#these are my favorite things ive written

[stormyrainyday]

happy baizhu day!! yall should read my baizhu angst fics on ao3 <3

If I Can Ease One Life The Aching (I Shall Not Live In Vain) Baizhu becomes immortal

Your Secrets Keep You Sick (Your Lies Keep You Alive) Baizhu does not become immortal

Please read tags first!! enjoy!!

[deoidesign]

For my birthday... read my webcomic! It's literally free! (Unless you want books. Those are not free)

It's beautiful, it's gentle, it's funny, they're canonically t4t and gay... And it's about time traveling vampires solving supernatural mysteries!

I've spent thousands of hours writing and drawing it, and it's really good! I'm not biased!

It's on hiatus right now and coming back in 2 months, so it's the perfect time to get caught up

[strwbrryfire]

papaya rules : a landoscar poem

[This isn’t regret or guilt. This is betrayal in its sharpest form. You don’t get to wish you weren’t tossing him into the fire they burn.]

[boycritter]

in a museum with my mother (but it could be anywhere at all)

[haveihitanerve]

You'll Be Okay. You Are Going To Be Okay.

“You'll be okay. You are going to be okay.” Damian says softly to the little girl, clutching her stuffed animal dragon to her chest, the only thing that remains from her home, from her parents, as her house burns to the ground in front of them, not because he knows what to say to someone in this sort of situation, but because it was what Steph had repeated to him, all those years ago, over and over again when he had been dropped off at Wayne Manor for the first time and had killed someone. When his whole world had been ripped out from under his feet. 

“You'll be okay. You are going to be okay.” Steph repeats to Damian, crouched in the corner, blood on his hands and fear in his eyes as he looks around frantically, not because she knows what to say to someone in this sort of situation, but because it was what Babs had said to her, all those years ago, when she had first joined the family, trying to fight Cluemaster, and losing. When her whole world had been ripped out from under her feet. 

“You'll be okay. You are going to be okay.” Babs says to Steph, who is staring, glassy eyed, at the remains of the hospital, another hit by Cluemaster, not because she knows what to say to someone in this sort of situation, but because it was what Tim had said to her, all those years ago, when she had been shot by the Joker, when her days as Batgirl had ended. When her whole world had been ripped out from under her feet.

“You'll be okay. You are going to be okay.” Tim whispers to Babs, laying in the stark white hospital sheets, her hands flitting over her middle, panic and pain and fear in her eyes, not because he knows what to say to someone in this sort of situation, but because it was what Cass had murmured to him, all those years ago, when he had failed again, when the Joker had still had control over his mind. When his whole world was ripped out from under his feet. 

“You’ll be okay. You are going to be okay.” Cass murmurs to Tim, huddled against the wall, tears streaking down his face, the fear of himself clear in his eyes, not because she knows what to say to someone in this sort of situation, but because it was what Jason had told her, all those years ago, when she had first arrived at the Manor, when she hadn't known anyone or anything, when everything was new to her and kindness was plentiful and foreign. When her whole world had been ripped out from under her feet. 

“You'll be okay. You are going to be okay.” Jason tells Cass, as many times as she needs it, as she crouches next to him, half under the chair, terrified of everyone and everything, flinching when people are kind and gentle, not because he knows what to say to someone in this sort of situation, but because it was what Dick had said to him, all those years ago, when he had first become Robin and was deathly afraid of not being good enough, of being sent back out onto the streets, when he feared his father beating him and his mother leaving. When his whole world had been ripped out from under his feet. 

“You'll be okay. You are going to be okay.” Dick whispers to Jason, crouched in the corner, a bruise on his jaw, looking around in fright, not because he knows what to say to someone in this sort of situation, but because it was what Bruce said to him all those years ago when his parents died. When his world had been ripped out from under his feet.

“You'll be okay. You are going to be okay.” Bruce soothes the child at his feet, staring at nothing, not because he knows what to say to someone in this sort of situation, but because it was what Alfred said to him, all those years ago when his parents died. When his world had been ripped out from under his feet. 

