#There's more wips from where these came from but those are more recent and I actually want to finish em lmao

[xenocorner]

Here's a small batch of very old rough wips that never made it past the sketch phase :') ft some of my Asgardian Stephen shenanigans-

#There's more wips from where these came from but those are more recent and I actually want to finish em lmao #so those are staying in my vault for now #do I even tag these as ironstrange and stuff #they're so rough cries #whatever #ironstrange #doctor strange #doctor strange au #tony stark #loki

[ywuji]

Omg so like I want to hear your thoughts on perv!Megumi like finally after so long of Gojo teasing him for being in college for two years at this point and being single, he’s finally procured a pretty girlfriend who’s unfortunately (for her) so naive and sweet??🩷💕 Idk I got shy but I know you’ll do something good with this lol

ik i told u id post this after my wips but i started on it n i couldnt stop i liked the idea too much LOL im sorry for being so confusing D; tysm for the ask though!!! :o i rlly enjoyed writing this!!! (n don’t be shy ahjwhs you’re so lovely T_T♡)

perv!megumi !!! please i feel like he’s the type to be a pervert that’s kinda embarrassed n self aware about himself—especially bc gojo kept teasing him all those years n he was kinda just jacking off to whatever x-rated video that came up first (i feel like perv!megumi is highkey into hentai too but he’s taking that to the grave!!)

n when gets a pretty little girlfriend who acts so cute and who he loves so much, when he gets hard he can’t help but let some of that side of him slip out from time to time...

i think he’s also the type to take lots of pictures,, like pictures while you sleep, peeking through your door while you shower, in clothing store changing rooms while you change, upskirt pictures… he’ll make you his little model!! some of them you know about but some of them you don’t, he’s so lewd.

it’s not just pics of you he takes, it's some of himself too. i feel like one of the things he’d love to do to you is when you tell him to come with you to some random uni event, n he’ll randomly disappear in the middle of it, only to go to the bathroom to take pictures of his hard leaky cock to send you with some casual caption like he didn’t just do that ?!?! he’s crazy (more under the cut)

it’s not megumi’s fault he’s so in his head about you, he still just doesn’t really know how he managed to get someone as pretty and doting as you are as his. 

he sometimes feels guilty for being so obsessed with you—your body clad in pretty little outfits that you show off to him with a twirl, the way you’ll always show him your shiny new sparkly nails when you get them done, how he’s always the first one you’ll pick to talk to about something new you’ve found to love—it’s all that seems to be on his mind recently.

maybe it was gojo’s accidental doing, those feelings of guilt. unintentionally planting a little growing seed of shame in him the first few times he started teasing him for not having a partner yet at his ‘big age’, borderline lecturing him with the ‘when i was your age’ stuff—maybe that was the logical reason why he felt so attached to you, the reason he couldn’t help getting fully erect even when he only saw as much as a pair of your flung-away panties lying at the edge of your bed when coming to your room one day.

but when he recalls back to those nights where you’re innocently cuddled against him, watching whatever movie, a quiet ‘megumi?’ leaving your lips as a sign to tell him you’re falling asleep, and he finds himself shifting in his seat, carefully adjusting your head to let you rest comfortably on him, pressing a soft kiss to your hair as he strokes it and tells you a ‘sleep now, angel’, he knows that’s not the reason.

nevertheless, he’s always been worried about it, thoughts of ‘am i doing too much?’ or a ‘would she not like this?’ clouding his mind. but for every single thought like this he has, he’ll always have two more memories where he’s coming up to you, his sweet-faced little girlfriend, waiting for him with open arms and open heart. and to him, it means more than the world.

and as his cheerful sweetheart girlfriend, you’ve never really minded of course.

you know he’s at least a little perverted, asking to take those pictures of you trying on your new swimsuits, or bras, or skirts, or those times when he pulls out after spilling his load into you, and the first thing he does after making sure you’re okay is to go face-to-face with the trail of cum seeping out of you to snap a few photos.

honestly, you’ve gotten used to it at this point. you just take these moments, seeing what you do to him, as a way of reassuring yourself that he really does just love you that much. and he really does. really!! :(

no matter how innocent or dirty the context, he’ll let you know whenever he gets that warm little feeling in his chest.

“i-i love you,” he pants, head coming up from sucking marks on your neck, languid thrusts coming to a gentle stop as he peers up at you with flushed cheeks. it feels like he’s admitting it for the first time again.

when you stare at him with his same love-drunk look, brows furrowed and eyes pleading, whispering out an “i love you too, gumi”, he’ll pause a moment to study your expression before gently raising you further up the bed, hooking his hand under your leg and repositioning it around his waist.

he’ll drop down to press a kiss to your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder and picking up the pace again, now only determined to make you cum.

when he thinks of times like these, despite what you’re doing together, it’s innocent in his head.

a time where that’s not so much the case though is when you persuade him to come with you to some uni exhibition event, looking up at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes and as many ‘pleeeaaase, gumi’s and ‘please, guuuum’s as you could muster—cause it’s not like he could say no to that, right?

at first he put up an act of feign stubbornness. but eventually he agreed—only when he knew you’d excitedly hug him and press your soft chest to his as a thank you for it though.

he’d tour the hall with you, watching you gaze in awe at everything with your cute, simple curiosity, occasionally pointing out little things in the pieces he liked. before the artist began their talk though, he got up from his seat, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before muttering a “‘m g’na go to the bathroom.”

in an empty stall, he’ll sit atop the lid and pull down his jeans, freeing his stiffening cock from his underwear. he quietly groans as he pumps himself a few times, a slow trickle of translucent white leaking down from his tip.

he silently curses, throwing his head back, thinking about how you let him flip up your pretty skirt before you left, letting him take a peek at your cute ass in the frilly panties he bought for you.

he reaches for his phone, fumbling to send a picture of the sight to you, adding a casual caption of something like ‘hi pretty girl’ or ‘u look so pretty today, angel’.

he pauses, realising that maybe you won’t see it for a little while. he’s imagining you so obediently listening to the artist speaker to notice the ping of his notification—he enjoys that thought too, but he can’t say why.

he’s careful not to thrust up into his fist, not wanting to make too much noise, but it’s futile—he’s too hard staring at the lewd shots of you saved in his secret hidden album—the way you act so innocently, the way you have no clue what the true extent is of what you do to him. he can’t help but let a few breathy whines slip.

he won’t let himself cum though, thinking he’s too good to be letting himself release over some scrunched up, bathroom tissue when he’s got his own pretty little girlfriend waiting for him a few halls down.

he sighs. cleaning up and tucking himself back into the band of his briefs, leaving the stall and washing his hands, walking back out like nothing happened.

#ywuji #this is so long n so rambly HAHEHW #i rlly had fun writing this tho #i wld love to write more :00 #the last part is For Sure tacked onto the end but i wanted to include it bc i talked abt it alr Lol #apologies U_U #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #fushiguro smut #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi headcanons #fushiguro headcanons #jjk smut #jjk thirsts #jjk x reader #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[lustlovehart]

Hi!! I have never requested anything before, so I really hope that I am doing this right!! So I have been thinking about Scaramouche and reader having a secret relationship. One day they are making out in his office (still kind of sfw) and just before it gets too steamy, a subordinate knocks on the door and they both have to act like nothing happened with flushed faces 🤭🤭

I really hope that you get what I mean😭 It would be very nice, if you accepted this request!!/nf Thank youu!!!!!!!!

A/n: Coincidentally enough, I actually had something in my wips with this same prompt. Also, I may have gone a biiitt away from the exact request, but I think I still kept most of what you wanted!!

Summary: Sometimes the two of you are too absorbed with eachother to notice what surrounds you.

Warnings: Extremely Suggestive but no explicit NSFW, marking, like one sentence of angst

People in the fatui talk, there is no doubt about that in your mind. They don’t exactly try to hide their whispers, nor do they try to to disguise their gossip. All they can truly do is protect what leaves their mouth with the thin barrier of their hand covering what they say. Though, there has been one topic of note that every fatuus has been spouting as of recently,

“Are any of the harbingers in a romantic relationship??”

"Not sure... They seem to be very focused on the work the Tsaritsa bestows upon them."

"You're right... Though, it would be interesting, dont you think?"

Your hand immediately slams onto the harbingers expensive wooden desk, an attempt to catch yourself before you fall onto the hard flooring. Your neck is bent toward the left, allowing the man in front of you easy accesses to the area.

"Kuni.... Could you not wait... Ha... Until you're off the job...?" Your fingers are intertwined with his violet strands, his own hands in turn roaming up and down your body, wrinkling your uniform.

His lips pop off your skin, the feeling of wet salvia being felt. You can't see it, but if you did you're sure it would be extremely noticeable.

"Why would I wait? We can just do it now."

The two of you are only meant to collect paperwork for an upcoming exchange with another fatui branch, you have no idea how this had came to be.

His left arm reachs to your bottom, hoisting you up onto the surface of the table, his other hand wiping any items on the top to the floor, loud clangs echoing through the room.

"Don't you need those? What if they're broken...?"

"Don't focus on that, pay attention to me. Besides, my budget is enough to cover it anyway."

Right, Fatui Harbinger... Rich. His fingers grip onto the back of your head pulling you into him as his mouth immediately connects to your own. You're sure you can feel literal static surrounding the two of you as your lips lock against on another.

To him, though his body might not be human, every feeling you give him is enough to make him feel truly alive. If he had the choice to choose between you and godhood, he's sure he wouldn't know what to pick.

It doesn't matter now though, if he has you, he's sure life for him won't be as pitiful as it once was.

When you try pulling away from the exchange his lips follow you like magnets, it's only when you push away with more force does he remember that you need air, unlike the vessel he holds with a limitless lung capacity.

Your forehead is rested against his as you pant, a thin line of saliva still connecting the two of you, the man's hands is still groping at whatever piece of skin he could reach, a laugh leaving his throat as he looks at the flustered state you're in.

"What? Couldn't keep up with me?"

"Be... Haa... Be quiet..."

"What was that? I'm gonna need you to speak up [Name], my mechanical ears can't hear you."

You were getting tired of his comments, immediately pulling him in for more while his finger rush to take your shirt uniform off you.

Once he had taken it off, he didn't seem to care where it landed, only throwing it somewhere random in the open space.

His hands creep up your legs, ready to undo whatever you were wearing down there as well.

Since you had only expected to grab some documents, it seemed the thought of locking the door had completely escaped you.

"My Lord! The Regrator is currently asking for you-"

Your hands immediately fly up to save any dignity you have left of yourself, Scaramouches arms doing best he can to cover your body.

"Out."

It seemed the soldier was in shock, as his eyes could only keep between the two completely embarrassed individuals, one of them being half naked.

"Did you not hear me? I said leave." You're sure the subordinate saw him in a horrifying light, but looking at him up close you could easily tell just how red his face is, even despite having no blood circulation.

"Of- Of course my lord! I will be waiting outside!" He immediately dashed through the door a loud slam bouncing off the walls.

When you look back at him as his fingers pinch the his nose bridge, an obvious agitated look spread across his face.

-----

"Were you not taught by your caretakers to knock on doors before you open them? No... Maybe they're just as incompetent as you are."

Though your clothes were haphazardly put back on, you still stood by the harbingers side as he demeaned the fatuus, smoothing out any wrinkles your uniform had.

"Forgive me my lord..."

To be honest, you wouldn't have gone with the man, if it weren't for the fact you're sure he would obliterate the soldier if you weren't there.

"So... Are you and [Name] together-?"

"Continue talking if you wanna be sent back home in a coffin."

Though harsh words keep leaving his esophagus, you can still notice the vibrant red spread around his face when he replies.

------

"Good job not electrocuting the guy Kuni."

"Who says I'm not gonna do It on another date?"

"If you don't we can pick up where we left off when we get to my house."

"Ha, if that's what you really want."

#genshin x reader #askves #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #vesnsfw #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #vesperwrites

[t-lostinworlds]

A Strange(r’s) Comfort | Peter Parker

A/N: had this idea right after i saw nwh which was...years ago now lol. rewatched it again recently so here’s me dusting off a wip that’s been sitting in my drafts. basically, this is just me giving peter some comfort in a way, bc that boy really needs one :((

》 PAIRING: peter parker x female!reader 》 TROPE/GENRE: strangers to lovers (mostly implied); soft angst; hurt/comfort 》 SUMMARY: Peter found a strange comfort in the graveyard, no less. But hearing about your day-to-day had been the highlight of his. And when one night led to the both you showing vulnerability, suddenly, Peter didn't feel so alone anymore. Maybe a stranger's comfort wasn't so bad. 》 WARNINGS: Spoilers? (i mean it’s been a while); bad jokes/puns (one about chicken & one about sex lmao); peter eavesdropping (sorta...ya know, enhanced hearing); it’s mostly set in the graveyard so...; mentions of: death, car accident, drunk drivers, being in jail for a moment, petty theft, peer pressure; and overall just dealing with grief and peter & reader bonding over their experience with grief. 》 WORD COUNT: 5.2k+ (issa baby fic)

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ P. PARKER MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

Some might consider it unhealthy, but was there really a 'right' way to deal with the loss of someone you hold near and dear to your heart? They might even say it was excessive, but who were they to police him? They didn't know what he was going through. They could never understand what he was going through.

A part of him had excused it with his wounds being fresh, that with time, he'd be able to learn not to dwell too long on the remnants of the people he loves. Maybe with time, he'd be able to move on, something that seemed so impossible at the moment. But he'll get there—well, he hoped so, at least.

Either way, there was no doubt that everyone handled grief differently.

For Peter Parker, that was visiting May's grave every day.

Once was enough.

That was what he limited himself to, at least.

But still, it was barely enough to settle the demons in his head. Barely enough to stop him from replaying the scene over and over.

Peter had been recalculating in utter desperation as to what else he could've done better, what else he could've done more to save her.

That was what it was like most nights.

Some nights, though, his mind would switch things up a bit, thinking that maybe he was going about it wrong. Maybe it was a case of what he shouldn't have done.

Those nights Peter sometimes found himself picking apart every choice he'd ever made before it led to that point.

Maybe if he hadn't chosen to go on that stupid school trip to Europe then this wouldn't have happened. Maybe his identity wouldn't have been revealed and it wouldn't have led for that first domino to tumble, knocking over the rest that made his life turn for the absolute worse.

Or maybe, he didn't need to go that far back in the past. Maybe he simply shouldn't have chosen to question Dr. Strange's decision to send those villains back to where they came from immediately.

But sadly, that was all there was to it.

Peter's thoughts were simply and only just a whole bunch of unanswerable maybes.

Maybe this, maybe that. Maybe he owed it to them to try his best and fix things, maybe he didn't owe them anything at all. Maybe it was the wrong choice to try and save everyone, maybe it was right.

Aunt May said he did the right thing.

But it didn't feel like it sometimes.

Hell, it didn't even feel like it was even worth it. And no matter how much he tried to tell himself that it was right, his thoughts still managed to convince him that every. single. choice he made was simply wrong.

It wasn't even difficult to come to that conclusion anymore. Because ever since he got bitten by that spider, his loss considerably outweighed all his wins. And from then onwards, it just felt like he kept losing, and losing, and losing, and losing.

Right now, the most mundane thing he'd been losing lately was sleep, at the very least.

He'd gotten a job as a delivery guy at this small chicken joint a couple of streets down his apartment. Some might call it cheating—in his opinion, it was simply taking a shortcut—but he'd leave the bicycle they'd lend him in an alleyway and just swing the chickens to their destination. Sure, changing in and out of his suit was a bit tiring but it was definitely far better than dealing with New York traffic.

Apart from that, he'd also begun with some freelance photography work, dusting off the old DSLR camera Ben and May got him. He got decent at it a while back. But it got long forgotten the minute they bought him his first video game console, two years later.

He was starting off small, from random birthday parties to taking photos of restaurants or any establishment that was looking to use the pictures for ads or whatever. He was up for anything, anyone who didn't mind getting an okay photo at best.

There wasn't much to it, though, since nobody was really keen on hiring someone who didn't have experience. As a matter of fact, he didn't even have a high school diploma. Which had now led to him sacrificing countless hours of studying for his GED tests.

So, it was safe to say that he was handling a lot, especially juggling it with his still ongoing nighttime patrols.

Yet all of that seemed so much easier compared to what he had to deal with once he was lying in bed, wide awake even if it was past midnight. What went on in his day-to-day was only a fraction of the reason why he was losing sleep because his damning thoughts just had a habit of being so loud once everything else had quieted down.

It was hard as it was dealing with grief, even though he for sure had dealt with it more times than needed in such a short amount of time.

But what was more difficult about it this time around, was dealing with alone.

And Peter Parker was truly and utterly, alone.

No fellow Avenger to advise on ways to deal with this. After all, they were the only people who could understand even the slightest bit of what he was going through.

Saving the rest only to fail at saving one, losing someone in the midst of fighting for the rest of the world.

No Happy to offer some guidance on dealing with the loss of someone near and dear to you. Or for him to just be there as someone Peter could relate to, just like when Tony had died.

No Ned and MJ to give him company, offer their different ways of comfort as best as they could. They weren't there to simply make him laugh, offer that tiniest moment of reprieve, distract him with their theories and arguments about anything and everything to help him escape from, well, everything.

Right now, Peter had no one.

Going from having the people he truly cared about be only one call away, to suddenly being someone labeled as 'unknown number' in their contact lists, it was difficult.

But maybe he would just learn to live with it.

And maybe the first step to being able to live with his grief was to visit May frequently.

It didn't matter what time of the day it was. Whether it was early morning or just a few minutes after lunch, or when the sky started tinting orange as the sun slowly set. Midday or midnight, dusk or dawn, it didn't matter as long as he could visit her just once.

Maybe a part of him was hoping that by some miracle he'd hear her voice again, telling him, even if it was the last time, that you're going to be okay.

Peter needed it, so badly. He needed to be told that things would turn out alright because him being fine? It seemed like a far-off dream at this point.

He'd been to space, been to the mirror dimension, fought villains from other universes, been the center of a spell that erased people's memories and made them forget who he was.

Surely hearing the voice of a loved one that had passed wasn't too much to ask?

Yet every day, every moment he ventured into the graveyard, he was met by silence.

Well, aside from the distant hum of New York as life moved on. There was also the deep howl of the wind at night, a few cracking branches accompanied by the soft coo of crows.

Some would probably find peace from all the white noise, but Peter couldn't say he found any comfort in it. He'd only grown accustomed to it, used to tuning out the rest of the world to avoid being reminded of a life he once had.

Still, quietness had always been typical during his visits.

That, until one Saturday afternoon.

•••

Peter sensed another person approaching before he could even see them.

The soft crunch of fallen leaves was what he heard first, followed by a soft humming of some holiday song.

He looked up from the book he was reading, curious eyes landing on someone carrying flowers, a slight pep in her step which was unusual given the location.

Still, there was something about you that Peter couldn't help but be drawn to.

"There we go, all nice and clean," he heard you say, rustling of dried leaves and the soft brushing of clothes following suit. "And flowers well hydrated with bottled spring water."

You were talking to yourself.

It was a habit, he assumed. You just seemed comfortable doing it, as if you were having a mundane conversation with someone else.

Peter found it oddly endearing.

"I brought your favorite this time Dad because I am sure you're complaining to Mom why I always bring her favorite flowers," you explained with a soft laugh. "I sometimes forget you're a flowers type of guy, too."

No—you weren't talking to yourself.

You were talking to the gravestone.

His curiosity piqued even more.

It wasn't that you were being loud, either. Not at all. You were speaking softly as you typically would if you were by yourself in a graveyard, no less.

But because of his enhanced hearing, he simply couldn't help but listen.

"Sorry I haven't been here for a little while, just been busy with you know, moving, college, finding a job with a minimum wage that will not cover rent alone so what even is the point? We look for a job to survive but when we do find a job it doesn't even pay you enough to get by? Some people don't even hire you because 'not enough experience' and I'm like, duh? I'm trying to gain experience hence why I'm applying? Who even invented this shithole?"

Peter found himself nodding along, unable to argue with your claims when they were filled with nothing but the truth.

