#What angers me most about this is I usually only see this in fanfiction

[aethon-recs]

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 (Longfic Edition)

Happy New Year! 🤍 Here is a round-up of some of the most engaging multi-chaptered works/longfics that I came across in this ship in 2023.

I found each of these fics, in their depiction of the ship, to be a fresh or surprising take on our familiar beloved characters of Harry and Tom|Voldemort, truly groundbreaking in some way in their approach to the ship. It's amazing to me that even after 20+ years of this ship existing, there's still new themes / tropes / dynamics to explore, and the authors are all so talented in making me think about the ship in some new way — just incredible examples of what it means to be a transformative work of fanfiction.

Criteria for this list: multi-chaptered, Tomarrymort-centric, with at least 1 update published in 2023. As with a previous longfic rec list, I tried to find longer fics that were relatively under-rated (which is hard to define, but below 2K kudos for the most part).

See here for Part 1 (2023 Tomarrymort one-shots), and hope you lose many many happy hours to the unbridled joy of immersing yourself in one or more of these incredibly addictive, lovely longer fics!

*

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 — Multi-Chaptered Fics

A Darkness by Any Other Name by river_marrow (M, 30k, WIP) 

Decades after the war ends, Harry is thrown through the Veil, and finds himself in an alternate reality where the leader of the Muggleborn uprising is the Dark Lord Voldemort.

A Dead God's Faith by @selfishrot (M, 35k, WIP)

Blood and spittle rush to follow Riddle’s words that are dragged out through a wrecked throat. “I will consume you.” Harry felt a thrill run up his spine, along with the usual fear and anger that accompanied Voldemort's threats. “Be gentle, I can feel your soul ripping its stitches.”

And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan (M, 81k, WIP)

When Harry looks at Tom, he feels overwhelmed. There is a spark that makes him hopeful, the fear that nothing he does will save Tom from himself, and the horror at what his lies might lead to. When Tom looks at Harry, he feels nothing. Until he does, and then Harry’s world starts drowning in blood.

At the expense of the world by @itsevanffs (E, 24k, WIP)

"He had a lover, you know," Jenkins says to Remus once Harry's behind a wall and out of sight again. "A boy, and a gorgeous one at that. Nobody really knew where he came from, and Tom didn't seem to favour him either, at first, but by the end, he was besotted."

Bitumen by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 32k, WIP)

Harry finds out the hard way that Dementors can’t digest Horcruxes. Now separated from his body, his best option is to seek out a similar soul for help. A love story about immortals with too much time to kill.

Creatures of the Dark we are by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 25k, WIP)

Banished to his cupboard at age 4, Harry learns to listen only to the Voice in his head. Its teachings wrap all around Harry until no more than dark magic and devotion remains, along with visions of a wraith with red eyes.

Exceeding Expectations by @mosiva (E, 56k, complete)

Harry Potter’s life ran along very different lines than Tom Riddle’s. He knew nothing more of the man than he read in the Daily Prophet. Then they get stuck in a lift together.

Exegesis by liquoricepantomime (M, 38k, WIP)

In exchange for peace, Voldemort asks for Harry Potter. And so, there is a new legacy that forms — of The-Boy-Who-Was-Sold, and his childhood spent in a castle, with a man who has killed his parents. A man who is mad, and whose ire reigns fiery hell. A man he will marry, and yet knows nothing about.

found by @honbug (E, 112k, WIP)

Tom knows from the beginning that he is destined for greatness. Nothing and no one will stop him from achieving his goals. (And then, of course, there are the dreams.)

hook, line, and sinker by @purplemineralwater (E, 21k, WIP)

Harry asks Professor Riddle for help in killing Voldemort. Riddle is endlessly amused.

if we were lovers by @reggieblk (E, 277k, complete)

When Harry arrives at the most prestigious theatrical school in the country, he doesn't have many expectations. The most unexpected thing he encounters is Tom Riddle, and subsequently, falling in love with the only other person who deals with feelings as well as him. But maybe, just maybe, he and Tom will find out that not all love stories have to end in tragedy.

Lover's Spit by @pinktom & @k3uuu (E, 123k, WIP)

Following his father's arrest on a dull hot Sunday in North Yorkshire, 10-year-old Tom Riddle becomes a dark internet sensation.  If Harry Potter listened to his father, he would never speak to Riddle again. But eight years after the arrest, an unexpected and painful encounter leads Harry to reconsider events — and arrive at a conclusion all his own. 

One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 189k, WIP)

A decade after the final battle, a serial killer emerges, with a message that proclaims the Dark Lord has risen again. Harry is assigned to the case.

Oversight by @dividawrites (E, 21k, WIP)

Voldemort’s resurrection ritual doesn’t go as smoothly as he’d planned. He requires assistance and there’s only one person he can ask—the boy tied to his father’s gravestone.

Paved With the Best Intentions by @perhaps-sunlight (M, 113k, WIP)

Instead of dying during the Battle of Hogwarts, Voldemort de-ages into an infant. Until he becomes old enough to be legally executed, he will be magically bound to Harry.

Prison Blues by @metalomagnetic (E, 68k, WIP) 

Harry and Voldemort find themselves locked up in a mysterious prison in an A/B/O alternate universe setting.

Revolution of Configured Stars by @tollingreminiscentbells (E, 110k, WIP)

In a Voldemort Wins AU, Harry Potter was spared, and enters his seventh year at Hogwarts wanting to do Arithmancy research and keep his head down. However, after a chance encounter, it looks like it may not be so simple. Marvolo Gaunt seems to have his eye on Harry. The trouble is, Harry has no idea why. 

Tender Reigns Our Night by @noumena-writes (M, 93k, WIP)

Sent on a Ministry mission to fight for magic's survival, Harry goes back in time with two simple objectives: find and destroy any existing Horcruxes, and stop Tom Riddle ever evolving into Voldemort — using any means necessary. Harry thus finds himself working alongside Riddle at Borgin and Burke's, examining dark artefacts and desperately trying to fulfil his orders.

the demiurge, the leontoeides by @ramabear (E, 125k, WIP)

Thomas Gaunt reaches through the dimensions and plucks an eleven-year-old Harry Potter from his world and brings him home again.

the eternal flame by @duplicitywrites (E, 25k, WIP) 

There’s a well-dressed older man who enters the orphanage asking after Tom Riddle. The man’s green eyes fix on Tom’s face, searching and searching.  “My name is Harry Gaunt,” the man says, the tenor of his voice soft and faltering, a reflection of Tom's deepest, most secret anxieties, “and I’m here to adopt you.”

the righteous dead by @aspengray (T, 23k, WIP)

Harry is resurrected, sewn together with thread and magic. He remembers nothing except that he loves his savior, a man named Voldemort.

The Longing by @aglassroseneverfades (M, 33k, WIP)

Harry is not thinking of his parents right now as he trudges up to Voldemort’s eerie castle. He is thinking instead, as he often does, of a name that burns too brightly on his wrist in the pre-dawn light. He is wondering if somehow the fruitless tugging on his heart means that somewhere, some way, Tom is watching over him. 

With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally (M, 157k, WIP)

A Hunger Games-AU featuring Harry and Tom as competing champions.  Harry has a saving people thing. It’s not conducive to surviving a battle royale. He doesn’t fancy his chances. Especially against Tom Riddle.

*

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 25

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Em has trouble handling the breakup when Jamal shows up with bad news.

Tags : ANGST, Comfort

MARSHALL’S POV 

The hardest part about grieving his relationship with Y/N was that he didn’t really have anyone to talk to about it, since they hardly told anyone. The only people who knew about the breakup were Talia, Jamal and Hailie. For obvious reasons, he didn’t feel like telling his daughter how sad he was over a relationship she didn’t approve of. Jamal had actually reached out a couple of times, saying that he was sorry it was over with Y/N and that he was here if he needed to talk, but seeing as he was his ex’s roommate, Marshall didn’t feel too comfortable with the idea. 

Ever since the breakup, a couple weeks ago, he was in a state of constant mood swings : he would find himself in his bedroom, staring at the ceiling for hours, before being overcome by anger, followed by deep sadness. He was fifty-one, feeling like a heart-broken teenager, lonely and sad in a huge house whose every corner reminded him of Y/N. It was the most depressing place in the world and yet, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. This led him to do something extremely out of character : canceling studio sessions for two weeks and staying in bed most of the time. He also dodged most calls and failed to answer texts - not that he was too good at keeping up with it anyway. Most of the time, he wondered where Y/N was at, what she was doing, how she was feeling. The sadness he had seen in her eyes as they parted ways haunted him. 

It was sunday and, as usual, he was having his kids and their significant others over for family brunch. He tried his best to put on a happy face but to no avail. 

Dad ? Are you even listening to me ? Stevie asked, interrupting his train of thoughts. 

Sorry, I wasn’t, he admitted. Mind repeating ? 

I was thinking of getting a pet snake. I just don’t know which one yet. 

That made him chuckle for the first time in a week. Stevie and pets - a greater love story than most. 

Don’t you have enough of a zoo ? He asked. It’s a lot of work. And don’t forget school. 

I know, Dad. “School is important, blah, blah, blah”, she gestured imitating him. 

Well it’s my job to remind you, he shrugged. Anyway, don’t count on me for pet-sitting. 

Me neither, Hailie said with a hint of disgust. 

Neither, Alaina chimed in. 

Fine, Stevie said as she rolled her eyes. 

Marshall went back to his thoughts, letting his kids argue about what kind of unusual pet was the worst : spiders or snakes. He thought about Y/N and how she would feel about the debate, knowing full-well that she had a phobia of both. 

It’s probably not too wise to have a pet snake with a baby on the way, though, Stevie said. 

This caused Marshall to spit his orange juice. 

You’re pregnant ?! He blurted out. 

Now we’ve got your attention, she said with a grin as everyone laughed. I’m kidding. 

Very funny, he said sarcastically. Thanks for the heart attack by the way. I’m not ready to be a grandpa just yet. 

You do know that Hailie and I are older than you when you became a Dad, right ? Alaina asked. 

True, he hummed. Stevie is not, though. You can’t have a baby, you’re still one. 

I’m 21, she said as she rolled her eyes. But relax, I don’t want kids anyway. 

That’s my girl, he said with a smile. 

All I’m saying is that you could be a grandpa someday soon, Alaina continued. Now that we’re married, Matt and I might decide to start trying. 

You’d be good parents, he said with a smile. I mean, I’ll never be ready for that day, but I guess a new addition to the family would be welcome. Not a snake, though. 

How about you ? Stevie asked. 

What about me ? He hummed. 

Well you broke up with Nicole months ago, but maybe you’ll be the one bringing someone new to the family, she said. We’re out of the house and we don’t want you to be lonely, right ? I swear, it feels like you’re not even trying… 

He stared at Hailie who tried to hide a scoff by faking a cough. Obviously, she had been true to her words and hadn’t told her sisters anything - not that there was anything to say anymore… 

Let’s put it this way, he sighed. There’s more chances of me getting a pet snake than bringing a lady into this family. 

His tone was dry and sarcastic. Now that Y/N was gone, he felt like he might actually end up alone. But in the end, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be with anyone if he wasn’t with her. The perspective of even holding the hand of someone else was rebutting to him. Hailie looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

We’re short on pancakes, she said. I’ll make some. Help me in the kitchen, Dad ? 

That was a lame excuse, but he followed her anyway. 

What’s wrong with you ? She asked with a worried face once they were alone. 

Nothing, he said. 

Dad… You haven’t paid attention all day, you look like you haven’t slept in ages and you implied that there’s nothing going on in your love life when we both know it’s not true, she stated. 

There’s nothing going on anymore, Hay, he said dryly. Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I would appreciate it if you waited for me to leave the kitchen before you do some happy dance of celebration. 

Don’t snap at me, she said as her eyebrows furrowed. 

Sorry, he said as he pinched the area between his eyes. You’re right. I am tired and I shouldn’t be taking it out on anyone. 

So… It’s over ? She asked calmly. 

Yeah. 

He didn’t bother commenting on the circumstances of the breakup. 

Want to talk about it ? She offered. 

I’m good, he said as he took her in his arms. I just need some rest. I’m taking a small break from recording, that’ll do me some good. 

I thought you were close to being done with the new album ? 

It can wait, he said. I need to chill for a bit. 

I’m worried for you, Dad… 

Don’t. I’ll get over it, he said. 

“Chickens they come they go”, she playfully sung his lyrics. 

Thanks for quoting the clean version, he chuckled. 

They shared a laugh. In this moment, he was grateful for his family and especially his daughters. 

6 WEEKS LATER

The two week break ended up turning into a month and a half long one. He came up with various excuses but in the end, it didn’t really matter. He didn’t feel like seeing anyone besides his family and he was in no mood to work anyway. Everytime he tried to write something, it felt like a disaster. His inspiration seemed to have run dry. 

However, his friends were persistent and, once they understood that he was definitely screening the calls, they took turns showing up at his place to make sure he was alright. The official version was that he was a bit burnt-out. He was not sure if he should come clean about his breakup. He was starting to feel the need to talk about it, to talk about Y/N. She had tried to call him a couple of times but he did not pick up. Not that he didn’t want to, though. He just knew it would hurt too much.

Jamal had also reached out a couple more times but Marshall did not answer. He thought his friend got the hint, but he ended up showing up unannounced, late one night. 

Anyone dies ? Marshall asked after greeting him. 

Might as well be you, Jamal answered. We haven’t heard from you in ages, man. And no offense, but you look deceased, too. 

Well… You know. 

They stared at each other in agreement. 

Can I come in ? His friend finally asked. I brought you some stuff. 

You didn’t have to, man. 

It’s just a pack of red bull, food Talia made for you, some beats for you to listen to and a care package. 

A care package ? Marshall asked amused. What are you ? My great-aunt ? 

Actually, it’s from Y/N. 

Oh, he simply said. 

He gestured for Jamal to come in and they went to the living room. 

Thank Talia for me, he said as he rummaged through the bags his friends had brought. 

Will do. 

Should I wait for you to leave to open the mystery package ? He asked. 

Up to you, man, Jamal said. I mostly came to check up on you. We’re all worried about you. 

I appreciate it, man. Thanks. I’m good. I just need some time to adjust, you know ? He said. 

I bet, Jamal replied. It’s going to be weird, not having her hanging out at the studio anymore. We all got used to her being there. 

Well, we decided to remain friends, Marshall explained. So, she’s welcome anytime. I know everyone loves her and I don’t want it to be weird. 

Jamal looked at him with a confused expression. 

You really have unplugged, haven’t you ?

Sort of, yeah. Why ? 

His friend kept on staring at him for a few seconds. It was uncomfortable and it felt as if he was about to tell him that a zombie apocalypse had erupted. 

Man, I don’t know how to tell you this but…. She’s gone, Jamal said. 

What do you mean ? Marshall asked. 

Shit. I thought you knew, or at least that you had a vague idea… I know you didn’t pick up her calls, but she tried to text you. Several times, his friend explained. 

What does it fucking mean ? He asked as he was starting to lose his patience. What do you mean she’s gone ?! 

We drove her to the airport this afternoon, man. She’s moving back to France. She just handed her doctoral dissertation and she pulled something to convince them to let her do the defense thing remotely. 

Why would she do that ? Marshall scoffed. 

