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noxsoulmate · 1 year

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Art made by: @chaotictarlos 💕

I finally finished my alternate reconciliation fic 🥳🥳 it's now with my beta and I really hope to post it sometime in December.

This fic was supposed to just be a 5k piece of TK taking care of drunken Carlos while they're broken up... and it exploded to a 22k work 😅😂 So I hope you're all willing to read that many words of TK and Carlos finding their way back to each other, with long talks and lots of emotions 🥰

If you aren't on my tagging list yet and would like to be added (either in general or just for this fic), let me know.

As a little teaser, have the beginning of the fic 😊 (under the cut)

PS: I still love you, too

The phone call at one in the morning came out of nowhere but it was a welcome distraction from TK’s fitful slumber. Why he even bothered really trying to sleep was beyond him – he never truly found any rest nowadays.

Still, the time was rather unusual, and most of the time, it didn’t mean anything good. Especially not when it came from an unknown number. Bracing for the worst, TK tried to shake out the cobwebs in his brain and answered on the fifth ring.

“Hello?”

Before he even heard a voice, he could hear music in the background and some chatter, laughter, certainly a small crowd – typical noises of a club or maybe a bar or something. It didn’t make sense to his sleep-addled mind.

“TK?” came a familiar voice, even though he couldn’t place it. “You mind stopping by to pick up your boyfriend?”

TK wondered if he had even fully woken up because none of this made any sense. No sense at all. “Who’s this?” he finally slurred, rubbing his eyes and sitting up fully, putting his feet on the cold hardwood floor. Maybe that would help him see more clearly.

“Oh, sorry,” the voice replied, and for a moment, TK was sure that out of the ruckus going on in the background, he heard an even more familiar voice. “This is Katy from the honky tonk. Carlos is here and he’s pretty sloshed and I can’t let him drive like this. Are you on shift or can you come and pick him up?”

TK was glad he was still sitting because out of everything he had expected – from his mother being in the hospital, to his father being lost somewhere in the hills and calling from an unknown landline, to a simple prank caller – this was certainly not high on his list.

“I– I’m sorry… what?”

“Shit, sorry, can you even hear me? It’s pretty loud here tonight, hang on–”

“No, no, it’s fine,” TK interrupted, taking a deep breath to center himself. “No, it’s okay. I was just… I mean… uhm, Carlos and I–”

Carlos and he what?

Were taking a break? Were over? So please call someone else?

TK still hated himself for what he had done to the man he loved more than his own life – he certainly wouldn’t deny him any help. Even if Carlos most likely wouldn’t ask for it himself. After everything TK had done, it would be a surprise if he wouldn’t strangle him the second he saw him. Though on the other hand, Carlos was far too nice a person for that, so it was more likely that he would just ignore TK.

But none of that mattered when Carlos needed him – and it certainly wasn’t anything he needed to discuss with Katy. Who, obviously, was still in the dark about the two of them. They hadn’t been at the Honky Tonk together in weeks, for obvious reasons, but Katy didn’t seem to find that odd.

Besides, if Carlos was truly sloshed, then maybe he wouldn’t even realize it was TK who helped him. Because if he would, TK was pretty sure he would resist.

Noxy's Tagging List:

@chaotictarlos, @detective-giggles, @sgirl18, @sapphire11, @bubblesandroses8, @firstprince-history-huh, @beautifulhigh, @rangergurlgleek1211, @shadesofdeviant, @otter-love-asl, @tarlos-spain, @ramblingdisaster73, @first-kanaphan, @xtltokio, @lightningboltreader, @tarlossource

#tarlos #tarlos fanfic #911 lone star #noxy writes #alternative reconciliation #teaser #preview

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wangxianficrecs · 1 month

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To Speak Up by Vrishchika

🔒 To Speak Up

by Vrishchika (@vrishchikawrites)

M, 6k, Wangxian

Summary: To be silent is to be complicit. Kay's comments: I've re-read this story numerous times and it always goes so hard. Vrishchika decided to apply what we know of the novel canon Jiang family dynamics in a modern AU and suddenly, it feels much more icky than it already did in canon. Luckily, Wangxian are already established in this story and Wei Wuxian has the Lans and Wens looking out for him as well. Still, it's heart-breaking how willing he is to bear it. Excerpt: Wen Qing is tempted to push but she doesn't, she can't. She can't bear the thought of this kind boy, her little brother's best friend, dealing with his wounds alone. Because that’s what he’ll do if she shows too much worry. Wei Wuxian is ruthlessly practical and doesn’t like to be vulnerable. If he thinks he’s troubling her, he’ll find someone else to care for his wounds. Someone less competent. His back is littered with scars and Wen Qing wonders at the extent of his nerve damage. She prays there's nerve damage because the alternative is chronic pain from the extensive scarring. She aches to drag him to her hospital and get him examined thoroughly. Wei Wuxian is a strong, athletic man and if she hadn’t seen his scarring up-close, she would’ve never believed he had any. "You will eventually need to address these, Wuxian." She tosses the soiled cloth away and carefully applies an antibiotic ointment on the wounds, "I'm prescribing you painkillers and some antibiotics to help avoid infection. You will take them religiously." Wuxian huffs, "I always take medicine, Qing-jie."