"Sorry, sorry, it just doesn't make a damn sense," you sighed. He could almost hear you rolling your eyes. "Anyway, I then have other adult things I really don't want to deal with like learning how to deal with taxes and stuff which is so dumb given I'm close to broke and—where does my tax go, anyway? Some politician's tenth vacation to the Bahamas, probably."

For the first time in a long while, Peter cracked a smile.

"Ugh, I am sorry, I promise I don't come here only to complain to you guys," you said, "But I am doing okay…"

He couldn't really explain the 'why,' but the soft tug in his heartstrings was definitely real when he heard the melancholia in your voice.

"The holidays are coming up," you said softly, the slight shake in your tone unmistakable. Yet as it rushed to the surface, it was just as quickly replaced with a chipper one.

"They always tell me how you both are watching over me now. But I don't know if I really want that," you sighed exaggeratedly. "Not because I hate you guys. But imagine if I was having sex? I really don't want to think about you 'watching over me' because it's really uncomfortable."

Peter couldn't stop his snort, his eyes widening as he spared you a glance. He was as grateful that you didn't seem to hear him.

The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was eavesdropping—well, maliciously, at least.

"It's a joke, Mom. See, Dad gets it."

Silence hung in the air after that, a sudden gust of wind blowing away the leaves that littered the snow-covered grass.

But he had a feeling the shake in your voice wasn't because of the cold.

"I really miss you guys…"

Peter left at that.

He didn't see you again for the next few days, probably because he never did visit at the same hour of the day. He never actively tried to see what time you were there, either—if you went every day at all. He'd just become a stalker at that point.

So, every time you did cross paths, it was entirely by chance.

The next encounter was when he brought his lunch with him to the graveyard. He'd caught sight of you sitting on a pink blanket that was laid out on the grass, legs crossed with a box of pizza to your right.

Instinctively, you looked up and over your shoulder when you heard his footsteps.

Your eyes immediately locked with his.

Pretty was the first word that came to his mind.

Beautiful, when you offered him a sweet and warm smile.

"Hello," you greeted.

Peter couldn't help but smile in return.

"Hi."

Nothing else was said after that.

You both respectively ate your lunches in your little corners, your soft humming bringing a comforting peace, one he still couldn't quite explain.

And from there on out, Peter learned that you did go there every day, but it was only either at lunchtime or late in the afternoon.

Because whenever Peter went during those times, you were always there.

As he said, he never actively tried to be there whenever you were. He didn't change anything with his routine. He still went there at random times of the day.

You and him crossing paths simply happened.

And most of those moments, Peter couldn't help but listen in on your rambles.

It might have been wrong, otherwise, creepy, but it wasn't like you were unaware of his presence. You weren't being loud, but you weren't exactly whispering into nothing either. If it were an unenhanced being, they would still hear you, but maybe only slightly inaudible. Peter just had the ability to make out your words a little clearer than the average person.

Besides, all your stories had been mundane at most, quite adorable at best.

Like that one time you ran into a post because you saw a cat wearing some boots and a clear raincoat across the road. Or that time you missed your stop in the subway because you kept talking to a Corgi who was lounging comfortably in their owner's backpack.

"His little legs were so cute!"

Like he said, adorable.

But if it was something personal, though, he'd learned to tune it out. He made sure to keep those matters out of his ear, leaving your private conversations, well, private.

Yet your silly and terrible jokes, your gripes about society and the unfairness of the world, to your little story times and mundane gossip of what you'd heard on the street, Peter couldn't help but tune in as if he was listening to the morning radio.

It made Peter feel lighter somewhat, a feeling he never once associated when being in a graveyard.

He didn't know if it was your stories, or if it was simply hearing that soft tone of your voice. Either way, he found it comforting, which was so strange.

Never had he ever thought he would find comfort from a stranger, no less.

A strange comfort.

•••

"People always ask why did the chicken cross the road. They never ask why the chicken didn't cross the road."

Peter perked up in curiosity, ready to hear another of the many jokes you'd completely ruined.

He found it absolutely hilarious how you were churning typical and old punchlines into horrible ones.

The funniest part was, it seemed like you were doing it on purpose.

"Why, you ask? Because they physically can't anymore," you said, pausing for added effect. "People enjoy eating chicken legs way too much."

Peter's eyes grew wide, gaze landing on the chicken leg he just finished. He couldn't stop the sound that escaped his lips.

It was a mix between a wheeze, a laugh, and a cough.

Loud enough to get your attention.

"Hey," you called, voice sounding closer. "Are you okay?"

"Oh—uhm, hi," he stammered, caught off guard when you were now suddenly in front of him. Clearing his throat, he nodded. "And yeah, I'm good,"

"Do you need some water?" You offered him a bottle.

"No, no, I've got my own," he declined, lifting his bottle. "But thank you."

"Oh okay," you said, smiling sweetly. "It just sounded like you were choking or something so I wanted to make sure if you were alright."

Peter blushed.

"No, I was…uhm—" He scratched the back of his neck. "I was holding back my laugh."

You tilted your head, bottom lip jutted out and Peter found himself thinking of ways to smooth out the little crinkled on your forehead, maybe kiss—wait what?

"Why would you do that?" you asked.

Shit.

Did I say that out loud?

"Sorry?" He blinked at you.

"Why would you hold back your laugh?"

"Oh," he sighed, mostly in relief. "Just didn't want to seem creepy and I wasn't…eavesdropping or anything but I uhm—heard your joke." Chuckling shyly, he smiled. "It was pretty funny."

"Funny because it was bad?" You raised a knowing brow. "If you say it was good then I'm really going to question your sense of humor."

"It was really bad," he admitted, breathing out a laugh.

The way your smile brightened made Peter's heart do a funny thing.

"Thanks," you giggled. "I pride myself in my bad jokes."

"Yeah," he breathed out, willing his heart to stop being so goddamn weird, what is going on with you? "And sorry for not helping the chickens cross the road."

You stared at him confused.

That was until he pointed towards the bag on the ground that had the logo of a chicken on it.

Your hearty laugh rang in the air.

Peter found himself growing warmer at the sound, the burn starting right in his chest and spreading to the whole expanse of his body.

"I—whew, sorry, wow," you heaved after a moment. "Haven't laughed like that in a while."

Both of you fell silent after that—not an awkward one. If anything, it was pleasant, like there was an unspoken understanding being exchanged with a simple look.

"This may seem like weird advice but try and talk to them," you softly said.

Peter looked at you, confused.

You gestured toward the tombstone with a sympathetic smile.

"They might hear it, they might not, there's really no way of knowing," you explained. "But what more could you lose if you try? Plus, you'll get it off your chest and that's always progress."

"I—" Peter nodded, the corner of his lips curling up. "Thank you. I'll keep it in mind."

You smiled at that. "I'll see you around."

"See you around," he hummed, gaze never leaving your figure even as you left, his eyes steady on the path you walked on as he mulled over your words.

It was kind of weird advice, but at the same time, it made perfect sense.

Peter didn't question it nor did he judge—who was he to judge? After all, everyone handled grief differently.

But as he sat down on the ground, eyes steady on the lettering of May's name, he found the words flowing out so easily.

"Hi, May I—" Peter took a sharp breath, blinking away the sting that started to settle in his eyes. "Wow. It's been a while since I've talked to you, huh?"

It started out simple, filling her up with what was new with his life recently—the job, his education, all those mundane stuff.

But then as he shifted from one topic to another, he inevitably started talking about all the things that felt so wrong. And once that train left the station, it was so difficult to stop.

It wasn't a complaint. It was an unloading of the baggage he'd been carrying around alone for quite some time now.

All the loneliness and grief, the boiling anger and consuming regret, the love and the love lost, to the bleak look of what his future held.

Peter didn't realize he was crying until a soft gush of wind brushed his cheeks, the coldness making him catch his breath with a shiver.

And then, a small white butterfly flew right in front of him, stopping momentarily before disappearing into the now setting sky.

Peter let out a breath.

Lighter and relieved.

It could've been a coincidence, or maybe it wasn't at all.

But what more could he lose if he took that as a sign that she heard him?

So with a small, tearful smile, he sighed,

"Thanks for always hearing me out, May."

Since then, he'd grown to tell May about his day. Some were tougher than others, while some were snippets of his new life—mundane and simple but starting to become fulfilling the more he looked at it from different perspectives.

As the weeks passed by, Peter's everyday visits became every other day. At first, the guilt of missing a day was heavily consuming. But it didn't take long for it slowly turn into a soft lull—still there, but not as bad as it used to be.

There was one other thing he hoped for whenever he wandered into the graveyard, though.

To see you again.

If it was one last time just so he could say thank you, then he'd take it.

That didn't mean he wasn't wishing for it to be more.

•••

The hair on every inch of Peter's body stood up when he heard it.

It was definitely not his spider sense going awry. This was very much a human reaction.

Well, he could imagine that when the first thing a person would hear as they venture into a graveyard in the dead of the night was crying, even the toughest men would get spooked.

But as soon as Peter located the source of the sound, his heart broke.

He wasn't expecting to find you, sat on the cold ground alone, hugging your knees to your chest, body shaking with sobs.

His first instinct was to fight whoever it was that made you cry because how fucking dare they?

But with a controlled breath, Peter walked over to you, making sure to step on dried leaves so you'd be aware of his presence.

Your head snapped up at the sound, puffy red eyes landing on him.

His frown could only deepen as he slowly sat beside you, offering you a tender smile with his arms wide open.

You stared at him with furrowed brows, eyes switching between his face and his open arms, downright confused.

Peter couldn't blame you. After all, you didn't know him.

He was ready for you to yell at him for being a creep, to scream at him to get lost. He was prepared for you to push him away—hell, punch him in the face—and run as fast as you could.

But instead, your lips quivered, a broken sob following suit. With your head hung low, you fell into his embrace.

And Peter hugged you as tightly as he could.

He didn't say anything, didn't feel like it was needed. He simply held you close, rubbing circles over your back as he gently rocked you from side to side.

Crying it all out until you couldn't anymore was, most of the time, the best thing you could do at the moment.

So he let you.

Only when your sobs turned to sniffles to soft shaky breaths did you pull away. 

"Your shirt," you gasped shakily, bottom lip jutting out as your eyes began to water again. "Oh no, I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," he reassured, squeezing your shoulders before reluctantly letting you go. "I wouldn't have offered you a hug if I minded."

"Thank you," you whispered. "I really needed that."

"No worries." He nodded with a small smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's just—" you sighed, wiping your face with the sleeves of your coat. "It's my first holiday alone so it's been kinda tough."

"Me too," he hummed, smiling sadly when you looked at him, a mixture of surprise and understanding crossing your face. "My parents have been gone since I was a kid, and I was left with my uncle and aunt. My uncle died a few years ago so all I had left was her but now she's…"

"I'm sorry," you softly said, your hand finding his.

You gave it a squeeze.

Peter squeezed back.

"I only had my parents growing up," you started, gesturing at the tombstone. "Didn't get to meet my grandparents, never really met many of my relatives because they're all halfway across the world, so now it's just me."

Peter didn't know what it was, exactly. Maybe it was the warmth of your hand still holding his and your kind eyes bearing no judgment or pity. Maybe it was the sheer comfort you provided, one that he still couldn't quite explain.

Either way, he found himself sharing what it had been like for him. Sure, he left out details to keep his deepest secret uncovered, and to come and think about it, it was mostly things connected to Aunt May. But Peter definitely spilled way too much to someone he barely even knew.

He did not regret it one bit.

"I promised to protect her and I—"

"I'm sure you gave it your all," you assured.

"Not enough to keep her alive," he scoffed, tone far more bitter than he intended to. He caught himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, sorry—"

"Never apologize for how you feel," you said firmly.

Peter nodded, his attention caught by your thumb that was absentmindedly running circles over the back of his hand. You'd been holding onto it as you listened to his story, and he found himself not minding it at all.

If anything, a part of him wanted you to never let go.

"But I get it," you breathed out. "The whole 'this is my fault' thing."

"Was it an accident?" he asked softly.

You nodded. "Car crash. Some drunk frat boys thought it was a good idea to test out how fast they could go in their new truck into an open road."

He frowned. "That's not your fault."

"It is," you insisted. "They wouldn't have been out on the road in the first place if they weren't coming to pick me up in the dead of the night." Shaking your head, you scoffed, "I wish I could say I was at a friend's house but they were coming to bail me out of jail."

Attempting to lighten up the mood, Peter softly bumped his shoulder with yours. "Am I in the midst of a troublemaker?"

That earned him a teary chuckle.

He took it as a win.

"Not quite," you sighed, your smile fading. "Got hung up with the wrong crowd. They kept teasing me that I was too much of a miss goody two shoes and that I should live a little."

"Peer pressure is one nasty thing."

"Yeah well, I still did it." You shrugged, anxiously gnawing on your bottom lip. "A group of us were walking home from a party and we passed by this random minimart on the way. My so-called friends thought it was a good idea to dare me to steal one thing from the store, to break my 'good girl' streak as they put it.

"They all gave me ultimatums, one of them was either I steal something or they'll tell the whole school that I was the real definition of 'The freaks in bed are always the quiet ones' so my loser reputation is no more. They said they can't hang around me anymore if I kept being the loser of the group. It was tough because they were all the friends I had."

Peter couldn't stop the surge of pure anger that ran through him. "They sound fucking horrible."

"Yeah, and I was stupid enough to go along with it." Shaking your head, you chuckled, tone void of humor. "It wasn't even the owner who saw me, it was some random white woman yelling bloody murder as if I was burning the goddamn place down. And the second my friends saw the security guards? Oh, they ran, left me there to fend for myself."

Peter unclenched his fist, settling to rub circles on your back instead.

"It was one candy," you choked back a sob, gesturing towards the tombstone. "But the punishment feels—"

Peter wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a side hug when you started crying again.

"And you know what hurts most?" you whimpered, fisting his jacket as you laid your head on his shoulder. "Knowing that the last memory they had of me was just filled with disappointment."

"I'm sure that's not true," he said softly, squeezing you close. "They loved you."

"I know they did I just—"

"Wish you could go back and change every decision you made?"

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him, eyes glossy yet he saw the flicker of gratefulness in them.

Peter felt it in himself too, an appreciation to finding someone who could understand even the littlest bit of what he was going through.

"Yeah," you shakily breathed out, letting out a soft laugh as you wiped your nose. "God, what a way to celebrate the holidays, huh?"

He chuckled at that, nodding.

It was definitely something, crying your heart out, spilling all your trauma to a stranger in the dead of night at a graveyard.

But there was only one thought that stayed at the forefront of his mind.

Peter didn't feel so alone anymore.

"Yeah," he hummed, a shy smile playing on his lips. "But I'm glad I'm not alone."

Your whole face brightened, your fingers interlacing with his.

"Me too," you said, smiling. "We're going to be okay."

Peter felt some weight lift off his entire back at those simple words of reassurance.

"We're going to be okay."

Teasingly bumping his shoulder with yours, you hummed, "I'm Y/N, by the way."

You both laughed at the absurdity of it, getting to know each other's pain, regret, hurt and grief before even getting the chance to know a name.

"Peter," he sighed, squeezing your hand. "Peter Parker."

Later that night, he somehow gathered up the courage to ask if you wanted to get some hot cocoa with him. And when you said yes with that smile he'd grown to adore so much, Peter had an inkling that you wouldn't stay a stranger to him in the long run.

But for now, as you laid your head on his shoulder, your soft breaths visible in the cold air, tiny snowflakes on your lashes, face glowing underneath the moonlight, warmth and contentment bloomed in his chest.

Peter was smiling.

Genuine and pure, and perhaps a sign of a new beginning.

A stranger's comfort wasn't so bad, after all.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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[blossomwritesthings]

Hii one I loved your recent Minho sickfic, I was wondering if you could write one the other way around but with Felix where he’s sick, (maybe he has a migraine) and the reader takes care of him. 🙁❤️❓

𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬

pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!felix. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. a lot of angst. felix is sick (with a migraine). reader is soft and caring for him. felix kinda has low self-esteem/doubts about his worth. slight possessive behavior from y/n (in a soft way!!). pet names (affectionately). reader praises felix a ton. toothe-rotting cuteness.

word count: 3.9k

summary: when your boyfriend felix unexpectedly falls ill with a bad migraine, you automatically throw yourself into the caretaker role. but maybe he needs more than just some pills to relieve the pain... maybe, all the medicine he really needs is you.

a/n: this was a fun request to write because having personally suffered from debilitating migraines since i was a little girl, i enjoyed exploring what this could look like for felix, while also incorporating my own experiences with these kinds of symptoms into the fic. lix is so beautiful and I just want to wrap my arms around him and give him a nice, long hug. 🥹💖 NO ONE touch me rn- i'm in my soft felix hours!!! 😭 hope you like this, anon... thanks for requesting! :))

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

 You automatically knew something was wrong the moment you stepped into a dark apartment. As the front door slammed behind you, you fumbled to find the nearby light switch before turning it on, throwing the nearby kitchen-dining room into a flood of warm light. 

 Because although this was the time when you usually arrived home from work to find your boyfriend, Felix, sprawled out across the living room couch relaxing and playing his favourite video games on the large tv, the space was devoid of any life. 

 Strange. 

 With a glance at the clock inlaid within the stovetop, it read just a little past ten in the evening. Surely, he must not have been home, otherwise, at least a few lights would be switched on in the apartment. He was probably still at the company, working his ass off in practice or doing vocals lessons. Typical Lee Felix. 

A content sigh fled from your lips as you placed your bag down atop the kitchen counter, your shoulder feeling instant relief from the absence. You closed your eyes for a few moments, basking in the utter silence of the apartment before you made your way into the only bedroom just off to the left. Your shared place with your boyfriend wasn’t very spacious, but it was affordable, and it was your own, and that’s all that mattered. 

 Upon entering the pitch-black bedroom, you let out a low grumble to yourself, “We should just keep on a damn nightlight for when we’re away,” you stumbled about in the darkness before you came in contact with your nightstand and switched on the light. 

 And as soon as the room erupted in brightness, you noticed the figure curled up on the bed. For a moment, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. Stopping there, and slowing for a few seconds. Because… had someone broken into your place? A fan, perhaps? Or… a stalker? 

But then, almost immediately after those terrifying thoughts crossed your mind, you recognized the small body. 

 You recognized it all too well. 

 Without even thinking about your next actions, you were flying across the small bedroom. Bending down towards the crumpled form, your gaze came in contact with glassy, dark brown eyes. 

 “Felix- what are you-” You began in disbelief, completely taken aback by his presence. 

 But then he was wincing in pain, closing his eyes again, plush bottom lip quivering just a little bit. “T-The light… can you please turn it off?” His voice was gravelly and low like it hadn’t been used in a while. 

 You didn’t even have to ask why, because you already knew the answer to his odd request. 

  A migraine. 

 And if he was asking for the lights to be off, it must’ve been pretty bad. 

So after you were finished switching off the lamp on your nightstand, you made for the large bay window that was on the other side of the room. You slowly pulled open the curtains until just a sliver of light was filtering through the black-out fabric. After all, you still had to see. 

 Then you were flitting over to Felix again, positioning yourself on the edge of the bed, tilting into him. You reached up to his head and carded a few fingers through his sandy-blonde hair gently. “How long have you had it?” You asked, making sure to keep your voice quiet. His having a migraine wasn’t a new thing. He was highly susceptibly to head pain, and would regularly get headaches throughout the month. But the migraines were always the worst of it all. And with the light sensitivity? That wasn’t a good sign… 

“Woke up with it,” he said in a soft voice. Just then, he cracked his eyes open weakly, his gaze locking with yours. The furrow between his brows and the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks told you all you needed to know about the discomfort he was in. 

 “Which number is this one?” Your fingers took to massaging his scalp in languid increments, watching the way his face scrunched up in apparent relief. 

 “Sixth this month.” 

 “Wow-” You began, your heart throbbing for him. You hated seeing your loving boyfriend in so much pain. And it had already happened six times that month. “What do you think it’s from?” 

 “Stress, probably… that’s what Chan said, anyway.” 

 “What are you so stressed about?” You prodded him, pushing a few of his light strands from out of his eyesight. 

 He groaned and pushed his face into his pillow. “What am I not stressed about?” His voice was muffled against the downy feathers, but you still heard it nonetheless. “It’s… everything, and yet nothing, all at the same time.” 