Dude, she’s a mess, Jamal said. She wouldn’t get out of her room for days. She barely ate, didn’t sleep. Talia had to help her showering and shit. We almost sent her to a psych ward. She stopped talking for weeks. 

Why didn’t you call me ?! He asked angrily. Why am I just finding out now ? 

She made me swear not to, man. She couldn’t face you. When she took the decision to move back, we convinced her to let you know, but I guess you didn’t see the texts… 

She’s… gone ? Marshall asked again, in disbelief. 

Yeah. You should check the package, Jamal said. When she didn’t get any response from you, she prepared it and told me to give it to you once she was gone. I have no idea what’s in there, though. 

Marshall wasted no time and tore up the carefully wrapped bow to unveil what was inside. There were a bunch of envelopes and two presents. 

I can leave you to it, if you want, Jamal offered. 

I don’t mind, Marshall shrugged as he kept on staring at the content of the box. Fuck. I had no idea she would fucking leave… 

He went back to his unboxing. He opened a first envelope, that contained a few pictures of them, that she had printed : a selfie of the whole crew, taken on the first day they met - she was shyly posing next to him as he flipped the camera -, two picture from their time in the hospital - a selfie of her as she pointed to him asleep in a chair next to her bed and a selfie of the two of them laying in bed next to each other - as well as the selfies they had taken as a couple. He looked at the pictures for a long time, failing to believe he wouldn’t see that face again and that she was in a whole different time zone. 

In the second envelope was a printing of the “acknowledgement” section of her dissertation. Everyone she knew from the studio was listed by name, including him, who had a whole paragraph that read “To MBMIII, thank you for welcoming me with open arms and believing in me. This work would not have been possible without your help and encouragement. Thank you for inspiring me to believe in my dreams and to lose myself in the moment and own it. In doing so, I found inspiration but also who I am. I am forever grateful for you, more than words will ever convey”. He read the paragraph at least ten times. He couldn’t believe she had actually quoted his lyrics to thank him. This made him smile and almost tear up. His heart was swelling with pride for her finally being done with her work, as well as sadness. 

The third envelope contained a handwritten letter : 

“Dear Marshall, 

By the time you read this, I will most likely be back in France. I wish I had the chance to say goodbye in person, but you wouldn’t pick up the phone. I am not sure why, but I guess I can’t blame you. Leaving Detroit, a place I have called home for the past few years has been a tough decision - probably the hardest one after leaving you. I knew I would have to go back home eventually, but I decided to leave early because I cannot see straight anymore. Every street, every corner, every stone reminds me of you. I cannot sleep in this bed knowing I won’t wake up next to you. I cannot keep breathing and existing in all the places you made me feel seen, loved and appreciated, knowing I can’t feel you near. Every little thing is a reminder of what once was and will not be again. And being reminded that I once had everything and lost it is too much pain. But in truth, I am not writing this letter to complain, but to say thank you. You walked into my life when I needed support, and you gave me exactly what I needed : love, encouragement and inspiration. Meeting you is one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I will forever be grateful. Your generosity and everything that you are takes my breath away. But as I am writing this letter, I am reminded that I am only human, in desperate need of oxygen. I need to leave because I have to save myself from drowning. I cannot allow myself to hope that you will reach for me, as I foreswore that right - if I ever had it. I broke both of our hearts but I am hopeful that they can be mended. You deserve nothing but love, joy and happiness and I pray that you find it wherever you go, whatever you do, whoever you meet. 

I love you and I always will. 

Yours forever, 

Y/N

PS : I hope you don’t mind the cheesy quotation of your lyrics. I have been catching up on your music because I needed to hear your voice. Also, it is hard to exist without your talent and your way with words. 

PPS : I have finally listened to your whole catalog. Every single, every album, every feature. I did not think it was possible, but it makes me love you even more.”

Marshall could feel his heart sink as he read her letter. He could feel her sadness and her pain, her bleeding love in each word. He wished that he could reach her and pull her close to him. At that moment, he knew that letting her go was his biggest mistake. Tears welled up in his eyes. 

Fuck, he said. 

You good ? Jamal asked after a few seconds, reminding him of his presence. 

I… I guess. 

He finally opened the two presents. These were fancy packages from Montblanc. He scoffed, as he definitely didn’t deserve such a big gesture. If anything, he should be the one to treat her to the finer things in life, not the other way around. In the first package was a beautiful leather embossed notebook with a note written in pencil on the first page : “May you be inspired to fill these pages with good rhymes and good bars. I cannot wait to listen to the whole album. You got this and I believe in you.”. 

The second package contained a fancy, beautiful pen. From the looks of it, it was a collectible. The first thing he did with it was to write her name underneath her note, in ink. He needed her name to be there, permanently. 

By the time he was done opening the presents, he was openly sobbing and it didn’t matter that Jamal or anyone else was here. For the first time in ages, the pain in his chest was so real that he thought he would have a heart attack. He found himself bent in two, crouching on the couch, sobbing and feeling every bit of the pain he had tried to suppress. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply. He tried to focus on happy thoughts, but he couldn’t think of anything. The only image in his brain was her face. 

FUCK, he screamed into the nothingness. 

Every emotion he had ever felt, every moment of pain and grief seemed to hit him all at once. His mom, his bullies, Ronnie, Kim, Proof, his overdose, Y/N. 

Fuck, he whispered under his breath. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

It was all he would say. 

Marshall, he heard Jamal say in an echo. Do you need anything ? Anyone ? 

Y/N, he said as he kept sobbing. I need Y/N. I need her. I need to talk to her. My phone. Now. 

He heard Jamal hurry and rummage through the mess in his living room, trying to find his phone before handing it to him. He turned it on for the first time in days and he was immediately flooded by the incoming notifications that caused the phone to lag for a bit. He had about a hundred phone calls, a thousand unread emails and about fifty unread texts. Most of them were from his manager, his friends and his kids, but a few of them were from Y/N. She had really tried to reach out to him. 

From Y/N : I hope you’re doing well. I need to talk to you. Can you please call me back ? 

From Y/N : Please call back ? It’s important. 

From Y/N : I can’t reach you and I wish I didn’t have to tell you over a lousy text, but I’m leaving Detroit. I’m going back to France. My plane leaves on Tuesday night. 

From Y/N : I don’t know if you got my texts ? Or if you’re ignoring them ? I’d like to say goodbye. Can I come by ? 

From Y/N : You probably don’t want to see me. I’m sorry for disturbing you. In case you change your mind, my plane leaves at 6:35 PM. 

From Y/N : Boarding now. It’s my last text, I swear. Goodbye Marshall. I love you. 

There it was. Her last text. She had actually given him the opportunity to see her one last time. He could have held her. Maybe he could have convinced her to stay. But he blew it. He needed to call her and apologize. All he wanted was to crawl back to her. He needed her. To hear her voice. Anything. He tried calling but it went straight to voicemail. By looking at the time, he guessed she was on the plane and that her phone was on airplane mode. It was too late. 

He stared at the screen, feeling angry at himself. In a fit of rage, he threw the phone across the room and heard the screen break. Once he realized it meant he might not have her texts, he went to get it back. The screen was broken but still working. Once again, he felt mad. He punched the nearest wall. Then a painting. Then a mirror. In a matter of minutes, he found himself in a state, nearly trashing his living room. Jamal stopped him and held him for a long time before he stopped debating himself. Luckily, his friend was far taller and stronger than him, so he had no trouble containing him. 

Man, you need to calm down. Breathe. 

I can’t, Marshall replied panting. What the fuck’s happening to me ?! 

The tears started to flow again, as he realized he might be losing his mind. Jamal engulfed him in a hug - something different than their usual bro-hugs. This time, he felt like a small child crying in the arms of their parents. On any other day, he’d cringe, but he was deperate. 

I got you, bro, Jamal said. 

She’s gone. 

I know. 

It took a couple of minutes for him to be able to breathe normally and think straight again. 

Man, I know you’re my boss, but I’m talking as your friend here. Because I care. You need help. You’re not staying in this house by yourself, Jamal said. 

As much as he wanted to protest, Marshall found himself nodding. In the studio, Jamal acted as a soldier and did as he was told, but in real life, he had a presence to him and an authority that made people think twice before discussing his orders. 

It’s no Mathers Mansion, but you’re welcome to stay at my place, Jamal said. 

You don’t mind ? 

I don’t. You can take the couch or the guest bedroom. 

Ok. 

He went upstairs and started packing his stuff for a few days. As they stepped outside, he felt a sudden wave of relief. He had to get out of there. He needed to get away and recover, otherwise he would go crazy.

[pynkgothicka]

Ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ Ｙｏｕ ＫＳＪ

Synopsis - When you try to break things off with Jin, your life seemingly gets worse almost immediately.

Pairing - Dark! Kim Seokjin x Fem! Reader

Featuring - Nia Long, Park Jimin

Tags and Warnings - Very manipulative Jin and suggestive content

Authors Note - I LUV JIN!! Next fics will be requests!!

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! The BTS members aren't like this at all, this is a work of dark fiction. Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

“Kiss me.”

Eyes trained on your lover, you ground yourself further into his lap, connecting your lips at his command.

Kim Seokjins lips tasted like cherries, and his tongue pried his way into your mouth.

The relationship started when Jin saw you struggling to bring your newly rented college text books up to your dorm. He had sweet talked his way into your heart.

He then gave you his phone number, after a while of talking asked you if you wanted to be with him officially. And with the promise of money, enticed you as a broke college student. It didn't matter to you but god did it make things better

Plus it was merely a plus he was attractive and actually a good “boyfriend.” His black hair framed his almost perfectly structured face. He'd always spoil you too, always bringing you candy when meeting up and getting you the most luxurious of dresses.

However things weren't always peachy, at least from your perspective. Something that put you off almost immediately after finding out was the fact that Jin was still married to his wife. And it seemingly made you the “other woman.”

You were aware of her, but you didn't think she was aware of you. And that just felt wrong for you to do. That woman doesn't deserve that treatment, and you had to be the one to bring up.

“Jin baby, can we talk?” You mumbled against his lips. Jin pulled away, you still straddling his leg. His thumb rubbed small circles into your right thigh.

“Of course, what's wrong?”

“Jin, I don't think I can keep doing this.” You said letting out a sigh. Jins harsh brows furrowed in, his face contorting into one of almost anger. “I… I don't like what we're doing to your wife. Its just wrong to me.”

“No, baby it's not wrong… I'm going to divorce her soon. You know I only love you.” Jin almost immediately said. You could feel yourself becoming lost in his eyes and sweet words again.

“Jin I don't want to do that to her! Plus it just makes me the other woman too you. I don't want that for myself. I don't want that for us.” You could feel yourself tear up at the confrontation. You didn't want to break up with him, he's one of the best things you'd ever experienced as you left home.

“Fine. Go.” Jin said with a sense of finality. He let you off his lap as he turned away to be left alone on the bed. You got up and grabbed your purse, leaving his house. You looked back one last time to see him looking out the window, he then closed the curtains as soon as his eyes connected to your own.

It felt strange leaving without him as he usually brought you back to your dorm.

You begrudgingly picked up your phone dialing your roommate to come pick you up, as you made your way to a nearby gas station.

“Hi, Nia? Yeah are you at the dorm right now?”

“Yeah I was about to go out, why?”

“I need a ride…”

“What happened to yours? Didn't you get picked up by your mysterious boyfriend??”

“Listen I just need a ride. I don't want to talk about it.”

“Fine. I'll come get you. Where are you?”

🔏

It'd been a few weeks since you ended things with Jin.

You didn't see, nor hear from him at all.

That what hurt the most.

It wasn't the fact that you were now back to eating tv dinners every other night. Or maybe the fact that you'd lost a reliable ride in a city majorly unknown to you.

It was the fact that you seemed that disposable.

And with that you began to cry again, putting your head into your pillow. You'd been crying for days at this point, missing one of the few men who treated you right.

Then Nia poked her head in your room, then seething through her teeth. “Listen girl, I’m going out. You need anything?” You shook your head, wiping away your tears in order to look directly at her. “Alright just call if you need something! And I'll send a pizza to the apartment soon.” And with that Nia left.

Finally you began to think, your mind running at a thousand miles a hour. You knew you needed to begin some self improvement.

Maybe you should go out?

No that gives you a chance to see Jin. And you really don't want to encounter him when you look so disheveled.

Maybe you could get back into online dating?

Yeah. That should work out good. Maybe all you needed to do was swipe left and right endlessly.

All you needed to do was get lost in your screen. It was a short escape, but a needed one.

🔏

Everything was finally going somewhat right.

Online you meet a college student by the name of Park Jimin. He was a dance major, and has been looking forward to meeting someone new. And after spending a week of talking every night on the phone, Jimin asked you out to a bar. He said it looked shady from the outside but he'd be willing to walk you inside.

Making sure you were all made up, you dug in your closet for a nice dress. Sadly a good chunk of your dresses was from Jin. Your eyes landed on a nice red party dress your ex-lover gave you. Looking in the mirror you smiled before leaving the apartment.

Me: I'm going out!

Nia🦋: finally!!!!!! ok stay safe! im hanging out with a friend for the nite 💋

You smiled at your phone, knowing atleast Nia was a decent dorm mate.

🔏

When you finally arrived at the bus stop Jimin wanted to meet you at, it was dark and empty. Only a single light stood across the way.

But you wanted to see Jimin in the real world. It was like a test, just to see if you were truly over Jin.

So you sat down and waited.

And waited…

And waited…

And waited.

And not a single soul dared to show up. You sent a bunch of messages asking about Jimins whereabouts. But you didn't get a response.

Now you were breaking down, loud sobs echoing in the desolate spot.

“Baby?”

You looked up in the direction of the voice seeing no one other than Kim Seokjin. And you couldn't be more relieved. Maybe you failed your test in just that moment.

Jin pulled up parking his luxury car on the curb. He got out and made his way to you. His hair looked as gorgeous as ever, his lips curling into a genuine smile.

He kneeled down and placed a hand under your chin. He moved your face to look up at his. Your makeup was ruined, red matching your dress. “Jin, I'm sorry… I… I need you. I need you so bad. I don't know what I'd do without you.” Your arms wrapped around his neck.

Jin placed a hesitant hand on the back of your head, letting you cry into his neck. “It's okay. I'm going to take you back to my house alright. Don't worry okay, your going to be just fine.”

He stood up and held your hand, pulling you up. You leaned into his shirt, his fruity, earthy scent taking you over once again. A scent you missed desperately.

🔏

Jin had thought of it all.

His hand played with your hair as he watched you sleep peacefully in his bed. You looked so comfortable, so at peace.

He slowly drained all your funds from your bank account, leaving you to be in perfect position to need his money.

He hacked your phone, realizing you were going to meet a new guy, and paid him off to send you up. This made you realize just how dependent on his love.

Jin just couldn't think of existing in a world without you.

[hannigramislife]

#6 Scene from my Random Mdzs Fanfiction

Prompt: What if 3zun reincarnated in modern au?

Scene: Lan Xichen runs out after his fight with Nie Mingjue- Jin Guangyao, who had been heading there, meets him halfway. When he sees the state Lan Xichen is in, he goes to confront Nie Mingjue.