pov alternating, pov outsider, modern setting, modern no powers, dysfunctional jiang family, jiang family dynamics, bad parents jiang fengmian and yu ziyuan, not jiang cheng friendly, hurt/comfort, established relationship, families of choice, child abuse, blood and injury, hurt wei wuxian, caring lan wangji, good uncle lan qiren, good sibling lan xichen, child neglect, no jiang cheng & wei wuxian reconciliation

~*~

(Please REBLOG��as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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blutopaz15 · 10 months

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comfortable (or spoons, explicit edition)

rated e, 4.2k

canon s4/s5 ages...don’t like, don’t read!

“Are you, uh…comfortable getting more comfortable?” he asks, finding some words at least as he pulls at his gloves and cuffs, his eyes wandering: to the dirt, to the fire, to the sky…to her. “With me?”

Read on AO3

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #Rayllum week 2023 #Rayllum’s bad vibes rodeo #kinda the reconciliation prompt i guess XD #canon s4/s5 ages #i repeat:#dont like dont read!!!#oh look it's another rayllum first time by yours truly!!#alternate titles include:#pining!rayla finally gets some #rayla knows what she wants and she's gonna get it godammit #bait and stella are sleeping shhhhh #and #no big feelings just sweet silly sandwiches #enjoy friends!!!!!!!

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kazeofthemagun · 4 months

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He did not remember falling asleep.

@cursedfortune

What he did remember was opening his eyes within the dream and seeing a wide field of dust, the ground already soaked with the blood of prior generations. Awaiting further tribute, as though forgetting that it no longer existed.

Nothing remained of Windaria, but his sleeping mind did not know that.

"Svaardzjetrorahm."

Ah, yes. The price of silence had to be paid.

He looked into crimson eyes and suddenly they were both children. Wide cranberry hues gazing from below as the older Windarian gave chase. A self-satisfied smirk on his face, leaping past wooden obstacles to try and snatch him by the ankle. Climbing onto intricate constructions, challenging their bodies until both were strewn on the ground, panting and sharing jokes.

He remembered laughing at them. Kaadhavriija was always vocal, a pride that demanded himself to be the center of attention. He picked up gossip like a sponge, particularly the kind about pretty women. He remembered acting holier-than-thou when Vriija was caught snooping on Tuenh-bani Majuru and they were both beat so hard by Ohnzhejhar-vahree they couldn't sit straight for three days.

It was a life. It was far from perfect, but it was theirs.

To think one would die at the hand of another.

"Vriija." His mouth opened, but no sound came. Instead, the memory replayed as it always did.

The dance in the dust, accompanied by the gazes of cold, hard wooden sculptures. Featureless masks deifying silence. An ode to their lives, their memories together, the drum-beat of their pulse quickening as blades met and shed sparks. As a vicious shotel of bluish metal glanced off the shell of Magun, allowing for Geryon's fang to slip inbetween Vriija's -

But - no. He tasted blood. It reeked of smoke.

"Kaadh -"

His voice erupted in a cough, dagger slipping from his grasp. He felt something rip and tear inside, stealing breath. The bottom of his mouth filled with heat that spilled from the corner of his lip. Dark droplets upon the dirt.

Wasn't it poetic? How their blades reflected their eyes. Crimson in blue and blue in crimson. Hand in hand, like the time they ran and chased one another down the training grounds of Lir Hassan.

Like the time they ran and chased one another through life. One step ahead - one step behind. A dance of brothers. Jealousy, but also pride. Not only in themselves, but in one another. And then the chase fell away. He became a summoner, then alihkar. Vriija stayed behind, the watchful raptor of the band. He could call him and he would come, a fleet-footed friend he could forever rely on. Despite their newfound shift of power, there was no resentment.

Until the day White Cloud took down his hood, of course. Wrong place, wrong time.

Just like Vriija.

...And him.

...And Chaos.

It was all a neverending string of misfortune layered ontop of misfortune, but he was paying for it, no? Paying for it with every day he lived and every day he died.

"I'm sorry, fenlai."

If only he could tell him. If only there was a way to fix this. Instead, his brother was prowling closer, red eyes trained on blue. No, there was only resentment now. Only hatred. He should have known, for he offered wrath for wrath that day.

Bare apologies were hollow. It was his suffering that gave them meaning.

He felt a gloved hand caress the side of his face, brushing aside sweat-stickied hairs. A whisper, almost too sweet. Like gently rubbing in salt.

"You are no friend of mine."

