be with him. And maybe if she saw that he had matured at least a little bit, it would make her start to tolerate him.

If that were even possible.

The dungeons were decently empty, but Lily had intentionally reserved the potions room in advance so no one else would be around. Meaning they would be completely and totally alone.

When he walked into the room, she was fiddling with the size of the fire under the cauldron. She was at the desk she usually sat in, the second row to the left, with her back to him.

"Evening Evans," He said, setting his bag on the table and standing next to her, "I see you've started already."

"Well, I actually want a good score on this," She exhaled through her mouth and flipped through her Potions book, her dainty fingers lingering on the words "Elixer to Induce Euphoria".

"I'm right there with you," he said, rolling up his sleeves. He watched Lily's eyes dart from his arms back to her textbook. From what James could see, she already gathered the ingredients and had them neatly organised in front of them.

"Alright, you can start by skinning these then?" She said, swiftly handing him the Shrivelfigs.

"Got it," he noted the way her eyes darted up to his for a second when she was handing him the Shrivelfigs, their skin touching momentarily. While it was only a second, it was long enough to cause James to hitch his breath in an all too noticeable way.

He started skinning the flower, trying to ignore the way her perfume smelled or the curve of her jaw. She tied her hair up in a low ponytail, pulling out tiny wispy hairs that framed her face. He chastised himself for the dirty thoughts that followed, but, Jesus, he couldn't help his want to do the most unholy things to her when she did that.

She started working on porcupine quills as he attempted to pull himself together.

"I wish we got Amortentia."

James took a sharp inhale, resulting in him coughing on his own spit. She, Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans who insisted she hated every fibre of his being every day since they were twelve, wanted to make a love potion with him- James! James Potter! As in the same James Potter that she would shoot daggers at any excuse, the boy she would scold any second she could, the boy-

"It's just so much more of a challenge compared to this one," she finished.

Right. Of course. That's why Lily wanted to make that potion, no other reason, as much as James wanted there to be.

"At least we didn't get Felix Felicis. That takes a while," He ignored the feeling of his heart sinking and his stomach twisting as he finished up the Shrivelfigs. He should've known that was the reason, but he couldn't help but innocently jump to conclusions with her.

"What did Amortentia smell like for you?" She asked, causing James to start jumping to conclusions again.

How do I answer this honestly without giving away the fact that I smelled her?"

"Fresh bread, rain, and- uh- my mother's shampoo," He mentally kicked himself for bringing up his mother, but it was the quickest thing he could think of on the spot, "What about you?"

She sighed, stirring in the quills, "The ocean, my mum's hot chocolate and a cologne of some kind, but I couldn't place where that one was from."

A pang of jealousy beat along with James's heart as he thought about her smelling another lads cologne. Whoever he was, he was a prick.

She shook her head quickly as she seemed to panic for a moment, hastily saying, "Anyways, I'm sure it doesn't matter."

She fiddled with the ladle, brushing the few hairs out of her face. Her cheeks were bright red.

"You alright there, Evans?" He asked as he turned to look at her. He swallowed what felt like all his dignity and pride but was actually just the extra spit that always was around with Lily.

"Just fine," She cleared her throat and handed him the Sopophorous beans, not looking at him, "Would love it if you could start working on these, though."

"Got it," he mumbled as he started dicing the beans.

"No, Potter," His heart lightened a little at the sound of his name in her voice, even if it was to chastise him, "Those are far too small. They'll dissolve too quickly."

"What do you mean, this is how Slughorn does it-"

"Slughorn always cuts things too small, but he makes up for it by moving a little quicker-"

"Well, that's stupid. What kind of a teacher-"

"James," She looked up at him, sighing, and despite her exhausted expression, his lungs lifted immensely at the sound of his first name. She never used his first name.

"Yes, Evans?"

"Could you perhaps go find more in the Potions closet? I think it'll just make things a lot easier."

"Got it."

The closet was cluttered, full of misplaced ingredients from students whose first priority clearly wasn't organisation. After a solid minute of staring at the mess, he called her in to help him.

"What do you mean 'Can't find them'- I just saw them," she huffed, shoving herself next to him in the tight space. James would be lying if he said he didn't do this on purpose but let the boy live. He would take any excuse to be in close proximity to the girl.

"Not sure how anyone could find anything in here. I feel bad for the poor bloke who has to clean this during detention," He said, hands on his hips as she stood in front of him, green eyes scanning the shelves. The closet door closed behind her, and while they weren't any closer than they were by the desks, it almost felt like she was right on top of him. It was taking his total concentration to not think about shoving her against the door and having a long-awaited snog.

"It'll probably be Sirius," she said, glancing at him, a smirk on her face.

He chuckled as he looked at the messy shelves, suddenly shy from her eye contact, "Probably. Maybe we should leave him a note."

They faced each other, her back towards the door and his towards the shelves of messy ingredients. There was just enough room between them for her to fold her arms against her chest, her smile making James's lungs feel extra airy, "Or we can charm the Wolfsbane to fall off every time he tries to put it away."

James laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at her. Their faces were only inches apart, and his heart was beating so hard he was worried she could feel it.

"You know, for such a stickler for rules, you're quite creative with pranks."

She smirked, "I've learned that you can get away with a lot more if you aren't so obnoxious about it."

James let out a fake, dramatised gasp, "You?! A Prefect breaking rules?"

She just shrugged, a smirk still painted on her face. James took a second to look at her, feeling fortunate that not only was he was in the potions closet with her, but she had chosen to carry a conversation with him. This friendly banter was still a little rare, even though they had been getting a little closer lately. Since the incident at the end of fifth year, roughly nine months ago, James decided to get his act together. Mainly for the sake of Lily, but also the threat of war was becoming more than just rumours, and he knew that a war was no place for an immature bully like himself. He was not a person that he- or really anyone- was proud of, and he wasn't okay with that.

James was about to say something when her eyes lit up at something behind his head.

"There it is!" She said and reached her arm out to grab something just next to his ear.

Under normal circumstances, James would've been disappointed that she found it because it probably meant that his time in a closet with her, the girl he's wanted to shag since he had first laid eyes on her, was now over.

However, when Lily reached forward to grab whatever they were looking for (James had since forgotten. Other things had occupied his mind the past couple of minutes), she had subconsciously pressed her body up against his. In a panic, James put his hands on her waist. They both looked at each other with panicked eyes when they realised what was going on, faces close enough that James felt her heavy exhale as she attempted to catch her breath. Her eyes darted to his lips as he was suddenly aware of how naked they felt without hers on them. He instinctively bit them.

James cleared his throat and politely turned his head away from her, trying to reduce the awkwardness.

"Er-Um-Sorry," He said, taking his hands off her waist and shoving his hands into his pockets. Lily's hand was still grasping the beans behind him, and she was staring at him, seemingly debating something. Feeling shy and awkward as she studied his face, James was staring at her left earlobe, noticing the freckle resting next to her small pearl earring.

"Don't worry about it," She mindlessly whispered, still looking intently at him. She seemed to be deep in thought and was not thinking about the words she was saying.

James was just surprised she wasn't showing any signs of being uncomfortable. He would've guessed that she would be yelling at him by now.

"So-uh- I guess we should get-" James cleared his throat as he reached for the door handle behind her. He was nervous under Lily's stare and was having a hard time keeping composure. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, and that honestly bothered him more than if she was yelling at him. At least he knew how she felt then, but he was entirely in the dark right now, "We should get going. The potion's probably been simmering for too long."

Lily blinked and shook her head as if leaving a deep trance. Suddenly embarrassed and blushing, she nodded her head and cleared her throat.