“Er-ge,” Jin Guangyao’s eyes widened at seeing Lan Xichen’s red-rimmed and swollen eyes as he walked out of Nie Mingjue’s office. He grabbed hold of the elder’s arm, halting his stride. “Er-ge, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Jin Guangyao.” Lan Xichen answered, and uh-oh, full name again. Jin Guangyao knew what that meant. He was only ever Jin Guangyao when Lan Xichen was thinking; about the past, their lives, their deaths. He was only ever Jin Guangyao when Lan Xichen was doubting himself, when he felt guilty about his decision to keep him in his life, when he debated whether his crimes being of a past life warranted forgiveness in this one.

Lan Xichen was, most definitely, not fine.

“Er-ge, let me help,” he asked, the pleading note in his tone not even fake. He wanted to help, he wanted the elder to rely on him again. “I’m here for you, you know that.”

Lan Xichen flinched, and Jin Guangyao knew he had miscalculated. “Excuse me,” he said in a choked off voice, wrenching his arm out of Jin Guangyao’s grip, before disappearing down the corridor.

Jin Guangyao stared at his retreating back with wide eyes, before stalking in the direction of his original destination; Nie MIngjue’s office.

“What did you do?” He stormed in, voice ice cold as he looked at Nie Mingjue sitting at his desk, face pensieve. And he knew that pensive on the former Sect Leader was as close to guilty as you could get.

“No, let me rephrase that; what the fuck did you do?”

“Get out of my office,” Nie Mingjue said, not even looking at Jin Guangyao, which served to further piss him off.

“I don’t think I will,” Jin Guangyao retorted, rage much more obvious than it had ever been in his past life. Nie Mingjue had always wanted him to be honest, after all— Jin Guangyao would hate to deprive his eldest of the anger he had so wanted to witness before. “You made Er-ge cry? What is wrong with you?”

Some of the incredulity bled into his accusations, because he couldn’t help it. Nie MIngjue had never, in either life, treated Lan Xichen with anything less than the utmost respect and care. When Lan Xichen was present, Nie Mingjue gravitated towards him like a moth to a flame— he valued his opinions, deeply respected their friendship, and adhered to Lan Xichen’s judgment. Jin Guangyao would know, as it was the only thing to have kept him alive long enough to execute his plans, back then.

For Nie Mingjue to make Lan Xichen cry? Until five minutes ago, Jin Guangyao would have found the notion unrealistic.

Nie Mingjue finally deigned to meet Jin Guangyao’s gaze, and there it was, the familiar disdain that the mafia leader seemed to reserve specifically for Jin Guangyao.

It did not sting. It didn’t.

“I believe this is none of your business,” Nie Mingjue said coldly. “Which I’m sure is something you’re not used to having to accept.”

Jin Guangyao took a deep breath to calm his own anger; it would not do if Nie Minjgue pulled him into their usual arguments. This wasn’t about them, it was about Lan Xichen.

“It is, when it hurts Er-ge.” Jin Guangyao said firmly. “I know you care not for how your words affect others, but was it worth it? Did his tears make you feel better?”

Nie Mingjue whirled around, eyes blazing. "I did not hurt him.” He said stubbornly.

"No?" Jin Guangyao scoffed. “My mistake, he was obviously crying of joy. You’re known to elicit such a reaction.”

Nie Mingjue bristled at his comment, his anger always so obvious on his face. How did Nie Mingjue survive this long in a cutthroat world wearing his heart on his sleeve? Did he never learn?

Didn't he understand people like Jin Guangyao would jump at the slightest hint of weakness?

"It's a wonder you still have people left in your life, with your attitude. How long until Er-ge's loyalty grows cold? Until Huaisang walks out because he can't deal anymore-?"

"Don't you dare talk about them!" Nie Mingjue's voice thundered in the small room as he slammed his fist on his desk, the wood shaking. "You have got a lot of nerve, talking about hurting Xichen, as if you're not the reason he's as messed up as he is!"

Jin Guangyao could not believe him.

"Tell me, Nie Mingjue," he started, scathing. "Do you hate that I messed him up? Or that I am capable of messing him up?"

Nie Mingjue took a step closer to him, all tall stature and intimidating.

"Don't push it, Meng Yao." He warned. "I mean it."

Jin Guangyao was not having it.

"Do you hear yourself, I wonder? You're talking about a lifetime ago! We're literally not those people anymore. How thick-headed do you have to be to cling to what happened then?"

"Are we that different?" Nie Mingjue snapped back. "You still lied to him, didn't you? You would still do everything the same way! We're still going down the same goddamn road! All we're missing is a set of stairs!"

Jin Guangyao's eyes narrowed into slits, expression freezing.

"So that's your basis. You just paint me in whatever shade you want, because you can't be anything but right." Jin Guangyao scoffed in disbelief. "Well, I hate it to break it to you, Mr. Mafia leader, but you're exactly like me -you lied to him all these years, you led him on, you hid your dark side from him. Tell me, in this life, how are you any better than me?"

By the end of his rant, Jin Guangyao was heaving, panting furiously as he glared at Nie Mingjue; it was almost liberating, getting to yell at the man right in his face. Getting to throw every single one of his angry thoughts at him with zero consideration. It satisfied a deep part of him that Jin Guangyao kept hidden under layers upon layers of self-control; a vicious and vindictive part of him whose rage was never quenched, that wanted to lash out at the world and damn the consequences.

Distantly, he realized that meant Nie Mingjue might not be the only one clinging to the past.

How much of it was truly past?

For a moment, Nie Mingjue had been quiet— he hadn’t scoffed or dismissed Jin Guangyao’s words, hadn’t brushed them off, but seemed to be pondering over them. He only seemed to take well to Jin Guangyao’s words when they were hurled at him in desperate anger.

Was anger the only thing the man could understand, for fuck’s sake?

Jin Guangyao breathed in deeply.

“Just tell me, okay?” Jin Guangyao asked, voice small, the facade only half-fake. “Tell me what you said to him. I can’t help him if I don’t know what’s wrong, and he won’t tell me.”

They kept their gazes locked together, the room charged with tension.

“Say that I tell you,” Nie Mingjue started, a tad bitterly. “What, exactly, makes you think you could fix it? Smart, brilliant Meng Yao— always has a solution to everything. Always calculating how to steer things to what he thinks is right, damn what anybody else wants. Have you considered he doesn’t want to tell you? He didn’t go to you, after all, did he?”

Jin Guangyao, most definitely, had underestimated the elder man— he had truly learnt how to land a verbal hit.

Nie Mingjue had had many problems with Jin Guangyao in the past; with his underhanded ways and morally dubious decisions and haughty perception of life, but he had never belittled his intelligence. Nie Mingjue had never sneered at his intelligence, never doubted his capability.

He’d never mocked it either.

As he swallowed the hurt, Jin Guangyao allowed himself all of one second to think back to that scene, a million years ago, when Nie Mingjue had been the one to defend him, not beat him down.

One second. Remorse. Move on. That’s it.

Nie Mingjue would hate that train of thought, too.

Hit number two: Nie Mingjue was right. Lan Xichen had, indeed, not gone to him. The opposite, actually, he had all but ran away from him.

Jin Guangyao wasn’t sure if Nie Mingjue had noticed his slight slip of control, his hesitation, because the man wasn’t all that perceptive, but he continued nonetheless.

“Where do you get off, judging what I did in this life? I never hurt you, did I? If I were clinging to the past, I would have put a bullet in your eyes the second I saw you again. If I was just like you, I would take you from him, kill you like you killed me. But I didn’t, because I knew it would hurt him!”

Jin Guangyao almost staggered back, face falling despite his efforts, because what?

“So I’m alive,” Jin Guangyao said, disturbingly quiet. “Because Lan Xichen can’t decide if he wants me dead or not. That’s it.” That's all my life means to you now.

Nie Mingjue gazed at him darkly, brown eyes unflinching and way more unreadable than his past self’s. Jin Guangyao waited, if for one delusional moment, for a reply he knew wasn’t coming.

“You,” the younger said, for the first time showing his weakness in a shaky voice. “Are an asshole, Nie Mingjue.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you.”

“Tell me,” Jin Guangyao demanded, finally done with the elder. “Tell me what you said to Er-ge, so I can get out of here and not have to see your face.”

“You can walk your ass out whenever—”

“Not without learning how you fucked up—”

“—I am warning you, for the last time—"

“—because wonder of wonders, you don’t always know the best—”

“Meng Yao, I swear to God, one more word, and I’m going to shoot you.”

Unfortunately, Jin Guangyao had long since passed the point where he was scared of Nie Mingjue.

“Go right ahead!” He snapped. “God, you’re impossible! Always stubborn as a mule, you unreasonable brute! Er-ge is truly amazing— to manage to tolerate you after everything you’ve put him through—”

“Shut up! Shut up— just shut up! I have been his friend for far longer than you, in both lives. Don’t stand there and lecture me about how he feels like you know him better!”

Jin Guangyao wasn’t sure exactly what it was that gave the elder away; it was like the information had clicked inside his brain. Maybe he still had the ability to read Nie Mingjue like an open book, like the man’s eyes alone were enough to convey his deepest thoughts to Jin Guangyao.

Back then, he had thought that was just because Jin Guangyao had needed to be perceptive in order to survive, that reading people was a skill to keep him safe. Now, he found himself wondering if it was just a Nie Mingjue thing.

Because once Nie Mingjue finished his last sentence, Jin Guangyao had figured out what the issue had been.

’He’s jealous,' the younger thought to himself, internally scoffing, half mocking and half disbelieving. ‘He’s actually jealous.'

Jin Guangyao’s mind raced to process the new information; part of him preened in satisfaction, basking in Nie Mingjue’s jealousy, wanting to take the offered knife and twist its handle until the hilt touched NIe Mingjue’s heart. He stomped down his reflexive train of thought, realizing that being vicious with Nie Mingjue was not going to take him anywhere, and if he pressed on that particular move, the elder might really shoot him, or worse, shut him out completely, and that Jin Guangyao couldn’t afford.

With a deep breath, and immeasurable effort, Jin Guangyao started to calm down. He made a show of it, too, sighing heavily, dropping his shoulders as to appear non-threatening.

“This is pointless,” he said quietly, sounding upset, then looked up to Nie Mingjue. “Er-ge is upset, and I want to be there for him. My best guess is that he’s currently on his way to Jiang Wanyin’s house, and while they’re on good terms, Jiang Wanyin does not remember our past. He can’t help Er-ge now.”

Mentioning Jiang Wanyin appeared to have been a good idea, as Nie Mingjue’s face twisted in displeasure. If he was jealous over Jin Guangyao’s tentative friendship with Lan Xichen, then he must similarly dislike the idea of a third party receiving Lan Xichen’s affection; especially when said man is ill-equipped to be there for Lan Xichen.

When Nie Mingjue’s eyebrows drew back, his face losing the edges of his ever-present scowl, Jin Guangyao marveled at how easily Nie Mingjue responded to his words. Despite the man’s insistence that Jin Guangyao was not to be trusted, he still yielded so quickly when under Jin Guangyao’s influence.

Jin Guangyao had not expected his persuasion to still work on Nie Mingjue, he almost felt the desire to pat himself on the back.

“I don’t know what exactly upset him,” Nie Mingjue started, very much looking like he would rather be having dinner with Jin Guangyao’s father. “We- I said a lot of things. I was angry. He left when I said I wished to have gone through my word, back in Nightless City, and killed you. And myself, of course.”

Jin Guangyao’s eyes widening was not part of some act; he genuinely had not expected to hear that. Nie Mingjue shifted on his feet, looking away.

“I thought he’d have been happier without us,” he said, voice low.

“That’s…” Jin Guangyao wasn’t sure what to say, where they could go from there. “Not unreasonable. What brought that conversation about?”

“Fuck if I know. You, honestly.” The elder said, as if it was given that Jin Guangyao would cause fights between the two friends. “I said he had been fine with me dying, because he had you.”

Jin Guangyao first felt the familiar stab of pain, too slight, too quick to really be processed; mostly a reaction to the reminder of his former friend’s death by his own hand. A second later, the confusion. “What do you mean, Nie Mingjue? Explain, because I still don’t understand.”

Patience was not Nie Mingjue’s strong suit. “Do you want me to repeat our entire conversation word for word? What’s not to understand?! He told me he regretted my death. I said it didn’t seem likely, considering he ignored every sign of it happening just so he could keep you. Plus, he was fine after that, so I don’t get why he’s making a big deal of it now.”

Jin Guangyao took a moment to gather himself, after that. He had thought that he’d been angry, before, when he was yelling at Nie Mingjue’s face. He had been boiling with rage, judgment clouded with anger.

That seemed pale in comparison to his current state.

Jin Guangyao was furious.

“I’ve thought a great deal of things about you over the years, Nie Mingjue,” he said, voice shaking from silent rage. “But never have I thought you to be a complete idiot.”

A stubborn fool, at best. A naive, idealistic and narrow-minded knucklehead on the worst of days, who didn’t seem to have an ounce of patience and let his temper take the better of him. A noble, proud simpleton who didn’t realize other people were not as strong-willed nor as honorable as him.

Yes, Jin Guangyao had a lot of things to say about Nie Mingjue’s personality, but he had never thought him to be so thick.

Nie Mingjue was staring at him wide-eyed, surprised at the venom with which Jin Guangyao had suddenly spoken to him.

“What are you—“

“How dare you!” Jin Guangyao cut him off, not in the mood to go through that dancing tune with Nie Mingjue again. He stalked towards the larger man, eyes blazing all the while; even if Jin Guangyao was not a man who struggled in restraining himself, all his sense of control disappeared when it came to Lan Xichen. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Er-ge struggles every day to deal with what I did to you, even in this life, and you have the nerve to doubt his feelings?”

Jin Guangyao felt like he could pull his own hair out. Once again, Nie Mingjue had everything he himself has ever wanted, he had Lan Xichen’s affections, the purest form of his love, so long-lasting that it stretched into two lifetimes, and Nie Mingjue continued to be oblivious to it. Why are always the blessed ones who have no idea of what they posses?

Jin Guangyao would have killed to have been able to stand by Lan Xichen’s side. Had killed in order to climb to a position where he had been his equal, their equal.

Nie Mingjue didn’t even have to bother, all he had to do was exist for him to receive that love.

Jin Guangyao watched Nie Mingjue’s eyes darken at the reminder of his perceived betrayal. “Well, I’m sorry that my murder gets in the way of you and Xichen’s happiness. Maybe, you shouldn’t have killed me, then.”

Oh, so he was going there, huh?

“And what should I have done, Da-ge?” He asked mockingly. “Waited for you to kill me first? Offer myself up to Baxia for things outside of my control, just to appease your ego?”

Nie Mingjue glared at him, face twisted in anger, and suddenly it wasn’t about Lan Xichen anymore. Suddenly, it was about them, and their past, and everything that they were and weren’t, that hole in their relationship that was never addressed in either life, that got buried with them in a coffin, as undead as they were.

Because there had been something between them, before Langye, before Nightless city, before everything went wrong and maybe even during.

“I never wanted your death!” Nie Mingjue thundered, almost breathless with emotion.

"And you think I wanted yours?" Jin Guangyao responded, just as unwinded. "You think it was easy for me? Did you truly think so little of me, Da-ge?"

Nie Mingjue deflated, face falling. "Meng Yao, I thought the world of you."

Jin Guangyao felt something inside himself snap.