A wild, stabbing pain. He looked down to see his own dagger buried in his gut. Blood rushed freely past a trembling chin, painting streams of black down tan skin. He fervently mouthed an apology. Eyes wide, eyes like prey.

And then he felt Vriija's grip shift before the wolf's own claw ripped him open.

"AH -"

He awoke with a start, nearly kicking himself off the sofa in his panic. He must have swung the Magun in confusion, almost hard enough to strain his muscles. Breath returned to both his lungs, a series of coughs and a strangled whine as his hand clawed at the fabric over his middle, as though attempting to stop his innards from falling in a heap at his feet.

Breathe, Svaardzjetrorahm. There is no wound. There is no danger. There is no enemy.

"Haaa.... haaa...." both his lungs were in order, at least. A droplet of sweat traveled down his temple, and the Wind rose to his feet to head outside.

He was kneeling in front of the circle of painted stone that he had once created in the Witch's garden. The crisp night air cooled his skin and cleared his mind, helping suppress the jitters that sought to claim reign over his body. A part of him wondered whether the occasional tremor was still a vestige of the nightmare, or if maybe the low temperature was playing its part. Either way, it mattered very little.

Eyes like the ocean stared forlornly into the middle of the grave - the window to death. The idrhisen lay pristine and undisturbed, tended to regularly by the both of them. Truly, he could not even begin to thank the Witch for maintaining a monument not of her own people whenever he was gone. It was a testament to her trust in him, to trust in the significance of this symbolic grave he built. She never knew any of his blood, yet treated them like kin nonetheless.

As they all were. Connected not in blood, but in Soil. Prayers of the earth on the wind, answered now on another world under a different star. So that they may finally have a home away from home. Aviro-tou.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, finding his voice broken. A tear finding its way past the frigid dam in his eye traced a thin rivulet past his ekkti, only to fall upon stone.

If only there was a way to make it right. Their sins lived with them, but never died. He wondered whether it was holding his brother from rebirth. Do you miss them, Vriija..? The Wind's thoughts wandered. The old times, before any of this happened. Before the Gun met the Sword and the prophecy was set in motion. Before the hurt. Before betrayal.

Before bloodshed. Why did things always have to end in blood?

Why not, a stray thought answered. This is what you are. Accursed.

Kaze lowered himself, a deep bow of his back until his forehead kissed stone. Crimson hair spilling freely and hiding his face from sight. He remained like this for some time, meditating silently.

After all, the most he could do was remember.

There truly was not too much more left.

#cursedfortune #[[thread #blood tw #gore tw #[[Regret and Reconciliation #Windarian translations: kaadhavrija is Rushing Stream. Tuenh-bani Majuru is Singing with the Breeze and Ohnzhejhar-vahree is Silver Storm #with an attached honorific #fenlai is friend #idrhisen aviro-tou means death window away from home. alternatively called an idrhikal (death stone) as well

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hellcheerficdatabase · 11 months

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if the world was ending (you’d come over, right?)

Author: @cunnninghams

Rating/Warning: Mature

Chapter Count: 1/1

Description:

He could go outside and try to be a good civilian.

He could go check for survivors downtown, see what he could do to lend a hand, drive straight to the power plant to check on Wayne, go make sure Chrissy made it out unscathed.

But he doesn’t. He sits, and he waits.

After all, the shire is burning.

And he is no hero.

or — what if chrissy and eddie were never victims of the upside down, but the gate still rips through hawkins in 1986?

Tags: Alternate universe- canon divergence, Chrissy and Eddie are not involved with vecna, gate opening, angst, exs to lovers, reconciliation, hurt/comfort, smut, Eddie POV, one-shot, status: completed

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lanjiangs · 2 years

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Had an idea after reading @cerusee's post on ways wwx could find out about jiang cheng’s sacrifice, specifically their first idea about lwj and jc being trapped in a cursed cave that plays out emotionally charged memories!

Jin Ling conspires to bring his uncles together and get them to actually talk to each other - things do not go to plan.

For one, Wei Wuxian brings Lan Wangji along with him, which means he has even less reason to go near Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Cheng is going to spend the whole time glaring at Lan Wangji and not looking at Wei Wuxian!

And secondly, they get themselves separated halfway through a cave, with Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian on one side of a very solid looking wall, and Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji on the other. Which means that even if JC and WWX were starting to look slightly less tense around each other, it doesn’t matter now because if Jiang Cheng doesn’t murder Wei Wuxian’s beloved husband, Wei Wuxian’s beloved husband is going to murder him!

Whilst Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian are desperately scrambling to come up with a way through this magically appearing wall, Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji are standing on the opposite side taking very deep breaths and exploring their options with as few words as possible.

It turns out the cave is enchanted and feeds off strong emotions, in order to reap the most distress it can, it taps into its victims brains and plays out some of their most emotional memories.

For Lan Wangji, it plays out his memory of fighting off his own clan members in order to save A-Yuan, followed by his brutal punishment.

