Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💗
Hiiiii, friend, I hope you've been doing well!
I miss stringing words together, wah. But once upon a time I wrote things and maybe one day I will again! And looking at my AO3 account I do remember, uh, some of these things. Some of them I have no recollection of this place. But here are five that I have fond feelings about:
Good Bones, the Ghost Will Graham fic. @pragnificent gave me such a good fic to remix that it would have been hard for this one to go wrong, and I'm still very fond of it.
Proof-Sheet Love is Hard to Find, the wangxian fic about spirits and photography. I love a modern-cultivation fic and feel really cozy and loving about the little world I built here; I'm not sure how much of it ended up on the page but it's a vivid world in my head and I think some of it made it through.
trouble when you walked in, the modern Yi City trio fic. I should have written so much more of them, they are SO much fun to play with.
take a bottle, shake it up, because I miss VegasPete a lot and there are some lines in that one I'm really happy with.
polish up, ride out, because Han Juwon is SO much fun to write, his is a particular flavor of brainweasel I hadn't had a chance to play with before. There are a couple of things about this I'd do differently now but I still like the narrative voice a lot.
Thank you, this was a fun time! brb off to drop this in some other inboxes.
@leupagus requested, and her wish is my command. At least on a Monday morning when I'd rather be thinking about fic than my weekend email backlog. So:
List five of your least-popular fics, as well as when/why you wrote them.
the green place, Word of Honor modern AU, YeXie, 2021
This was a little string of YeXie Week ficlets based on word prompts. Friend Ritualist* and I had been batting around some ideas for a Plant Witch Xie'er fic in the DMs and I thought I'd use YeXie week to play around with the character voices/world a little and see how I liked writing those two. I had a lovely time writing it, but semi-connected short ficlets where the rimming is (just barely) off-screen are a hard sell. Also I left it marked incomplete for a long time thinking I might go back and finish out the week's prompts, so I'm sure it got passed over by the very wise people who don't read WIPs. No regrets, I like knowing Plant Witch Xier'er is out there even if he'll probably never really get written.
*babe, I'm blanking out and can only think of your pro author tumblr name and not your fandom one, if you're seeing this and wanna be linked, drop your fandom url in the comments and I'll link you up
The Desert Dreams of a River, Darkangel Trilogy, Aeriel/Irrylath, Erin/OFC, 2019.
Yuletide fic! With the hit count you expect for a Yuletide genfic based on one of your formative pieces of circa-1982 fiction about a girl trying to reform a vampire while they live on the terraformed moon. Written in a frantic haze just short of deadline, if I recall, as I'd started a different angle on it that didn't quite work. I'm not saying this story was just an excuse to get Erin a wife, but it was sort of that, since the prompt didn't really allow for Erin to wife Aeriel. (But she SHOULD HAVE. Let Aeriel Have A Husband And A Wife.) I loved these books so much. Unfortunately something must be really fucked with the licensing because only the third of the trilogy was available as an ebook at the time and that doesn't seem to have changed? Pick up a hard copy of the first book if you ever see one, though.
every word is nonsense, Only Friends, Ray&Sand, 2023
Another little tidbit of a fic as an exercise in character voice again and also how much I liked how much the show likes their smoking scenes. Look. I'm a person of a certain age who smoked like a chimney as a teenager and into my early twenties, and I can't help the programming that got into my bones about the inherent eroticism of sharing a cigarette. (lolsob, high five to my fellow Thai BL nerds, how are we all doing this week with the one-two- punch of the DFF shotgunning scene and the new 4 minutes teaser? it's fine, i'm fine.) I wrote this thinking that next I would write some RaySand smut and then didn't because the whirl of Thai BL fandom pulled me on to something else, but at some point I want to rewatch this show and may still write it then because it fed my FirstKhao shipper heart so well.
dizzy in your wake, Nirvana in Fire, Changsu/Jingyan, 2020?