“It’s Jin Guangyao!” He yelled back, tired, so bloody tired of hearing that name from Nie Mingjue’s lips. It always sounded lesser that it already was, coming from him. Like a confirmation that that’s all he was ever going to be. “Must you keep referring to me by that wretched name?”

Nie Mingjue quietened, losing some of his anger in the face of Jin Guangyao’s discomfort. “It is your name,” he said tonelessly. ”Why do you hate the name so much? What was so wrong with Meng Yao?"

"You know what was wrong with Meng Yao,” Jin Guangyao all but snarled, fists shaking. “Otherwise, you wouldn't have called me what you did."

Nie Mingjue’s silence only managed to further infuriate Jin Guangyao. His previous name was a touchy subject, maybe the most so, and combined with Nie Minjue, it was like stepping on a minefield. "What are you waiting for?” Jin Guangyao asked, drawling the words slowly, like they were scraping out of his throat. “Say it again, Nie Mingjue. Son of a whore. "Come on, Sect Leader, say it.”

Nie Mingjue took a deep breath, closing his eyes, a very apparent and obvious attempt to get a hold of himself, and in any other occasion, Jin Guangyao could have appreciated the elder’s effort, but not then. Not over that.

“This is pointless,” Nie Mingjue said dismissively, walking back to his desk, and that was new, Jin Guangyao had never known him to walk away from a fight. He only knew how to add gasoline o the fire, how to make a bad situation worse, he was too stubborn, why was he walking away—

“Lan Xichen will probably go to Jiang Wanyin. If you hurry, you can probably still catch him. Don’t let the door hit you.”

Jin Guangyao would not allow him to walk out having the last word. Jin Guangyao would not allow Nie Mingjue to just turn his back on him, to leave as if it didn’t mean anything—

“Don’t you think”, he started slowly, the words flowing almost naturally, “that if it was going to happen, it would have happened already?” Jin Guangyao said, aware of the cruelty of preying on Nie Mingjue’s insecurity and choosing to do it precisely because it was cruel. Because when cornered, that was what he did. That was the kind of man Nie Mingjue’s Meng Yao was, and it would do him well to remember it. “You and Er-ge, I mean. You got two chances, two lifetimes, and he still didn’t pick you.”

Nie Mingjue stiffened, rigid shoulders tensing further, and Jin Guangyao’s heart continued to pound in his chest, anticipating the elder’s response.

“At the very least,” Nie Mingjue said, locking eyes with Jin Guangyao, “I can easily say my feelings were genuine. Lan Xichen knows that I care for him, and he has no reason to doubt that. The ones I love can rely on me to be there. Tell me, Jin Guangyao, how does it feel to know that all your love can do is ruin people?”

[prettyrealm]

i love ur blog fr… one of my least favorite things about the tarot community (not just kpop) is how some people alter or water down their readings (or just aren’t perceptive enough) so that their content is more positive and validating for consumability… and the people who choose to be honest and direct get ate up 😭 divination can be harsh. idk why people are here expecting validation or only positive things. most of these idols are not nice!!

if you want a romantic story and enjoy living in denial, go to ao3!! wattpad or something?? y’all are looking for fanfiction. there are soooo many writing blogs on this site.

and i also have soooo much beef with like, pop culture tarot readings on youtube and tiktok that are clearlyyyyyy not too good in quality, but people eat it up blindly because it tells them things that they like to hear and never anything critical. i have a theory about that being one of the reasons why people assume honest readers have bad intentions or are hating on people. i don’t think people realize just how common it is to read on someone and get the vibe that they’re shitty in some capacity, or not even having to rely on intuition and to be directly told that there is something off about someone. idols aren’t usually any better than the average person, and the average person usually has bad traits. period. some are worse than the average person.

also… i have a problem with how it’s seen as perfectly fine to share the positive traits we’re able to pick up on through tarot, but sharing the negatives is seen as invasive?? like girl either it’s all invasive or none of it lmaooo. you’re okay consuming content that makes you feel like you’d be attractive to someone or reading about what their personality is like, but it’s too much when that same person says that they’d potentially be a bigot or have issues with stuff like anger? that’s when it’s too much??? 😭😭

Thank you so much for stopping by to show love!! I really appreciate your perspective and agree with pretty much everything you’ve said. 🩷

People were shocked by @dreamofmetoday and l’s ideal type readings being so specific and descriptive and we didn’t get why until we tapped in with other peoples readings and realized most are just saying very vague things or just things that EVERYONE is looking for in a partner (for example, kind, sympathetic, loyal) or just things that make it easy to self-insert in general. I think the self-insert aspect is a main reason people put such an emphasis on only focusing on the positive.

I also get asks demanding I tell them how I get such specific and detailed answers when it comes to things like homophobia/race/misogyny whatever, and it’s like, that’s just how it works? Makes me wish more people would get into tarot themselves so they could see.

The “romantic love story” crossover stuff that you mentioned is why I think you’ll often come across readings, and even PACs, on here that are like a wattpad story. like you said, many readers know there’s a large audience for this. For example when it comes to PACs, 3 pile PACs are a very quick and easy way to get followers and likes, but overall don’t exert a lot of energy and limit the amount of people who can actually connect with the PAC but then each pile will be filled with nuance, details and specifics and the reader is able to just say, “take what resonates and leave what doesn’t” to get away with it. How is someone even supposed to know what truly resonates and what doesn’t for a future spouse reading anyway? Not to mention, how can these readers suddenly get so much detail for a random pac and then not in their other readings or personal readings? There’s just a lot of predatory behavior in the tarot community unfortunately (thank you to melody’s anon for helping us label this finally too), and in turn, it creates a huge misunderstanding of what to expect from readings when you know nothing about tarot.

Not saying all 3 pile PACs are bad of course btw, because that would be ridiculous. There are of course situations where the 3 pile format makes sense, but a lot of them on here are just baiting.

In regards to positives being welcomed with open arms and negatives being considered invasive, it’s literally just nonsensical and honestly, a little weird (often the result of fetishization or idolization etc. so to say this under the pretense of high morals is odd… to say the least). I’ve seen people say things like “who are readers to decide what’s a negative?” when that’s literally not the case, it’s not a case of the reader “deciding” anything, I’m literally asking specifically about the negative traits. It makes me wonder what questions other readers are actually asking in the first place to even come to the conclusion that we would assigning these traits ourselves. Or the argument that “humans are multifaceted so we shouldn’t assign them blah blah blah” like… yeah… duh they’re multifaceted, which is why there’s literally a positives section? It just seems like they reach for excuses to defend their main point that the negatives of these men’s personalities just shouldn’t be acknowledged. It almost makes me feel like some people make these blogs to even improve their idols overall image on a smaller scale or have more control of the perception of it.

I really LOVE how you said “it’s either all invasive or none of it is” because that’s something Melody and I talk about together all the time. Their love lives and “kinks” aren’t invasive topics, but everything that could ruin someone’s fantasy about an idol is. In the end, you’re only allowed to post readings that let you daydream about being their best friend, boyfriend or girlfriend with no complications or obstacles I guess lol. Thanks again for sending this ask! It was really cool to unpack this and see that there’s a reader/follower on the same page. 🩷

[1julak1]

Fortuitous pt. 1

Sanemi cosplayer x fem!reader

_____________________________

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: So, I'll be completely honest - I have no idea what i'm doing there and why. The idea just popped in my head - as something i'd like to do, haha - but then i thought of making a story out of it. So! I want to say - this is not a typical fanfiction with Sanemi, it's about reader with a cosplayer!

Enjoy!

Since her childhood years, YN has been always viewed as a normal, sweet, intelligent girl. Everybody, always, has been jealous of her knowledge, grades, judged her every move and pointed out smallest mistakes.

But yes, YN has always been a normal girl.

Going into her teenage years, she had plans - ambitions, big hopes for the future, aiming for college and a good middle school to get her ready info further life.

But when she actually got accepted into her new school, she didn't realise how much of a mistake it would actually be.

The first year was going quite well, nothing seemed to be foreshadowing the nightmare that her school days would become. But as YN's best friend - only true friend in class she had - changed schools. Gradually, YN has dropped her grades, and started closing up from others.

Going into second year, her life became an absolute nightmare. Scared of talking to people, teachers, ditching school, getting authorities over her head - it seemed like NOTHING was going well anymore.

Her cousin enraged her, also. She never had perfect relationship with her, but what made her most furious was their conversation weeks ago.

°°°

Why do you even want to switch schools?? With your attitude, you're always going to complain about anything. Everything's going to be the same whatever you do. <

YN gazed at the message, her mind flaring with anger.

The next messages her cousin sent were just self-centered yapping about how she struggled with her own work, her colleagues, her situation, her mood, her feelings - her, her, her, her. Not even once has she thought of YN's feelings. The fact she may not be in total control of the things going on in her life.

> Go fuck yourself

YN texted back, seething the same words trough her gritted teeth.

Since then, she understood that she doesn't want to have anything to do with that bitch.

°°°

YN was scrolling trough Instagram - once again ignoring the fact she should study - and noticed a quite pretty post. A cosplay of her favorite character.

Oh, right! Because there was an obsession YN had. It was Sanemi Shinazugawa - a character of her all time favorite anime.

- Fucking hot.. it would be lucky to have someone cosplay him for me.. -

She stared at the pic for a moment with a blank expression on her face. And then she blinked, because then it clicked.

Usually YN overthinked everything she did - but not this time. She texted the man without hesitation.

> I've got a deal for you???

And then she waited.

Regretted her decision.

Then waited, waited, waited.

It was agonizing, almost. The hope of the man texting back was slowly fading, replaced by a shame caused by her doing. She was so taken over by this revelation that she dreamed of it, until one day, finally, she woke up to a reply.

What kind of deal?? <

Oh now THAT was the moment for action.

Seeing he was active, she carefully chose a reply.

> I'll pay you to cosplay Sanemi for me

Oh now that's new. If you want a pic with me, i won't make you pay. I suppose you live nearby??? <

The girl's face heated up at his words. From embarrassment, but also because he would be willing to take a picture with her for free. But that wasn't what she wanted.

> No, i don't want a picture. I'll pay you, for pretending to be my boyfriend.

He read that. He's seen that.

Silence.

And do I get to be a lil touchy 😏 <

> I'll cut your salary in half

Worth it <

> Is that a yes??

Let's say so. Where do i meet you up, princess? <

> In front of my school tomorrow, 7.50. I'll send you the adress later

YN felt like she needed a cold shower to take that news. And so, she went to the bathroom and spend nearly an hour there, nearly dying from excitement.

Then it was time to tuck herself to bed, to the thoughts of having a.. new boyfriend???

°°°

The next day, YN was waiting for her "boyfriend" in front of the school. And just when she was about to give up to her anxiousness and get inside the building, somebody grabbed her by the hips and she was pulled against a firm chest.

- Hey, princess~! Not like i stalked your profile, but i did stalk your profile. You're looking even cuter in real life than those silly pictures -

- W-WHAT?!! -

YN was so startled, she almost pushed her elbow into the guy's face.

- Are you insane?? Stop attacking, immediately! -

Just in case not to get murdered, the guy let go of her and stepped aside.

And when YN looked up she was even more startled than before. The guy was towering above her, at least a head taller than her. His hair were white, and he had this makeup indicating those iconic scars on his face. He was wearing a simple white button up shirt - with a few top buttons left undone - and black pants that were tight around his waist.

- I-is that a wig..? -

The guy's face expression softened as a chuckle left his lips. She didn't miss the fact that he had purple contacts.

- Oh? No, i dyed them this way. -

He put a hand over her shoulder, bringing her a tiny bit closer to himself.

- You wanted me to be your boyfriend, why so silent now?? Do you not love me?? -

He pouted, enjoying the teasing. YN huffed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him after her.

- Let's just get inside -

They didn't exchange a word while walking, but he changed their position, so that now their hands were entwined together.

As they walked down the hallway, some people who knew YN were eyeing her - and she, deep down, swelled with pride.

°°°

YN had to be honest. Having a man like that walking around with her for the whole day, like a puppy, was satisfying. Her lovely "Sanemi" was all smiley - a little out of character - and his acting skills were perfect. He had no problems with playing pretend, as if he and YN knew themselves for a longer time than just those few hours.

- Wait. What even is your name? -

YN spoke about that matter after the first lesson, when she realised she never asked him this - and there were no informations about it on his profile.

- Oh fuck, right, i never told you. I'm loosing my head here with you, see? -

He let our a chuckle and brushed a hand trough his white hair.

- My name's Aiden. But you can just call me Sanemi, you know. That's what i just am for you, right? -

YN raised her eyebrow questionably.

- You sound pretentious -

- Huh?? No offense. You're just oversensitive -

The girl didn't like his response at all, but decided to just wave it off.

For the rest of the day, she had a loyal puppet running around her like he was over the moon with her.

Maybe he was?

Or what's more possible, he just wanted to be worth the money.

What YN noticed, and wasn't against, was for sure, how touchy he was getting. Seems like his message wasn't just a joke and he really was taking the opportunity. Though they knew each other for like... Max 9 hours, YN didn't complain. It would probably be the only time a man would be touching her anyways.

After school, it was time to pay him off. Aiden got dragged out of the school by his "girlfriend" - while he talked with the friends he apparently made - and when YN made sure they were far enough from familiar people, stuck a bunch of bills into his hand.

- Isn't it too much? -

His purple contacts pierced trough her as his confused face expression almost made her giggle.

- I'm paying in advance -

Her explanation was fairly brief, but Aiden didn't comment it. The thing that surprised him was how she just chose to ignore him as she quickly walked down the street.

The girl jolted in surprise as she felt her hand being grabbed.

- Why are you running away from me? Let me just walk you home -

The white haired man spoke, taking YN's silence as an agreement. When they stood in the door to her house, he did so much as to lean down, kiss her cheek and smile before walking away with a little wave.

- See you tomorrow! -

YN was too stunned to answer to his words, as she stared at him before he disappeared around the corner.

°°°

When she laid in bed, the only thing she could think about were his hands over her, the WHOLE day. She knew she shouldn't, but she felt a tiny squeeze in her heart anytime she recalled how his hands would squeeze her waist or hold onto her own.

And so, even though he wasn't hers, it seemed that YN's "boyfriend" would be what pulls her out of the cage of her own misery.

[fatuismooches]

Smooches!! Hello sweetie pie! ૮꒰ ˶´ ꒳ `˶꒱ა ♡

I just thought this out of nowhere and honestly it may not work but basically, reader (maybe even fragile!reader I’m just a complete sucker for fragile!reader) and Dottore going out of the laboratory and into the icy land that is Snezhnaya to get some materials Dottore needs. But while you two are out, suddenly (somehow) you two get ambushed by maybe some treasure hoarders or perhaps some more elite enemies. And you end up getting hurt in the process. Maybe even to the point you end up bleeding. (Would this actually happen? Probably not bc let’s face it, Dottore is so intelligent and strong like you’ve said before even if this did happen the only other situation I can think of is the Traveler 😭) I also just want to see Dottore be like angered and pissed off at whoever dared to hurt his darling. (Like yes come be my protector Dottore boo boo 😭 💕)

But yeah this may not make any sense or even work but it’s okay!! As I’m writing this we finally got rain here!! And it was a thunderstorm to top it off so hopefully this heat goes down soon. Also to answer your question about my baby <333 (dog) we actually don’t know since we’ve never gotten her tested and we had originally gotten her from the middle of the street. She’s a small dog and a creamy colored with a few darker patches. Although she does look to be like a shih tzu! Okay I should stop talking about my baby 😭 if I could send pictures I would!!! (Also if it’s okay with you: I have a bunch of ideas that I hope to send before I have to inevitably start school, so if you see me spam your inbox I’m so so sorry :c )But I hope you enjoy your week and also enjoy this last week of July!! May all your days be filled with love and happiness, as I give you lots and lots of kisses on your cute cheeks and forehead. And a bunch of cuddles too! Please make sure you’re staying well and not tiring yourself with writing. I love you loads and so does everybody else!!! Mwa mwa!!