Jiang Cheng has several emotions about seeing this, most of them different flavors of self hatred - the great Hanguang Jun proving yet again how worthy he is of Wei Wuxian’s love, how he knew all along that he was worth protecting.

Shortly after that, it is Jiang Cheng’s turn, and he and Lan Wangji find themselves standing in a rainy market in Yilling, watching a much younger Jiang Cheng give himself up to the Wen in order to save an oblivious Wei Wuxian, to where he is dragged off by them to be tortured and have his core ripped out.

As soon as it’s over Jiang Cheng is up in Lan Wangji’s face telling him in no uncertain terms that he will kill him if he ever breathes a word of it to Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji shoves him off and after a long while, Jiang Cheng pulls himself together and they go back to figuring out how to get out.

Lan Wangji would think nothing of what he had seen, except a sadness at how pale and drawn Wei Ying had looked in the vision, but for the fact that he knew it would make a huge difference for Wei Ying.

In the midst of this, Lan Wangji says “Wei Ying would want to know”. Jiang Cheng stops what he’s doing but does not turn around “What do you care?”

“About you, I do not. But Wei Ying…”

“You heard him yourself, he said to leave it in the past. He- I don’t owe him anything anymore. Let him believe what he’s always believed”

After that they work in silence, eventually working their way to freedom, and back to Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian.

After sealing up the cave to prevent anyone else falling into it’s trap, the two pairs go their separate ways with very short, tense goodbyes.

Lan Wangji does not mention what he saw for a long time, but he thinks about it often. It is not until one night, when Wei Wuxian, a little drunk (but safe and warm in their home), mentions his once-brother running back to Lotus Pier to retrieve his parents bodies, that Lan Wangji feels guilty enough that he nudges Wei Ying to sit up from where he’s sprawled over his lap.

“ Wei Ying..”

“Huh, Lan Zhan I was comf- what’s wrong?”

“Jiang Wanyin did not.”

“Didn’t what? What’s with that face, Lan Zhan, you’re making me nervous, ha.”

Lan Wangji takes a deep breath and takes Wei Ying’s hand to give himself a moment to think through his words, before looking back into his wide, worried eyes, “In the cave, it showed us his memories. Jiang Wanyin did not go back for his parents.”

He takes a moment to swallow down his anger towards the man in question, “He got captured to distract them from you.”

Wei Ying stares at him for a moment before smiling sadly and shaking his head.

Lan Wangji interrupts him as he opens his mouth to speak, “He did it deliberately, Wei Ying. I saw it.”

It takes some time for it to sink in, and when it does Wei Ying is so distressed that Lan Wangji almost regrets telling him. But after some time of Lan Wangji holding him and reminding him that Wei Ying does not owe Jiang Wanyin anything, that he did not even want him to know, and a few aborted attempts to leave and sprint his way to Yunmeng, he calms down enough for Lan Wangji to get him into bed, with the plan to leave for Yunmeng in the morning.

Lan Wangji says goodbye to Wei Ying in a town on the outskirts of Yunmeng, after flying him there, recognising that he needs to see his brother alone, but wanting to be close enough for his own peace of mind.

Wei Wuxian walks up to the gates of Lotus Pier with no plan and an emotional mixture of anger, sadness, regret and love fuelling his steps.

(Jin Ling’s plan did work…eventually!)

#alternative is where the cave also saps their spiritual power and the conversation is much less friendly #lwj and jc end up in a fist fight and its very fraught and a little sexy and they're big mad about it #doesnt change the ending tho #i have no idea how the converdation between jc and wwx will go but it brings them closer to reconcilliation!!!#yunmeng brothers #yunmeng brothers reconciliation #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #wei wuxian #if i as jiang cheng has wei ying tenderly wipe a tear away i would DIE on the spot it is so sweet #lan wangji #lan zhan #jin ling #breifly #mzdz #the untamed #cql #mine #post-canon

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silvermillenniumqueenneptune · 9 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Picard Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Agnes Jurati/Cristóbal Rios, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Raffi Musiker/Seven of Nine, Raffi Musiker & Cristóbal Rios Characters: Agnes Jurati, Cristóbal Rios, Raffi Musiker, Seven of Nine, Jean-Luc Picard Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Reconciliation, Song: Heaven Knows (Five For Fighting), Agnes Jurati is Not The Borg Queen, True Love's Kiss, Episode: s02e06 Two of One (Star Trek: Picard), One Shot, Making Up, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied/Referenced Sex

Series: Part 5 of Heaven Knows Summary:

What could bring Agnes Jurati back to her broody ex? Calling off the war that the Borg Queen has caused in her mind. A reconciliation AU showing what might have happened if kissing Cris in S2E6 had been totally Agnes' choice.

This is my 150th fic on this account, and my 31st for the fandom! Heads up: The rating on this one has changed for my own piece of mind to Mature rather than Teen and Up!