"Right," She said as James tried the door handle.

It didn't move.

He tried it again.

Nothing.

"Well, shit," James said, trying to jiggle the door handle again with both hands despite knowing it wouldn't work. She probably thought he did this on purpose (Which wouldn't be a terribly bad idea if James wasn't so afraid of her), "It's locked."

Lily's eyes widened in a panic, and she promptly turned around, trying the door handle for herself. When it inevitably didn't work, she turned back around and sighed as she leaned against the door, looking up. She groaned and brushed the hair out of her face.

"I forgot that Slughorn keeps it locked," She said, still huffing, "Normally, it doesn't matter because he just keeps it open, but..."

James felt his pockets for his wand and remembered he left it on the desk, "You haven't got your wand, do you?"

Lily looked down as she felt her own pockets, looking back up as she shook her head.

It was then, at the sight of a dishevelled Lily Evans, that James realised that he was locked in a closet with her, and he had a hard time remembering why this was such a bad thing. He tried to shove out the thoughts that entered at the way she looked dishevelled and breathing heavily. The things he would do to be the one making her look like that...

"Sorry, Evans. I feel partially responsible for this predicament," He shook his head, trying to regain self-control. What was he thinking? This was Lily Evans he was thinking about. The girl who never failed to let him know just how much she wanted to strangle him at any given moment.

She said nothing, instead resumed studying his face. He sheepishly messed up his hair, unsure what to do with his body under her gaze.

"Oh, Christ, James," She said in annoyance, biting her lip softly.

"What did I do? I didn't know about the lock!" James said defensively, finding it odd that she was just now getting mad at him.

She rolled her eyes and just looked at him.

"Fuck it," She said, and before James could form a confused expression, her hands were pulling his neck forward, and her lips were being slammed against his.

"What the fuck?" James said, shock widening his eyes as he pulled away slightly. He clearly was baffled beyond logical thinking and reason because Lily would be shoved up against the door if he were thinking clearly. There was no way that Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans that swore she wouldn't ever go out with him not even nine months ago, had just kissed him. Passionately, at that.

"Are you complaining?" She asked, a soft smirk resting on the lips that James was just kissing.

"What-No? Of course not, I just-"

"Then shut up," She whispered, feeling her way from his neck to his tie, which she pulled him forward with so their faces were close again, "And give me a good snog."

"Yes, ma'am," James smirked and tilted his head, pushing her against the door and kissing her firmly without a second thought.

[sunder-soul]

I’ll start off by saying I adore this blog due to how amazing ur writing is & how active u r, it makes me so happy. I’m hoping you could write some tom smut where he’s the virgin & the reader (preferably a hufflepuff) is the experienced one? (cause I really can’t imagine Tom being popular or caring about sex in hogwarts). Like I can just imagine him having no idea what to do & letting the reader take in control and he’s highkey loving every minute of it (like he’s secretly just a sub).

You cannot imagine the effect this had on me. I… I am a changed person.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

Nox

Summary: You’re trapped in a closet with Tom Riddle playing Seven Minutes in Heaven. What happens in the dark, stays in the dark. Word count: 4.8k Content warning: explicit sex scenes. Underage drinking I guess?

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

PART II HERE! 💖

It had taken some convincing to get you to come to the party, but you’d have to admit that it had been more fun than you’d expected – the Slytherin common room was the perfect place for a post-Quidditch game blow out, hidden away under the lake where the Professors wouldn’t hear the music blasting from enchanted gramophones, the creepy light filtering in through the tall glass windows leading into the dark waters of the lake giving the perfect background under the dim green lanterns illuminating the party.

You’re drunk on Firewhisky that a group of cheeky-faced seventh-year Gryffindor boys brought to bribe their way inside, and by the time the party is winding down at around two in the morning you’re laid out across Ruth Willows’ lap on one of the black leather couches by the fireplace, giggling and very unwilling to move.

“Alright you two,” one of the Slytherin boys you don’t recognise says, smirking. “Clear out – this is strictly Slytherin territory again.”

“Aww, come on, Hartley,” Ruth says teasingly, “don’t tell me you’re done for the night – out-partied by a couple of Hufflepuffs, are you?”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Willows,” Hartley says seriously, pointing at her.

You sit up, the room spinning around you in a pleasant, warm way. “We can take you,” you say cheerily, resting your head on Ruth’s shoulder.

There’s a smattering of laughs from the circle of lingering party-goers – You and Ruth are the only Hufflepuffs left, but there’s a couple of Gryffindors too, and you recognise some sixth-year Ravenclaw boys whispering to each other next to the fireplace.

“A game, then,” Hartley declares, looking around the circle with a grin.

“A game!” you and Ruth echo cheerfully, lifting your drinks.

“Alright, who’s playing? Scott? Peters? How about you, Avery?”

You glance over your shoulder to the far corner of the Slytherin room at the only group left in at the party – the gaggle of Slytherin boys who had spent the whole evening sitting at the circular table looking disapprovingly at the revelry as they sipped their drinks and evidently thought themselves far too mature for such nonsense. You share an amused look with Ruth.

“No thank, you,” Avery says aloofly, turning up his nose.

“Too good for a bit of fun, are you?” one of the Gryffindor boys snickers.

“They’re just trying to show off,” another smirks back, “think they’re acting all grown up and responsible –”

“I’ll join you,” says a very unexpected voice.

The whole circle looks around in shock. Tom Riddle has stood from the table and approaches the couches, his acolytes staring after him looking surprised. “What are we playing?” Riddle asks pleasantly, taking a seat on the couch opposite you – Ella Scott from Slytherin scrambles to the side to make room for him looking like she’s just won the lottery.

“That’s the spirit, Riddle,” beams Hartley, “not like those hoity-toity friends of yours, are you?”

Riddle smiles with far too much charm as he laces his arm over the back of the couch and crosses one long leg over the other, his Slytherin boys sliding into spare places around the circle and casting him perplexed looks of surprise.

“So?” Ruth asks expectantly, grinning at Hartley. “What’s the game?”

“Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Hartley smirks.

The circle erupts; the Gryffindor boys whoop with cheers as the Ravenclaws groan and roll their eyes, and you laugh softly as your head rolls back against Ruth’s shoulder, the alcohol still making the room spin slightly.

“I don’t know this game,” Riddle says quietly through the cacophony – though everyone seems to hear him with ease all the same.

“It’s the best game ever invented,” the first Gryffindor boy grins – you think his name is Rory but you can’t remember his surname. “When it’s your turn, you spin your wand on table and whoever it points to has to spend seven minutes with you in the broom closet.”

“What is the point of that?” Riddle frowns.

There’s a smattering of snickers and Riddle’s frown vanishes at the sound, his face going strangely blank.

“Making out, of course,” Rory smirks, “catch on, Riddle.”

Riddle’s face remains expressionless but there’s a coldness to it that the others don’t seem to notice as they continue to chuckle quietly. He clearly doesn’t like being laughed at.

“Who’s going first?” you say quickly, looking around the circle to distract them.

“Hartley’s the one who suggested this, he should start,” a Slytherin girl (April…? Avril…?) smirks.

“Only because Willows goaded me!” Hartley accuses, pointing at Ruth.

“I’ll happily go first,” Ruth says with an easy smile, “since Hartley’s too chicken.”

There’s a low murmur of amusement as Hartley’s eyes narrow at Ruth leaning forward and spinning her wand on the table – only to explode into raucous laugher when it comes to a stop pointing directly at –

“Looks like you���ll be going first after all, Hartley,” Ruth says breezily, standing. “After you,” she gestures theatrically at the wooden door to the broom closet in the corner, and Hartley gets up from the couch looking extremely gobsmacked.