 “Lix…” You began, voice hesitant, sending a hush across the bedroom. Your fingers stopped their movement in his hairline, your eyes racking over his form. He was clad in his favourite oversized dark blue graphic t-shirt that had a scene from a cartoon that he had grown up watching in Australia. Loose black sweatpants fit snugly around his waist, and he was halfway wrapped up in your bed’s thick duvet comforter. “I’m worried about you…” You trailed off as he moved his head away from his pillow. 

 Biting down hard on his bottom lip, his eyes took on a certain pleading kind of light. “Please… don’t stop.” He all but whispered, motioning towards your fingers that were resting gently atop his head. And the pitiful look on his face just then, the way his voice cracked just a little bit from his misery, forced your chest to squeeze with hurt. 

 “This isn’t healthy for you, baby,” you started up again on the massaging, eliciting a low moan of relief to fall from your boyfriend’s lips. “You need to take a break, yeah?” 

 “How can I possibly do that when everyone is depending on me?” He chuckled in a dry, humorless kind of way. “Besides, this won’t be forever. I’m just getting them a ton because we’re preparing for the new repack and it’s hell at the company right now.” 

 “Still…” Your voice trailed off, as your fingers fled from his hair and swept over one of his temples. His eyelids fluttered at the delicate press of your digits against his heated skin, and a pleased smile spread across your lips. At least you knew how to help him in moments like these. “I just hate to see you feeling so shitty, you know? Want my baby to be healthy all of the time.” 

 At your words, Felix turned from his side so that his back was flush against the mattress. His hair was mussed from sleep and your fingers running through it, his freckled cheeks dusted in light pink from your words. “Damn, have I ever told you how much I love you?” 

 You took a finger and playfully poked at his side, “Yeah, but it wouldn’t hurt for you to tell me again…” You wiggled your eyebrows in a taunting kind of way. 

 And the last thing you saw was his sly grin before he was pulling you towards him. In an instant, he had his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight to his warm, comfy body and peppering your face with dozens of light kisses. “Love you… so much, angel.” He mumbled against your skin, pecking each of your cheeks. “Love the way you take care of me, hmm?” 

 You chuckled at that, pressing your mouth against his in a loving, serene kiss. “And I love you too,” you started, before positioning yourself away from him and his searching mouth. “Which is why I wanna take care of you tonight. Will you let me, baby boy?” 

 He tilted in just then and pushed a fervent kiss against your lips once more. “Only if you’ll let me do the same next time you’re feeling shitty.” He rose a dark, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way. And you knew, at that moment, he wasn’t going to budge. Everything with him was reciprocal. If you helped him in any way, loved him in any form, he felt obligated to return it - usually tenfold. 

 So you merely nodded your head in agreement, “Fine, I’ll allow you to help me next time I’m down and out.” You blew a few raspberry kisses against his cheeks, making him huff out a deep-throated laugh. Then you were separating yourself from him completely. “Now, onto the real business of things… have you eaten anything all day?” 

 It was a common occurrence for him to skip all meals entirely when he had a bad migraine, so it was no surprise to you when the look on his face turned slightly meek.“I just had a light breakfast so that I could take my medicine, but it’s definitely worn off by now, so I need to take some more” 

 Standing up from the bed in one fluid motion, you rested your hands against your hips in determination. “Then it’s set- I’ll make you dinner.” 

 He peered up at you through his wispy blonde fringe, “B-But you just got home from work and-”

 You quickly held a finger up to your lips to silence any of his protests. “Ah- remember what you promised me, baby? That you’d let me take care of you tonight?” You sent him a glare, yet there was not a threat to be had in it. 

 A tiny smirk cracked across his lips, “Yeah, yeah- I remember…” He rolled his eyes at you, before snuggling further down into the bed. He was a literal blanket burrito- covered in sheets and the thick duvet coverlet. 

 “Anything you’d like in particular?” 

 “Nah- I love everything you cook.” 

 You tossed him a laugh as you headed for the closed bedroom door, “Ha- tell that to Minho… who’s apparently, the local sous chef around these parts.” 

 As you filtered out of the bedroom, you heard your boyfriend’s laugh follow behind you. At least your presence could take his mind off of the pain. He always said it did. He told you on multiple occasions how having you around him in times like these helped to alleviate some of the discomfort in his head. How, you were like a cooling salve to the throbbing in his temples, always there to support him and give him love when he needed it the most. 

 That night, you awoke to the feeling of shifting on Felix’s side of the bed. Gradually peeling your eyes open and turning your head on your pillow, you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend in the dim lighting of the bedroom. He was sitting up, spine curved, shoulders drawn low, desperately holding his head in his hands. 

 “Baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, concern dripping into your tone as sleep immediately left you. The sight of his slouched form made your heart race because you despised seeing him in such a poor state. 

 “Nauseous.” Is all he could manage to garble out, voice cracking with anguish.

 You chewed on your lip anxiously, pushing yourself up from your pillow and nearing him. You grabbed Felix’s hand, languidly threading your fingers together with his and squeezing gently. “What do you need from me, babe?” You whispered, drawing small patterns against his warm palm with one of your thumbs. 

 A shudder ran through the length of him, as he clutched at his sandy-blonde roots in bated silence, “N-Nothing helps at this point…” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head ever so slowly. 

 “Do you want me to rub your head like earlier?” One of your hands traveled up his spine, stopping just at the nape of his neck. You began to massage circles into his scalp. “Will that help you feel better, Lix?” 

 Then unexpectedly, he was grabbing ahold of your hand in one swift movement. Your eyes widened in surprise at the frantic look in his eyes just then, as they stared back at you in utter distress. “P-Please, don’t touch my head… just makes me feel worse.” 

 You pulled him towards you, enveloping him in a loose hug. He practically melted in your embrace, his muscles softening at your touch. His entire body was so warm - it always was, like he was your very own heated teddy bear - and you wrapped your arms around his waist, squeezing lightly. “Okay, baby. Whatever you need, I’m here for you, okay?” Your lips found his face in the darkness, and you pressed delicate kisses against his skin. When your mouths collided, you kissed him with all of the gentlenesses in the world, and for a few beats, he returned the kisses. 

 After heavy silence had washed over the bedroom, casting everything in a delicate, forlorn kind of aura, you pulled away from him to catch your breath. And even in the darkness of the room, you could see the hint of pink dusted across your boyfriend’s cheeks. “L-Love the way you kiss me, angel,” he whispered, leaning into you to press another tentative kiss against your lips.

 “I’ve always adored your beautiful mouth,” you replied, a tiny smile cracking across your lips when you pulled apart for air once more. You reached up to him then, tracing a finger around the line of his mouth. “So pretty for only me.” Your hand moved away then, as you cupped one of his warm cheeks with your palm, and he instantly eased into your touch. He had told you in the past how your kisses always made him feel a little better. At the height of his agonizing migraines, he said your lips were like a healing cure for him. 

 And for a few moments, it felt like the potion had worked. A small, content smile adorned your boyfriend’s face, and the perpetual furrow in his brow loosened. His eyes brightened just a little bit at your compliment - at your praises - because he always loved when you said quiet, loving words to him. 

 But then, everything fell apart again- 

 You watched in suddenly tense silence, as his entire body nearly doubled over in pain, spine going completely rigid, ears flushing red, bottom lip trembling. 

 Then came the glossy eyes. You recognized them instantly, for it was an absolute sign of what was to come. 

 In a flash of limbs, he was throwing off the duvet coverlet that he had been wrapped up in, racing to the bathroom with you right on his tail. 

 He threw the toilet seat open just in time as he inclined over the basin, emptying the little contents that were left in his stomach. You hadn’t made him a big dinner - it had only consisted of some scrambled eggs and a small bowl of mixed berries. But even still, it was enough to make him nauseous. 

 “Let it all out, baby,” you encouraged. You were at his side throughout it all, rubbing his back gently as Felix retched up everything he could muster, his stomach spasming with the effort. “It’s gonna be okay…” It fucking hurt you so much to see him in such a condition. You despised seeing the love of your life - your other half - suffering so much. 

 It seemed like it lasted forever, but finally- he pushed away from the basin with a deep groan. You quickly leaned over him and ripped up some toilet paper for him to wipe his mouth with. 

 And when you handed it to him, you quickly realized that his eyes were misty, tears running down either of his cheeks, leaving wet tracks behind on his smoothe skin. The sight of your loving boyfriend breaking down irrevocably caused your heart to crack open into two ugly pieces, and you once again wrung your arms around his hips, bringing him into your chest and giving him a tight hug. You two sunk to the cold tiled bathroom floor, close to the toilet. 

 “I-I’m sorry, angel,” he hiccuped in between his sobs. He buried his face into the crook of your shoulder like he was ashamed of what had just happened. 

 “Don’t apologize, Felix.” You said, trying to put some sternness in your voice. Because why in the world did he have to apologize to you? You were his girlfriend, for fucks sake- taking care of him when he felt shitty was the most basic of things for you to do. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” 

 “Y-Yeah, but you’re always taking care of me… it’s a burden on your shoulders that you didn’t sign up for.” He practically wailed, his tears leaving wet stains against your pajama shirt. 

 “I want to take care of you, baby. I fucking love you, and I care about you. And don’t ever say that you’re a burden to me because you’re not.” You tried not to raise your voice in that tender moment, but his words just fueled the deep fire that was always simultaneously burning inside of you. 

 Because he had said such things before, in the past, when the mean and abusive comments online had gotten to him. When it seemed like everyone thought he was a burden, so he had just assumed that he was one to you as well. But in reality, that was the farthest thing from the truth. He wasn’t a burden to anyone; he was the light to so many people’s lives, but especially to yours. He brightened up your day with just his smile alone, and the way that he loved you - wholly and irrevocably - was such an exquisite thing. 

 “You really m-mean that?” His voice splintered at the end of his words, as he hugged you a little tighter, nestling his head into your warmth. 

 “Of course I fucking mean it, Lix,” you began, smoothing down his hair with a palm. “You’re the light of my world- the reason my life is so complete. And I’ll do anything for you.” At that, you were pulling him away from your chest. 

 The tip of his nose was pink and his eyes were bloodshot from the tears. And with one look into his shiny, deep brown eyes, which were dancing with so many different emotions, your heart broke just a little bit more in the pit of your chest. With gentle fingers, your thumbs wiped away his excess tears. At least the crying had stopped. 

 “Please don’t cry, baby,” you whispered to him, desperation dripping into your tone. “I hate to see you cry, Lixie.” You used the nickname that he always liked coming from you, and watched in silence, as it brightened his face just a little bit. 

 “O-Okay,” he nodded his head slowly, hand finding yours and squeezing your fingers there. “I’ll try… and, I don’t want to feel this way anymore, so I’m going to do everything in my power to not get so stressed out.”

 “That’s my good boy,” you laughed softly, reaching up to his head and gently ruffling his hair playfully. Your eyes flitted down to his face, which was shaded a crimson red from your words. You always loved to rile him up, even in the direst of moments. Seeing him blush so furiously did something wonderful to your ego. His blushes were always so... adorable. “How do you feel now?” 

 “A little better… I think that helped,” he canted his head to the porcelain toilet that was just beside the two of you, not wanting to even spell out the words to what had just happened. 

 “See, baby? I told you that you’d feel better,” you gave his shoulder a nudge, offering him a tiny smile. “Now, do you wanna brush your teeth, and then we can get back into bed?” 

 His eyes pulled away from the toilet and locked with yours, and thankfully- a little bit of that Lee Felix sparkle was back in them. Shining in his eyes, although dully. But at least it was there, even if it was a small amount. “Yeah… I’d like that very much.” 

 And with that, you took both of his hands and helped to hoist him up from the hard-tiled floor that the two of you had been sitting on for the last few minutes. You gently brushed his sandy-blonde hair out of his face as he worked at the sink, and when he was done, led him out of the bathroom and back to bed. 

 Leaning down into him, you tucked your boyfriend into bed, fitting the thick white duvet around his small frame. “Are you comfy?” You asked, as you bent forwards and pressed a kiss against his exposed forehead. 

 “No, not until I’m holding onto you,” he said in that deep voice of his, a sardonic smirk widening across his lips. Then, his hands were winding around your forearms, and you were yanked towards him. 

 You landed on top of his chest with a huff, sending a mirthful glare up his way. “I can hardly imagine that this is going to relieve your migraine.” Nevertheless, his arms wrapped around your waist, pressing your bodies close together. 

 “You must highly doubt the power that your cuddling abilities have over me,” he laughed, and at that moment, it felt like it was the first time that he had done so in ages. Gone was the bleary-eyed shaking Felix from before, in the bathroom. That man had been replaced with your Lix… all bright smiles and tinkling laughter making your chest pound with love. 

 “So I guess we’re just gonna fall asleep this way, then?” You rose an eyebrow his way, earning a dark chuckle from your boyfriend. 

 “Only if you want to.” 

 “Oh, I fully intend to lay here until I am physically forced to move. However, I’m just wondering if you’re up for that challenge.” 

 “Are you fucking kidding me, angel?” He tilted up to you then, pressing a fervent kiss against your lips. “If I could be joined to your hip for the rest of my life, I think I’d take up the offer.” 

 A wide smile broke across your face. “It’s settled then, I’ll be staying right here for the foreseeable future.” You said, pressing a light peck against the warm skin of one of his cheeks. 

 Just then, the both of you erupted into a fit of giggles, as Felix squeezed his arms around you tight, and you gave him slobbery kisses on his nose and forehead. 

 And all at once, the pain and heartache and suffering were forgotten, as the air around the two of you danced with love and happiness. Pure adoration glittered in Felix’s eyes, shining across his face in a wide grin. And you were almost positive that your face was mimicking his expression- which was made clear by the warmth that bloomed across your cheeks at his arms squeezing your waist tightly, and how your soul fluttered just a little bit at the way his perfect mouth kissed you again and again.

 Because he wasn’t a burden. 

 He never had been one, and he never was going to be one. 

 Lee Felix was perfect just the way he was; small frame, fragile spirit, migraines and all. 

 All of it was utterly perfect. 

 He was like an ethereal little pixie, all rainbows and sparkles and butterflies, and everything pretty and warm and bright in the world. 

 And the best part of it all? 

 Was that he was all yours. 

 And you weren’t planning on sharing all of him with the rest of the world - you were only going to allow the outer-most parts of him for everyone else to see and cherish. 

 But the most-beautiful bits of his spirit? 

 Of his soul?

 The tender moments, the sweet kisses, the serene smiles, the silky words? 

 Yeah, you were going to keep those locked away nice and tight inside your heart, so that only you had access to the innermost parts of Lee Felix. 

 Fin. 

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© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #fanfiction #no reposting #kpop imagines #stray kids Felix #Felix x reader #Felix fic #Felix imagines #Felix scenarios #Felix angst #Felix fluff #lee Felix imagines #lee Felix scenarios #lee Felix angst #lee Felix fluff #lee Felix x reader #lee Felix x y/n #Felix x y/n #lee Felix fanfic #Felix fanfic #Kpop fanfiction #skz Felix angst #skz lee Felix angst

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Link Limit Reached! Check out replies for more recs ^^

~*~

1. Any fics where wwx dies and becomes a water spirit? Or any plain water spirit wwx stories?

the past drifts away with the waves by thelastdboy (E, 5k, wangxian, WWX & Wen remnants, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, canon divergence, fall of lotus pier, major characger undeath, YZY being an asshole, implied/referenced child abuse, minor character death, major character injury, amputation, loss of limbs, transformation, merpeople, fierce corpse WWX, kind of, merperson WWX, resentful creature WWX, undead WWX, riverspirit WWX, it gets worse before it gets better, heavy angst w happy ending, no sunshot, hurt/comfort, politics, not cultivation world friendly, slow burn, getting together, revenge, demonic cultivation, WWX pov, dark WWX, monsterfucker LWJ, wen remnants live, sect leader WQ, WIP) i recently started this story

You still sound like a song by Moominmammashandbag (M, 64k, wangxian, WIP, Ghost!WWX, Mystery, LWJ plays inquiry, AU from after the Wens came to Lotus Pier, Most people lived, not everybody died, Angst with a Happy Ending, river spirit!WWX, Angst and Feels, description of murder, imminent smut, Execution, bad dog names, Poisons, Discussion of Attempted Murder, BAMF WWX, Family Feels)

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2. Hi! I recently saw the rec about a fic where WWX was pregnant and didn’t know, it was called blood, google and love, I believe, and I‘ve read that, and the fic inspired by the same post. So now I‘m in the mood for that „he didn’t know he was pregnant“ scenario. I don’t really care who the one pregnant is. Thank you so much! @desperation-is-my-middle-name​

Little fall of rain by luckymoonly (M, 10k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, WWX didn’t now he was pregnant, mpreg, family feels, soft LQR, misunderstandings, jealous LWJ, fluff & angst, happy ending, smut, breastfeeding, thirsty granny, JGS being usual self)

Impermanence, Transience, Permanence by Best Bepsy (BepsyGray) (E, 39k, wangxian, canon divergence, unplanned pregnancy, mpreg, gore, sunshot campaign, assumed miscarriage, medical procedures, childbirth, golden core reveal) And there's the, "I didn't know I was /still/ pregnant" fic 

Surprise Baby! by trulywicked (M, 10k, wangxian, modern cultivation, ABO, mpreg, unplanned pregnancy, accidental baby acquisation, didn’t know he was pregnant, birthing scene, blood, established relationship, fluff)

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3. hello!! can you guys suggest some hidden/secret child or any stories like lwj didnt know he had a child with wwx

The time we’ve lost by Anye (T, 54k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Everyone Is Alive, But they don't know that, Eventual Happy Ending, Slow Build, Twins, Misunderstandings)

Nothing but your heart by airinshaw (E, 21k, wangxian, modern, ABO, implied mpreg, first time, getting together, drama, angst w happy ending, anal sex, whump, breeding kink)

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4. Hello! If this ask is repeated please ignore it I’ve got a memory as bad as wwx and I forgot if I asked this already or not (Not to worry even if it WAS a repeat ask! ITMF posts have a lot of popular asks cycling through frequently ☺️ Repeats are even encouraged since there might have been found even more fics fitting those asks later on ~Mod L)

Anyways, for the itmf I’d like some kind of time travel but starring their parents, like Madam Lan or Canse or Wei Chanze or even Qinghengjun. But please it’s gotta have at least a little bit of wangxian too

Thank! Again sorry if I already asked this

🧡 All will be well when the day is done by abCEE (T, 76k, wangxian, time travel, canon divergence, fix it, not YZY friendly, not Jiang friendly, butterfly effect, no sunshot, madam lan lives, lan WWX) /technically/ a YZY time travel fic?

An Inch of Grass, and All The Sunshine of Spring by ChilianXianzi (T, 1k, wangxian, CSSR/WCZ, CSSR & LWJ &WCZ, time travel, grief/mourning, parent-child relationship, found family, fluff & angst, CSSR & WCZ live, WIP) Does it count if it’s to the future? Either way, CSSR/WCZ time travel

The Long Winding Road Home by Admiranda (T, 12k, CSSR/WCZ, wangxian, time travel, post-canon, not JC friendly, fluff, family reunion, mocking LQR to his face, mocking JC to his face, wild rumours) another CSSR/WCZ travel forward in time

Love you always, in any form you come in by YumichanHamano (G, 7k, wangxian, CSSR/WCZ, post-canon, time travel, fluff) CSSR/WCZ time traveling forward again

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5. Hey ! This is a request for a very specific fic (not a fic finder ) Modern setting is preferred!

Is there any story where either lwj or wwx struggle with understanding social cues /jokes having trouble not being able to hold small talk etc.and people ( friends) making mean comments reactions to , etc..

Like struggling with mental health or

Basically struggling with neurodivergency not knowing their condition/ late diagnosis .

