#if you remember any specific words I'd be happy to look for it

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

Hello, it’s the same Anon that asked for the Finnick and Annie story swap and I don’t think that’s the right fic. I think it might have been on fanfiction.net.

Hey, sorry that wasn't it! Unfortunately I really don't read anything on ff.net and I don't know which particular story you're looking for.

If you remember any specific words from the title or description, I would recommend searching for those along with Finnick and Annie's names. Fanfiction.net usually pulls up results with those words present somewhere in the title or description (as opposed to ao3 where you can filter by tags). And since I don't know any words in the title or summary, it's pretty difficult for me to find it.

Here is the original ask in case anyone else knows of this fic!

Hopefully this helps, and good luck!

[x-reader-things]

Hello!I just stumbled upon your recent post about opening up commissions again. And it makes me happy you do Arcane!😅. Anyway I was maybe hoping for my request/suggestion.

Vi x female reader(She/her). It's just romantic of course!idk of you're comfortable with a single mother fem y/n?like reader already has the child it's ok to not do this!!

I just more so want some Vi x female reader where Vi gets out of Still water and going to find her onve teen girlfriend again baisvally a chess reunion between them

It's been a while since I've written a request, and anything for Arcane in that matter so I hope this isn't too ooc-

Anyways I love Vi <33333

"I trust her."

Vi x f!reader [could be easily read as gn!reader though too, no phsyical specifics about reader were described]

Summary ; In which Vi discovers you're looking after a kid.

Requested? ; Yes.

Warnings ; None, outside of a small description of an injury and some mentions of enforcers being awful.

Word count ; 1.3 k words.

——————————————————————

"You... have a kid?"

The small hellion behind you hid by your legs. He barely reached past your knees. A bit small for a five year old, but given the circumstances of Zaun... it was the norm.

You turned towards the kid, and placed a comforting hand on the top of his head. He visibly relaxed at the gesture, and tentatively peaked out to look at the strong woman in front of you both.

"Not my kid by blood, Vi", you told her with a forced chuckle. "You know me, I don't think I'd get with any of the guys down here in Zaun. Even here in the Firelights."

Vi took her gaze off of the kid, and settled her eyes on you.

"Well...", she started, her tone a bit tense. "It has been, what, seven years? Things change."

Except you, she hoped. Kind hearted, beautiful you. A light in the dark of Zaun and Piltover alike. At least, that's how she described you as when it was just her and Vander, talking about everything and nothing during one of the calmer nights before shit hit the fan.

"Not always", you replied. You kept your voice calm, and careful. A habit you've made for yourself whenever the Firelights let in someone new. It kept the children the group took care of calm, and kept the adults from lashing out. You did that because you had no idea what the newcomers had been through. Be it their addiction to Shimmer, loss of a loved one, or the brutality of an enforcer.

You had to make sure there was a level of trust. And stars know how you needed to keep that up with Vi, with everything she's been through at Stillwater. Keep a level head. Don't let all your old emotions and memories resurface to the cracks you painstakingly had to fill.

Especially with the little guy near your legs, who had begun to stare tiny daggers at Vi.

"This little guy--", you began, voice straining with a bit of effort while you hauled him up to your hip. "--is still new here. Kind of. Won't leave my side, not that I mind. Scar said it was like I was... reverse adopted or something like that."

You smiled wryly at the thought. "I figured why not take him under my wing? Help him acclimate and get used to it here. I had extra space in my room too, so it all worked out."

A small smile pulled at the corners of Vi's mouth. You were still just as kindhearted as when you both were teenagers. Still lovely.

Good, she thinks. That's good.

"So... not your kid then, bird?"

The nickname fell so seamlessly off her tongue. A nickname she gave you because during your little exploits up to Piltover, whenever it was just you and her, you practically flew around the buildings. You had told her it was because you had a good teacher to help you. If Vi remembered correctly, that was around the time of her first kiss with you.

She said you were amazing, you said you had a good teacher and gave her the softest eyes she could ever imagine and then...

Well, your glance away from her said it all. You remembered it too.

She missed you so much.

Clearing your throat, you continued. "No, no, he's still my kid. Best kid all around - and I will be biased, 'cause he's a great helper, isn't that right, Clay?"

Clay, the boy in your arms, nodded. He still glowered at the woman in front of you.

"Doesn't seem like he likes me all that much", Vi said. She shoved her hands back into the pockets of her jacket, and took a small step forward. Clay leaned back into you defensively, and a small arm wrapped around the front of your shoulders. Vi raised a brow at that. A curious one, rather than the usual judgemental one.

You adjusted your hold on the five year old, one hand raised to his back to keep him stable on your hip. Your other hand moved to his arm, and gently pried his hand off of your shoulder. You let him keep a hold on your hand to mess with it, an action you were used to doing by then. Over time you had found out the kid was tactile, and hated being left alone for too long.

"He doesn't trust people he doesn't know too well. Gets quiet, too. Plus you were hauled in here with a bag over your head and got tied up before Ekko found out it was you, and not some other piltie, so...", you shrugged. Vi huffed out a wry laugh.

"Figures. I wouldn't trust me either, kid", she said to Clay. Clay blinked at her, the sharpness in his eyes reducing the slightest bit.

"Vi, here, isn't like those pilties though", you said to him. "She's not like those enforcers from what happened, kiddo. Can't say much for that friend of hers, but Vi's trustworthy. You alright if I show you?"

You held out the hand he was playing with, and opened it with your palm facing up, as if you were offering your hand over to Vi. Clay glanced in between you both, and regarded Vi with a careful scrutiny. When he saw the care in your eyes, and the calmness in both of you, he quietly spoke.

" 'Think so."

"You sure?", you asked. Vi swears your voice got ten times more gentle, ten times more sweet. Although, that could be the nostalgia talking. Nonetheless, it was still there. "I don't wanna do something you're uncomfortable with, bud."

" 'M sure."

"Alright." You nodded at him, and your eyes went back to Vi. Your hand still remained outstretched towards her, a quiet beckon for her to take it into her own. Just like you've done dozens of times before this, when you were just teenagers. Just kids.

Your eyes traced over her. Took in every new scar, every new tattoo and muscle. Her hands were infinitely roughed up, even with the bandages over them. However, it was still her. Still Vi.

Your Vi.

Changes or no changes, she was still the person you grew to love years ago. And hopefully, she still understood that silent plea in your eyes to hold her hand.

Vi's eyes, the softest of powder blue, went gentle. The bags under them still sagged, but the weight of them lightened. Almost tentatively, she raised her hand to yours.

The briefest of touches, her fingertips to yours, sparked with static. Vi flinched her hand away at first, and shared a laugh with you at how sudden it was. But after that, her hand slipped right onto yours.

You squeezed her wrist, and she did the same. You turned her hand over, so that her own hand was laid out, palm up, and raised it just a bit so that Clay could see it better.

"See? She's not so bad", you mumbled. "Rough around the edges, sure, but everyone is. Vi won't hurt you, and she won't hurt me."

Clay stared at Vi's hand, and listened carefully to your words. He reached down, and placed his small hand onto the bandages covering Vi's palm.

The sleeve on his jacket rose up, showing the bandages wrapped around his own wrist. An injury from a harsh scrape he got from running away from an enforcer. By the time you and a few firelights found him, it was already infected. Luckily, back there at the Firelight's tree, there were enough antibiotics there to help. And luckily, he was healing.

Vi and Clay looked up at each other. The tension pulling at Clay's shoulders dropped some, and Vi just gave him a small nod.

"See what I mean, Clay?" Your thumb brushed against her wrist, moving slowly in a crescent shape against her skin. A habit you used to have, years ago. "She won't hurt us."

You gazed back into her eyes. Longing and love and hurt swirled behind them. Tapered down, but still there.

"I trust her."

I missed you.

[incidentallysunny]

Through The Skin

Real Uncle!Leon

Dead dove warning.

7k word count. Proof read lightly. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

I'd like to appear in the tagz pls so here's a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing fxcked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don't be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.

Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, age-gap, overall just some disturbing topics.

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, public female oral-recieving, Leon has dick piercings surprise, make and female oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, spitting, any probably some other irrelevant shit I'm forgetting my bad.

PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it's a long one.

To be quite frank, you didn’t give a shit about a single holiday party that your parents threw. Having to hug and touch on people you didn’t even know, putting on a fake smile and pretending as if you remembered them at all. Exhausting for a young woman to keep up this charade for so long. You’re sure your relatives noticed the dying spark in your eyes over time. Living Growing does that to a person. You spent all night fetching beers and other pre-packaged, alcoholic drinks- hoping he would show up every time you had to hand one out. Still one less face you’re can be enthralled to see.

You sat at the dining table, leaned onto an elbow with your face in your palm. Clearly a dejected and annoyed pose but everyone here was too cheery or already deep in the ‘special occasion’ wine bottle to even piece that together. Your other hand traced the ringed patterns in the wood surface, wondering how old it had been before it was chopped down ruthlessly by some hot guy with a chainsaw who was getting paid way too much to be fucking up nature left and right. All so that some college-aged girl could sit at the furniture it had been made into and sulk. God, an almost 40 year old tree. That’s pretty fucking old. You’re glad it lived a somewhat long life (in human years, not tree years.) ‘Cause some trees live a few hundred or even thousand years. So maybe it was taken too soon before it became the placeholder for your familial drunken talks. While you were distracted, annoyed, and pitying yourself, the table all erupted into ‘Hey, long time no see!’s , laughter, and other delightful sentiments that were jolly and deafening enough to make you jump. Loud noises weren’t your thing.

Before you could regain your composure and turn your torso in the hand-carved, deep-brown varnished chair- a hand graced the presence of your slumped shoulder.

“Hey, babydoll. Long time no see.” The voice greeted, husky and rough like a patch of concrete you’ve definitely scraped your knee on a time or two. Basically, it was familiar, which is what you’re getting at.

Uncle Leon.

You turned your full body now, swinging your legs to the side of the seat- a few laughs slopped from the table.

Everyone knew how much you loved and fawned over your Uncle- your dad rivaling how much you seemed to prefer his brother over him. Well duh, dad. It’s because he’s fun and you’re a hard-ass. And ugly to look at. Your poor, poor mom.

It had been years since you saw your uncle. Since you were freshly 18, to be exact. Your dad wasn’t too keen on having him around his barely-legal daughter- probably because he could practically smell it on you that you want your uncle to pop your cherry. You still remembered his few quirks, too. He was always sloppy yet casually drunk wherever he was, he hated fireworks (due to PTSD as your dad explained), and he had always been known to be grabby with people- probably because of the alcohol. He was a weird guy, but you loved him all the same. It broke the normalcy of your home and made things interesting to be around him. However- none of this was the focus. His stubble, dark-liquored bags under his eyes that almost resemble eyeliner, and dark-tinted hair were. And god, his chin. Could be a replacement for a Sybian, if you had one. All of that aside, he looks sexy. That’s so fucking weird to say about your dad’s brother, but calling it weird is also so outdated. Fucking your hot, middle-aged uncle is in; getting a boyfriend your age is out.

You stood up swiftly, hugging him tightly around the waist and almost toppling him. He chuckled, steadying himself with one arm around your back and the other on the table to catch himself. Once he felt he was steady enough, the other arm joined around you- the embrace squeezing you like a stress ball. You worried that your eyes might be a little more loose in your skull than before.

“Gotta be careful, kiddo. You’re gonna take down your uncle one of these days.” He teases, moving out of the hug and letting his hands explore their way down your back- resting on the small of it. Digits perched like a bird where your back starts to curve into your ass- not sweetly or gentle- but like one of those huge-taloned hawks that would rip your flesh off. You only say that because his hands are big and rough- and you’ve heard stories of what your uncle does for work (plus the alcohol is making him need to stabilize himself so he doesn’t crash you both into the nearby counter and cause any serious brain injury. At least then you could excuse the bubbling of strange feelings as TBI). Oh, and with how handsy he was known to be (Just ask your Aunt Claire on your mom’s side). But he had never been that way with you- not until now.

You see your dad eyeing him like the same kind of big-taloned hawk from across the table. They’re cut from the same feathers- except your dad must have been the one that never learned to fly. Pushed out of the nest by a sharp shove of a beak and bit every branch of the ugly tree on the way down. Cause he’s a lot weaker and uglier than your uncle. How he pulled your mom is a miracle and a mystery.

“Hey, uh. Honey. Come sit back down. No need in playing into your uncle’s fashionably late, drunken stupor.” He quips towards you while grilling Leon about being late, nursing his own drink with that ugly grin. You roll your eyes. Leon removes his hands from you- putting them up in defense of himself and leaving your back with an empty feeling.

“Hey, hey. Just hugging my beautiful niece.” He turned to address you again. “Been years since I’ve seen you, sweetheart. Look even better than your momma.” You feel a blush creep up at Leon’s words, but your dad clears his throat and your mom pays him no mind. Just an eye roll and sip of a wine cooler. To be honest, even she probably fucked your uncle. You couldn’t blame her if she did.

You huff and sit back down, crossing your arms. Your dad always had to ruin everything. If you fuck your uncle or kiss him or whatever and don’t like it, you can just go to therapy. Leon snickered behind you, patting your shoulder before leaning in next to your ear.

“Come join me out on the deck in a bit. I’m sure you’re tired of being smothered in here with the fun police.”

You feel muggy from his words. Like a Louisiana swamp type muggy. Is your hair sticking to you? Are there zika-virus bearing mosquitos pricking you or is that just undiagnosed anxiety?

You bounce your leg under the table while you hear the sliding door open and close in the distance. Minutes pass of you twiddling your thumbs- and you excuse yourself to sneak off- exiting out the same heavy sliding door that Leon used.

When you sealed it behind you- the smell of whiskey filled your nostrils- sizzling off any hairs that your nose so proudly grew for much needed germ-protection. A hand slapped itself gracelessly onto the glass above you in the dark, trapping you in place. Predictable uncle.

“Shit, sorry sweetheart. Lost my footing. Y’know how it is. I’m always taking spills here and there.” You felt giddy and blistered all over, speaking back to him.

“S’okay. Sorry about dad.” You excused, breathing in. Leon’s other hand patted you low on your hip as he chuckled into your ear- sending off more whiskey breath.

“It’s okay, sweet thing. Your dad can be that way. I’m not exactly safe to be around in his eyes. Besides, he’s just doing his job- looking out for his little girl.” He explains, not making any efforts to move. You predicted this- but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Why’s that?” You dare to ask, sounding purposefully puzzled- but Leon knows better. And you know the answer.

“It’s ‘cause your Uncle likes ‘em young and pretty.” He mulls the information over you, the words sliding down you like a vibration that sets off a perfect sensation to your already throbbing clit. Because you’re always horny. The hand on your hip now kneads your ass under your skirt- somehow getting there without notice.

“O-oh.” You choke on the word like it’s quicksand in your throat- but only the quicksand is the prospect of having your uncle plow you until you develop early onset dementiaSo really, the quicksand isn’t bad in this instance. You jump into it face first for a good mouthful.

“Shouldn’t be wearing something so short when you know your dirty old uncle is coming over. Can’t keep my eyes where they’re supposed t’be.” He mutters low, leaning down to tickle the shell of your ear with his voice.

“Knew you were coming over. I wanted to look pretty for you.” Saying it makes your head spin, but like in the good way. The sound Leon makes is between a groan that says ‘good god, I’m going to bury my cock inside you right the fuck now’ and ‘I figured as much’. A simple cocktail of horniness and knowing.

“Mm, just want to kiss you everywhere, you know? Love it how sweet you are.” He murmurs into your scented hair, using the hand from the wall to push aside any strands that are in his way. He kisses the back of your neck and his breath scorches your skin. The affection is sloppy and leaves small bits of saliva behind, his barely-darting-out tongue making you ache even more.

“U-uncle.” You shuddered, a slight protest to your voice. Not ‘cause you don’t like it but because you’re worried someone will see. Or that you’ll never want off of his dick. He can be your personal IUD, all buried in your cervix.