#150th fic!#star trek picard #fix it fanfiction #alternate universe #reconciliation #make up sex #implied/referenced sex #cristobal rios x agnes jurati #agnebal

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journey-to-the-attic · 2 years

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now that i think about it though it seems fitting that jtta ik and ddvd zhao get that sort of response from the demons around them

jtta ik didn't get to grow up in a loving family and was emotionally neglected by her father (albeit not maliciously, but still she's obviously damaged by it), and doesn't seem to have a real familial support system to fall back on in the human world, so the demons feel a natural urge to want to take her under their wings and look after her, because thats what she's been missing

and ddvd zhao was abandoned by his first love, which must have hurt, especially since the way ik tells it back in chapter 18 makes it seem like he still loved her but let her go because he thought it was the right thing to do... so the demons' instinctive response is to want to give him the love he lost and help him recover from his badly ended romance with a better one (that or they just find the shabby dad look hot, which, understandable-)

idk i just think its neat :)

anon you have given me the Feels and i am not okay with it (/j)

for real though, this is lovely :,)

#answering asks #anon asks #the ddvd au started out as a joke and now i'm like genuinely invested in it #but not in the same way as jtta.... i don't know how to explain it #[slamming hand on desk and pointing at whiteboard] it's about the PARALLELS #it's about the SIMILARITIES in HANDLING of EMOTIONAL TRAUMA despite being from ALTERNATE REALITIES #it's about the SUBTLE RESPONSES that children will LEARN from their PARENTS whether it's HEALTHY OR NOT #it's about the EMOTIONAL RECONCILIATION WITH YOUR PAST #it's about RECOVERY and FOUND FAMILY and LOVE #IT'S ABOUT THE HUMANITY #GRAHRHGHGAHRGARH #dad in the devildom

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tweedsmuir-library · 6 months

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Peace

November is Peace month at your School Library. Join us in person and online to find out more, as we celebrate Peace and Peacemakers.

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#alternatives to violence #alternatives to war #anti-war #civil disobedience #non-violence #peace #reconciliation

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ben-drabbles · 6 months

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To Regret It All

This colony ship was cleanest start for a new civilization out of any of Earth's attempts. Most included seeds for new societies in their designs; for example, the Hero's Journey kept many stories of old Earth alive, though the deterioration of their physical records means that most are now kept as oral histories or long-distorted fables. Some took the risk of cryogenically freezing their passengers and crew, though that rarely, if ever, worked. After all, everyone dies eventually.

To Regret It All, however, kept a strict divide between their passengers and crew, and replicated Earth's environments as closely as space allowed with rotational gravity and a massive tube-shaped biosphere. The second generation born on their long voyage did not even know they were on a spaceship, let alone why. The crew, once they ensured the ship would reach their destination - a planet as Earth-like as they could find - were frozen for any emergencies the ship's advanced autopilot could not handle. When To Regret It All reached its final destination, the crew was euthanized, and their whole section of the ship - including the autopilot AI - was ejected and destroyed. In this way, the civilization born of the Regret was something as wholly new as possible.

Of course, no one can escape the influence of their parents, despite the efforts of the Regret. Some believe that the passengers of the Regret are actually the closest people to those of old Earth, as they did not start over from a template or goal. They just kept living, albeit in a much more confined - and, well, cylindrical - space than a true planetoid. Others believe that the first generation of colonists instilled a certain value in originality and fresh ideas, rather than a true blank slate. Others still suspect that a certain ease of living permeated their early years, due to the lack of real danger built into To Regret It All, and the people's inability to truly explore their surroundings. Who is to say? We can only hope that the passengers and crew of the Regret rest easy, knowing that they did the best they could.

Though, after the autopilot and crew were killed, the colonists certainly had a very eventful landing.

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noxsoulmate · 1 year

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💞 Noxy’s Alternate Reconciliation Fic 💞

Ship: Tarlos | Fandom: 911 Lone Star | Author: noxsoulmate | Read on ao3

Chapter: 1/6 | Word Count: 5752 | Rating: Explicit | Warnings/Tags: alternate universe - canon divergence, drunk Carlos. Concerned TK, TK takes care of Carlos, drunken confessions, post-break up, getting back together, mutual pining, boys using their words, idiots in love, explicit sexual content, makeup sex, domestic fluff, telling their friends, healthy communication | Art made by: @chaotictarlos 💕

Summary:

“Carlos, who are you talking about?” “My boyfriend. He left,” Carlos slurred. TK’s heart was racing now, a silent laugh escaping him. But he needed to be absolutely sure who the sleeping, drunken Carlos was talking about. “What’s his name?” “Tyler Kennedy. But he’ll kill you if you call him that.”

~*~

An alternative rendition of how TK and Carlos may have gotten back together.

This fic is finished, all chapters will be posted before the year ends!

