#and I realized while writing this that I very much like the idea of their post-turning dynamic being sort of damon/katherine-esque?

[ilys00ga]

𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗺𝗲?

➞ pair: yoongi x female reader.

➞ word count: 897

➞ synopsis: just shy bf yoongi proposing to his gf :)

➞ genre: established relationship, shy bf yoongi, marriage proposal, fluffy fluff.

➞ A/N: I honestly can't believe I managed to finally write something just in a few hours lmao. BUTs this is actually inspired by a tiktok/reel i watched a while ago. i lost it now but it was about a guy proposing to his gf and the gf was so freaking cute she kept screaming and jumping around, he ended uo jumping along with her and screaming too lmao it was so cute i hope they r happy rn! enjoy babes <3

- ignore typos and mistakes :)

★ MASTERLIST.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

Yoongi’s hands were trembling on his lap. The longer he waited, the more sweaty his warm palms got.

He would’ve enjoyed the atmosphere he was wrapped up in at that very moment, really. If it weren't for his irritated nervous system completely isolating him from the world outside of his mind, his being.

Outdoors, under the sparkling night sky, Yoongi laid on the grass with his lover by his side, stargazing. A blazed fire pit closely by their feet, paired with the splendid view of the mountains and the lake surrounding them, that was the kind of atmosphere he'd been preparing for his girlfriend for the past two months.

The rythmic, pulsating sound of night crickets chirping somewhere in the distance added a nice shade of color to their painting.

Perhaps, renting that vacation house for a few days was the one of the best decisions he'd made for his lover, but his plan was hanging off his entire body like some heavy metal armor, and it almost felt as though the small ring box hiding in his pocket was close to exploding at any moment.

Turning his head to the side, the sight of his girl smiling so brightly as she gazed up to the sky soared his heart up. Yoongi loved people watching. It’s almost in his nature, being a quiet, introverted person in his very core. He loved admiring people the most when they were busy with the things they loved the most, the things they found mesmerizing and beautiful the most. He loved watching people being people.

He loved it more when people were his person, his girl. And when she told him a few weeks ago about her love for stars, the idea popped in his head, and he couldn't help but make a secret promise in his heart. A promise that he'd make her spend one of her best nights under the shining bright sky, with him by her side.

So, when her eyes met his staring ones questioningly, he realized he'd bsent-mindedly uttered her name out loud.

That's when he took a deep breath in, felt the chill night air filling his chest up, and knew it was the right moment.

He dipped his hand into his pocket, feeling the hard box with his sweaty fingers. “I've been planning this for a really long time.”

Her questioning gaze turned confused when he sat up, attentively curious, but she let him speak. It only made him blush, though. And he tried to brush it off by looking down at the fist only he knew what's hidden inside of it.

Between his shyness and her amused chuckle, he pressed on his brain to function properly and carry his mission out.

“I had everything figured out. From renting this place, to setting this fire up. Yet, as I sit down here under the stars, with you right in front of me…this is all I can manage to do.”

With trembling, long fingers, Yoongi carefully and slowly opened the small box, presented it to the girl.

He watched her eyes leaving his to land on his hands, on the ring sitting prettily right in the middle of the box. In a matter of seconds, she stood up and gasped. The way her resting face snapped into a shocked one and her hand flew to cover her ajar mouth almost had him barking a short laugh out, but Yoongi smiled nervously nonetheless.

“Oh my god…!” She started screaming, jumping around in her place with so much excitement and glee. Yoongi couldn't decide whether to be grateful that her reaction helped quietening a lot of his nerves down, or burst out in laughter. Either way, his cheeks ached as he grinned so widely, too relieved and happy to even pop the question to his lady.

“Damn, you really were waiting for it!”

He waited patiently, letting her have her moment. His heart never slowed down, however. It beat so fast that he could swear he was getting slightly dizzy.

It didn't take too long for her to—momentarily—calm down, allowing the man who's been staring every so lovingly at her to finish what he started.

“Hold on, im supposed to be on one knee.” he said, but she stopped him right away.

“Youre doing just fine. Go for it, I don't care.” She took his free hand in hers and beamed at him. Yoongi was long since gone, by that point.

“I don't know what to say anymore. I'm usually a very careful guy.” He gulped timidly, “I'm too wary to take huge steps like this one. But somehow, whenever I'm with you, I always know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm just… too sure to be reluctant about it.

“So, __, will you marry me?–” before he could even finish the last syllable of his little speech, she yelled out a series of ‘yes, yes, yes, yes!’ and jumped right into his arms.

Yoongi thought that all puffs of air left his lungs and that he stopped breathing as soon as the first ‘yes’ eagerly escaped her lips.

His arms wrapped up around her so tight, his eyes closed shut as he buried his face in her shoulder, and the stars shone bright above their heads. A silent key witness of yet another new stage of their love.

#yoongi #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #bts yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #bts scenarios #bts #yoongi fic #yoongi gif #min yoongi #bts fic #bts gifs #bts army

[lestappenforever]

DROP THE TEXT EXCHANGE FIC 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

I would like to preface this by saying that threats are not a good incentive to get me to write anything, anon. But, you're in luck this time because I was already feeling inspired as hell.

The text exhange in question.

Dedicated to @f1writingbyme, for once again being my muse, allowing me to scream ideas at her, and helping me decide on the very important details along the way.

AO3 link.

---

There's a hand on his shoulder during his post-qualifying interview in the media pen; a firm squeeze followed by equally firm pats, and Charles knows who it is before he even lays eyes on Max. After all, he could recognize that touch anywhere, at any time.

His face lights up with pure glee at the sight of the Dutchman, the way it always does.

Green eyes meet blue, and despite Max's own disappointing qualifying landing him in a measly P6, the Red Bull driver looks at Charles with nothing but genuine joy and pride. Because in spite of his own struggles, Max is irrevocably, endlessly happy for Charles.

Max knows how much this means to him — has been there for every single disappointing weekend the Monégasque has experienced in his home race over the past few years. He's seen the heartbreak in his eyes, listened to him raging about the mistakes made there in the past; both by Charles himself and by his team. As with practically everything else in his career, Max has been right there with him. And for that reason, Charles is absolutely certain that even if Max had ended up having to start tomorrow's race from P20, the Dutchman still would have found it in himself to be as happy for Charles as he would have been for himself had Max been the one to secure pole.

They clasp hands like they have done hundreds, if not thousands, of times before. Max's grip is tight, but Charles' is even tighter, as he is overcome with a realization that has hit him so many times before over the years:

He doesn't want to let go. And he can tell by the way Max squeezes his hand one more time that the feeling is mutual.

Charles sees his own emotions, his own desires, reflected in those beautiful blue eyes — can feel the electricity simmering between them, just beneath the surface, the way it has done for so many years. Always there, close enough for them both to reach out and grasp and yet, just out of reach. It's a line neither of them have dared to cross, both highly aware of the fact that if — when — they do, there will be no going back.

The unasked question that has always been there, but never spoken aloud, lies heavy between them.

'Are you feeling this, too?'

'No,' the other would always answer, just as silently as the question itself. Even if it's a lie. Even if it has always been a lie; one they've both told themselves and each other as a way to ensure they don't step over that line.

But, in that moment, Charles is sure he would never even want to go back. Sure that if there is one thing he wants almost as much as winning his home race tomorrow, it's crossing that line with Max. To give into that oh-so-powerful pull between them they've both been trying and failing to ignore for God knows how long.

They maintain eye contact only for a mere few seconds, but it's enough for Charles to see that flash in Max's eyes.

He wants to cross that line, too. It's about time. It's long overdue.

Max lets go of his hand and walks away, and Charles looks down at the ground briefly, trying to will his cheeks not to flush with the intensity of such a brief exchange in front of the camera, before returning his focus to the interviewer.

His mind, however, never lets go of Max.

If Charles hadn't already felt like he was flying, he sure as hell is now.

***

His phone vibrates in his pocket a little while later, and Charles feels his heart picking up the pace as he reads Max's name on the display.

'Congratulations on pole! Well deserved!'

His heart flutters.

'Thank you! I'm so happy 😊'

He sends a second text immediately after.

'It's a shame you're not up there with me, though'

Max doesn't leave him waiting long for a response.

'Still 78 laps to go, mate. You think I won't do everything to get into the top 3 tomorrow?'

Charles glances around, making sure nobody is paying attention to him as he tries and fails to bite back a smile as excitement starts coursing through him.

'You really think you can overtake two Mercedes, at least one McLaren and a Ferrari?'

It's a stupid question, Charles knows, because if anyone can do it in Monaco, it's Max fucking Emilian Verstappen. But he can't resist the jab; can't resist the urge to try to get under Max's skin, just a little. Just like he hasn't been able to resist since he and Max first met back in karting when when they were literal children.

The bubble with the three dots appears briefly before disappearing and reappearing a few seconds later. Then:

'To get to share a podium with you in your home race?'

'I could overtake Michael, Seb and Ayrton if I had to.'

The smile turns into a full-blown grin, and Charles feels giddy as he reads the two messages over and over again. The anticipation thrumming within him, bubbling just underneath the surface of his skin, is so overwhelming he needs three attempts to send his next message that consists of a single word:

'Yeah?'

Then, with more confidence:

'Prove it.'

Max's response is immediate.

'Oh, I will.'

As he pockets his phone, his heart beating wildly in his chest and his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he knows Max isn't just talking about the race.

He hadn't thought he could feel even more excited about tomorrow than he already did, but as he has done so many times with so many things in the past, Max proves him wrong.

***

On Sunday, Charles is preparing to leave his driver's room and make his way to the garage to get ready for the race. But as he opens the door, he's met with the familiar face of Max Verstappen.

"Max, what are you—,"

The Dutchman places a hand on Charles' chest and firmly pushes him back into the room, following him inside and closing the door behind him with his foot in one swift movement. Charles barely has time to process what's happening before Max has grabbed a hold of his shoulder, turned him around and pushed him up against the wall by the door.

Charles has effectively lost his ability to speak as he watches Max lean in until their lips are mere inches apart.

"I needed to see you alone, before the race," he says, voice barely above a whisper. Max's hands drop from his shoulders, instead sliding down his chest, his stomach, coming to a halt on his waist. "To wish you luck."

Charles swallows past the lump in his throat. "You think I need it?" he asks, trying to sound calm and collected, but his voice betrays him almost as much as his dilated pupils do.

"No," Max says immediately, allowing his lips to brush featherlight against Charles'. It's not a kiss, and even if Charles so desperately wants it to be, he doesn't cross that line.

Not yet.

"But I wanted to do it anyway," the Dutchman adds, moving one hand from Charles' waist and raising it to cup Charles' jaw instead, letting his thumb drag gently over the Monégasque's bottom lip.

It sends a full-body shiver through him; one Max notices if the way the small smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

"Good luck, Charles," Max whispers, thumb still on Charles' bottom lip as he leans in closer, closer, until his lips are touching the back of his own thumb, the digit being the only thing separating them.

Charles' heart is beating so hard that he's sure Max must be able to feel his pulse against his thumb. The Dutchman's other hand tightens on Charles' waist, his pupils practically making the blue of his iris disappear altogether.

The thumb moves and Charles thinks that Max will finally — fucking finally, after far too many years — kiss him.

Only for Max to lean his head to the side and instead presses a gentle kiss to Charles' cheekbone; a careful brush of lips against soft skin.

"I'll see you on the podium," he breathes against the skin of Charles' cheek, before pulling away completely and turning to put his hand on the door handle. He pauses before opening the door, looking at Charles with an expression the Monégasque doesn't think he's ever seen before.

"Hey, Charles?"

The Monégasque blinks at him.

"Are you feeling this, too?" Max asks him then, voicing the question that has only been asked through looks up until that point.

And Charles, knowing there is only one correct answer — knows there is only one answer that conveys the truth — sticks with the lie.

For now.

"No."

Max smiles at him, a soft and private thing. Charles' own expression morphs into one of adoration and longing. He returns the smile.

"Me neither."

And with that, Max opens the door and walks out of Charles' driver's room, as if he hasn't just turned both their worlds upside down.

#Asks #Lestappen #Lestappen fic #My writing #f1writingbyme #Lestappen drabble #Ilse's neverending adoration tag

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hi! I really love your writing 💖

Can I request fluff with Eddie Munson x reader?

He has a big crush on her, but he's very shy. Also, he has never been known for affection with his friends, so they rarely even hugged.

But one time at a party, the reader realized he's a big cuddler while he's drunk.

Some time later, Eddie would love to cuddle with her again but he's too shy, so he pretends to be drunk and giggly again. 😅

Can we get a happy end, please? 🙏

Thank you so much! And aww, this is such a cute idea!

shy!eddie x extroverted!fem!reader

cw: mention of alcohol, both reader and Eddie are drunk

It was no secret that Eddie had a huge crush on you. Even though he was very shy, the heart eyes that would form in his eyes when he looked at you were so obvious to everyone. Even you. And you liked Eddie too. How could you not? He was always so sweet and caring and never failed to know what you needed.

You wanted to tell him that you felt the same way, but you felt like you should have let him take the reins. You hoped that he would eventually be comfortable enough around you to tell you the truth, but you had been hanging around him for six months and nothing. He wouldn’t even touch you which you knew was because of his trust issues and you were willing to help him through it.

You showed up to Steve’s party with the sole intention of finding Eddie. He had told you he was going to be there which you found odd since he didn’t really care for being around that many people at once. You had no idea what that was like, but you sympathized.

You grabbed a drink for yourself and made a beeline for the curly mop. He paused mid conversation and pulled you in for a tight hug which caught you off guard since that was very abnormal for him. He arms wrapped around your waist tightly, burying his face into your neck.

Turned out that Eddie just needed a few drinks in him to be down to cuddle. He held onto you the whole night, his face buried in your neck while he occasionally pressed kisses to it. You loved seeing that side of him. The physically affectionate side of him that had no probably holding onto you tight.

Although, you felt bad that he felt like he needed to get drunk in order to hug you. You hoped that he knew that he could hug you whenever he wanted and didn’t need to drink to do so. You guys were friends and despite his nervousness around you sometimes, you hoped that he knew that you’d be there for him no matter what.

After the party, Eddie found himself pretending to be drunk just to get cuddles from you. At first, you played along, but over time, you were getting tired of the act. You were going to finally tell him how to felt to finally put a stop to the madness. You thought that maybe if he knew that you felt the same way, he’d stop.

You both were lying on your bed and Eddie was acting like a fool once again. He was all giggly and mumbling in gibberish which were the telltale signs that he was faking. Enough was enough.

You pulled him into your arms and he snuggled into you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You ran your hand through his hair while pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I really like you,” you told him and he just snuggled further into you, letting out a contented sigh.

“I like you too.”

“No, Eddie,” you pulled his face away from your chest and forced him to look you in the eye. “I like you.” His eyes went wide and his mouth was agape at your words. He didn’t see that coming at all. “So you can stop pretending to be drunk just to cuddle me.”