“Make sure you return him in one piece,” April/Avril snickers.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Ruth says without missing a beat, grinning as she slams the door to the closet shut behind them.

“Hufflepuff’s got a set of claws on her,” the other Gryffindor boy laughs.

“Badgers are a natural predator of snakes,” you sigh, lying back on the couch and throwing back your arms in a content dizziness. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”

You lie there listening to the group talk and laugh, the reedy music wheedling away in the background, and by the time the closet bursts open again it doesn’t feel like any time has passed at all – though perhaps that’s the alcohol talking.

“And that,” Ruth exclaims, falling back onto the couch beside you, “is how it’s done.”

“How’s Hartley?” you ask her, laying your head back on her lap.

“He’ll never be the same,” she says smoothly, inspecting her nails.

The group is still laughing when Hartley sits back down on the floor beside the table, his hair dishevelled and his expression rather shell-shocked.

“Have fun mate?” Rory smirks, clapping him on the shoulder.

Hartley nods blankly, and the laughter only grow.

“Alright then, who’s next?” Ruth says loudly, looking very pleased with herself.

The turn passes counter-clockwise, and April/Avril gets landed with one of the reluctant Ravenclaw boys before Edgar Peters spins Rory. Scott casts Tom next to her a very unsubtle hopeful look before she spins her wand, but when it lands on Lestrange she has the good sense not to look too disappointed.

“Alright Riddle,” Rory grins, his arm now around Edgar’s shoulders (who is blushing violently). “Your turn.”

There’s something strangely blank about Tom’s face as he leans forward and sets his wand on the table, and you let your head loll to the side to watch with interest as Tom’s long, pale fingers deftly spin his wand. You cast an eye around the circle and fail to hold in a laugh; nearly everyone is watching in utter rapture, mostly leaning forward expectantly. Your laugh is drowned out by the noise that erupts across the group when Tom’s wand comes to a gradual stop pointing directly at your face.

“Is that me or you?” you ask Ruth languidly, looking up at her from her lap.

“That’s you,” she smirks down at you, “I’ve had quite enough Slytherin for one night.”

“Alright then,” you sigh, sitting up and stretching before swinging your legs off the couch and sprightly standing.

Tom is looking up at you blankly, unmoved from the couch.

“Well come on then,” you say in amusement, waving your hands at him. “The clock doesn’t start until the door shuts, you know.”

Riddle blinks and then smoothly stands, and you totter around the couch and stroll towards the door to the closet, still buzzing from the Firewhiskey. Riddle follows you silently, not looking at you as you hold the door open for him.

“Have fun!” someone shouts from the couches to general giggles.

You roll your eyes and let the door fall shut. Darkness and utter silence immediately falls, and you realise at once that at least one of the previous players has cast a muffling charm on the door to stop any potential eavesdropping.

“Lumos Volant,” you murmur.

A little ball of warm yellow light springs from your wand and hovers happily above the two of you, casting the inside of the closet into view – it’s small and cramped, a table stacked with boxes of books and old parchments beside you and shelves crammed with all sorts of things on every wall, hedging you in. Tom is standing in the middle of the closet, his dark, even gaze on you. There’s something suddenly very funny to you about the fact that he’s still wearing his uniform, impeccable as always.

“I thought lights were not permitted,” he says quietly.

You lift yourself up onto the edge of the table, feet swinging slightly. “I thought we might talk for a moment,” you say casually, looking around the closet.

Tom hesitates. “Talk?” he asks slowly.

“You’ve not done this before, have you?” you ask him, meeting his gaze with a tilt to your head.

“I believe I made it quite clear that I’m unfamiliar with the rules of this –”

“Not the game,” you interrupt, shaking your head with a soft smile. “This.” You gesture between the two of you.

Silence returns. Tom looks at you with an impenetrable expression as you wait for his reply, your feet still swinging lightly.

“And why would you think that?” he eventually asks, very evenly.

You shrug. “Just my read on you, I suppose. Am I wrong?”

Tom just leans back against the shelves, his hands pushing back his robes and sliding into the pockets of his slacks. For the first time you take a moment to appreciate exactly how good-looking he is; the black waves of his hair, the high cheekbones, the elegant curve of his lips – and the naturally regal quality of his features only augmented by the calm composure he always seemed to radiate. It was easy to see why he’d been made prefect, why Slughorn always fawned over him, why everyone said that he’d be Minister for Magic one day.

“You know, we don’t have to do anything,” you say conversationally.

Tom arches one of his dark brows. “What do you mean?” he asks in wry amusement.

“A stranger in a closet at a party?” you smile. “With a time limit, no less… Not exactly a very romantic setting.”

“I’m not a romantic,” Tom says lightly, looking away.

“No,” you say quietly. “You’re not, are you?”

Tom’s eyes flash to yours. For a moment you think you see something almost annoyed in his eyes, like your comment rubbed him the wrong way, and then the look is gone and his attention returns to the closet. “Your read on me appears to be quite extensive,” he says distinctly.

You laugh. “Does it bother you to be so transparent?”

His lips curve into a rather unsettling smirk. “Transparent,” he echoes, looking up at the ball of light floating above. “I must say, that’s a first…”

“You don’t like being laughed at, do you?” you say nonchalantly. “Specifically when you’re being excluded – oh! Is that why you spend so much time with those horrible blood supremacists even though you’re a half-blood?”

Tom’s eyes narrow on you and his smirk vanishes immediately. Something sharp has taken over his face, and you think that perhaps if you hadn’t drunk so much Firewhiskey, you’d find it scary.

“You tell those boys what to do, don’t you? They listen to you even when they don’t want to – Avery didn’t even want to play tonight but he followed you the second you came over. Are you in control all the time?” you ask curiously. “Is that why you dress all…” you wave a hand at his absolutely perfect uniform, shoes charmed to a shine, hair set into tidy waves, Slytherin tie dead straight and his prefect badge gleaming on his robes. “Well anyway, I suppose that would explain the grades, too.”

“Extensive indeed,” Tom breathes, tone very cool. “Is there more?”

“Yes,” you smile, holding the edge of the table lightly. “I don’t think you’re one to be coerced into doing something you don’t want to do.”

“Is that so?” Tom asks icily.

You nod. “Which means you want to be here.”

“I’m regretting it already.”

“You are not,” you scoff, “or you would have left.”

“I’m considering it,” he snaps.

“Come here.”

Tom’s expression falters, his brow furrowing. “What?”

You lift a hand and motion him closer with a casual wave. “Come here,” you repeat softly.

Tom huffs disapprovingly and looks away. “If I were really so transparent you would know not to give me orders,” he says coolly.

“Tom.”

His eyes find yours immediately, and you tilt your head again. “I’m not ordering you,” you say quietly, “I’m inviting you.”

Tom frowns slightly, something very calculating about the way he looks at you in the ensuing silence. After a long moment, Tom gently pushes off the wall and takes three slow steps towards you, stopping a respectful distance from where you’re sitting on edge of the table, his hands still in his pockets.

You smile, amused. “Closer.”

The blankness has returned to his face. You wonder if perhaps that’s how he looks when he doesn’t know how to look.

Tom takes the final step towards you, just barely brushing your knees, looking down at you with impenetrable eyes. You slowly reach forward and gently take his wrists, pulling his hands from his pockets and placing them lightly on your thighs. Tom doesn’t react, he only keeps his eyes on yours, his hands utterly still where you’ve placed them. You let your own remain on top of his as you look up at him, watching his face curiously as you gently guide his hands to push your knees apart.

