#soaked with tears

[scopophobia-polaris]

Sorry if this is overstepping bc using social media as a Social Platform gives me anxiety so bad i will throw up but like. Oh my god, youre such a creative inspiration??? To me??? Like okay ive been following your zelda stuff for a While and just aaaaa its so good. Like. 1) I love your worldbuilding??? So much??? Your version of Hyrule is the only one I've seen that makes me feel like its a real place where people live and that has a breathing ecosystem and folklore and society and I get so excited whenever I get to learn more about it?? And you made me really emotionally invested in OOT which was just a zelda setting I never thought too much about but now Timey is so near and dear to my heart like. Love their immaculate vibes!!

And just. If youll allow me to gush for a second. You're really good?? At comics??? Like you inspire me to try and work on comics myself bc you're just really good at dialogue and general page pacing and your paneling is so fun like. Idk . i just really like comics as a storytelling medium and you do really fun stuff with your panel composition and how you convey your ideas in illustration and i wish??? I was better at describing it but the world youve built and the story youre telling is just so so impressive to me I think its cool as shit. Also ur OCs rock even as somebody who p much just knows them from Memory of Younger Days I think they are very cool and interesting and I wish I could read a bajillion books about them.

Just like. I love your work a ton!!! And wish i was better at social media use and literacy to better convey it but just. Ur a big inspiration for me to work on my own projects and i think youre pretty amazing at what you do! So. Keep up the good work with whatever youre wanting to do, and also sorry if this comes across as weird!!

NO NO NO there is not an overstepping of boundries!!!!! Honestly thank you a whole bunch like 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️ I don't know how to explain but I get very worried all the time that stuff isn't going right and it's nice to know when people do like this....thing???? I'm doing??? And I just like knowing....is that weird? But seriously thank you I don't know how to say this in proper words but, I really do genuinely appreciate what you guys reach our and say such kind things and are just so nice😭‼️ and it gives me a billion warm and fuzzy feelings and It's like ah yeas keep working someone is watching you are wanting to keep working so keep going!!!! Its...it's not over stepping at all and thank you 🥺

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

moonshine leaks in through the window blinds.

suguru is undressing, sluggishly, in the dim darkness of your bedroom. he is weary; as are you. it’s been a long, long day, celebrating in the morning, in the evening, going to the spring festival downtown and grabbing hotpot with satoru and shoko right after — stopping by their favorite bar before finally heading home. fatigue drags your bones against soft flooring, as you rummage through his closet, pull your worn hoodie over your head and let it fall to the floor. 

suguru’s birthday is always eventful. your boyfriend is a well-loved man, after all; no less by you than anyone else. it’s been worth it, worth every ache in your joints, to see him smile and scoff and swallow down mouthfuls of soba and cake. to see him a little sheepish, a little tipsy, a little more open with his heart than usual. sweetness brings it out of him. 

(you’re happy, that this year was a success as well.)

a low groan. you turn your head, to watch as he cranes his neck, stretches his arms, as the muscles of his bicep coil and twitch under the linen of his shirt. as he slips out of it, lets his hair fall, a hair tie slipping down to rest around his wrist. his roots must ache, by now — you wonder if he’ll let you massage his scalp, just to help him unwind. but suguru gets restless after being pampered for too long. could barely stop himself from pouring your drink, over and over, carrying you the last bit home even though his own legs must have yearned for respite too.

sometimes, you want to ask him — can you please just let me love you?

(his answer is usually a smile.)

”god,” comes the voice of an angel, raspy and sweet. the heel of his palm meets the blade of his shoulder, digs into the skin as if to soothe it. ”’m exhausted.”

a smile tugs your lips up, blooms like a peach tree and flutters in tune with your heartbeat. you put your arms through the gaps of an oversized tee, press your nose against the fabric and inhale, the scent of laundry detergent and musk soothing your muddled senses. after pulling it over your head, you’re left in nothing but your boxers and his shirt. it makes him melt, you’re more than aware. when your hair is tousled, from the midnight air and satoru’s restless hand — when you’re engulfed in nothing but him.

”well, we walked a lot,” you exhale, sending him a sweetened glance. he returns it with a huff. 