I'm not the one who said "what if Mei Changsu were a were-octopus," that was a series of amazing twitter threads by @astronicht. But people just KEPT sending it to me because I am known to think octopus content is very cool and also to be a Mei Changsu Girlie, and eventually a couple of friends shook me until 600 words of ridiculousness came out. What surprises me is not that this one has few kudos, but that it has >10 kudos at all. I would say this is the most niche and silly thing I've written except I've also written MDZS/Jupiter Ascending fusion fic, so let's not pretend I have any dignity left. Written in 2020 but it didn't get posted until later because I don't usually post things this short. At some point I was in one of those "it's an ARCHIVE, we should put ALL THE THINGS THERE" moods and slapped a few NiF ficlets written for the group chat up there.
A Second Dose, Hannibal, Bev/Freddie, 2016
This was the thing where you write an odd little rarepair and it's so much fun you come back and do a sequel you hadn't meant to write. I'd written Bev/Freddie before and then when a Hannibal rarepair fest came around I was like, hey, what if I did that again. Possibly I just wanted to revisit the cat named after Rosalind Franklin that I'd made up for Bev.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
oh, babies, I have ABSOLUTELY forgotten how we do fic promo in the mumblety years since I was last simultaneously active on Tumblr and posting fic. bear with me, okay?
here, i did a thing.
mind the tags from both directions, as this is probably either more fucked up or less fucked up than you want it to be, unless you've been following me around since Hannibal fandom for my particular bullshit brand of "what if these extremely fucked people who are absolutely terrible for each other were...very soft about how fucked up they are?"
anyway, *jazz hands*, I am very much back on that bullshit.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: KinnPorsche: The Series (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham/Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun
Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Safehouse shenanigans, Dubious Consent, Drugged Sex, But like the softest possible dubcon, if you’re here for a dead dove you’ll be disappointed, the dove is alive and well and enjoying its Stockholm Syndrome
Summary:
Pete must be getting complacent, because it takes him a few weeks to find the drugs.
He usually goes straight to the first aid kit in their room, not the bathroom cabinet. Maybe Vegas counted on that. Or maybe it’s just what’s normal, for Theerapanyakuls. Probably they all keep the incapacitating sedatives in the bathroom drawer next to the gauze and the antiseptic and the leftover painkillers from the hospital.
Maybe Pete’s not the best judge of normal. A normal person might ask what exactly are you going to tell Macau if he goes looking for an aspirin?
Pete? He swallows hard, and reminds himself how fucked up Porsche had been when they found him, and tries not to remember how giggly and handsy he’d been later on. Getting out of the car, clinging around Kinn’s neck, hands everywhere while Pete averted his eyes politely. It had been a completely fucked thing to do. Porsche didn’t want it, not really.
Porsche probably doesn’t want a lot of the things that Pete’s brain and gut and dick are extremely interested in.
or: In which there is weird domesticity, and Vegas is surprisingly cheerful about getting a taste of his own medicine
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic
Series: Part 4 of MDZS Kinkmeme Fills
Summary:
After the third time Lan Wangji winds up as the assigned photographer for one of Wei Wuxian’s campus newspaper articles, he stops bringing the digital camera and brings Bichen instead. He’s figured out that no matter how ordinary and non-cultivation-related the assignment should be - the lunar gala, a robotics competition, the dining hall workers on strike - if Wei Wuxian is there, some sort of chaos will break out.
He likes the way spiritual energy looks better on film rather than digital. He especially likes the way Bichen captures it. He can almost imagine he feels her humming in his hands when he raises her and begins to shoot.
*****
Did a quick prompt fill for the weekend! Now that I’ve written modern cultivation AU I don’t know if I can go back to writing canon fic, this was SO FUN.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Mentions of Past Lan Zhan/Mo Xuanyu
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, pure unfiltered nonsense, Fluff
Summary:
The Brunch Twink Goth had been wearing so much makeup.
“It was so early for a full smoky eye, what the fuck,” was how Wei Wuxian had put it later.
The Brunch Goth had made a thinly veiled dick joke - and Lan Wangji didn’t seem to be mad about it?
Wei Wuxian’s texts had started to fly as fast as he could type: This means something. He has a secret life. I have Questions.
*****
I made some choices earlier this week, folks. This is straight-up silly fluffy nonsense meant to be amusing and not to be thought about even slightly seriously, it cannot hold up under the strain. Just turn your brain off and enjoy the gossamer-thin veil of plausibility.