Leon ignored the shared thought that someone could see because the way you referred to him made his dick jump in his jeans. Plus, the whole family knows he’s a sleeze. They’d see him balls deep in you and say ‘Ah, that’s Leon for you’ And look the other way until his next sexual prospect. One of the many reasons that Aunt Claire doesn't visit and Aunt Ada divorced his ass. Her loss. You’d happily share him if it were you. It’s only right to share a man that looks like a washed-up pornstar. His dick is great too. Not ‘cause you’re guessing- but because you saw it one time. Last time you saw him actually- the whole incident that left you wanting to see him again oh-so-badly. He had stumbled in the bathroom to piss- ignoring you at the sink. It’s whatever, he was totally wasted and probably didn’t see you. Nor did he probably see the fact you were gawking at his big dick. Or his nice ass, cause he had let his pants drop completely in his hazy state.

“Mm, what is it, babydoll? Hey- Think anyone’d notice if I fingered this sweet little pussy right now?” His voice cut through your memory and thick, long fingers teased the swell of your pussy lips through your underwear, making your hips contract with excitement. Your breath fans over the glass and smogs it.

“I don’t know- maybe.” You huff, trying to keep your composure. It sure is fucking hard when God’s gift to women is about to finger-fuck you at your parent’s house with 20 or so family members inside the property. You second guess yourself now. Maybe God's gift to women doesn’t go around playing with a pussy that belongs to their niece. Or maybe God was fed up with some girls missing out so he created sexually-attractive uncle’s to even any scores. You’ll be attending church this upcoming Sunday. Not because you’re going to follow through with blood-related fornication but because you want to thank the higher-ups properly for this fine piece of ass you’re about to receive from. Or maybe you shouldn’t step foot there, the whole ‘bursting into flames for egregious sinning’ type thing. Wait a minute- there’s literally daddy-daughter incest in the Book of Genesis, so you’ll happily sin away and tell god to fuck off while doing it. Okay maybe that’s a little uncalled for.

Leon tugged your panties to the side, breathing shakily.

“Fuck. I gotta see it, baby.” He mumbles, dropping to one knee with the other bent and still supporting the front of him. Underwear aside, he uses his hands to spread you out- taking in the sight of your damp folds. Damp is putting it lightly. His thumb collects some of your slick and he nearly cums right there.

“You save your first time for me?” He questions. In his mind, you’ve already had a dick or two. He can work with that. Those little guys your age don’t match up to him, but he’s blindsided when you whine about being a virgin, begging him to stick it in or something. Now, Leon’s not the greatest guy morally. At all. But if he’s going to pop your pussy like a soda cap for the first time, he’s going to do it in private cause he’s not stopping for anything. And privacy allows just that. Again- it’s not about it being special, just private. He’ll turn you out good and well.

“Sorry sweetheart. I wanna fuck this needy hole when it’s just us. Think you can wait?” He asks, before darting his tongue out to taste you and lapping up any of you that’s continuously dripping out from pent-up arousal. Your knees almost buckle and he puts his hands under the curve of your ass to hold you still. Your brain goes so mushy you almost forgot to respond.

“Y-yes, uncle Leon.” You whine like a pathetic puppy- begging for something that it didn’t need. But actually, you did need your uncle’s dick so badly. He laughs against your cunt, seemingly happy with that answer. Before you can properly nut like you want, you see your dad pass by in the distance of the sliding door. You tap the glass gently to alert Leon with a small series of clicks. He shoots his head up, yanking your panties back into place and using the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe his mouth.

“Fuck- always such a blue-balling asshole for anyone, I swear. Sorry, pretty girl.” He smooths down your hair, making sure you look presentable. Well- besides your face that’s red enough to be used as a lit flare.

“Go inside. I’m sure he’s looking for you, babydoll.” He grabs you drunkenly by the upper arm, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek.

“Come by mine sometime. I’ll be home, for once.” He mutters the last part, loosening his hold on you and starting down the steps of the deck.

“Okay. I’ll see you later, Uncle Leon.” You sound so disappointed and miserable. Pouty. Leon gets it.

“Later, babydoll.”

He heads down the path of the backyard and through the connecting gate that leads to the driveway, the sound of his motorcycle’s engine revving is the cue that he’s definitely headed off.

You let yourself back in, acting inconspicuous. But your dad is already waiting with crossed arms. Yuck.

“Did I not tell you several times about hanging around your uncle. He’s a weird guy. I don’t mind him coming over but, god.” He lays into you, mostly just insulting his brother. You roll your eyes as you normally do. You’ve never not had an attitude with your father. He was born to be shit on in your eyes- barely deserved your mom, as is. Besides, He had no backbone whatsoever.

“Just go upstairs.” He asked, cause he never told you to do anything. Just asked and hoped you’d listen. You were pleased enough to have gotten as much as your uncle tonguing your cunt, so you can comply a bit longer. You go upstairs to your room, shutting the door and lying down.

—

It’s a week later when you finally get to see your uncle. You managed to convince your dad to let you borrow his car, ‘cause you’re a broke college student and can’t afford that right now. Plus you’re spoiled but not enough for a car, apparently. Whoops. Probably because your dad knows as soon as he signs the papers, you’re going to drive to his brother’s house and impale yourself on his dick for life. He’d rather you go to college and get a train ran on you or something, at least.

You hoped you had remembered the right place at first, until Leon’s motorcycle was spotted in the lot. Good, he’s home. You still questioned your memory as you were walking up the flights of stairs in the apartment building, tugging down the back of your skirt when you felt it was airing out your ass too much (for any passerbys, not Leon). After reaching the 12th floor and navigating the scarily clean hallway (the few decorations in the area made it less horror-esque), you found the right (?) door. Your knock was soft because again, you weren’t entirely sure. Just going off of childhood memories.

After hearing a shuffle inside, it didn’t take long for it to swing open, Leon standing in the doorway shirtless with a pair of grey, thin sweatpants loose on his hipbones. His v-line was saying hello to you. Hello to you, too.

“Pretty girl! Hey! Thought you’d never come by. Sorry about the attire- been having a lazy day since I’m off work.” He moved aside for you to come in, the door shutting behind you when you accepted the unspoken invitation. His place was nice. A little cluttered with a half-packed suitcase; clothes messily thrown on top and some paperwork and a passport in a heap on the desk nearby, but still nice. Not to mention spacious. Thank god.

“It’s okay, really. You deserve some relaxation time, you know?” You try to be cool and collected- not getting to the main point of your visit. Even if you did have genuine interest in your uncle as a person.

“Isn’t that the truth? Want a drink?” He asked, already walking towards his kitchen. You don’t immediately reply because the sway of his ass is… something else, but you manage to snap yourself from the hypnotizing gaze of it. He’s got a whiskey glass and bottle already on the counter, waiting for a reply.

“Sure.” You tell him, knowing damn well you can’t handle your alcohol. You get all fucking lovey and touchy, and you’ve only drank like 3 times. And sure. You did come here to fuck him, but you were nervous. Okay, never mind. That gives a complete need for liquid courage.

He makes his way to the hallway- switching something on the AC control before sitting on the couch, adjacent from the chair you’re nestled in. You’re taking small sips of the whiskey, burning your throat, sinuses, and any nervousness down like a forest fire. Leon just sits, legs splayed apart like how men always sit. Except you can see his fat-ass dick print. God, kill me now. Or after I’ve sucked it, at least. You see, too, what looks like indents in the fabric- piercings maybe? Or the folds of the pants are sitting weird.

“Did you find the place okay?” He asks, coming off like he cares- which he does- but he’s mostly waiting to get you and himself sloppy for fucking so he’s just stalling now.

You nod, bottom lip tucked into your mouth- if you talk it’s going to be about his dick being huge or his dick being inside you. Leon allows you another deep sip, finishing off the liquid completely.

“I actually remembered how to get here just about perfectly.” You spoke, laughing a little. Yeah, you’d be gone completely in a few minutes. You already felt yourself slipping into a hazy, bubbly state. Leon could tell, too. Good for him. He loved when the girl was sloppier than the pussy attached to her.

“Smart girl. Always have been.” He took a long, heavy drink- finishing off his glass. You watched how his stomach twitched or moved even the slightest when he adjusted himself, the same with his arms. He was muscular yet lean- like he didn’t eat enough some days. Figures. Beauty isn’t easy and he looked good, and maybe that’s why he got plastered all the time so easily. No appetite=no tolerance. However, you were most certainly not afraid to look at the hard work. Even more so with alcohol brewing in your stomach acid and then liver.

Leon patted his leg, fingers drumming on the material of his sweatpants.

“Come sit. You can tell me more about it on your uncle’s lap.” Gross. Gross in the hot way. The gross-hot way you want him to fold and twist you like a pretzel. So no, you don’t abhor the idea of sitting in his lap.

You don’t even hesitate, standing and nearly falling over- realizing you forgot how wobbly your legs could get while inebriated. Leon reached forward to grab your hand and waist, letting you fall directly onto his lap, ass to crotch. Like a puzzle piece. An incestual puzzle piece- which ideally shouldn’t fit together but it just does.

You feel his cock twitch under you; he’s anticipated this, obviously. His hands slid up your thighs, and down again, then back up- like he’s appreciating them.

“Got the prettiest legs, baby. Want them on your uncle’s shoulders, don’t you?” He cooed, scooting you to the edge of his lap just enough to get his cock out of his bottoms. You turn to look behind you, twisting yourself a bit to get a look at it. Christ. One, he was big. The kind of dick that couldn’t stand ‘cause it was heavy and long. Two. It had a few piercings down the front of his shaft, gleaming in the light. So not only were you about to take your first dick, but a pierced one (like you had suspected). Okay…you didn’t remember seeing those the only other time you ever saw his dick by accident. New additions.

Leon stroked your hair with the hand that wasn’t holding his dick.

“Trust me, feels a lot better than it looks. I promise it doesn’t hurt. Even for virgins.” He adds, like he knows that for a fact. “Nothing you can’t handle for me.”

Okay, he’s right. You’d take his fist if it meant his approval, honestly. How bad could it be?

You move to spin yourself around on his lap, Leon’s amused at your eagerness. He holds his cock, spitting down onto it so he can stroke himself while he puts a hand onto your neck. You’re pulled by the hold into a slow, messy, spitty kiss. He’s definitely experienced, as you are not. His tongue makes its way against yours like he’s silently teaching you how to kiss him open mouthed. Not so hard, you think. He groans into your mouth as he handles himself, maneuvering his cock to brush against your underwear; prodding your clothed clit under your skirt.

You mewl against his lips which only spurs him to kiss you a little more rough now, assuming you’re ready for it. Which you definitely don’t mind. His hand squeezes the side of your neck affectionately, a thumb tracing the skin. You’re thankful you’re in his lap because your knees are weak and your head feels dizzy. It was an exchange of sighs and heavy breathing- no distance. Your hands tangled into his dark locks which is something that Leon loved; having his hair pulled (you could tell by his lusty growl and the shift of his hips). He truly was the epitome of a kinky, dirty old man. If pushing 40 was old. Well, to be fair, you did call the dead tree of a table at your parent’s house old, ‘cause it was 40.

He pulled off of you, your now un-joined mouths drippy with saliva.

“Get in between your Uncle’s legs. Wanna see that pretty mouth on this cock.” He urged, and you found yourself with your calves folded under you in between his parted thighs. He held his cock proudly, and to be honest, the piercings look daunting. How did you even expect yourself to suck on it like you’ve seen in porn? Maybe you should have spent more time watching guys with pierced dicks instead of the step category. You had a preference, clearly.

You snaked your hands up to him, holding his cock with a puzzled look clear on your face. Leon laughed, not like he was laughing at you but the way you laugh at someone when you think what they’re doing is cute.

“Don’t worry about them too much, gorgeous. Just do it how you think you would normally. But pay careful attention with your tongue. Won’t hurt me any, promise.” He reassures you thoroughly, chuckling through a sexually intense gaze. Okay, it seems…. easy enough. Didn’t know dirty old uncles could be so sweet about having their dick sucked.

You lean forward, Leon guiding the head to your mouth.

“Just go slow and focus on the tip. Don’t want my girl to be uncomfortable, now do I?” His girl? You liked the sound of that. Enjoyed it very much. You’d be his girl wherever and whenever. You took him past your lips- suckling on the tip softly and swirling your tongue around it.

“Just like that- fuck- you’re doing great, babydoll.”

The praise edged you on, and you managed enough confidence to glide your tongue down his shaft and over the piercings- flicking over them pornographically. You felt like it was just right. If fucking your uncle could be right in any way of the sense. Leon groaned and his head fell back onto the couch. A large hand found its way to your hair, holding it into a makeshift ponytail. You discovered that it wasn’t too daunting- it was possible to bob your head a little while keeping your tongue exploring the piercings in small swirls and flicks. Just makes your jaw a little tired faster. Besides, seems less scary than taking it inside you.

It’s an alternation of the previous movements and kitten licking up the front of him, and the adornments on his skin only seem to make everything feel much more stimulating. His breath deepens and he guides you now with your hair in hand- looking down at you through deep-brown bangs.

“Fuck- that’s it. Just look at you, dirty little niece I’ve got here, sucking her uncle’s cock like she was made for it. God- so damned pretty with your tongue on me.” His head falls back again for a moment, before he sits up- his labored panting evident.

“Christ. Okay- can’t take it anymore. C’mon, baby. Up.” He says, smacking your bottom when you stand in front of him. You’re feeling a bit ‘five seconds away from crashing into the coffee table and impaling yourself on the broken wood’ type of drunk now.

“Uncle Leon’s gonna pop that cherry, got it? Now sit down and let me lick that sweet pussy. Can still taste it after last time.” He’s speaking filthy things you should hear and run in the opposite direction from- but you don’t.

“My room. Remember where that is?” He mumbles, standing behind you now while he runs his hands down your sides- possessively grabbing at any fabric on you.

You shake your head no.

“Can’t remember. Need you to show me.” You whisper to him, putting your hands over his on your sides. He just muffles a laugh into the crook of your neck and shuffles you along in front of him, the two of you almost falling over multiple times on the way to his bedroom. You’re sure that something did get knocked off the wall at one point, but you literally do not care in any way.

Leon staggers you into the room and pushes you back onto the bed, shedding off his sweatpants. Naked, no boxers. Just full, thick cock and a trail of hair leading up to his belly-button that you haven’t let your eyes leave for however long you’ve been here. Oh, and muscled thighs. One of the greater parts of a man. His hands find their way to your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the bed before invading his thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

“Let’s get these off.” He grunts, pulling them down your legs and tossing them only for the undergarment to land in an unseen place. You go to tug off your skirt, until his hands pin yours to the bed.

“Want you to keep that on. Looks cute.” He says, retracting from you and sinking down at the edge of the bed. In no wasted time, his mouth is lazily lapping at your cunt- making your back bend in the reaction of immediate, overwhelming pleasure. You grabbed at the sheets until you remembered how his body responded when you pulled at his hair- so you found your hold there instead. Tugging his darkened strands with the pace he was eating you out at- stubble against your pussy and nose in your mound. His cheeks tickled your thighs, punching out a soft giggle and squirm from your body between the moaning. It makes him smile into you- reaching a hand up to knead your breast. Honestly, you hoped that the roof caved in right now and took you to your death because no moment would be better than this and that in itself made you suicidal.

You feel a finger slip past your hole, curling itself into that soft wall of fleshy, orgasmic sponge. The noise that left you was new, for sure and the muscle in his mouth jerked against your clit in tandem. It seemed Leon had the same deep feeling and worry you did about his dick even fitting, cause he added a second finger. Then tried to add a third but gave up because he actually wanted his dick to do that labor. He can be selfish, okay? It didn’t take long for you to cum either, duh. He was a skilled whore of a man and you’re a virgin. Or will be for only a few more minutes- probably less.

Your legs shake and tense, your heart thumps viciously, and your fingers threaten to tangle his hair into knots and make him start balding. Not happening no matter how hard you yank, though. His genes are too good for that. He was made for rough pulls to his mane. Made to take damage both mentally and physically. Made for splitting open cute, slutty nieces like you.

While you recovered, he licked his lips and fingers as clean as he could- missing the further parts of his stubbled cheeks. He stood up, hand on his lower back (‘cause duh, he’s old as dirt), and reached into the nightstand for a condom- which you gave him a look before he could open it. A look that told him ‘please, please, please don’t put it on! sure, fuck your blood-relative niece raw and possibly knock her up! Might not have to worry because you’re an alcoholic and your sperm quality is low, though.’ So fuck away.

He was a sucker for your big, glossy eyes and the slutty pout of your bottom lip. Not mentioning- he wouldn’t have worn a condom anyway. Would have just slipped it off before he stuck his dick in you. A virgin couldn’t tell the difference. What? You expected a man that fucks his own family to have morals for things lesser than that? No chance.