”talked a lot, too,” he mutters, too tired to sound as displeased as he’d probably like. you drink in the sight of his skin under lunar light, lap up the excess cobalt, swallow softly. ”why is it that all my energy magically drains as soon as satoru’s involved…?”

a breathy giggle. ”he loves you,” you supply, not-so-helpfully. ”he just hadn’t had a chance to bug you in a while, i guess.”

a scoff. 

”he has a funny way of showing it…”

suguru unbuckles his belt, kicks off his jeans, slumps back on the bed with a silent sigh — the mattress creaks beneath his weight, allows him to get comfortable as he rests on the edge. gazing at you, patiently, spheres of rusted-gold through lidded eyes. heavy with what you know to be fatigue.

he pats his lap, one heavy hand. 

”come here, sweetheart.”

(his voice alone melts you down to the marrow. sweet and smooth, roughed up from the outing; the purr of a needy cat, silken sheets and jasmine buds.)

a moth to a flame, or a lamb to a knife — you are pliant as you move towards your lover. weak, as you tuck your legs over his knees and slide into his lap.

an inhale. he buries his face in your shirt, his shirt — smiles, noses against your pulsepoint and the tender valley of skin between your jaw and shoulder. engraves your scent into his being.

”i love you,” he whispers, a low lull of his tongue. a kiss against your neck. ”thank you for today.”

the words have left you long before your mind tugs at your lips. ”i love you too, sugu.” you nuzzle against his locks, relish as they tickle your sensitive skin. ”i don’t think i did much, though…”

”no?” you hear the smile, the hint of a chuckle, even as he lifts his fingers to pinch your little nose. ”you don’t think so, silly?”

he tuts — eyes gleaming under artificial light, the lamp on your nightstand. 

”even made me breakfast.”

”… it turned out so-so.”

an exhale, at your little frown. humoured, your mind supplies, if a little exasperated. he clicks his tongue, rubs his thumb over the bridge of your nose before letting go. ”it was lovely,” he corrects. ”you’re lovely.”

and you know that he’s displeased. you know by the way he says it, how softly he shuts you down and guides you in the right direction, lips smearing kisses on your vulnerable skin as if reproaching you. he’s sleepy, can’t help but be lazy, no less thorough in his mission. has no mercy for your jaw, or collarbone, or neck. you’re shivering, shaky sigh slipping out — curling your arms around his neck and angling your head to give him more room to work with. he can be greedy, tonight, you don’t mind. whatever he wants. his fingers find solace in the plushness of your hips, squeezes softly, molds the flesh. a silent thank you. 

for what, you wonder.

melting when your skin meets his? letting him touch you like this? trusting him to do it gently?

your mind is tangled up in knots. just letting him love you, hold you close, feeling his heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt — ba-dump, ba-dump, like waves crashing into shore. you hope he cannot hear the constant patter of your own; hope he cannot sense the prickling of your nerves. he might think the night is over, but you still have something more to offer.

… or, at least you should.

it’s nerve-racking. your heartbeat knocks at your ribs, sticks its head out to ask how you’ve been. better, you’d like to say. a lot less close to passing out. silly, silly body, never letting you get off easy — never being of any use. it shouldn’t be this scary, not even close. you know your lines. you’ve practiced all week. but it is, and it’s paralyzing, and suguru is so tired he’s just gnawing at your earlobe now. 

clammy hands, beating heart, shaky fingers.

(you wish it was easier to say what’s inside.)

”i… have another present,” you mumble, finally, into his hair. as if that will muffle it. swirling a lock around your finger, playing with it to ease your mind.

suguru blinks. you feel the flutter of his eyes against your skin, the ghosts of pretty raven lashes. he pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes — watching you, closely, to see what you mean. attentive. 

there’s a certain look in his eyes.