💞 Read Chapter 1 on ao3 💞

Sneak peek under the cut:

Even though it was one in the morning, the unexpected phone call was a welcome distraction from TK’s fitful slumber. Why he even bothered really trying to sleep was beyond him – he never truly found any rest nowadays.

Still, it was rather unusual for him to get a call this late, and most of the time, it didn’t mean anything good. Especially not when it came from an unknown number. Bracing for the worst, TK tried to shake out the cobwebs in his brain and answered on the fifth ring.

“Hello?”

Before he even heard a voice, he could hear music in the background and some chatter, laughter, certainly a small crowd – typical noises of a bar or some fairly loud spot. It didn’t make sense to his sleep-addled mind.

“TK?” came a familiar voice, even though he couldn’t place it. “You mind stopping by to pick up your boyfriend?”

TK wondered if he had even fully woken up because none of this made any sense to his overtired brain. “Who’s this?” he finally slurred, rubbing his eyes and sitting up fully, putting his feet on the cold hardwood floor. Maybe that would help him see more clearly.

“Oh, sorry,” the voice replied, and for a moment, TK was sure that out of the ruckus going on in the background, he heard an even more familiar voice. “This is Katy from the Honky Tonk. Carlos is here and he’s pretty sloshed and I can’t let him drive like this. Are you on shift or can you come take him home?”

TK was glad he was still sitting because out of everything he had expected – from his mother being in the hospital, to his father being lost somewhere in the hills and calling from an unknown landline, to a simple prank caller – this certainly didn’t even rank on his list.

“I– I’m sorry… what?”

“Shit, can you even hear me? It’s pretty loud here tonight, hang on–”

“No, no, it’s fine,” TK interrupted, taking a deep breath to center himself. “No, it’s okay. I was just… I mean… uhm, Carlos and I–”

Carlos and he what?

Were taking a break? Were over, so please call someone else?

TK still hated himself for what he had done to the man he loved more than his own life – he certainly wouldn’t deny him any help. Even if Carlos most likely wouldn’t have asked him for it on his own. After everything TK had done, it would be a surprise if he wouldn’t strangle him as soon as he laid eyes on him. On the other hand, though, Carlos was far too nice a person for that, so it was more likely that he would just ignore TK.

But none of that mattered when Carlos needed him – and it certainly wasn’t anything Katy needed to be privy to. She was obviously still in the dark about the two of them. They hadn’t been at the Honky Tonk together in weeks, for obvious reasons, but Katy didn’t seem to find that odd.

Besides, if Carlos was truly sloshed, then maybe he wouldn’t even realize it was TK who helped him. Because if he did notice, TK was pretty sure he would resist.

💞 Continue on ao3 💞

Bingo squares used:

@911bingo B2: “I love you so much I just want to see you happy.”

@anyfandomfluffbingo Square 9: Old Flame

@mfbingo G2: Happy Endings

Noxy's Tagging List: @chaotictarlos, @detective-giggles, @sgirl18, @sapphire11, @bubblesandroses8, @firstprince-history-huh, @beautifulhigh, @rangergurlgleek1211, @shadesofdeviant, @otter-love-asl, @tarlos-spain, @ramblingdisaster73, @first-kanaphan, @xtltokio, @lightningboltreader, @buckybarnesalways, @tarlossource

#tarlos #tarlos fanfic #911 lone star #noxy writes #alternative reconciliation #noxy's alternative reconciliation fic #911 bingo #any fandom fluff bingo #mfbingo

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wangxianficrecs · 1 month

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The Winner Takes It All by YilingSani

The Winner Takes It All

by YilingSani (@yiling-sani)

M, 46k, Wangxian

Summary: "Wei Ying doesn't know why he ended up on this exact island. All he knows is that he's scared, alone and hungry. And with a child." ----- 18 years later Wei Yuan has grown into a proper young man, helping his Baba to run the hotel on the island. On the week of his wedding, Wei Yuan comes across Wei Ying's diary and decides to invite the man mentioned in it to the island, unaware of the consequences it will bring. Kay's comments: I never knew that I needed a MDZS Mamma Mia AU until I started reading this story. I have never even watched Mamma Mia (I know, shame on me, what kind of gay even am I), but I was so hooked on this story. So hooked in fact, that I read it first as it was published as a thread fic and then once again once it updated on AO3 and I could still hardly wait for the updates. The drama, the heartbreak, the angst, the found family! All of it was such a delight. The angst hit especially hard in this story and for the longest time, as a reader, you're wondering whether you even want Wei Ying and Lan Zhan to get back together again, but it all works out in the end without being a magical fix-it. Highly recommended. Excerpt: Granny Wen extends a hand to brush away a strand from the young man's face, but the moment her fingers touch his forehead, she feels the heat coming from the boy. He's running a fever. It would be inhuman to leave the boy to fate, so Granny Wen nudges him awake. Once the silver eyes open, they immediately fill with fear, and the boy draws deep into the corner, looking like a frightened deer. "It's alright," the woman speaks softly. "I won't hurt you." The silver eyes are puffy and red-rimmed - it's clear that the young man has cried himself to sleep. "It's alright," Granny Wen repeats. "You’re safe. I’m Granny Wen. What's your name?" "W-Wei Ying," the boy's voice is hoarse, his throat dry as a dessert. "Are you from the mainland?" she asks the next question, and the boy nods. She notices how the boy's hands are placed protectively on his belly and she frowns. "How old are you?" "Seventeen." Seventeen.