“You’ll be okay. You are going to be okay.” Alfred murmurs to the child curled up in his arms, sobbing into the blanket his mother knitted for him, not because he knows what to say to someone in this sort of situation, but because it was what Martha and Thomas Wayne had told him when his wife had died, all those years ago, and had hired him into their services, not as a servant, but as a friend. When his whole world had been ripped out from under him.

[hopkei]

Kentaro-senpai, please take good care of Yusei~

[sibylsleaves]

it's a craving not a crush

2k | rated E | Five Alarm Fest Day 6 | read on ao3 Veronica takes a hearty bite of cake. “You never just. I don’t know.” Her tongue darts out from between her lips, licking at the frosting on the fork. “Have a craving?” “Sure,” Taylor allows. The fork twirls idly between Veronica’s slender fingers. “And you never…give in to it?” after a disaster of a double date, Taylor and Veronica talk

Taylor sits in the front seat of her Corolla, fuming. It’s not often that she feels like this—like such an idiot.

Fucking Evan Buckley and his childish fixation on making sure everyone in the entire world likes him. Taylor doesn’t need to be liked. Never has. But Buck—you’d think the world comes crashing down the second someone treats him with mild apathy.

Which is ironic considering his taste in women, if Veronica and Taylor herself are anything to go off of.

What a goddamn waste. Here she is, all dolled up in her red dress, the one she bought for the station’s Christmas Party last year, push-up bra that makes her boobs look amazing, hair perfectly curled, make-up—well, it was perfect before she started crying. It feels a little too pathetic to go back to her shitty one-bedroom apartment when she went through the trouble to look this good.

There’s a patio bar not too far from here she’s been to before. The bar scene in DTLA is usually a bit too crowded and extra for her taste, but fuck it. She’ll go, have a drink, maybe pick someone up, and salvage this shitshow of an evening.

Decision made, she gets out of the car, and is just slamming the driver’s door shut when the back stairwell of Buck’s apartment building opens. Light spills from within, haloing a slim figure and a cascade of long, brown hair.

“Taylor Kelly?”

It’s Veronica. Before Taylor can even respond, Veronica’s tossing a trash bag into the dumpsters and striding over.

“I thought you had a story to prep for,” Veronica says, crossing her arms over her chest with a smirk. “Or is the story ‘LA firefighter acts like a bag of dicks?’”

Taylor snorts. “Not sure that’s groundbreaking enough for even the four o’clock news.”

Veronica arches a perfect dark eyebrow. “Well, if you are free, you could come back upstairs and finish that glass of wine?”

“With you and your boyfriend?”

“Just me,” Veronica says, teeth flashing in the streetlight. “No boyfriend. Never was. Definitely isn’t now.”

(continue on ao3)

[existwound]

to breathe in this mirage by existwound

E | 12k+ | 1/4 | Keith/Lance

Summary:

The light reflects on a piece of silver metal on Keith’s hand as his fingers play with Lance’s. He zeroes in on it, his breath catching in his throat. It’s a thin silver ring that sits nicely on his left ring finger, adorned with an even thinner golden band around it, perfectly matching, and mirroring, the ring that Lance found on his bathroom counter this morning. Oh, no way. No, no, no, no. Absolutely not. This has to be some kind of cruel joke. There is no way that the person he’s married to in the future is Keith.

or: Lance unwillingly takes one for the team and wakes up ten years in the future.

read chapter one now on ao3!

[ryker-writes]

This is kind of a crack request, but can I ask for Heartabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle having to babysit a furby for a week? How they get the furby I'll leave to you, but I just wanna see what chaos would unfold XD

I love this. I've never had a furby before but I've seen them and they are horrifying and cursed i love them

Request rules and Masterlists

warning: furby death

Set up: Crowley has decided that students should have to go through a lesson to test their skills as future parents. But we know Crowley, he isn't going to spend a lot of money on fake baby dolls that scream. Instead, he decided to purchase furbys, and have the students babysit them for a week...