“Please, Uncle.” You begged softly, Leon knowing what you want without actually saying it. He’s great at reading people.

“Fucking hell. You’re something else. You want it that bad, huh?” He laughed, pleased by you beseeching him with so little words. You nodded, no objections about it. He tossed the unopened condom back in the drawer and shut it impatiently, making the lamp wobble.

“Changed my mind. Everything off. Gotta see that pretty set of tits.” The words were matter of fact and laced with a bit of erection-fueled urgency.

You reach your hands up to remove your shirt, then discard your bra and skirt. Left in the nude as naked as the day you were cut from your moms stomach. C-section baby and all that. Only this time there was no blood. Yet, anyways.

When you were stark naked, Leon pushed you firmly onto his bed again- folding you by the backs of your thighs, legs pressed to your chest and gifting your stomach with that cute roll thing it did. Leon liked that on a woman.

He grabbed his cock, positioning it against your slick that dribbled from your yet-to-be-abused hole. He was gonna change that. You could feel his one of the piercings resting against your skin down below- a tsunami of anxiety settling over your delicate village of a body.

“Might hurt a little, babydoll. Can’t promise I’m gonna be gentle with her.” He referred to your pussy, your hole fluttering when he talked. You gave a look of understanding and acknowledgement.

“God, want it so bad.” You whined under him, the position he had your legs in made you even crazier about having him in you, like, yesterday.

He didn’t savor the moment so that he could push into you, he just did it. The feeling of each piercing bumping your hole on the way in. It felt fucking good, but also his dick stretching you out was intense and stung like a papercut.

His hands held your thighs down into your stomach- giving you a novice contortionist experience, and you could see the veins in his forearm pop a little. Your mind raced with the following anxieties; ‘What if a piercing cuts my insides and I die from sepsis or something? What if a piercing ball comes off and is lost inside me forever? Maybe I should stretch more.’ The first two were irrational but maybe not so much so, or else you wouldn’t be thinking of them. You’re not the first woman to think any of it.

“Fuck- there we go. Shit. You feel incredible, baby.” He dropped the doll in favor of calling you baby this time, making you squeeze around him as he bottoms out, balls against your ass. Yep. A bruised cervix was in your future. Going to have to come up with an excuse for why you won’t be able to get out of bed for the next few days. You thought other girls were just exaggerating this whole time about feeling yourself be split open, what the hell was he trying to do? Dig out your uterus with his dick? Does he really have to be so deep? It’s, like, really hot and feels really fucking good, but also, slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the position.

Either way, he’s feeding your ego.

You let your head relax onto the bed instead of continuing to hold it up, ‘cause doing that was much more painful.

“God.” You muttered, relieved to be full and get the virginity loss out of the way. You should be getting a cake and celebration for this, if it wasn’t your uncle. But still. Taking big, pierced dick deemed trophy worthy. Or maybe a plaque.

Leon gazed down at you through straight locks, shaking them out of his face a little. He pulled himself out, minus the tip, before pushing back in with a groan- his Adam’s Apple bobbing hypnotically. Your spine arched, lifting your back off the mattress and your hands dug into your own thighs, helping hold them in place.

“You like that, huh?” He asked, the difference between it being pure hormones and condescension was blurred. Could have been both. He doesn’t give that much of a timeframe to start dragging his cock in and out of you, slowly picking up speed and bottoming out each time- balls slapping against your bottom.

You babble nonsensically, the ribbed sensation of his piercings almost sending you into hysterics. Something about yes, yes. I love it. Need you to fuck me so hard that my dad disowns me because I’m wheelchair bound and he knows why.

“Feels good, baby. I know it. Bet it’s hitting places you didn’t even know you had.” If he wasn’t so fucking hot, you’d probably have the ick from how cocky he is. Or not, you’re fucked up.

He leaned forward over you more to tangle into your hair, guiding your head to more of an angle and exposing your neck. You were so overwhelmed from how hard and deep he’s fucking you, not to mention his dick feels like how you imagine a beginner level bad dragon dildo to feel. Or maybe a less monster-y version anyways. It just feels fucking good and that’s all you needed to care about. Soft, airy cries crawl their way from your throat and leave you between that and moaning. Uncle, please. Please, please, please, harder.

“Let it all out, that’s it. Uncle Leon’s gonna take good care of this pussy.”

You nod as much as you can with his hold on your hair, and he pants into your collarbone, sweaty and nasty on top of you. You feel like you’re almost being crushed under his weight but it’s only hotter, and gets even more when you feel his free hand slip between your damp bodies to thumb your aching and still-sensitive clit. You tighten around his cock in reaction- gasping.

“Take it, babydoll. Fuck. Show me how much you want your uncle to make you cum. Belong on my cock, you know it?”

Your brain is off somewhere in a hot air balloon, far from its preferred skull. Which is yours. He speaks in ways you didn’t imagine you’d ever get to be spoken to or even enjoy. But it’ll be the only thing that gets you off from now on, no doubt about it.

“Uh huh, belong on your dick forever. Never wanna take it out.” Yeah. You’re stupid for him.

“Fuck. That’s my girl. Keep talking like that and I’m not ever letting you go.”

You nod your head.

“Want that, want that so bad. ‘D let you fuck me whenever you want, uncle.”

His lips curl into a half-pressed grin before he’s panting again- a bead of sweat dripping onto him. You remember he did something with the AC. Yeah-to the heat in the apartment is frying you good and well. Guess he wanted the sex to be extra clammy and gross. You know, besides the incest.

“Christ. Fuck, yes.” He groans deep, throaty and carnal.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’d be the prettiest little girlfriend. Sitting around waiting to get fucked all the time. I know how needy my baby is.” Christ. You’re going to the deepest abyss in hell. You’re sure whatever torment awaits is worth it though, so it’s not a big deal right now.

“Wanna be yours.” You choke, throat dry. Ah, you remember you’re intoxicated. That must be why you’re so loose at saying this stuff.

“Open up.” He huffs, almost face to face with you but still enough that his breath is hot on your features. You’re hasty to open your mouth like a whore, Leon dribbling his gathered spit down onto your tongue.

“Gotta keep you hydrated, baby. Can’t have that throat getting raw, can we?” You nod, there’s so many nasty things happening you can’t process it properly- unaware of everything as you cum a second time on his hand, squeezing his dick like a much softer and less dangerous guillotine.

His thrusts were a little more sloppy and erratic- alcohol fully set in for the both of you. Normally, he’d be able to hold off his orgasm a little longer- but combatting it wasn’t an option in this drunken state.

“Christ- so fucking pretty and tight when you cum on my dick. Gonna cum too, baby. Don’t think I can pull out right now.”

You shake your head no.

“Don’t pull out, please. Please uncle, ‘ll do whatever you want.”

He laughs brokenly, choked up from the moans that need to come out first.

“God, yes. Okay. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, baby.”

He focuses a few more thrusts, hard enough to make it hurt a little and sloppy enough to still be just the right amount of perfect.

“Here it comes, baby. Need you to take i- shit.” He buried deep inside you as he came hard, rasped voice and all while he held his place firm. His hair is stuck to his face in some areas, his natural scent emanating off of the sweat droplets.

His dick spasms inside you, filling you with every bit of semen he’s got pent up in him. You could almost feel the way your cunt was full of his cum, having no room around his dick to go anywhere, really.

He relaxed a little, letting out a long, pleasurable groan. You yourself joined him in letting your body go limp as it could in this position. He grabbed your legs to straighten them out and let them wrap around his waist, making you realize they were folded too long and that they ache a bit.

He kissed your collarbone, picking up his head and kissing your cheek next.

“Mm. Did so great for me, babydoll. Not gonna be able to let you go now.” He teased, another peck to your mouth that you managed to reciprocate just in time.

“Then don’t.” You tell him, mumbling.

“I can manage that. Could easily be my girl. Would have to be our little secret, though.” He adds at the end, threading his fingers in your hair.

Yeah, you’re not turning down that offer.

[hexesandroses]

A semi-long rant about Dottore's implied self-hatred, loneliness and inner struggles

I am, like many others, endlessly fascinated by Dottore, which means that I've been sucking the game dry for any Dottore content I can find; I've watched the dialogue between him and Nahida numerous times, read the "Zandik's Legacy" notes over and over and even the description of the "Wise Doctor's Pinion" from the Pale Flame artifact set. So much has already been said about him, but I'd like to offer my own two cents about an aspect of his character that is often ignored in favor of his villainy: Dottore's inner struggles.

I'll recount everything that I've gathered and tell you of my interpretation of Dottore's character.

To start, one thing that I never see people mention is a line from Nahida's retelling of the Tatarasuna incident. In the very beginning of the cutscene, we see a monster covered in light blue fur (obviously Dottore) who Nahida describes in a very interesting way. She says:

"Once in a while, the monster would take off its fox fur at night, and lament to itself as it gazed at its reflection in the water: "I am a monstrosity, yet they are too foolish to see it. I pity them."

Of course, it's easy to say that this is just a fairy tale Nahida created to preserve Scaramouche's memories and that this could've been made up - which is only half true! We must remember that Nahida has seen Dottore's consciousness. She already knew of the arguments between his Segments when Dottore confronted her to take the Electro and Dendro gnoses. Why do I bring this specific line up, though?

Because this line outright tells us that: 1) Dottore spent sleepless nights in Tatarasuna reflecting on himself; 2) That he, perhaps sincerely, pitied the people of Tatarasuna for not seeing past his facade.

I also think that the use of the word 'lament' is very interesting. To lament means to express sorrow and regret for something. I would think that this implies Dottore feeling remorseful for not just who he was, but what he would do to Tatarasuna. To provide further proof, I think it is important to look at the expression on the furry monster's face (as Nahida portrays it) when it laments to itself:

(What a cute little thing.)

It looks a bit... upset, doesn't it? Like it is mad at itself as it gazes into the water. This expression, combined with his thoughts and the use of the word 'lament' gives us a clear sign that many ignored: Dottore isn't as shallow of a villain as we thought.

Later in the cutscene, Nahida says:

"But the monster soon found solace when another came to live among the foxes who was not their kin: a kitten, carved from the wood of a white tree, who had been abandoned by the humans."

And in that moment, we see a wide-eyed little monster gazing at the kitten:

(Feels really silly to use this as an example but you've gotta trust the process)

Here, Dottore found someone like himself. An outcast, a creature that did not quite fit in with the ordinary humans - someone who could understand Dottore's loneliness and ostracization. After getting chased out of his hometown for his blasphemous ideas, after getting expelled from the Akademiya and possibly exiled to Aaru Village for his heretical views - Dottore had finally found someone to whom he could say: "See? They will never accept us. It is you and I against them, for they will never understand us."

What person wouldn't seek companionship, after all?

But things didn't turn out the way Dottore expected them to. Unlike Dottore, Scaramouche didn't need to hide his true identity in order to be accepted by the people of Tatarasuna. Thus, the following happened:

"Furious at this happy resolution, the monster lit a fire on the mountain. The terrified animals panicked as the fire spread..."

... and we know the rest. What matters is this: Dottore was angry and jealous of Scaramouche. Exiled from his hometown, rejected by his peers, insulted and looked down upon just for wanting to destroy the imbalance between Man and God - and along comes a puppet, a creation of the Raiden Shogun, who receives acceptance and guidance from the people of Tatarasuna. Not just that, but the only creature who could share Dottore's loneliness is whisked away from him, proving once again that Dottore will never know what it means to have a true companion.

Thus he tricked Scaramouche into believing that Niwa had betrayed them, had him join the Fatui and later used him as the blueprint for the creation of his Segments. Dottore basically ruined Scaramouche's life out of bitter jealousy.

That should be it about Tatarasuna for now. What I'd like to focus on next is the conversation between Dottore and Nahida in the 3.2 Archon Quest.

There are a few lines that interest me, so I'll go over them one by one.

Dottore uses a lot of big words to sound like he's saying something profound when in reality he's saying nothing at all (a nice callback to his Commedia Dell'arte counterpart), but there is one thing that both he and Nahida place great emphasis on: the fact that Dottore, smart as he is, cannot make peace with himself.

First to say it is Dottore. After asking Nahida for her opinion on his Segments, he says:

"Indeed. It's difficult for humans... to make peace with themselves, not to mention oneself from a different period."

The line still feels out of place. It sounds as if he is musing to himself.

Again, we get a line about his Segments, after Nahida asked him to erase them:

"You were observing me, and that's how you know I've long grown tired of their doubts and endless arguments."

I think it's safe to assume that the arguing is a metaphor for his struggle of self-acceptance. It seems every Segment has something to say to the others, but more on that later.

Nahida uses Dottore's own words against him:

"Like you said, it's difficult to make peace with yourself. Being as smart as you are, have you managed to do that?"

It's important to note that Dottore doesn't answer that question, but even without that, it's obvious to us, the players - of course Dottore hasn't managed to do that.

Whenever Nahida questions the relationship between his Segments, Dottore easily changes the subject. For example:

"Is the relationship between all the versions of you really that bad?"

"I don't think there's any need to dwell on that. The surplus versions of me can be exchanged for a Gnosis. Do you think anyone can offer themselves at a higher price?"

His Segments all argue constantly. When considered that they are replicas of Dottore at different stages of his life, this takes on an entirely new meaning - beyond his facade, Dottore is a man who can barely make out who he is.

Consider this also: in "A Winter Night's Lazzo", Columbina tells him, "You're looking very young today, Doctor."

To which Dottore replies, "You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment."

A piece of dialogue that had been brushed off by many, myself included - until I realized what this might imply. Dottore finds Columbina's comment insulting because he hates who he is. He hates the younger versions of himself because they represent a Dottore who didn't have the knowledge he has at this current stage of his life. They weren't as smart, as knowledgeable. But that's not really the full extent of it, of course.

Dottore was never fully accepted by anyone, this we have established. In the Akademiya, the students called him a 'madman', a 'monster' (as said in the Wise Doctor's Pinion). When we meet him in the 3.1 Archon Quest, he is referred to as 'The Outcast'. He is always being alienated, but could we assume that he just accepted this rejection and decided to embrace the titles people had thrown at him? This is just... very bold speculation, of course. It is impossible to deny that Dottore didn't always naturally stand out due to his heretical views, but I think it's worth considering that he could have just chosen to be the monster people thought of him as. After all, in the confrontation between him and Niwa, Dottore tells Niwa to think of him as a monster and a demon (for a reason that was... meant to be comforting? Not very important right now).

Consider also how different all the Segments sounded when they found out that they were being erased. All of the voices, along with their manner of speech, varied greatly; I interpreted this as proof of the many masks Dottore has worn over the course of his life. Dottore abandoned whatever humanity he had and decided to embrace the mask of a monster, constantly reinventing himself because he isn't secure in his identity - perhaps he doesn't have one at all. He is a scholar, a Harbinger, a researcher - but without those titles, what is left? What is he left with when he sheds those facades? The constant dodging of Nahida's questions about his Segments, the arguments and the worries of said Segments, the introspection in the cutscene about the Tatarasuna incident - indeed, Dottore is a man filled with self-hatred. A lonely outcast who has never known the comfort of kinship. A monster who swallowed his loneliness and dedicated his life to research.

That should be it, I suppose. My brain is fried and if I remember anything that I might have missed, I'll add that info later.

I want to mention one thing: this doesn't mean Dottore is a misunderstood good guy - doesn't take a genius to know that that is not true. Dottore has no regard for human life (which is ironic, considering how he believes humans have great potential and he wants them to be equal with the Gods). He has hurt so many and I'm sure he will continue to do so. He is evil, but it should be noted that he was once just an ordinary human, too. There must be an explanation for why he is the way he is. It's easy to paint him as just a monster because damn he's good at what he does; but I like to think that there is a layer to him that we just haven't fully seen yet. I'm excited to find out more about him when Snezhnaya gets released in like 2 years... ha. If you've read this far, thank you a lot! Curious to know what you guys think. I love Dottore

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Nov 16th

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1. Hi there! I'm looking for this fic that I thought I'd bookmarked, but I tragically had not. The premise is Wei Wuxian is asked to watch a class of baby Lan junior disciples when the teacher is pulled away, much to Lan Qiren's dismay. He's left watching them for much longer than Lan Qiren intended and ends up really helping the students, particularly one little kid who hadn't been able to develop his core very well yet. They go outside to test throwing snowballs with wind talismans and the kids all leave with more confidence in themselves. Lan Qiren is able to be convinced to let Wei Wuxian keep helping out with the baby juniors. @lucky-cat-13

FOUND? 🔒 Something Yet to Learn by Glitterbombshell (T, 16k, WangXian, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, [Podfic] Joy In the Midst of These Things Series by GoLBPodfics (GodOfLaundryBaskets))

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2. Hey, I am searching for two fanfics.