The Bunny Next Door by detailsinthefabric (E, 43k, WangXian, Modern AU, Bottom LWJ, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, LWJ Has Feelings, Soft WangXian, Internally Screaming LWJ, Neighbours)

this author writes neurodivergent wangxian in a very soft and gentle way her fics are locked to the archive so I don't know if I can link any fics?

leave all your love and your longing behind  by ScarlettStorm (E, 143k, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Meet-Ugly,   Panic Attacks, autistic lwj, neurodivergent wwx, the neighborhood   asshole dog, if you’ve met one then you know, Hurt/Comfort, Pining,   Minor Angst, major shenanigans, Happy Ending, for everyone including the   asshole dog, Eventual Smut, switch rights, Sex Toys, horny yearning, Masturbation)

maybe together we can get somewhere (any place is better) by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 49k, LXC & LWJ, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, LWJ & LQE & LXC, modern, coming of age, QHJ raises his kids, child neglect, implied/referenced child abuse, teen romance, angst w happy ending, first kiss, implied/referenced suicide, implied/referenced self-harm, neurodivergent wangxian)

When we were small by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 7k, LXC & LQR & LWJ, LQR & WWX, modern, kid fic, good uncle LQR, neurodivergent LWJ, baby LWJ, baby WWX, parenthood, homophobia, implied/referenced child abuse, LQR pov, implied/referenced underage sex, grief/mourning, hurt/comfort)

deliciousblizzardshark also writes neurodivergent wangxian as well !

Lan Wangji and the Artificial Phallus by deliciousblizzardshark (E, 15k, wangxian, LWJ & MM, LWJ & LXC, modern, neurodivergent LWJ, virgin LWJ, WWX has ADHD, single parent WWX, trans WWX, implied/referenced trans male pregnancy, getting together, fluff & humor, panic attacks, anxiety, implied/referenced ableism, unreliable narrator, masturbation, bottom LWJ)

Heaven, Wait by sunflowersfield (T, 2k, wangxian, modern, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, neurodiversity, falling in love, getting together, happy ending, first dates, first kiss, hyperfixations, strangers to lovers, meet-cute)

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6. Hi. I’m kinda new to the whole tumbler asking and all 😅. But I would like to know if you have an fic where it

A) yu ziyuan bashing or the whole jiang family bashing

B) Everyone loving Wei ying and protective of him

C) The junior squad ABSOLUTELY LOVING wei ying ( i LOVE this prompt 😅🥹)

6A)

💖  Lessons relearned  by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu   Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical   Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse   Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing) link in #10

A Curse Upon Your House (Nearly Worn Wings Take Flight) by Preludian_Staves (T, 5k, wangxian, canon divergence, curses, not YZY friendly, off-screen death, rogue cultivator WWX, happy ending, canon-typical violence, no war au, WWX leaves Jiang sect, JFM chooses YZY over WWX)

💖 Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting)

Through the Storm by marhikit (T, 33k, WangXian, Wen Xu/Male OC, WWX has siblings, Canon Divergence, Not Jiang Family Friendly, No golden core transfer, JZX & WWX friendship)

Debts of a Child by Hauntcats (M, 115k, WangXian, dark, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters.)

🧡 All will be well when the day is done  by abCEE (T, 76k, wangxian, time travel, canon divergence, fix it, not  YZY friendly, not Jiang friendly, butterfly effect, no sunshot, madam lan lives, lan WWX) link in #4

💖 Let the Heavens be the judge) by A_Mirror_of_memories (T, 4k, wangxian, time travel, fix-it, not JC friendly, not YZY friendly)

the world wags on by justdoityoufucker (T, 5k, WCZ & WWX, WCZ & LQR, WCZ/LQR, canon divergence, pre-canon, WCZ lives, not everyone dies au, not Jiang friendly, past child abuse, canon Jiang family dynamics, not YZY friendly, parent- child relationship)

Haunted by FlautistsandPeonies (M, 8k, CSSR/WCZ, CSSR & WWX & WCZ, canon divergence, revenge, not YZY friendly, not JC friendly, not Jiang friendly, non-linear narrative, canonical child abuse, child neglect, WIP but chapters can stand alone)

💖 Xiao-Ying of the Third Refugee Village by abCEE (T, 31k, wangxian, WWX banished from Jiang sect, not Jiang friendly, found family, mpreg, fluff, flirting)

💖 Light Source by abCEE (M, 31k, wangxian, not Jiang friendly, no golden core transfer, fall of the jiang sect, happy ending)

💖  in payment, a hand series by justdoityoufucker (M, 10k, wangxian, not jiang friendly, amputation, injury recovery, self reflection, abusive YZY, families of choice)

💖 To Speak Up by Vrishchika (M, 7k, wangxian, modern, child abuse, child neglect, not jiang friendly)

💖 crying like a fire in the sun by cl410 (T, 10k, wangxian, runaway WWX, not YZY friendly, rogue cultivator WWX, post-cloud recesses study, grandmother BSSR, angst w/ happy ending)

re 6a, I think we have Jiang Cheng bashing comp lol which might be up their alley

6C)

🧡 the stone-filled sea by yukla (T, 9k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Post-Canon, senior wei defense squad, [Podfic] the stone-filled sea by yukla by Beria1021, the stone-filled sea [Podfic] by BrickGrass) THIS ONE for #6c (junior squad loving wwx) but it’s mostly sizhui and jingyi

The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (T, 19k, WangXian, In-Universe RPF, Romance Novel, Post-Canon Fix-It, The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea))

~*~

7. Hellooo, for the next itmf; I'm looking for a fic with alpha wwx and omega lwj. preferably a long fic but it doesn't really matter. Thank you!

Until There Was You Series by farawayanddreaming, InTheGreySpaces (E, 50k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Omega Verse, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, LWJ In Denial About Sexuality, Bottom LWJ, Omega LWJ, Beta LXC, Sibling Incest, Sex as Therapy, LXC is the Best Brother, Worldbuilding, Lore creation, Canon Divergence, Submissive LWJ, but only kind of, Jade-cest, Chronic Pain, Terminal Illnesses, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Gentle Dominant WWX, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian)

to eclipse the night by quillifer (E, 15k, WangXian, Courtesan AU, alpha courtesan wwx, Omega LWJ, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, Canon-era AU, light Violence, off-screen mentioned noncon (not btwn main ship), noncon, A/B/O, minor mentions of future mpreg)

your heart of shadows, your eyes like stars by DrPanda99 (E, 62k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega LWJ, Alpha WWX, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, YLLZ WWX, LWJ Has a YLLZ Kink, Immortal WWX, Identity Porn, Humiliation, Voyeurism, Overstimulation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Canon-Typical Violence, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mildly Dubious Consent, Happy Ending, Alternate Sunshot Campaign, Marriage)

~*~

8. Any fanfic about Lan Wangji not growing up in the Lans? WangXian centric if possible. @catmaid-san​

The Dreams of Youth by sami (E, 86k, wangxian, time travel, fix-it, family, not lan sect friendly, canon typical violence & gore, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, mothers who live, some people live/not everyone dies, [Podfic] Cold read of The Dreams of Youth by kisahawklin) Lwj leaves the lan sect and is raised by his mother.

My Boy Builds Coffins by enbysaurus_rex (Not Rated, 48k, WangXian, Coffin Maker AU, YL WWX, Location: Yílíng, LWJ builds coffins, Autistic LWJ, falling in love over a coffin, Hurt WWX, Mutual Pining, LWJ Has Feelings, Deathscapes, Death as a bittersweet community thing, accidental ecofiction, Farmer LWJ)

~*~

9. Hi, please recommend  some of the best dark lwj fan fiction @dog-89

A Matter of Time by mrcformoso (E, 34k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation, Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX) After slaughtering many cultivators lwj travels back in time and takes wwx for himself. Not dark as in cruel, but on the dark end if morally grey- lwj kills anyone who tries to get in the way of him and wwx

💖 Ominous by 3neetee (T, 5k, wangxian, pre-relationship, established relationship, character death, fae & fairies, changelings, dark LWJ, dark WWX, BAMF WWX, graphic description, suicide, implied/referenced domestic violence)

💖 I just wanted to see you so bad by Blackberreh, ThatOnePlatypus (T, 1k, wangxian, canon divergence, dark LWJ, minor character death, blood)

💖 demons run when a good man goes to war by Miranda_Aurelia (T, 20k, wangxian, LWJ & NHS, JYL/JZX, canon divergence, angst w happy ending, NHS & LWJ friendship, not JGY friendly, dark LWJ, revenge, (presumed) major character death, not LXC friendly)

💖 Somewhere Sits an Empty Throne by Siamesa (E, 19k, WangXian, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, tgcf fusion, Gods & Goddesses, Ghosts, Romance, vengeance, Dark LWJ, Grief/Mourning, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst with a Happy Ending)

💖 Do you want to hear by allollipoppins, dameauxgentianes (T, 12k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, canon divergence, not everyone dies au, epistolary, Madam Lan lives, minor character death, dark LWJ, Lan WWX, bad parents JFM & YZY, good uncle LQR, no sunshot campaign)

💖  Like the sea loves the shore by Say (E, 15k, wangxian, LQY & WWX, implied/referenced WWX/WC, F/F, rule 63, dark LWJ, protective LWJ, sirens, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst w/ happy ending, eventual smut, human WWX, siren LWJ, age difference, non-human genitalia, minor character death)

💖  Buried in the Sky, Hallowed by thy Depths by themunchking (T, 9k, wangxian, supernatural elements, sirens, dark wangxian, canon-typical violence)

💖 The Way You Tremble by themunchking (E, 6k, wangxian, murder husbands, vampires, blood, violence, supernatural elements)

~*~

10. In the mood for a timetravel AU where it's not wangxian that timetravels but someone else.

Heliocentric by Aki_no_hikari (T, 13k, Time Travel Fix-It, slight angst at the beginning, badass wq, Murder, dark!wq, although not as dark as she could be) Wen Qing time travel

Who You Condemn by osiesaur (M, 53k, LXC/NMJ, LXC & LWJ, LXC & JGY, wangxian, time travel, canon divergence, semi-successful fix-it, 3zun dynamics, grief/mourning, chronic illness, angst w happy ending,not everyone dies au, WIP) LXC time travels (the other two fics in the series also have non-wangxian time travel)

Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It, Lynchpin [PODFIC] by Opalsong, [PODFIC] Lynchpin by Gwogobo)

Baby Of Mine by pupeez4eva (G, 3k, wangxian, time travel, humor, canon divergence, everyone lives, gusu school days, family) I really like this one where baby a-yuan time travels

💖 Alternative Choices by StarClearWaters (Readoutloud) (T, 20k, wangxian, time travel, butterfly effect, LXC pov, protective LXC, temporary character death, mpreg, panic attacks) LXC time travels multiple times

💖 Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing) LQR time travels

💖 The blame game by apathyinreverie (T, 13k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, WWX & WQ, LXC & WWX, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, possessive LWJ, oblivious WWX, fluff, siblings, romance, golden core reveal, golden core fix-it) LXC time travels, link in #16B

💖 secondhand regrets by spookykingdomstarlight (T, 18k, JGY/NHS, wangxian, NHS/WWX, time travel fix-it, canon divergence, curses, cloud recesses study arc, jealousy, misunderstandings, petty LWJ, pining, minor romantic experimentation between NHS/WWX, jealous LWJ) NHS time travels

💖 With Surgical Precision by metisket (T, 20k, WQ & WN, WQ & WWX, WangXian, Time Travel, Families of Choice, sibling bonding through murder) WQ time traveling

Jiang Rising by eebee (M, 134k, wangxian, JC & WWX & JYL, JC&WQ, JYL/LXC/NMJ, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, JYL is out of fucks, WQ never even had many, epistolary, polyamory negotiations, WIP) JYL time travels

Keeping Our Promises Unbroken by ColdBloodedReptile (M, 80k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL & WWX & JC, JYL & WQ, LWJ & JYL, canon divergence, time travel, fix-it of sorts, not everyone dies, angst w eventual happy ending, fluff, family feels, slow burn, JYL pov, found family, sibling bonding, protective siblings, occasional LWJ pov, canon-typical violence, WIP) here's a Yanli (and surprise other) time travel fic

💖 How Much Love Has the Inch Long Grass by Vainwyrm (M, 12k, WIP,  WangXian, ZhuiLingYi, XuanLi, Time Travel Fix-It, Permanent Injury,   Disability, Canon Disabled Character, Physical Disability, Non-canon   disabled character, Self-Worth Issues) The juniors time travel

💖 The Stuff of Legend by pupeez4eva (T, 21k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, time travel, humor, cloud recesses study days, post-canon, matchmaking, misunderstandings, WIP) Another time travel for juniors

💖 Who Ever Said the Past is Set in Stone? by Tekia (T, 24k, time travel, not a fix-it, and then a fix-it, canon-typical violence, sunshot campaign, canon divergence, suicidal ideation, suicidal thoughts, depression) juniors time travel multiple times

💖 The night sky is vast and wide by RedWritingHood (not rated, 5k, WC & WWX, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, WC the embodiment of fear and anxiety, PTSD, WC suffering, WC & WWX... friendship?, concerned WWX, frightened WC, sweetheart WN) Wen Chao ends up time traveling

💖 the peaceful old broad river by Sienne (not rated, 11k, WQ & WWX & WN, WQ pov, time travel, found family, family feels, no golden core transfer) WQ time travels in this one!

💖 A Brother's Choice by Admiranda (G, 8k, gen, time travel, yiling bros, animal death, minor character death, WN has no time for fools, YZY’s canonical cruelty, post-canon setting) WN time travels

💖 aim to repaint these days by NinthFeather (T, 2k, time travel fix-it, junior shenanigans, humor, sunshot campaign) Juniors again

💖 Drag Me Into Your Coffin (I Will Drag Your Sins Into the Light) by the5leggedCricket (G, 2k, canon divergence, temporary character death, time travel fix-it, BAMF LXC) LXC time travels

💖 Back in time  by LilacNeko (T, 32k, wangxian, time travel fix-it of sorts, angst, family feels, good kid LSZ, sad JL)

💖 i’ll keep walking by justdoityoufucker (orphan_account) (T, 2k, WQ &WWX & WN, wangxian, time travel fix-it, not JC friendly, everyone lives au, found family)

💖 parent trap by tongzhi (T, 23k, JL & LSZ & LJY & OYZZ, wangxian, JYL/JZX, time travel, cloud recesses study arc, humor, bad matchmaking)

💖 无别无离 | Without Farewells, Without Parting by dragongirlG (M, 30k, Junior Quartet, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Fix-It of Sorts, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, POV Alternating, Jin Ling’s Hundredth Day Celebration, qiongqi path, Family Feels, Hopeful Ending)

💖 Mission: Ensure A Better Future by a_dancer (Not rated, 21k, wangxian, junior quartet, time travel)

💖 Truth, Like an Arrow by Nahiel (T, 3k, wangxian, character death, time travel fix-it, WN is a good boy)

To Fix Your Twisted Reflection by Dgcakes (ficsnfun) (M, 167k, 3zun, time travel fix-it, slow burn, trust, healthy relationships, or at least trying)

Snapping brushes by Kayo_San (T, 63k, NHS & NMJ, time travel fix-it, Nie sect theories)

from the top, this time with personality by thunderwear (G, 15k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, time travel, JYL stands up for herself, family feels, WIP)

Sunlight Through Pines by handsofstardust (M, 66k, JGY/NMJ, wangxian, JZX/JYL, JC/NHS, time travel, eventual romance, pining, verbal abuse)

Wandering Eyes series by AstaraelWeeps (M, 14k, JGY & NHS, NHS & NMJ, JGY & NMJ & LXC, 3zun, time travel fix-it, outsider pov in the first part, JGY pov, murder, JGS being a creep, self-assigned honeypot, dub con, attempted rape/non-con, scheming NHS)

You might like fics in #4 and #16B also

~*~

11. ITMF request! (for when AO3 returns from the war): I am looking for WangXian fic that includes very close and loving Twin Jades (not Jadecest). Fics where LXC mercilessly teases his didi, where LWJ makes it his mission to pull his brother out of seclusion post-canon, where LXC and LWJ are "battle bros" of the highest order, where they try their damnedest to embarrass each other in front of other people in the most stoic, staid, subtle Lan way possible! @kimboo-york

~*~

12. i wanted to ask if there are any recs for fics in which wwx is saved by lwj, like from the jiangs or whatever, doesn't even have to be heavy whump, but very much jiang slandering.

(not yanli or jiang chen necessarily, but feel free to include anti madam and fengmian propaganda :3)!! @clawmark

🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 48k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU) also preludian_staves

~*~

13. In the mood for fics where people mistake Lan Sizhui as the biological son of WangXian / Lan Sizhui showing habits & similarities to WangXian (based off a reply to a previous ask - Mod C) @ihaveasoftspotfora-yuan

the-marathon-continues-nip: 13a, I have a fic that fits this in my bookmarks , I just have to find it , can the requester bookmark this post cause I might take a couple days to find it. it's a modern AU and it was a 5 times type thing where the premise was 5 times lan zhan got mistaken for being wen yuans dad or something like that over the years. it's very sweet. maybe somebody might remember it?

Just Like His Father by narikanyan (G, 2k, WangXian, Kid Fic, Mistaken Identity, A-Yuan is WWX's, Fluff, Falling In Love) I found it !!

~*~

14. Hi! For the next ITMF I wanted to ask for fics where WWX relates to YZY when he has to hide A-Yuan to save him at the siege (I don't even know if there's a fic like this lol) Like, both of them had to make the difficult decision to leave alone their child and go back to fight, and that was the last time they saw their children before dying. Thank you mods! @jiangclaritybell

~*~

15. Hi, I'm looking for stories where Lan Zhan overprotects Lan Sizhui. He is so overprotective that he won't let him leave Cloud Recesses without company. Sometimes he won't even let it out.If you can find stories that deal with that would be amazing. Thank you. @majhe2026

~*~

16. itmf for outsider pov fics

A) wangxian's relationship development through an outside perspective

B) time travel (doesn't matter who time travels back) through an outsider's perspective

16A)

💙 Su She Eats his Heart Out by KizuKatana (T, 16k, WangXian, 3rd person pov, implied offscreen wangxian sex)

16B)

I Have Been Selfish, Too by osiesaur (M, 176k, 3zun, JGY & NHS, JGY & JZX & MXY & QS, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, everyone lives au, outsider pov, happy ending, fluff & angst, scheming NHS, protective NHS, 3zun dynamics, anxiety, PTSD, mental health issues, chronic pain, chronic illness, canon-typical abuse & bigotry)

💖 That Moment When You Find Out That Your Classmates Apparently Have a Fighting Kink by BonBonWaifu (T, 2k, wangxian, canon divergence, time travel, outsider pov, NHS pov, sexual tension, fighting kink, cloud recesses study arc)

💖 Marry for Love by tuesday (T, 3k, JYL/NHS, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, minor character death, outsider pov, political marriage)

💖 The blame game by apathyinreverie (T, 13k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, WWX & WQ, LXC & WWX, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, possessive LWJ, oblivious WWX, fluff, siblings, romance, golden core reveal, golden core fix-it)

💖 Who Ever Said the Past is Set in Stone? by Tekia (T, 24k, time travel, not a fix-it, and then a fix-it, canon-typical violence, sunshot campaign, canon divergence, suicidal ideation, suicidal thoughts, depression) IIRC this one fits here too, link in #10

💖 bleed by justdoityoufucker (T, 5k, WangXian, Sunshot Campaign, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Families of Choice, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Canon JC Characteristics, Not Jiāng Chéng Friendly)

💖 Targets by nirejseki (G, 10k, NHS & NMJ, JC & WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX & JC, canon divergence, time travel, outsider POV, families of choice, unexpected consequences)

💖 things happen, don’t ask by MarbleGlove (T, 6k, wangxian, time travel, outsider POV, Mojo’s post)

💖 rerun from the outside by Eicas (T, 2k, wangxian, time travel, outsider pov, jiang cheng POV, Mojo’s post)

💖 Wei Wuxian’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good First Meeting With His Future by Enigmatree (T, 3k, wangxian, time travel, outsider pov, YLLZ WWX)

Wandering Eyes series by AstaraelWeeps (M, 14k, JGY & NHS, NHS & NMJ, JGY & NMJ & LXC, 3zun, time travel fix-it, outsider pov in the first part, JGY pov, murder, JGS being a creep, self-assigned honeypot, dub con, attempted rape/non-con, scheming NHS)

~*~

17. ITMF teen wangxian shenanigans

Fentao-laoshi's Guide to Cut-Sleeve Pleasures by occultings (microcomets) (E, 31k, wangxian, canon divergence, pining while fucking, friends w benefits, cloud recesses study arc, first time, practise kissing, sharing a bed, smut, loss of virginity, getting together, confessions, happy ending)

Wei Laoshi, Poonslayer by FeelsForBreakfast (E, 6k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, POV LWJ, straight boy wwx, Loss of Virginity, Getting Together)

when you love somebody, bite your tongue by sophiahelix (E, 17k, wangxian, cloud recesses study arc, first time, just the tip, only one bed, horny teenagers, sharing a bed, fantasizing, size kink)

your petals that bloom in the snow by lulu_kitty (T, 10k, wangxian, modern w magic, cloud recesses study arc, skaterboy WWX, everyone lives au)

Conjunction by DrJLecter (T, 12k, wangxian, cloud recesses study arc, soulmates au, soulmate identifying song, WWX is a menace, pining, supportive LXC, meddling LXC, LWJ pov)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what  you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

[lambourngb]

good fences make good neighbors

Commiseration Tuesday

With AO3 temporarily down, lots of us are sad at not being able to read when we wanted to! With that in mind, I’m taking the opportunity to invite you guys to share a little something from a WIP to keep us going through the downtime! Preferably something we haven’t shared before, but whatever works for you! Tagged by @ravens-words​ - thank you! I am working on an exchange fic, so I can’t share that, but I can share a WIP that I had before then...