-from your dear boo boo bear 🎐 anon! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Dottore's lover getting hurt by someone else always fills my brain with too much brainrot 🚶‍♀️ I too love the idea of a cold "i don't care what happens to anyone + I'm too strong to be hurt" character becoming uncharacteristically angry when someone they care for gets hurt. And yes as you said the chances of you getting hurt are practically in the negatives since he plans for every possibility and circumstance... if there's even the slightest chance you can get hurt he won't do it (ESPECIALLY if it's fragile reader, that's a no-no) but for the sake of fanfiction 🥰 if you do get hurt, oh boy. He doesn't show much emotion on his face other than that cocky smirk usually. But when you get hurt he just has no expression at all, and speaks with absolutely no emotion, no mocking, nothing. And that's how you know he's upset. Now we know that Dottore really doesn't care if his experiments suffer or not, but when he gets the people who hurt you, he'll make sure to conduct the most brutal experiments possible. Not caring when they cry and beg for forgiveness. Debating whether he should kill them or forever drag out their suffering.

...Moving on from that- at least you get the most advanced possible treatment in Teyvat, which means you won't be hurting for too long. And ahh I'm glad you got some rain 🌧 ! Hopefully things cooled down over there, I cant imagine how hotttt it is for you 😭 And omg your baby sounds so cute!! 💖💖 And of course I will always welcome your brainrots! I don't mind the spam at all! Good luck in school too, I know its hard but you got this 💞🥰 Make sure not to push yourself too! Hehe I'm giving you more kisses and smooches! I will enjoy this last week of July, we're one step closer to the fall haha. Ily too!! Make sure to take care of yourself as well 🫶🫶

[trishzerothree]

Hey kid,

first of all, I just want to say that I'm not here to attack you. More the opposite actually.

You don't need to reply to this ask, just read through it and let my words sink in. I won't see your response ever anyways. Usually I would give someone the possibility of talking to me privately if they want to. But in your case I decided against it, there are better ways to vent and talk to than a random young adult. So that's why this is anon.

I would recommend you to not be on the internet this much with 13. But that would be hypocritical of me to say because I was heavily online at that age aa well.

I understand that it's very hard to stop supporting someone, and you may think you know someone, but trust me, you don't. You never actually fully know someone a hundred percent, especially not any famous people that you don't even privately know. Often times people don't even know themselves enough to know how they will react.

I know, it may seem like someone lets you see who they are and they seem like a good person, but you rarely will truly know. For Wilbur's case, he's been called out by others and practically admitted to it himself with a shitty "apology" which was pretty much just him trying to talk his way out of it by making everything about him.

I know it must hurt you to hear this but, you do not know William Gold. You do not know the man behind the camera. The man behind the voice. You only know an image of him that he specifically wanted you and pretty much everyone else to see and believe. That is called manipulation.

Trust me, it can hurt even more if you were manipulated by someone you talked to one on one. I recommend you to listen to Shubble's vod about the abuse. She herself didn't even realise it was abuse and in total there are a lot of ways abuse can show itself. And even then with watching it, I fear you may eventually live through some kind of abuse, most of us do.

If you need time off the internet to get clear with your emotions and to accept that Wilbur is a horrible person, then do so. If you want to scream and swear, then do so. Just don't focus your anger on others, or yourself.

Writing fanfiction can be one way to deal with those emotions, others go outside on a walk and kick a tree or something and scream (I have done that before. Some people are very infuriating. Do recommend). Another option is going onto like beta.character.ai and venting to a bot.

Generally I do not recommend venting to real people that know you, may be because that has ended for me personally badly before tho lol

I genuinely hope that you can learn from what happened as well, become more empathic and better at noticing, realising and accepting abusive behaviour as what it is, abuse.

Goodbye, I hope you live a well and healthy life, young one

What are you, a telepath, how did you know that I wrote fanfiction about Wilbur and Shubble to cope with all this? (I didn’t post it anywhere if anything)

[dracophile]

For ao3 writing thing

🍓🍹🍄

Yay, someone sent some! :D

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

I believe I was in middle school, early 2000s. I rented a book called Dragon's Bait by Vivien Vande Velde from my local library. This book probably had a bigger impact on me than a certain wizard book ever did. I loved it, it started my obsession with dragons, and It ended in such a way that the main characters, Alys and Selendrile, could continue to have many adventures together and eventually fall in love. But it didn't show that part, which i found frustrating at the time. I started daydreaming and imagining those adventures, writing them down in an old notebook. That's right, I wrote analog fanfiction. Mainly because I was like 11 and I had no idea that was a thing on the internet yet. Eventually by browisng I found the old FF.Net, before it coroded away, and live journal and all that and started reading fics for anime I liked, then I finally got the courage to start writing. Dragon's Bait still remains one of my favorite books though (I also like Never Trust a Deadman, Heir Apparent, Companions of the Night by the same author)

I...can't find 🍹??? It looks like a combo of 🥤and 🧃(both drinks with straws?) so...I'll just do both

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

It feels like forever since I've sat and read a fanfic tbh...besides a one shot here and there. But I will say, @fairy-writes is great! I don't know some of the series she writes for, but she does a lot of readerxcharacter here on tumblr and what I read is compelling and emotional with great characterization. Book authors, I already recommended Vivian Vande Velde for a good all ages book. For a bit more adult books, I like Maria V. Snyder's books, Gail Carriger, and Lynn Flewelling

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

Personal lore about me? Um...When I was young, like ages 10, 11, and 12, my parents sent me to horse riding camp during the summer. I love horses, but I wasn't a horse girl. It's just, y'know, Texas and it was an easy one to find nearby and if i had to do summer camp I wanted to be able to ride a horse. Well, that year i was twelve, they decided to try and scare us with the story of a psycho in the woods. Except one of the counselors took it too far and ransacked the cabins a little (no damage but messing stuff up) and then tapping on the windows to scare us. A lot of us were scared and one girl started crying. The councilor in our cabin then told her it wasn't real and they were just trying to scare us, and I overheard her. I had two flashes of emotion then: Anger and the desire for revenge. And I don't know how I thought of this so fast--maybe because I'd started watching horror movies by now and liking them--but I asked her "So who was dragging the sack through the woods by the campfire?" I didn't see that, but I was so adamant I saw that and had such a docile reputation that the counselor ran off to talk to the head counselor. I saw their flashlights in the night. It was the last day of camp anyway but no one got much sleep. One counselor did ask if I lied before my mom came and I said "It's just a story, calm down." I told my mom i probably shouldn't go back again though. That's the only time I've ever gaslit someone I swear XD

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

I don't know of NIck/Sloane would count since Sloane is my OC so like...it's all headcannon there. Since most of my stuff written (well, all of it right now) on A03 is Grimm though, let's go with that. My other favorite ship is Monroe and Rosalee so let's see...I've gone into some on the fic...

One i haven't explored too much is their differences in diet. At the start of their relationship, Monroe would bend over backwards and almost hide his veganism because he'd had issues in the past with others finding it tedious or annoying. He's usually very proud of it, but he doesn't want Rosalee doing the same thing. Eventually, Rosalee had to confront him because his nervousness was making her more anxious than anything. She told him she was fine with him being vegan as long as he was fine with her not being vegan, and Monroe was adamant that he didn't want Rosalee to change a thing. He gets used to the smell of cooking meat again and they find side dishes they can share happily, and sometimes she made an all vegan meal she would enjoy as well. However, after one evening where he woged after an after dinner kiss and had to go on a run, he asked she brush her teeth after dinner just to be safe because the left over taste of meat set off a little blood lust. Rosalee now keeps her teeth very clean after meals.

[bambirex]

Me And Mr. Wolf

Pairing: Geraskier

Characters: Jaskier/Dandelion, Geralt of Rivia

Rating: explicit

Category: m/m

Additional tags: plot what plot/porn without plot, porn with a little bit of plot, sexual tension, resolved sexual tension, roleplay, light dom/sub, doggy style, horny Jaskier/Dandelion, horny Geralt of Rivia, dirty talk, spanking, biting, possessive behavior, rough sex, breeding kink, wolf instincts, (not literally but you'll see), anal fingering, jaskier basically writes smut fanfiction and then gets to experience it, coming untouched

Word count: 3,861

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Geralt looked at him differently, with an emotion in his amber eyes that Jaskier couldn’t quite decipher, but it looked like hunger. And Jaskier tried to signal to him that it was okay to act upon his desires (if they existed at all, of course), but all his attempts were futile. The tension, the lingering glances and touches remained, and Jaskier felt like tearing his own hair out every day.

(...)

All his frustrations oozed onto the piece of paper before him. That was the only way to truly let it all out, by making up an unabashedly horny song using his typical metaphors. It wasn’t as if anyone would ever hear it; this wasn’t the kind of song Jaskier would have ever played in front of a crowd. That was just for him, only he would know who the big bad wolf and the needy bunny of the lyrics were.

Well, Geralt would probably know, too, what with him living his life with the “white wolf” title plastered to him, and the fact he once fondly said that if Jaskier would be an animal, he would definitely be an over-energetic rabbit.

Lucky that Geralt would never find that song.

Author's notes: What the hell is this, I hear you ask. I don't know either. I had a nasty idea and I jumped onto it. Please, check the tags before reading!!!! Comments are super appreciated, but hate commenters will get their kneecaps stolen! (I'll also be very sad and I'll let you know and make you feel embarrassed, so just don't, please)

I don't know how dicks work so you just have to accept whatever I wrote here lol

Read on Ao3

It was a silly song, really.

Sillier than most of Jaskier’s little jaunty songs about horny daughters of fishmongers, or that ridiculous sea shanty about a drunken selkie man.

Jaskier was usually a fine poet; he appreciated the beauty in the world around him and he made sure to translate those into his songs via decorative metaphors. He poured his joy, his heartbreak and his anger into his creations, touching the hearts of many who listened to them and who needed an outlet for their own feelings.

But, he had other emotions besides the most obvious ones that a songwriter usually penned down, very pent-up and frustrating ones that made him grab the bottle of ink one day and write a ridiculous story, which then grew into a very confusing lyrics of a song.

Jaskier and Geralt has been dancing around each other for months, and it was slowly driving Jaskier crazy. Now, he didn’t even know if the witcher liked men, but his behavior was certainly very strange. His touches lingered on longer as he rested his big hand on the small of Jaskier’s back when he escorted him out of a crowded tavern, or when he gently patted him down to check for injuries after Jaskier once again foolishly got caught up in the middle of a hunt. When he walked past Jaskier, his body always brushed into his, even when there was plenty of place.

Sure, these all could have just been the signs of Geralt finally growing more comfortable around the bard and letting himself open up to the possibility of a friendship, but Jaskier enjoyed making up conspiracy theories, especially if it involved his own feelings for his companion. He’s been aching for Geralt since the day he’s laid his eyes on him in the tavern at Posada, and it has only gotten worse the more time they’ve spent together. Jaskier’s heart- and other parts of his body – wanted and needed Geralt so badly, of course he couldn’t help but hope when Geralt’s behavior towards him changed.

There was only one catch, namely, that even though it seemed like Geralt had become more physically affectionate, he still refused to verbalize his needs, or act on them in a more explicit way. Which left Jaskier endlessly second-guessing what this all meant, drinking up these small moments and always craving more. He couldn’t help but notice this strange tension between them whenever they were close to each other. Something heavy has been hanging in the air around them for a while now, fizzling like cracks of lightning, waiting to blow out into a storm. Geralt looked at him differently, with an emotion in his amber eyes that Jaskier couldn’t quite decipher, but it looked like hunger. And Jaskier tried to signal to him that it was okay to act upon his desires (if they existed at all, of course), but all his attempts were futile. The tension, the lingering glances and touches remained, and Jaskier felt like tearing his own hair out every day.

Not even furiously jerking off each night thinking of Geralt’s hands on his body helped. Jaskier’s body was pulled tight like the strings on his lute, ready to snap.

All his frustrations oozed onto the piece of paper before him. That was the only way to truly let it all out, by making up an unabashedly horny song using his typical metaphors. It wasn’t as if anyone would ever hear it; this wasn’t the kind of song Jaskier would have ever played in front of a crowd. That was just for him, only he would know who the big bad wolf and the needy bunny of the lyrics were.

Well, Geralt would probably know, too, what with him living his life with the “white wolf” title plastered to him, and the fact he once fondly said that if Jaskier would be an animal, he would definitely be an over-energetic rabbit.

Lucky that Geralt would never find that song.

Once he was done, Jaskier shoved the paper deep into his bag. He barely even skimmed the lyrics to check if it was coherent at all. His cheeks felt warm, and there was a growing tightness in his pants by the time he was finished. Fuck it all, he thought. He may never be fucked by Geralt, but he could always write down his lustful fantasies using flower language.

--

“I brought an apple for Roach, but I can’t find it for the life of me!” Jaskier groaned as he patted down his clothes, checking every pocket for the ripe fruit. “She’s gonna hate me now.”

“She doesn’t know you were gonna bring her anything,” Geralt replied calmly from the tree trunk he was sitting on, cleaning his sword. “She can’t read minds.”

“Still, it’s so embarrassing,” Jaskier huffed, “I’m trying to impress a lady here, and I’m failing!”

“Isn’t that just the usual story of your life?”

“That was a low blow,” Jaskier murmured under his nose. He rummaged through his bag, but there was still no sight of the apple. “Ah, shit. I think it might be in my other bag.”

Geralt sighed, then reached down for the embroidered bag by his feet. “This one?”

“My hero,” Jaskier cooed, fluttering his eyelashes at him. “I know I can always count on you, my dear.”

Was that a blush on Geralt’s cheeks, or was this a cruel game Jaskier’s eyes played on him?

“You would lose your own head if it wasn’t attached to your neck,” Geralt grumbled as he opened Jaskier’s bag, reaching inside to shorten the process a little bit. He knew that if he’d let Jaskier continue his frantic search, the apple would never see the light of day.

By that time, Jaskier had completely forgotten about the song he wrote a couple days prior, about him and Geralt fucking, disguised as animals. He didn’t even recognize the piece of paper in Geralt’s hand.

It took several moments of heavy silence and seeing Geralt’s eyes widening as he read whatever was written on the paper for Jaskier to realize that it was his horny-frustration song Geralt was reading.

He practically flew over to Geralt to try and snatch it out of his hands, but Geralt was faster, rising from the trunk and holding the paper out of Jaskier’s reach. Jaskier desperately jumped up for it, panic swirling in his chest.

“You wrote a new song,” Geralt stated. His voice was calm as usual, but there was also something else to it. Jaskier didn’t know what it was, but it made chills run down his spine.