(A) One in which I think wangxian are broken up or could be that LWJ died cause all I remember is that WWX obsessively draws LWJ's ears cause he couldn't remember how they looked and that it ended on a happy note also I think it was a modern verse but not quite sure .

(B) And in the second one all I know is that wangxian are strangers who bury a body together and that one of them probably LWJ was the one who helped WWX do so and that they were in a forest and it was night time and was a oneshot I think under 20k words.

Thankyou!

2A)

FOUND! you'll always know me (ana_cp) by anaphoricae (E, 127k, wangxian, modern, Actor WWX, Teacher LWJ, Getting Back Together, Exes to Lovers, is it exes to lovers if you never quite defined your relationship?, Angst with a Happy Ending, LWJ being cute with children alert, WWX rides a motorcycle, LWJ writes as a hobby, Back hugs as a love language, Sharing Food as a Love Language) Another one where WWX isn't exactly an idol (he's a famous actor) and LWJ knows him from before he was famous, so maybe not exactly what they're looking for, but a great story nonetheless.

2B)

FOUND!🔒The inherent romanticism of hiding a body together by Aki_no_hikari (T, 4k, WangXian, First Meetings, Love at First Sight, Modern, Corpse Desecration, Corpse Disposal, Pigs, dark Wangxian)

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3. Hi! Thank you for the work you do. Could you please help me find this fic? It's set during the 14 years wwx is dead, focusing on lwj and his sect-- it has some great OCs with lwjs younger cousins who adore him, and specifically question the rules because of his punishment. Lwj also gets migranes? I think it's in progress, but not sure. Thank you!

FOUND? Run Off The World by Sapphire_Roses (M, 316k, wangxian, XuanLi, SongXiao, WIP, Not Everyone Dies AU, Canon Divergence, Wen Remnants Live, Flashbacks, YLLZ WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei Sect, Sect Leader WWX, Married WangXian, OCs, POV Outsider, Morally Grey Characters, (Do Take That Tag Seriously), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Gusu Siblings Feels, Sibling Bonding, Pining, Character Study, Tenderness, Mild Smut, POV Alternating, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Minor Character Death) remind me of Run Off The World by Sapphire_Roses, specifically chapter 38 but in this, Wei Wuxian is alive

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4. Looking for fanfic where Lan Zhan is grieving and the rest of the Lan Clan regret whipping him and are trying to help him survive. I read it a few weeks ago go but forgot to bookmark it.

LAN xichen also bring in Yuan to visit lan zhan as he is healing to motivate him to heal quicker.

But any recommendations about angsty lan zhan * Wei ying in general is appreciated. @wildcat12

All that is solid melts into air by huxiyi (T, 18k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Growing Old Together, Breaking Up & Making Up, Post-Canon, Character Study, Getting Back Together)

🔒 Traditions of Grief by ReleasedFromHisCage (Not Rated, 574, WangXian, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Canon Compliant)

to remember names of plants series by detention_notes (T, 8k, Diary/Journal, Character Study, WWX’s canonical humor as deflection, WQ is a lesbian, Friendship, Parenthood, Pining, thinly-veiled anger and fear, small moments of hope, planning for uncertain futures, is this angst?, gentle angst, Reminiscing, Found Family, Parenthood, Reminiscing, Pining, Grief/Mourning, Epistolary, Healing, Childhood, Love, LWJ’s single parenthood, how to love a memory, how to raise the next generation, Canonical Character Death, Yearning, LWJ’s concentrated stream-of-consciousness emotions, Bittersweet, Hopeful Ending)

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5. Hello, I have a request.

Wei Ying survived the first siege of burial mounds but his soul was shattered and he was the kind of child who needs to be watched and lan wangji takes him to the cloud recesses to care for him and at some point wei ying keeps trying to hurt himself or die and as for lan wangji he keeps on taking care for him for 13 years until wei ying successfully killed himself and got summon in mo xuanyu body. @lanwuxian0725

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6. I am back again, please, you are wonderful, i need help finding another fic. (One day i will start logging the titles of fics I love.) I know the plot, but all my keyword/tag searches have been unsuccessful. So, For a Fic Finder: It's a modern (no magic) fic set just as we went into full pandemic lock down. (It may have been set in Canada - but I'm not positive on that detail.) Wei Ying is an artist--a painter, and he lives with Lan Zhan, who (i think) teaches music. They are friends but not yet a couple at the fic's start. A big plot point is Wei Ying has a setious unspecified auto-immune disease (i recall one symptom was painfully swollen joints) that is debilitating when it flares up. It also means he has to stay strictly home due to his immune system being compromised. Let's see...Lan Zhan has bunnies and as he gets really depressed during lock down, he uses his hefty trust fund to shop online for increasingly ridiculous/expensive stuff (think stuff like jeweled bunny water bowls from Tiffany and Cartier). Eventually, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan confess & get together. The only thing after that, that is sad, is how much they both miss LZ's son, A-Yuan. A-Yuan & Jingyi are at university and initially stay with Jiang Yanli when campus shuts down. Wei Ying thinks that they won't be able to come home for break as planned, because they don't want to risk Wri Ying getting covid. But the ending of the fic is both boys secretly super quarantine themselves and then borrow a car and drive the long road home. A-Yuan was adopted by Lan Zhan and at the very end he calls Wei Ying "Dad," which is a huge deal to Wei Ying.

If someone can find this. I will be so grateful! @emrinalex

FOUND! A Bad of Nibs (Nibs are Bad) by Enk (M, 17k, WangXian, Quarantine, Slice of Life, Friends to Lovers, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Fluff and Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Found Family, Vague Canadian Location, JYL Lives)

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7. Fic finder please! I mostly remember WWX as the final girl trope and it was listed in the tags. It was kind of a horror and mystery story where his mother was killed by serial killer? And JGY was helping them? There were shoes involved. And nhs and WWX get caught and have to fight xy and escape. then LWJ has some kind of ghost gift and comes to find them. It was so good and I can’t remember the title to find it to read again! 😭😭😭

FOUND! Post Mortem by Cataclysmic_Calamity (E, 178k, WangXian, Psychological Horror, Modern, friends with benefits, they’re both fucked up but they love each other so much, Slow Burn Mystery, Unnegotiated Kink, Dom/sub, Anal Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, Stalking, Drug Addiction, Serial Killers, in WWX’s desire to critique the ‘final girl’ trope he accidentally becomes one, Angst with a Happy Ending, meta commentary on the horror and true crime genres)

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8. Hi I was wondering if you all could help me find a fic? It was a modern au where WWX was a spy and had to break up with LWJ but he ends up getting injured and breaks into LWJ’s place to bleed out on his couch after not seeing him for years. I know LWJ was a surgeon or at least a doctor in the fic and that Lan Yuan shows up as a kid LWJ meets at the hospital. Wen Qing and Lan Xichen are also in it from what I recall. Thank you for all that you guys do! @peerlessplantma

FOUND? 8 sounds like a deleted fic by scarletmoontears called empty space beside me? Currently unfinished at about 26K words

I could've sworn i was subscribed to updates but it's not in my subscriptions, I think this is a WIP?

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9. Hi! I have yet another fic that I can't remember the name of. It was on AO3

What I remember: Wangxian were immortals who are living in the modern age (Modern AU). Wei Ying lives as a famous actor, Jiang Ying, where his fans regularly know that he is a troll --- Wei Ying tends to tweet. There was this whole thing where a fan brought up how Wei Ying looks like this old legend story Wei WuXian and Wei Ying actually responds to the comment online and confirms it to be true. No one takes it seriously bc well they know Wei Ying is a prankster. (This ofc, is the time that Wei Ying is NOT lying)

TLDR: wangxian immortals, modern AU, on AO3, Wei Ying is a famous actor under name Jiang Ying

THANKS! Much love! @chenqingmagic

NOT FOUND! ridiculous future bullshit Series by sami (T, 93k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Future Fic, in theory it follows on from an au, specifically The Same Moon Shines Series, in actuality I’m not committing to this that hard, Humour, immortals through history, Modern AU, Sort Of, University, outsider pov, Pride, Chaos Gremlin WWX)

~*~

10. hey!

first up, thank you so much for doing— personally, it bugs so much when i can't find the fics i love! there's a modern-setting fic, where wwx is a cultivation shop owner hiding from the jins, on the low— and a birthday night gets stuck in a time loop, and same happens to lwj. could you plsss help me find this??? i've been trying since a couple of days now, but.. 😅

FOUND? see you yesterday by glyphic (M, 138k, WIP, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Ghost Hunters, Time Loop, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn)

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11. Hello! Love this blog for all the fics its given me <3! I'm looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian is left behind during the fall of Lotus Pier,, Jiang Cheng still escapes with his mom, but that's all I can remember. Any help I can get will be appreciated!!

11 seems familiar to me although I can't remember whether madam yu also escaped with jc or not. It was probably a wwx birthday project WIP which I'm sure was in my bookmarks. But I can't find it now, I can see a mystery work when searching with specific tags which could be it but again I'm not sure

FOUND? Every time you fall by Nillegible (T, 9k, JFM/YZY, WangXian, JC & WWX, WIP, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Fall of Lotus PIer)

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12. Hi!! I'm looking for a college au fic where lan wangji is selectively mute and comunicates though sign language and meets wwx ( jc and jyl) who know sign language because madame yu is deaf. Wangxian meet at a coffee shop whe wwx works! Thank for all the great work you do! @kavlobebeki

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13. Hi! There was this fic that I was reading a while ago but lost… do you think you could find it? I believe it was a teen wangxian fic, cloud recesses arc. Wwx is teasing Lwj in the library pavilion like usual, but pretty much freezes because it’s storming outside. It was then revealed that wwx’s fear of storms came from his fear of lightning, which of course stems from his trauma related to madam Yu.

FOUND? Thunderstorm in the Library Pavilion by ZamaShines (M, 22k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parent YZY, Abusive YZY, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Whipping, Astraphobia, phobia - thunder, Thunderstorms, Panic Attacks, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, WWX Needs a Hug, and gets the hug, Good Sibling JC, Good Uncle LQR, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts)

~*~

14. Hello! There was a fic a while back. Wei Ying and the wen Remnants were in Gusu. But while Lan Zhan was away the elders put Wei Ying on trial, silenced him and whipped him? His siblings show up right at the end and he's barely hanging on. I don't think it was ever finished, but it was good and I have a craving to read it again.Thank you! @loremipsumflotsamandjetsam

i think i have seen it, possibly a thread fic on twt? Maybe with WY being a prisoner in the Lan sect and A-Yuan stays with him, LZ does not know him and hates him but then gets to know and understand him better? And then he leaves CR for some time and JGY of SS possibly do something to make WY seem guilth and whipped so when LZ returns he is livid and proclaims marriage? But sadly i don't remember who's fic that was :( Though i don't remember WY's sibs being there, so maybe that's another one. Also in the one i read WY wakes up after the whipping and finds out LQR and LZ cared for A-Yuan during blackout… It was an interesting one anyway

~*~

15. Hi, for the next ficfinder: there was this fic that said in what I think were the author notes that wwx thought he was lazy but turns out he's just depressed and I can't find it ☹️

FOUND? Polishing Jade by Starra (M, 252k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Modern AU, Awkward Dates, Slice of Life, Most likely OOCness, Falling In Love, Everyone Needs A Hug, Loneliness, Feelings Realization, Drinking to Cope, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, slow-ish build, Might not be slow enough for some people my bad, The real Slow Build is how long it takes for them to actually get married, Eventual Cohabitation)

~*~

16. Hello 🐇💙 Looking for one of the many canon divergence fics where the Wens and WWX end up at Lotus Pier instead of, you know, dead. The one specific identifying detail I can provide is WWX being in chronic pain from the core removal and WQ trying to figure out a way to help him. At least one instance of WWX trying to hide/downplay the pain and basically collapsing before he accepts the help. @linderel

Alas, this is a good fic but not the one I'm looking for! Pretty sure the one I want has WQ sticking WWX with acupuncture needles for pain management, and WWX actually experiences flare-ups of acute pain (and no it's not RoseThorne's fic either, they are definitely at LP not BM)

NOT FOUND 🔒 if you’re leaving baby let me down slowly by ravenditefairylights (M, 36k, WangXian, XuanLi, Past MingXian, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Implied/Referenced Sex, Miscommunication, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Hurt WWX, Mutual Pining, Unreliable Narrator, Self-Esteem Issues, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Protective Siblings, Trauma, Slightly dubious consent, courtesy of drunk sex, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Phoenix Mountain, Chronic Pain, Getting Together, Fix-It of Sorts, One Braincell Trio, PTSD) WQ gets really upset before WWX will accept her help, but I think the only time WWX collapses in the fic is because of a panic attack, so it doesn't match exactly

~*~

17. Hi! I’m looking for a fic where Wei wuxian comes back as mo xuanyu and goes to pier. He pretends to be a woman and goes to gusu with Jiang Cheng, Lan wangji meets Wei wuxian pretending to be a woman and starts to fall in love. Lan xichen notices and talks to him because everyone thinks Wei wuxian and jiang cheng are dating and he doesn’t want his brother’s heart to break again. There was also a big meeting between sects where someone asks how many kids Wei wuxian and jiang cheng want to have, Wei wuxian answers but Jiang cheng says he wants none and everyone’s shocked before Jiang cheng reveals that Wei wuxian is his heir and not his lover.when everyone goes to yiling city Wei wuxian is forced to use some demonic cultivation but isn’t caught and all the juniors love him for being his cool and mischievous self. I’d be so grateful for any help in finding this fic! @sentient-halloween-candy

FOUND! By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal)

~*~

18. Re-submitting this in the hopes that someone might know this since it wasn't found last time 😞

About the fic:

It's been a long time since I read this one, so it's an older fic (at least more than 3-4 years ago). It was centred around MDZS as a story with Jiang Wanyin as the MC and YLZ as the villain. Our main characters had a whole fandom around it, where LWJ is a famous author and WWX a not-very-popular artist who drew fanart of the most hated character in the book "Yiling Laozu" (I think he was an artist, could also be a fellow writer).

I remember there was lot of fandom discourse about WWX and his choice of character to support and how YLZ was always jealous of JWY and did actually maliciously cause everything he was accused of in this alternate MDZS canon. Then, suddenly, LWJ + WWX end up pairing up for a fandom event (a big bang or smth similar), and WWX has the idea of a story where canon divergence occurs and YLZ is a good person instead (like actual canon) and LWJ agrees to write for it.

This was as far as I had read for it. From I remember it was a WIP. Thanks <3 @indelibleme

~*~

19. hi I wanted to ask for this fic

i most prob found this fic under jealous lan wangji fics on ao3 but I can't seem to find it any longer

basically wwx was goading lwj tht he might mess w someone else and lwj said there's gonna be no one else for the rest of ur life

and also lwj got kinda horny mad and fucked wwx in an alley and i think all of this took place in an alley

if u find it or not ,still tysm

~*~

20. Hi! Im looking for a fic, and i Think its a one-shot. Its starts (I think) that they are at a banquet, and Wei Ying is looking at a forhead ribbion, he has in is wrist, and then he hear, I tink it Lan Xichen, asking him where he got it from, and he tells them its from a childhood friend. And when they tell them is Lan Zhans ribbon, he goes in denail. They havent met in the cloud resses study arce at that time. Hope you acn find it! And sorry english is not my first language! @misswinchester1967

~*~

[soobchwe]

heartsick avenue —⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐫

➸ fic for the birthday boy and dancing prodigy himself! 🤍 ʚɞ pairing: nishimura riki x fem!reader ʚɞ word count: ʚɞ genre: slight to mid angst, fluff ʚɞ tags: exes to ? ʚɞ synopsis: Is it normal to celebrate your ex's birthday? Probably not. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't, and it definitely doesn't mean you still have feelings for him.