ICEMAV - Set just after 1986 - based on a prompt where Mav and Ice are roommates and they have noisy neighbors. mentions of period-typical homophobia, and some misunderstandings ....

4400 words currently, but unfinished.

***

It was the third time that week.

Maverick stared sightless up at the plain white ceiling, tracing the cracks in the plaster while he listened to his next-door neighbors, Wolf and Hollywood, do their best to medal in the sex noise Olympics. It would be one thing if they decided to do this during the early evening hours when Mav could raise the volume on the ball game enough to drown out the moans and rhythmic thumping, but apparently, no one had any excess energy *right* after a work day. Instead, the second wind came at 2 am.

Again, the third time in the week, and it was only Tuesday. Christ.

Mav swung his legs out of bed, abandoning his attempts at sleep. Tomorrow's seminar on flight instructor certification was going to be rough, but judging from his recent experience, and god did he hate that he had this knowledge, the next-door noise had only just gotten started. It would be at least an hour before things quieted down again.

He met his own roommate in the dimly lit kitchen. Ice's face was flat with annoyance.

"Woke you up too?" Mav asked stupidly because, of course, it did. Ice was completely by the book and subscribed to the minimum of eight hours of sleep during the week; only the noise of Hollywood and Wolf would have had him in the kitchen nursing a warm bottle of Budweiser.

"I bet if I reported them to the brass, it would stop," Ice muttered darkly before pushing a chair open for Mav with his foot and nodding toward the open six-pack on the table.

"Well, just means they would be annoying their fellow prison cellmates with this instead of us." Mav traded a tired smile with Ice, both of them secure in the knowledge that reporting Hollywood and Wolf was completely out of the question. A few sleepless nights was a small price to pay for them, a momentary annoyance; a complaint about the two pilots breaking the UCMJ with each other would have them both dishonorably discharged and likely imprisoned. In fact, because it *was* Mav and Ice sharing a wall in their base housing duplex was probably the only reason the couple felt safe enough to make any noise in the first place.

Still. It was one thing that their friends had a feeling of safety knowing they would never be turned in, it was becoming clear there was also ... a level of shamelessness going on next door.

Mav knuckled the gritty feeling of fatigue out of his eyes, "What I don't understand is ... how do they even have the energy? We're logging four hours in the cockpit and six in the classroom during this new certification session, and I think Jester has become even more sadistic in his teaching since we graduated from Top Gun. I can barely make it through the evening news at the end of the day, let alone want to do..."

He paused, and then they both heard the enthusiastic beat of a bed frame from next door, and the loud tempo of 'Oh god, oh fuck' soundtrack. "That."

"Are you admitting to a lack of stamina, Mitchell?" Ice smirked, his usual cool expression curving into an even more familiar expression of mocking Mav. At least now, there was only humor in Ice's blue eyes instead of the dislike from when they first met.

"What?! No, there's nothing wrong with my stamina; I have zero complaints about that. I'm just saying... those idiots have been together for years, how are they still... like that?"

This time Ice looked away, taking a long slow draw from his beer. The oven light and microwave clock hid most of the details, but Mav knew him pretty well now, he could sense the discomfort in the question. "I wouldn't know. My longest relationship lasted through the holiday break during the Academy."

"Are we talking two days of Christmas or the eight nights of Hanukkah?"

"The former...and believe me, my mother despairs of me."

Mav laughed and held out his beer to clink against Ice's in solidarity over their sad love lives. "Well, you beat me. My streak is six weeks, give or take." 

He wasn't even sure if he could count the time between Hop 31 and getting cleared to fly again as time spent with Charlie, most of that was a blank in his memory of grief and intense accident investigation prep work. Top Gun was an 8-week combat school session, in between finally scoring a date with Charlie and getting dumped for the Washington job two weeks after the Layton rescue, six weeks was probably generous. Maybe he should count Penny instead, add up his assorted weekends with her after meeting her in flight school when her father was overseeing Pensacola. Four years, six weekends.

"I always beat you," Ice reminded him, annoying as always in his precision, with the memory of last year between them. 

Mav had no idea where the Top Gun trophy was, only that he was a little surprised that it wasn’t displayed prominently in their quarters, especially after Ice had found out who his roommate was at the beginning of the session. 

Actually a lot of Mav’s presumptions about Ice and what he would be like to live with had not come true. Neatness was a rule, but there were no white glove inspections of Mav’s room and only the drollest reminder to throw out the carryout containers after a few days, and they both agreed to keep the women at the O-Club. After all, the curriculum to qualify as a Top Gun instructor was difficult enough, without complicating it with a clingy boat chaser or pilot groupie that stalked the bars around Miramar. As it turned out, as straight-laced as Ice was in his job, he was surprisingly relaxed about the apartment. Mav had even expected some sort of judgment from Ice about his sparse civilian wardrobe or his cheap generic toiletries from the exchange, but there was nothing. 

Other than the old joke about who was the better pilot, Ice was a generous and easy-going roommate. Most of the time he put up a token protest about Ice’s winning streak (1 out 1 in competitions) but he was too tired to argue tonight. 

Instead, he flashed a smile at Ice, letting his shit-eating grin say everything for him. Ice rolled his eyes in turn, but maybe he was tired too, allowing the subject to drop without a further jibe.

The thumps and sounds were slowly winding down, and Maverick picked up their empty bottles to take to the trash. He yawned, and gestured to the side where Wolf and Hollywood were staying, “I do appreciate that they feel safe here, what I don’t appreciate is the timing of it. I almost yawned in Viper’s face during the flight log review today because of them.”

Ice’s eyes crinkled at the admission, but he was kind enough not to laugh at least. He put the rest of the six pack back in the fridge and then wiped the table down with a papertowel, leaving the kitchen pristine again. “I agree. Their timing could be better, or at least quieter, and I guess I’m only a little jealous of them.”

“Why, because they’re getting laid?”

“No,” Ice drawled, without an eyeroll this time, “because they found each other. I might not have had a long-term relationship before, but I’m not opposed to the idea. Wood and Wolf, while I know they have to hide their relationship, at least they can talk about their jobs without boring the other person, or worse, spending the evening explaining acronyms. That kinda sounds nice to me.”

Then it had to be a trick of shadow, or the thin draperies by the window, but Mav suddenly had the impression that Ice was *blushing* after that confession. His mind spun over the possibilities, was that something that his wingman was interested in, and with whom, only a few people could possibly check that narrow set of boxes. Certainly not any of the women at the O-Club, unless Ice had his eye on someone Mav didn’t know. Pensacola had been graduating women for at least ten years, though not many in fixed-wing operations. He shook his head, deciding that he must have imagined that. Iceman was way too controlled to blush. 

He realized he was staring just then, and was standing too close to Ice in the dimly lit kitchen. Rushing to cover for his shameful preoccupation, Mav rubbed the back of his head and scoffed. “Yeah, sure it sounds nice, but I can’t really imagine it being realistic. At least not for me.” 

Ice said nothing in response, not even to make fun of Mav, he just brushed past him to leave the kitchen. The quiet in their apartment had been restored, it was time to attempt sleep again. 

As Mav waited to fall back asleep he realized that another presumption that he had about Ice had fallen completely flat. Ice might have been robotic in his flying at time, but the man was also a secret romantic. 

*

Two nights later it happened again. The thin walls transcribe nearly every movement and every breathless gasp from Wolfman and Hollywood.

Mav sat up in bed with a loud groan of annoyance as the ‘Oh oh, yes!’ chorus started up again. His textbook that he had fallen asleep reading slipped off his lap onto the floor with a loud thump, and then he crashed into his nightstand after overbalancing in his attempt to reach it. The nightstand hit the wall, and Mav yelped loudly in pain.

There was a pause and a giggle from the shared wall and then a loud shushing noise.

He rubbed his elbow, retrieving the textbook from the floor. Thank god blessed silence, Mav thought as the quiet extended past a few minutes, before pushing up from the floor to crawl back in bed.

Except the respite was brief, and the rocking movements of the headboard.

Mav groaned again, even more annoyed by them now. 

There was another spell of quiet, and suddenly, he realized what was going on. Wolf and Wood were listening to him. “Oh you fucking pervs,” Mav whispered to himself, and then shrugged. Maybe it was time for them to get a taste of their own medicine. He got on his knees and grabbed the plain headboard with one hand, then started to rock his hips in motion until the mattress squeaked in time with his efforts.

Boom, boom, boom, he knocked the headboard into the wall, while the mattress made obliging sounds with it. Mav pinched his thumb between the wall and the bed, pulling a loud cry of pain from his lips. Despite the circumstances that gave him an idea, it was the sound that was missing from his production. He moaned and cried loudly, until his muscles started to burn with the exertion.

Had it been long enough? How long did he have to do this? He didn’t want to be teased for being an early finisher if he quit too early-

Out of caution, Mav gave a few more minutes of his best performance without laughing, then he let out a satisfied whimper for his audience. 

It was silent next door. Maybe they were both voyeurs and got off to the noise and idea of someone else getting laid. Whatever the reason, Mav laid flat on his bed and fell asleep quickly in the renewed quiet. His last thought was smug, he had silenced the neighbors in half of the time and all it cost him was a bruised thumb.

* 

The next day was strange. It was Friday, and Mav woke up with a smile on his face. The class had an early morning test before they were all dismissed for the weekend, practically a three day holiday. He had studied the night before thoroughly and felt prepared, his sleep had only been disturbed briefly thanks to his ingenuity, and the weather was beautiful, perfect for an afternoon at the beach. Everything was coming up aces for him.

Except for one thing. Well, one person. Ice.

Never a chatty person in the morning without caffeine, Ice was downright monosyllabic on Friday. He nodded to Mav in the kitchen, taking his coffee back to his room with a brief return of Mav’s greeting of ‘Good morning’ and then he left for class before Mav was dressed from his shower, instead of sharing the walk to the hanger with him. 

Hollywood and Wolf on the other hand were all smiles and jokes that morning, elbowing each other and laughing whenever Mav came near them. He had chocked their behavior up to being a pair of immature pervs, even if they were madly in love with each other, and he had dismissed it completely. 

Ice’s behavior was a little harder to puzzle out.

His uniform was perfectly pressed, and his gold pen was still in his hand while they waited for the test to be passed out to the class. No sign of the lazy, hypnotic twirl that Ice was prone to do. It was as if every inch of him was locked down and under complete control. A complete 1-180 from how they first encountered each other. It was then that Mav realized that the pen-flipping and gum chewing were all signs of Ice being comfortable and at ease with his environment, and why wouldn’t he had been during TOPGUN, his skills had him in first place on day one, and everyone else had to play catch up, Mav included. Not today. A statue had more warmth and movement than Ice did. Mav tried to catch his eye from across the room, but Ice seemed to be deeply interested in front of the classroom and never acknowledged Mav.

That was also new.

“This might be a short day, gentlemen, but this test will determine whether you have the proficiency to teach the theories of aerial combat to incoming Top Gun classes. I hope you all studied hard,” Jester said from the podium with the tests in hand.

Hollywood smothered a laugh after Wolfman kicked the back of his chair.

“Something to add, Lt. Neven?” 

“No sir, we all studied hard. Some of us went at it a little harder than others last night,” Hollywood answered, almost respectfully. Mav noticed that Ice’s shoulders seemed to tighten and a red flush was spreading over Ice’s ear as he stared straight ahead completely stone-faced. The rest of the room was used to Hollywood running his mouth, nearly everyone rolled their eyes at the innuendo.

Mav had the strange feeling that he was missing something. Ice’s knuckles were white where he clutched his pen when just the other day that type of remark would have had him trading long-suffering looks with Mav. They knew better than anyone what Hollywood was referring to as the unlucky neighbors. However his musings were cut off by the appearance of the test. There would be time to figure out his wingman later, Mav reasoned, first he needed to make sure he didn’t wash out of the training program because of a stupid written exam.

The previous hard work the night before in studying was at least well rewarded. He confidently wrote in the answers to the open-ended questions and circled the appropriate bubbles during the multiple choice sections, hardly needing to pause to remember the correct information. Mav had to hide a smile as he reached the end of the exam, and noticed that Viper had updated the scenario with the MiG and inverted tanks. Finishing the test with a flourish, Mav stood at almost the same time as Ice did, both of them were the first to turn in their exams. 

He rushed to the front of the classroom, mostly with grace and slapped down his test in front of Jester with a smug celebration for being the first. Jester raised his eyebrows at the display, and placed the completed test to the side with an exaggerated gesture of patience. Mav turned his head to see if Ice was bothered by finishing second, only to watch him walk slowly and unhurriedly to the front, seemingly without a care. 

Like Mav was the only one who was competing. Like Mav wasn’t even worth competing with.

He was definitely missing *something* when it came to Ice. Well, as a pilot, Mav was well-trained in the dogged-pursuit of a bogie; putting his wingman in his sights was easy. Target acquired time to move in for the easy kill.

Or at least it should have been easy. Mav waited just outside of the classroom doors for Ice. 

Ice took one step out of the hanger, then caught sight of him, he then made a text-book perfect dress-right move away from him in an obvious attempt at avoidance. Ice must have been in charge of drill formations for his brigade at the academy, Mav mused to himself before jogging to catch up to match Ice’s long strides down toward the housing block. Something was definitely up with him.

Deciding to start with the obvious, Mav fell breathlessly in step with him, “Hey, so how do you think you did on the test? Not as bad as we thought, right?”

“Fine,” Ice gritted out without looking over at him.

“Just fine? I think I aced it,” Mav continued, undeterred by the short response. “Did you see the question about the inverted tanks? I feel like perhaps my name should have been cited as a resource there, since it was my intel from the Enterprise-”  he paused to see if Ice reacted to that, and was met with a clenched jaw but nothing else. “I guess we will find out on Monday if they wash any of us out for being too stupid to teach here. It’s not like the ASVAB where you get thirty points for spelling your name right, although yours was probably a challenge, Kazansky.”

“Right.”

There was no way that Ice was worried about failing out of the program, Mav thought, but maybe he was wrong about that. It was barely ten am, and there was almost three days before the results would be ready, maybe what Ice needed was a distraction. 

“Listen, it’s early enough, why don’t we hit the beach, scout out the best location before the rest of our class finishes up. Maybe it’s time for another rematch in volleyball,-”

“No, thank you,” Ice replied firmly.

The response was polite on the surface, but completely cold. Mav blinked, and realized that they were back at their shared quarters. Instead of moving toward his bedroom to remove his uniform for the long weekend, Ice was packing a slim carrying case with his textbooks and notes. His movements were smooth and unhurried under Mav’s stare, as if Mav wasn’t even there in the room with him.

He had tried subtle, but that had rarely worked for him, so Mav got straight to the point. “Is something wrong?” 

Ice didn’t pause after zipping the case up, even though his hands flexed on the supple leather. “No, nothing is wrong.”

“Are you sure? Because if I pissed you off, it wasn’t deliberate-”

Ice straightened, holding the case in his right hand. He was still the consummate officer, his left hand was free to salute, as he flicked his gaze over to Maverick for the first time all day. Up and down, without a hint of his thoughts on his face as Mav shifted anxiously under it. Whatever he saw on Mav, it must not have been interesting as he executed another precise pivot away from Mav. “You didn’t, I just don't have time for you right now, Mitchell.”

Dismissed. 

Mav thought about what Goose had said during that first night at the O-Club about Ice, “he wears you down, you get bored, frustrated, do something stupid and he's got ya-” somehow without Mav becoming aware of it, Ice had gotten lock on him and had fired, echoing the words of disinterested foster parents and bored peers who hadn’t cared to hear his teenage-mouth runoff about planes and the Navy in that dead end town.

Ice had his back to him thankfully for Mav’s ego, he was too intent on leaving the small duplex and missed the devastation left in his wake, calling out a belated, “Later, Mitchell,” over his shoulder. 

Still precise and polite, even after leaving a knife inside Mav. 

*

Time played games with Mav after that, slipping away in hours before lingering painfully over the last few minutes with Ice. He was somewhat aware of movement outside the door, a knock and call from Wolfman, some offer about the beach, but it felt unimportant to Mav. One thing was clear, he had not imagined the tension in Ice that morning and then the sudden dismissal after the test solidified that into fact. 

He had done something wrong, something that had killed the blossoming friendship between them after the Layton rescue. He had no idea what it could be, but he was a little too familiar with this type of confusion after having experienced it before as a kid. He remembered how it went back then, foster parents that were excited to welcome a son into their family, with wide smiles and effusive hugs always seemed to slip into cold, disapproving strangers because of something Mav had done.

There was even a particular look they would get after making the decision to return him to foster care, but before the social worker could find the next placement. With the brief return of the wide empty smiles, everyone would act nice, but behind it was the peace of knowing it would be just temporary and he would soon be someone else’s problem. 

Ice had found his limit with him; apparently, he was now cooly polite to Mav and obviously avoiding him. Maybe he had reached his own decision about Mav, there was no social worker for Ice to call to pick Mav up, but there were transfer orders and reassignments instead. 

He’s waiting to finish the teaching certification and then he’ll be headed back to sea, away from Miramar, Mav realized dully. They would finish the program qualified to be instructors, but not together. Somewhere along the line after Ice had signed up for the class with him, he had pictured sharing an office with him at Top Gun, taking up new pilots and bickering over paperwork, turning that bond they had from the Indian Ocean into something… more. 

Mav had never felt more stupid in his life, he suddenly understood why his stomach had clenched when Ice had confessed being a little jealous of Hollywood and Wolfman having found each other. “I might not have had a long-term relationship before, but I’m not opposed to the idea.” He was jealous, because he now realized that he wanted that too, with Ice. 

He swallowed the sour taste in his mouth and stood up from their couch, suddenly aware that hours had passed and he had done nothing to fix whatever he had done to piss Ice off. The key to convincing someone to keep him around had always revolved around being useful to them. He had learned early on that certain home placements had lasted longer when he accepted the bulk of household chores, then later on, he had ensnared Nick Bradshaw’s lifelong friendship when he had volunteered for newborn diaper duty with baby Bradley. Hell, even Charlie had hung around for his knowledge of the MiG, which was all very useful to her career prospects in Washington. 

Now how could he be useful to Ice, and make up for whatever he did to alienate the other man?

The quarters they shared were still neat, as per Ice’s original request but maybe he also meant he wanted them to be clean? That he could do.

*

It was almost eleven when Mav heard the key scrape in the lock that signaled Ice’s return. 

He kept his attention on the baseball game, long since placed on mute after the sound of the announcers had started to scrape over his anxiety. Ice flipped on the lights, causing him to blink owlishly at the brightness, his eyes having long since grown used to the dim light of the television.

“Sorry,” Ice apologized, still polite and courteous. “I didn’t think you’d be back.”

Mav glanced over at him before returning his attention to the game, even though he had no idea how his team was up by four. That confirmed another suspicion, Ice had stayed away until now because he wanted to avoid him. He hated it when his suspicions were proven correct. “Never left.”