“It’s shitty, just a silly little thing,” Jaskier said, forcing out a laugh. He could feel his face flaming, and he was pretty sure Geralt could see it. “I was gonna throw it away. Did you find the apple?”

“The lyrics is interesting,” Geralt said, his eyes drifting back to the paper. He licked his lips, slowly. Jaskier watched his tongue, his own mouth running dry.

“Why would the bunny want to be fucked by a wolf, and not another bunny? Why does he want the wolf so bad?”

“Since when are you so interested in my, I quote, ‘empty nonsense sang by my fillingless pie of a voice’? It’s just a song, Geralt,” Jaskier scoffed. He made another attempt at reaching for the paper, but he was stopped by Geralt’s hand around his wrist. He had a strong grip, not enough to hurt him, but enough to make him halt. Jaskier swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the way his whole body heated up by Geralt’s touch.

Geralt’s eyes darkened as he looked at him. He stepped closer. Jaskier wasn’t all that shorter than him, but right now, it felt like Geralt was towering over him. It made Jaskier feel small and weak, in a way that was equal amounts intimidating and thrilling.

“The bunny seems very frustrated,” Geralt continued. Jaskier felt his breath on his face. He had to bite down on his lower lip to stifle a whimper.

“Poor thing is constantly humping the ground. Why doesn’t he just tell the wolf he wants to be fucked?”

Something about the way he asked that question, and how his pupils dilated, made Jaskier realize they weren’t really talking about the song anymore. Geralt may have been oblivious, but not this much. He clearly understood the metaphors, and now he was giving Jaskier the chance to explain himself. He needed to take this risk: he would either majorly embarrass himself by misinterpreting this whole situation, or he could finally get what he wanted and put an end to this weird tension between them.

“He keeps telling him,” Jaskier said, his voice wavering slightly. “Maybe not outright saying it, but he keeps giving signs. The wolf is just dense.”

Geralt chuckled. “Is that so?”

“He keeps looking at the bunny hungrily, but doesn’t do anything about it,” Jaskier bit his lip, daring to move a little closer himself, until their noses nearly brushed. Geralt didn’t move away. “It’s driving the bunny crazy.”

“Maybe he just wants to eat the bunny. A wolf is a predator, after all.”

“He would have already done that, then. He’d had plenty of opportunities, but he’d never hurt the bunny. He keeps letting the bunny follow him everywhere he goes, and sometimes it almost seems like he likes him. Am I wrong about that?”

Geralt hummed. There was a small smile playing on his lips, barely there, but it still gave Jaskier hope.

“I think you may be right,” Geralt replied. He gently run his thumb across the vein in Jaskier’s wrist, making him shiver. “But maybe the wolf isn’t dense, he’s just never met such an eager bunny before.”

“Are you saying that the big bad wolf is afraid of the tiny bunny?” Jaskier grinned cheekily, unable to help himself. The unexpected slap on his ass made the air in his lungs hitch, and his cock stir in his pants.

“Maybe the bunny should be more careful around the wolf,” Geralt growled. Impossibly, his voice went even deeper. It made Jaskier tremble with need. He didn’t even try to hide the quiet moan that fell from his lips, this time.

“The wolf could destroy him.”

“He wants to be destroyed,” Jaskier breathed. Daringly, he took Geralt’s hand and placed it back on his bum, sighing in bliss when Geralt squeezed it. “He’s been dreaming about it for long months, haven’t you read the lyrics?”

“He wants to be impaled on the wolf’s cock,” Geralt read the line, a teasing edge to his voice. “He wants the wolf to re-arrange his guts.”

“Okay, probably not my finest lines,” Jaskier cringed, “but sue me… I mean, the bunny. He’ll die if he doesn’t get to feel the wolf’s huge dick inside him.”

With a deep, guttural growl, Geralt dropped the paper, then surged forward and smashed his lips against Jaskier’s. His fingers dug into his buttocks through the material of his trousers possessively as he licked into Jaskier’s mouth, his tongue slipping past his lips, coaxing his mouth open. Jaskier obeyed him willingly, moaning as Geralt’s teeth dug into his lower lip.

His own hands flew up, desperately tugging at Geralt’s hair. He pressed his body closer to him, grinding himself against Geralt’s pelvis. He gasped in delight when he felt the hardness in Geralt’s trousers pressing back against him.

This was really happening, that part of his brain that was still able to make coherent thoughts, reminded him. Finally, finally, Geralt understood the message. Jaskier wished it didn’t happen through his embarrassing mess of a song, but he gladly took what he could get.

Jaskier whimpered when Geralt pulled away, desperately chasing his lips. Geralt smirked, giving Jaskier another curt spank that had him arching into his touch.

“How does a male bunny go into heat, by the way?” Geralt laughed. Jaskier groaned, quickly shutting Geralt up with another kiss. He nipped at Geralt’s lower lip, enjoying the way Geralt’s hips shot forward in response.

“Is he still in heat?” Geralt pressed further. He moved to Jaskier’s neck, licking at where his pulse thrummed quickly. He took the pale skin between his teeth, making Jaskier let out a high-pitched whine as he marked him, sucking a deep blue bruise into his neck.

“Yeah,” Jaskier moaned, his aroused body deciding to stop feeling embarrassed about his ridiculous lines. He needed Geralt so badly, he felt like might actually truly die. His body felt like it was going to explode any second, and Geralt’s lips on his neck didn’t help. He swore under his breath as Geralt’s hot breath ghosted over the blooming bruises on his sensitive skin. He was being marked, being owned by Geralt – the sheer possessiveness of it all nearly sent him over the edge right there. He tilted his head back, exposing more of his throat. He was the perfect prey, and Geralt was the perfect predator.

The exact opposites of each other, and yet, that was exactly what made them work.

“The wolf needs to take care of it,” Jaskier panted as he rocked against Geralt’s body. “They ended up fucking in the song, Geralt…”

“Don’t worry,” Geralt drawled into his ear, his large hands travelling over Jaskier’s body, squeezing and pinching and caressing everywhere he could reach, “the wolf wants the bunny just as bad. He’s gonna fuck that little bunny within an inch of his life.”

That in itself nearly made Jaskier come into his pants. He cursed under his breath as he whipped around and fell to the ground onto his hands and knees, not caring the slightest about how ridiculous he must have looked like. His sheer need clouded every single rational thought inside his brain; there was no more shame, no more second-guessing. They wanted the same thing, and it was finally time to tangle up in each other after months of excruciating tension.

“That’s a very needy bunny,” Geralt chuckled behind him. Jaskier lifted his butt higher, wiggling it with a whimper.

“And that’s a very slow wolf,” he shot back, “I thought he said he wanted to fuck the bunny, so what is he waiting for!?”

Geralt slapped his ass again with a growl. Then again, and again, until Jaskier was a panting mess, desperately humping the ground like the bunny in the song. His ass stung with every slap, making Jaskier crave more of the delicious pain. He arched his back needily when Geralt yanked down his pants along with his underwear.

He heard the pop of a bottle opening, and immediately there was a cool, wet finger circling his entrance. He moaned at the realization that Geralt was carrying a certain oil with him, probably hoping to do this for a while now.

“The wolf needs to hurry up,” Jaskier hissed, “if he keeps playing, the bunny will hop onto a different wolf’s dick.”

Jaskier felt quite triumphant as Geralt growled again. He pressed his finger inside not too gently, the stretch burning just enough to make shivers run down Jaskier’s spine. He shut his eyes tight, rocking back against the finger inside him. The callouses on Geralt’s finger felt rough against his sensitive insides, making him keen. He spread his legs further apart, welcoming the second, then the third finger inside. Geralt scissored them, stretching him wide open. He rubbed that sensitive spot inside Jaskier, making him see stars.

“Please,” Jaskier moaned, canting his hips backwards, fucking himself on Geralt’s hand. “The wolf knows the bunny is in heat, he can’t keep making him wait…”

Just like that, Geralt removed his fingers. Jaskier mourned the loss of them for a couple seconds, until he heard the sound of Geralt unbuckling his belt behind him.

There was something so incredibly raw and animalistic in fucking like this, out in the open, with only their pants undone, too impatient to do much foreplay. The whole thing made Jaskier’s blood buzz inside his veins pleasantly; that was what he wrote about in the song, after all. The wolf fucking the living soul out of the bunny, taking him fast and rough, the way they both needed it.

Jaskier gasped as he felt the pressure of Geralt’s cock against his rim. He’s expected Geralt to be big – he hoped he was, even- but the reality of it made him tense up momentarily. He whimpered at the burning ache, clawing at the ground.

“Are we sure the bunny can handle it?” Geralt breathed against his neck, raising goosebumps all over Jaskier’s skin. “He might be too delicate to take the wolf.”

“He’s not,” Jaskier moaned. He took a deep breath and relaxed his muscles as much as he could. Slowly, the head of Geralt’s dick pushed inside. Jaskier’s eyes rolled back into his head as it stretched him, slowly but mercilessly pushing inside him. “Ah, fuck. He can take it, he needs it!”

Geralt caressed his bare hip gently as he buried himself to the hilt. He moved his hips gently at first, letting Jaskier get used to the stretch. Jaskier arched his back impatiently as the ache subsided, giving place to pleasure.

“Come on, now,” he groaned, wiggling on Geralt’s dick and making him swear, “the wolf is a wild animal, isn’t it? He should act like one!”

His voice died on a gasp as Geralt shoved his hips forward. Jaskier felt so full, stretched and owned in every way, and he fucking loved it. He gripped onto handfuls of grass, mouth falling open on loud moans as Geralt started pistoling into him, not holding back anymore.

“Is that what the bunny wants?” Geralt rasped, his fingers digging into Jaskier’s hips, hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises there. His hips shot forward at a maddening speed, knocking the breath out of Jaskier’s lungs. “To be taken apart by the wolf?”

“Yes!” Jaskier screamed. He was surely going out of his mind. This was even better than what he imagined, better than the nasty little fantasy he wrote down: the reality of Geralt’s girth inside him, the delicious pain of being filled to the brim by him, the sound of his deep moans and their skin slapping against one another was beyond everything Jaskier has ever imagined. It was all so nasty, so absurd in a way that thrilled him to no end.

Geralt let go of his hips to drape himself across Jaskier’s back, his body covering his and pushing him further into the grass. He braced himself with his hands on the ground by Jaskier’s head, his hips thrusting in and out of him without any support – it really felt like they were a pair of wild animals coupling. Geralt growled, and Jaskier whined, their sounds creating a confusing, sinful orchestra.

Geralt tilted his hips and drove the head of his cock straight into Jaskier’s prostrate. Jaskier cried out, pushing his own hips back to meet Geralt halfway. There was a tiny string of drool dripping down his chin as he was getting fucked out of his mind, jaw hanging slack and eyes half-lidded in bliss.

“The wolf is going to come all over the bunny’s pretty bum,” Geralt whispered into his ear. He grinded himself into Jaskier’s sweet spot, making them both moan in unison. “Gonna show everyone who the bunny belongs to.”

That sounded wonderful, the idea of Geralt’s cum joining the decoration of bruises on his hips, but Jaskier had different ideas.

“No,” he whimpered, twisting his head to look back at Geralt. His witcher’s eyes were dark, his hair escaped his ponytail, messily framing his face. The strong, wild white wolf, so dangerously beautiful. And he was Jaskier’s.

“The bunny wants to be bred,” Jaskier moaned, face burning with his words that stumbled out of his mouth carelessly, his brain to mouth filter even flimsier now that he was mad with lust, all his darkest fantasies coming to life as he was coming apart, speared on his wolf’s cock.

“He wants to be bursting with the wolf’s seed.”

The sound that ripped out of Geralt’s chest would have been terrifying in any other situation. Right now, it made the heat coiling inside Jaskier’s belly flare up even more.

“The wolf’s gonna breed him full,” Geralt rumbled, driving himself impossibly deeper inside Jaskier, “gonna pump a litter into the bunny.”

By the gods and all the higher entities out there, this shouldn’t have been the sentence that made Jaskier blow his load with an embarrassingly loud, half-sobbing half-screaming moan- but then again, everything they’ve done today was so wrong in all the best ways, Jaskier shouldn’t have been surprised, really. His vision blurred for a couple moments as he spilled onto the ground beneath him, his body trembling and twitching with the force of his orgasm.

His hole tightened around Geralt, making Geralt practically howl as he desperately chased his own completion. He sunk his teeth into the back of Jaskier’s neck, biting down hard on the skin until Jaskier screamed, his spent cock twitching one more time as the wonderful pain exploded in his nerve endings.

Geralt kept his teeth around his neck as he fucked him, growling and hissing as he reached the edge. His hips stilled inside Jaskier, and he let out a shaky breath as he came deep inside him. Jaskier closed his eyes, his lips curling into a tired, but very pleased smile as Geralt emptied his load into him.

They stayed like this for a while, Geralt still inside him, panting against Jaskier’s back. He gently kissed over the bitemark on Jaskier’s neck, soothing the pain with his tongue. Jaskier sighed happily, a very pleasant exhaustion settling into his bones.

“And you say my songs don’t have power,” Jaskier chuckled tiredly, “how long do you think we would have kept this stupid façade up otherwise?”

Geralt hummed softly, kissing Jaskier on the cheek gently. Nowhere was the animalistic horniness now, seeping out of them as they both came down from their high.

“Your metaphors are incredibly on the nose,” Geralt murmured, “at least you could have made some effort and not make the wolf white, or the bunny brown with blue eyes.”

“Leave my horny song alone!” Jaskier whined. “That was my only outlet!”

“Not anymore,” Geralt grinned, gently cupping Jaskier’s jaw and making him turn his head to kiss him on the lips, sweetly, languidly, until Jaskier practically melted against his mouth.

“Not anymore,” Jaskier repeated with a dreamy sigh. He pecked Geralt on the lips one more time, before he patted his bicep with a smile. “Now, as much as I like how this all turned out, I think the big bad wolf should pull out of the little bunny now. We still haven’t found that apple for Roach.”

“Hmm. I thought the bunny would like to go for another round. He could show the wolf how well he can hop. On the wolf’s dick, maybe.”

Jaskier huffed out a laugh, but he didn’t have the heart to argue. Instead, he gently pushed Geralt off and flipped them around with a triumphant grin.

[sofoulandfairaday]

what other ships do you ship aside from bellamort?

Almost all the canon ones, to varying degrees: Belladolphus, Lucissa, Drastoria, Hinny, Romione, Grindeldore.

I have only ever written about the first three in fanfiction, however (aside from Bella x Voldemort, of course).

I enjoy reading both Jily and Snily but mostly in one-shots because I cannot bring myself to read multiple-chapter stories for these couples unless they are part of a bigger story.

You see, I tend to enjoy fanfics despite the romantic element, most of the time, and not because of it. I like to read stories about characters and their struggles, especially in the first wizarding war, and not ones that talk about how x and y fell in love. The only exception are probably Bellamort stories, and even then I'm very picky.

I don't ship it as much as I did, but my first OTP was Sirius x Bellatrix (i know, i know). I've also read and liked Severus x Narcissa, Rabastan x Andromeda (but there are no good ones around, unfortunately), and various combinations of those characters (with lots of drama and unrequited pining).