He blinks, the barest flicker of his eyelids, a seemingly involuntary reaction – but that was what you’re looking for. Something beyond the composure. Something out of his control.

Slowly, you glide your hands up his forearms, keeping your eyes on his face and watching for his reaction. You can feel his warmth through his robes, his body beneath the impeccable layers of his uniform, your touch traveling up to his shoulders, down across his chest, and in a single, unbroken motion you lace your fingers around his tie and pull gently.

Tom’s eyes flicker again, but he lets you pull him down towards you, smooth and slow, and you feel anticipation thrumming in your chest as he gets closer, those dark eyes fixed on yours, his expression still blank and inscrutable. He’s less than an inch from your lips when you stop. Tom pauses at once, bent to you with his hands still resting on your thighs, your knees brushing against his hips. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath warm on your face.

“Are you quite sure I can’t order you around?” you ask softly, leaning up and very gently pressing your lips right next to his mouth. Tom exhales slightly, his eyes closing. You smile and then press your lips up against his neck, right in the most vulnerable point under his jaw. “I think you might like it,” you murmur against his skin.

Satisfaction curls in your stomach when you feel his fingers press ever-so-slightly harder into your thighs. “What would you have me do?” Tom asks quietly, and he’s almost entirely successful at concealing the slight thickness in his voice – but not quite.

“I’d have you move those hands of yours,” you say softly, your lips trailing back up his jaw. “I didn’t put them there to stay still.”

Tom exhales again, tense and measured, and then very slowly his hands slide up your thighs. His hands are warm and reserved, travelling to your hips as you press your lips against his pulse point and listen to his breathing, the deliberateness of it, the brittle tension in it. Tom is trying very hard to remain in control.  

You pull away and Tom’s hands fall still on your waist. His eyes have gone hooded and dark, and a flutter of excitement swells in your stomach at the sight. “Keep going,” you say quietly, gently pulling on his tie again, bringing him down to your lips and holding him there, barely a breath away.

Tom hesitates only for a second before his hands start to move again, sliding up your waist, your ribcage, the side of your chest – you nearly smile at how obvious he’s being at avoiding touching your breasts – up your collarbones, your neck, coming to a halt on either side of your jaw.

For a moment he holds you there, and you hold him there too, your hand on his tie anchoring him in place mere milimetres from you. His gaze is level but you can see the hesitation behind his eyes, feel the reservation in his hands.

“Nox,” you whisper against his lips.

The light above you goes out.

In the darkness, the warmth is all-encompassing, the sound of his breath louder, the heady, rich scent of him more potent, and the feeling of his hands on your skin more overpowering, and you lean without hesitation, kissing him slow and smooth, and…

Your stomach twists. He’s kissing you back just the same, restrained at first, hesitant like you were expecting, but when your arms slide up around his neck to pull him closer, drawing him into you, some of Tom’s restraint starts to falter. His hands against your face hold you more firmly, his breathing getting sharper, and his head tilts to the side to kiss you deeper. When you lock your ankles together behind him, the inside of your thighs pressing against his hips he breaks the kiss and you look up blindly into the dark.

“What?” you ask softly.

“I… you were right,” he says, still breathing slightly harder than normal. “I haven’t… done this before.”

“Do you want to?”

There’s a ringing silence. You frown in the dark. “You don’t have to, Tom.”

“You’ve already noted that I’m not one to be coerced into doing something that I don’t want to do,” Tom says smoothly, leaning back down to your lips.

“Right on that count too, was I?” you smile, kissing him again before he has a chance to reply.

Tom inhales and his hands pull your face closer to him, his mouth moving more insistently, and as you twist your fingers through the soft waves of his hair, you experimentally brush your tongue against his top lip. He immediately pulls away again and you laugh softly.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “too much?”

He hesitates. “I wasn’t expecting it,” he says evenly. Some of the restraint has returned.

“Shall I do it again? Now that you’re expecting it?” you ask with no small amount of amusement.

By way of reply Tom slowly leans in again and kisses you deeply, and then – exactly as you had done – his tongue traces your top lip, like he’s mimicking you. He is mimicking you, you realise as you kiss him back enthusiastically, he’s copying what you’re doing because he doesn’t know what else to do.

If you’re leading by example, then there’s only one thing for it.

You slide your hands from around his neck down his body, pressing your hands flat against his chest and sighing against his lips – he feels good. Down your hands fall, curving under his jumper, gently tugging his shirt from his trousers, and Tom is kissing you harder and harder, stepping in closer, a hand falling from your face and slipping around your waist to pull you closer to him.

Your fingers brush his warm stomach and Tom breaks the kiss again, his head falling onto your shoulder as you touch him, your hands travelling around his hips and up his back. His skin is soft and smooth, his body lean and warm, and you’re breathing hard yourself when Tom lifts his head again.

“Can I…” he says slowly.

“Can you what?” you breathe.

Tom slowly kisses you, full and open, his lips lingering when he pulls away. When he speaks, he’s so close that you can feel his lips forming the words against yours. “Can I touch you?” he murmurs.

You laugh softly again. “If you weren’t so opposed to being ordered around, I would have already told you to.”

Tom’s arm around your waist tightens and pulls you into another kiss, and this time when his tongue brushes your lips you reach up and take his other hand from where he’s still cupping your face, gently guiding it down your neck, down the swell of your chest – Tom’s breathing takes on that same brittle quality – down your hip, your thigh, coming to a stop where the hem on your dress rests just above your knees.

Your lips draw from his and there’s a ringing silence. Too quiet. You realise that you’re both holding your breath.

“Is this what you meant?” you ask softly.

Tom swallows, and he nods.

You kiss him again, sliding his hand up your thigh and under your dress. When you bring his hand up to the hollow where your thigh meets your hip, Tom exhales again, breaking the kiss as his head tilts down. “I… I’ve never…” he says slowly, swallowing again. “I don’t know what to do,” he finishes quietly, and you can hear the conflict in his voice, his pride battling with his desire.

“Would you like me to show you?” you murmur.

He takes a breath and nods again.

You guide his hand inwards, the touch of his fingers against the outside of your underwear making heat spread across your skin. Slowly, you push Tom’s hand into place and carefully press to curve his fingers. When he feels how wet you are Tom breathes out very shakily and then – to your surprise – his lips are against yours, kissing you as you move his fingers with your own, showing him what to do.

He’s a fast learner. Tom’s fingers slide gently against you, mimicking what you show him and kissing you the whole time – it’s too much very quickly, and you can’t keep yourself from moaning as searing pleasure burns at his touch, smothered by his kiss. Soon you draw your hand away, confident that he knows how to continue, and place your palm against his cheek to draw him closer into the kiss. Tom’s grip around you tightens, his tongue meeting yours, the pressure and speed of his fingers just barely increasing and making you gasp into his mouth.

“Like that?” he asks softly.

“Like that,” you breathe, your eyes squeezing shut as tension coils in your core. “Don’t… don’t stop…”

Tom’s mouth presses hot against your jaw and your head falls back automatically, his lips moving – just like yours had  – right on the vulnerable part under your jawbone.

You feel the pleasure hike, growing and growing, and then with your palm still flat on Tom’s cheek and your other curled into a fist around his tie, it hits you hard, gasping as the dark closet seeming to spin with lights for a moment before you slowly come down.

Tom slowly draws his hand from you, and over your own panting you can hear him take a long, tense breath that sounds suspiciously shaky.

“Now,” you say a little breathlessly, “it’s your turn.”