He could see out of his periphery that his admission seemed to halt Ice in his tracks to the kitchen. It was just temporary, he recovered and continued to the small alcove to retrieve a beer from the fridge after placing his leather case on the small card table that masqueraded as a kitchen table. The sounds were familiar to Mav, the hiss of the refrigerator door, the snap of the bottle cap, the careful clink of Ice throwing the cap away in the trash, instead of tossing it carelessly like the rest of their class.

It all sounded normal, except for the bounds of tension that were looped around his chest. 

A ball was hit to the outfield, and Mav watched as it arched higher and higher over the desperate reach of a desperate center fielder. He blinked, realizing belatedly that his team had allowed the opponent to tie up the game. It was the bottom of the ninth, if his team held it they would have another shot at winning, but if they slipped it was all over. That, at least, felt familiar to Mav. 

“You cleaned,” Ice said, stating the obvious with a small wrinkle of confusion on his face as he took a seat next to Mav on the couch. His blue eyes scanned the room, noting each small change, like the rug was freshly beaten, the wood floors swept, the scent of lemon oil in the air. 

Mav pulled his attention away from the game and tried to read his expression, looking for some sign of approval or disapproval. Damnit, he was twenty-five years old, and somehow he had found a time portal back to 1973, eleven years old and wondering if he had cleaned the house well enough to avoid being sent back. For the first time since Ice had brushed him off, he felt the lick of anger at himself for being this weak. 

“I did.”

#icemav #WIP update #topgun #top gun 1986 #misunderstandings #something to tide you over during this difficult time #when will ao3 return from the war

[be-my-ally]

Caught in a Trap

This has been a WIP since…. January? It predates my Tumblr anyhow - the concept is, uh, ridiculous, a cheesy rom-comesque situation. But for some reason, I just love having pretend arguments with Elvis - it’s honestly one of my go-to scenarios. Then, this prompt came along and I thought, huh, I’m pretty sure this would work with this, so I dug it out from the depths of my files and here we are xx 

prompt fill: “How are we going to solve this problem?”

pairing: Elvis (1961/2) / fem!Reader 

warnings: 18+, kind of manipulative!elvis, accusations of cheating, fake date, kissing, the suggestion of oral sex… but nothing actually pictured (honestly …. this is because i feel like all i’ve done recently is write the exact same description of it …. so if anyone wants to send me those time machine instructions so i can get some more inspo that would be *great*) . fictional member of the entourage as like a billy-esque person, but just a teeny bit older. Jerry hanging around when he may not have been - i’m envisioning he just popped over for something rather than working for e in this one but that may just be bc i wrote him into it and need an excuse for him to be there.

summary: essentially an alternative, younger, take of the older, sexier ‘We can’t go on together’ - Confronting Elvis about his casual kissing and the aftermath of being told ‘sure, its fine if you want to find someone else to take you out’ - spoiler…. It’s not fine. 

wc: 4.4k

as always for the dolls @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @thatbanditqueen @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain

It’s difficult, having these conversations with him, they somehow always turn accusing - both of you slinging accusations at one another. But you can’t keep watching him go on as he is, can’t keep watching from the sidelines where he’s ensconced you between the walls of Graceland. It’s painful at best, humiliating at worst, watching him with his hands on the necks of other girls, kissing their cheeks - or god forbid their lips at the gates, in the car. Wherever he happens to be. He’s always liked girls, chased after them ever since he was old enough to want to and he didn’t often see much harm in chasing now either. Maybe you would see less harm yourself, in his careless affection for his fans,  if you felt like he was putting in enough effort to you - that you weren’t just being taken advantage of. But as much as you struggle through, logically knowing he loves you, it doesn’t really feel like it at the moment. It comes to a head one evening when he stalks through the front door, furious that you’d leapt from the car and stormed up to the house when he was “just talking! I was just talkin’ to her! What did you want me to do!”

You’d awkwardly stood there in the foyer, chest heaving with your emotions but uncertain what was best to say, when he’d continued his rant; 

“Oh naw, C’mon now, you wanna have it out, let’s have it out. C’mon, what’s the problem?” You sigh, 

“Noth-” He huffs at you, crossing his arms, his reddish-brown suit crinkling with the motion, as if telling you he knows that’s a lie. “Ok, fine. I don’t see why you always gotta let ‘em be all over you.” That’s barely the half of it, but no good ever comes from these arguments with him. 

“They’ve been waiting out there for hours, it’s the least I could do!” He shakes his head, “No, this has gotta be more than just some lil jealous thing, so go on - what’s wrong, I’ve not been treatin’ you enough?” You flinch as if you’ve been slapped, its a mean accusation and he knows it; the implication that’s all you’re there for, as if you hadn’t been there before; hadn’t waited with barely a phone call a week for two years for him to come home. Despite your best efforts you can feel your eyes filling with tears, though you attempt to furiously blink them away, knowing he hates it. He sighs, “Nah, I’m sorry baby, that wasn’t, that wasn’t fair, what is it?” He grabs your arm, slinking around so that he’s cupping you against his chest, “C’mon no need for that, what is it botherin’ you?” It’s almost comical, the degree to which he is in denial about his own affinity for being the problem, but you’ve already had enough of the discussion and just want it to be over now. So you clutch at straws, mind grabbing the first thing that he might find as an acceptable reason for your poor mood; 

“Elvie - Baby, I just, I never get to go out anymore.” He huffs again, pulling back a little so he can look down at you, he rolls his eyes, as if he’s about to disagree before he looks to the side, deflating a little. 

“No, you’re right. It’s not fair to you - pretty young dolls should be taken out every night of the damn week,” You frown, you’re barely two years younger than he is, “but baby, I gotta, gotta work, I’m just so goddamn busy at the moment sweetheart, I can’t just, I just don’t have the time.” You pout at him, understanding but still unhappy. He pulls you around to sit down, sitting beside you, your thighs touching. 

It hadn’t been a total lie; you weren’t happy about the evenings sat waiting at home, just hoping tonight would be the night he shows up when he said he would. He stares out the window a moment, clearly thinking. He meets your eyes, holding your gaze for so long that you feel like you have to look away before saying, “Well gee honey,” his tone full of faux nonchalance, “maybe, uh, maybe you can go on dates if you wanna. Find someone to take you out when I can’t. Just…just as long as you’re being good on ‘em. Real good, mama, you hear me?” You’re a little confused what’s being proposed but you hurriedly nod all the same, “I don’t wanna hear about your mouth bein’ places it shouldn’t.” You’re quick to agree, 

“Of course, it’s more, I just want the company El, I still don’t have many girlfriends here in Memphis now, but I don’t wanna be kissing anyone but you.” He pats your leg, nodding almost magnanimously, clearly pleased at his generosity of the suggestion, 

“Well then sure, honey, go and have fun. Actually, that’ll solve my problem with the Colonel too.” 

So with that permission, when two weeks later one of the boys - Tommy, approached you and asked timidly if you wanted to go out with him that night, “I-uh know you’re with Elvis, but I know you have a, uh, agreement of sorts, and I’d uh love to spend the evening with you doll.” You had gladly agreed. Elvis wasn’t even going to be home, and he had said you could go out; who better than one of his boys? 

You’re surprised, in the late evening, how good of a time you’re having, even as you can’t help but compare; Elvis would have opened that door for you. Elvis would have had a bouquet in his hand, if not something more extravagant. Elvis would have sat on the same side of the table as you. Elvis wouldn’t have flinched away when your elbows touched. Still, for being with someone who wasn’t Elvis you were having a nice enough time and it was fun to spend some time acting your age again. Being normal. It wasn’t necessarily something you’d want to do super often but both you and Tommy were aware your heart was elsewhere and so you didn’t have to worry about letting him down, and he made sure you were both still having a good time. It was honestly just nice to be out, and not accosted while doing so. You’re sucking up the last of your milkshake, well aware the date is going nowhere and therefore not ashamed to noisily suck up the dregs, the loud noise making Tommy chuckle. 

“You know doll - when EP suggested this I thought he’d gone insane, but I’ve had a good time tonight.” The pet name flowed off of his tongue as easily as it seemed to in all of Elvis’ southern entourage but you can’t help but wince internally a tiny bit at his usage. However, you’re immediately distracted by the rest of his sentence, the last of the milkshake turning to what felt like pure ice running through your throat to your tummy, 

“Sorry, did you just say… Elvis suggested this?” Tommy suddenly looks a little bashful, eyes wide,   

“Uh - yeah, I thought…he said he thought the press would stop hounding you so much if uh - you looked unattached from him? Said people were starting to guess you were uhhh goin’ steady stead of just seein’ him. So he told me to take you out - dinner and a movie, make sure we were seen and uhhh…. told me I could do whatever you asked….you know keepin’ up ‘ppearances but to keep my hands to myself.” You’re stunned, and feel so, so very stupid. You’d honestly thought he liked you, at the very least as a friend, and while you had had no intention of it being anything but an evening that might make Elvis jealous you still had liked the attention.  

“…sorry, are you saying that you were paid to go on this date with me?”

“Uhhh look, I thought you knew! I thought it was a joint thing, and I uh wasn’t paid anything more than I norm-lly would for an evening’s work. Ain’t like I took much persuadin’ - you’re a pretty girl!” Well there was that at least. “I didn’t meanta offend ya or anythin.” he sounds sincere, and while you’re still shaken by this revelation your brain is running through scenarios that may make the evening still worthwhile. You smooth your features, and smile up at him glancing at him under your eyelashes 

“Well-there’s one way you can make it up to me.” It’s like he can tell where your mind has gone and he looks sideways nervously, 

“Uh, well see here though doll, Elvis… he’ll kill me. He’ll kill me dead.” You let out a little, fake, giggle. 

“Oh no it’s just a game -  he’s just foolin with you, the silly goose.” You worry you might be laying it on a bit thick but he definitely is starting to relax. “Look, I uh, don’t think he’d be thrilled to see anything in the papers but look, if you let Jerry catch us in the caddy; I’ll double whatever Elvis was gonna pay you…” He still looks uncertain, and you panic for a second before you get a sudden flash of inspiration - “And I’ll make sure he doesn’t go mad at you.” He still looks worried but is clearly on the fence, “… and I’ll put in a good word with Jackie for you.” His face lights up. Jackpot. 

It’s awkward as you drive back, both of you preparing for it, he clearly wants to know why on earth you seem to have lost your mind but is evidently too afraid to ask. And you’re spending the time wondering the exact same thing, but, at the end of the day… Elvis can only be so mad, right? He does basically the same thing all the time. When he pulls into the spot designated for the car, you turn to him - there needs to be ground rules. 

“Ok. Hands above my waist. At all times.” He nods, eyes wide, “Ok, ok this’ll be fine. Just a kiss - a regular kiss, no tongue or anything.” He nods again, rapidly, like the fear is subsiding somewhat and he can’t quite believe his luck. 

You don’t have to wait long, you’d timed it almost perfectly for when you knew Jerry would be heading out to meet his current girl. You can see him stand there and put his hand up to his forehead, attempting to block your headlights which you’d ‘accidentally’ bumped on when he started to walk up.“Ok,” You look over at Tommy, inching across the seat, “Ok, quick before he goes,” You don’t allow it to go on for very long, but certainly long enough and it’s only shortly after when you pull away, acting as if you were in a daze; quickly flicking off the lights and killing the power entirely. When you glance up again, Jerry’s gone.

‘Shit.’ You think, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. It was one thing to give a performative kiss, for a reason -  to a fan begging for it, but quite another to have potentially done so without an audience. It makes you feel strangely guilty about the whole evening. You thank Tommy again, making it clear it’s time for him to leave; he gets out when you do and starts to heads towards the house but before he’s taken three steps you’re calling back to him,  “Uh Tommy, just in case - unless he sends for you, I’d probably lay low until I have a chance to speak to him.”  He looks back at you and nods. Despite your assurances (and his clear desire to go out with Jackie) you can tell he was still apprehensive about facing Elvis. He changes the direction he was heading in, instead heading for the back entrance - clearly about to go and find some of the other boys to hang out with - or maybe bum a lift home from one of them, while you get out of your car, smooth your dress and hair and head for the front door. 

You walk in, expecting pretty much a party since it was the right time of night for that to be happening and hear nothing but Elvis at the piano; your stomach plummets, it’s rare he’s home at this time, and even rarer that he’s clearly alone - you feel even guiltier about what you’ve done. He’d clearly wanted you to have him to come home to, no doubt knowing you’d choose him over anyone. You head straight for the music room tucked in the corner of the foyer and see him sat there, mindlessly playing humming along but looking out the window. 

“Hi Honey,” You go to greet him with a kiss, but he turns to face you and you realise you’ve severely miscalculated; 

“Hi Honey” he mocks you in a high pitched tone, it deepens as he continues to stare directly at you, “Jerry just called me from the car. He had some mighty interestin’ gossip to tell me.” He pats the bench “why dontcha sit down and let me share it with you.” You look around nervously but he really has cleared the place out and there’s no one to excuse yourself with, nor can you think of any good reason to refuse him, so you do as he demands. You hope Tommy had headed back out himself. You try to keep your face expressionless forcibly relaxing your jaw, anxious not to let Elvis know you’re worried; how’re you the one who’s feeling so nervous? Although you’d expected some reaction you hadn’t expected to have to face up to the consequences so soon. Despite everything telling you not to, you sit close to him, thighs touching. You’d normally hook an ankle around his, but that’s a step too far today. His fingers play a little tune while you wait for him to talk. 

“You steppin’ out on me baby?” His tone is level, in a way that says his anger has gone past hot temper and straight into cold fury. If he wasn’t so enraged you might find him amusing, sounding a bit like a petulant little boy pretending to be a man. You look over at him, suddenly furious that he, who orchestrated this whole evening, might take offence that you took part in it.

“If I was it’s because you arranged it.” He hits a flat note. 

“Because you asked me to.” He’s got an edge of a condescending tone about him, and he talks slowly, like he’s spelling something out for you. “You told me I never take you out anymore and you’d find someone who would. I found someone for you. Thought you’d be happy.” He shrugs. 

“So….what exactly is the problem here then?” Your tone is less than polite, but you had expected him to rage at you and his opposite reaction has unnerved you. You go to stand up, exhausted already at the argument that he appears to be ready to have again. It wasn’t how you’d expected this to go - you thought he’d apologise, make up, move on; although you should know by now that he rarely, if ever, apologises for anything. As you round the corner by him, his hand whips out and he grabs your wrist, 

“I ain’t done talking to you yet little girl.” You have no choice but to pause where you are, 

“I don’t see what’s left to talk about - I did what I said I was going to do, and you arranged it. Did you want me to say thank you? Thank you for insulting me like that?” 

He looks over at you and he’s talking fast, lowly like he wants to get his point across as quickly as possible. His head dipping to look up at you from under his eyelashes, his hand that wasn’t clutching you gesturing with his speech; 

“N-ow baby, I didn’t have an issue with you bein’ taken out, you’re right I probably don’t spend enough time treatin’ you to all that … although I think you get enough treats. But….Jerry’s just told me there was somethin’ else goin’ on. That’s different from bein’ taken out to dinner baby,” his eyes flash, and he looks you dead in your own, and despite how awkward you feel you can’t look away, his accent growing stronger as his emotions get the better of him; “that’s you steppin out o’line, steppin’ out on me. How are we gonna solve this problem?”

He’s still got a hold of your wrist and he’s holding onto it so tightly, you’re positive it’ll bruise if he holds on much longer. His eyes are burning as he looks over at you, and you can’t help but let yours fill with tears. He shakes his head and wiggles your arm, 

“No. Darlin’ don’t you start with them crocodile tears until we got this all straightened out.” He tugs you to stand in front of him as he swivels to sit sideways on the bench. As you try to swallow your tears indignation rises within you; 

“You’re not being fair. You step out on me all the damn time El. Lord above, I’m surprised if you’re not out more than you’re in.” He frowns, “and more than that, you arranged it all tonight! manoeuvred me about just how you wanted! How did you expect me to react Elvis? Of course I wanted to get back at you. Give you a little taste of how I feel all the goddamn time.”

“Baby,” His tone as if he’s talking to a child, “I’ve told you before - it’s different for me I’ve -“

‘I swear to god E, if you say you’ve got needs one more fucking time, we’re through and I really mean it this time.” He sucks in a breath, like despite all he’s done he didn’t expect the ultimatum, and usually you’d expect it to annoy him further - for him to tell you fine, go then. But he doesn’t, instead he looks down, suddenly forlorn as if you’ve knocked the wind from his sails. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say doll, I can’t bear the thought of you with someone else.” He’s still looking down, at your feet, like a little boy being told off. You hate how it immediately endears him to you again, how you’re immediately thinking of ways you could make him feel better. 

“Well why should I have to bear it with you?”

He looks sideways, “It’s ju-just,” he’s clearly nervous and he stutters through the next, “baby I have spoken to the Colonel ‘bout all this, d-d- don’t think I haven’t, he just ain’t keen on me having a girl at the moment. I don’t see how you can come with me everywhere and it not be clear we’re together.” You shake your arm where it’s still in his grip, forcing him to look at you. 

“Well El- are we together? Because there’s puttin’ on a show for whatever reason and then there’s sneakin’ girls back when no-ones looking.” Your own accent is coming out stronger as you get louder. 

“There ain’t no other girls darling,” he sighs, “I dunno how many times I’ve gotta tell you that.” 

“That’s just not true, if it was we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place.” He shakes his head, hair starting to come out of its coiffed position with the force of it,

“I swear baby you’re the only girl for me.” You nod, and step forward to put your hands on either side of his face. He leans into them, eyelashes fluttering unconsciously. 

“I know you think that when I’m here, but what about when I’m not?” 

“I-I don’t know how you’re turning this onto me doll, when you’re the one kissin’ someone else tonight. I’ve been here on my lonesome waiting for you to come home.” You laugh, squeezing his cheeks causing his lips to pucker as he talks, 

“Elvis. That’s my life every night.” He frowns. 

“Darling, they don’t mean nothing though! I swear it’s just for show! I haven’t had another girl in any way that matters since I met you baby.” You frown back at him, that wasn’t what you’d heard, and ‘not in any way that matters’ doesn’t mean not at all but his earnest expression, with his eyes wide, seems desperate for you to believe him. “Please baby, you hafta believe me.” He pleads, and you can feel yourself slipping, 

“Hmmm. Well….if you say so.” You shrug, about to pull away to take a breath and attempt to regain your thoughts without his eyes imploring you.  He stands, wrapping his arms around your midriff, with a little wiggle before you can get any further away. A hand travels up to your neck, almost feeling like he’s scruffing you, but his thumb rubs over a pressure point and you can feel the tension in your shoulders ease with each gentle stroke of his finger. 

“I swear, mama.” You look up at him, his lips parted - blue eyes earnest, for once not clouded by eyeliner or make-up, “I swear, I- I uh like the attention but I mean I’m a hot blooded man, I can’t turn that off baby, and if a girl’s gonna throw herself at me, I’m not gonna shove her away.” You frown, you’d been about to cave in to anything he said, but you’re hesitant again now - unsure what you’d be agreeing to if not, essentially, giving him permission to do whatever the hell he likes. His hand grips your hip tighter, as if he can sense he’s losing you. “No, c’mon baby, you know it makes sense - it’s, it don’t mean nothing, I swear it, I swear it on, on,” He looks around desperate for divine inspiration, “On my Mama’s grave I swear - you’re my girl.” You’re taken aback by that, it wasn’t something you’d ever heard him say before and Gladys’ name wasn’t ever brought up in any kind of jest. You can’t help but totally believe him. You duck your head, hating yourself a little for making him swear such a promise, 

“Oh no, Elvis, I only kissed him to get back at you - make you jealous.” He tucks your head against him, holding you close and shushes you, 

“I know sweet, I know. Bet he wasn’t even a good kisser was he? He’s just a boy, ain’t a man like you need.” You shake your head against his chest groaning a little at what you’re about to confess, playing in to his little pissing competition. 

“No…wasn’t good at all. Hadda….had to lead.” Elvis laughs, 

“Oh no, sweet little thing like you shouldn’t hafta be in charge. You oughta be taken care of.” He tips your head back and brushes your tears away with his thumbs. “No more tears mama,” and he kisses you, gently - twice on the mouth before moving to the side of your face. Butterfly kisses, before leading you by the hand over to the sofa, “Lemme take care of ya, doll.” 