Riddle:

he tries his best, and does decently well

like most school things, Riddle aims to do his best and be prepared

but this has an extra level of effort for him, because it's proving he can take care of another being

so he's going to do everything he can for the furby

he'll carry it everywhere with him and give it food, tea, attention, and it'll even study with him

and it goes pretty well

that is, until the furby breaks a rule

he'll scold it and it doesn't care, making Riddle more angry

in the end, the furby got a little burned (it did not survive), and so did the rest of Heartslabyul

Trey:

10/10 furby dad

the best furby dad on this list actually

for starters, his furby survives the week

Trey feeds it on time, talks to it, and even has a little bed for his furby

if the furby demands food in the middle of the night, he's getting up to feed it

it's starting to learn to talk too after he reads to it

but he starts to get a little tired after a few nights

so he's happy to hand the furby back to Crowley at the end of the week

Cater:

on magicam, the furby is thriving

in reality, it's being neglected

Cater takes all sorts of photos of him doing activities with his furby and taking care of it

he calls himself a great furby dad

but anytime the camera is not pointed towards the furby, it's left there sitting on it's own

if furbys could die of neglect, his would

but he's got to get those photos to look aesthetic ✨

it's all fun and games until he tries to get some photo's of the little guy playing in some water

...turns out furbys aren't supposed to get wet

Ace:

he tries at the beginning

in his mind, taking care of a furby should be easy peasy

he feeds it and everything

but the first night with the furby is, unfortunately, it's last

Ace had made it a decent bed on one of his shelves to sleep in

in the middle of the night, the shelf collapsed creating a loud noise that woke Ace up

the next thing he heard was his furby speaking gibberish

and the last thing the furby saw was a blast of magic headed straight for it

Deuce:

oh Deuce...

he tried his best to take care of the furby

but poor boy got the one furby that was actually creepy and potentially possessed

other Hearslabyul students have told him that they've heard it talking at night, but Deuce always sleeps through it

it doesn't help that half the furbys words came out garbled and in a very deep voice

still, Deuce is trying his best to take care of it and even learned to understand the garbled nonsense

Furby: GHIKASHUPAHiGNA

Deuce: okay I'll go get you some food

overall pretty good furby dad like the furby is pretty well taken care of

but he got to attached and didn't want to give it back to Crowley at the end of the week

Leona:

no way

there's no way he's going to take care of a furby

the first few times the furby asks for things, it simply gets ignored

but the more it talks and starts demanding things, the more he gets annoyed

he tries to hand it over to Ruggie, but Ruggie has his own furby to take care of

so he's stuck with the furby

he starts to get pretty good at blocking it out

but then the furby wakes him up during one of his naps

Leona has reached peak annoyance

that furby got its first and last flight lesson out Leona's window

Ruggie:

honestly he's not that interested in taking care of the furby

it's decently taken care of for a while

the furby gets fed and talked to regularly

the big problem arises when he visits Sam's shop

Sam just casually mentioned that they could be sold for a decent price

not expensive, but not totally cheap

either way money is money and Ruggie is all about money

his furby got sold immediately

Jack:

he wants to take care of his furby, he really does

but it freaks him out

he hates it's eyes and especially it's stare

Jack is so hesitant about even feeding it

anytime it speaks his ears perk up like he's startled

it was the middle of the night when he heard it

from the darkness of the room, it laughed

he just couldn't take it

at first he just tried to take the batteries out

but then it kept talking

and that furby got crushed to death

Azul:

it's a school assignment, so of course he's going to try his best

the furby gets well taken care of and even gets the VIP treatment

he has to admit, it kind of ruins his negotiations a little bit when the furby interrupts

"if you want that to come true, I can certainly make it happen. All you have to do is-"