“You knew about that huh?” He let out a nervous chuckle.

“I know everything,” you smiled. “So are you going to be my boyfriend or not?”

“Oh, I’m so going to be your boyfriend.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek then snuggled into your chest once again, the two of you falling asleep peacefully know that you were finally together after months of dreaming about it.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #shy!eddie munson #extroverted!reader #shy!eddie x extroverted!reader

[spence-whore]

Short Stack

Request: spencer is so cute he’s just a wittle guy 😭😭😭 he would tower over me tho omg wait a reader x spencer but reader works at smosh and is short and ppl make fun of her and spencer is like “nah its hot that they are short” or something cute and flirty and kinda goofy because he’s so goofy

A/N lisssteeeen i know i just posted one but i hated it and i felt like this was such a cute one. so, y’all get two in one day🫶🏻 this one is gonna be a short one (no pun intended) but hopefully this does your request justice<3 also, side comment about this. This was definitely a different one for me to write because I’m usually taller than everyone i meet. I always like to say I’m metaphorically small because my personality and how quiet i am makes me feel tiny lmao

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Your entire life, you have been known as the small one. You’re quite small, so this led to you being teased for it your entire life. You thought once you got into an adult, office job that it would change.

Oh, how you were so wrong.

“Hey short stack.” Courtney said and flopped down in the chair across from you.

“You got nothing better? I’ve heard that a thousand of times before.” You said snorting and shaking your head.

You know that they meant no harm but it got to a point that it was kind of annoying. All anyone ever comments on about you is your height.

“Honestly though, I know we comment on it a lot, Y/N…” Noah says trailing off and standing in front of the chairs.

“How are you so little?” You respond in a mocking tone. “I don’t know. Whenever I was little, doctors done scans and everything. It was nothing concerning or anything like that. I’m just small.”

“I honestly think it’s adorable. You’re like a little pocket size human.” You hear Amanda say from the side as she approaches the conversation.

“At least I’m not getting bullied for being a ‘short king’ anymore.” Shayne comments while doing air quotations and sitting down beside Courtney. “I genuinely never thought there would be a day that someone would show up at Smosh that is smaller than me and Spencer.”

“I might be small but I can still fuck up your knee caps if you don’t leave me alone.” You mumbled while sliding down in your seat and glaring at Shayne.

“Leave them alone guys.” You hear Spencer say whenever approaching the little get together. “Honestly, I think it’s kinda hot that they are that little.” He says and shrugs his shoulders.

You felt your face immediately flush red because your office crush had just commented on your height and said it was hot.

“Uh, thanks? I guess? That’s definitely a new one.” You whispered and tried to cover up your face with your hair.

“Honestly though, it really is. I’m used to everyone else being my height or taller but you’re so little. It’s so precious. I could like scoop you up and just carry you around.” Spencer adds then walks away.

You didn’t know what to say, you could just feel everyone staring at you because everyone was very aware of your very obvious crush on the guy.

“Oh, Y/N!! Your height is so attractive!! I could just pick you up smooch you and hold you close to me!” Amanda starts saying in a teasing tone with a huge grin on her face.

“So, how’s that new video idea going?” You try changing the topic with Courtney but she won’t change it.

“Oh, what video? I think we should just talk about the little exchange you and little Spencer just had.” She says while gigging and making a face at you.

“He was just teasing me, he doesn’t find me attractive or anything. Just leave it be, please.” You pleaded, staring at the woman in front of you.

“Y/N. I was pretty much saying what Amanda was saying..” You hear Spencer say from behind you, not realizing he had came back. “I could just pick you up, smooch you, and carry you around.” He says in a mocking tone like Amanda then starts laughing as well as everyone else.

All you could feel was your face heating up and your heart racing. “Oh for fucks sake.”

“Calm down short stack, might blow a fuse with how red you are.” Spencer says while sitting beside you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder then pulling you close to him.

“We’re just teasing you. Calm down. What I said might be true though. You will never know.”

#spencer agnew x reader #smosh x reader #spencer agnew fluff #spencer agnew imagines #smosh imagine

[festivating]

hi!!!! absolutely LOVING attrition, I wanted to ask about your writing process...

how long have you had the idea for the story? what's your outlining process like? how big of a backlog did you have before you started posting?

your dedication and committment to this fic is incredibly impressive and i am astonished (and grateful!!!!) for the consistent weekly updates and fr i just wanna know how you manage it all... (speaking as someone who has been working on the same 40ish chapter fic for over 5 years lol....)

keep up the fantastic work!!

Omg hiiiii friend thank you for the questions I LOVE talking about writing!! I usually start writing long stories after I get an idea for a particular scene, and then I heavily outline around that scene and I plan everything down to the smallest detail, but for attrition I just.... didn't plan at all, that fic spawned to existence out of pure whimsy and happenstance. It was supposed to be a ONE SHOT 😭I started writing it in May of 2023 after I read the first book and I was like mm wouldn't it be interesting if Glinda found Elphaba at the convent surely this won't be longer than 5k words...

I am a severely delusional person.

By the time I hit 20k words I realized perhaps it would not be a one shot lol. I didn't really have an outline I just kept throwing ideas on the page thinking eventually I would just run out of things to say, but it actually took a very long time before that happened. The backlog is pretty much the whole fic tbh, I finished it all and sent it to my beta reader (who was horrified because the whole thing was one massive document not even divided into chapters) and then we went back and forth for months while I polished things up, tightened loose ends, added foreshadow, cleaned up the prose and things like that.

I'm still working on revising the final chapters, but the fic was 80% done before I started posting in November! I am truly more of an editor than I am a writer, the first draft of this thing was finished very quickly and it was very rough, so it took a lot of revisions before I was satisfied.

But anyway, yeah! I may not be the best person to ask how to manage it all because my process is weird I write super fast very unpolished first drafts then spend two lifetimes editing and revising. Mad respect to you and other writers who are able to write exactly what they want from the start and post that to incredible results!!

#yes the hyperfixation had me by the throat but also i had a lot of free time last year and i was Going Through Things so the stars aligned #anyway thank you sooo much for sending me this and for being so nice!!! <333 #attrition tag

[kanene-yaaay]

Warm, Soft and all the other things that I can only be with you

Kanene's notes: Ok, I just had NO IDEA that I would come to like Jiang Cheng as much as I do when I first watched mdzs. Maybe I should've realized when his first apparition is LITERALLY coming right when Jin Ling is being defeated by Wei Wuxian and calls him saying that >:[[ his jiujiu will kill him and aaaaaa Wei Wuxian asks who his uncle is and then KJHGFDEFGH JIANG CHENG LITERALLY APPEARS FROM NOTHING SAYING "I'm his uncle. Any last words?" BRUHH. He just breaks me. aughhh ALL OF THEM MAKE ME GO INSANE!!!

Anyway this story isn't about any of this. It's about Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen being absurdly in love and playful and cute and silly <3 All the thanks and applause and hugs for @squeaky-n-blushy for spending literally HOURS screaming about mdzs+tickle scenarios with lil ol me because it helped me so much to brainstorm kjhgfdfghjk

Warnings: This is a bit of more intense story than the usual that I write, so be warned. There's angst and lots of fluff. Also a suggestive joke (LOOKING AT YOU WEI WUXIAN) and some making out in the fic but it's really not the main focus here and a quick thing. Lots of teases, tickles, kisses and more teases. Especially about losing control. Romantic setting. Around 13.000 words. Mainly Ler!Jiang Cheng and Lee!Lan Xichen.

[~*~]

Jiang Cheng was not jealous. 

He was fine. Great, even.

He was just... curious.

There were a plentiful of words that could be used to describe Wei Wuxian.

Insufferable. (Strong). Troublesome. (Joyful). Annoying. (Smart). Stupid. (Traitor). Stubborn. (Sacrificial). Careless. (Mischievous). Impulsive. (Brillant). (Genius). (Caring). (Important). (Family). (Stupid). (Stupid). (Stupid).

(Brother).

And, if needed, Jiang Cheng had all of those and much more that he used on a regular basis every time they got stuck in one of their usual bickering matches, both of them still learning how to tip toe the lines between hurt and healing, family and enemies. 

It was hard. Confusing. Good. Exhausting. Raw. They would fight and punch each other across the bonds during a heated match - that were actually growing less and less frequent, thankfully - or extend an olive branch in each other’s direction and not comment on how small it looked in the ocean between them. 

But both of them grew up in the Lotus Pier and no water body could ever scare them. Bandages and cuts decorating their hands as they kept building the bridges and boats to forgive and find each other someday. 

Day after day.

Jiang Cheng shook his head, dissipating those overly sensitive thoughts. All of that was irrelevant and not at all where he wanted to get. Unfortunately, by doing so there wasn’t anything else left to distract him from the little lightheaded, annoyed (flustered) feeling that was taking over all his senses after what happened.

(What just happened?)

He clenched his jaw and huffed, still confused, still annoyed. His steps sounded firm and clear as he kept his determined stride to the room he already knew so well, not even glancing at the young cultivators that knew better than to interrupt him when he looked like this, even if they seemed much more relaxed with his presence at the Cloud Recess after seeing it so often.

Never, ever Jiang Cheng could describe Wei Wuxian, the Patriarch Yilling, one of the most feared cultivators across all the sects, the black spot in Lan Quiren's golden record, the most irresponsible uncle and brother this world had ever seen, as embarrassed.

The scene had hit him like a brick and Jiang Cheng didn’t even mean to see it in the first place! He could pretty much actually go on with the rest of his entire life without ever picturing for a single second what Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan liked to do in their freetime together.

Nowadays, however, both of them spend more time over each other than away, absolutely shamelessly, with no care about who was watching or where they were. With Wei Wuxian drapping himself over his husband's lap during dinners and conferences and Lan Zhan spending every night when the other is away in a hunt or a visit to the Yunmeng sect playing his guqin melancholically through the night and the early hours of the morning to express his deep feeling of longing and pining.

(Thanks everything that Jiang Cheng was never actually there to witness the last one, being an information that Lan Huan shared with him recently with an amused smile on his lips. Because he was pretty sure that if he was living in Gusu Lan and had to endure their constant show of unyielding affection for each other he would end up breaking that damn instrument into pieces.)

So, it was no surprise that Jiang Cheng was forced to witness his brother’s love life first hand again. Because he had been a fool who accepted to have a tea over Wei Wuxian’s house and even more of a fool to believe that his brother, the very one who called him in the first place, would be actually prepared to receive him on the time he himself choose and perhaps be there to show him at least a hint of respect and hospitality that the leader of Yunmeng Jiang Sect deserved and open that goddamn door at once!

(And, yes, maybe he was still jittery about Wei Wuxian’s death. Maybe when he heard the cultivator of resentful energy shout - even though loud noises are forbidden in the Cloud Recess - and the sound of something heavy falling following suit his mind got somehow clogged and his knocking louder and more incisive the longer no one answered him. Maybe he forgot for a moment that they were in the Gusu Lan Sect and, for the first time in a long while, it was only him and Wei Wuxian against the world again. This time he would not run the fuck away.) 

However, when the door opened - a better description would be “was forcefully ripped away from his path, but that was irrelevant - the scene that greeted him had absolutely nothing to do with blood or pain or any kind of danger.

(Not one that Wei Wuxian wasn’t more than used with, at least.)

“What” his voice trembled, no longer with a jittery feeling, but with a barely concealed annoyance. The electricity cracking from Zidian danced now in his arm for an entire different reason than getting ready for a fight. “Is happening here?”

Wei Wuxian squealed on the floor, squirming on the ground like a worm on a rainy day as his husband’s hands danced dedicatedly on his torso at a tickly pace.

“Punishment.” Lan Zhan answered, stoic and direct as ever, totally impassive under Cheng’s blasting glare. Especially because he didn't see it, not even bothering to look up from his position, gaze clued on Wei Wuxian’s face almost hypnotized, as if it was the only image that could ever matter in the world.

(Urgh.)

“A-Cheng!” 

It was ridiculous, really, how only that (and who knew he still had in him to call Jiang Cheng in such an affectionate form) was enough to make his eyes immediately snap into Wei Wuxian’s direction, something relaxing in him when he acknowledged the usual playful tune he already knew too well.

“What.”

“Hehehelp me!”

Jiang Cheng could feel an artery pulsating in his forehead, they both falling easily in their usual push and dance. “Stop being dramatic, he is barely touching you. Get up and use your hands!”

“No, I can't!” His whine was quickly taken over by more giggles, his entire body contorting in protest at the playful attack as he kept his dramatic wailing. “I will rip Lan Zhan's forehead ribbon! Please, A-Cheng!”

Jiang Cheng almost had a whiplash at how quickly his head turned to look at Lan Zhan’s naked forehead and then at Wei Wuxian's hands, seeing that they were in fact bonded by the delicate, white band that the Lan Sect was known for. 

The forehead ribbon. A sacred symbol of resilience and restraint, an extension of yourself that could only be touched and freed by your close family and your significant other, being used as an illusion of a bondage in a meaningless punishment of a childish game.

Lan Zhan’s expression continued just the same as it always did, impassive and serious. Yet, he managed to look extremely smug all the same. He was fully aware of the trap he just put his husband into, knowing Wei Wuxian would rather endure far worse tortures than tickling instead of giving the ribbon left in his care a single strain or tear.

Shameless.

He scoffed. 

(Jiang Cheng ignored how he himself felt when Lan Huan let him touch his own forehead ribbon. He took the ends of the white fabric and freely gave them to Jiang Cheng in one of their quiet evenings, only so they could be woven into the braids of the Yumneng Sect he was occupied in replicating, eyes focused and movements certain as he styled the other’s long, beautiful black hair. How soft and small it felt in his palms. The meaning of that act. How reverent and careful Jiang Cheng was during the entire process, holding the white fabric into his calloused hands while his fingertips and soul trembled with emotion.)

And then those two were just playing around with theirs. They really have no shame!

“Always asking me to clean up your messes, fight for this one yourself! Don’t you remember that you called me here to have tea in the first place? Have you really lost all the sense of respect?”

Wei Wuxian only giggled harder. Whether it was because he always thought it was fun how upright Jiang Cheng was about both of their reputations and how easy it had always been to rile him up about it or because Lan Zhan now changed his absolute nonsense of a tickle attack to focus on his sides, it was uncertain.

“Don’t be so grumpy, A-Cheng!” He squeaked loudly when Lan Zhan tweaked his lowest rib (of course he discovered about that specially ticklish spot, Wei Wuxian had always been so obvious about it, crackling and squirming like crazy when Jiang Cheng did no much than just glaze over it). It didn’t take long before the new sound was completely engulfed by a new round of even more uncontrollable snickers, his legs kicking desperately with energy. “Your face will get stuck in a frown forever! Like a sour plum!”

And, of course he would use his every ounce of oxygen to tease him. Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to replicate.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan interrupted. (Was that an agreement?!) “You’re early.”