He sits, legs parted and his hands grip your hips holding you in place before dragging you closer, it forces you to look down at him. Simultaneously making you feel a little small, and a little like a child, you thread your fingers through his hair, weaving the strands, stiff with gel and spray past your knuckles to tilt his head up. He smiles up at you, a little private half-smile, his eyes crinkling and you’re helpless to anything except leaning down to press a kiss against it. He takes the opportunity of the momentum of your leaning down to tug you onto his lap. Breaking your hold on his hair, and the touch of your lips on his. He takes a moment to situate you, tugging with a hand under your thigh to pull you ever closer to him. Once you’re firmly tucked against his side his other hand travels up your back to support your head, as if you needed it, gripping your neck, the other a heavy presence on your thigh. You shift, helplessly trapped by his hold on you - as if you’d even want to get away, unable to do anything but melt against his chest. 

You glance about, sure that the silence and solitude you had found him in was soon to be broken, and nervous about going any further if there was a threat of being interrupted. 

“Nah, baby, no-one’s around,” He leans forward, kissing your neck, “Let - “ he moves closer, to your cheek, murmuring against your skin, “me, make it up to you.” He whispered right against your lips. You sink into him completely, lips parting of their own accord, and he delves into them. It’s perfect, despite the slightly awkward angle, and you can’t help but sigh a little breath of relief at the feeling of it, so different from the gentle, chaste kiss in the car. Utterly perfect with his sharp nippy little teeth and darting tongue. He pulls you back, shifting you back but lower, until you’re pretty much horizontal on the sofa, pulling his hand out from under your neck to lay you down completely. He shifts, tumbling off, onto his knees. 

He pulls you around with a grip on your thighs before positioning you exactly how he wants, on your back, with your feet planted firmly down, legs spread. He tugs you closer to him, so that you’re almost coming off the couch yourself, pushing your legs apart further so that he could kneel between them. You aren’t sure about this. Not in, essentially, the very first room of the house - not, right by the front door.

“C’mon I’ll make you feel good doll, and then, then I’ll take ya upstairs and you can apologise real pretty to me too.” You frown, about to protest - to suggest, ‘hey how about we go straight upstairs now?’ when all thoughts are gone from your mind as he pushes your already bunched up dress further up and leans in, his breath hot against your panties. He’s … very good at this, and you’re under no illusions that by the time he’s half carrying you on wobbly legs up the stairs that you’ll have completely forgotten about any of those other girls, and by the time he’s placing you on your knees in front of him in the bedroom, that you’ll have totally forgiven him for any future transgressions as well. 

#writing prompt game #60s elvis x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis smut is probably a bit too far for what’s in this #so idk #light elvis smut #be-my-ally

[betweenlands]

[clears throat]

If you’ve recently watched one or more of Legundo’s 100 Days videos, you might have some questions – questions like what’s with all the eyes, who the heck is Decem, what’s an Alteran, how do I get involved in the ARG, why is there chess happening, can I get off Legundo’s wild ride yet, et cetera. This post seeks to answer most of those questions in as straightforward a manner as possible (can’t help with the last one, though – you’re stuck here now!), while also sticking as close as possible to only canon information in order for people to form their own theories. Basically, consider it a brief lore primer for everything 100 Days Multiverse!

But first, a few disclaimers:

This is gonna be a long post. It's going under a readmore. If readmores don't work for you I'm sorry.

This is copied from a WIP document of ours that attempts to record pretty much everything going on in the series, which necessarily means it will at some point become outdated. (Time check: this post was made on 10/14/2023. There are still at least 2 puzzles that haven't been solved yet.) If anything significant comes up I'll try to add it to the summary and therefore that document, but there isn't anything yet.

There will be a lot of “might”, “possibly”, “may or may not have”, “somewhat implied to”, and other various caveats throughout this post. We don’t have a lot of information explicitly stated to be canon at the moment, and while a lot of things seem like sure bets, there’s no telling how unreliable these narrators might be. We don’t like claiming things are canon unless we’re 100% sure that’s the truth, so there’s a lot of weasel words in this summary. You’ll have to forgive us for this one – we prefer to be precise over definitive whenever possible. (And we apologize for not having cited sources here -- if something's incorrect, please call us on it!)

Finally: there is a more official lore document! It contains more details on pretty much everything here, focuses more on puzzle-solving, and also contains a great theorycrafting section -- you can read that here (and thank you to Lucid for creating it!)

Okay. Enough preamble. Let's get into the thick of it.

Legundo has been traveling the multiverse for a while, hopping from modded world to modded world from where he left his S2 Hardcore world behind. He seems to have at least some amount of partial amnesia, as he starts to remember things about his past over time, but to begin with he doesn’t remember (or at least doesn’t seem to remember) where he came from.

Legundo is also not alone – he’s being followed. Strange monoliths appear in certain worlds, made of blackstone/gilded blackstone when “dormant” and obsidian/crying obsidian when “active”. He speaks to these at first as though they can help him, but gradually becomes more and more suspicious of them, and eventually comes to realize they are harbingers of a group of entities/entity called Decem.

Decem has a history with Legundo that unravels throughout the course of the series. They have several associated motifs in addition to the monoliths/crying obsidian – most notably among them are eyes (especially Dimensional Doors) and usage of chess terminology/general references to chess. They also have a custom musical leitmotif -- current link to it here. (You'll usually be able to hear this one or something similar playing around when he stumbles across a monolith, I'm pretty sure.)

Despite “Decem” meaning “ten”, there are actually nine entities in the group, called Aspects. Each Aspect is associated with a different color and has a different title:

the Warrior, red

the Seer, orange

the Historian, yellow

the Merchant, green

the Senator, cyan

the Philosopher, purple

the Noble, pink

the Scientist, grey

the Wizard, black

Members of Decem are prone to infighting and general disagreements on how to solve their problems, especially the problem of Legundo; apparently, at some point Legundo was a member of the group himself, called the Architect and by process of elimination associated with the color blue. Decem seem to want Legundo back, but also don’t seem to fully agree on what method of doing this will be best. Legundo is also not particularly happy about this, referring to his cycle of modded worldhopping as a sort of prison, but he doesn’t seem to remember much (if any) of his past as the Architect.

When the world download for Hardcore S2 was released, viewers were made aware of a new faction, called the Alterans, who appear to be in direct conflict with Decem. While Decem claim that the Alterans are trying to “hide the truth” from us, the Alterans imply that they view their conflict with Decem as a desperate bid for survival (though they do also refer to it as a game of chess). At some point, they did something “ridiculous” as of yet unclear; they also apparently hosted the amnesiac Legundo at some point. Apparently, they were largely against telling him anything about where he came from, although they did “leave him his name” despite it being supposedly risky. It’s unclear if they are the cause of Legundo’s amnesia and/or his leaving Decem, but they certainly don’t want him to remember anything more than he already has. (As of Undercover, it seems extremely likely they are at the very least the cause of the Architect’s fall.)

Decem has a tendency to speak directly to viewers of 100 Days Multiverse videos, especially when Legundo dies or when other glitches occur. When this happens, they tend to leave links to hidden videos/audio clips and/or puzzles that lead to these things. As of right now, they appear to be offering the viewers who have solved their puzzles some sort of job, and may also be showing up on the viewer SMP during its fifth season (the chronology of this is very unclear – see Undercover). It’s unclear what this position within Decem entails, although given their chess motif it’s probably not an unreasonable assumption to say that they are recruiting new pawns.

#100 days multiverse #100 days hardcore #legundo #100dmv #yt #txt #dominioners #orig #solar scraps #solar scrawls #woooh it feels good to just have this entire Chunk of text out here

[moonstrider9904]

Abundance

Part 2 of Bread and Tea

{series masterlist} {join my taglist} {ao3 link} {wattpad link}

Summary: Christmas Eve is in the air, as is the snow and the winter chill. You’re baking an apple pie before your cozy holiday festivities begin, and someone’s sneaking bites from the filling.

Tags/Warnings: No warnings, this is just pure fluff, soft!Crosshair, domestic Crosshair, baking, coziness, and my closest attempt at a Moonstrider Holiday Special lol

A/N: I made some apple pie in advance for Christmas Eve (I’m writing this on Dec. 23rd) and thought of this story idea. I was initially going to write a Moonlight series short story, but then I remembered I had this series among my WIPs and it felt so fitting and so right that I rushed up here to write it once all the baking was done. It’s self-indulgent as ever, so I hope you’ll enjoy some soft!Crosshair in a holiday setting. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and happy New Year!

Word count: 2k

The song that inspired this was Abundance by Chris Mazuera, because I love listening to this cozy song whenever I’m baking something. Enjoy!

A preheating oven was exactly what the cottage needed.

The fireplace was your most reliable friend in the winter when the cottage got chilly, but the oven was still unmatched, as if it were your very own secret weapon. Whether you needed comfort, warmth, or a food craving needed to be satisfied, it never failed you. The smell of the recently made apple filling, a combination of cinnamon and butter and sugar and maple syrup—your secret ingredient—alongside those ripe, honey crisp apples, blended with the scent of the oak wood crackling in the chimney.

It was like a symphony to you. It was like home.

You turned the stovetop off and let the apple filling rest on its pot, hopefully allowing it to cool down enough while you worked on the crust. You’d be kneading and folding and spreading dough for a while, all in your carefully figured out system that came after years and years of baking. Apple pie was more of a tradition than a recipe now, so much that you didn’t even need the cookbook handy anymore. You knew that recipe well-enough by heart now. So you let the filling rest and cool and you turned your back on it, now facing the kitchen island where your dough was sitting ready for you to work on it.

Dough work took up all of your concentration, or most of it at least. Usually, you still had some focus to spare on the rest of the world around you. You could hear the wind, the fireplace, you could even hear your man’s steps coming and going from the kitchen.

He said nothing, as he usually would. The words that his oldest brother had used to describe him when he first introduced you to him came to mind—not much of a conversationalist. That definitely held up until that very moment when you rolled out the main disk that would go on your pie pan. He would walk into the kitchen, and then the pacing would stop. He would remain still for a moment, completely silent, most likely watching you at work. Then, he would make his way back into the living room to sit by the fireplace.

And then, he would repeat that.

Your mind began to wander. Whenever Crosshair was curious about something you were doing, he would stand still and observe you the whole time, never really bothering to comment anything, just watching. But it felt odd to you that this time he seemed to come and go. Perhaps, given the observative nature of a former sniper, he’d also gotten the recipe for an apple pie down to every last detail. You’d baked it so many times in that cottage that he must have known it by now.

Your train of thought was broken by the sound of his steps returning to the kitchen. When you felt him stopping, you stopped rolling out the dough and looked over your shoulder, and you caught him in the act. When he felt you looking, Crosshair’s eyes landed on you, standing perfectly still, but it was already too late for him to retrieve his hand from the pot of apple pie filling, with a piece of spice and sugar coated apple clutched between his fingers.

“Gotcha,” you teased.

Still staring straight into your eyes, Crosshair took the piece of apple to his mouth and ate it.

You gasped dramatically. “Have you no shame?”

“You should take this as a compliment,” he said as he reached for another cube of apple. “It’s pretty good.”

“Don’t try to mask your antics with flattery,” you turned your body to fully face him “I have a pie to fill, and that’s gonna be hard if you keep eating that.”

Crosshair shot his signature smug grin at you, his eyes gleaming with the will to tease, as his hand slowly reached into the pie filling pot once more. His teeth bared slightly as he waited for your reaction.

Of course you were going to play along.

“Don’t you dare,” you raised a brow at him.

Crosshair inched his hand closer to the filling.

“I am warning you, Crosshair, do not touch one more piece of that filling,” you said as you took your wooden roller and pointed it at him like a makeshift sword.

“You dare point that thing at me?” Crosshair raised how brow at you.

“I’m the baker, and right now, this kitchen is my domain,” you said. “You have no power here.”

“Watch me,” he said as he snatched another piece of apple and ate it while looking you in the eyes.

You put the roller down and crossed your arms, faking annoyance. “You’re not getting any presents tomorrow.”

“You’re going to cave,” he mused as he began walking up to you. “You know why?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you began to turn around, reaching for the roller, but his hand was over yours before you could lift it from the counter top.

“Because you love it when I tease you,” Crosshair purred.

His soft grip on your hand made you let go of the roller again. His hands then made his way up to your shoulders, rubbing up and down as he felt the warm yarn of your gray sweater under his palms. “You’re soft.”

“You’re not sweetalking me,” you averted your gaze, still playing along in your role of unamused girlfriend.

“I believe I am,” Crosshair grinned as he noticed the reddish taint on your cheeks. “Hey?”

“Not listening,” you said, but a smile took over your lips as you suppressed a giggle.

“Hey,” Crosshair cooed again, his hands squeezing your arms as he leaned down and pressed his lips onto yours.

You could never resist Crosshair’s kisses. His lips on yours made all of your walls come down, and your arms went up around his neck while his arms traveled down around your waist, pressing your body closer to his. Crosshair pulled you up and made you stand on your toes, and he gave your body a tiny squeeze that made you giggle into the kiss. The sound was music to his ears, and he moaned into the kiss in that low, smooth voice that you loved so much.

“Mm,” you squirmed in his grip. “Cross, I have to finish the pie.”

As you talked, Crosshair kept smooching your cheeks and your jawline, hoping to draw more of those sweet giggles that he adored from you. Although he succeeded, he was then met by you gazing in his eyes with a blend of sweetness and firmness somehow only you could manage.

“That oven’s going to finish preheating any moment now,” you whispered.

Softly, Crosshair helped settle you down on your feet. “Mind if I watch?”

“Go ahead,” you grinned and turned around, taking your wooden tool to finish rolling out the dough.

Crosshair watched as you cut some strips of dough and set them apart for the lattice, some finer than others, and he watched as your fingers delicately took the time to put three of those strips together and form them into a braid long enough to go around the pie’s full circumference. Crosshair’s lips curved into a smile as he watched you, and though you couldn’t see his expression, you felt his arms wrapping tighter around you.

“You really do love this,” he whispered.

You smiled at his remark. “Yeah.”

When you finished up the braid of dough, you took a quick moment to count the strips of dough that you had and turned around in Crosshair’s arms, smiling softly at him. “I’m going to need that filling now.”

“Of course,” his eyes gleamed with mischief again.

“Cross,” you said.

Crosshair chuckled and went to get the filling from the stove for you. He handed it to you without having taken a single piece of apple, and you mouthed the words thank you when you took the pot from him. Crosshair went back to embracing you as you put the disk of rolled out dough onto the pie dish, delicately taking it and tucking it in so that it would rest perfectly along the dish’s shape, never pulling or tugging or doing anything that would suggest rushing the process.

You then took the filling and placed it within the dough, spoonful by spoonful. The scent of apple mixed with cinnamon and butter filled your nostrils, and unconsciously you hummed in delight at one of your favorite scents in the world. And while you basked in the joy that assembling the pie brought to you, Crosshair continued to watch as he enjoyed the warmth of having you close in his arms. He watched as you put the last couple of spoonfuls of filling into the pie and set the dishes aside, and he knew it was time for you to start building the lattice to finish it off.

The little gleam of mischief returned to Crosshair’s eyes once more, and even if you couldn’t see him as he hugged you from behind, you felt one of his hands lifting from your body only for you to see it reaching into the pie for another piece of apple. You then heard as Crosshair ate the softened, caramelized apple, and you couldn’t help but giggle. He reached in another two or three times—you were too amused to count—as you finished assembling the pie’s top, and even then, he reached into one of the gaps where he could reach for one last piece.

Crosshair got one more chance to admire the delicacy and care of your work when you put egg wash over the pie’s crust, and he only unwrapped his arms from around you when it was time to put the pie into the oven. You were careful when you placed it inside, feeling the heat around you, and when you closed the oven door and turned around, you were met with Crosshair smiling softly at you, a look that you loved with your soul and simply couldn’t see enough times.

“Come here,” Crosshair said so softly it was nearly a whisper.

Without hesitation, you walked into his arms and reached up to cup his cheeks while you kissed him. He kissed you back tenderly with one of his hands reaching to the back of your neck, entwining his fingers gently through your hair. But as much as Crosshair was enjoying the kiss, he parted from you to lead you over to the living room.

He took a seat on the couch in front of the fireplace, and you went over to sit leaning on him, but only after reaching for a blanket you could pull over you both. You leaned back and were engulfed by his warmth, feeling comforted by the fluffy blanket on top of you, and as you settled into the couch and heard the crackling of the fireplace, you felt Crosshair begin to play gently with your hair again.

“What are you thinking?” You asked him.

Crosshair hummed. “You’re happy.”

You smiled softly, and under the blanket, your hands found his to give them a squeeze.

“I’m happy here,” you said. “And I’m happy with you.”

“You never think of wanting more?” He asked.

You shifted in your place to look over your shoulder enough to look him in the eyes. “All that I love and value most in the world is right here, Crosshair. I’ve seen a world outside of this place, but ultimately this is where I want to be.”

Crosshair smiled and leaned in to give your temple a soft kiss. “Then here you’ll stay.”

You smiled and turned around again, settling your weight fully onto Crosshair and the couch beneath you, with his words echoing inside you as you took in the sounds around you—the wind, the fireplace, Crosshair’s breathing, the ticking of the timer set for your pie. That place you loved so much would be where you stayed.

And it would be where you always returned.

{Next chapter (coming soon!)} {Back to series masterlist}

Taglist: @zoeykallus @sageislostinspring @misogirl828 @dangerousstrawberrypie @salaminus @ladykatakuri @whore4rex @morganlefaye13 @nunanuggets

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Thank you so much for reading!

#moonstrider writes #tbb crosshair fluff #tbb au #tbb cottagecore au #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fluff #tbb fluff #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x you #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair x reader #crosshair #clone force 99 #bad batch crosshair

[geralts-yenn]

2023 character wrapped

@deandoesthingstome knows too well I get a little obsessive over some characters - let's see if I can make it to nine (or if I can stop at nine 😁 a look onto my masterlist that's barely a year old tells me we will get there)

Here we go...

My no 1: No surprise here - Mikey

He's my precious silly boy and I will never stop loving him. As part of a family of lunatics here or here, as our best friend, or as the cute neighbor who steals the heart of Nina and Mel

2. Melot

I blame @raccoon-eyed-rebel for introducing me to the slutty lil' braid boy. Just look at that grumpy, miserable little guy. I can't help but thinking about how to make him feel better. That's why he gets the love from not only one but two lovely persons in my Hearts Too Big universe. He's still not quite happy as a vampire in Believe in Me, but I swear we'll get to it.

3. Syverson

Not much of a surprise - how could I not love him? He's the character I read the most this year, for sure. But I also loved to write him into my bonfire story and it's follow up. I was yearning for him and I imagined him as a daddy 🥰

4. Evan

Oh, he was a surprise for me. Even though I liked his character in the movie, I didn't intend to write for him. Until a lovely nonnie put him into my brain and started to fuel my obsession with him here, here and here.

5. Walter

The grumpy bear was always a favorite of me when it came to reading but I was a little scared to write him by myself. In the end, I'm quite happy with the outcome when I finally dared.

6. August Walker

Another one that I love but didn't dare to write. Until it was too tempting to add him as the vampire king in Believe in Me. And then those little pieces of smut here and here with the vampire king were surprisingly easy to write.

7. Napoleon Solo

I love the smooth spy. I had so much fun to pair him up with the lovely Amina and I totally plan to get back to Leon sometime in the future

8. Charles

I wish I had more time to explore his character. I love him so much - especially when he's put into a modern AU. I kinda did this to him as my sidekick for Melot. And I have a wip in my folders, sleeping for way too long, where he's the most annoying and yet adorable duke. I really hope I get to the point where I can introduce him to you.

That's everyone I have written for this year. But I surely don't stop here with obsessing

I won't count Geralt, Will and all the other characters of Henry Cavill because this post is already too long for anyone to read, lol.

But I surely have to count the man himself

9. Henry Cavill

Yes, I am obsessed with this man and I am not sorry! I guess I won't ever get back to the unfinished RPF that got me into writing at all but I will not stop loving the adorkable man that he is.