pov alternating, modern setting, modern no powers, mpreg, single parent wei wuxian, inspired by mamma mia!, one night stands, first time, unplanned pregnancy, traumatic childbirth, post-traumatic stress disorder, ptsd, illnesses, chronic illness, teen pregnancy, panic attacks, angst with a happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, families of choice, no jiang cheng & wei wuxian reconciliation, background character death

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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voluptuarian · 1 year

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I'm in the middle of reading about the change from traditional (combined sharia and kanun law) courts in the Ottoman Empire, to the modernized nizami system that overruled it in the mid-to-late 1800s; rather than phasing out şer'i courts, this change led to people being judged by both courts at once.

But it highlighted to me why modern justice systems don't work. Take a look at this graphic

On the left is the şer'i court, on the left the nizami court. All the şer'i courts actions are based on a some kind of social repair-- reconciliation, compensation, or satisfactory punishment. The nizami court however is only interested in one thing: sending you to jail so they can use you as free labor.

The şer'i court is based in a community, and needs resolutions that work for the community, resolving conflict or making recompense for offense (even if the punishment was death, there would at least be the sense that justice had been done for the crime).

The nizami court doesn't care about the community-- they care about controlling the population and benefiting the state. These are multiple examples of cases where according to şer'i courts, the accused and injured parties would have (at least officially) come to an accord and the issue ceased to be a concern-- both would be able to go back to their lives and continue as part of the community. The modernized law is not concerned with making peace, but with removing the accused from the community to be exploited for the state.

Modern prison systems have the same concerns-- they don't solve problems, they don't resolve the issue between accused and injured, they don't provide compensation for the injured, they just jail people. The benefit of this is supposed to be that the dangerous people are put away where they can't hurt people-- we all know that's not the case-- or that criminals can be reintroduced to society as peaceful people-- we know that the opposite is actually happening there. In other words, this system gives no benefit to the people who suffered as a result of the crime or the community that's been affected, and doesn't re-educate the criminal, or even protect the public from them. The only benefit to this system is for the state-- in fact, continuing conflict, injury, and violence in the population is better for the state, since it will increase the numbers of people in jail, and thus, the number of workers to exploit as labor.

#i'm sure şer'i systems had their problems #BUT the concern of that court is resolution and reconciliation-- getting problems resolved and life back to normal #while the nizami-- and other modern systems make it easy for the court beneficial for the state and do fuck all else #like I'm well aware of the problems of the US court/prison system but I'd never see an example of what an alternative system would focus on #the college saga continues #ottoman history

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youneedsomeprompts · 5 months

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~ OUCH, THE ANGST ~ ANGSTY PROMPTS

requested by: anonymous request: Can you give prompts for angst? I’m making a fic that’s gonna have a bad ending and an alternate ending

Feel free to use and reblog!

keeping things from the other to spare their feelings

walking away because they're bad at confrontation

refusing reconciliation because they're still deeply hurt

lashing out even though they know they will regret it

lying to the other about their feelings

lying to themselves about their feelings

listening to someone's bad advice

refusing to give the other a second chance

being the other's 'right person, wrong time'

making a decision against the other because they're seeing bad signs everywhere

"I need you." "Do you really need me or do you need the image of me you created in your head?"

"It's very cowardly to run away like this!" "Maybe. But maybe it's even more cowardly to pretend that everything is fine the way it is."

"Do I really mean nothing to you?!" "That's not fair. You know that's not the reason why."

"Why do I have to decide? It's virtually impossible!"

*choking on tears* "Why would you say something like this?"

"I vouched for you! How could you?!"

"Why did you never say anything? Why did I have to find out from a third person?"

"You're not serious? You're not being FUCKING SERIOUS?!"

"I did everything, and still, it wasn't enough."

"I know we failed, but I would still do it all again."

#angst prompts #whump prompts #writing prompts #prompt list #fanfic prompts #otp prompts #otp #prompts #writing inspiration #writing ideas #writeblr #writers on tumblr #setting prompts #dialogue prompts #20 prompts

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littlesmartart · 9 months

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based on @lilnasxvevo 's post here because I COULD NOT RESIST. where is the subgenre of 3zun reconciliation fics where xiyao have to fuck nmj back to health???? where is it???? wen qing is here because reasons. don't question it.

doubly hilarious if this is an AU where jgy has already begun to try and use Music Makes You Lose Control - nmj has to go to his sworn brothers and explain that his doctor thinks bottoming might fix him better than music, and whilst lxc is smiling politely and doing worldslongestyeahboi.mp4 in his head, jgy is sitting there frantically trying to figure out how he could poison nmj with his dick instead.