”… more?” he asks, voice scraping against the walls of his throat, the buzzing of a dragonfly. he slips a hand under your shirt, curls it around your naked waist to tug you closer, keep you safe and still. ”haven’t i been spoiled enough, today?”

he’s smiling. you don’t think he knows what you mean, but he must sense your hesitance. keeps his hand on your hip, rubs comforting circles into your skin, seems to delight in the way your body can’t help but tremble all while leaning into it. stupid, beautiful suguru, stupid wandering hands. he’s only making your heartbeat sputter more. 

it’s too difficult. even after that peptalk with satoru and shoko, you can’t find the words you need. 

finding a birthday gift for suguru is always a hurdle. every single year. you can never decide on what to go for, never settle for just one thing — because he’d be happy with anything, you know that, but it’s not enough when you’re as smitten as you are. when all you want is to give him something that will make him smile brighter than ever, a smile that’s just for you.

what would make him the happiest? what do you want to tell him, more than anything? 

you always agonize over it, sure, but this year…

(even if it’s a little much, you —)

”haha… well.” 

you shift on his lap, tuck your thighs around his waist, just needing stability. and it’s muscle memory, your skin against his, bodies molding together like liquidated gold. he watches you, patiently — doesn’t rush or force the words out. a sun god in your room, on your bed. tangled up in sheets he washed for you. 

a sliver of sunshine, that belongs only to you.

what is there to say?

even now, you can’t uncap the lid over your heart. your hands are too shaky to dust off the longing. if you could, you’d say something like: 

i love you, i love you, i love you.

i want to wash your hair, and kiss your eyelids when you sleep, and scrub the rot from off your bones. i don’t want to care about what anyone else thinks. 

i could tell you i love you a million times.

also, do you want to get married? 

i know i’ve made you wait — you always wait so patiently — but would you mind?

would you be mine forever? 

a sudden sting. your teeth sink into your bottom lip, as if to silence your own thoughts, the phantom taste of heavy iron blooming on your tongue. slick vines wrap themselves around your teeth and sew your mouth shut. no words, no breaths, no nothing. 

just clammy hands, beating heart, shaky fingers. 

(you wish you could be kinder to the monster in your ribs.)

”… tomorrow,” you sigh, at last, the word forcing its way through your throat. you slump your cheek against his forehead, fleeing from his prying gaze, the question on your mind. ”… you’ll get it tomorrow.”

(shoko’s voice rings in your ear. coward, she’d say. loser, satoru would add. they’d be right.)

stupid, silly heartbeat. beating so loudly you can’t even find your voice. 

but suguru only smiles.

”… not today?” he brushes against your bottom lip, traps it between his thumb and pointer finger. tilts his head, softly. ”did you change your mind?”

you melt, into his touch, head dipping forward. 

”… just wanna wait a little longer,” you sigh, a little shaky, feeling sheepish. ”is… that okay?”

”of course.” his answer comes as soon as you ask. 

as natural as breathing.

mwah. his lips meet yours, chaste and sweet, gone as soon as you’ve thought to lean into it. ”i’ll always wait for you,” he says. ”you know that, don’t you?”

(you do.)

a silent nod. he seems to note your sour mood, the ghost of a pout on your lips. because he chuckles, that familiar purr-like rasp, falling backwards and tugging you with him — pushing you down against the mattress, crawling over you, a praying mantis with the smile of a fox. gentle, gentle, his hands cupping your hips. black hair frames his face, his smile, the moonshine gliding across his nose and cheekbones. he’s all you can see, until he’s leaning forward, nosing against your pulsepoint to feel the pitter-patter there. you can still feel the weight of his gaze, sticky honey-webs of oak and cedar.

warm, warm, warm. a little sleepy.

and he sighs against your skin. 

”i want to tell you i love you a million times,” he says, an orange split into tender halves. ”you know that?”

he sounds tired. he sounds happy, deliriously so, like he can barely believe it himself. you like it when he gets this playful, like it when the hint of boyishness he keeps carefully concealed spills through the gaps.

you blink.

a matching sigh, from your loverotted lungs. ”.. yeah,” you murmur. ”i know. i’d say it back a million times.”

a plum tree blooms against your collarbone, the branches of his lips stretching up into a grin. ”see? you’re perfect.” he moves up, captures your lips with his own, savours the flavour of your lip balm. eyes gleaming like fireflies. ”just perfect for me…”

ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. 