Tom is silent as you slide your palm down his neck, his chest, keeping one hand fixed around his tie as the other brushes his hip, slips under his shirt again and traces the top of his trousers.

With a small, sharp tug on his tie, Tom’s mouth is nearly against yours again and you hear his breath stutter. “Do you want me to touch you?” you whisper against his lips.

He swallows. Nods.

Your fingers curl around the button of his trousers, pull it open, and then slowly undo the zip. Tom reaches up and takes your face in his hands, taking another shaky breath as his forehead presses against yours, and you can almost imagine his eyes closing, the tension on his face, the wanting.

Slowly, knowing that you’re teasing him, you slide your hand against his skin just beneath the line of his trousers, feeling the flat warmth of his stomach, the sharp angle of his hip bone – Tom’s hands hold your face tighter and he’s trying to control his breathing as you push your hand lower, lower –

There’s a rap on the door that makes you both jump and you pull your hand from him quickly.

“Time’s up!” someone yells from outside, muffling charm broken. “That’s seven minutes!”

You suppress a laugh as you reach for your wand on the table next to you. Just when things were getting good… “Lumos Volant,” you say again softly.

From your wand the same ball of light erupts, and you freeze.

Tom is still standing in front of you, but he looks nothing like when you saw him last. The refined, impeccable, composed Tom Riddle has been replaced by a figure unlike any you’ve seen – Tom’s dark hair is tousled and curled, his eyes black with hunger, his lips slick and pink and his cheeks flushed. His tie hangs loose from his crumpled collar, his shirt untucked and his trousers still unbuttoned.

Worst of all is the way he’s looking at you.

Tom’s dark, ravenous eyes sweep over you in what must be the same way you’ve been looking at him, lingering on the sleeve of your dress fallen from your shoulder, the hem pushed up all the way to reveal your thighs where his elegant, pale hands are resting. Whatever he finds on your face catches his attention because his jaw tightens and he looks on the brink of leaning in again.

“We… should…” you say slowly, unable to look away from him.

He nods silently.

Neither of you move.

You clear your throat and force your gaze off his face, straightening your dress pointedly and standing. Tom’s uniform slides back into its usual perfection with a single wave of his hand, but as he moves to step past you, your palm flashes up and catches his chest. Tom looks down at you at once and your heart skips a beat at the heat in his eyes.

“Your… your hair,” you say sheepishly, nodding at it. “You might want to…” You reach up before he can and push your fingers through it, smoothing it out and returning it to its regular impeccable state.

Tom’s eyes don’t leave yours as you touch him, and your cheeks grow warm, pointedly not lowering your gaze to his as you work.

“There,” you say quietly, smiling at him as your hands drop.

He doesn’t step away. He just looks down at you.

Your face gets warmer still. “Listen,” you say softly, “do you… want to keep this between us?”

The barest hint of a frown appears on Tom’s face. “Why would I want that?” he asks evenly.

“I just thought you might,” you shrug.

His lips flicker into what might be called a smile. “Just your read on me?” he asks with the faintest brush of dry humour.

“So?” you smile, rolling your eyes slightly. “Would you like that?”

Tom’s expression falls sober. After a second he steps in a little closer and you can’t ignore the way your pulse spikes when he lifts his fingers and pushes your hair back behind your ear, so soft that you shiver. “Yes,” he says very quietly, “I would like that.”

You nod and quickly turn away before you can get distracted again, pulling the door open and humming absently as you step out. You know without needing to check that Tom is following you with that blank composure returned to his face.

“Oi oi,” Ruth calls, winking at you. “You sure took your time – longest seven minutes I’ve ever seen!”

“We just talked, Ruth,” you say with a wry grin, leaning against the back of the couch. “Tom is an excellent conversationalist.”

“Conversationalist?” she repeats, smirking. “Is that what they call it these days?”

“We should be going,” you say dryly, giving her a look. “It’s nearly three in the morning and we’ve got Apparating class tomorrow.”

“Merlin’s beard, if I don’t splinch myself it’ll be a bloody miracle,” Ruth mutters, standing. “Alright you lot, try not to do anything too irresponsible once we’re gone!”

You catch Tom’s eye as he sits back down on the couch, but both of you look away again.

“Good night lovely people!” Ruth calls gaudily, throwing an arm around your shoulders and leading you across the Slytherin common room towards the steps, “Oh – and Hartley.”

The circle snickers, and you chance one last glance over your shoulder at Tom – but he’s not looking at you. His eyes are fixed on the little table in between the black leather couches, on his wand resting there, still pointing at where you’d been sitting.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

PART II HERE! 💖

To request sequels/being tagged in follow-ups, leave a reply in the notes!  💖

[whitetherapy]

Reasons your dad doesn’t want you dating a black man (and why you should!)

You’ve probably noticed that even today, there is still a sort of “buzz” around interracial relationships in the white community. While not exactly taboo you find that interracial couples still tend to get certain “looks” especially from older white men.

Now I know what you’re thinking, your dad seems to fall into this category, your mind rushes to all those off-color, not so PC remarks you’ve heard him say over the years, there’s no way, surely he can’t be a racist... right? 

Well don’t worry! This post will help explain the motivations behind some of these attitudes and why the fact that they are so common in the white (mostly male) community is actually a big indicator of the desirability and benefits of interracial relationships.

4. Black men are more successful.

You’ve probably noticed since high school that black boys mature a lot quicker than their white counterparts. In fact black men tend to “tick off” a lot of milestones faster than white boys. They lose their virginity earlier, move out earlier, pass their driving test earlier... the list goes on. They also tend to be more positive, have more motivation and, naturally, have a lot more sex.

This means that white girls and black boys get into relationships a lot younger than a white dad might expect. This no doubt plays on his protectiveness, as he is worried that his little girl is growing up too fast, he may seem to be hesitant about letting her date. You should take his nervousness as a testament to the desirability of  black men as partners.

All in all this one’s relatively straight forward, if you want a more mature, exciting and positive relationship with a man who’s got his shit together, your best bet is to go black. 

3. Black men are more confident.

Assertiveness, Swagger, “BDE”, call it what you want but black men certainly got it and it shows. He’ll take control and make sure to give you what you need while not being afraid to handle fiery, passionate relationships. Whether he’s making you laugh or making you moan, his cool confidence will shine through reassuring you that you made the right choice. 

Your dad of course may not be very understanding of this, mistaking your boyfriend’s confidence for cockiness, perhaps feeling a little pang of dread as he thinks about his intentions with you. By taking every opportunity to show off how happy and healthy your relationship is, those worries should quickly disappear, he too will be able to see how safe you are in your lover’s big strong arms.

2. Black men are more dominant.

If you like men who know what they want and are happy to take charge then you’ll find a black man is ideal for you. He’ll treat you right, make sure you’re taken care of, and provide healthy masculine energy to your life and relationship. In the bedroom, he’ll have no problem being in control and won’t shy away from fulfilling any submissive fantasies you have. 

With the persistence of toxic (white) male culture in our society, it should come as no surprise that your dad may see your lover’s natural, effortless dominance as a threat. He may become insecure, to him, your relationship calls into question whether or not he’s still the “man of the house”. While this will no doubt cause much drama and undeserved headaches for you, it helps to support your boyfriend whenever he displays any sort of dominance over your dad. This is good practice for both,  and you can take comfort in the fact that your lover’s presence is helping him learn about healthy masculinity by showing him what a real man is.