Lighting the candles on Riki's cake, you feel the intense, accusatory stares of Jake and Sunghoon behind you in the tiny kitchen. Your apartment is filled with Riki's closest friends and family, but two of them decided to stick around by your side to be as judgemental as ever.

In any other situation, you know Riki would be celebrating his birthday somewhere else. But it's you, and it's him, and it just feels right, despite all of the people wondering what is wrong with the two of you. The breakup was five months ago. Sure, there's cordial, but then there's off-putting denial.

"You're really going all out for him, you know," Jake comments, taking a free piece of garlic bread and stuffing it in his mouth.

"I would assume she's his girlfriend or something. Right, Jaeyun?" Sunghoon asks, sarcastically.

"Exactly! I was thinking the same thing."

"Can you guys just hush and keep eating? It's not like that," you admonish them. With the final candle lit, you feel successful that the cake is perfect and exactly to Riki's specifications.

Yes, you were his girlfriend, once upon a time. But that didn't mean you had to stop caring about him, especially when the breakup didn't end with any bridges burnt or sour feelings involved.

What was so wrong with wanting to celebrate someone who still meant a lot to you?

Sure, your friends told you trying to stay casually involved with each other as friends was not a good idea. It would only keep residual feelings in your heart and lingering disappointment in the air, but it didn't feel that way. It hurt more to be without him at all than with him but not in a romantic way.

Everyone's else's opinions didn't matter anyway. All that did was having his presence in your life any way you could.

Sunghoon turns out the lights as you begin singing "Happy Birthday," the rest of the partygoers following in your lead. You look directly at Riki as you set the cake down in front of him, your heart in your mouth as the final lines of the song ring out in your living room.

You know it was the right choice for the two of you to part ways, the decision amicable and made without anger or pain. His career was his focus right now, as was yours, despite the strong feelings that lingered.

Yet, why does your heart still clench every time you stare into his eyes and see the corners of his lips turn up? Why does he still handle you and every interaction you've had since the breakup with the same level of care he held when he was yours?

"Happy birthday, Nishi," you say with a smile, the expression equal parts real and fake. "Don't forget to make a wish!"

He blows out the candles the second after you tell him to. The people surrounding him clap when the smoke billows into the air, but all Riki can do is keep his gaze on you.

"You gonna tell me what you wished for?" You ask, covering another dirty dish with soap.

"The whole point is that you don't tell anyone or it won't come true, remember?" Riki smirks as you hand him the plate you've just cleaned. He rubs it with a hand towel vigorously, making sure it's spotless before it goes in the cabinet.

He's always been a neat freak, making sure things are in the correct order and place before he feels content. His quirks still make you laugh to this day, although they used to drive you crazy in the early weeks of your relationship.

"I was just curious is all," you say. "I didn't expect you to stay after everyone left. Shouldn't the birthday boy be drinking with his friends? Attending some after party  or whatever Hee was going on about?"

Riki chuckles. "Nah. I'd rather be here with you anyway."

Your heart cracks into small pieces. How could something so offhand from his mouth hit you like a shotgun barrel to the chest? It was easy to have a light conversation with him, but nothing to this caliber. Anything with a slight tinge of romantic undertones was not a territory you wanted to go back to again. It was too easy to fall into, and you fear you may never recover if you go back to that headspace.

The fragments in your chest are similar to the ones from the mug in your sink. It's chipped at the handle in a deep ridge. You barely remember the sound piercing the air, too lost in your thoughts to recognize the slipup.

"Shit," Riki exclaims, "are you okay?" There's no blood in the sink from his viewpoint, but he inspects your hand anyway to make sure you're not injured.

"I think you should go," you respond, the words coming out before you can stop them.

"Hey, look at me." He turns you to face him, saying your name with concern as he puts both hands to your face. "What's wrong?"

"We can't do this, Riki," you whisper, choking on the beginnings of a sob in your throat. "You can't say things like that, and you can't touch me like this. Not anymore." You remove his touch from your skin and walk to the bathroom, hoping he doesn't follow.

Like Riki can read your mind, he respects the space you clearly need and departs quietly. Little does he know, all you want is to pull him closer.

The December air bites through your thick coat as you tread the sidewalk to your apartment. Of course, you had to spend another late night in the office, your boss unrelenting even on the cusp of the holiday season. At the same time, it’s nice to be distracted by work, documents and timesheets taking your mind off the disaster of Riki’s birthday a week ago.

Speak of the fucking devil.

The man himself is sitting on the steps leading up to your apartment building, He has his hands tightly knit together to keep them warm, his attire doing nothing to provide the heat he needs. In denim jeans and a baseball shirt with a faux leather jacket, you’d think he had no intentions of stopping by tonight.

It makes you wonder how long he’s been sitting and waiting for you to arrive home.

“Nishi? What are you doing here?” You ask, clearly puzzled. You step closer to him, noticing the redness of his face from the chilly climate. The least he can do is find a warmer coat if he plans on going somewhere, on purpose or not.

“I had to see you.”

You force the butterflies down, not letting them flutter much harder than necessary. “What for? You could’ve called or texted.”

“I didn’t get to tell you what I wished for on my birthday.”

You can’t fight the chuckle that comes out of your mouth. “Yeah, because you said if you did you-”

In a millisecond, Riki is standing in front of you with his lips firmly pressed to yours. The kiss is rushed and clumsy, but the next few that follow are smooth and desperate. Your mitted hands press to his neck as his arms wrap around your waist, the urge to hold each other unavoidable.

When you part, Riki smiles like the world is a shade brighter because of you. “Last week, I wished to find the courage to do that again. And tell you how lost I’ve been without you.”

A sad laugh escapes your throat as a tear also forms in your eye. “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“But it’s different. You know it is. And I want to go back to how it was before.”

You stutter, unsure what to say to that response. Did he think it could work again, in spite of all the things that made you agree to separate in the first place? “What about your job, and–”

“All that matters to me is us. Everything else is background noise.”

You whimper before connecting his mouth to yours again, his words and his touch melting you to the bone until you acquiesce to his plea. How could you say no to him, your bestest friend?And it feels so right to be in this place with him again that there’s nowhere else you want to be, as his friend and his lover.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy @hursheys @slytherinshua @hyperdramas

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[angel-princess-anna]

Tributes to Maggie from the Downton Cast and Crew (Part 2):

Part 1

Hugh Bonneville (in addition to his previous comment):

Elizabeth McGovern:

Joanne Froggatt: "Today we lost a true legend. It’s hard to find the words to pay tribute to the iconic Dame Maggie Smith. I shared a screen with her on very few occasions but was fortunate enough to be in her company on many. She truly was a trailblazer, with the sharpest wit, the greatest talent, the naughtiest sense of humour, she was a force to be reckoned with. She had a charisma that you felt would live for ever (in many ways it will) and underneath all of that a huge heart. Thank you Maggie, for always being supportive and kind to me, for putting many a smile on my face with that sharp wit that no one could match, and for showing the rest of us just how it’s done.

Rest in peace Dame Maggie, my thoughts are with your beautiful family. 🖤"

Lily James:

Tom Cullen: "I remember a very specific part of the conversation Maggie and I were having when this photo was taken. Maggie had been doing a big and challenging scene where she is reunited with her old flame played by Rade Serbedzija. I was stood at the back, out of frame and able to observe these incredible actors at their work. But for whatever reason Maggie felt like she wasn’t getting the scene right. Maggie took the smallest moment, came back and next take, simply, effortlessly, delivered a masterclass. She was extraordinary. The director called “cut” and we moved on. I was spellbound. During our conversation at the window, I asked Maggie what she did in order for her to so swiftly and precisely produce such an elevated performance. I remember her looking me in the eye and saying “Oh darling! I was just holding in a fart!”. I remember us both bursting out laughing. I really wished that she had been just holding in a fart but of course that wasn’t the real truth, the real truth was that she worked tirelessly her entire career to make that scene look easy.

I only worked with her for a short while, but I feel so blessed to have had that experience. She was tough, demanded the best but making Maggie laugh felt like winning the lottery.

My heart goes out to her family, friends, her Downton family and all those she touched with her sharp, agile and acerbic brilliance.

We lost an absolute giant today 💔"

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Tom Cullen (@tom_cullen)

Lesley Nicol: "It's a very close group of people so we're all devastated to think she's not around any more.' [...] "I'd never worked with someone of that calibre, and I thought, I don't know what I'll say to her, it will be really tricky, God she'll probably be really grand. She was not looking for anyone to be scared of her, or in awe of her, she just wanted to be in the gang [...] she was in with the crowd, and just very happy to be part of it all."

Jeremy Swift: "An honour to serve you Maggie."

Lady Carnarvon: "I never saw her on set with a little script, she knew it before she got here [to Highclere]. She worked so hard, to get up at silly o' clock... and to wear corsets for hours on end." [Highclere Castle's post]

Harriet Walter: "She was a true comedian, but also I've seen her playing some incredibly heartfelt, deep, sad roles, which is the huge range of an actress like her. If she was merely funny or merely tragic, she wouldn't quite have made that sort of impression."

Anna Mary Scott Robbins: "I C O N 🤍 Oh Maggie you will be missed 💔"

(special thanks to @lovelikewildness for helping to compile)

[dearanakin]

trust you | anakin skywalker: episode VI

Summary: You and Anakin have been paired to attend an event on the Jedi Temple, all because Poe Dameron insisted. The Jedi seems unprepared for the outcome of being in the spotlight, and you're faced with his vulnerabilities for the first time. (Ps: This is exactly how I imagine him during a specific scene from this chapter 🥺)

Warnings: vulgar language (as always), panic attack

Word count: 4.8k

----

Anakin:

As soon as we landed on Coruscant, we were all warmly welcomed by every person who had been waiting for us to come back from our mission. We were greeted by the engineers, other Jedi and even a few Droids, which celebrated Artoo's return as well.

I tried my best to not cringe at every hug or every handshake someone pulled at me, but I didn't want to look like a dick any more than I already do. So, I just nodded and gave them a smile before heading towards Luke and C-3PO who were waiting for me expectantly.

I rushed to my son, and he quickly pulled himself at me and wrapped his legs around my waist, slightly squeezing me with his small arms. "Hey, bud. It's good to see you".

Luke pulls back and looks at me with a big smile and I see how his big blue eyes sparkle with happiness. "You're back, dad. I wanna know everything. Did you fight the bad man? Did you shoot him? Did they die?".

His bombardment made me laugh as I shook my head from the amused remarks he made. I pull him back for another hug and feel him clinging to my neck, I could feel his energy seeping through my body. It made me feel immediately relieved from being back again.

Luke drops himself from my grip and holds my hand, looking back at the commotion that was still happening in the hangar. People were cheering for (Y/N) and Cal, exchanging hugs as Poe watched with his arms crossed against his chest. He's not really well known around the Temple, but he nods with a grin when people compliment and greet him.

I feel the little boy giving my hand a squeeze, making my eyes dart to him. "Can I go hug Miss (Y/N)? I've heard she was on the mission as well".

My throat suddenly tightened and I tried too hard to swallow. I keep looking at him like it was a hard decision to make. It didn't strike me that he would like to welcome her at all. Not after telling him many times he shouldn't be too close to anyone I didn't trust. And matter-of-factly, the little bastard loves to do the opposite as I say sometimes. My face falters and I give him an apologetic look.

"But dad, everyone is hugging her. I wanna give her a hug too!" His words stung, they felt like a stab on an open wound.

"They're all friends, buddy. We're not her friends, remember?" I crouch down to his level, trying to reason as my hand rests over his shoulder. Luke frowns over my words and Goodness Sake, I swear I can see disappointment.

"That's because you don't want me to be friends with her. I already told you she's nice to me!" He shoots an angry glare at me and diverts from my grip. Seconds later, he's running towards the group of people around the others.

I stand up huffing, shoving my hand over hair pulling the strands feeling on edge. This little shit always goes against my rules and it pisses me off. But I'm never one to punish him, for some reason it doesn't feel right to do that. My mother never did that to me either way.

Behind me, 3PO mumbled something pretty incoherent and it sounded muffled. My eyes roamed through the hangar, they landed on a shadow standing across the area. I couldn't see much from the distance, but I sensed the presence and it felt like I'd seen it before. My stomach tied to a knot and I felt the blood rising to my head. Suddenly I felt a pressure in my chest, my feet wouldn't move.

I tried to sprint to the other side of the hangar, not daring to look away from the person standing on the corner of the wall. I decided to run after them, but by the time I got there, I was met with nothing. I blinked a few times, trying to adjust my sight and making sure it wasn't some kind of illusion, or a trick. I still had this feeling on my body that I knew who it was, but couldn't actually pinpoint it.

My heart was racing and hammering against my ribcage. I felt my blood pressure pick up as though I was having a heart attack. I couldn't just breathe decently, and I had to lean against the wall for support otherwise I'd drop to the floor and embarrass myself.

After a few minutes trying to calm down, my feet dragged me into the small group of people who were just having a conversation after celebrating our return. I watched as Poe was sitting on the floor talking to Luke. I swear to God this boy loves to make acquaintances with every person he sees. I'm not sure it's exactly a good idea to let him get to know other people, but I let him this time, he seemed pretty involved.

I shifted my sight and was met with Cal and (Y/N) laughing over something they were talking about. She glanced at me for a slight second, enough for me to catch her eyes before she returned her gaze to her friend. It felt different, weird to look at her after what happened back there. She didn't seem too frightened like she did before we went out on the mission.

Before we landed, Poe had invited us for a drink later that day. I tried to refuse many times, but he made sure he would convince me to go so I would get rid of my "grumpy face". I really wanted to go back to my place and get some rest, spend time with my son, and get some distraction. I just wasn't the biggest fan of going to the bar and drinking, nor do I like to interact with other people like I did before. It's plain boring to me.

-

I ended up going to the bar with Dameron, who also invited (Y/N) and Cal, obviously. Not only I didn't have the greatest time of my life, but I also had to deal with him asking (Y/N) to be my plus one at this sort of event the Temple was making.

And here I was, sitting next to her at our table for six. Cal was sitting across from us, his bored expression radiating through the place. He had a friend beside him, who was having a conversation with the nerd next to me. Motherfucking Poe was happily sipping on his glass of water, nodding to his sister.

I kept fidgeting my fingers under the table, not really interested in being at one of these events where they praise people for doing their work. In fact, I consider this such bullshit, given that we are all fighters out there. Kestis would constantly look at me like he wants to choke me to death, and I'm sure he just about planned the entire thing.

"So" Poe's sister spoke up, we all whipped our heads waiting for a response. "When did you and Skywalker start dating?"

The man next to her almost choked on his water, clearing his throat.

"What?" My eyebrows shot up in confusion and I could hear the crack in my voice. "We're not- She's not my-"

"We aren't really-" I heard (Y/N) speak up at the same time, sensing her nervousness.

"These two?" Cal chimed in simultaneously, and I glanced at him, knowing the bitterness in his tone. With a sly smirk on his face, he shook his head in amusement. "They literally hate each other".

The expression plastered over Dameron's face, I recognized he didn't know where exactly my relationship with her stands. His sister was as surprised as he was, while the dumbass sitting in front of me seemed to be having fun.

"Shut up, Cal" (Y/N) seethed through gritted teeth. "I'm sorry, he likes to make up things just for his entertainment".

Is he lying, though? I wasn't the biggest fan of hers, and I surely didn't want to be at this fucking event sitting next to her. Especially if I have to face Cal on the other end of the table.

She gave Poe's sister a forced smile, clearing her throat. "We're not together. Your brother paired us for the event, but that's about it".

I shot him daggers, my eyebrows still knitted together. I'm going to have a fucking headache from this conversation. The pilot lifted his hands in surrender as his face flushed red.

"Hey, I didn't know that either. If anything, I thought they were together" He explained, pointing his index finger between (Y/N) and Cal.

It's not like it's debatable, their friendship is somewhat too strong, and they always look at each other as if they're in love. Maybe I'm seeing things the wrong way, but I'm sure Kestis definitely feels passionate about her.

Now, at least I was having some fun. The redhead in front of me blushed, his lips pursed and he huffed. I felt (Y/N) shift beside me and shove her forehead over her hand, running the fingers through her hair.

"No one is dating anybody, Poe" He seemed to be having a hard time coming up with words, I watched as Cal tried to get rid of his hoarse voice while taking a sip of his water.