The leader from the Yumeng sect crossed his arms defensively, refusing to look too much into the meaning of the other’s words. Another scowl formed in his face. “Of course I am early. Like an actual adult that has more responsibilities and matters to attend to than to get into childish games like tickle fights.”

If that could even be considered a tickle fight at all. It was nothing like the wars he and Wei Wuxian used to get when they were kids, far away from their parents and with too much energy, time and laughter to spare. More often than not they would be rolling on the soft soil or giving the other a surprise ambush in the middle of the piers, squeezing, digging and tickling anywhere they could reach. Teasing, taunting and threatening each other with every sound and laughter. Using all the tricks and pages on the book to get the upper hand for at least a few giddy, breathless seconds. Big smiles, warm hearts and adrenaline running freely in their bones for hours with no end until they both laid exhaustively on the ground, accidentally rolled into one of the lakes or Shiejie came to call them for dinner.

Jiang Cheng watched as the delicate hands rested on the other’s sides and continued to softly scribble non stop on the lowest ribs over and over again, taking turns before quickening their pace and making We Wuxian trash from a side to another with a high pitched ‘eee’ sound until it slowed the rhythm to a light plucking of strings, lightly pressing each spot and barely vibrating there before jumping away.

“Not a tickle fight.” The Lan enlightened. “Punishment.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! No! Please, have mercy. Take pity on your poor husband!”

It was like Jiang Cheng couldn’t pry his eyes away, watching as Lan Wangji calmly run the tip of his fingers up and down the others’ ticklish sides, repeating the cycle for a couple more of times, like a boat letting itself being dragged by the slow pace of the river in a calm day, completely unfazed by his husband’s increasing maddened snickers, his tune starting to border on hysterical.

For a moment, the fingers curled into claws and Jiang Cheng thought that he would actually use an efficient, honest and true tickle attack, finally kneading on the skin and letting the crackles and squeals fill the air with their cacophony. 

His hopes, however, seemed unfounded when the Lan just continued his soft touches, now using more of his nails to create an unbearable, ticklish feeling than only his fingertips and successfully pull more squeals and squeaks with such a move.

(And, if his own ticklish sides tingled in sympathy that was literally nobody's business and a secret that will die and be buried with him.)

Jiang Cheng finally snapped.

“That is not even the proper way you do it!” He did not get close and demonstrated his point, of course. Because he… (surely wouldn’t be welcomed to) he wasn’t a kid anymore and knew he was right. 

Yet, his hands still gesticulated around, antsy.

(Wanting to grab, wanting to dig, wanting to squeeze, to attack and win and listen and never let go again. To feel the taste of the victory of a brawl that is meaningless and only in playful fun, again. To hear screams of laughter and not of fear, to perform with the crackles and shrieks and giggles as the only instrument he was ever actually skilled. An especial melody of affection that needed no words and even he could learn how to play.)

Jiang Cheng pushed those thoughts deep down and continued.

“You’re not even giving any attention to his hips! It’s his most ticklish, weak, defenseless and easy spot ever!” He ignored the protesting, giggly shout from Wei Wuxian and continued, forcing himself to focus on his words and not on the natural answering smirk trying to take over the corner of his lips. “You just need to knead there for a few minutes and then he will be gone. Besides, when you add raspberries to it he’ll laughs so much that you will actually be able to shut him up for once. That is a proper tickle attack. With this, you’re just being lazy!” 

Purposely, he pointed to Lan Zhan’s administrations that now consisted in sweetly rubbing his thumbs on Wei Ying’s highest ribs, happily following his torso as it shook with the barely concealed chuckles and tried to wiggle away from the touch. A lazy job indeed. “You’re barely even touching him at all! That is not even tickling!”

“Oh, it tickles!” Wei Wuxian whined, words were almost completely lost with how much he was giggling. His arms trembled with the force to not slam down when Lan Zhan used a single finger to calmly poke and scratch his armpits, more than unfazed at both of the Yunmeng siblings' outburst. 

Actually, if Jiang Cheng squinted his eyes, he could actually imagine a challenging glint when those golden eyes quickly stared at him for a second. 

“It really tickles! It tickles so, so much!”

For a flash Jiang Cheng saw himself marching determinately at him, sitting on the ground and then diving to dig on Wei Wuxian’s hips non stop. Remind him what is actually a tickle attack so he would actually agree with his point and not poke fun at him just this once. Use the techniques that he took years to perfect and his muscles still remembered perfectly even when his mind refused to. Watch as that smug air in Lan Wangji changed to surprise when he got Wei Wuxian to really laugh and show all of them how right he was.

He crossed his arms even tighter around himself, growling harder and looking in another direction. His feet continued locked on the ground.

Unfortunately, Lan Zhang took the silence as an opportunity.

“Wei Ying is very cute and beautiful like this. Red and happy.”

“Lan Zhan! Warnings! You can’t say things like that without warning me first.” 

Jiang Cheng stopped right in his tracks and slowly turned to look at Wei Wuxian, time slowing as he realized what Lan Wangji had just said, barely processing the rest of their conversation. 

“Besides, I can think of something else that makes me very red and happy- Lan Zhan, no!”

“Shameless.”

“Husband, please, you’re killing meee!”

“Wei Ying.”

“Wait, wait, not there!”

It was true.

Jiang Cheng's eyes widened, but the image in front of him didn’t change. The other was right. 

Wei Wuxian was blushing in embarrassment. 

The color was not a fruit of his loud, unrestrained laughter, because for the last minutes all he did was giggle and snicker non stop, with plenty of oxygen and teases filling his lungs. It was not the result of any kind of flirt because Wei Wuxian took those as a challenge that he knew he would always win. It was not a make up he tried with Shijie. A natural consequence of spending an entire day under the sun training with his sword. It was nothing else. No other explanation besides the fact that, after thirty years, Jiang Cheng finally saw his brother get flustered. 

Embarrassed. 

Shy, even.

For the second time in his life, Jiang Cheng found Lan Wangji leaving him without words.

With a whoosh, he was out of the room.

[~*~]

“Good afternoon, Jiang Cheng.”

As it always did, a pleasant shiver ran on his body when Lan Xichen called him. All of his previous thoughts disappearing immediately from his head, his usual frown naturally losing the heat and annoyance as he looked at the other. 

Lan Huan looked as ethereal and beautiful as ever, the white robes and blue hues pooling like waves at his feet and around his straight posture as he wrote on his desk, probably answering letters from other sects and solving administration matters. His hair was slightly messed and he was only in his inner robes, completely comfortable and domestic, not batting a single eye when Jiang Wanyin barged right in.

Even after being together so long, the scene still looked gorgeous as it always did. Like it came right out a scenery painted in a fan that you hid in your robes and carried close to your heart. A picture drawn straight from the purest jade. He had seen it plenty of times before and hoped to continue to do so for much more.

It left Jiang Cheng breathless.

“I see you’re back early.”

And just like that, his breath and frown were back again. The one in purple robes scoffed and closed the door. He headed to the bed, sitting there with a grunt. 

“Not in the mood to watch Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji declare their undying love for each other for the hundredth time of the day.”

Lan Huan chuckled. It rang sweet like the bells the Yunmeng sect used to expurge curses and clean the mind. “I see. Perhaps it’s time to start closing your eyes, then?”

But the light tease didn’t actually register for him, because for a moment he looked at the other and another scene appeared in his mind as a flash. 

Lan Xichen’s smile growing bigger, wobbling at the corners as his controlled chuckles were transformed into bubbly giggles and loud snickers, his entire face covered by a layer of red that spread in a beautiful hue from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, his eyes - teary and brilliant and so full of love and feelings - watching him in excitement, protests that held no true meaning falling freely from his lips and locking Jiang Cheng’s gaze forever on him with how melodious it was.

As it was usual, his body and mouth were already acting even before his own mind catched up with it.

“I want to try something new.” He listened his own voice saying. Steps steady and determined carried him to the sect leader Lan and pulled him to his feet, basically dragging him back to his bed.

Lan Xichen didn’t yelp, but let out a tiny surprised sound when Jiang Cheng shoved (much gentler than anyone could ever believe him of being) him on the mattress, quickly straddling him and sitting on his thighs, storming gray eyes looking at him intensely, watching his every twitch and expression in search for any kind of discomfort. 

Of course, realizing that only made Lan Xichen melt, following the other’s lead easily.

(Not blindly, of course. )

(He sometimes wonders if he will ever be able to do so, ever again, but those are thoughts for other moments.) 

So he tilted his head and questioned to those brilliant eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

“I want…” And his face morphed, never losing its lines of determination and decision, but now being tinted in red as Jiang Cheng looked away from him, a very lovely blush taking over his face. His jaw locked and words quieter, as if they were being pushed through his teeth. There was shyness in his tune. “To tickle you.”

“Oh.” 

Lan Xichen tried to not sound too teasy, but he couldn’t really hide the playful amusement taking over his tune, his expression, his gaze, his everything after such an adorable admission. 

He didn’t really know what sputtered his lover’s mood all of sudden, but interacting with Wei Wuxian and his own brother always left Jiang Wanyin’s emotions all over the place. If what his beloved needed after this afternoon was to have him laughing hysterically until he was a mess, completely putty and willing under his strong and trustworthy hands, Lan Xichen hardly had any opposition to this.

(Which wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t look into some sweet… justice, later. Revenge is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, afterall.)

Tickling was always a concept that interested him immensely. The laughter full of joy and the touches that were both incredibly warm and completely unbearable, together with the playfulness of the teases and the care intertwined in every note of those steps made his heart softer and his stomach flutter pleasantly everytime such bonding activity was involved. Especially when it came to Jiang Cheng.

“Alright.” He said. “I won’t hold back, then.”

“You better not.” The one in purple bit back, but his words held no heat and there was a grateful line softening all of the hard edges in his body. He positioned his hands on Lan Huan’s ribs - a good starting point, not too ticklish so he would lose all his energy right in the beginning and yet effective enough that just with a few moments of drilling his laughter would already be bubbling out of his lips. 

Jiang Cheng felt how Lan Xichen tensed instinctively under him and he curled his fingers close, just enough for his nails would graze on his skin, actually giving him a reason to tense up this time and successfully pulling a squirm out of the Lan.

Perfect. He just needed to keep going like that. Soft and light. See for himself what is so special about this technique that it’s worth giving up the adrenaline of seeing someone become undone with only a few touches, to watch them get hysterical, loud, free with the more effective and energetic tickly ministrations. See how long would it take for his lover to become a total mess, to completely lose the battle against the sensations and just let himself be lost in a sea of giggles and blushes. 

Exactly. Just like that. 

Soft and light. 

Simple and clear as water.

His fingers didn’t want to move.

That was the thing, wasn’t it? 

Jiang Cheng wasn’t gentle. Nothing about him was soft, or light, or caring. His fingers were calloused and his skin thick after years of handling Zidian and its electricity, of carrying oars and rowing around the countless rivers in Lotus Pier and holding his weight in fights since he was a child, not at all skilled in the finest arts such as playing instruments skillfully like Lan Huan or painting beautiful landscapes as Nie Huaisang. 

His hands were the reason of more pain and tears than laughter and happiness. He was Sandu Shengshou and he carried that mantle with pride. It's what made him survive after the Wen’s massacre of his clan. It's what brought his entire sect rising back again, strong and new from the ashes and fire as he maintained every building, every alliance, every battle to prove their worth with his own sweat and blood, clawing, tearing and snarling his way up, up, up. Until Yunmeng was back to be one of the four most powerful and influential sects again. Until him, A-Ling and the entire world of cultivation had more than smoke and destruction to remember his family by. Until the other’s pity became respect and fear. It was what had been necessary at the time. He did what he had to.  

(It was what destroyed one of the last remnants of his family and pushed his brother far and away. What left him angry and frustrated behind, hitting back at anything that got too close, completely alone in the world except for a nephew that he had to raise, too young to even remember his parents. It was what consumed his every action and every thought and every lashing until there was nothing left except hope and resentment. 

And yet… He was still here. Trying. His nephew was now the leader of his own sect. Yet, he was blessed with Lan Xichen. Yet, his sect respects and grows under his direction and the rivers continue to flow and the lotus to bloom totally uncaring for the tribulations of his mind. Yet, his brother is finally back and they are still trying to fix all of that.)

(Trying.)

A hand pulled him right out of his merciless thoughts, smothering the hard lines of his frown. Lan Xichen’s eyes immediately found his own, staring at his surprised face for some seconds before lifting his torso and placing gentle kisses on his front, following the path of warmth and electricity that his touch had already started. 

The care and intimacy made Jiang Cheng scoff and frown again but now for an entirely different reason, momentarily rendered unable to move to hide his flaming face until the other decided that all the lines of his expression had been thoroughly kissed and smothered enough, no more darkness or doubt filling his gaze.

Clear enough from his previous thoughts, that only made him get even more determined about his decision, not shying away from the leader from Gusu Lan’s sect when those brown eyes focused on him, plenty comfortable to just lay there and exchange silences until Jiang Cheng could gather and organize his thoughts. 

“I want to be gentle.” He finally spit, words tumbling out of his lips before he could take them back. 

The eyes crinkled on the corners and seemed to shine brighter in understanding and then something else, so strong that made it impossible for him to keep holding his gaze, feeling strangely bashful under it. The feared Sandu Shengsou humphed and turned away his gaze, again.

…That wouldn’t work. He had to be able to watch and analyze his Lan Huan’s every tiny reaction, every quiet sound and every hint of movement to map all his best spots and what tickling worked best, with this new technique. He may not be totally sold to this entire idea of “soft touches” yet, but that was no excuse to not do a decent job. 

Jiang Cheng had never half assed any of the things he set his mind to do and he isn’t about to start doing that now.

He wasn’t sure of how successful he would be in that, however, when Lan Huan’s gaze kept capturing and rendering him defenseless with those beautiful stares again and again.

“Close your eyes.”

Lan Xichen arched an eyebrow, more amused than questioning, but he hesitated for half of a second. It was enough to make Jiang Cheng’s brain disconnect from his lips and words fall, blunt and true, from his mouth before he could stop them. 

“I can’t do it with you looking. It’s frustrating and distracting.” (Mesmerizing. Beautiful. The only thing I could look at for hours and hours at the time.)

Once more, the other’s brown eyes got filled with fun and something before he complied.

“Alright. I will be sure to give you my oral report in the most detailed and thorough manner as possible afterwards, of course.”

“Shut it.” Jiang Cheng digged on his ribs momentarily, a hot flush of pride spreading on his soul at how that made Lan Huan immediately jump, a surprised squeak filling the air and almost convincing the one in purple to throw away everything else and just dig more and more until those and other delightful sounds ran loud and free across the room.

But, no. Now, he had another objective.

He stopped pressing so firmly on the skin, leaving his fingers only resting on the spot before slowly running them up and down on his ribcage. 

Holding his breath, Lan Xichen waited. When no other attack came besides the soothing rubbing, his body inevitably relaxed little by little, melting with the ministrations. 