1. Black men are more physically gifted.

It’s no secret that when in comes to height, athleticism and, shall we say, “length”, black men take the gold medal. Sexual compatibility and satisfaction is an important aspect of relationships that is too often overlooked by women. You’ll find sex with a black man to be a much deeper experience, you’ll find yourself feeling things you may not have felt before and finding it hard to keep your hands off each other. These new sexual adventures will no doubt also lead to a much stronger sense of intimacy between you and your partner, for a much more satisfying relationship overall.

As for your dad, you may be thinking “why in the world would he even be thinking about something like this?”. And you’d be right, it’s actually rather sad but the culture most white men grow up in has very creepy patriarchal ideas about men’s “ownership " of women's bodies. It does little good to be mad at him about it, he’s not entirely to blame, after all his upbringing was probably saturated with the influences of toxic masculinity and white fragility. To get to the point, these influences are what causes him to project certain unhealthy ideas onto your relationship, men tend to have very primitive views on sex so it’s easiest to explain these ideas in very basic biological terms. To put it simply: penis envy, a bigger (i.e. more masculine/dominant), blacker (i.e. foreign/different), cock is screwing his daughter and there is nothing he can do about it. That thought wraps his feelings of submissiveness into a neat little emasculating package, a package he gets to peek into it every time he thinks about your relationship.

In conclusion understanding that uncomfortable part of his psyche should help you realise that his qualms about your relationship are really self inflicted, silly little insecurities brought about by the antiquated culture he grew up in. There’s no reason to let it bring you down, after all, It’s not your fault that a bigger penis with a darker complexion is all it takes shatter your dad’s fragile masculinity.

[ssson-of-sparda]

Fathers Do Cry (DMC Vergil one shot)

Summary: Vergil remembers his last Father's Day with Sparda and doesn't really realise how similar to him he has become.

Tags: Father's Day special / DADGIL! / Vergil acting like a dad to Nero

Author’s note: I woke up this morning suddenly inspired. Doesn't happen very often so enjoy ;) ps: I just love Dadgil!

***

His big blue eyes staring without blinking, the child was observing his father sitting by the fireplace in the parlour. Full of admiration, he was detailing all the features of his serious face, all the details of his confident posture and all the different luxurious fabrics that made his purple finery and as he did, he repeated to himself, wished, prayed, that someday, one day, he would grow up to be just like him.          “Aren’t you going to speak, Vergil?” The father’s powerful voice asked as he finally acknowledged the boy’s presence with a small amused smile, wondering what brilliant thoughts were occupying his eldest son’s sharp mind this time.            “I made this for you, father.” With a solemnity that didn’t suit a five-years-old but that somehow fitted Vergil’s young yet wise spirit and his will to be perfect son in the eyes of Sparda, the boy handed a paper sheet to his father.         “ And what would that be?” The man said as he took his son’s gift. “It’s father’s day so … I made you a poem… or tried to.” The adorable embarrassment tensing the child’s traits in funny grimaces made the father's smile wider but Vergil, suddenly too preoccupied with the blue paint stuck under his fingernails, didn’t notice it as he didn’t notice the paternal pride and the love shining in his eyes.               “I thought your mother wanted you and your brother to make a gift together this year.” “ You know Dante” Vergil sighed. “He has no artistic talent whatsoever. He wanted to make you a wooden sword to play with us.”    “ That’s actually a very good idea.”  Vergil frowned; suddenly worried that Sparda would not like his gift and preferred Dante’s – if he had made one of course. “Except when the sword looks like two twigs glued together. You should have seen this, father. It looked ri.di.cu.lous.” Sparda laughed at his son’s attitude, finding amusement in this sibling rivalry. “Why don’t you read me your poem then?”              “ I learnt it by heart actually. The paper is for you to remember this day by … and also because I wanted to illustrate it. Look.” Vergil approached his father, seized the poem from his big hands and climbed on his lap to show him the delicate aquarelle he had painted around the lines. “Impressive. Did your mother help you with this?” Vergil shook his head. “No, I did it on my own. I used a book I saw in that old man’s house I often go to as a reference.”       “ The old academic that lives down the hill? I thought you found him boring.” Vergil shook his head again, furiously this time and with a serious frown. “That’s Dante. Me, I really like him. He teaches me a lot of things. And he has lots of books. It’s incredible.”

Sparda ruffled his son’s silver hair whose hairdo was always made in order to somehow mimic his, thinking what a promising young boy Vergil was. Maybe more promising than Dante to be honest – though he knew he shouldn’t think that.   But there was something that Vergil had that Dante lacked. Perhaps rationality beyond his age … or some kind of maturity … wisdom maybe? He couldn’t really pinpoint what it was exactly. All he knew is that it was something unique and special, just like his son, something that made Sparda certain that one day his eldest would grow up to be a great man, a man greater than him, a man worthy of the Yamato and capable of handling its burdening power.

“Can I recite my poem now?” Sparda smiled at the sparkle in Vergil’s eyes. “Sure.” The boy quickly took back his previous position in front his father, cleared his throat, put his hands behind his back and stuck out his chest.

Sparda listened to every word, fascinated and amazed by his little one’s talent and profoundly moved by all the love, all the meticulousness and the time he put in each line and in each word. “Oh Vergil. The world is not yet ready for someone like you.” The father said as he let a tear roll down his cheek. “Why are you crying, father?” Vergil worried. “Because fathers cry, my son.”

That day was the last time Vergil truly celebrated Father’s day for a few weeks later he had no father, no one to make poems to, no one to admire by the fireplace. Just a memory that he feared would sooner or later fade but that he would cling to dearly for as long as he could.

“Why don’t we bring flowers to Daddy’s statue in the park today?” Eva asked when Vergil was six, when Vergil was seven, when Vergil was eight only to be welcome by a heavy silence that was no longer hiding brilliant thoughts but a painful sadness. But each time he did as Eva suggested, maybe more for her than for him, maybe because he still loved and admired Sparda even if he had left him, maybe because he thought that his father might see him and smile from wherever he was now, the same way he had smiled when he had read him his poem on his last father’s day.

And that’s certainly why, more than three decades later, he was back in this park, on this very special day with a bouquet of purple peonies he had bought on his way here and a memory that never faded. A memory he could still recite.

"Whether the sun shines or the sky cries,                 Whether the day breaks or the night wakes,       My father always as a rampart stands Protecting my house with his bare hands.

He is strong, he is brave                 And the day he always saves.     A knight in cockroach armor     To scare my terror away."

Vergil scoffed at the lines, at the way they rolled off his tongue, finding them funny and childish and not worthy of a Blake or a Fielding at all unlike what he thought when he wrote them as a child. The over-confidence of youth probably.

“Did you just come up with that?” Vergil turned around to see Nero walking towards him with a smirk. A surprise but not a bad one. “Cause the rhyming sucks a little. I expected more of you.”                “ And I suppose you’re an expert in poetry now?”         “ I may read have read one of your books.” He said as he tapped the pocket of his marine blue coat hiding Vergil's most sacred book with pride. “You still have it I see.”     “Hey! It’s a real page turner! Can’t get my nose out of it.” Vergil had a crooked smile, understanding perfectly what his son meant.

Son? Even a year after this reveal he still couldn’t believe this boy before him, the one he had lived such a terrifying yet incredible adventure with, was his own flesh and blood.

A sigh almost escaped Vergil’s lips. How did he make such a fine young man? Someone so selfless, so generous, so loving when he was nothing like that.              “ What are you doing here, Nero?” He asked, trying not to think more about this.      “ Well it’s father’s day, no? So … I made you something… or tried to.” The embarrassed grimace Nero suddenly made made Vergil’s smile grew larger but Nero, too worried to keep the gift covered with the pieces of newspapers he had taped together, didn’t see it as he didn’t see the paternal pride and the love shining in his father’s blue eyes. The same paternal pride Sparda had displayed when Vergil was a little child with a small paper in his hands.  “Thank you Nero.” The man said as he gently took the present from his son's hands, wondering what it was even though the long shape didn’t leave much place for imagination.