"WEE-TAH-KAH-WEE-LOO"

but for some reason, this scared many of his victims customers into signing a contract

so he kept it around and actually started to make it work

he even taught it how to take orders

but then one day, the furby stopped working during one of their busy days

as much as Azul tried to change it's batteries and fix it, it just didn't work and the furby's eyes didn't open again

the furby had been worked to death

Jade:

another good furby dad...with a twist

Jade takes good care of his furby always making sure to feed it and give it attention

but he spends a lot of time teaching it things

the furby learns pretty quickly how to speak and some other things

in fact, it's probably the smartest furby of them all

so smart that it starts to take after Jade and pick up some if his traits and...hobbies

near the end of the week, the furby had disappeared

but Jade wasn't worried

because there was some rumors floating around about a growing furby mafia

Jade is such a proud dad

Floyd:

he has so much fun with his furby

it's such a fun and creepy guy

just like him :D

he brought the furby everywhere with him

so much so that the furby learned a word, and only one word

so when Floyd was annoyed with someone, the small furby voice beside him would chant

"Squeeze! Squeeze! Squeeze!"

the two practically became best friends who could never be separated

and I mean never

even when Floyd went for a swim in his mer-form, he held the little furby in his arms despite the furby having stopped moving

the poor furby had drowned in the arms of someone who loved it

Totals:

Furbys handed out - 11

Furbys returned - 1

[omophagic-beast]

shoutout to the "vibes of different names for GM" post for giving me the idea to call the GM in my time travel game The Right Hand of Fate

[steddieasitgoes]

You Were All Yellow | written by steddieasitgoes | ao3 link 

For @thefreakandthehair​​ Spring Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge!. My prompt was “Yellow.” 

“Yellow!” Eddie shouts confidently, voice echoing throughout Steve’s crowded family room. “Stevie’s favorite color is yellow.”

Eddie waits for Steve’s confirmation but finds himself on the receiving end of shouting. Robin is yelling something about the color green. Max shouts back different shades of blue, and Dustin is elbows deep in a dissertation-style argument about why Steve’s favorite color is actually salmon pink. The others are loud in their own right, arguing over who wins the point in their impromptu “Who Knows Steve Best” game and the privilege of riding shotgun in the Beamer for an entire month.

It’s total chaos, but the loudest person in the room is Steve, who hasn’t uttered a word since the simple question was asked.

Everyone is so busy debating, no one pays any attention to Eddie as he collapses on the couch beside Steve. It takes a quick elbow to Steve’s ribs to get him to focus on Eddie, but it’s worth it when those big hazel eyes land on him.

“It is yellow, right?” Eddie asks, suddenly feeling bashful.

It has to be, Eddie thinks.

An entire side of Steve’s closet is sectioned off for yellow shirts and sweaters. Steve’s favorite bath towel is a worn yellow one falling apart at the seams. He drinks out of a yellow smiley face mug every morning, and he only eats yellow candy when given the chance.

And that’s just the obvious things.

Eddie’s taken note of the way Steve gravitates towards yellow items when he’s flipping through the department store catalogs he gets in the mail. Passes over the blues and greens for the pale and banana yellow options. He always reaches for the yellow highlighter when they’re studying together and doesn’t hesitate to grab the yellow game piece on board game nights.

There’s also the way Steve’s face lights up whenever Eddie walks around the house in one of his yellow sweatshirts — but Eddie tries not to let that cloud his judgment.

It’s honestly fitting, Eddie thinks.

Yellow is a rare favorite color, and Steve’s a rare form of perfection.

“I mean, I hadn’t thought much about it,” Steve admits, startling Eddie from his thoughts.

Eddie fidgets with the strings on the yellow sweatshirt he’s borrowed from Steve to keep from squirming under the weight of Steve’s eyes. He feels them scan Eddie from toe to head, lingering on his torso where the oversized yellow sweatshirt swallows Eddie whole. For a maddening moment, Eddie thinks Steve wants to swallow him whole too, but the thought disappears when Steve tears his eyes away from him.

“But yeah, I think uh, I think you’re right. There’s just something about yellow.”

Or:

It's the Spring of 1986 and Vecna is dead. Spring is in full effect. The flowers are blooming, the birds are singing, and Eddie's feelings for Steve are blossoming into something new.