“That is very nice.” His words came out less jokingly than before, shining with genuinity. Of course, lying was forbidden in the Clouds Recesses, however, a direct honesty was a rare threat that Wanyin was more than happy to enjoy. “Mm.”

Jiang Cheng hummed in acknowledgement and continued with his touch. 

With no hurry, he took his time to let his fingers wander, lower enough to caress the dip of the other’s hips and then back up, deviating from his torso to massage his arms and shoulders and slightly press his thumbs in circling motions on the base of his neck. 

For a moment he mused letting his hands go even higher to cup his face so he could kiss it. That idea was fastly discarded, though, since Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he could quickly be dissuaded from his new experiment if they were to follow this path. Lan Xichen knew how to be very distracting when he wanted to.

His hands continued to wander on that very same path for a few more minutes and soon enough Lan Xichen felt himself even more relaxed, as if floating in clouds, not even bothered by the small sounds that kept being fished from his lips again and again as the soft touch kept slipping and brushing on every sensitive part of his body before continuing with its path. 

It was like Jiang Wanyin was mapping every single weak spot on his torso and purposely focusing on them with tiny scribbles and light scratches more and more. 

With each new repetition, Lan Huan could only feel the tingles spreading further across his nerves, teasing and tickling them for seconds after the caring, a tad unbearable touch of the other went away, only barely starting to subside before those playful fingers were back to alight them once more, making the tickly sensations grow stronger and never really end.

Therefore, his relaxed sounds quickly began being interrupted by huffs of laughter and tiny notes on the back of his throat that were starting to sound too much like high pitched giggles to be ignored or pushed away.

Lan Xichen was so lost in those thoughts that he barely registered as the hands came to a stop on his ribcage, spreading across his ribs and on those awfully sensitive places in between them. Not until small, extremely controlled and tiny sparks of electricity made him jump, pulling a surprised, and uncharacteristically loud shriek from him, his mind and body falling too quickly from the clouds for him to try to stop its escape.

Jiang Cheng chuckled darkly. 

“Oi, what was that?”

When he pressed his lips and didn’t answer, another spark of electricity teased the spot, and then another and another and another. Lan Huan felt himself grow giddier, not being able to help but squeak and yelp at each new attack on his poor ribs. 

“To think that only Zidian could have so much effect on the very own Zewu Jun. Maybe I should have tried to use it earlier if I knew it could make you squeal like that.” The feeling of giggles in the back of his throat came back with full force. He bit them back. “Tell me, Xichen, how much longer do you think you could take it before descending into madness? You’re barely surviving those few sparks as it is. What if I decided to wrap the Zidian around you and unleash all this new power. How much time do you think you would be able to hold your laughter back, then?”

His eyes were closed but Lan Xichen could feel the other’s gaze on him, staring unblinking and attentively, drinking up his every reaction. He knew he could see how the light burn of blush started to take over his ears and spread lower in his neck, how his torso squirmed instinctively with each word. In a desperate attempt of defense, he scrambled for anything before his brain, who was trying really, really hard to not think about Jiang Wanyin’s words or otherwise he would die, caught up into a cute, very special detail about this new tactic of his.

“Have,” he gulped, taking a few tries before his words could come out with just a slight tremble on them, hiding the persistent joyful energy that kept trying to take over. By the way that Jiang Cheng’s fingers digged on his ribcage and began vibrating in a low, warning pace, he wasn’t very satisfied with this. 

Still, no one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, even the most stubborn of their lovers. He continued.

“Have you been training harmless ways to use your Zidian lately, Sandu Shengshou?”

The fingers on his ribcage froze, and a very pointed silence followed his question. As a result, his smile got even bigger, making him want to open his eyes just to see the delightful effect of his words on his beloved. 

Lan Huan decided to push his luck a tad further, putting all the fondness and warmth he was feeling in his words and tune until it spilled in every syllable and letter. 

“To think my dear Jiang Wanyin could be so attentive and cute. Must have taken a lot of time and practice to achieve a fine skill like this one.” Then, with a more innocent tune. “I would love to hear all about how you accomplished such a dangerous feat to perfection all by yourself. How much restraint it must have taken.”

The implications were clear, even if he didn’t say anything else out loud, pulling his sleeved hand up to cover his playful grin. 

Jiang Cheng felt his entire body, from his tip of his nose to the end of his fingers, burn, flustered, when he remembered all those times he had to test the technique on himself, learning how to control the power he could use in each attack. It took weeks until he had perfected the new tactics and made those tiny sparks spread a maddening, tickling feeling across every sense and a giggle sprouted in his mouth. 

Only then he allowed himself to try it on others. Sneaking a few electric pokes and jabs to hit his disciples once or twice while correcting their forms during the training and watching them or jump away surprisingly or try to hide their initial squeaky reaction, especially under his usual frowning, serious gaze. It was the only way to be sure that it worked, of course. 

So much work only so he could surprise his family in a future tickle fight, having now a new trick under his sleeve to put in good use.

Jiang Cheng growled in answer to the tease and his fingers crawled higher, filled with electricity while poking and prodding all their way up the other’s torso until it stopped just a few inches from his armpits. He watched with satisfaction the way that just the hint of his hands there made Lan Xichen wiggle like a worm from one side to another. Plenty of poorly concealed snickery titters filled the room the entire time, his hand shooting down again, showing his smile once more.

(Really, who did Lan Xichen think he could fool with this? Hadn’t he been the one to say he wouldn’t hold back? And yet he kept concealing smiles and holding up his laughter in every way. Hmph.)

(Nevertheless, Jiang Cheng couldn’t really say that the prospect of breaking his barriers bit by bit until he could no longer hold back his every giggle, chuckle, crackle and squeal didn’t fill him with new fierce, unwavering determination to keep going.)

“You want to talk about restraint, then?” Jiang Wanyin snarked, getting closer and feeling incredibly smug when that succeeded in turning Lan Xichen’s grin much wobblier and shakier.

His smirk shone, taking over his entire expression, sharp enough for the other to feel it without needing to see. 

“I have a challenge. To see how much of your giant and stubborn self control will save you when you’re completely at my mercy.” 

His words were taunting and, still, Lan Xichen couldn’t even pretend to feel truly threatened by them. 

Somehow, his thoughts must have shown on his face because Jiang Wanyin let out those fond huffs he always did when he thought someone was being too cute for no reason and his tune got into a mix of soft and exasperated. 

“But, if you’re already giddy and giggling like this-” to highlight his words he suddenly pressed on the pits, making a snort explode from him, his bubbly snickers that the other just described jumping on his throat and begging to be set free. The burn of his ears was back. “When I have barely even done anything? Maybe it won’t be a challenge at all. I didn’t even get to start with the real tickling and you already look so close to losing.”

Maybe it was the playfulness. Maybe it was how at ease and safe he felt around the other. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the new game. The joy of seeing how much fun Jiang Cheng was having, how vocal he was being about it. However, for once, Lan Huan didn’t even think twice about the words that were falling from his mouth.

“I am still not laughing right now, though. Am I, Jiang Cheng?”

There was a quick, sharp intake of breath and some seconds of dangerous silence. Lan Xichen felt the hair on the nape of his neck standing and a small hum of electricity charged the air.

A low, raspy chuckle that sounded so close to him made a kind of energy that had nothing to do with the Zidian run like crazy across his spine, sending all his nerves into a frenzy and his mind to tip the abyss of incoherency. Two hands laid on his wrists and started to pull them upwards until they rested nicely above his head, leaving his entire torso free from any form of defense.

His voice was really, really close.

“Don’t you dare to put them down or I won’t hold back.”

Having already played too much with fire, Lan Huan only nodded, letting the other concentrate once again in his attack. He took a deep breath and buried his reactions and snickers deep inside, relaxing his muscles and reining his expression and soul back into a calm and serene appearance, as if he was just getting ready for another afternoon of meditating.

Very well, if this was a challenge, he might as well give his best.

(No one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, afterall.)

Jiang Wanyin went back to a more upright position and stopped for a few seconds, eying the arms in front of him with a concentrated consideration. 

Unexpectedly, he remembered a game that his Shiejie used to play with him when he was being too grumpy as a kid, which was, non-surprisingly, more often than not. The pang on his chest that always came when he thought about her didn’t feel as painful as it normally did, not when he was surrounded by Lan Xichen’s warmth and presence, when there was too much joy and happiness going around. It did, though, gave him an idea.

He laid one finger on the center of the other’s slender palm, and slowly started to swirl his digit over its lines and curves. The muscles under it trembled and his sharp attention was quick to capture how it made Lan Huan’s breath hitch for a moment before it went back to normal, face as calm as ever. 

Jiang Cheng felt like a predator, slowly backing his prey into a corner. 

Carefully, he continued drawing spirals on the skin, doing a couple of them before going up to lightly scribble at each finger, being careful to keep the touches light and soft as he went descending to the wrist. Every single inch of it got a good skittering and a few more swirls, dancing fingers continuing to follow their path. 

Getting to the forearm, Jiang Wanyin changed the pace of his fingers and the pressure of his touch, now focusing and curling more his fingers and letting his nails drag themselves freely across his skin. Goosebumps follows his tickles, especially as he decided to take a break on the inner part of Lan Xichen’s elbow and dance, scratch and scribble on the most sensitive spots he found until now, quiet as ever as he used every ounce of his attention to catch and internally cherish every surprised, barely audible huff and puff of snickers from his lover with the breakeaned pattern.

The path across his biceps was even slower, with him doing everything to drag the moment for as long as he could before arriving at his primer destination: the armpit. His hand rested there, not even twitching as he saw Lan Huan hold his breath, waiting in expectation for his next move.

Because it would be foolish to think he wouldn’t have another one prepared. That he wasn’t as expectant as Lan Xichen himself for the moment that the dam would finally break and his usual merciless and energetic tickle attack would be unleashed upon every single tickle spot. 

But Jiang Cheng was feeling mischievous. The game had barely begun, afterall. 

So, with his other free hand, he started repeating the same tickly treatment on his other palm, and thinking that was it, Lan Xichen allowed himself to exhale, gathering his strength to keep up with the challenge, feeling a bit more confident for it, since now he already had an idea of what was going to happen.

That was until the leader of Yunmeng sect began pinching his armpit and a sharp gasp was suddenly ripped from him. His arms twitched downwards and his head turned just half of an inch to the side, cheeks puffing just the tiniest bit with barely concealed sounds before it all turned back to normal, his face going back to a serene, unbothered mask. 

Still, no small details escaped Jiang Cheng’s attentive gaze: the way that his fingers curled every time he hit a sweet spot, how the skin around his eyes crinkled when a playful poke hit his pit, and, especially, how red his ears were getting, the color starting to spill to his neck with each passing second. 

This was fine. 

Jiang Wanyin could be patient. Precise. Unwavering. 

There was one yet to be born who was able to win against him when it came to stubbornness.

Therefore, he continued his double attack, assaulting the defenseless armpit with gentle, quick pinches that felt like tiny kisses on his skin at the same time that his other hand concentrated all the skittering and dancing on the other ticklish arm. 

The longer he went, the more his tranquil façade began to slip, each and every single occasion being followed by way too smug chuckles that made Lan Huan both want to kiss his lover, let everything go and let himself giggle non stop or even worse: whine in protest. 

The thing that Lan Xichen failed to consider when accepting this challenge was a very simple one: he did not realize how absolutely maddening and unbearably quiet this all would be. 

Silence had never bothered him, of course. Yet, right now it only left him with no other option but to concentrate on everything happening around him: on the way his lover kept scribbling, pinching and poking his tickle spots calmly without ever, ever moving away. On the soft tingling touches following his every twitch. In those attentive eyes that kept watching his every reaction, every move and smile. All of his sharky intakes of breath, gasps, yelps and quiet snickers seemed to resonate in his ears and across the room like they were being amplified. There was only one thing that interrupted them:

Jiang Wanyin’s teases.

“What?” Said one taunted as he finally, finally decided to move on from his poor armpits. His relief, though, was very short when he pressed on his higher ribs and vibrated. Lan Huan’s back arched and a snort almost broke his barriers. “You thought it was over? Not so soon, I still have much, much more places to explore. Is the challenge getting too hard for you already?”

He didn’t answer, too much concentrated in keeping his composure as those horrible, unfair and worming fingers quickly scrambled to wiggle on the base of his spine, their light scratches making him want to jump from his skin. His body tried to move both far away and much closer from the sensation. 

“I can see your arms coming down, Lan Huan. Keep them up, I said. Have you forgotten about my promise that quickly or are you testing me? Do you really want me to destroy you with tickles that bad?”

Lan Xichen held his breath and squirmed lightly in the same place. Usually Jiang Wanyin’s merciless teasing was accompanied by an equally ruthless tickling that would leave him laughing hysterically, too occupied with his own inelegant and extremely loud crackling to even think too much about his words. As they were right now, however, he was just unable to tune every provocation and every tickle out. 

Even if he stopped pressing his lips so tightly and let his control crumble, the leader of Lan Sect was pretty sure that his bubbly giggles and childish squeaks wouldn’t even come close to subdue his lover’s sentences. No one could ever dream of being able to outshout the very own Sandu Shengshou, afterall.

Those hands crept higher, jumping from his spine to press on each and every rib on its way for so quickly, so, so fast that the touch only lasted a few seconds before the fingers scrambled away as if his skin was made of fire. The pokes came one after the other in a rapid succession that teased and left more ticklish sparks across every nerve. At this point he couldn’t even distinguish if Jiang Cheng was using the Zidian or if all the anticipation and gentle scribbles made him infinitely more ticklish, muscles tensing and trembling with every touch.

Lan Xichen found himself on the brick of letting his control go and his snickers and chuckles free. His arms and armpits still tingled from the previous attack and every instinctive twitch of his torso made a new wave of phantom tickles tease them, his entire body feeling just like a giant, ticklish spot. 

His lips were wobbly and a smile was finally able to blossom on them.

His arms went down.

“Lan Huan,” Jiang Wanyin warned once more. 

A single finger began scribbling and prodding at his spine, way too close from his shoulderblades too be a coincidence and Lan Xichen wanted to kick out the pent up energy that didn’t stop flooding his veins. His back once more arched a piece of time longer than the previous time. Lan Huan caught himself and forced it to relax again into the laying position, bringing it right back to the assaulting finger. It was quite counterproductive, since it made him want to squirm away all over again. “Put your arms back up.”

Lan Xichen felt like he had all the reason for the pout he showed the other, still he hid it all the same behind one of his sleeves. 

There was simply no warning before the hand on his spine pressed on and drummed in a full attack on the spot, making his entire body spasm with the force of the crackle he had to hold, torso squirming away but unable to truly escape from the tickles.

Jiang Cheng’s previous other free hand latched on his side and began squeezing. His entire body now bounced, cheeks puffed out with all the laughing being held inside. Still, no sound left him. Thoughts and feeling zig zagged in his mind in a totally undignified frenetic manner that would certainly make his uncle and the elders of the clan go into qi deviation if they knew.