He cautiously unwrapped the thing, already feeling a happiness he hadn’t felt in years warming his heart. And when he saw a katana-like wooden sword that purposely looked like Yamato he couldn’t help but smile and let a tiny drop of water blur his blue eyes. “It was Dante’s idea. Though he might have suggested gluing two sticks together.” Nero said as he scratched his head. “It looks amazing.” Vergil’s honesty was like a knife in Nero’s chest but in a good way. It was as if all the stress and all the stupid fear he had felt while making this toy sword had been stabbed away. He felt relieved, joyful even that his always so stern father was genuinely grateful and seemed to appreciate his gift. “That way, you won’t have to tear my arm apart again cause look, you have two now.” Nero tried to joke but his words just erased the smile on Vergil’s face.

“There is not a single day I don't regret what I did to you.” This was Vergil’s way to say he was sorry. Nero was certain of it. He didn’t need to know his father that well to know it. After all, he was somewhat the same. “Hey, it’s in the past. Plus it grew back, so no harm done.” He winked, trying to ease the atmosphere with a bad pun worthy of Dante even though there was a time he would have ripped Vergil’s chest open for what he had done. And a part of him knew he would never forget and maybe never fully forgive what happened.               But right now he was just happy to have a family, to have a father and to finally be able to celebrate a day he has so long hated.  “ This world doesn’t deserve you, son.” Vergil solemnly declared. He had never called Nero that way and that name felt strange yet beautiful to both of them. It made the son and the father smile in ways they never thought they would smile at each other. “ Damn, are you crying old man? I thought devils never cry.” Nero suddenly harrumphed when he finally noticed the water growing in his father's eyes.                   “ Well, fathers do cry." Vergil declared as he allowed a tear of joy and pride to fall along his pale cheek. The first in a very very long time but one he will never regret or brush away. "Father do cry.” He repeated with a glance at the statue of his father behind him.

[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

[mingying]

[spoilers] hospital playlist s2 finale; ikjun/songhwa

We have reached the finale and I am honestly going through a whole lot of emotions right now. But there are definitely a few things I really want to talk about this beautiful ship of mine so please allow me to.

TL;DR: IkSong stays true to the fact that their relationship is firmly rooted in friendship, only that now there are no more lines to worry about and they are able to do things a tad bit more with each other.

I absolutely loved the IkSong scenes we got in E12. 

While I was perhaps a bit sad we didn’t get more of them showing skinship, such as say holding hands or even hugging or kissing, I realise that the beauty of their relationship does not lie in physical intimacy. Instead, their relationship is rooted in a love so quiet and mundane that you may not even realise it if you don’t know them well enough.

And well, in my opinion, that kind of love is honestly beautiful in their own way.

I loved how even though they’re with labels now, their interaction with each other is generally still the same. There’s no jarring change that is in your face, but things that they’ve usually done with each other but just packed with a little something extra that makes me as a viewer swoon.

1) Ikjun buys coffee for everyone and leaves one for Songhwa, but not before writing on the sleeve with a little heart -- this is indirectly to show that he was indeed the one to leave her two coffees at the end of Epi 2 and I simply love it.

2) Songhwa telling the boys that she is going on a date with Ikjun, that they really are dating -- only to be met with laughs and a complete disbelief that Junwan even bet his entire fortune. I laughed so hard, and I really hope Songhwa managed to get them to repeat what they had said because girlie, you and Ikjun are about to be the richest couple in Yulje.

3) Ikjun and Songhwa’s first date, which I noticed that Songhwa had first filled a plate of tangsuyuk for Ikjun first before herself. Even though she is generally impatient when it comes to food, being the food goblin she is, this small gesture she does to Ikjun is so heartwarming. It’s like she wants him to share a bit of her happiness (food) with him too, and that she is looking out for him as he always does to her. 

4) Songhwa singing a love song about a man she loves being right beside her and hoping he will always love her, to Ikjun, is something I truly loved to witness. And the best part was that Mido sang it in her natural, beautiful voice, because that scene was told through Ikjun’s POV and to him, she sounds perfect. His face honestly, at that moment, dear lord. He is truly so in love with her. (++ Iksun’s reactions are hilarious HAHA)

5) Seokhyung’s “I’m so happy for you guys, you really care for each other, you made the right decision, Songhwa-ya” will always live in my mind rent free. This feels really like how it all came to a full circle, right? How poetic it is that they had both IkSong and GomGom endgame in the same episode considering the circumstances in the 99z, and then have Songhwa finding out about Minha first, and then Seokhyung about IkSong? I truly, truly loved this scene so much.

6) That little shot of Songhwa staring at Ikjun with that smile on her face as she watches her sleep -- this is it. This is definitely her look of “I can now love this man however much I want because he is mine”. 

7) The sushi scene still makes me smile every time I think about it. They cringed at how they had to act all lovey dovey and it was so adorable to watch. A really realistic depiction of friends to lovers, too, don’t you think so? I mean, Songhwa has fed Junwan before and they are completely platonic so her not being able to do this to Ikjun just shows that it’s because she’s hyper aware this is supposed to be a couple gesture to do.Trust me, soon, you will be feeding each other without much thought and care once you get over this transitional phase. 

8) When Songhwa has had a rough day with her patient not going well, she went back to her room and found Ikjun resting there. Them lying side by side with the camera shot from above seems to give an illusion that they are lying on a bed so I’m going to take it as that haha. I loved that in this scene, they first start by asking about their surgery/patient. And then Songhwa shared with Ikjun that they have no choice but to declare the patient to be brain dead - and Ikjun was clearly distressed to hear that. I’m glad that as lovers, they are able to confide with each other their days and share their troubles and worries. To just be there for each other. This couple truly has reached that level of maturity and I’m so happy that from now on, they won’t have to hold back in sharing things with each other even more.

9) The camping scene was a surprise as I did not see it coming even though I did express my wish of another camping scene. Songhwa tried to stay awake just to continue talking to Ikjun but he realised she was sleepy - how cute? We then got a parallel of him contemplating in that brief moment about life but this time, he is smiling happily instead of forlornly/longingly. 

And the best part? They are sharing a tent together. To be that comfortable to sleep in the same tent together, well, my shipper self is obviously going to clown and say that they’ve probably already done more than just kissing.

Lord. Brb. I’m drawing up my gdoc as we speak ;)

[moon-lixie]

about a letter left to be found and a boy who disappeared into thin air.

word count: 2.046k

genre: slight angst

song: 말할 수 없는 비밀 (Secret Secret) - Stray Kids

I don't think any of you would be able to understand, not even if I sit down and speak all of my truths. Still, I think I owe an explanation.

With trembling hands he gathered his things, the notebooks filled with dreams spilling from the edges of every page, his favourite hoodies, the pair of bright red headphones he had since the beginning of high school.

From the open window a cold breeze came in and ruffled the slightly damp hair of the boy, paying special attention to the ends that were still clamped together due to the dampness.

He wasn't exactly in a hurry, but he still felt nervous and anxious, because even if it was almost impossible, at the back of his mind he was haunted by the idea of someone coming in and stopping him.

Moving quickly he reached down for the towel hanging around his shoulders and ruffled his hair a couple of times more until he felt satisfied.