Hey! I translated your fic A bit wit a dog into russian and promised you to send the link so here it is ficbook. net/readfic/ 9714669 :)) btw the fic was in the popular fics in the fandom Hannibal which proves that your stories are great! thank you!
OMG how delightful, thank you! I’m still very fond of A Bit With A Dog - Annoyed Chiyoh is very important to me - and I’m glad it will be out there for Russian-speakers to read if they’d like. It’s lovely. You’re lovely. <3
more 90s college goth club AU twitfic for @notoriousfish, (part one) stashed here for preservation purposes (and to fix an error or two because god forbid twitter have any kind of edit window).
the entire purpose of this ficlet is: Lan Wangji should get to wear a corset too, as a treat.
***********
LWJ is clearly the ice queen of the local scene if we’re role-reversing this. Gorgeous, untouchable, WILL murder you with three words and a slow blink.
LWJ is also a music student who books the practice room right after WWX. Presumably he exists somewhere other than these two spaces but WWX has never seen him. It's like he just teleports in and out. Where does he live? Does he eat? Is he a mean sexy ghost? Do ghosts fuck?
WWX is perpetually running late, perpetually leaving something in the practice room and having to interrupt LWJ to get it. He's pretty sure LWJ hates him personally and specifically. He had a sex dream about LWJ stepping on him after the first time he saw him wearing a corset .
NHS knows everything about everyone in the small town club scene but nothing about LWJ which either means he is SO freaky that he has his lovers sign NDAs or he is, god forbid, a heterosexual. NHS does not understand their ways and prefers not to perceive or be perceived by them.
They spend a lot of time speculating about this. NHS isn't into the ice queen thing for himself but he does want to know the secret to LWJ's eyeliner so he's on WWX's side.
Sometimes LXC is at the goth club and WWX thinks for weeks that he's banging a string of very bendy dimpled twinks until he finally realized it's just one bendy twink who changes his look drastically every week
So there's a good long stretch of time that's basically just "WWX annoys LWJ in the practice rooms of the music department, and lusts quietly (or sometimes, after a few drinks, loudly) after him at the goth club. Look. No one can blame him. LWJ has like, a lot. Of lacy clothes. And this knack to layers so you're only ever seeing stray bits of skin at a time and it's deeply and personally frustrating to WWX's dick.
Also he wears mostly all black at the club but white at school and maaaaybe the occasional pastel, and WWX is maybe a little obsessed with it. Is he good and evil twins. Is he a multiple personality. (NHS is like "my dude, SOME of us wear more than just black and red, it doesn't have to Mean Things, and also don’t stigmatize people with mental health conditions,” but WWX is down the rabbit hole now and will not hear it.)
So this all goes on until, oh, let's say LWJ finds himself with car trouble at 2 a.m. outside the club. (Did NHS steal his spark plug or something? Probably not but who can say, even he was getting tired of listening to the All LWJ All The Time Obsession Broadcast straight from WWX's id.)
WWX stumbles out of the door, drunk and loose and happy and tousled, and nearly wanders straight past LWJ but then he stops and blinks and refocuses and is like......okay I know he hates me and wants to crush me but a good person would stop and help and anyway being crushed by someone this beautiful would not be a bad way to go. Maybe he'd take pity on me and do it with his thighs.
He hopes he didn't say that part out loud.
Hard to tell from the way LWJ is staring at him and gripping the car door like he might accidentally tear it off any moment. But he offers to help and LWJ accepts it and stands back, and WWX dives in. There's a lot of shit he doesn't know how to do but he can do cars; he can fix things, generally.
It takes a little while to get sorted out. He has to strip off his good leather jacket and give it to LWJ to hold so he doesn't catch it on anything. LWJ stares at him blankly, but takes it. If he were someone else, WWX would get ideas from the way his gaze slides over WWX's newly-bared arms. But LWJ does offer to give him a ride back to the dorm in the newly-functional car.