"Oh, really? You always seem pretty close" I push, receiving a warning glance from him. The curve of my lips pull into a smile and I tilt my head, faking my reaction.

"No. We're just really good friends" Cal clenches his jaw and I can feel his hands turn into fists besides his body under the table.

"Then why are you blushing?" I hear myself egging him, feeling his stare burn into me. Before he could speak up again, his friend cut him off.

"Okay, let's go get something to eat!" She stood up from her chair, grabbing him by his forearm. Kestis was pissed at me by the way his eyebrows were frowning and his hands were still closed.

I wiggle my fingers as I wave at him, watching as both of them disappear through the crowd of people dancing and conversing. I noticed (Y/N) was staring at me in shock, eyes widened and arms crossed over her chest.

"You're such a dick!" She protests before leaving the table, snapping the napkin over her empty plate.

This is just great, things are going exactly how I imagined they would. Like shit, as always.

"Wow, this is like a second-hand embarrassment table" Poe muttered with a nervous chuckle.

"This was your idea!" I angrily point at him with my robotic arm and he swats it away, rolling his eyes.

"Nope, my idea was to try to have some fun. Catch up and spend time together. The 'being a jerk' idea was all yours" He playfully smiles as he taps me on my shoulder. I shrug him off, fuming.

"Fuck off" I get up from my seat and walk over the hall of the Temple. From a distance, I can see the kids playing with the nurse Droids and a few Padawans as well. At least someone is having decent fun in this fucking place.

I wander through the numerous groups of people talking, while they eat their dinner and sip their drinks. They're smiling at each other, laughing and enjoying themselves. This is why I hate this kind of event, forcing myself to get here every time and watch as they all look at me like I'm some kind of superhero. Deep, I know. They only get to see my shell, my outer behavior. No one can see or know what really happens inside my head, what I feel in my body.

They can sense the somewhat darkness seeping through my blood vessels, but I don't let anyone feel more than that. Not the intrusive thoughts, not the grieving or the sorrow, or even the hatred. I had to create a shield to protect myself from having empathy and it comes with the price of seeing people distance themselves from me. I watch as they look at me with fear, they avoid looking at me.

I'm still not convinced my team trusts me completely, but they never showed me otherwise. I've had Cal as my wingman for a couple of years now and we never really had arguments over the time, just now it seemed like I've crossed some lines when I confronted (Y/N). He's not the first person to hate my guts right now, and he sure won't be the last either. Neither will she, for a fact.

I found her leaving the ladies room just in time when she was met with my eyes roaming around the area, looking for her. (Y/N) shifted her gaze when she noticed my glance. From her demeanor, I realized she was trying to get rid of me, shoving herself among the people as she tried to blend in. My feet were quick to follow her, trying not to knock everyone down while I swimmed through the crowd. Jesus, I wouldn't take her for someone who can run that fast without having a regular exercising routine.

My hand grazed her wrists, aiming for her waist instead. The mere touch burned my skin, it was foreign after so long. It was completely odd for me to hold someone - a woman - by the waist. She turned over, trying to shove my hands off of her, not being strong enough for my fingers to slip.

"Let me go, Skywalker. Or I'll scream!" (Y/N) tried to stand at least an arm span from me. Her small hands eagerly held mine as she still struggled to get rid of my hold.

"Hey, calm down now. Let me talk for just a minute" I lowered my chin and showed some empathy before she decided to lose it and make a scene.

"I think you've said enough for today" She didn't move her hands from mine. I could feel (Y/N) was having a difficult time trusting me after the stunt I pulled, her eyes were squinted and her forehead was crinkled with annoyance.

I rolled my eyes, knowing I wasn't in the right for making excuses. I just wanted to have my fun with the guy, I didn't do any harm to him. "Look- I'm... sorry. I was an ass, I recognize that and I didn't mean to make you feel embarrassed".

Her expression dropped a little, but I can see she was going to be sarcastic. She was chuckling, looking at me with taunting in her eyes. "You really had me there, Anakin. For a moment I wasn't sure you had the word "sorry" in your vocabulary".

And then, the next second, (Y/N) went back to the previous angry look, shoving both of my hands from her waist. I rolled my eyes before letting out a groan as I scratched the back of my neck. "Why make this hard and just say you don't want my apology?".

She places one hand over her waist, while pinching her chin with the other. I swear to God, I barely have any patience for this kind of game. "Huh, come to think of it, I might actually just forgive you. The way you're grimacing, it must have been really hard for you to say that word".

I watch her send me a small smile before turning on her back, walking back to our table. I must be a really bad person if people think I can't just apologize when I do something wrong.

Before I even consider taking another step, I hear my name being shot out from the small stage. Here we go again with the show. Master Yoda was sitting down on a stool, holding a microphone in his tiny green hand, waving for me to come over.

Shit.

I forced a smile, feeling everyone's eyes burn into my back as I walked towards him, immediately balling my hands into fists from instinct of self protection. I might as well have social anxiety if that's even a thing. I stood there in front of dozens of people, some were clapping their hands, some were whistling and then there was Cal, who was definitely not even masking the way his eyes were rolling.

There was a speech, which I didn't manage to listen to. I was too busy keeping my eyes on Luke as he looked at me with a sparkle in his eyes, probably proud of his father for being there. Like I'm a motherfucking God. I'm sure this place belonged to Obi-Wan more than anything, although it was obvious he would go against it just like me. Whatever Yoda was yapping about just about sounded muffled to me, and I wish I could just kill myself.

"To the bravest Jedi Master, here is to" He celebrates, extending his little arms to me as he holds a fucking medal. "Proud of you, we all are".

I hear the claps again, the cheering and the warming celebration right above my eyes. But I don't feel it, I don't agree with all the adoration and admiration. My head whips to where Luke stands, he's jumping around and celebrating his own father. My own eyes glint with gratitude for having him next to me. He's my anchor, the angel sent from heaven to help me stay whole.

"I- Uh- Thank you for the support..." I heave as I feel a lump in my throat. "But I don't think I deserve this. I'm not sure it's good enough for me" My voice barely comes out, my hands are trembling as I hold the microphone with one, while the other grips the medal.

There's silence and shuffling around the hall. I'm sure Kestis would stand up and just scream saying I suck. But it never came. In fact, the only sound echoing through the room was from running feet. When I came to realize, my boy was standing right in front of me, holding the hem of my blazer. I look down at him, there's a frown on his face and it hits me. I disappointed my child too.

"But you're the bravest Jedi Master, dad! Everyone says you're the chosen one, you deserve it" He goes through his sentence nodding at every word he says. "You're a good person, daddy. We are proud of you".

I stare at him with my jaw slack and my mind spiraling, going blank as the words freeze in my mouth. The moment I take in everything he just said, my body can't help but keep completely stagnant. Yoda protests again, saying his last words as if he agrees with Luke, but it's hard to focus on my surroundings. I just step out of this torture and get a hold of the boy, pulling him into a hug as he wraps himself around my torso.

Even with my body feeling tense, closing my eyes didn't make a difference at this point. I squinted them shut as much as I could, clinging to Luke as if it was the last thing I had to do. It still wasn't enough for me to shake off the draining feeling, nor was I able to avoid listening to the murmuring as they went back to what they were doing. My hands were still shaking and feeling numb, my eyes shooting up immediately.

I clear my throat, pulling away from him just enough to speak. It came out hoarse and strangled. "I'll be right back, alright? Get back to your friends".

My blurry vision sent a shockwave through my body and I stiffened, every cell shooting an alarming feeling straight to my brain. I shake my head, trying to make sense of what's in front of me but everything seems too distorted. My boots heavily drag me out of there, leading me to a corner where no one would bother or ask questions about me. It becomes too hard to walk, my fingertips graze the wall like it was soap, slipping through it, and I can hear my blood pumping so loud that everything else becomes a haze.

I walk into a small room, which was probably a janitor's room, dropping to my knees as soon as I close the door behind me. My first instinct is to punch the wall, release the nerves stuck on me. I can feel the sweat dripping down my neck and my forehead, my hair sticking to the damp skin. The blazer and tunic are suffocating me and I have to force myself to undress before it gets harder to breathe. I groan when I notice the numbness over my body, my heart rate quickly picking up. I pace around the small room, breaking and throwing anything I see in front of me.

Just let it out, Skywalker. It will go away. It has to.

"You're so... fucking... ridiculous!" I say to myself as I keep walking in circles, kicking and punching. My airways become smaller each breath I take and I start wheezing.

"You're lame, Anakin. Fucking. Lame" My hands fly up to my face and I start smacking myself on the forehead for reassurance.

For a second, I lean against the small shelf in front me. I can feel something shift inside of me, my eyes became extremely dry and it burned. I snapped out of my thoughts when the door - which I could've sworn was locked - opened. (Y/N) stood there, shocked to see me like that.

She doesn't even take the hint, rather than just walks in and locks the door with both of us inside the small room.

"Anakin, what's wrong?" She looks at me, worried and scared. Her hands hesitantly reach out to my arms, but I grab her wrists before they touch me.

"What the hell are you doing here?" My tone was husky from the whisper screaming and from the anger.

She shifted her eyes between mine and my trembling hands gripping her. I could still barely see, my eyelids were twitching and they felt too heavy.

"Your- your eyes" (Y/N) motioned her hands, pulling them back, placing them over her mouth. "You're-"

My knees gave out before I could fucking yell at her again. I groaned so loud that it was deafening this time, my hands pulled my hair from the roots. The hot tears started to prick and I tried to blink them away. "Get out, now!"

I felt her startle next to me, taking a step back, and it was enough for me to get myself distant from her. I didn't need anyone seeing me like this, especially her. With my eyes closed and my fists clenching hard, I sit down and lean against the wall. I rest my elbows against my knees and shove my head back against the wall multiple times.

"Go away! Go away! Go away!" I scream out, my throat burning from the action and my head throbbing from the bashing.

"Anakin! Look at me, now. Please, it's just me" She speaks through a wavering voice. I feel one of her hands resting against my flesh one, the warmth spreading through my skin.

The touch always burned, it didn't feel repelling, it just felt awkward. Strange. It was hard to accept the gesture.

I shook my head for what felt like an entire minute, my mouth mumbling incoherent words and I still leaned against the wall. Her hand hovered over my jawline and I immediately clenched it, my arm instinctively shot upwards to grab her forearm and she yelped from the sudden action. "It's okay, Anakin. No one knows".

Slowly my eyes opened to meet her face standing inches from me, respecting the distance even though her hand was barely touching my face. The gears in my head started working against my will, my nose flared in rage and I immediately wrapped her throat around my metal hand. I stood right up, pushing her against the wall as she choked with the impact. Her hands gripped my arm with mercy, she tried to gasp for air as she tried to speak.

I didn't feel guilty, I didn't feel sympathetic, I didn't feel anything. All I could see right now was red and I could tell my eyes were bloodshot from how angry I was. And then her behavior shifted again by the way she was looking at me, she was panicking. She couldn't look at me just like she was doing seconds ago. I tilt my head and release her, but not fast enough to catch her before she drops to the floor on her knees. I can feel it now. I know that feeling.

The panic attacks almost never came with the deadly feeling of snapping someone's neck. And now I know why I feel the way I just did. The darkness I've been told about too many times before. If you let it in, you can't control it. It's been dormant for years, I know I feel it coming to the surface when I can't control my own emotions. This time, it was finally reaching out to the surface and breaking out of it. I stepped out and walked backwards until my back hit the wall again, watching as she stood on her feet.

"Anakin-"

I swallow the enormous pain in my throat. "You need to go". She struggled to disagree, her head shaking hesitantly. My chest was heaving, everything hurts and I'm still feeling numb as fuck. "Just go!"

It took me that long to finally break down and I did right in front of her. In front of someone I so much despised for failing to do her job and now I'm paying for being exactly who I promised myself I would be. The pain in my stomach was nauseating and I had to slump down against the wall, this time not giving a fuck I looked like a crying baby. I had too much in my head already.

She tried to hold my chin up to face her, and I watched as her hand stayed frozen only a few inches before she decided against it and carefully gripped my skin. (Y/N) stares at my soul intently, eyes roaming through my face as I hold back the urge of grunting.

"It's okay, it's not the time to be tough. I know I'm not your favorite person right now but let me help you" She tries to coax in a soothing voice.

I have the hardest time getting myself to react, as my body is still struggling against the episode I just had. I want to push her away, I want to swat her hand away from me, I hate that I feel too vulnerable to avoid any physical contact. I just can't. "I'm bad. I'm so bad" I rasp.

I can't even speak. I feel my throat burning, my skin burning, my lung burning. Every inch of my body feels like it's on fire. And I can't fight against it this time. She withdraws her hand from my face, sliding it against my robotic hand, closing it tightly. "Hey, you need to fight against it. You're still you".

I shake my head in disbelief and let out a gruff laugh. I haven't been myself in six years. I just work through it so I won't lose it. Everyday is a battle against the darkening feeling just for the sake of Luke's life, because he doesn't deserve that kind of father. He doesn't even deserve this father. "You don't know shit about me".

I expect her to back up and leave, but she stays crouched on my eye level, still gripping my hand. Her lips are pursed in a thin line, and her irises are boring into mine. I recognize that look, she's trying to figure me out, I shut it down and drop my head. "Stop it".

"They were yellow" She said in a whisper, and I shot my head up again. "Your eyes. They were-"

"I know... I've seen it happen before, once" I try to not make a big deal out of it, but there's only so much I can do about that. Because I know I can't avoid it from happening anymore.

"I'm not good. I'm not good for anyone" My confession almost came out as a sob. This time, I couldn't handle the stress and I couldn't even think about what I was going to do after what happened.

She's going to see me as a joke, as a pussy man who gets medals for being the bravest Jedi Master, while behind closed doors, he falls to his knees and cries his sorrows.

I'm not the Jedi I should be.

@jackie-on-the-loose @adorbzliz @himesuedi @kingdomhate @himesuedi @cl0esblogg @littlecoffeeadict @readingthingsonhere

[jovieinramshackle]

ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠 ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠!

Hello there! My name is Harry (you can also call me Jo/Joey or other nicknames!) and welcome to my blog! I like drawing silly twst art of silly queers kissing each other.

☆ Harry/Jo ☆ He/Him ☆ Greek ☆ 17 (March 1st)

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𝔸𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕘

DNI: PR0/C0MSHIP (inc3sts/p3do ships), T3RFS, ZI0NITS, AI ART, L0LI/SH0TACON, BASIC DNI CRITERIA. I know not everyone will care about my DNI, so remember I regularly check the blogs of people who actively interact with my blog for safety. I block anyone who I think breaks my DNI list. NOTE: I consider myself a semi-practising Queer Christian (specifically Greek Orthodox). My faith is a very personal part of my life, so I won't be bringing it up much (feel free to block #faith yap for the rare times I'll be using it). Using any type of religion as an excuse for hate won't be tolerated. Similarly don't be dicks to others for their religion if they're genuinely non-bigoted.