And then there are still some guys that don't look like Henry:

9. Dean Winchester

I had almost forgotten how much I loved him. Until I introduced the teenager to Supernatural and spent a lot of evenings this year watching that stupid little shit 😍

10. Billy Russo

One of my favorite roles for Ben. And so many good fics out there that I need to explore at some point.

11. Jack Reacher

Very recent addition to the hunks in my head. I love the new season and I'm definitely not immune to that man's visual charms.

I think I will stop here, even if I could name probably another 12...

@ellethespaceunicorn @peyton--warren @gummydummy19 @jvanilly @ronearoundblindly @ylva-syverson want to talk about your favorite characters?

#tag game #2023 character wrapped #Sorry #I know this is unhealty #but I love them all

[disorganised-thoughtss]

For valentines I'd like to share a piece of a SeriRei vampire work in progress that's been on my brain recently. It's not super romantic atm but I feel like later on it has the chance to be.

(Roughly 1000 word wip below cut. There's a bit of talk about being interested in Reigen's neck and pulling him close so watch out if you don't like that.)

It was another ordinary day at Spirits & Such, or at least, it would have been if it wasn’t for Serizawa’s recent problem. To put it simply, Serizawa's eyes seemed to gravitate toward Reigen’s neck more than usual.

There was almost something hypnotic in it. Each time he couldn’t help imagining himself sinking his teeth in. He could almost feel it. The spring of soft flesh at his mercy. A thrumming sensation just beneath called to him. It was too tantalizing to ignore. It made him want to walk over, grab Reigen by the waist and then-

Serizawa shook his head. He lost count of how many times he had to shake those thoughts away since the work day began.

The thoughts were in no way appropriate. He was meant to be working and Reigen was his friend!

Serizawa swallowed the excess saliva coating his mouth but it still felt overcrowded, almost as if his canines grew overnight. There had to be something wrong with him. Was he sick? Maybe? His head was throbbing from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. He scolded himself for not checking his temperature before leaving the house.

Reigen looked up from the work on his desk. “Uh, want something Serizawa?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Well, uh,” Serizawa tried to ignore any and all thoughts of how inviting the newly exposed neck looked. “I’m starting to think I might be a little sick,” he gulped.

“Hmm you do seem a little pale. Mind if I check your temperature?”

“No, not at all.”

Reigen left his desk joined by the faint smell of incense that clung to his work suit. Once close, he placed the back of his hand on Serizawa’s forehead. It immediately recoiled. “Yikes, you’re ice cold! Wait here, I’m getting you one of my special healing teas.”

Serizawa didn't move from his desk. He knew that the teas could only do so much but the idea of drinking something warm felt like just the thing he needed. It would surely set his mind back onto a more productive (and less intimately decorated) track.

Reigen came back offering a hot mug of tea before adjusting the thermostat and making himself comfortable at his desk. He gave an almost guilt ridden look to Serizawa then awkwardly shuffled his chair to the window and closed the blinds just enough so they could still see.

Serizawa let his eyes adjust to the newly darkened office. His headache went away almost immediately. With his mind less crowded he stared at the cup in front of him. The steam rolled into the cool air rather cutely (almost like little clouds).

For some reason tea didn’t feel right, as if he was meant to be drinking something else. Was he craving coffee? It would be rude to refuse at this stage so he drank it anyway.

It left him feeling unsatisfied. His stomach twisted as he salivated once again. Maybe he was hungry?

The day continued as it typically would. A couple walk-ins arrived seeking Reigen’s expertise as Serizawa worked on papers and spoke to clients over the phone.

Soon after, Tome came into the office with her usual energy. She slung her school bag on the floor talking about something that happened at school. She didn't seem to care how dimly lit the office was, Serizawa supposed she was used to walking in mid “seance” where the room was a fire hazard of candles with no sunlight light.

Tome took one look at Serizawa then paused mid-sentence. “Serizawa what happened?” She questioned pointing to the plaster on his neck.

“Oh um…” Serizawa trailed off, unsure the most appropriate way to say a vampire cosplayer bit him. The whole ordeal was rather embarrassing to think about.

Reigen cut in before Serizawa could form a response, “got into a fight with some weirdo on our last job.”

“Really?! Are you ok?” She asked eyes wide looking at Serizawa then to Reigen and back again.

“Yes, speaking of, can you please get me another plaster from the first aid kit? I should probably change mine.”

Tome nodded, marching back to Serizawa’s desk with a plaster. She watched with gross curiosity, waiting for someone to tell her what happened. Serizawa opened the packet then tore off the old plaster in a single motion. He was going to apply the fresh one but then-

Tome gasped, “Is that a vampire bite?!”

“No, it was from someone dressed like a vampire.” He responded.

Tome crossed her arms as if Serizawa missed something incredibly obvious. Her eyes slowly scanned the office starting from the closed blinds to the takeout containers littering Reigen's desk then finally the thermostat. “so you haven’t had any sensitivity to sunlight? Or a sudden dislike of garlic? Low temperature? Or... a hunger for blood?!"

Was she implying that the bite was in fact an actual vampire bite?

Reigen nonchalantly flapped his hand to gain the room's attention. “Those are just symptoms of being under the weather. Except-for-the-blood-thing. But! He is not craving blood! Because he isn’t a vampire! Right Serizawa? Back me up here!”

Serizawa thought about it. He let the idea take shape in his mind. He observed it spin and roll like the steam leaving his tea from earlier.

He did have trouble with the sunlight coming into the office and the garlic from lunch did sting his nose when it typically wouldn’t (so much so he skipped lunch entirely). Reigen did say he was ice cold earlier. He never had those symptoms when he was sick before… but he wasn’t craving blood… right? What would that even feel like?

The more he thought about it, maybe he did?

That would explain his sudden interest in biting his boss’s neck. Thank goodness! He wasn’t some kind of pervert, he was just hungry.

For blood...

His boss's blood...

Reigen repeated his question, “right Serizawa? You’ve had those other symptoms but you’re fine.” He seemed to take the silence that followed as an answer, “sorry Tome. That new movie has convinced you vampires are real-”

“Actually,” Serizawa interrupted, “I have had thoughts that could be interpreted as craving blood.”

Reigen’s mouth hung open with a look that could only be interpreted as “are you serious?”

Serizawa simply nodded.

Reigen forced a cough, "just as I thought," he agreed with a parody of Serizawa's nod. "This is why you're my favourite secretary, Tome. Great detective work! Now I’m gonna go… make-a-call-real-quick," he added before rushing to the massage room. Through the door Reigen's muffled voice could be heard arguing with what could only have been Dimple.

Thank you for reading :)

#Serirei #mp100 fanfic wip #can you tell I was craving bread when I wrote Serizawa being hungry? #ElipFicWip #yay new blog tag

[nextinline-if]

I’ve seen people ask authors who they’d ship their characters with, but I’m curious which ROs, from other WIPs, are your favorite? Is there any specific reason?

I absolutely love your story so much! You’re wonderful!

I'm unsure if both of these asks are yours, but I'm sorry it took so long to answer (like months RIP). Screenshot one was recent the other is older. Also thank you anon for your sweet words. <3

I appreciate your no-choice-patience <3 This is such a fun question. I read it wrong for about 4 months and kept stressing about which ROs to ship with mine. My brain was NOT working.

I'm being fucking serious, unfortunately. Please laugh at me in the comments. </3

Here are some of my favorite ROs from other WIPs:

Seven - @infamous-if; I can write a paragraph about why I like Seven but does anyone really want that? Heh. When the game first started, I was SO ready to be like "f you Seven, you jerk!" And then we find out that Seven still has that tattoo. Okay, interest peaked. Well, played. You got me f'ed up. I like to play tropes where it's from ex - to enemies - to lovers. Juicy stuff right there.

Ari - @theoperativeif; There's something really enticing about not just a slow burn but a slow burn that has the extra burn because of the obstacles in the relationship that prevent you from reaching each other. Ouch. I normally don't like slowwwww burns. Like, a little slow is good cause it's realistic but like where I ONLY get to imagine them in my MC's head or in memories? Got me f'ed up. (Again). I think I like this because of the trauma the two characters have faced together. Is trauma bond a tope? Don't know but let's go with that.

Blade - @shepherds-of-haven; On a surface level, you get a character who fights for those he cares for, has strong convictions, and is hard to get close to. I'm a sucker for those. But on a deeper level, I really enjoy the way his story is written and told. Unearthing Blade's past and trying to weave your MC into this complex character's heart. Not sure what trope is going on here but I'll take it all.

Sol - @theabyssal; Yeah, my Death is pretty pissed at Sol right now...but you're telling me that literal sunshine fell for Death? The Abyssal has A+ writing as is, but adding an incredible love story like that really hooks my soppy lil heart. The complexities...THE COMPLEXITIES. I'm on the edge of my f-ing seat here people. I want Sol to suffer and beg my Death for forgiveness. And my Death will make Sol suffer emotionally and then accept the forgiveness :') (she's a weak betch)

Dara - @ataleofcrowns; I mean, I LOVE forbidden/let's romance my general type of vibe. But Dara is an exquisitely written character. The whole game is beautiful but the characters are so full of depth. There's always another layer. Plus, I normally play a shier MC but I like catching Dara off guard. It's so enjoyable. Got me giggling and shit.

There are plenty of other lovely ROs from amazing IFs that I like but these came to the top of my mind and I didn't want to make this too long. I like tropes that f me up emotionally. More tears = better. Rip my heart out. Maybe put it back in. Maybe leave is on the ground. Author's choice.

That said, I go for a lot of different tropes and try to do multiple playthroughs to romance all or most of the cast. I think every character can offer something different and I don't want to miss out <3

#anon reply #thanks for the ask #you're wonderful too anon #I didn't even add my visual novel ROs but I think i answered that a really long time ago. #i love you August #and Markus #and Lucien #and Serin #grabby hands for all ROs

[rockyroadkylers]

WIP Wednesday!

I was tagged by @ssmtskw and @littlemisskittentoes this time! (both your fics look SO GOOD)

I'm really excited this week because. Okay, listen. I started a new WIP. I had, like, five already, but we were talking in the server last week about how there are almost no "Alex fell first" fics, which is kind of understandable because it's hard to come up with a scenario where it would be him instead of Henry, BUT! I was thinking about it a couple days ago, and I swear, it was an actual lightbulb moment.

Everyone who's read the book knows Alex had a massive crush on Henry way before he realized it for himself, and I'm convinced that crush goes all the way back to the days of J14 magazine. I mean, come on, sneaking into June's room to touch a picture of Henry's hair? Multiple times? 😂 Alex, bless your heart, babe.

Anyway, that led my train of thought to Alex getting snubbed at Rio, and the whole concept of unrequited crushes, and then came the lightbulb moment: Hanahaki AU. I've seen a few where Henry has it, but only, like, one where Alex does. And now there will be another! This is not the kind of vibe I usually go for with my writing, but it's been fun to branch out!

It's, um, slightly evil (big whumpy angst vibes), as I have already been told several times by multiple people in the server who have seen snippets, but I'm having so much fun writing it. So, here's a snippet from my newest WIP, which will either be titled "i picked the petals, he loves me not" OR "come and meet me in my garden"

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Alex has been snubbed by political peers plenty of times before, and he would be probably snubbed by plenty more, but for some reason this rejection had hurt a hell of a lot more than any other. His heart had dropped into his stomach when Henry turned away from him, with that look on his face like if he didn’t get away from Alex fast enough, he might give him fleas.

The thing is (and it’s kind of embarrassing to admit, even to himself), Alex used to look up to Henry. Until pretty recently, as a matter of fact.

Recently, as in, about two hours ago.

He’d always been aware of Prince Henry as a general concept. The royal family is always in the news for some reason or another, so Alex grew up seeing candid shots of Henry with his parents and siblings in magazine spreads, in waiting rooms and grocery store check-outs. But he can still remember the first time he saw a picture of Henry in one of June’s magazines where he hadn’t been with the rest of his family, just featured on his own in one of those locker-sized tear-out posters, with his name printed across the page in big block lettering and a little blurb about his hobbies in the corner. Henry had looked so bright, and happy, and full of life, and easy-going. Alex had been maybe a little bit obsessed with that picture for… a solid two years. Though his obsession with the boy in the picture ended up lasting much longer.

For all the fucking good it did him, in the end.

How does the saying go? Never meet your heroes. Alex gets it, now.

If Henry really is the reason he’s spending his evening coughing up flowers instead of getting wasted at the diving finals with his sister and best friend, Alex doesn’t know if he should be madder at Henry for being a dick, or at himself for being naive enough to believe they could be friends.

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I think I've already seen some of these people's posts on my dash today, but I'm gonna go ahead and tag @read-and-write-, @suseagull04, @affectionatelyrs, @inexplicablymine, and @anincompletelist!

#my wips #wip wednesday #rwrb #tag game

[riinoaheartilly]

can i see gregor stardew au wip please? 🥺​

@runicmagitek @loverboy-havocboy gonna answer the three of you together here since I'll just end up giving the same answer <3

So Stardew got an update recently :) Any time I play a game where you can name multiple pets/animals/etc, I usually go with my current hyperfixation, which just currently happens to be Star Wars (tcw/tbb mostly) [ screenie here ].

Gonna put more under read more because it involves a very minor spoiler from S3E6 of TBB (I know it's been weeks since it aired, but I'm being considerate to those who follow me and haven't been able to watch or don't want to see/read anything about the show).

In that episode there's a line that Fireball says mentioning that the food he brings out is a recipe of Gregor's.

I loved the idea that Gregor cooks (whether he experiments or goes with recipes he may have learnt from others) and then I came to wondering where he might have gotten the ingredients from.

Logic just says that he might have gotten it from established contacts that the clones have, but of course with Stardew Valley on the brain, the idea of "oh hey maybe he has his own little lot somewhere that he gets ingredients from" which then expanded to "hey what if Gregor was a farmer and had his own farm he tends to with regular help/visitors?" and so, with this drawing I drew ages ago, the concept of an au exists (:

I don't have any plans on actually writing as I don't have ideas of what to do with it, but I did start a wip of a sketch page of what Gregor looks like in the AU and just him doing a bunch of chores around the farm like tending to some sheep or collecting some eggs from chickens, etc etc.

#wip game #sorry. this ended up long-winded

[gggoldfinch]

brrrrrrr art dump for the tfp self insert oc my childhood self could only dream of 🤯 I drew these back in July but have been thinking about them again recently. This is so embarrassing but I'm so proud of how these character sheets came out, but I can't post them without context so here we goooooo (oc info at the bottom!!!!!!😭)

Embarrassing au & oc info time!!!!!! (tw for vague discussion of non-human self-harm in 10th bullet point):

Okay so basically to preface: in my wip fic (wip is a gross exaggeration), everything remains canonically accurate to TFP except for the fact I use my Magic Fanfic Writer Powers to incorporate ridiculous Cybertronian mysticism canon into it for the sole purpose of furthering my self indulgent plot armor via cyberforming (cyberforming being when organic material becomes that of Cybertronian-make through means of mysticism and/or science)

Marian (unabashed tradgoth self insert) starts off as human. She gets picked up by the Cons while smashed drunk one night bc they think she has info on the Bots (found her bc she was lurking on online forums asking too many questions about big robot aliens bc she once saw them brawling and wanted answers), then she just ends up being kept alive and kept around as a pet/team mascot/ emotional support human, because hey if the Bots have one then maybe humans can be of some use

After a while Marian ends up forming a bond with Starscream (and KO to a lesser extent) after they both end up treating each other with compassion and respect (wow! trauma-bonding!). She kinda definitely falls desperately in love with him (and thinks it's unrequited but jk!). Angst & hurt/comfort abound! Gratuitous usage of mass-displacement device for nsfw purposes! You didn't hear that from me...

She is accidentally killed during the Battle on Cybertron (ca. season 3) by being hit with a stray plasma blast.

Here is where AU material comes in lol!!!!!!!

With the Well of AllSparks alive once again, in an act of desperation SS leaves her body at the edge of the well and actually prays for once in his miserable life. Through a mystical act of pity or mercy or whatever, a fresh spark combines with her own approximation of a soul and cyberforms her corpse and resurrects/ reincarnates her. She's herself, with all her old memories— but also something new, with all-new potential. No one knows wtf is going on lol

She becomes the first mech created on "New" Cybertron. "Cyberform-forged" is the term used for her, making her something of a new race (in the same way the Terrans are a new race), and is more of a mystic anomaly than anything (largely because there is no opportunity to recreate the event).

She's formed with a Vosnian Seeker frame and Cybertronian alt mode. Her frame is weather resistant: built to tolerate and fly through high winds and dangerous weather (Cybertronian and Terran) and relies more on brute force than grace in aviation. This means she is bulky rather than slim and aerodynamic like SS. She's a revival of the (near?) extinct class (if we're going by Prime!canon then Starscream is the only confirmed Vosnian Seeker left). Why Primus decided that cranking out new Vosnians would be a good idea is beyond everyone; everyone is too busy wondering how tf cyberforming works and what the consequences of it are to really question it.

Physically, she's not overtly femme— more androgynous, which is on brand for her Vosnian build. She's top-heavy with large pauldrons, shoulders double the width of her hips. Her new frame reflects her old human body in a very rough, vague way— only enough to be noticeable to those who really knew her before. She applies face paint by hand like her old makeup, and paints one servo red to match how she used to wear her nail polish. She's shorter than SS, around 30-ish feet tall (whereas he pushes 35'). She doesn't have a very good grasp on how her wings emote, therefore anyone who can read Seeker body language can always tell exactly how she's feeling.

She suffers with severe ptsd, depression, and body dysmorphia/ dysphoria as a result of the cyberforming and her human death, and semi-often has moments of panic and distress wherein she self-harms in an attempt to undo what's been done. In a potent mix of lingering human neurodivergency & the jarring biological shift, she often gets overwhelmed by her new body, notably her biomechanical functions: her optics cause a significant amount of stress on a regular basis, to the point where visual "notifications" and all other miscellaneous visual obstructions have to be disabled in order for her to function. This means no scanning data, etc, without purposefully reactivating the internal procedures required for the task. She also has a lot of trouble coping with the lack of sexual dimorphism. Shortly after her "awakening," she brutalized herself due to severe confusion and psychological distress (see the second to last image :( ) and KO had to sedate and mend her.

Every who encounters her and knows her story kinda assumes she just "came back" with a processor malfunction (or if they don't know her story, think she was just traumatized by the war), which isn't totally wrong. Knockout is one of her major supporters thru this and professionally thinks she probably needs a mnemosurgeon to fix her, but can't find any to contact so soon post-war.

She's rather clumsy, and takes a while to acclimate to such a different body (it also doesn't help that Seekers tend to have disproportionally long limbs, as well as cumbersome wings). She smacks things and other mechs with her wings, crushes things in her servos, basically she severely underestimates her own strength and size

One perk to her new body is that she can stream music directly into her processor, which is a function she abuses often to drown everything else out. There are functions she couldn't even dream of before: she can disable pain processors, turn off sight and hearing like throwing a switch, disable various biomechanical functions. She doesn't need to breathe like a human, or expel waste. Energon tastes like battery acid and firecrackers, but hey, she can turn off "taste" processors too.

She's afraid of herself at times, and by extension is afraid of intimacy too. She's afraid she's too different now, in a foreign body she can't seem begin understanding. She feels burdened by expectations; she's not a real Vosnian Seeker, she's not even a real Cybertronian in the way that counts— she is a freakish amalgamation of human memories and a soul stuffed into a shell made new especially for her, despite her having had no say in the matter... Or, at least, that's what she thinks. Those closest to her think she's a miracle and are thrilled to still have her, indefinitely now. Before when she was human, SS had been frustrated and genuinely afraid of feeling anything remotely positive towards her, because of how tragically short human life spans are (and his fears had been proven valid when she was killed). Now he has Marian forever, and while coping with his own problems post-war, he cares for her and teaches her how to be a noble Seeker.

YIPPEEEEEEE

#taught myself to draw mech specifically to draw these #SEE I can be a decent artist when I try 🥺 #transformers oc #tfp oc #goldfinch draws #goldfinch writes #(I also forgot to add my @ on the second image hnnnng)