He sounds annoyed about it - it's late and he probably just wants to get home. But he offers because even though he hates WWX personally and specifically, he's apparently a well-raised guy. A nice boy. A nice boy in fishnets and a band of leather under his jaw that you could hook a finger into and just PULL.
God. It's all WWX has ever wanted. If LWJ leaned forward a little more WWX might be able to see a nipple, given how low the corset rides. He takes his jacket back gratefully and holds it in front of him. Just in case. His clubbing jeans don't leave a ton to the imagination.
The ride back isn't actually as awkward as it might be. They talk about the car. LWJ explains that he's not supposed to do things that might fuck up his hands. Side effect of being a professional musician. He's surprised WWX can. WWX explains the flute is just his minor; he's actually in neuroscience, studying catatonia - he's got big ideas about music therapy and catatonic states. So he's not as hardcore about his precious hands as the real music students.
He stares at LWJ's hands on the steering wheel a lot during this conversation. They're big and beautiful and he thinks wildly that LWJ probably isn't allowed to fist people, and he doesn't even know why he's thinking about this, probably no one ACTUALLY does that outside of porn anyway, and he coughs and stares out the window and babbles about god only knows what until they get back to the dorm.
(Sidebar: several months later when WWX confesses to this thought, LWJ will turn several shades of pink and then announce that he can probably clear an opening in his schedule for...that. And that is how WWX ends up with FISTING DAY all planned out on his calendar with little confetti emojis surrounding a hand, which is very funny until JC reminds him that there are PRIVACY SETTINGS for a REASON when you SHARE CALENDARS with your SIBLINGS, and WWX cackles and adds a Countdown To Fisting Day leading up to it. And then he cries a lot of sex tears and doesn't actually chop off LWJ's hand at the wrist with the sheer power of his butt or anything, and it's all very good and Fisting Day becomes a semi-regular event and JC stops looking at the shared calendar altogether.)
WWX somehow manages to get LWJ into the dorm by promising him the Real Student Experience, Come On, Lan Zhan, You Have To See An Actual Dorm Before You Graduate, It's Like, A Law. (He's learned from the car convo that LWJ lives off campus with his brother and sometimes the bendy twink.)
His dorm is at the farthest end of campus; it's officially the Diversity Dorm for marginalized students of various stripes but unofficially it's the Burial Mounds because a) it's full of queer weirdos who love a good Bury Your Gays joke and b) there's an abandoned student art project outside that looks like a graveyard.
He chivvies LWJ past the bored front desk guard and into the rickety deathtrap elevator and past the common room full of deadeyed study zombies and finally to his room. NHS is awake and painting; he doesn't take his headphones off but he waves at them and arches one eyebrow at WWX, who glares and motions frantically him to not make this weird.
The Grand Tour Of A Dorm Room takes about twenty seconds and then all WWX's bravado deflates. He's gotten them this far but now he looks around it's just...a dingy little room, strewn with all the clothes he tried on and discarded for the evening, his books and snacks and family photos. It feels too revealing and too depressing all at once.
LWJ makes it less weird, though. He asks about the photos and WWX tells him all about JC and JYL and home, and LWJ only asks a few questions but they're good ones, and it turns out that LWJ sort of - thaws, away from public spaces. Or maybe he's just sleepy now. Whatever it is, he's gone soft around the edges and WWX really likes it. It's bad. He didn't need more reasons to like LWJ.
But LWJ is making noises about leaving now - still a nice boy, not wanting to take up his host's time and outstay his welcome - and WWX sort of panics and yells YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE BALCONY YET and flings open the window and crawls out on the roof. They call it the balcony, he explains. It sounds fancier. They smoke out here. It's expressly forbidden but no one's awake to see.
C'mon, Lan Zhan, can you make it in those boots?
LWJ can. There's one tricky moment when his fancy hair thing almost catches on the window sash, but he makes it out onto the broad nearly-flat expanse of roof. It's really late now; it feels like just the two of them in the whole wide world. WWX asks LWJ why he never talks to anyone but his brother at the club, and LWJ explains he likes the music and he likes to dress up but he doesn't really like...people.