Also, I can read pretty much anything that is plausible and well-written, but I'm very quick to close fanfics if there are elements of them that I dislike. I find character bashing in general to be stupid and lazy writing, no matter which character it is. If you can't write a character, find a way to write him out of the story and leave it at that. Taking your anger out at fictional characters by treating them like Saw does with his victims has always puzzled me.

Also, if the ideas are good but the writing is horrible, I will close the story and read something else (although regrettably). I might stick around longer if the writing is amazing and the ideas are meh, but eventually, I'll get bored.

Something I can't stand is self!insert fanfictions and ones with "y/n" in them. They are usually horribly written and just straight-up porn, which would be fine on its own, except they are so cringy I can't look at them. They give me so much second-hand embarrassment.

Most of the fics I read are in my mother tongue (Italian) anyways. I don't have an account on English fanfic websites, so I mostly go there if I receive a link or if I'm looking for something specific that doesn't exist in the Italian fandom.

[bicheetopuff]

I saw you commenting on the anime's decisions on how to characterize Bakugo. I get the anger, but my usual problem is I've seen this type of anger across several manga fandoms when anime studios change things unnecessarily, and the result is always the same. The anime studios keep doing whatever they are doing. I'm not saying the anger in invalid, just that I'm all out of craps to give about it because usually anime studios make whatever decisions they want. While Bones does seem to have a need to add filler and humor in where it isn't needed, they are more faithful than some anime studios I've seen. They at least keep to major plot points and don't try to entirely rewrite the tone of the series, which is a level of disrespect I've heard of happening before. Or worse, adding entire arcs and seasons that weren't originally there. So, I'm at least thankful that Bones mostly follows the manga, even if it does add filler. There are many other mangas that have gotten treated way worse XD. I'm not saying people can't complain about it btw, but I just think that Bones is far from the worst or even a particularly noteworthy offender as far as anime studios go.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Bones as a studio. Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood was a masterpiece from start to finish. Noragami was also great in my opinion, although I’m not sure how faithful to the manga they were cuz I haven’t read it. I’ve also heard really great things about Mob Psycho 100 although I haven’t read or watched it.

And yea they stay pretty faithful to mha as well but it’s just the small random things they choose to change that just adds up and makes me not want to watch the anime. And their filler/movies aren’t great because they’re not faithful to characterization specifically. No offense to anyone that likes the first movie specifically but, that movie was written like poorly written fanfiction. The characterization was awful.

But you’re right, there’s not much use in caring about the dumb things anime studios do especially when other great mangas were adapted far worse on screen, mainly in the seinen genre (Tokyo ghoul, The Promised Neverland and Berserk is what came to mind for me).

It’s just frustrating to see one of the best written characters in the story get completely undermined by the anime studio. Not even the anime studio, more so the directors most likely. There’s still plenty of anime only watchers that like bakugo but most of the time it’s cuz he’s “strong, loud, and tough,” not because of his actual development as a character because the anime doesn’t show his development well. Which it’s fine for the studio to continue to cater to the side of the audience that only cares about his brawn but I feel like there’s ways to do that without going backwards in his character development. But they just kinda keep doing it and it’s gonna make the more obvious parts of his development not make sense and considering how many more people watch the anime over reading the manga, mha in general might come across as poorly written and that generalization is gonna fall onto hori by the number of fans that only watch the anime.

Luckily though hori only really cares about his Japanese audience and I think a majority of fans there keep up with mha manga as much as they do the anime thanks to shonenjump so I’m not really worried. I’m just slightly frustrated and a little disappointed by how they’re handling his character so far this season (mainly cuz I know my irl friends are gonna talk mad shit about how much they hate him and I can’t say anything cuz manga spoilers) but at the end of the day I have no control of what the anime studio decides to do. If they fuck up, they fuck up and in Japan that’s gonna reflect more on them than it’ll reflect on hori so🤷🏽‍♀️

[cg29fics]

I posted 59 times in 2022

That's 10 more posts than 2021!

41 posts created (69%)

18 posts reblogged (31%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cg29

@cg29fics

@tracybirds

@drileyf

@alexthefly

I tagged 57 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#cg29fics - 57 posts

#thunderbirds fanfiction - 57 posts

#thunderbirds are go - 48 posts

#thunderbirds - 47 posts

#thunderbirds original series - 26 posts

#thunderbirds fandom - 25 posts

#thunderbirds are go fanfiction - 24 posts

#tagficgone - 17 posts

#virgil tracy - 14 posts

#gordon tracy - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 30 characters

#thunderbirds are go fanfiction

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Rules: share the first line of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends.

Thank you @myladykayo for the tag. Here are my last 10 stories - All Thunderbirds fics ☺️

1: Holding Hands - Standalone story in my Bring on the Fluff collection.

The tiny hand clutched his little finger, blue sparkling eyes stared at him with such intensity and trust.

2: Avalanche - Ongoing. Line from the 1st chapter.

The wind was calm, and the snow fell gently to the ground.

3: Reflections - Complete. Line from the 1st chapter - 2nd line as the first is directly from the episode the fic is based on.

Scott’s heart lurched at the pure panic emanating from Virgil’s voice, but there was nothing he could do as he watched Thunderbird Two squeal across the runway with dark heavy flames springing forth.

4: Radiant - Standalone story in my Bring on the Fluff collection

Sea bubbles frothing on the waves of change.

5: Breakfast in Bed - Standalone story in my Bring on the Fluff collection

A tiny knock on the door woke her from her sleep, mother instincts immediately kicking in she rolled over and looked at the door where her eldest was peeking through a small crack.

6: Improv Writing - 3 mini stories in my Pick & Mix Collection. Line from the 1st mini fic.

Little Scott Tracy sat in his treehouse gazing out at the sight.

7: Holding On - Standalone story in my Bad Things Happen Bingo collection

"Virgil come in, do you read me?"

See the full post

26 notes - Posted March 22, 2022

#4

Two Fics

Not writing much at the moment so sharing some older stories - The following are 2 fics that I’ve been meaning to stick on this side-blog for a while.

@psychoseal here they are 🥺

Tagging a few others who might also want to read… @janetm74 @drileyf @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @thundergeek59 @bonsaiiiiiii @katblu42

Warning: The fics below the cut ⬇️ contain a character death 🥺

Hands

His head was bowed, his eyes glaring with anger at his hands. They were large, usually so strong, and rough from years of rescues. Yet, at the same time they could sketch complex details onto a pad, they could glide across a piano and make sweet melodious music spring forth, or they could help him to fix something that had broken. They had never failed him. Today, when they had been grasping desperately onto someone he cared about, they had.

Pure rage shot from his eyes and before he knew what he was doing he was up on his feet and those hands that he had relied on so much smashed into the mirror. Shards of glass scattered, blood oozed creating intricate patterns on his palms. It’s what they deserved. They had grown strained and weak. They had given in, they had let go, and his eldest brother had fallen…

“Virgil…”

He lifted his gaze his eyes meeting a sad sky blue. “S…Scott?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he sighed at the state of his brothers’ hands, “you’ve hurt yourself.”

“Deserve it.”

“Not your fault.”

“Couldn’t hold on… I… I let go.”

“Not true… I did… Virg, you didn’t notice but the rope holding you was close to snapping from the combined weight, if I hadn’t let go we both would have fallen… You’re my little brother, I love you, and there was no way I was going to let you get hurt.”

“But you… You did, and now you’re…”

“I know…”

See the full post

28 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

#3

This week’s Fic Back Friday is the 1st chapter from an ongoing WIP

🏷 if you would like to be tagged in any fic posts then let me know 😊

@janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @ak47stylegirl @thundergeek59 @dragonoffantasyandreality

Lucille

C1: The Unseen Woman

You all know about International Rescue and you've all met the faces behind the team. Jeff Tracy and his five boys; Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon, and Alan. You will also know the others who sometimes join them on their missions, and the rest of the family who live on the island. These are the ones you know, but me, well, unfortunately we haven't personally met. You will have caught a glimpse of my face though. My features are etched into Virgil and I'm in many a photo scattered throughout their island home. You will have also heard about me. Most likely through wistful tears, or a happy memory shared between the boys and their father beneath the stars.

The reason we have never met is because I lost my life when the boys were just children. Two of them too young to understand where I had gone, why they couldn't see me, and why I was never coming home. The older three, they did understand what had happened, but were still too young to deal with such raw feelings, and because of that tragic day they were forced to grow up way too fast!

If I could change that day, change that moment that took my life, if I could spare them the pain of losing me then I would do so in a heartbeat, but when the avalanche that took my life hit, I had to make an instant choice. Protect my own life or protect the life of the child I was holding in my arms. Of course, I chose the life of my child and I will never regret the decision I made. I used my body to shield them and let the ice-cold snow hit me with its full force. I kept them wrapped tightly in my arms, begged them to stay awake, to keep breathing, and cling onto their life, even though I knew mine was slipping away…

And that's why you've never met me because that was the day my life ended. However, even though it did end that day, my soul didn't! You see, I continued to watch over them. I could never truly leave them. How could I? They were… Correction, they are my everything! So, even though you've never met me, I have been there throughout it all! The highs and the lows. The tears of sadness and of joy, and the moments that anyone who truly knows them would fill you with utter pride!

So, I would like to introduce myself. I am a wife, I am a mother, and I am the one who watches over International Rescue, making sure I am there to catch them whenever they fall. My name is Lucille Tracy and this, well this is my story!

You can read the other 3 chapters over on Ao3 or FFNET. User Name - CreativeGirl29: 4 chapters currently posted, updates have been very slow but do happen.

30 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

#2

Virgil Drabbles

Since I’m going to be reading these to help me continue writing them I thought I’d use them for this weeks Fic Back Friday.

Tagging some who are usually tagged and a few of you who I know enjoy Virgil fics 💚 If you’d like to be tagged for this or any other fic updates then please let me know 💛

@janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @ak47stylegirl @dragonoffantasyandreality @burningcowboyhoagietaco @inertplanetary @womble1 @bonsaiiiiiii @gumnut-logic

Note:

Each chapter is 100 words only.

I will be posting up to chapter 12 today then sharing more next Friday until I’ve caught up with my Ao3/FFNet pace.

Virgil is the main focus of these and is the middle child.

Chapter 1: 15th August

I’ve been here before and I always swear, ‘Never Again!’

But then…

It’s over and for a few seconds, which always feels longer, I hear nothing. Then the sound I’ve been waiting for… That first cry, followed by:

“Congratulations, it’s a boy!”

The relief washes over me, as I look to my husband. The obvious pride flowing from him as our new baby is placed in my arms, and his soulful eyes lock with mine.

“Do you have a name?” Someone asks.

It’s at that moment I know I’ll be here again.

“Yes,” I nod, “his names Virgil… Virgil Tracy.”

**

Chapter 2: Expert

See the full post

33 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Bring on the Fluff

The 3rd short story from my fic collection ‘Bring on the Fluff.’ From this self-created fluffy prompt LIST  Feel free to use the prompts that I’m working through. This can also be found on Ao3 & FFNet - CreativeGirl29

Previous: C1 & C2 

Holding Hands

The tiny hand clutched his little finger, blue sparkling eyes stared at him with such intensity and trust. He was an unexpected gift, and early to arrive. He was their first born. His baby boy. His Scotty!

He had sworn he’d do anything for him. Yet, for nearly 9 years he had failed. No, it wasn’t his fault that this had happened, this was the result of another man’s insatiable desires. Nevertheless, he still couldn’t help but blame himself. Scott had already lost some of his childhood when his mother had passed, now he had been left to raise his four younger brothers he would have discarded the rest. However, despite not being there to witness it he knew his son would succeed. He would continue on and would become the man he was destined to be. Every day he would make him proud.

Yet despite the signal he had sent out he hadn’t expected this. His son was here.

Deep down he knew he shouldn’t be surprised, after all Scott was so much like himself. If there was the tiniest bit of hope, then no matter how long it took he would persevere, and he had. His Scotty had found him. His back was to him, he was within touching distance, yet he was falling…

No!

He reached out grabbing hold… Those same eyes, no longer a child's. Blue. Sparkling. Trust filled with surprise shimmering through. His now adult hand clutched his and he held on… “I’ve got you son.” and he knew he wouldn’t let go again.

44 notes - Posted February 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[unityrain24]

rambling ahead

so on any of my fics that i write about something significant that i haven't personally experienced, i always put something in the notes saying something along the lines of "i tried my best to write this, but i don't personally experience it, so if you are a person who has experienced this, please let me know if i wrote anything incorrect/offensive so i can fix it!".

Most commonly, i do this for genderfluidity, as the character i write about is loki (who is. genderfluid). While I myself am queer, i am not genderfluid, so I cannot have first-hand experience. I feel it is important to let people know they can correct me if i unknowingly wrote anything incorrect/offensive. (which has not happened yet, in fact i've gotten various assurances from genderfluid commenters i am doing a just fine job). The note i leave isn't asking for an in-depth lecture, as i'm not a completely clueless person looking desperately for knowledge, it's just a little short thing telling them to let me know if I made a small mistake somewhere.

Anyways, today i got a comment on a fic i posted a year or two ago (it was my first published fic, actually), which was about loki & genderfluidness. The comment was on the routine note i was just explained, and the comment was:

heyy, maybe i could help you with some stuff, im just a beginner myself, but i see things very fast, so i could help with that, and to make the genderfluid thing more realistic, my friend is genderfluid, so i have some experience with it. its okay ifyou dont do anything wit this, wut if you do, feel free to message me:)

Which just seems like... a sort of strange comment?? (also i do feel bad putting their comment out here so i might delete it)

i wasn't asking for help

while i may have been a beginner when i wrote the fic, that was a year or two ago?? I have written plenty since then. While i am by no means a seasoned writer, i am hesitant to call myself a beginner beginner, at least in fanfiction terms (especially when this commenter only had three fics, all from this year, one of which was actually written by/with an ai, so even if i am a beginner, objectively i would still have more experience than them. we would not be the same level of beginner)

how would you have experience with being genderfluid if you aren't genderfluid.

'i am experienced in genderfluidity because i know a genderfluid person' would honestly be kind of funny if things like that weren't said all the time about various subjects (example: "is an expert on autism because my son is autistic" or "i can't be racist, my neighbor is black") (not perfect examples but)

again how would your view of genderfluidity be any "more realistic" than mine if neither of us are genderfluid

also the implication that mine is not realistic/ or at least lacking quality, while theirs wouldn't

also this assumes i don't know any genderfluid people myself?? which isn't true. i have met numerous genderfluid people. that doesn't give me experience

again i wasn't asking for help in my note, and if i did want help, i would just... ask a genderfluid person?? Or read things by genderfluid people? If i wanted help understanding/writing genderfluidity, why would i ask a non-genderfluid person?

also, i made this fic a year or two ago, and it's completed (and marked as such). Offering help on a completed fic is a bit strange?

also, what does "i see things very fast" mean

Now i'm not posting all this because i am mad or super-offended at the commenter!! Honestly, the comment was from wattpad, not my usual ao3, so the person very well could have been a middle schooler or something. And even if not, they seemed like they were trying be very nice/helpful. The post is long not out of anger, but because i found it a bit strange and also i have the inability to shut up.

Also i have no clue how to reply to this person

[usuallyrated2stars]

Raph and Mikey's relationship as "Happiness" by Hobo Johnson.

Hear me out.