☆ My blog focuses on general yume-shipping content (oc x canon/selfship). I especially focus on my oc x canon of my oc Jovie and Azul, but there are other ones too! Check my carrd for my ships chart (a few ships I haven't posted about may be in there). ☆ My blog is named after my OC, I don't use the name "Jovie." You can still just call me "Jo/Joey" if you have difficulty remembering names and only look at my user. ☆ I'm nonbinary transmasc, bisexual and aro-spec—  as you can tell, I’m very queer. I enjoy implementing queer elements I relate to onto my ocs, especially when it comes to trans/non-cis ocs. ☆ I’m diagnosed with dyslexia and dysgraphia, I also may have undiagnosed ADHD. Please keep it in mind when interacting with me (and excuse awkward wording or misspellings)! ☆ Twisted Wonderland is very dear to me as a piece of media and I tend to be a bit sensitive with media I'm very attached to. So if you have criticisms about the game I would ask you to not mention them on my blog (that doesn't mean I don't agree, I just prefer to discuss things like that outside of my blog). ☆ This is an SFW blog, however, occasionally there may be a bit more suggestive art/posts of 20+ characters (specifically with Fellow/Ernesto because I'm down bad) so be aware of that. ☆ I’m VERY comfortable with friendly banter and teasing! Don’t be afraid to bully me into oblivion, especially if we’re mutuals (tone tags are appreciated).  ☆ I'm an EN player, but this blog is not spoiler-free for JP updates. Any JP content will be tagged with #twst jp and #twst jp spoilers. ☆ I'm a bit selective with who I follow/follow back. But if you ask to be mutuals, I won't say no! Just please be sure you follow me already and that you’ve seen me interact with you/your posts before. I’m uncomfortable with people I haven’t seen a lot of asking me to be mutuals.  ☆ For mutuals: Please keep in mind that I'm not great at keeping up with other blogs. However, I will still try to interact with you to the best of my abilities (similarly don't be afraid to interact with me AT ALL! I will be very happy if you do!). ☆ Dms are open! I pretty much never text first (kinda anxious about it) but I’m an extremely chill person and like to think I’m easy to talk to, so don't be afraid to message me! I would love to talk (keep in mind I’m a yapper). ☆ Inbox is always open, so feel free to send whatever, whenever (I may be quick or late to answer, but I will eventually)! ☆ Feel free to tag me in posts you think I'd like (especially of my faves)! Just don't tag spam me (unless I give you the go-ahead first). If we're mutuals feel free to add me to your tag lists (if you have one)!  ☆ There may be some non-twst art, reblogs, or rambles if the mood strikes (will include matters related to trans/queer/Palestine topics but I’ll try to avoid other political talks here).

tag list (for me to copy paste lmao): @ramshacklerumble @thehollowwriter @summerspook @scint1llat3 @skriblee-ksk

@cyanide-latte @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @oya-oya-okay @viperbunnies @jadelover69

@twsted-void @lallopsyou (lmk/dm if you wanna be added)

[starlightsearches]

hi star! I saw your post about some election season comfort, so I hope it's okay if I send in a request! ☺️ (this is @charlottesbookclub btw, that person who's very unhinged about your stunning hux arranged marriage au – that might contextualize this ask a little haha)

I'd be so down to hear any additional thoughts you have on hux and his wife!! 🧡🧡

I was having some random scattered thoughts, but do with these what you will or feel free ignore them entirely!

them visiting his wife's home planet (which maybe has seasons, and thus perhaps some nice fall foliage) and she's like "the colors are so gorgeous, it looks just like your hair" to hux and he gets all flustered

they finally take that shared bath he fantasized about when he saw her in the tub??

can we give hux space hot coco?? like maybe again, it's a thing on his wife's home planet and she gives him some and he gets one of those marshmallow/whipped cream mustaches (space version of course lol) and she laughs at him, and he's like "ah fuck" and she's like "no not like that, you just look cute" and then fluff??

idk if these are anything, but they were the autumnal themed fluff thoughts that were circulating through my brain! again, literally no worries if you'd rather not do anything with them, I'd be so down to hear anything you'd like to share! ☺️🧡

anyway, I just want to say thank you for doing this, because election anxiety is so real! 💕💕 and if you don't end up having the energy to get to this, no worries at all! ☺️ I just want to say that I appreciate you and your writing so much and I hope you're able to take care of yourself during this stressful time! 🥰🥰

AAAAAAHHHHHH YAY!!!! I'm so happy I'm not the only one who loves the arranged marriage AU and I will happily chat with you about it forever and ever and ever and ever 💖 thank you for your sweet request and your even sweeter words, my love! wishing you peace of mind!

Warnings: a few vague allusions to patricide but nothing specific 🤭

The air is crisper than you remembered—cleaner in your lungs than anything you'd been breathing on The Finalizer, despite all the filters and processes it went through as it circulated.

You pull in cold, aching lungfuls, full of the smell of smoke and decaying leaves and fine leather—from Armitage's hand in yours, warm even through his glove.

Maybe this is just what it feels like to breathe without your father around.

Your husband had something to do with it, you're sure. You haven't asked, and he hasn't mentioned it. All the gratitude in you is aimed in his direction, regardless. For more than just this.

"How long has it been," you ask him, quiet, like you might break the stillness, pop the comforting shell that holds you both, "since you've been planet-side for this long?"

His eyes, normally impenetrable and grey, shine green in the light of the sunset, and his breaths grow a little heavier when you press closer against him to stave off the cold.

"It's been— a long, long time."

When Armitage meets your eyes, his cheeks and nose are dusted with pink from the cold air, but the color only deepens when your lips brush the shoulder of his coat.

You tug him further into the copse of trees, just past the garden and the greenhouse, into the shelter of their branches. Vivid leaves dust the ground you walk and the sky in the spaces between sunlight, and your heart swells with a happiness you had never imagined for yourself.

You had sobbed, after your father told you, cried and cried into the soft dirt here beneath your feet before you had ever seen the man who was supposed to be your husband.

It had felt like a death sentence. An ending. A thin slip of silk tied over your eyes before the executioner pressed the blade to your throat.

But it's all so much sweeter than any life you could have dreamed of—to be here with a man who blushes at the brush of fingers, who shows you in his every movement, in his every look, how deeply devoted he is to you.

You come to a stop, gentle, turning to face your husband, finding his other hand and taking it in your own.

"What is it?" he asks, and his voice is strained, on a knife's-edge of anxious.

You part your lips to speak, but no words make it out, your eyes caught on something just above his earnest, and a little frightened, gaze.

It almost blends in—a little more green than the reddish-blond of his hair, and you pick the leaf out by the stem, holding it in the space between you.

"You match," you tell Armitage, and he scoffs a little, but doesn't pull his hand away, his fingers still gripping tightly at your own.

"Do you like them?" you ask, and his eyes stray from yours for a moment, taking in the scenery with a critical set to his brow, determined to answer you honestly.

"I do," Armitage nods, and you toss the leaf to the side, taking his hands again.

Your face folds into a smile.

"I love you, Armitage."

His eyes go wide. You've frightened him, but he won't let you pull away from his grip.

The space between you shrinks with each shuffle of your feet, moving closer because you want him to know you understand. Know that he won't chase you away.

"It's alright. You don't have to say it back."

Armitage nods, relieved—you feel it when his nose brushes your cheek, breath hot against your skin. Maybe he does say the words back to you in the seconds before his lips meet yours.

✨☕️✨ Cozy Time 2 ✨☕️✨

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Oh I got a good one!

Remember AU prompt 5? Well Imagine all the other fallen take an interest in the reader and they all begin fighting over them?

Request Prompt #33 - ✦💓

You couldn't be in any more of a pickle now. Apparently, you've figured out since we last left off from, that this is a seal dimension. A dimension specifically created by the witches in order to contain some very specific beings. And to be honest? You were currently considering just crumbling on the spot from anxiety. Because out of all the cookies you've seen here( aka, like, five you think?) you're the only one that's normal sized! How fun. ( Disclaimer: it is not fun, you are fucking terrified. ) You can already hear two of them fighting, well, so far it's only verbal so at least you aren't in too much danger. All you have to do is stay hidden... stay hidden... stay hidden. You open your eyes, the forest around you has changed again. You also could no longer see the other two cookie's arguing, you're pretty sure that their names had been Burning Spice and Mystic Flour? You weren't sure. But you did know that they were arguing about you. Or more specifically, how you got here. You sneak out from your former hiding place, the forest had definitely changed your location. It just... did that sometimes, that's why it was so easy for you to get lost. Whenever you hid from something in the shadows there was a good chance that the forest around you was going to change again. " Oh I'm terribly sorry for the wait, little star." You heard a voice echo through the forest. You froze up- what the heck forest? Weren't these strange teleports supposed to get you out of danger? I mean, that's what they did before, right? You were immediately seize with a gasp by a large hand made out of shadows, it slithered up speedily into the tree where it deposited you into the equally large hand of a certain individual. You cast your gaze up into the gigantic eyes of Shadow Milk Cookie, which stared at you with interest and amusement. In hindsight, maybe you should have stopped hiding in the shadows. " Aw, what's the matter little star?" He cooed, poking at your cheek. " Are you not happy to see me? That's very disheartening, you know?" He spoke in that kind of tone that you'd use with a baby or a small animal, you know the one. " I don't think I'd be particularly happy to see any of you." You retorted, earning a cackle from the gigantic jester. You knew more about the beasts than you did when you arrived here after all, and you knew that Shadow Milk was basically embodied deceit so you barely trusted a word he said. And yet, he seemed to have a genuine interest in your safety... If not only for his own personal goals. At least, that was your reasoning as you figured that if he was the one triggering the teleports, then he'd at least be looking out for you, right? You heard him sigh. " You know, you seem to love making things more complicated for yourself, hm? Now all the others know about your existence within the seal, and that's making things more rough for you, riiight?" He drew out that 'i' sound just to tease you, but you knew there was at least some truth to what he'd said. You nodded in reply, flinching at the sharp grin he gave you. " Welll~ It turns out I have just the solution for that! If you stick with me, then you'll be safe! No more of that 'running away' business." He offered, but you knew there'd be a catch. " But! In return... You have to help me get free and back out into the world, 'kay?" You hesitated, you'd doom the world as you knew it if you let him out, right? Did the world out there even exist as you knew it now? You have no clue as to how much time has passed since you zapped yourself in here. Shadow Milk was looking at you expectantly, and you didn't want to find out what would happen to you if you rejected his offer. " O... okay, I will."

[all-wrung-out]

Whumpblr Intro

Hey! I've gone far too long without actually making an intro, despite having this side blog up for a bit. So here we go!

I go by Tac when I'm interacting online (my main blog is calligraphic-tac, and that's my chaos-corner where I try to post things I like, things that inspire me, and my more general writing, when I can actually get words out). Pronouns are she/her, although they/them are good backups.

I've been into whump for as long as I can remember, but in my 33 years on the planet, I only learned last year that there's a whole community for it. I'd heard the term "whump" before, and kind of knew what it was, but never made the connection to the type of media I like.

There are some whump tropes that I'll always enjoy, but the favorite flavor of the week is usually on rotation from the following list:

Superhero whump

Kidnapping

Defiant/Stoic/Strong/Snarky Whumpees

Self-sacrificial Whumpee

Pushing oneself until collapse (especially for Heroes/Leaders)

Whumpers who feign rage, but are actually very calculated and careful in their treatment of Whumpee

Whumpers who actually lose their temper, especially when triggered by a defiant whumpee

Team whump

Non-human Whumpee (especially when it pertains to the good, old-fashioned "what makes us human" trope)

Drug/poison whump (Fucked up balance and altered perception, anyone?)

Medical whump (specifically, medical treatment, but "This is gonna hurt.")

Lab whump (especially testing the limits of a living weapon or attempting to forcibly manifest powers that may or may not exist)

The good, old-fashioned Beating trope

Pinned/Trapped

Drowning/asphyxiation

Environmental/Wilderness whump (extreme temperatures and survival)

Animal attacks

Used as bait

Infected wounds (especially when it comes to treatment of said wounds)

Self-surgery or self-care

Mind control (Specifically, conflict between Whumper/Whumpee within Whumpee's mind while Whumper tries to take control. OH! And Whumper causing Whumpee to experience things that didn't happen; I have a really neat story idea for this one!)

I'm sure I'm missing some, but I suppose I can amend this post when I remember some more. Some of my whump tastes are also kind of specific, so listing them concisely can be a challenge.

Not going to list my squicks here. (As the saying goes: "If you don't want someone to get your goat, don't let them know where it's tied.") However, if you're looking for NSFW-type whump, I don't typically write that. (Not for other folks, anyway; I'm rather terrible at it.)

I used to write a lot as a kid, but was often ashamed of my affinity for whump, so any time I tried to write it, I chickened out and wrote something else. I still wrote plenty of action and peril, but the whump was usually not as heavy as I initially imagined.

I've also been in a bit of a writing slump for... oh, goodness... It's going on 14 years now. I really want to get out of it, so I'm hoping whump writing will help.

Fun fact about me: A lot of my stories are grown from a kernel of whump. I think of a specific scenario I want to put an OC through, and then a whole story grows out of it.

Some of my favorite whump blogs include: @whump-me @whumperofworlds @allthewhumpygoodness @emmithar-blog @soheavyaburden @whumperfultime @roblingoblin285 @blackrosesandwhump @evilwriter-originals I'm still collecting whump blogs to follow, so feel free to interact if you're one such blog!

Also, I'm going to be rusty as hell, so please bear with me while I get my writing brain reinstalled in the ol' skull-housing.

Last thing (I know this post is long already): I've seen the way the whump community interacts and I'm happy to be a part of it. I'm not especially social myself, but I'm nonetheless proud to be part of such an amazing group of folks. Keep rockin', y'all!

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #191

1. Hi! Yesterday I found a highly specific fic on tumblr and i started reading it, but I lost it and somehow I can't find it in my history. I had found it on tumblr, under somebody shitposting that crowley and aziraphale decide who tops or bottoms every evening based on who received the check... the actual fic's plot is that one evening they're dining and crowley tries to joke that waiters always give him the check because they think he tops, but he took for granted that Aziraphale hadn't understood the joke so he laughs it off, but Aziraphale DID and he gets irritated about it. They go to Aziraphale's place, they try to talk it out and smut ensues. I think Aziraphale says at one point "I don't always want to be your stupid friend". But I'm sure there was a reversed wall slam. Help me if you can, please?? - anon

2. Hello! I am looking for a lost fic that I couldn't find in my AO3 history or your tags :( It's Aziraphale POV, takes place mostly in the bookshop. Aziraphale is excited to make a human friend who asks what A.Z. Fell stands for, and Aziraphale panics and says "Anthony." Human friend asks Aziraphale to a lecture (or the like) and Aziraphale says yes not realizing it's a date. Crowley overhears him being called Anthony and cracks up, and human friend mistakes A and C for a couple. If you or any of your followers know what this fic is I'd be so grateful! Thank you! - @smallspaceplant

3. Hi guys, first off I'd like to thank you for all the love and effort you put here, and it's helped me loads! I'm looking for a fic that I read a long, long time ago. It was so long ago that it might have been posted on ff.net, I really can't remember. I'd like to think I've read it about 10 years ago, but can't be sure. What I do remember is that Aziraphale fell and went with the name Zira or maybe Zirah, favored a cane with intricate carvings that Crowley(not that name though) gave him, and he used that to, a, sort a problem with the extra baby, and Crowley(or whatever his angelic name was) found blood on it and was understandably freaked out. Does anyone remember this fic? - anon

4. Hello! I’m looking for a fic and I only have a vague recollection of some scenes so I completely understand if you can’t pin it down! It’s 100% book omens, and I’m pretty sure it was written before the show came out. I’m also pretty sure it’s less than 10k words. Crowley and Aziraphale sleep together for the first time and the next morning Crowley is having Thoughts about whether this was considered a temptation. Aziraphale shuts it down and kisses him again. They show each other their wings. In the end, they kind of go their separate ways but agree to meet up again some time in the future. Again, sorry for the lack of details! - anon

5. Hi! I’m looking for a fic where god sends Aziraphale to another timeline? Or something? Because the apocalypse happened and god said something about him being happy and Aziraphale can’t be happy without Crowley (I think Crowley became a star after death) He ends up being polite but super distant with Crowley in this new timeline bc Crowley’s last words were to leave him alone Begging for anyone to help🧎🏻‍♀️- anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[i-promise-i-am-not-on-drugs]

Hi! This is my presentation post! I will update it from time to time! ^^

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— I am a teenager (between 15 and 19)!! Please don't ask me to send you money to help you with what you're going through, I will not be able to help you. It will only make me sad and uncomfortable, and make you lose time that you could use by asking the same thing to someone who can actually help you, and I will block you, I'm sorry.

And I've just been asked that so just to be clear: No, I am not interested in any kind of "sugar relationship", thank you very much. (*traumatized crying*)

— Please do not interact with me if you are racist, homophobic, transphobic or a terf, if you willingly body shame people, if you do not support and respect the disabled and LGBTQUIA+ communities, if you are sexist, if you promote any kind of non con/illegal-relationship (I'm talking about irl relationships. I don't really care if you're a proshipper, but I will probably block you if I get too weirded out by your ships.), if you are a nsfw-only account, if you are a Trump supporter, or if you don't like to see the most random post at any time of the day. Once again, I will block you.