“I told you, didn’t I? Arms up, Lan Huan.”

Lan Xichen kicked, pressed his hand firmly on his mouth and squirmed on the same place, feeling like laughter was about to break and fill the entire room in any second now. He managed to endure a total of half of a minute before his arms were shooting upwards again and, just as fast, the hands there were just now mercilessly assaulting his ticklish with all the kneading and drilling of an energetic tickle attack, went back to caressing softly at his skin. 

He quietly muffled a tiny, surprised squeak. Somehow the light, sweet scratches felt even more awfully tickly now than before and Lan Huan barely had any willpower left to keep his bubbly, high pitched reactions inside as he tried to take his breath back.

“I can see your barrier cracking.” Jiang Cheng’s voice was suddenly horribly close and he hummed in response to the teasy words. No matter how giggly and silly he sounded now or how fireflies batted their wings like crazy in his belly or how his lips couldn’t stop curling upwards and his face started getting redder than ever. It was only a hum. “I can see how your eyes crinkle and how your smile grows bigger and bigger with every tiny, smallest move of my fingers. I can feel how your muscles tremble under them, before you regain your control and force them to relax. I can hear your giddiness and how you hold your breath every time I find a new defenseless, sensitive spot. I know how it’s taking longer and longer for you to gather your restrain and hide all of these little details.”

At that, he purposely focuses his attention in prodding and wiggling his fingers in the place where Lan Huan’s stomach and side meet, pulling another loud snort from him. 

“And,” Jiang Cheng continues, his usual rough tune coming out like a pleased purring of a predator that circles his prey. “Above it all, I can see how you try to move your face away from me, Lan Huan. But you’re not getting away. No. Not after all the effort I used here and not until I get to see how much of a laughing, blushing mess I can make our elegant Zewu Jun to be. Until you won’t be able to look at me without feeling giggles filling your throat and a smile taking over your face. Until I get to hear every squeal, every snicker, every delightful, uncontrollable reaction you have to offer.”

Lan Xichen felt like he was going to explode. The gentle tickling continued as slow and as light as always, sweet and lovely as if nothing had happened at all, in a total contrast from the absolutely unmerciful and on point that it was every tease. Each word seemed to hit his sensitive ears and coax him closer to giving up from a challenge that he never really cared about in the first place. 

Jiang Wanyin seemed very aware of all of this. The leader of the Lan Sect wondered when did they become so crystal clear to each other.

“And then, when all of your barriers break, when your self control and restraint can no longer save you from me, I will keep on tickling, keep on teasing and keep on getting all of your smiles, squirms and giggles, over and over and over again.”

A quick pinch kissed his hips and Lan Huan let a giggle escape from his lips.

And then another and another and another. Suddenly, the room was filled by a high pitched, quick and loud giggling fit that he hardly indulged in his daily life, making his ears feel like they were on fire when, with each passing second, they only continued to grow more uncontrollable and ring louder, being interrupted only by a couple of snorts before continuing their song and dance.

A white flash suddenly appeared in Jiang Wanyin’s field of vision and in a blink those long sleeves were concealing his lover’s smile again. 

Jiang Cheng huffed, rolling his eyes at the sudden bashfulness of the other and Lan Xichen didn’t need to open his to see the fondly exasperated grin that always accompanied those moments. 

After a few pieces of second when he saw that the other wouldn’t really move, the one in purple robes tried to take his arms away from his face. However, the Lan simply dodged from his grip, giving Jiang Cheng only a glimpse of that full dazzling smile before it was gone again, sleeves fluttering skillfully in and out of his hold when he kept trying to push them out of the way.    

"Stop hiding your face!" For once his exclamation didn’t even pretend to sound annoyed, the threat hidden in his words losing any and every heat as it got mixed with a bark of laughter. “Wasn’t you the one who was all about not holding back just minutes ago?”

Lan Xichen merely chuckled. Jiang Cheng kept fighting to pin, once more, his energetic arms.

In the end, he was successful, of course. 

His lover had been barely trying, afterall.

Still, he felt a tad breathless, little from the quick roughhousing and much more because he was suddenly hit by the full image of Lan Huan’s handsome, gorgeous face. He could feel his own skin heat up as he momentarily froze in the same place.

Lan Xichen lightly pulled his arms in protest, unaware of the other’s struggles. "It's stronger than me!" He giggled a defense and the way that it sounded like it was only two seconds from becoming a screech broke Jiang Wanyin out of it.

Once again, a huff left his mouth.

The hands stopped their dance on his hips. It took three heartbeats, but Lan Xichen felt his pinned wrists being pressed a bit stronger on the mattress and the weight on his thighs shifted forward. If that hadn’t indicated that the Yumeng sect leader moved closer, the voice hitting his absurdly red ear certainly would. 

“You know who else is stronger than you?”

There was a hint of a growling in his tune that made bells ring in alarm in his mind, nerves getting alight with electricity. 

For a moment he almost gave up and opened his eyes, wanting to see what was happening, but the anticipation on the air was already stronger and Xichen wanted to hear where it would go if he didn’t tip it any further. The hands on his wrists gave them a squeeze that was both too much of a warning to be a purely comforting touch and way too soft to match the threatening tune that fell from Jiang Wanyin's lips. 

“Me.” 

His breath now teased the skin of his neck, making electricity to fly across the tickle spots to his mouth, expanding his smile. "So I will repeat myself just this last time: keep your arms here, nice and far away from that pretty face, or I will do it for you. Deal?" 

Lan Xichen’s snickering now had less to do with the tickles and, just for the fun of it, he tipped his head to the side, as if thinking about his answer. 

(If that opened the path of his neck for more attacks, it was simply a coincidence. He hummed a not-so-controlled giggle when his lover caved to the cute sign and laid a quick kiss on the base of his jaw. Good, he was starting to think he would have to pout for it.) 

He could feel those gray eyes glued on him as the silence stretched and the squeezing of his hands quickly changed to a firmer hold of his wrists in an answer of a question that hadn’t even been voiced in the first place. 

"Oi, I am going to break your legs!” This time, Lan Huan really couldn’t help the playful tilt of his tune as the snickers grew to full chuckling, his reactions being totally unleashed and all over the place. They sounded just the tiniest bit hysterical, but the teasingness of it couldn’t really be ignored. Jiang Wanyin made it too easy. “Tsk. I thought it was against the great Gusu Lan's rules to be impolite. Disrespecting and leaving another Sect Leader without an answer is an offense that is not taken lightly." 

Truly, the words had slipped from Lan Xichen’s lips even before he could truly ponder about them.

"Maybe some people just like to think before answering, Wanyin." 

(Lan Xichen ignored the irony.)

Before the other's growl could become stronger and his hands got free for the only purpose of absolutely destroying him with tickles until he took every single syllable back, Lan Xichen quickly lifted his torso and planted a giggly, placating kiss on his cheek, opening his eyes just about time to see that lovely red blossoming across Jiang Wanyin’s entire face. 

With his expression completely relaxed, the surprise and fluster successfully whipped away the frown that naturally appeared anytime he was provoked. 

With this, truly, Lan Huan couldn't really be blamed for the other couple of pecks he stole before the feared Sandu Shengsou came back from the surprise and turned away, hair falling in front of his face in a poor attempt to hide it while his hands continued to rend him immobile. 

"I will keep my arms up." He chipped, because even with his pokes of fun, the feeling that he would never be able to see Jiang Cheng’s hands getting close again without breaking into a sea of crackling snickers and the phantom tingling that kept playing with his nerves like a guqin, he was still having too much fun playing with this new side of his lover and he would actually hate to take the teases too far. 

"Feeling very confident today, aren’t you?" Lan Xichen felt his eyes widen. There was simply no other way to describe it, but when the other’s gaze fell on him, it could only describe them as hungry. 

"Let's see how much breath you'll have to tease me when we're done." 

Just like that, those hands were back, making him want to curl into a ball when, even after everything, no energetic, quick and destroying tickle attack assaulted his hips in a kneading, clawing and drilling dance that he knew so well and prepared for. A kind of attack that would have him lose control and laugh immediately, not caring at all about rules or pretenses for minutes at time.

Instead, this touch was light, traveling across his sides. It wiggled and scratched at any and every inch of skin, careful to not forget a single spot. 

Remembering Jiang Wanyin's first request, he closed his eyes, trying his best to not take the other's example and try to hide his own blushing face behind the curtains of his own hair. The tiny, unusual giggles flooding and spilling from his lips hysterically were back. 

They continued like that for a couple of minutes, Jiang Cheng actually feeling impressed with how Lan Xichen kept his arms - shaking in a far image from the how composed they were in the beginning of the game - up the entire time, especially as his pokes and pinches now deliberately focused on the most ticklish spots, wiggling and skittering more and more frequently as the seconds ticked by.

It didn’t take too long before he started feeling antsy. With all his lover’s most sensitive and weak spots being successfully mapped out so he could focus entirely on them and with the challenge no longer running there wasn’t a lot to focus besides the extremely cute reactions of his beloved, which was something he could indeed watch forever, but also something that he knew he could make it become even more adorable. That nagging feeling that he just needed to do something kept him agitated.

Usually, with his usual ruthless attacks, that would be the moment he would find himself spilling how precious and important Lan Huan was to him. How his presence warmed the coldest of the nights and his smiles brightened the greyest of his days. In those moments, though, his words were accompanied by a loud crackling or hysterical laughter, making it impossible for the other to even see how much vulnerable he decided to be. 

It was easier this way, when he was sure that his beloved wouldn’t take the chance to start praising him and make him freeze, or even worse, stutter over his words, quickly turning the tables about who the blushing mess was. 

(Gods, Huan was simply merciless when he stuttered, throwing one praise after another in a quick succession before he could even think of getting his footing again, refusing to not let the full extension of his own affection to show with his, as well.)

Jiang Cheng was definitely not a fool to even think to start, in that sweet, calm pace of the melodious giggling fit, a battle he knew he would not win.

Technically, he knew that Lan Xichen in no way minded the silence, he was the brother of Lan Wangji, after all. Yet, he found himself thinking about some other tease, a game or anything he could say or do to see which more reactions he could get.

At the sudden thought of his brother in law, an idea appeared in his mind. A kind of… provocation he saw him using earlier, if he could even call it that. 

It was silly, but it was worth a try.

He lowered his voice in a tune he knew that it affected the other immensely, raspy and paused. 

“Lan Huan.”

“Yes?”

The answer was as quick and eager as ever, no tilt of playfulness of flustering falling from it. Embarrassedly, Jiang Cheng felt his face get on fire.

(How would he know that this wouldn’t work! When he himself still felt as defenseless and soft as the first time Sect Leader Lan used his given name when he continued using it every single day?)

“Wanyin?” Lan Xichen tried again when no answer came, opening his eyes only to see the other quickly deviate his gaze, blush deep in his face, a giant pout resting on his lips. It only made him laugh harder, albeit confusedly.

“Nothing.” He grumbled. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not important.”

Lan Huan opened his mouth to disagree that there wasn’t anything unimportant when it came to Jiang Cheng when the assaulting hand decided that this was the perfect moment to claw on his belly, drumming and scratching fingers way too close to his bellybutton to be a coincidence. A shriek cut his thought process and opened the gates for all the high pitched series of squeaks that left his lips, snickery fit growing up a notch.

“Jiang Wanyin!” He protested at the clear attempt of distraction, refusing to break contact and close his eyes again. 

That is how he managed to see the exact moment Jiang Cheng faltered for a second with his words. Suddenly the redness of his face was painting from the tip of his ears to the tip of his nose and a shudder clearly went through him. Tiny pinches, much quicker and persistent than before, as if demanding his attention, began traveling all across his stomach.

He giggled hysterically. Yet refusing to stop until he discovered what was that about.

“Jiang Cheng!”

His eyebrows furrowed in pure concentration, which gave the Lan a fun contrast with the giant smile plastered in his expression. 

“Sush. It was nothing.”

Why was he reacting like this? Nothing had happened in those last moments and all Lan Xichen did was…

Wait. Could it be…

“Jiang Cheng?” He pushed the words through his high pitched giggles again, not caring how each syllable was completely consumed by his giddy, bubbly and quite silly reactions.

Jiang Wanyin couldn’t stop the way that his blush worsened at this crawling to his neck. His lover’s entire face brightened in understanding.

“Jiang Cheng!” Lan Huan looked like a kid being presented with his favorite toy as a gift. His voice was absolutely delighted, joyful and completely unbothered about how adorable and sweet he made Jiang Cheng’s name sound like this. His tittering and chuckling painted every syllable and sound in a maddening manner that made Jiang Cheng feel like he could keep tickling and listening to it forever. 

It was a dangerous weapon. 

He sticked his finger on his bellybutton in retaliation, scratching the walls and prodding the spot in a way that he knew would make the other go insane with ticklish sensations.

Those chuckles quickly evolved to a loud, belly laughter. 

Lan Huan’s back arched with the new attack and slammed back on the mattress, legs kicking uncontrollably at the sensations. In an alarming sign, Jiang Cheng saw him opening his mouth and quickly sent his other free hand to dig and drum on the rest of his stomach, spidering, squeezing and kneading everywhere he could touch in hopes of making him lose his breath. 

And still… 

“Jiang Wanyin! Jiang Cheng! Cute Cheng!”

Each word was shouted in joy, nothing like the usual calm and proper way Lan Xichen usually held himself. With his heart melting and his chest feeling just like it would explode, Jiang Cheng decided, he has no other option, truly. 

In a swift and quick movement, he freed his hands and turned around, latching on his knees and squeezing.

The sound that came out of the other’s mouth cut across the entire mountain chain, a mix of a shriek and loud crackling filling the air immediately. Jiang Cheng almost stopped right on his tracks with the sheer volume and force of it, quickly turning back to see Lan Xichen completely boneless on the mattress, head thrown back, mouth open wide and eyes crinkling in the corners as squeals and chortles mingled with his unstoppable laughing fit.

It did nothing to stop the warmth filling his soul.

Lan Huan could barely think about anything else but the tickles, how they demanded every ounce of his attention, took over his every thought and danced in every nerve, especially when those playful hands decided to wiggle their way to under his knees and scribble on the horrible, awfully sensitive soft skin there as if their lives depended on it, drumming and scratching non stop.

Well, he had quite asked for this.

Still, when a couple of curious tickly sparkles touched his knees and made all of his senses explode in tingles and laughter and tickles and snorts and tickles, his body automatically jumped to a sitting position and his arms engulfed the other, face immediately hiding on his back in a poor attempt to muffle a loud screech. 

The sparkles, squeezing and drumming continued for gods know how long. Lan Xichen could feel his entire body bounce with the force of each one of his crackles, giggling and squeaks. Jiang Cheng’s own amused chuckles accompanied his, even if the Lan wasn’t really able to make out the teasing words he uttered from time to time and made his back rumble, too occupied in feeling like he was going mad with tickling.