Before anyone misinterprets this at all, I will say that I got this idea 5% from my own personal projection, 30% from popular fanfiction, and 65% actual canon. If something seems to be a stretch, it's probably because of that small 35%.

Okay, the song describes the guy realizing that he hurt someone who is naturally talented and is going to live a great life and do things that will greatly surpass him. The twist is that the guy is happy that they will because he still very much cares for and loves this person, and this causes him to reflect on how desolate his own existence is.

In comes Mikey. Mikey is shown to, while not having obvious shows of brilliance like Donnie or the around-the-clock leadership capabilities like Leo, still be incredibly talented. He is the most natural potential according to Splinter, he is quite agile, can adapt well in stressful situations like Dimension X, can calm down or bring up the people around him, creative, DOES have moments of great intelligence, has likely saved his family when all hope was lost more times than I count, the list goes on. However, these things are hard to see if you aren't constantly forced to look past the inattentiveness, hyperactivity, and "stupidity".

In comes Raph. Alongside Mikey, there is a common theme of the negative traits overshadowing the good, but with Raph it is so much worse. His negative traits almost completely define who he is and what he's known as, the angry one. He has explosive anger, is more impulsive, prone to violence, is less than soft with emotions, is usually in the wrong in situations, doesn't possess moments of intelligence like Donnie, not to mention he's always second place to 'almighty Leo', and don't get him started on 'cute, perfect Mikey'. While his teasing and roughhousing with his brothers should NOT be associated with his feelings of anger, jealousy, and inadequacy since they are NOT the reason he does that (obviously it's just a sibling thing), they can still be associated. (Look at the "angry planet makes angry people" episode)

Either way, this is not an analysis on that so I'm moving on. Mikey is seen to be the most teased by Raph. There is roughhousing and mocking (ONCE AGAIN IT IS OF SIBLING VARIETY I AIN'T NO RAPH BASHER) between them the most, a guy who likely only sees the bad in himself and a guy who is so jam packed with potential to do amazing things. Imagine Raph playing around with Mikey and quickly having a quiet realization that the little brother he is messing with has that much talent. That he has so many more positive traits that Raph just can't find in himself. That he's made fun of so many of Mikey's ideas/warnings that ended up being great/true.

He reflects on how Mikey is compared to himself, and sees nothing really good. Raph is really, truly happy and loves Mikey to death, he believes that Mikey deserves the absolute world. He knows that he can do it. But what about himself?

Raph just hurts others and himself. He's loyal, sure, but it's shown to be to a fault on multiple occasions. He's a good fighter, sure, but Leo will probably always be better. He's a protector, sure, but when he succeeds he is labeled as impulsive and unthinking, and when he fails his brothers get extremely hurt and thrown into comas. There's always gotta be something wrong with him and it's a pit that he thinks he's not getting out of, since he's already tried so many times before. I'm never gonna change, I'll probably get way worse, at best stay the same.

He continues to tease Mikey anyway, maybe even more, with this revelation. Anything to distract himself from the impending dread of this thoughts, but all it ends up doing is providing his brain with more ammunition on how he's such a bad brother and that when Mikey finally leaves his 'abusive' grasp then he'll go on to be happier without them, or him. Raph really hopes that he'll find happiness.

((Bonus for comfort: Mikey finds out about this and reassures Raph that he wouldn't be here today without him, that there is so much good and talent that Raph has as well, and that Mikey's not hogging it all. They both tell each other that they'd rather die than live without the other.))

(Listen to the song!! Very tasty (: There are some things I didn't talk about in the post because I went :P halfway, please listen to it!! Adds context!!)

(Also if you hate me now because of my very crappy analysis/comparison post, please tell me in case I completely missed a mark/srs)

[flydotnet]

Répondez, s'il-vous-plaît (it's a fanfic in English don't flee)

WHUMPTOBER 2023 DAY 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?” Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

Up until yesterday, I had no idea what I'd write for this day. We're a third in and some days do have prompts that boggle my mind.

Fortunately, I got out of there by going to Paris on Friday, seeing good ol' Prism, and wow actually I know what characters I'm gonna use for this oneshot! Thanks Prismou!

Don't look into the actual context around this scene too hard. Like for "Egg Basket" from June, it's in reference to a yet-unpublished piece of fanfiction I've been working on with friends. We still can't release any concrete info about it, so for now, you'll have to do with Vague Setting That's Clearly French.

I'm a bit cheeky about it, though, I'll admit, since I purposefully gave this fic a French title to allude to the fact this is set in France with mostly French characters who speak French among themselves. What's funny is that I've never seen "RSVP" in anything ever in my daily life, only "je vous prie de bien vouloir répondre". Maybe it's one of those Parisian sayings I don't get. I just thought it really fit the fic.

------------------------------

Répondez, s'il-vous-plaît

Summary: répondez s'il-vous-plaît (RSVP): French for please reply. Though francophones may use more usually "prière de répondre" or "je vous prie de bien vouloir répondre", it is common enough.

Everyone has their issues, and sometimes, it's bound to bubble up to the surface. JB and Maxine just… didn't plan on finding out their friend's the way they did.

Fandom: Captain Tsubasa (with a good dose of universe mixing and OC/Canon!)

Word Count: 1K words

AO3 version available here.

------------------------------

Today was supposed to be one of those innocuous days where her best friends aren’t playing soccer for a living for a couple weeks, where they just spend the day together talking about whatever and doing what friends do: hang out, drink, eat, walk, pet a dog, pet a horse. Whatever Maxine was meaning for it to be, it wasn’t playing nursemaid.

Instead, it’s turned into a shitshow and she doesn’t know where to direct the anger that’s swelled inside of her. Maybe it isn’t even anger, who knows. It could be frustration, it could be disappointment – all she knows is that, whatever it is, it’s drowning in slimy concern.

She should’ve known something was afoul when Yuzo wasn’t responding to her text messages. He’s usually so uptight about responding to her in time, he’d have had apologized for responding as little as half an hour later, to some of the most useless stuff possible. This man would apologize for not giving his seat in the subway to a barely-showing pregnant woman because he couldn’t actually stand on his right foot, courtesy of a practice mishap.

All in all, Maxine was expecting something iffy by the time JB and she concluded they both didn’t have news from their pal – and she wishes it was just him oversleeping on his day off, or having forgotten to respond by misplacing his phone somewhere, or some other stupid explanation that wasn’t… that.

When JB and she arrived here, they were greeted by a door left open, if just barely, and a passed-out Yuzo hanging on the floor of his own kitchenette. Most odd was that he was dressed to go outside and had in fact not even taken off his coat nor his scarf, not even his beanie, which was still on his head. On the counter, barely put there, was what clearly was a doctor’s notice with a medicine list.

Unfortunately, doctors speak a language only pharmacists can decode, and neither JB nor Maxine is one. She only knows the names of horse medicine and ketamine isn’t going to help Yuzo – at least, not to rise back to his feet, because God knows it can help with other issues.

“Max, what’s happening to him?” JB asks, downright panicked.

This happens to be how she realizes she’s never explained shit to him and instead just sent him on a wild goose chase for the nearest pharmacy.

“I’m not entirely sure, to be honest, but I think it’s, uh…” She sighs. “How did you even make yourself so sick to begin with, you idiot…?”

“It’s my fault, I’m sure of it.”

“Why would it be?”

JB is the kindest man alive on Earth, but this is stupid.

“I was the one who had the flu first! I must’ve given it to Yuzo and now he’s…” he points at the man on the sofa, “like that!””

“JB, you’re not the sole cause why Yuzo’s like this, I’m certain of that. You were nowhere near as bad as that.” She slowly inserts a thermometer inside his mouth as she speaks, cradling his head with her other hand. “Maybe he’s not used to our European bugs yet. He’s not been here for that long, after all.”

“Maybe I should’ve been more cautious?” There he is, freaking out again. “Maybe if I had worn a mask, or told him not to come inside, he’d be—”

“JB, he was going to catch something eventually. We all have caught something on the subway or the RER. Stop worrying about how he got it, it’s not going to serve much use.” She takes the thermometer out and cusses as soon as the number comes into view. “Shit.”

“It’s bad?”

Maxine glances back at Yuzo. He’s frowning in a fitful sleep, everything about him soaking in sweat and what may be tears, his skin white as his blanket and yet so bright where it’s concerning.

“It’s bad-bad. His fever’s over forty.”

She puts the thermometer back where it came from: the mess of things JB found at the foot of the sofa when they came in.

“What?! That’s…”

“I’m gonna get a bucket and some water, he—”

As Maxine gets up, she feels a grip on her forearm that makes her stop dead in her tracks. The grip isn’t very strong, far from it, but it’s vicious: now staring at her, or trying his hardest to at least, is Yuzo, whose half-open eyes with unfocused irises are freezing her blood in place.

He’s trying to tell her something, as far as she can tell, but it’s gibberish to her. She can’t even tell if it’s her Japanese that’s not good enough to understand it (and it wouldn’t surprise her) or if Yuzo really is incoherent in his speech. All she can tell is that he’s calling out to… someone. First it was his mother, but then, it sounded like names Maxine had never heard about.

“JB, can you get the bucket of water and a washcloth, please?” She asks as she lowers back to her boyfriend’s level. “I’m afraid of what would happen if I left him.”

“I’m on it!”

“Thanks a lot,” she tells her best friend before focusing back on their shared companion. “What were you trying to tell me, honey…?”

Unfortunately, she gets no response from him as he slips back into his fitful sleep.

----------------------------

It takes around thirty minutes before, at long last, Yuzo reemerges from whatever hell of the mind he was stuck in. It’s clear as soon as she can actually see something in his eyes, not just haze and a sort of desperate plea.

“Ah, you’re awake!” JB says as he rushes to the sofa, the bag of medicine in hand.

Yuzo flinches at the noise, gritting his teeth.

“I think you’re too loud, his head must hurt.”

“Ah, crap! Sorry, pal!”

Maxine can’t help but sigh with fondness, then focus back on their patient.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hurts,” he replies in Japanese, and that’s how Maxine can interpret it.

“What’s he saying?”

She lifts her eyes to JB, who looks discernibly worried out of his skin, rubbing his arms for warmth.

“He isn’t feeling too good, from what I can tell. It’d be more obvious if he spoke French, but it’s not a surprise he’s fallen back to Japanese.”

“Yeah, true…”

It seems as if even hearing this conversation has awaken something in their friend, whose arms barely manage to lift him up.

“Maxine…?” His voice is hoarse, his barking cough sounds wet. “What’re you doing here…?”

Both JB and she let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, good, you can actually speak coherent French! That means you’re doing better.”

“What happened, I’m… confused?”

JB runs to her side, smiling a little – no doubt from relief.

“Sorry for that, pal! We found you passed out on your floor earlier. You really worried us, you know?”

Yuzo looks like he’s trying to solve an equation with two unknowns on the fly to very mixed results.

“I don’t know what the doctor diagnosed you with, Yuzo, but it must be terrible. Do you mind if I take your temperature?”

“N-no, go for it.”

They all stand in silence as she does. It takes longer than the first time, and despite how heavy it makes the air as a result, it’s somewhat reassuring. Eventually, it beeps again, and this time, Maxine’s eyes don’t bulge out of their sockets.

“Thirty-eight point nine,” she announces. “It’s not good by any means, but it’s better than before, that’s for sure.”

Yuzo stares at her with

“Hang on, Max! We’ve still got all that stuff!”

As she stares at the bag in JB’s hands, she feels utterly stupid.

“Oh, snap, you’re right.”

It only takes them a couple minutes to get a couple of pills inside Yuzo, who doesn’t even protest – his throat does, but he doesn’t. In the meantime, she observes him, watches the colour on his face slowly come back even if he remains ashen pale compared to usual anyway.

She has questions swirling through her mind, some dating from before today and some so fresh they still feel crispy. She waits to ask them, sits through JB making sure his friend isn’t going to lose consciousness again. For a second, she wonders if he knows, so less puzzled yet just as heartbroken as she was earlier.

“Hey, Yuzo… Can I ask you something?” She eventually says.

He looks back at her

“Earlier, when your fever spiked, you said some things out loud.” Her eyes harden. “I doubt you remember much from it, but I still wanted to ask: do you know what you could’ve said? I think you were talking in Japanese.”

He takes time to process. Jesus, Maxine, you know he’s already struggling with French and a fever, don’t make both harder on him.

“It… depends. I was deep in a dream, I think.”

“You clutched Max’s arm and told her stuff as you cried,” JB adds.

Yuzo changes faces immediately, losing all confidence.

“Oh… I know what I must’ve said.” He takes a pause, gets a coughing fit out (she hands him a glass of water as soon as it’s done). “You said… You said you’d never leave me.” He gulps. “At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what I said.”

“Do you know who you were saying that?”

“My mother… presumably.”

He doesn’t sound sure, but it doesn’t prevent JB from wanting confirmation, even if his face is hesitant.

“You said that to your… mom?”

“I don’t see anyone else I could’ve asked in my sleep…”

“Not even one of your friends or teammates?”

Maxine prefers to make sure because, come to think of it, she’s been dating this man for months and he’s never told her about his family. Every time she asked, he recoiled and she dropped the topic entirely. Which means…

“No, I’ve never been ill in front of them.”

“It’s normal to call out to your mom when you’re sick, though, I do it all the time,” JB continues. “So why do you look so… uneasy?”

In front of them, Yuzo rolls back inside himself, shoulders rounded like a hedgehog protecting himself. It’s bizarre to witness.

“It’s… I’ve never gotten along with my parents.” Despite his hoarse voice, he sounds clear as day, suddenly. “They’ve always held more interest within my brothers.”

“You have siblings?”

This is the first time Maxine hears about potential in-laws.

“Two brothers. One older, one younger. Engineer, doctor.” He shivers. “I wanted to be a soccer player. It didn’t make them happy.”

She doesn’t like where it’s going. Don’t tell her they…

“So when any of us would get sick, it was first them, and then me. I think they didn’t really want me to be born, but they still raised me.”

Her blood is boiling. Who are those people? How can you be so cruel? How could they’ve given the world such a sweet man…?

JB and Maxine are staring at each other, speechless.

“It’s fine, it’s just… How I was raised,” Yuzo continues to try and justify. “

“Actually, uhm… That’s just…”

JB is struggling to find his wording, fretting again (and who can blame him, that’s quite the unexpected package to drop onto their lap); so Maxine, like the good ol’ pal she is, takes the helm once more.

“Can I be very blunt about that?”

“Yes…?”

She’s sorry, she really is, especially since he looks so troubled, trembling from head to toes and hair risen on his arms; but it must be said. It must be done.

“Fuck your parents and fuck your brothers while I’m at it. They should’ve taken care of you before it got this bad.” She gets JB closer to her. “And neither of us is gonna let you down like they gave up on you.”

“It’s…” Tears prickle at his eyes. “Thank you…”

“It’s no big deal!”

“Just tell us when you’re ill, though. I’d rather not have that scare again!”

“I promise.”

She cups his face again, relief finally coming back to her.

“Now, you should get some rest. JB and I will stay here, don’t worry.”

“Actually, I need to get my sleepover stuff…”

“Well, at least one of us will be here at all times,” Maxine chuckles. “Unless you want us both?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he replies with a bit of a cough stuck in his throat. “It’s already a lot. Thank you very much.”