(your heart asks to be let out of its confines.)

”what other gift could i possibly need?”

and, well — it’s hard to argue when he sounds so convinced. when his skin is gleaming, when he’s on top of you, caging you in with his thighs and keeping you steady. when he looks like the rest of your life. 

it’s hard, even though a litany of words scratch against your windpipe, begging to be set free. even though you didn’t want to be a coward, today. 

(any other day of the year would have been fine.)

a hand cups your cheek. 

”… hm?” he tilts his head, raises an eyebrow. awaits your response, with fond, tired eyes.

you bite your lip. ”… i guess…”

”no, you don’t guess,” he huffs, half a chuckle. leans close to nip at your cheek. ”you know. i’m already spoiled with your presence. what else do i need?”

”well, it’s just—”

”no.” he shuts you up, mashes his lips against yours again. ”no more of that. okay, sweetheart?”

…

”thank you for today.” he echoes, into the shell of your ear. the warmth in his voice sparks against your spine. ”i had a lovely time. with the others, with you.”

an underlying demand —

you know what he wants.

so you give in. whatever he wants, you remind yourself. whatever he wants.

”… you’re welcome,” you mumble, finally. defeated, just breathing in his scent, smooth hints of bergamot and coconut oil. ”happy birthday, suguru.”

(and he smiles.)

one more kiss, and then he’s pulling back. watching you, softly, laid out across his sheets like sunshine spilling through window blinds in spring.

”… thank you, honey.”

(tomorrow, you’ll air out your restless ribcage. uncap the lid, dust off the longing.)

today, you will lie with clammy hands, a beating heart, shaky fingers — and simply let him hold you close. as tightly as he wants, for as long as he wants.

whatever he wants.

the words can wait; they’re good at that.

[fluffylord]

Look how far I went, for fear of losing you.

[quirkle2]

it's nice to feel childlike wonder again

[usertoxicyaoi]

"I've known for a long time. Ryo-kun, you can't bear to be away from me. You're clumsy, delicate and a handful. But, I love that about you. I love you."

DOKU KOI: DOKU MO SUGIREBA KOI TO NARU (2024). EPISODE SIX.

[feligayzed]

Doodles based around my dear friend @autocat5876's fic about my surface au!! The two goobers are so wholesome in their style, I'm a disgusting mushy mess 😭😭🫶 GRGRGGHRG

[casualavocados]

You said you would always look at me.

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 9

[theheirofthesharingan]

“Tell me, father, which to ask forgiveness for: what I am, or what I’m not?

Tell me, mother, which should I regret: what I became, or what I didn’t?”

- source

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

Life is Very Long

by Vamillepudding

T, 12k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian is a good for nothing, possibly evil, possibly fake uncle. But he's Jin Ling's good for nothing, possibly evil, possibly fake uncle. So it stands to reason that when Jin Ling starts to suspect that Hanguang-jun is mistreating his husband, he immediately recruits Jiang Cheng for a rescue mission.

~*~

Clothes Like Clouds, Face Like Flowers, Half Soaked in Tears and Blood.

by JaenysBloodcourt

T, 9k, Jin Guangshan has a harem including Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Meng Shi, Wen Ning | Wangxian

Summary: At the time, the Forbidden City seemed like the perfect place to escape Yu-furen and not earn her wrath. Or, the one where WWX is a concubine in Jin Guangshan's harem, he hates it, and Lan-Pin's pretty face finished rocking his world.

~*~

Flowers Blooming in the Dark

by TheLegendOfChel

T, 64k, Wangxian

Summary: When Wei Wuxian, the god of death, meets Lan Wangji, the god of vegetation, the last thing he expects is to be swept off his feet. Unfortunately, the rest of the world is less accepting of their courtship. Denied permission to marry, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji elope. The other gods, furious with this blatant act of disobedience, declare war on the underworld, and vow to punish Wei Wuxian for kidnapping the honorable Hanguang-jun. Wei Wuxian finds this rather unfair. If anything, Lan Wangji is the one who kidnapped him!