His body moved before his mind, once more. In a blink he was crackling too much to keep himself upwards and in the other he was smashing his lips against Jiang Cheng’s and muffling his laughter until the assault of his worst spot stopped and his reactions lowered to a string of non-stop snickers.

Jiang Cheng scoffed, but turned himself around and adjusted his pose so they could continue the new activity more comfortably.

Lan Xichen jolted and grinned in a truly ungraceful manner when those two hands came to rest on his sides, but they only rubbed firmly on the skin, the new giggles created by the scare being quickly kissed away as the other refused to let Lan Xichen be distracted by anything else that wasn’t him.

It didn’t take long before he melted completely again, his arms coming to rest on Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders and the blush painting his ears now for a completely different reason.

They separated to take a few gulps of air, lingering smiles and shining gazes focused on each other for a few moments. Already recovered, Lan Xichen found himself diving right back in, locking their lips together and pressing closer and closer.

That is, until the traitors, lying hands on his sides, digged on the sensitive spot with all their might. His arms came crashing down and his body tried to curl in a defensive ball, but it was already too late. A new round of loud laughter spilled from his lungs and jumped excitedly from his tongue, filling the room once more in a high pitched tune.

He couldn’t really help the squeal and trashing when Wanyin made sure to whisper the teasing growl next to his ear, again, voice still breathless from all their kissing. “You really thought that that would work, huh? That it would be so easy to distract me? Just a few pecks, then I would forget everything and you would be free to go and be a teasing bastard all over again.” He chuckled and rested his mouth on the base of his neck, every word rumbling and tickling. “I told you before, didn’t I? You will be at my mercy until you have no more breath left to provoke me ever again. I never go back on my word.”

And then he promptly began delivering a giant, unending raspberry on his neck.

Lan Xichen laughed and laughed and laughed for some more minutes until there were tears prickling the corner of his eyes and hiccups began ringing together with his giggles.

The very moment those appeared, though, the playful hands immediately stopped their playful assault to massage and rub softly until the leftover tingles disappeared. The raspberries metamorphosed to pecks and kisses all over his face that got him melting on the spot in no more than a couple of seconds, shoulders still lightly bouncing with the ligering tittering that followed them.

Silence stretched across them like dogs and bunnies usually do, on their lazy days.

“Jiang Cheng.” 

“Hm?”

Lan Xichen waited until those gray eyes were on him and let his smile shine unashamedly. His lover huffed, fond.

“Should this one give you the report now, Sandu Shengshou?”

“Oh, shut up.”

The sect leader Lan chuckled.

That was the only warning Jiang Cheng had before, in an elegant flash of white, he found his entire world spinning until his back hit the mattress and his hands were firmly held above his head. A weight settled on his thighs, pinning him on the spot. Those brown, crinkling eyes were now just inches from his face.

He tried to squirm and pull his arms down, but the grip was as moving as the mountains that surrounded the Cloud Recesses.

“Since my report won’t be necessary, maybe I can explore other… techniques to show you my observations and feelings?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened with understanding. He tried harder to free his arms to at least have a lieu of a shield to protect his currently defenseless tickle spots. His mouth was already betraying him, his lips wobbly turning upwards.

Lan Xichen kept watching him, serene, no hurry at all. 

“They do say that there is no stronger way to bond than to share similar experiences and I would be happy to assist in yours .”

“Lan Huan! Don’t! Do not dare!”

He trashed and buckled, squashing as much as he could the already bubbling titters filling his chest, the kind face above him seeing right through his frown - in the way that he called Lan Xichen by his birth name, how the Zidian didn’t crackle or activate like it did when his master was in danger, in the softness still lingering on him, the excited glint in his gaze, in the very same way that they already had this song and dance plenty of times before - and so effortlessly continued to pin him on the mattress, winking before starting to lower his face, bit by bit.

“Lan Huan, I’m warning you! I will-”

“I love your smile.” The sentence was calm and playful, but Jiang Cheng’s voice still got caught in his throat, frozen. Both because of his words and the tiny, careful and light nibble that hit the ticklish back of his ear, barely pecking the skin over and over again. “I love how beautiful and cute it is, when it’s tiny or big,” Another nibble. “When it’s soft or determined.” Another one. “When you’re aware of it or not.” Another. Another. Another.

“Shuhuhut up!”

Amidst his demand Jiang Cheng let out an uncharacteristic snort.

An answering chuckle rang like a bell and set his cheeks ablaze, stretching his grin wider as he turned his face to press it firmly on his shoulder. The other’s breath made him lift his shoulder in an attempt of defense, only for the ministrations to change to his other ear, more praises and loving teases pouring like rain and making him feel more and more silly, tickly, shy.

(Loved). 

He endured exactly three more compliments (he had to put a stop when Lan Xichen started to point out how he went out of the way to take care and make little nice gestures that should go unnoticed because they’re not a big deal at all!) before snapping, again, with no heat.

“Why don’t you stop saying nonsense,” he tried squirming and scrunching his neck, but the other only hummed dangerously in warning, making tingles and tickly shocks spread like flames on his nerves. He attempted to control the snicker painting his words, unsuccessfully. “And put your mouth to good use?”

“So demanding…”

Still, Lan Xichen acquiesced and took a deep breath. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes, preparing for the killer raspberry that would come and finally put him out of his suffering.

Only for a continued, light gush of air hit his skin, pulling those low, anticipatory giggles from him.

“Soon, Wanyin. First, I must tell you all the endearing, lovely things about you that keep making me swoon and fall in love all over again while I watch this blush take over your beautiful, adorable face. Then, after I’m done, you're going to tell me all of your favorite spots for the day and I will tickle every single one of them, maybe using that delightful technique you just spent so long teaching me all about today, maybe testing how loud and carefree I can make you sound. What do you think?"

Lan Xichen yelped and jolted away when harmless sparks hit both of his hands, making them tingle and automatically let go of the other, which was enough for him to dislodge the Lan from his spot with a hard buckle, throwing him back on the mattress and quickly turning around to run away from the bed.

Before he succeeded, however, Lan Huan jumped and locked his hand on his wrist, maintaining his grip even when Jiang Cheng twisted it left and right and pulling him closer and making the one in purple robes lose his footing.

He then quickly adjusted himself on the bed so the other would fall right on his side and Lan Xichen could quickly finish this game of cat and mouse. 

However, Jiang Cheng used the impulse to turn around and barrel him on the mattress, limbs getting entangled as both of them get lost in giggles, playful growls and some non heated pushing and pulling each other around.

It took a few minutes until he finally had the opening he was waiting for. Brown eyes shone when Jiang Cheng got distracted, too proud of managing to get on top of him during the brawl. With a fast swipe, one of his hands captured the other’s wrist and pulled upwards. His legs did a quick word in locking themselves around the other’s one pair. Unbalanced, Jiang Cheng fell on his chest with a shout and his free hand held his waist close, body rolling and putting Lan Xichen right on top, again. 

Hair fell on his face in a mess of untamed strands as his erratic breath matched Wanyin’s, smiles shining bright. He could feel the way that his ribbon was crooked on his forehead and his usual pristine robes got wrinkles. None of those details went unnoticed by Jiang Cheng, who smirked at him with a sharp smugness, even if his general state was just as bad.

Lan Xichen almost kissed him again.

Instead, though, he took a deep breath, reigning the joyful smile in his face and the childish snickers playing in his throat. 

When he opened his eyes, there was now a honed resolutioness on them, his smile became a smirk and his face got closer to the other. 

"Do that again and I will have to put my sect’s ribbon and spells to a good use.” As always, his voice rang light and sweet, but with an undertone of something low and dangerous that made the very own Sandu Shengshou shiver. “Alright?”

It was not a question.

Lan Xichen nuzzled his neck sweetly. “Thank you for expanding my collection even more with all your wonderful reactions.” 

Oh, gods, Jiang Cheng realized with wide, excited eyes. He was going to die, wasn’t he?

“Shall we begin?”

[~*~]

Random Thoughts:

Jiang Cheng, watching Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan: urg, look at them, so head over the heels for each other, absolutely shameless, no respect at all for anyone who is near. It’s like they have no sense of self preservation at all

Lan Xichen: a

Jiang Cheng: Oh my goddd it’s Lan Xichen hi hi hiiiii <3 <3 :3 <3

~~

Jiang Cheng to me is just aaaaa! The fact that he hates Wei Wuxian and keeps guarding his flute even after 13 years. The way that he follows Jin Ling in his every night hunt. How he was the only one to not chase Wei Wuxian when his identy was revealed. He handing Jin Ling the Zidian just like his mother did to him

I keep thinking about a continuation where, while they're still starting to get closer, Wei Wuxian start having more tickle fights in front of Jiang Cheng - both attacking Lan Yuan, Lan Jingyi or his own husband - until he finally has enough of him looking so gloom and doom everytime he does so and decides to take the matter into his own hands <3

Look, I'm going to be honest, I just need more of everyone in mdzs laughing, playing and being silly, okay? I need more of that happiness and if for that I need to write my own content and spend hours daydreaming about them in cute tickle scenarios so be it <3 <3 peace and love on planet earth

Maybe I will write something with the juniors in the future? Add some pure, playful and joyful fluff in the story. They are just way too precious and def deserve some more laughing in their lives. And Wei Wuxian just have such perfect, amazing tickle monster vibes iugtfrdefrgyu

Also, enjoy this amazing video of Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen that I can't stop thinking about.

#Maybe I got some names wrong jugfdedfgh I am still getting used to them and it's been very interesting so far! #Ticklish!Lan Xichen #Lee!Lan Huan #Lee!Lan Xichen #Ler!Jiang Cheng #Brief Lee!Wei Wuxian and Ler!Lan Zhan #Brief Ler!Lan Xichen and Lee!Jiang Cheng #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #THAT ALMOST COSTED MY SOUL BUT IT'S FINALLY DONE LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO #Gosh. Everytime I think about Jiang Cheng I just remember that quote that is like 'there ws love. it didn't change anything. it didn't save #-anyone. but there was love and that is important.' #dead on the floor sobbing #ANYWAY DID YOU REALIZE HOW AFTER JIANG CHENG JUDGED WEI HE ALMOST ENDED UP RESTRAINED LIKE HIM??? TEHEE THE HYPOCRESY TEHEE #The Lans are simply something else indeed. how much stamina can a single body contain #Wei and Lan wasn't even supposed to appear for so much but I started thinking about Wei giggling while Zhan looks at him in complete awe #and then when I woke up there was like 3000 words on the doc. crazy how life happens fr fr #mdzs tickles #mdzs tickling #The way that I had to hold myself from writing Lan Xichen getting his revenge you have no idea- #Xichen and Cheng show each other ur smiles without covering your faces new year challenge

[good-beanswrites]

Hello again, I'm here to request once more. Feel free to take all the time you need btw! I would always be patient for your wonderful works ^^

This time I'd like to request from the Drabble List#2 - 47 with the 020607 Trio (mainly Mahiru though). And yes, this is hugely inspired by that one minigram with Mahiru. And as usual, feel free to change the scenario and/or the characters.

Thank you again, good luck with your future studies and take all the time you need!!

Woo thank you so much!! :'D This one was a ton of fun (and once again led me to get smacked in the face with unlikely character parallels I wasn't aware of before). It's from Kazui's pov but it's still mainly about Mahiru. I ended up going canon-compliant, but I did consider sticking super close to the minigram and do a little normal-au where Mahiru drags them across Japan to make a perfectly homemade cake 😅

Everyone knew Mahiru had a tough time distinguishing genuine from joke, but Kazui hadn’t expected it to come back to bite him. Mahiru wasn’t stupid by any means; sometimes she just forgot that others weren’t as unabashedly honest as herself. When she said something, she meant it. Kazui… not so much.

Which is why, following a conversation about her skills in the kitchen, in response to being pressed about his own household, he thought it would be inconsequential to utter the following words to her.

“Bake me a cake, and we’ll talk.” 

Kazui had laughed his booming laugh, Mahiru had giggled in her sweet little way. Neither realized what had just transpired.

That is, until Yuno dragged Kazui across the prison the following day to make him aware of the monster he had released upon the kitchens. The two hurried over to find a massive operation underway: Mahiru had several layers in the works, she was stirring multiple fruit fillings, decoration choices scattered across the countertop, and anyone who dared venture too close was shooed away with a slap from her wooden spoon. 

It took a few minutes to get the situation all worked out.

“So… you didn’t really want a cake…?” She asked, pausing mid-stir. Her eyes were so big and round.

Yuno came to the rescue. “Of course he does!” She interrupted. “Everyone here would die for a taste of your baking~” 

Kazui nodded. “I just didn’t mean for you to work so hard for my sake. I’m really not worth all this effort…”

Mahiru’s jaw fell, offended on his behalf. “Yes you are!” Her attention was momentarily caught by a timer chiming. Kazui took the bowl from her so she could take a pan from the oven. He picked up where she left off stirring. 

“Either way, why don’t I help you out?” Yuno had grabbed some ingredients from the counter as well. “While we bake, I’ll tell you a little bit about myself. A little,” he repeated. 

And he did. Her questions were easier than he’d expected. While the others knew how to poke and prod about each other’s murders, Mahiru really did just want to know about his home life. While she buzzed around the kitchen switching pans and creating intricate icing patterns, she asked him about his childhood, his hobbies, his job. As soon as she saw his wife was a touchy subject, she let it drop (though with a bit of disappointment, to be sure). He scrambled a bit as Yuno the human lie detector would shoot him a look now and then. Overall, though, his measured answers managed to satisfy both women without giving much of himself away.

When they carried the spectacular cake into the common room to everyone’s amazement, Mahiru prodded him with her elbow.

“We should talk more! I mean, come on. How difficult was that?”

If only she knew the half of it.

———

“Hey, Mahiru.” Kazui traded weak smiles with Yuno as he joined her by the bed.

“Oh. Hi Kazui,” came her weak voice. She tried her best to smile under the tangle of bandages that surrounded her. Then, silence. 

Aside from a few coughs and small requests, that silence stretched on for hours. He and Yuno usually had a lot to talk about, but neither could muster anything up today.

He thought Mahiru had dozed off, but she surprised him by taking his hand. “Kazui?”

“Yes?”

“Do you really think I’m unforgivable?” 

He blinked. “I can’t really say.” 

The moment the words left his lips, he knew they were the wrong ones. Well, the glare that Yuno was trying to murder him with also helped. “Er, I forgive you, of course. But… I don’t know anything about you, Mahiru. Not really. I can’t say why others would think you’re unforgivable or not.” 

“...I see.”

Yuno looked like she wanted to add something, but couldn’t find the words. Traces of emotions flickered over her face before she could cover them up. Kazui guessed she wanted to defend Mahiru. But maybe she also agreed with him. And that was when the realization struck him.

“I guess, I always thought you were so much better than me and Yuno when it came to talking about yourself. You do it all the time, and very easily. But now that I think about it, I probably know just as much about your situation as you know about mine. For such an honest person, you hide everything just like we do. Or maybe, you hide from everything, like we do.”

More silence.