(he doesn't kill nmj because jgy is so fucking touch-starved that after one midweek sex break with da-ge and er-ge he's full of so much serotonin and so de-stressed that he goes back to Koi Tower like :) :) not giving this up :) :) patricide time :) :) ......also the alternative is to try and explain to his dad why he's not playing Evil Music anymore and what he's doing instead, and there is a non-zero chance his dad will respond to this by trying to make him a fulltime sex assassin. so yeah! :) PROMOTION TIME ZIXUAN-GE :) )

and obviously, when the new "treatment" clearly begins to work...

#nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wen qing #3zun #the untamed

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burningvelvet · 4 months

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being a romantic era poet: a quick how-to guide

walk around in nature contemplating Things. start hiking, swimming, sailing, rowing, shooting, riding, etc. for inspiration

be obsessed with the french revolution and related enlightenment-era figures like rousseau, voltaire, mary wollstonecraft, and madame de staël. be more disappointed by napoleon bonaparte than you are by your own father.

speaking of fathers, your parents and most of your other relatives are all either dying or dead or emotionally abusive. if you have any siblings (full, half, step, or adopted) who DIDN'T die tragically already, then you may choose to be close to them. you also may end up being much TOO close to them. various circumstances may also ban you from seeing them.

be at least slightly touched by madness and/or some other severe illness(es) including but not limited to: consumption, horrors, syphilis, deformities, lameness, terrors, piles, boils, pox, allergies, coughing, sleep abnormalities, gonorrhea, etc. — for which you must take frequent bed rest and copious amounts of Laudanum (opium derivation)

consider foregoing meat and adopting a vegetable diet instead to purify the spirits. you may also abstain from alcohol for the same reasons. alternatively, you may attempt the veggie diet, end up rejecting it, and becoming a rampant alcoholic instead. in romanticism there is no healthy medium between abstinence and excess.

reject, or at least heavily criticize, christianity. refuse to get married in a church and consider becoming a fervent champion of atheism. alternatively, you may embrace catholicism, but only on an aesthetic basis. eastern religions and minority religions are also acceptable, only because they piss off the christians.

if you’re not a self-hating member of the aristocracy and instead have to work for a living, do something that allows you to benefit society, be creative, and/or contemplate life. viable options include, but are not limited to: apothecarist, doctor, teacher, preacher, lawyer, farmer, printmaker, publisher, editor. there is also the possibility of earning a few coins from your art. if you were cursed to be born a She, no worries. we believe in equality. you may choose from these occupations: wife, nanny, housekeeper, spinster, amanuensis (copy writer for a man), lady’s companion, divorced wife, singer/actress/escort, widow, regular escort, tutor, or housewife.

speaking of sexist institutions, try rejecting marriage entirely. Declare your eternal devotion to your lover by having sex with them on your mother’s grave instead.

if you do get married — elope, and only let it be for necessary financial reasons, or to try and save a teenage girl from her controlling family, or out of true love with someone you view as your intellectual equal, or because your life is so racked with scandals and debt that you can only clear your name by matrimony to a wealthy religious woman as your last resort before fleeing the country.

After marriage, quickly assert your belief in the powers of free love and bisexuality by taking extramarital lovers and suggesting your spouse follow suit. If they cannot keep up with your intellectual escapades then consider leaving them. Later on, propose a platonic friendship with them following the separation, or beg them for reconciliation.

If your marriage is happy, try moving in with another bohemian couple to shake things up. Alternatively, you may die before the wedding for dramatic effect.

If you beget children (whether in or out of marriage, makes no matter), do society a favor by choosing to raise them with your beliefs. Consider adopting orphan children, or even non-orphan children. If their parents are poor enough they probably won’t mind. Try kidnapp— I mean adopting — children off the side of the road if you can.

DIE but do it creatively. ideally young. ideas: prophecy your own death, lead an army into war and then die right before your first battle and on your deathbed curse everyone and demand to see a witch, write a will leaving money to your mistresses or some random young man you have an unrequited romantic obsession with, carry a copy of your dead friend's poetry and read it right before you drown so that your washed up corpse can only be identified by his book in your pocket, die while staring at your lover's shriveled up heart that you keep wrapped up in a copy of his own poetry and then be buried with it, die of the poet's illness (consumption) while your artist friend draws you and then be buried with your lover's writing, get mysteriously poisoned (by yourself) after a series of scandals and accidents and then have your family announce that you were killed by god, die from romanticizing poverty or receiving bad reviews from literary critics, die from walking or horseback riding in the cold and the rain while poeticizing, etc.

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