— I am genderfluid! You can use any pronounces while referring to me, but I do have a preference for they/them most of the time. :)

— Also, I mostly go by Eleana online, but I like to be called Len too. Or by my url idc. (you can also invent a new nickname if you want!! I absolutely love those TuT) :3

— I do not have the energy to find the exact label for my sexuality, but I like to think of myself as queer and aroasepec! ^^

— I am mostly active in the following fandoms: stranger things (byler actually but shh), the goldfinch, one piece, and many others! Those are only the current mains. :)

— Most of my posts/reposts are absolutely random and probably a bit confusing lol

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Here are some of the things I'll reblog/post that are related to...

... Stranger Things

— Lots of fanarts!

— Fic recommendations!

— Theories and gates

— Pretty much anything byler-related

— Sometimes actor related things. (Yes I do support Noah btw, don't come to me if you want to hate on him.)

— Memes!!

... The Goldfinch

— Anything Boreo related (fics, fanarts, headcanons, anything.)

— Character analysis and headcanons!

— Memes 👍

... One Piece

— Anything related to the ASL brothers (as long as it's not romantic. I do not ship them. They're brothers.)

— Anything related to the Whitebeard crew (as long as it's not a ship too. They're family.) (I'm only kinda okay with Marco/Ace because they can be a nice dynamic if well written and in an AU, but that's it.)

— Pretty much any ship related things that I find nice. I'm a multishipper in this fandom! (I'm chill with pretty much anything as long as it dosen't involve families!)

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Some random things about me! :D

— I absolutely loooove music. It doesn't have to be any specific kind of music, I could listen to pretty much anything and I'd be happy, because it's music.

— I am a cat person, and I'd like to adopt one or two when I'll have my own place!

— I am an extraverted introvert! (an introvert who has a group of extroverted friends and who was infected by them)(but still an introvert)(i dislike or am neutral about most people irl)

— Most people say I look antipathic or scary, but really I just have a "do-not-come-near-me-or-I'll-bite-your-head-off" resting face.

— My favorite love languages are physical touches and words of affirmation. :)

— I like to talk with people about their experiences and feelings, and I love to give advices when I can! :)

— My memory works in a really strange way: I can remember word by word some parts of books and their entire storyline when I've read them years ago, but it took me 7 years to know the birthdate of a friend of mine that I met when we where both three.

— I sometimes have an hyperfixation on a random thing for months and then suddenly loose any interest about it for literally no reason at all. I will might come back to it after years months and fall back into the rabbit hole lol

— And (you probably guessed that by now) I tend to overshare things about myself when people let me. (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

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You can also find me here! ^^

AO3 →

SPOTIFY →

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And that's pretty much it! Wow I'm actually impressed if you finished to read all that lol--

Thank you for being here, I love you! (/platonically) ^^♥

[nondelphic]

thank you so much for 700 followers!! this is so insane to me and i'm so happy people are enjoying my posts.

i know most of you are here for my ""relatable writing posts"" but i also know some of you are interested in who i am, and specifically my writing, so to celebrate hitting 700 followers i thought i'd give you a taste of my writing !! i know i was supposed to tag some ppl but i forgot to write your names down and i can't remember who wanted to be tagged and who didn't 😭😭😭

these are all drafts and i def don't consider myself a great writer, but i think i'm okay at storytelling. regardless, enjoy it for what it is!

this excerpt is from my first completed draft of "the midnight chase." for context, marley is aroace.

-

They sat in silence for a while before Marley shifted towards Lucas. She bit her lip, uncertain of how honest to be. “Lucas?”

He looked at her. “Yeah?”

“You know the party last month? Remember how Elvis kissed me?”

Lucas nodded. Marley averted her gaze, focusing on a path beyond the pond that led to a cliff overlooking the ocean.

“Do you think it’s possible to want that sort of closeness, without wanting it all?” Marley could feel Lucas gaze on her.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

Marley sighed and let her gaze drop to her feet. Her shoelaces had come undone.

“I mean, I don’t like Elvis like that, but when he kissed me, I felt… warm inside. Like, it’s not something I crave, but it felt nice regardless.”

Lucas remained silent for a moment. Marley looked up to see his gaze thoughtful as he processed her words. The gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird were the only sounds filling the silence between them. Marley could feel her heartbeat quicken, wondering if she had said too much, or if Lucas might misunderstand her.

Finally, Lucas sighed softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I get what you’re saying, Marley. I think… it’s natural to want closeness, to feel connected to someone, even if it’s not necessarily about romance. It’s human, you know? We all crave that warmth, that feeling of being wanted or cared for, even if it’s just for a moment.”

Marley nodded, relieved that he understood, but still, there was something else she needed to express. She glanced between Lucas and her shoelaces, her senses searching for any sign of judgement or discomfort, but all she saw was patience and a gentle curiosity.

“I guess it just made me question something that’s been nagging me for a long time,” Marley continued, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Like, what if I don’t ever want that kind of connection with someone, but I still want to feel close to people? Is that okay?”

Lucas’s expression softened even more, and he reached out, gently placing a hand on Marley’s shoulder. “Marley, there’s no right or wrong way to feel about these things. You’re allowed to want whatever it is you want—or don’t want. It doesn’t make you any less valid or any less… you.”

Marley let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Thanks, Lucas. I guess I just needed to hear that.”

and here's another excerpt that shows a bit more of the story...... kinda.

-

As Lucas excused himself to go to the bathroom, Marley looked for Chio. Instead, she ran into Silas.

“Hey,” he said, holding his arm out. “Let’s dance.”

Initially, Marley wanted to say no, but something in Silas’ expression made her do the opposite. She took his arm and he led her to a more secluded part of the dance floor. Marley noticed people staring at them as they walked, not unsurprisingly, considering her and Silas' history.

Silas put a cautious hand on Marley’s back as the song transitioned to a sentimental and slow piano arrangement. 

“You know the map I gave you?” Silas asked. Marley smiled. Yes, the one she and her friends had managed to figure out completely. “Did you solve it?” 

Something in Silas’ expression told Marley he already knew the answer. Did he want help? Had he solved it?

“Yes,” Marley said. Silas nodded, and a smile crept up on his face.

“Me too. Which means… the winner will be determined by who gets to the middle first.”

Marley nodded. “You’re doing it alone?” 

“Yes. I work best alone. I know you’re doing it with your friends.” Something in Marley churned at his answer. It was a typical Silas answer, a simple phrase etched with an edge of passive aggressiveness. Marley had solved it with the help of her friends. He had solved it alone, using only his brains.

“Teamwork is an underappreciated tool,” Marley said, finding herself distancing herself slightly from Silas’ hold on her as they danced.

“Of course. It’s important to be able to work with others. At the end of the day, though, you'll be alone.”

Marley looked into Silas’s eyes, trying to decipher his expression. There was something behind his words, a hint of loneliness perhaps, or maybe a sense of inevitability. She decided to keep the conversation light, not wanting to spoil the mood of the evening.

“Maybe so, but having friends by your side can make a huge difference,” Marley replied, her tone gentle but firm.

Silas nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just... sometimes it feels like relying on others is a weakness.”

Marley shook her head. “It’s not a weakness, Silas. It’s a strength. Knowing when to ask for help, and knowing you can trust those around you, that’s powerful.”

They continued to dance in silence for a few moments, the slow melody wrapping around them. Marley felt a strange mix of empathy and rivalry towards Silas. She understood his drive and his determination, but she also saw the value in the support system she had with her friends.

As the song came to an end, Silas offered her a small smile. “Thank you for the dance, Marley. And for the perspective.”

Marley returned the smile. “Anytime, Silas. Good luck with the challenge.”

“Good luck to you too,” Silas replied, giving her a polite nod before walking away.

Marley watched him go, feeling a mixture of emotions. She was grateful for her friends and the support they provided, but she also understood the weight Silas carried. She hoped that one day he would realize the value of camaraderie.

Lucas returned from the bathroom, a curious look on his face. “Did I miss something?”

Marley laughed, shaking off the remnants of her conversation with Silas. “Just a dance with Silas. Nothing major.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Shall we continue dancing?”

“Absolutely,” Marley said, feeling lighter and more determined than ever.

They returned to the dance floor, joining their friends in the celebration. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, dancing, and shared moments that Marley knew she would treasure for a long time.

As the night wound down, Marley found herself sitting with Chio and Maya on a bench outside the hall, the cool air in the stone-cladden corridor a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dance floor.

Maya pulled out her phone from under her dress. Marley watched her. “Where did you keep that?”

“Oh, I have all my dressed sewn to include hidden pockets. I hate not being able to carry stuff.”

Chio rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ah, yes, custom sewn gowns with pockets, what a normal and humble thing!”

“It’s not my fault that default dresses don’t come with pockets already,” Maya countered.

“Calling normal dresses ‘default dresses’ is crazy,” Marley snorted. She looked at Chio’s dress. It was a beautifully simple dress with long, wide arms and a simple fabric belt around the waist, in a bright orange colour, contrasting Chio’s blue hair in a seamlessly effortless way.

“To be fair, my dress is also customised,” Chio sighed, smoothing out her skirt, before smirking. “I took it in two centimetres at the waist.”

The three girls burst out into laughter. Maya looked at her phone.

“What time is it?” Chio asked.

“10:45.”

“We should get ready.” Marley said. The Midnight Chase started at midnight, just as the name suggested. And she was not running down the maze in a long dress. Well, she could, she knew multiple people participating who were going directly from the dance to the maze. But they weren’t in it to win it. Marley and her friends were.

Hopefully, Silas would find that working alone is actually the greatest weakness.

Marley had a gnawing feeling that her stance would be proven right.

HELP i'm so scared y'all are gonna think my writing is trash because LET'S BE FR THIS IS JUST FROM MY FIRST DRAFT!!!! i haven't yet edited these scenes so they're kinda cringe but i wanted to show my main project. i do have different writing styles depending on genre though, and i'm tempted to show some of my comedy writing. it's pretty hilarious, if i may say so myself.

anyway, thank you again for 700 followers. thank you so much. each like, reblog, reply, message, or ask brings me so much happiness. you have no clue how much your interest warms my heart (or maybe you do because you know how social media manipulates our brains and their reward system)

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 14A: Where Do We Go Now?

Soundtrack: “Sweet Child O' Mine,” Guns N' Roses, 1987 [click here to listen]

She's got eyes of the bluest skies As if they thought of rain I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place Where as a child I'd hide And pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by...

Philadelphia || June 1988

Claire pushed her chair back a bit from the desk. Raised her arms. Stretched. Breathed deeply.

Reading for the eighth time the words she’d finally tapped out on the Selectric this morning, after days of rolling them around in her head.

Chief Physician

Boston Medical Center

To Whom It May Concern,

As you may be aware, I am a trauma surgeon at BMC. Twelve months ago I was placed on administrative leave by the BMC, and my medical license was suspended, pending the resolution of BMC’s internal investigation into my conduct. The investigation started by looking into a near-fatal error I committed during a surgery, and then quickly discovered that I had not only been forging prescriptions and stealing painkillers for quite some time, but also developed a severe addition to those painkillers.

As you may also be aware, I did not contest the actions taken by BMC. Subsequently I enrolled in an intensive drug rehabilitation program in North Carolina. I am happy to share that I am almost twelve months clean, having completed the program last December and successfully maintained my sobriety since then.

I have previously communicated to the Board, on several occasions, my sincere regret for what I did and my remorse for the incredible lapse of professional judgment and ethical standards I demonstrated. I repeat those regrets to you now.

Which is, in part, why I am writing you today. I wish to understand what else is required of me to return to work, in any capacity, at BMC.

Making amends for wrongs was something that Claire and Geillis had talked about a lot, during her time at The Ridge. Yes, doing that was a formal part of any 12 Step program.

But it was more than just saying sorry – it required the addict to recognize the wrongs.

To own them. To understand why they had happened, and the impact they had had on others.

Because nothing sounded more inadequate in the English language than the two words, I’m sorry.

But words matter. And this attitude shift was a crucial step on any addict’s road to recovery.

Making amends was something that Claire and Jamie had talked a lot about, too. She had seen him make amends many times, in their short time together – and quite often during their last few weeks on the road, as they traveled city to city for Print’s acoustic tour and Jamie came into contact with many people who had last seen him drunk/rude/high/demanding/hung over/acting like a total asshole during the last (disastrous) tour in ’86.

He made it a point to really talk to each person, to apologize for specific things he remembered doing. No matter if it was the venue manager, or the catering guy, or the lighting guy, or the security guard. I was a dick when I was drunk. I said terrible things. I hurt you. I’m sorry.

Two weeks ago in Chicago, he couldn’t sleep after a fucking incredible show at the old Chicago Theater. The adrenaline buzz after the show so much better than any pills or bourbon or groupie could have given him. He had tossed and turned for hours, until finally, quietly slipping out of their bed and perching in the easy chair in their suite at the Palmer House, watching Claire shift restlessly under the covers without him.

But of course, she knew when something was wrong. She woke, and turned to face him, easing up on one elbow. Watching him back. Giving him space.

When he finally spoke, it was just above a raspy whisper.

“How can you be here, Claire, when all you do is hear me talk about how awful I was to so many people?”

Her heart did break a little bit. “Because I never knew that version of you, Jamie. What I care about is who you are now.”

He sighed, breath ragged. “This shit is so fucking hard.”

“I know, baby.” Somehow she was standing beside him, and blindly he buried his face into the warm skin of her belly. She threaded her fingers in his hair, held him close as his pulse spiked.

“Deep breaths, Jamie. Focus on me. I’m here.”

He had had several panic attacks during the tour. Which could be chalked up to anything – the stress of changing hotels every day, the crush of fans and press that clustered around their tour bus when they arrived in a new city, the women who pulled down their tops in the front row at every concert, the Jack Daniels bottles and little baggies of powder left in his dressing room before the show in Wilkes-Barre.

But instead of smashing to pieces all alone, she sheltered him. He knew when to ask for help. And always found her just in time to crash against her, shaking and crying in bathroom stalls and green rooms and even once on the deserted tour bus. And each time she was so grateful for the psych rotation she’d done in med school that prepared her to help him.

But that didn’t make it any easier.

“Breathe in, Jamie. Think about how much I love you.”

He drew in a deep, sobbing breath.

“That’s right. Now exhale. I’m never going to leave you.”

He exhaled, shoulders shuddering.

“And inhale, Jamie. We can get hamburgers for breakfast again, if you want.”

He inhaled, and she felt a faint smile against her belly.

“That’s right. And out. Think about how amazing our wedding night will be.”

He exhaled. Gently bit the soft, soft skin above her bellybutton. She shivered, and smiled.

“Good. Center on me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She counted along with him – twenty four more deep breaths. Caressing his forehead, and kissing his hair, and loving him and loving him and loving him.

Finally when he had calmed down, she crawled back into bed, and he held her so close against him. Kissing her forehead. Whispering endless words of love.

“If I ever fuck up with you, Claire, know I’ll always own it.”

She kissed his eyebrows. “The same for me, Jamie. I’d rather be mad at you than not have you.”

He had said the same words to her this morning. A promise he never tired of repeating. Murmured against her hair when he bent over to kiss her in the bed, body thrumming with energy.

Colum had booked a studio here in Philadelphia for the day, so that the band could lay down recordings of the acoustic tracks they’d played to dozens of sold-out crowds during the tour. With the incredible press from the tour – thanks in no small part to Geordie Ash’s profile in Rolling Stone – and bootlegs in wide circulation, it was time. And for once, the band agreed with the label.

She would join him later, of course. But today she needed the time to herself, to finally write and then mail the letter to Boston.

All because of Jamie.

“You can’t stay in a state of limbo forever, Claire,” he had said one night, meeting her eyes in the bathroom mirror as he gently brushed her shower-wet hair. “And I know we still don’t know where we’ll live when we’re married. But you have the right to know.”

She had sighed, jamming her hands in the deep pockets of the hotel bathrobe. “I don’t want to go back to that life.”

He had set down the hairbrush they shared, slipping his hands into the pockets, pulling her close against him. “I know. But you can’t have that door hanging open, Claire. Whether you open it or close it, you know I support you. But you’re not doing yourself any favors by not knowing.”

She had nodded, and pursed her lips. Smiling just a little as he kissed the shell of her ear.

She blinked, and turned back to the typewriter.

I have been traveling for the past few weeks, and won’t be back to Boston for at least the next month. Although I may not be immediately reachable by mail or telephone, I’m enclosing the contact information for someone who can get any letter or other message to me.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Dr. Claire Beauchamp

She gently pulled the paper from the typewriter roll. Signed her name. Took a deep breath. Began to address the envelope.