A teary smile appeared on her face. “You know… you could bake me a cake… and maybe we’ll talk.”

Kazui didn’t laugh, and she didn’t giggle. He nodded, solemnly. “I think that’s a good idea.”

#milgram #mahiru shiina #kazui mukuhara #yuno kashiki #i know yuno faded a bit into the background but shes in the same boat as kazui ;-; #i love that minigram so much asdfdsf she would have such massive ambitious projects 😅 #(and if the day 16 feast is any proof we know she really can pull them off!!) #so i think she could make this spectacular cake with limited prison resources -- the problem is no one is actually asking her to... #i know all the prisoners arent super open about their crimes but like if you ask the others directly it feels like theyll say a few things #even just to defend themselves #but yuno-mahiru-kazui may not even give you that much... #also picturing kazui very bad at baking so yuno definitely helps him with that cake he promises mappi :') #thank you so much for your kind words and patience ahh <3 #i actually struggled a lot with this one (as in it took a while to physically write despite having the ideas early on) so it meant a lot ✨ #i was so obsessed with this one -- #one day i want to expand that first section and play out their actual conversation - i just love the concept of them baking and chatting #yuno coughing or bumping into kazui every time she can tell hes lying #mahiru subtly hiding things too without realizing #and cake shenanigans of course #it was way too much to cram into a drabble without getting lost but i do want to eventually 😤 #and thank you-- studies are going well 😤 wishing you well in your current endeavors! #drabbles

[mid-nightowl]

…can i ask you to share more of your thoughts on fem!jaytim vibes

hi cory!!!! yes, yes i can :) <3

most of my thoughts come from this lil snippet and my tags.

my thoughts on fem!jaytim can be boiled down to this line: “Her successor fascinates her. She kind of wants to let him dissect her, little freak that he is.” 

like tim is a freak who would absolutely want to dissect and take jaye apart piece by piece just to get to the bottom of whatever the hell is wrong with her (obsessive) and jaye would let him bc she wants to know what the hell is wrong with him (affectionate). 

It’s almost a scientist and their never-ending experiment, but not quite?

like the dissection, its the act, the intimacy, the trust in being vulnerable and completely open on the table for them to see, a show and a sight but not a performance, it's the ‘i’m going to take you apart piece by piece, not to fix you or change you, but just to understand you’, and 'i’m going to get my hands dirty and dig into you, and it can be voluntarily or not, it can be with anesthesia or nothing but im going to know you whether you like it or not,' paired with 'you are going to have to cut me open to get to know me, it has to be cold and violent, it has to be artful and methodological.'

but jaye started off with ‘i want to destroy you, take you to the brink, the edge of despair and fury and hatred and let you go without any catharsis,’ kind of like capturing a wild animal, testing on it, and then releasing it back into the wild with a tag to see what it will do after being changed (will it return back to it’s normal routine or will it come back for more?)

and then tim kept coming back. and that's when jaye is like alright yeah, i'll let you rip me open and give me a name (or maybe give me back my name?) and tim does, and he does it carefully, adoringly, obsessively.

and i think tim’s obsessive focus, paired with the idea of the knife/scalpel = love, is what jaye would respond to best. she was raised in violence, and probably thinks that fighting and pain is caring and love, AND she’s never been a priority in anyone’s life. so for tim to obsess and know her in ways that no one else has before (or have even bothered) is captivating, exciting, and absolutely mind-boggling, and i think jaye would get possessive, like ‘this robin, this little freak is mine.'

i, hmmm. running out of coherent thoughts after this, so um i guess enjoy? <3

#asks #felinemotif #i don't write/talk about jaytim very much; ive always been a jaydick girlie #but this was a lot of fun to think about and like actually get down my thoughts in a somewhat coherent manner #i think there's another piece here about the dissection as an intimacy that only requires the subject and the surgeon/scientist #and the idea of labelling and taking photos of the parts something about learning and teaching but also remembering #another part: once the dissection is done once tim knows all of jaye does he stay? #which i think devolves into jaye going out of her way to prolong the dissection bc she thinks it may be temporary between her & tim #whereas tim is thinking okay i know all the pieces and parts which means im the perfect partner for jaye #no one knows her better than me AND no one will get to know her like i do #(the whole dissection thing too like tim is not afraid about hurting jaye whereas bruce is bc he knew her before) #(bruce thinks “dissection” would = change bad or good while tim knows it just means learning and knowing) #like it's going to be painful before it gets better and bruce doesn't want to go through the pain of knowing this version of jaye #bc it means acknowledging what he's done or not done #and tim's a fixer at heart but to fix things you gotta know what you're dealing with #problem is tim fell in love and realized fixing things would just make it worst so #he is very content with his tall gf that could kill him with her thighs and lets him do his freaky experiments<3 #okay wow i was not done with the thoughts ajfkagjbsg imma stop now #jaytim #fem!jaytim

[freddieslater]

28. Feed for the fic-title thing :D good luck with your writing!!

Thank you so much, I really appreciate that! (So, I basically wrote this entire fic since it was a short one anyway, so thank for you requesting this one lmao)

<3

"I've gotta admit, I used to think I'd enjoy this a lot more."

Matt gives a grim laugh, wincing at the sharp pain that shoots up through his wrist and into his shoulder. Here's hoping that's not a lasting effect or else he's going to have a rough practice tomorrow.

Elena immediately pulls back, making him regret saying anything at all when he sees the look on her face. He knows the look well; he saw that same guilty expression the weeks just before they broke up. He didn't know but he did. At least then, her guilt made sense, though.

"Matt," she starts to say, shaking her head, "I'm so sorr-"

"Hey, hey, it was a joke," he tries to assure her. Instinct has him reaching out to rest a hand on the side of her neck because he knows...

He has to stop himself short, leaving his hand awkwardly between them for a second before he ultimately decides not to cross that line and drops it back to his side. He swallows the lump in his throat but it hasn't budged in about four years, why would it now?

Elena's face drops along with his hand and he feels he might as well have just ripped her heart out with his bare hands. Funny that, how it would be unforgivable if he hurt her like that. But not for them.

She rubs at her face as she turns away from him, dragging her fingers through her hair with a pained expression. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. None of this..."

Matt knows that. Elena knows that. Everyone in the universe knows that their lives were not supposed to end up like this. It has been the only thing he has thought every single morning when he wakes up and every night when he tries to sleep. Except he's not mad about it anymore. What's the point?

Heaving a deep sigh, he gives in this time to his instincts and wraps his arms around her. She leans into him without any hesitation, and so he holds her close to him.

"It's gonna be okay," he quietly promises her even though he doesn't know how that could ever possibly be true when any of the people in his life could kill him on a whim tomorrow and he'd be forgotten about in a week.

That thought stirs something bitter in him and it tries to climb his throat but he forces it back down as Elena turns her body in his arms and presses herself against him, hugging him tightly. She doesn't even fight his unreliable word because she wants it to be true just as much as he does.

He lands a kiss on the top of her head, allowing himself just this one thing. Just this one second where it's just them. No vampires, no werewolves, nothing. Just two people who know each other better than they know themselves at time and don't quite know how to untangle the mess they have made of each other and themselves in the process.

"Come on," he murmurs. "You need to finish feeding. You barely took any, you've gotta be starving."

"But it's hurting you."

"Then just... try a different way or something. Maybe it's because you're new to it. There's gotta be some kind of learning curve, right? Like swimming or football."

Elena lets out the smallest laugh at that. She raises her head to look up at him with a slight smile, then she sighs, glancing uncertainly at his neck. It still sends a cold shiver down his spine to be looked at like that. A bit like how he imagines lions look at deer.

But he knows, deep down, that he would allow himself to be caught if it meant ensuring Elena got to live another day. That's not new. He spent weeks after the first crash wishing he had driven her home instead, or that he hadn't convinced her to go to the party at all. He can't think about the other crash at all.

She gets him to tilt his head a few centimetres back, resting against the wall behind him. Her fingers brush the sensitive skin of his neck, resting at the base of his throat. Then she leans in and slowly sinks her teeth into the soft flesh.

It doesn't hurt. Well, there is a prickle of pain, but then it erupts into something warm and he's not sure it's pain at all anymore. He gasps softly when they get all the way beneath the surface. They're definitely there, he can feel them, but it's not obtrusive like it was before. They're just... there. In his neck.

Elena's hand slides up the other side of his neck to keep him still and stop herself from accidentally slipping either. His eyes flutter closed at the touch.

"That's... yeah, that's a lot better," he breathes out shakily.

A wave of disappointment actually washes over him when she pulls back. There's a trickle of his blood on her lip. His stomach turns inside out. Unfurling. He can't figure out if he's disturbed or...

"Was that enough?" he asks tightly, pressing a hand to the small wound on his neck.

She nods and quickly wipes her mouth, ducking her head as if to stop him from seeing like this. He tries again to swallow but it causes stars to pop up in front of his eyes. Elena gets him to sit down on the bench nearby. She keeps hold of his hand. If she can hear his racing heart (which she probably can), she doesn't say a thing about it.

Send me the title/number of a wip and make me write it!

#smells-like-trouble #ask away earthlings! #make me write #tvd #the vampire diaries #matlena #elena gilbert #matt donovan #elena x matt #matt x elena #god I just have so many feelings about them okay #and I realized while writing this that I very much like the idea of their post-turning dynamic being sort of damon/katherine-esque? #their human dynamic I mean #because the way I wrote matt being slightly fascinated by elena while she was feeding on him definitely reminds me of the scene #when damon is watching katherine feeding and he's slightly disgusted and slightly turned on at the same time lmao #because while the whole drinking blood thing freaks them both out there is something to be said about seeing the woman you love like that

[summerendroll]

im thinking about tehanu again

#my reading for lesbian class as i shall hereforth refer to it said smth abt how trying to approach conflict with violent #is seen by the authors as a patriarchal form of control and it made me think abt smth i read from le guin abt wanting woman protags and #heroes who arent just women in the roles of men and i was like skeptical of it i was like #does she mean women cant like fight or smth and i think tbh it cld be worth digging deeper into what she said bc idr exact quote #but rn im thinking she probably meant. along these lines #but i think. what i didnt really realize st the time i read the le guin piece im thinking of. #that she might be referring to like. making women knights and whatever in a very patriarchal world without examining what that really #entails like pretending ur world isnt misogynistic in x way without actually thinking too hard and doing very much to show this #u know? i think like for example. tamora pierces lionness books i liked in middle school theyre a whole thing to get into for several #reasons all by themselves LOL but the books r abt women heroes while writing within the familiar framework of a misogynistic world and what #it meant for whatever-her-name-is to become a woman knight after shes outed or whatever #idk id im actually getting to the point of my thoughts here LMAO im still. doing homework #but like anyways tehanus examination of the earthsea world le guin had subconsciously made so deeply misogynistic #is still really neat. i think that le guins right and that just going look the girls can be the hero swords wielder too! arent the only or #even always the best way to show that ‘girls can be heroes too’ idea

[manwithoutaspleen]

more transition rambling

as upset as i sometimes get about not passing, i still love what transitioning is doing for/to my body so much. like i never get sick of seeing how hairy i’m getting, i’m impatient for more facial hair and so excited to have stubble and one side burn (and i would love for both side burns to come in.) my chest hair has started coming in the past few weeks and THATS been a thrill.

every time i hear myself singing and actually like how i sound? every time i laugh weird and sound like my brother, who i love so much? every time i see a friend for the first time in awhile

it’s just, life has been so hard for like, a year and a half now, and while i do think i’m finally on the upswing, there’s a lot of new trauma to deal with. but one thing i’ve learned from all this is how to take care of myself so, so well. i can love and care for myself now in ways i never imagined being possible. and having a body that actually brings me joy makes that so much easier.

and like, it’s especially resonant to have a body that actually brings JOY when i’ve had chronic pain since i was 12. when this all started because i got a new disability. my body can do less and hurts more and i still love it more. its harder to care for, but i’m trying harder.

transitioning has saved my life in SO many ways i could not be more grateful that i finally did it

#separate ramble for the tags: #i deactivated my twitter for a day and realized i could just. not bring it back #and so i didnt! and while i will pop in occasionally so i dont lose it permanently and to check in w people and there and such #it is kinda nice. its also very weird #i also deleted the tumblr app #so i cant just like share every random thought i have with the internet #and i WANT to so badly i am so used to it lmao #but i think practicing being more intentional about what i share online and like breaking that habit of tweeting everything is good for me #even if its not permanent #but hell it might be! #i havent done a great job on breaking the scrolling habit bc i still have instagram for my sibling gc lmao #but reels are. way less engaging than twitter so. #reflecting on it though has made me realize like my memory is so bad and one reason i tweet so much is literally as a Record #but its like alright well maybe a Journal would be Better #and accepting that its ok to forget random thoughts i do not need to preserve every little idea i have #reflecting on internet habits on the internet is very online i admit #but i dont mind being online im just trying to find a way to do so that doesnt break my brain so bad #which is why this is on my mind rn bc like i do genuinely enjoy doing a little blog every so often lmao #might branch out and start actually blogging/writing about my interests too

[carmenlire]

thinking about how easy it would've been for semantic error to fall into the "he could resist me so I have to make a conquest out of him" trope but instead they brilliantly fell onto the side of the line where you can literally see Jaeyoung’s annoyance shift into something deeper when Sangwoo doubles down on what he did-- while blatantly and deliberately insulting jaeyoung in the process.

jaeyoung laughs to himself after sangwoo storms off that first time and says something along "damn he has guts" and you can see that his drive to annoy Sangwoo and "get revenge" is because sangwoo had intrigued him and not because he just wants sangwoo to, like, submit.

and then as things progress-- jaeyoung Sees sangwoo every step of the way. you know that jaeyoung is putting every little thing he learns about sangwoo and marking it Important in his mind. and so quickly it turns into jaeyoung wanting Sangwoo's approval and inviting him closer with a relationship in mind.

idk if I worded this well-- my brain feels like soup-- but yeah. I just think a very common trope with enemies to lovers is that Person A wants Person B as a conquest whenever Person B is able to resist them and doesn't fall in love like everyone else always has. but I think semantic error is brilliant because while Jaeyoung’s interest is definitely piqued when sangwoo doesn't ask forgiveness but instead goes on, rather at length, about how insufferable he finds Jaeyoung-- he also immediately sees, understands, and navigates that sangwoo operates differently and that-- as much as sangwoo standing up to him-- is hugely attractive to Jaeyoung.

#thinking about Jaeyoung’s character #i do think he is someone that needs a constant challenge while also thriving off of having those routines or foundations #and he gets both with sangwoo #sangwoo very much has to deal with liking and then loving and then living with someone else #sangwoo has very definite ideas and ways of operating that are fascinating to jaeyoung #so he gets the challenge of learning sangwoo #while knowing that theres always going to be mkre to discover and realize about his love #but he also knows Sangwoo is it for him and that sangwoo is just as invested #and that knowledge also settles something in Jaeyoung #idk #just having some thoughts aboht these two to ring in the new year #and yeah i saw a few edits earlier that spurred the thoughts #semantic error #my writing tag

[elegyofthemoon]

In the cool, plush core of the moon sleeps a mouse as we speak, dreaming of a world lush and green, then golden and undulating, then chopping and churning, a world of many surfaces with skies of many moods.