First of all, I have no idea where I am going but know that I'm fine.

A loud sigh caressed his lips as it escaped, filling the room that he had always called his own, his little world nobody could disrupt because in between the forgotten comics and the piles of clothes sprawled here and there he had felt more at home than he has ever felt anywhere else.

Throwing the towel to the basket of dirty laundry at the end of the hallway, he finally finished everything he had to do, simply being left with staring at himself in the mirror and fixing the wild strands of hair that had been upset by the freshly washed hoodie hugging his torso.

He could barely muster a smile at his reflection, not because he was sad, but because it all felt surreal in a sense that left him wondering if it was still the middle of the night many years ago and the last years had been nothing but the hopeful dreams of his younger self.

Maybe it's a bit selfish of me to simply leave without a warning, but please understand that I want much more than this place could ever offer me.

He closed the front door of his house, locking it with the pair of keys his mother had given him once he turned twelve; they were still held together by the Pororo keychain he had bought one day after school with such an overwhelming excitement that made the memory pull at the corners of his lips.

It felt bizarre to walk away from the entrance of his home knowing that he was never really going to come back, that this was the last time.

Just like the very first time he had arrived there along with a moving truck packed with boxes and furniture, he felt breath leave his lungs at the sight of the white façade. It made him stop for a second and contemplate in utter silence.

Goosebumps coated the length of his arms once he turned around and kept moving forward at a steady pace, leaving his old bike behind as well.

Know that the decision to leave wasn't made in a haste, I've been thinking about it for long and now just seemed like the perfect time.

Mr. Kim lazily waved in his direction, gentle smile and downturned eyes with the familiar brown that reminded Jisung of his grandfather; maybe that's where he would go next, to visit his grandfather.

Without much thought he returned the sweet and familiar greeting, feeling a bit nostalgic when he thought back to all the summers that he had spent working with the man in his garden.

Back then a young Jisung had been happy to make a few bucks while getting to stay out all day in the yard playing with bugs and with the sun kissing the skin of his chubby cheeks and legs that weren't covered by his favourite pair of green shorts.

He couldn't help but wonder where had all that time run to because despite being the one who lived through it, he could barely make sense or when had he ended up where he was.

Time moved too fast and without a warning, it left everyone wondering.

It isn't easy to leave my whole life behind but it feels right, the mere idea makes me feel lighter because who knows who I'll get to be when I get to the end of my journey.

Perhaps I'll be braver, a little bit smarter, more mature, maybe even a couple of centimetres taller.

He could walk the streets with his eyes closed and still know where every bump and crack was in the sidewalk, he could still point where his old school was, where the closest convenience store stepped in his way and as usual tempted him to buy a snack even on those days were his pockets were empty and his tummy full.

From there he knew his way to everywhere else in town, he even knew how long it would take him to get to said places on foot or with his trusty bike.

It all felt too easy and familiar, too comfortable, and those things weren't bad at all but Jisung thought he had had enough of them. He craved discovering himself inside the walls of another place so foreign that every single one of his truths were only known by himself.

Was it silly? That he thought a change of scenery would make him a new person, one much more alike to who he truly was.

Sometimes talking to someone isn't enough, because you don't think they'll understand, you know they won't. That's why I never said anything about the deepest desires looming in my heart or the biggest fears that tied me down for as long as I can remember.

All the interrogations running leaps around his mind made him walk faster, filling him with the same dreadful excitement he felt every first day of school, one that mixed with nervousness and fear.

He wasn't sure if starting fresh would let him be someone whose fears didn't weigh upon his heart so harshly, he wasn't sure if he would get to be the person he had always wished he could be but he could only hope.

Hope had been what drove him this far and today he was giving it full control of where his feet moved to, control over how his next day would look like or where he would wake up the next day.

Never in his life had he felt more ready to wander around by himself.

But I guess, since I'm going, it's only fair that I try to sit down and talk to someone, hoping that they will understand even if my words are scarce and there will be nobody to talk back to at the end of this letter.

On the horizon the sun rushed to slumber, leaving a comforting lilac pooling around the clouds and making them stand out even more.

Night hovered over his shoulders making him breathe with much more ease because if there was something that portrayed hope and tomorrow with an uncanny resemblance and lack of effort, it was the night sky with its endless stars and its shining moon.

In his childhood days he had discovered that there was no better cure for uncertainty and a nostalgic heart than staring up at the night sky; there was something about it that made him feel like time stopped for an instance, that time wasn't quite as unforgiving while the veil of darkness covered everything.

If he could go anywhere he wanted —which he was already doing— he would wish to go to the sky, not the endless and uncertain space, but the idea of the sky that humans have in their ignorance, a canvas that goes no further than our eyes can see.

Ever since I can remember I've felt like there was a place for me somewhere out there, a place I always called home without knowing what it really was.

It wasn't like I didn't feel at home here, there was just a feeling in my chest that told me out there I could feel completely free in the way I've always craved.

For him it had always felt unfair, how everyone got to live and walk around without the things that kept him back. Of course when he grew older he understood that everyone had their own problems but sometimes that was easy to ignore when one's own darkness loomed around their heart.

He had spent many years wishing, praying to whoever was listening, that he could just be himself without the voices in his head and the uncertainties that made every single one of his steps be cautious.

Nobody seemed to have listened as years went by and things got harder, still, he never gave up and even though he could never really say that there was nothing else bothering him he could at least say that he had everything under control.

If time is unforgiving it also is healing, and for him it had healed many wounds that couldn't be seen.

Unknowingly I spent a lot of time wanting to go to that place, craving to find where it was.

Some years ago I understood that it perhaps wasn't a place but a version of myself that could bring such soothing feelings. That's where I'm going to, that's why I have no destination.

He wanted to believe that nothing had been planned, that his savings carefully stuffed at the bottom of his backpack had just been him being responsible about his money and having enough for the impulsiveness that one day had won over reason and had driven him to this adventure.

He wanted to pretend but it was stupid to do now, there was nobody around to judge him or question his motives, so there was no use in not being honest with himself.

Thinking back to all those evenings spent running around the small restaurant in which he had found a job, he could see that perhaps this plan had been many years in the making.

Unconsciously he had always been hoping for a moment like this, a moment of unadulterated freedom.

Hopefully I do get there, hopefully I get to be happy and everyone I left behind does too.

The journey to happiness, to authenticity, to being unapologetically himself, had taken him to the airport, another thing that wasn't as spontaneous as he had tried to make it seem.

Passport in hand and trembling self, the whiteness of the place and the various people walking back and forth made him realise that this was really going on, he was really leaving.

For the first time in his life overthinking had no place in his plans.

I wish to be who I am meant to and disappearing was perhaps the thing I had always been destined to do. A boy who disappeared into thin air, that's who I am, a boy with secrets that weigh down on my heart and that I'm unwilling to carry with me on this journey.

Approaching the desk he was met with a young woman, in her mid twenties or early thirties, sweet but practised smile covering her lips as she recited the words that he must've learned a long time ago when she first started working there.

"I want a ticket for the next flight available," Jisung said, offering a reassuring smile after the confused look the woman gave him.

He looked around as the sounds of typing filled his ears and before he had time to start regretting something the ticket had been placed on his palm and his savings were short by a considerable amount.

I'm afraid that wasn't much of an explanation but it was my truth.

Good luck and see you whenever we're meant to cross paths.

The last thing he saw before falling asleep were the clouds from above and the sky now completely dark like the many nights he had wondered where he belonged.

Now he had an answer, he belonged wherever he felt free and right then in that comfortable plane seat he felt the freest he had ever been.