~*~

bespoke

by cafecliche

G, 3k, Wangxian

Summary: The bundle of mail from the Qinghe Nie Sect arrives in Cloud Recesses late one evening. All but one piece of the pile is a stack of invitations to this year’s Cultivation Conference, wrapped in light blue string. The last is a short, handwritten list wedged between two envelopes, unnoticeable until it flutters to the floor. (Or: the juniors stage a tiny, benevolent rebellion.)

~*~

🔒 you've got to find a way, say what you want to say

by Quixiote

T, 12k, Wangxian

Summary: Every month, a man comes into the post office with a letter that cannot be sent to the person they are intended for. Or: The Saga of The Letters To The YiLing Patriarch as told by DushanYou sect Post-ivator Bai Ju

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)

[forcebookish]

whumptober no.21: let the bedsheet soak up my tears

[notsoevilmagistrate]

Nick drives me fucking crazy because the first chapter was literally just “Gatsby’s not like other girls :(“ STOP SUCKING HIS DICK HES IN LOVE WITH YOUR COUSIN!!!! HES DOWN SO BAD ITS PATHETIC!!! Nick stop being a funky gay dude challenge IMPOSSIBLE.

[animatedtext]

[alicornze7]

“I’m not projecting”

[disfrutalakia]

Translation of the letter Amora (and her admin) left for Bagi [i got the screenshots from @.gabiylx on twitter] all under the cut

"Mommy, i made so many letters for you, I never thought this would be the last. You suffered and fought in silence, I wish I could have done something truly useful to help you, I know you had the best of intentions while you could take it.

You are gone and you took a piece of me with you, but you also left a piece of you with me, I'm never going to forget you, even if all the places we made memories at are gone, this is something nobody will ever take from me.

You live in me, and always will doesn't matter what happens, from the beginning to the end, remember?

I hope that somehow my words can reach you.

And that you know you were never guilty of anything in your life, you were a victim of circumstances, was used by others in a horrible manner but you always fought to protect those you love.

I admire you a lot.

And I always will, just like I will always love you, you that person who I trusted to be connected with me, the most special person on this planet, even if you didn't see yourself that way.

I will keep that with me until the day I'm gone from this earth...

Just like all the memories and all the love that I feel for you.

Until someday mommy, thank you for everything.

I hope to see you someday in some future... who knows what waits for us?

I'm going to take care of everyone here, just like you always did.

Te amo mommy Bagi.

Amora, forever your daughter"

From here the purple text is written by the admin:

"Thank you for this opportunity of letting me meet you, knowing !Bagi was something I never dreamed of happening.

I'm very happy that I got to be a part of the story of this strong, amazing and full of baggage woman. To love is to sometimes accept the end.

And I can see how hard it was to leave this piece of you story. Im proud and I hope you're too, my admiration can only grow from here!

Thank you for being a part of my life in both ways

- Arkns_06"

[moonbeamunson]

just finished supernatural i am obliterated :-)

[justaz]

thinkinnn bout arthur pendragon. my baby boy. he's such a bitch but also such a baby girl.

he never felt the love of a mother and relied on his father for all of the love and validation he needed growing up but uther never gave it to him unless he succeeded in battle - probably against druids/sorcerers. arthur never feeling like he was enough, that he was never worthy of love unless he did something for them or won a battle because that was the only time his father looked at him with a modicum of warmth.

being a prince raised to one day be king and being taught to never trust anyone, that as king he can only trust himself, and then watching his father fuck over the people of camelot and going "a king must make hard choices" but arthur never agrees with any of that!! he puts on the aloof asshole act to keep people away so he doesn't get hurt but baby boy wears his damn heart on his sleeve. he cares. SO much. he trusts everyone, no matter how many times he's been betrayed. he does everything he can for his people

he strives for their love and pride because he never got it growing up. he works his ass off to be the best king for his people that he can be, so he can be the best heir for his father that he can be, so he can be the best son for his mother that he can be - all so he can prove that he's good enough and worthy enough of love. yet time and time again, he's betrayed by those he has done nothing but be there for. time and time again, the people he's loved and trusted most have betrayed him and left him like he was nothing. proving to him time and time again that he wasn't enough, that he'll never be enough for their love or loyalty.