When it awakes, it will poke its tiny head out of a crater and bask in your glow as it does every morning. Here, all is still and silent. On that sparkling planet in the deep black distance, the sun seems capricious. But the mouse lives in the abyss of the body and therefore with a unique perspective on its essence. The mouse sees what other life does not see.

One needn't worry about unbecoming for the sake of containing a sun. Clouds may blanket the atmosphere of a planet, but still there burns a sun. The spots on the sun's surface may grow and shrink and shift, but still there it burns. And if one decides to cool it down like a waning flame or expand it in a cataclysmic supernova, still there it burns, and one has the right to revoke the state of their existence and become new.

Because perhaps the truth is you are not the sun--not alone--but it is rather a part of you. Your body is the solar system, each planet a world within the body, and each knows this glow in different ways. Some are nurtured by its warmth, others by its distance. Regardless of the sun's changes, they stay the course encircling it.

The universe cannot be held back, harnessed, fully comprehended. It pulls at the seams of solar systems as it pulls on its own seams. In that unstoppable shifting, we stumble. Sometimes it feels like our love and light slips from our fingers, shattering irrevocably in our falls. But what makes us cannot be seperated from us, even in times where our essence is obscured.

There is always another life to appreciate your life, no matter what happens. And in the least, there is always a little mouse in you that understands you in telescopic clarity and offers forgiveness for every change--no matter what, right into the end of time.

❤

#answered #this was sitting in my inbox for a little while #and i wanted to answer properly but i fear that responding back is a little...hard #not that i dont want to its more like this was so prettily written and just so beautiful i fear if i responded id just ruin it lol #so im responding in the tags bc i feel better about doing that #i appreciate whoever decided to write all this up and leave it here for me it means a lot #more vent in the tag #not really vent but ig just reflective i suppose with the last week: #i think i may have actually talked about it before but you have no idea how happy i am with just. the people im surrounded with these days #because even if im going through something ill always push my feelings down in order to make someone else happy #because idc what happens to me overall. if i can make someone else happy thats all that matters #but ik a lot of people take advantage of it so when something bad happens when im unable to help someone they used to get mad at me for it #so more reasons to kinda push my feelings aside to cater to them etc etc etc #but i think the past week has been nice too in realizing that the people around me are patient and just overall kind -- not really expectin #much of me #ig theres this understanding that we all have busy lives now and maybe thats just the gift of maturity as a whole #even if im not the super positive or comforting presence people put me as at least people still care and thats how i know im loved at least #ig in a way this ramble is just a very big thank you to everyone for that #theres a lot of kindness and warmth in this ask that i appreciate and only want to spin back to friends. i hope they can feel it #or that it reaches them #anons #kind messages

[yandere-writer-momo]

Author’s note: I am stuck in a slump so I’m going to write a guilty pleasure of mine… the body swap trope except this time, with a twist. And of course with the one that got away trope. I adore it so very much like black cherry ice-cream.

Yandere Head Canons:

The Husband Swap

Yandere Shapeshifter x Married Fem Elf Reader x Neglectful Drow Husband

TW: yandere content!! Mentions of smut, dubcon, tentacles, monster fucking, size kink, manipulation, voyeurism, oral, and unhealthy relationship.

Art from Veil Manga

You had been married to your husband, Nikolai Sokolov, for many years. An arranged marriage set up amongst your people as a peace treaty… you, a high elf, wed to a drow, dark elf. And Nikolai was often cold to you… despite how often you attempted to bond with him.

Nikolai refused to eat any of the food you made and he constantly brushed aside your attempts to get to know him. He cared little for this arranged relationship and treated you as if you were some mere commoner, a fact that only made your heart sting.

Nikolai would occasionally share a bed with you, but it was often out of fulfilling his needs. He cared little for your pleasure and only cared to satiate his own.

One day, Nikolai bought you a servant just to get you to leave him alone (outside of sex). A shapeshifter.

A magic collar was bound tightly around their silver neck as a preventative to their ability to shift. They were now powerless and subservient. A trait that most shapeshifters didn’t have since they were quite sly by nature. You wondered what this creature had done to have been reduced to a servant…

Their name was Lev Snegur and they were close in age to you and Nikolai. The shapeshifter was somewhat masculine looking with sharp features and pitch black eyes. A genderless species that never uttered a sound, what wonderful company to have.

You often tried to engage in small talk with them, but they remained as silent as the depth of night. Not a peep left their lips to ever give you input. It unnerved you.

You were very sweet to them and even offered to share meals, but they only stared at you. Talking to Lev was like talking to a brick wall that nodded at times. Lev was an incredibly good listener.

Lev’s company did little to satiate the ache in your heart and the all consuming loneliness. You were so isolated in this empty home filled with bitterness. And you started to accept that you’d never find any warmth with him. Nor would you find solace in your silent servant’s company.

Occasionally you’d wake up covered in a slight sweat, a puddle of dampness below you. The room would always feel of sex, yet you hardly had any of that… but you were always a bit sore between your legs when you’d wake up on mornings like this. Had you been having wet dreams due to your consistent loneliness? Or was there something foul at play?

So it was a surprise when Nikolai bounced into your room like a puppy one morning. His arms wrapped around your side while he inhaled your scent. What on earth was he doing?

“Nikolai?” Nikolai placed a finger on your lips, a mischievous look in his crimson eyes.

“Shh, I have a surprise for you!” Nikolai gave you a bright grin that made you do a double take. You’ve never seen your grumpy husband smile in his entire life. This had to be a dream… you gave yourself a pinch and hissed at the pain you inflicted on your poor arm. Nope. Not a dream.

Nikolai lead you out of the room to where a grand meal was set before you consisting of all of your favorite delicacies. You had no idea your husband even knew you adored such food…

“Do you like it?” His face was hopeful as he took your hand in his. “I’ve come to a realization that you genuinely care for me… so I will treat you better.”

And from that day forth, Nikolai was more attentive than he ever had been. He insisted you should move into his room and he often cuddled with you… it was so odd. This entire situation was bizarre, almost as if this was another person and not your husband.

It was when Nikolai went down on you for the first time that your mind truly began to believe he was another man. When did he learn how to please you and why did he eat you out like a man starved? This wasn’t your husband… this was an imposter.

When ‘Nikolai’ made love to you, he felt bigger. You swore he was nearly two to three inches than he used to be, which made your stomach protrude like you had a baby bump. And his hands ardently grasped at every bit of your body as he could.

It wasn’t too uncommon for you to find your husband sniffing your hair like some sort of animal. You were so scared…

The longer you spent time with ‘Nikolai,’ the more paranoid you became. There were less and less drows around now and your servant was missing… you were starting to become afraid.

But you never were able to get much time to think about it too much since ‘Nikolai’ was always dutifully by your side. There was never any time to ask questions… until tonight. You decided to ask him… for you feared you’d fall off the deep end into insanity if you didn’t.

“Where’s Lev?” You softly asked Nikolai whose fingers paused their dance over your scalp. His crimson eyes glanced over to your face.

“And why do you care so much about a shifter when your husband is here?” Nikolai asked in a bitter tone, but you could see a bit of excitement in his eye. And it made your heart pulse in your brain.

“Well, I miss Lev.” You softly whispered. It wasn’t a complete lie. You did miss your servant who always listened to you, but you preferred his silent company over the overbearing presence of your changed husband.

“Hmm… well, we can go see him if you’d like.” Nikolai rose up from the bed and wrapped a black robe over his bare chest. “He’s in the dungeon.”

You were a bit shocked by your husband’s words. “What do you mean? Lev never did anything wrong-“

“My wife is too kind for her own good.” Nikolai held your chin to pause you from rambling on even more. His eyes were filled with so much emotion, it froze you in place. “It’s what I love most about you.”

You gulped and averted your gaze, your cheeks felt hot.

Lev lead you down the hallway and down the winding stairs to the dungeon, his hand gently held yours. You felt dread creep up into your stomach the closer you went to the dingy dungeon. Your nerves felt as if they were on fire…

And the sight before you terrified you to your core, the angled corpse of Nikolai laid sprawled out on the brick flooring. His lifeless eyes turned toward the door and his mouth agape in a horrific scream forever frozen on his rotting face.

You tried to flee but your ‘Nikolai’ began to shift, slender hands now held you firmly in place while your captor’s face slowly morphed into the bewitching creature named Lev.

“It didn’t take much to overpower him. Your husband was too cocky to notice I figured out how to disarm the collar.” Lev’s voice made your blood run cold from how raspy it was. His voice low and monotonous despite the various emotions that hid beneath the surface of his eyes. “To whack him over the back of the head with a sword hilt and drag him down here. It was child’s play really.”

“Are you going to kill me too?” You whimpered when his grip tightened around your arms. His face filled with concern.

“Kill you? Nonsense, I’d never kill my wife!” Lev began to pepper your face with numerous kisses while his arms snaked around your waist. “I mean it when I say I love you, I love you more than that bastard ever could.”

You try to protest, but you feel something slimy wrap around your legs and give them a squeeze. Your eyes are wide in terror at the black tendrils that snaked around your plush thighs. What on earth?!

“And I can certainly fuck you better than he ever could… I can show you things no other monster could ever show you, so won’t you indulge me? I promise I’ll blow your mind.”

#female reader #yandere fic #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere dilf #obsessive yandere #yandere x willing reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #obsessive love #yandere obsession #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere males #yandere male #yandere concept #yandere husband #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere blog #yandere stories #yandere content #husband swap #body swap #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster fucker #monster smut #tentacles #yandere horror

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Creations Dance

Danny likes to dance in the night sky while flying in his new ghostly form which is very ethereal holding glimpses of different parts of space and creations unknown, this continues even after he moves to Gotham.

The sky around him becomes his stage,

A stage that matches him and follows his lead.

Gotham has never had such clear skies, able to see each and every star shining brightly.

Twinkling in many colours almost seeming to dance alongside Danny,

Sharing his joy in their existence.

~

Duke had seen the new phenomenon that was Gotham's skies, who hadn't it was all he would hear people talking around him anytime he left the house, speaking of which were also discussing the same.

Bruce, Tim, and Barbara all researching to see what had caused the change, their bet so far was on magic but not sure who or what was causing it or the reason why.

He had seen the others also poking around seeing if they could find a lead.

But the most curious of all being Jason's new demeanor, ever since the night skies had changed he seemed to calm down almost seeming peaceful.

Which don't get him wrong was a great thing to happen but the timing of it all was too weird, honestly even Bruce was tense about the sudden turn around in demeanor.

So with everyone else occupied he decided he might as well go and enjoy the night sky, it was a very amazing view to miss out on.

He had discovered a new spot a bit far from home but it was quiet and private and would make the perfect spot to stargaze comfortably without being interrupted.

~

He had fallen asleep accidentally but something had woken him up.

He noticed that it was cold, cold enough that he could just barely see his breath in the air in front of him which should not be possible since it was almost summer, had Mr.Freeze escaped?

Looking around now alert he caught a flash of something up above his head.

Looking up he saw..light and darkness and so many things that his mind couldn't comprehend rather less describe.

His eyes shifted trying to make out what he was seeing, in the center was a being..dancing?

The being seemed to feel his eyes on them because in the next moment they turned to stare at him.

He could feel the weight of their eyes on him their entire presence focused around him radiating power and joy.

Continuing to stare at each other the only thing Duke could think of was,

"You're gorgeous.."

Duke snapped back realizing he had said that out loud his face warming, but the being in front of him seemed delighted.

"Thank you! I'm surprised you're able to see me."

"It's hard not to, you were dancing so happily I could feel it in my chest."

They-he? floated closer

"If you liked my dancing so much you could continue to visit me here to see."

" If you're okay with it then I would really like that, my name is Duke."

"It's a date then Duke! You can call me Danny."

~

God what was he going to tell the others? He found the cause for the change in Gotham but Danny seemed to be good, not a villain.

Well he'll keep it a secret for a while more right now he had to prepare for his date!

~

Duke sees Danny dancing around in the sky: "We'll have a winter wedding."

~

Duke seeing the Bats stressing and losing sleep trying to figure what's going on: "Should I say something? Hm nah."

~

Danny Dancing around in the sky while Duke is in the background being a supporting bf cheering him on with pom poms: "That's my boyfriend woo~!"

~

The bats for some reason arguing about each other's past relationships and crushes

Steph pointing at Dick: You're the one with the strangest taste seriously out of everyone in this family Duke and I are the only ones with normal taste! Right Duke!"

Duke " My Boyfriend is a Being/Ancient Ghost of Space That Most of the Time Doesn't Look Human/Humanoid" Thomas: * face sweating while he tries to sneak out of the room* "Umm..*voice crack* y-yeah."

~

I really enjoyed writing this one, I don't see a lot of Duke/Danny, but the works I've read are all so wonderful ♡

~

Just an Idea

#nightlight #duke x danny #Space Acient Danny au #duke thomas #signal dc #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #batman #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp

[klemen-tine]

No Prince Charming

(Batfam x Mom!Reader)

Anonymous asked:

Hello, I really like your work.

I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.

Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.

Sorry if it's too much.

And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator

❤

Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.

It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed. 

Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders. 

A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office. 

“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’ 

Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one. 

But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences. 

“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her. 

As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him. 

Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.  

Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too.  Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact. 

Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look. 

She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is. 

“I’m sorry Richard.” 

“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up. 

In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on. 

Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother. 

“Bruce please.” 

“I am busy.” 

“I know but Bruce, this is my–” 

“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends. 

When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.” 

Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own. 

She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne. 

“Honey, are you happy?” 

“Of course Mama.” 

“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.” 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3. 

She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign. 

For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door. 

The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion. 

“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.” 

“Is that so?” 

“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne. 

“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.” 

“And the kids?” 

“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her. 

It's good to see some of that coming back. 

Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?” 

“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull. 

When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him. 

“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.” 

“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him. 

Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in. 

“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.” 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood. 

He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid. 

Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her. 

He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around. 

Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too. 

“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.” 

Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place. 

Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone. 

He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”

“Holy shit.” 

“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together. 

Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes. 

“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes. 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room. 

Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.” 

Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings. 

Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans. 

Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight. 

“Fucking hell.” 

++++

Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool. 

She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.

Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign. 

It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids. 

“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other. 

 “Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?” 

“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something. 

“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t. 

He knows this. She knows this. 

And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others. 

It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine. 

He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.

“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears. 

“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine. 

Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool. 

“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle. 

“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen. 

Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second. 

A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof. 

So, of course they have had sex. 

Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex. 

Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon. 

Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it. 

It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return. 

Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human. 

Batman was never Prince Charming.

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Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.

@problematicreblogger

@kurai-hono-blog

@rosecentury

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