Read the rest on ao3

20K+ Words | Mature

[rowanisawriter]

reaching

hades game, thanzag, rated t, ~2700 words

.

Thanatos isn’t sure how long it’s been since they were both young, or whatever young means to gods like them, but it feels like an immeasurable amount of time, he feels like an immeasurably different person and yet exactly the same. He is still serving at the pleasure of Lord Hades and, by extension, his son. He is still wincing at the sight of Zagreus’s blood on the floor. He is reaching, reaching into the space between them now in the sulfuric heat of Asphodel, to hand him the beating heart of a centaur.

Zagreus takes it. Their hands touch during the exchange. Time folds like a thin piece of paper, so thin he can see through it to the beginning, before Zagreus, and now. Now, during or after or whatever this is between them. Always reaching out to try and close the distance, never quite getting there.

[foxgirlplushie]

it's finished

[gentil-minou]

hold me close

Sometimes Lan Wangji misses Wei Ying even when he's with him. He forgets he doesn’t need to be afraid. This Wei Ying won’t vanish into the shadows. Sometimes, it feels like Lan Wangji is just waiting to be proven wrong. Lan Wangji has spent his entire life grieving for the ones he's loved and lost. How can he be expected to simply stop?

Wangxian | Oneshot | 13.4K | Rated E

Relevant Tags

Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Porn with Feelings, Emotional Sex, Grief, Mental Health Issues, Character Study, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Top Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Bottom Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Working Through Grief With Sex, Grieving Your Husband While Fucking Him, tender husbands being tender, 13 years of grieving followed by a life time of healing from it

crossposted on

Preview below the cut

Wei Ying visits Lan Wangji every night for thirteen years.

He arrives cloaked in shadows wrapping around him in a shroud. Long hair fans out behind him buffeted by an unnatural wind, thick at the roots and becoming wisps of smoke at the ends.

And every night, Lan Wangji welcomes this Wei Ying into arms that will never again know his warmth. An embrace that will never be shared with anyone else. A fantasy for a willing hostage, caught in a trap of his own design.

The Wei Ying in his dreams is well-fed and well-loved, skin bronze from endless summers spent lakeside, glowing with a fire stoked from within that both threatens Lan Wangji and calls to him all the same. This Wei Ying is always smiling. Not the one Lan Wangji sees in his nightmares, crazed with resentment consuming his soul. The one from their youth, the one this hostile world stole from him when he was far too young.

The Wei Ying in his dreams is not numb from grief and loss. He is not cruel. He does not shove Lan Wangji away.

He places a hand on Lan Wangji’s flushed, tear-stained cheek. His calloused hand is no longer cold and dying but instead warm and alive. This Wei Ying guides Lan Wangji towards him, a loving gaze fixed on him as a familiar smirk curls into a tease.

His dark eyes are bright and dancing, not glassy and dead. They drag Lan Wangji in, ensnaring him, rooting him in place. Though Lan Wangji has no reason to escape regardless.

Shadows twist up and down his body, leaving mark after mark in a trail claiming him. They convince Lan Wangji that this moment is real and true and won’t vanish like fog once dawn breaks over the mountain, flinging logic and sense far away.

In his dreams, Wei Ying loves him.

In his dreams, Lan Wangji saves him.

In his dreams, he has this. Everything he’s ever wanted.

Lan Wangji becomes quite adept at pretending the dreams are all he needs.

(read more on ao3)

[a-sweeter-solarsystem]

Saint asked, "May I give you advice...something I learned from being with Osiris."

Crow nodded.

Saint-14 wandered quietly to Cal's bedside. "Sometimes..." the bed creaked as the titan lowered himself next to Calgrach's side, "...it helps to talk."

The hunter watched Saint curiously. He spoke softly, "He can't hear me."

Saint-14's words felt firm but kind, "It is your presence that he can feel. Your light he knows. You do not need words for that."

( *** )

[newlesbianprideflag]

stoner byler moment for miwip "wednesday"