WWX is like, so your dream would be to get very fancy and go to the club and listen to music in an empty room? And LWJ gets a little dreamy-eyed and says that sounds AMAZING, and WWX says, you are very weird but in a very cool way. I thought you hated me but I'm weirdly glad to know you just hate the entire human race. "I do not hate you," LWJ says, weirdly formal, and WWX goes warm all over and he might blush a little but he's fairly sure it won't show in the moonlight.
WWX watches him for a minute and then says, hey, congratulations, you're a real Dorm Student now, you've smoked on the roof! Now to get the full normal student experience you just have to change your major, get really sick on the hot wings from the worst campus dining place, and make a bad kissing decision.
LWJ sits with that for a minute.
He takes all of WWX's dumb proclamations so seriously, like every one of the torrent of WWX's words is worth consideration, and it's - nice. Unusual.
Finally he says, "I like my major and I'm a vegetarian."
WWX stares. LWJ stares back. They are both very bad at this.
"So. That just leaves bad kissing decisions."
Stare. Stare.
Lean. Lean.
They're about two seconds away from kissing.
And then WWX opens his big helpless stupid mouth and says, "...unless you like girls? 'Cause I thought maybe you only like girls."
LWJ groans and kisses him VERY hard to shut him up. They nearly fall off the roof. It's completely worth it.
He ends up staying the night. They don't do more than make out because NHS is RIGHT THERE, but WWX does get to unlace LWJ from his corset and it's exactly as sexy as he thought it would be and he nearly expires on the spot. In the morning they sleep so that NHS will go away and they can have the room to themselves and they 1000% do bone. And then WWX offers to try to find some clothes that LWJ can fit into so he doesn't have to Walk of Shame in his club outfit, and LWJ is just like...I am not ashamed. And WWX nearly expires again. This whole experience is taking years off his life but it's worth it.
So he throws on his normal non-goth-club clothes (which frankly are basically the same but with less jewelry) and walks LWJ to his car at 10 a.m. in his full club regalia, and they make out some more up against the car before LWJ goes home.
And that is the story of how WWX becomes a dorm legend and also, eventually, gets to find out about the even sexier corsetry and lace that LWJ has for NON-clubbing purposes, and peace reigns in the practice rooms and the goth club and everyone lives happily ever after.
Until in the natural course of integrating their social circles, NHS' big brother meets LWJ's big brother and his bendy dimpled twink, but that's another story for another day.
So @notoriousfish shook me upside down and some 90s Goth Kid AU twitfic fell out because we both have a lot of lingering feelings about clove cigarettes and stompy boots.
I refuse to try to make this be an actual fic right now; No More WIPs For Me Until I Finish One, As A Treat. But I do want to save it for future consideration. So I’m just gonna drop it here, for the record.
+++++
pls feel free to imagine LWJ attempting to study in a corner while the Goth Club crowd is giggling handsily all over the place, leather-bound throats tipped back in laughter, clove scent everywhere even though indoor smoking is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses
and it's disruptive and rude and disrespectful of quiet hours but also he can't help but wonder what it would be like to be the hands for whom WWX goes quiet and still under an eyeliner pencil, or to cinch up a corset or or or or
there's no good reason he should wait up, and if absolutely pushed he would say it's because he's appropriately concerned about his dormmates' safety or that they're sneaking back in after curfew
he would never say it's because something about the way WWX is when he comes back, loose and easy from - what? drinking? dancing? does he fuck someone in a shitty club bathroom? not knowing makes LWJ's imagination unbearably creative - makes LWJ's entire body go hot and wanting
It starts with the cloves, probably. WWX catches LWJ looking stressed and offers him one. LWJ tried one of LXC's Springwaters once and it was...fine? He didn't feel the need to try it again. But the cloves smell different. Complicated? Like autumn? Fire and dangerous things.
And honestly when was the last time anyone even noticed he was stressed. When anyone but his family bothered to peek under the mask. What if he just - let this awful, beautiful boy be nice to him, for five minutes.
(It's a terrible idea because afterwards he tastes the lingering spicy-sweetness on his own lips which means now he knows what WWX's mouth tastes like and it's...not something he needed to know. It's pushing out math equations, he's pretty sure, a whole part of his brain gone.)
He doesn’t accept an invitation to join the group the first time or the fifth; he doesn't believe WWX means it any more than any casual invitation he issues, the arms he slings around just about anyone's shoulders, it's not...none of it's FOR LWJ. Letting himself think it is would just be borrowing trouble.
But eventually. Edging up on winter break, maybe, JC's down with a cold and NHS is reluctantly helping with a family thing and Mianmian left for the club an hour ago because she had a cute girl to meet and was impatient with WWX's dithering about wardrobe.
WWX just shows up at LWJ's door with four pairs of nearly identical boots and is like I AM HAVING A CRISIS AND YOU'RE MY ONLY HOPE. LWJ is. Well. He'd fully intended to sort out the boot crisis and send WWX on his way. But apparently he's planning to WALK.
In the FRIGID NOVEMBER AIR. WEARING MESH. JC would make him wear a coat or take a Lyft but he's not there. If LWJ doesn't go along, WWX is going to probably die in a ditch and it's going to be his fault.
(He wants to pile four coats on WWX. He wants to strip him out of the mesh entirely. He's short-circuiting a little bit, improbable and contradictory impulses flying every which way. In retrospect he's never actually sure how he ends up wearing WWX's boots to the club.)
LWJ lets WWX bully him into dark clothing - "THERE ARE BLACK LIGHTS, YOU WILL GLOW LIKE A BEACON IF YOU SHOW UP LIKE THAT, IT WOULD BE AMAZING BUT YOU'D HATE IT, PROBABLY" - and in the process he manages to drape a sweater around WWX's shoulders.
It makes him feel a way, probably, mingled satisfaction and nerves. He does not trip on the way to the club. He wore WWX's clunky boots, not the ones with the heels.
(He will live for a week on the way WWX looked at him when he tried on the ones with the heels, though. It was like being personally noticed by the sun.) He, yes, keeps WWX warm. Cups his hands together to ward away the breeze when WWX lights up another cigarette.
WWX can't actually be looking up at him through his eyelashes as he drags the first puff deep, making sure the burning ember will hold, their heights are all wrong for it. It feels that way anyway, somehow?
Something about the mascara, maybe, and the angles of their heads bent close together against the outside world. How does makeup work. How do faces work.
It's only a few blocks. A ten minute walk. It's not a surprise that WWX spends it talking - he talks SO MUCH, LWJ is not sure how they are even the same species - but it isn't the bright foolish chatter he usually overhears.
WWX saw one of the books LWJ was reading for his honors thesis and he has THOUGHTS about it. They're insightful. They're *helpful*. They're punctuated with emphatic waves of the cigarette that almost put LWJ's eye out once, and *no one* is that excited about LWJ's topic but LWJ. It's...unexpected. And then they arrive.
LWJ expects that WWX is going to pull him inside into the thudding frenzy of god only knows what bacchanalia he's imagining inside, a pulse he can feel through the thick concrete walls, and he assumes WWX will disappear into a crowd and LWJ will lean against the wall.
Eventually he'll feel he can politely leave, and maybe WWX will return his sweater the next day and LWJ will give the boots back and it will be fine. A small adventure, which is all LWJ's regimented schedule and heart really have time for anyway.
The thing is, though, that WWX still has half a cigarette left. (It's the third one. How does he still have LUNGS to talk this much.) And he just...leans back, against the horrifying wall smudged with god knows what, and looks up at the cool clear sky.
"This is nice, isn't it?" he says. Like he's not going anywhere. Like the club isn't pulsing at his back like a living thing he was so frantic to get to twenty minutes ago. "Let's stay out here a little while," he says, as if LWJ might say no.
Holds out the pack for LWJ to light up too, if he wants. If he does, it will take so much longer. By the time he's finished, WWX will have lit up again and how will they ever get inside at all? Later, he'll think that this was the moment.
There were things he missed along the way that he'll understand later, flirtations he misinterpreted, moments he closed his eyes to. But this one is unmistakable: when they chose each other. He takes the pack and the lighter from WWX's hand. WWX smiles so gently.
LWJ doesn't kiss him, not then, but that's when he knows he will.
