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fallinallincurls · 20 hours ago

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Miles Away, I've Always Loved You

this is my entry for the 2025 winter fic exchange hosted by the lovely @wyattjohnston!! thank you as always for hosting!

my fic is for @writingonleaves! i had lots of fun writing this one and really hope you love it just as much.

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 5.1k

The knock on the door startles Reagan out of her thoughts. She had been mentally trying to figure out how to organize the bookshelf in her living room now that it’s been built.

The apartment is still mostly a mess. The move to Vancouver had been circled on her calendar for months, but Reagan knew the worst part about moving cross country completely by herself would be the unpacking and setting up of a new place. And so far, she’s been right.

From putting together all the furniture on her own, opening and emptying box after box and feeling that same exhaustion hit her every few hours, the move has been an insane amount of work to say the least. But she couldn’t be happier knowing that she moved to this city that she’s still a little familiar with for the job of her dreams. That alone makes everything worth it.

There’s another knock at the door and Reagan lets out a deep sigh. She’s not expecting someone as no one in the city knows who she is since she just arrived three days ago. She abandons the stacks of books on the floor and heads to the door, wondering who could possibly be on the other side.

Without bothering to look through the peephole, which might’ve been a mistake, Reagan swings open the door to reveal a man she’s never seen before. He looks just a little older than her 25 years of age, has a big smile that wrinkles the corners of his eyes and his hair is neatly styled. Before she can even open her mouth to say anything, he’s already speaking.

“Oh, hey!” He says with an element of surprise in his voice. “I didn’t know Cap had a girl, but I’m new here so I'm still trying to learn all of that, you know?”

She doesn’t know in fact because she has no idea what he’s talking about and the confusion must be evident on Reagan’s face because he continues talking in effort to explain.

“Um, I’m here for the team dinner? Apparently it’s tradition here for the captain to host everyone before training camp starts and so I brought this,” he shows you a bottle of expensive wine and then a container of store bought cookies, “and these.”

Everything the stranger standing in front of her has said only made the situation more odd. Team dinner? Tradition? He clearly mixed up numbers and is at the wrong apartment.

“I’m sorry,” she starts, but is almost immediately cut off when another voice calls out from down the hallway.

“Jake!”

The man turns towards the voice and a look of recognition passes over his face as his smile seemingly becomes brighter at the sight of whoever said his name.

“Q!” He says brightly, before returning his attention to her. “I’m sorry, I must’ve mixed up the apartment numbers.”

“It’s no problem.” Reagan reassures him before he waves a goodbye and starts heading to the apartment next to hers. The curiosity gets the better of her and she glances over to see who “Q” was and that’s when everything comes to a halt.

Because Q, or cap as Jake also called him, is Quinn Hughes. Her ex-boyfriend. The love of her life. And now, apparently, her next door neighbor.

Quinn must have sensed another pair of eyes on him because he looks over and meets her gaze. A look of disbelief crosses over his face for a split second, his brows furrowed in confusion as he realizes who his teammate bothered in the mixup.

“Reagan?”

It might have been two years since the last time she saw him, but hearing her name rolling off his tongue still had the same effect on her as it did then.

“Quinn?” She asks in response, unable to comprehend that he’s standing less than 100 feet away from her. Quinn. Her Quinn.

“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, just moved in a few days ago.” Reagan starts to explain and then a rush of worry hits her. “I finally got the job I’ve been waiting for and it just so happened to be here in Vancouver. I had no idea you lived in this building at all,”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Quinn says softly, cutting off her rambling. “Congratulations, I know how hard you worked to get through school and do everything you could to get this job.”

“Thank you.” Reagan murmurs, pushing her hair behind her ear and nervously dropping her gaze to the floor. All the heartbreak from the last few years has disappeared in the matter of seconds and it almost feels like she’s back there. In a time where they were still together and so in love with each other.

But Reagan knows that’s not her reality anymore. Now, she’s standing in her doorway looking at the man who she gave her heart to all those years ago, but now he’s almost a stranger. Just her neighbor in a new city.

“Uh, I know this is probably unexpected and way too sudden, but do you want to come over for dinner? There’s definitely enough food and everything.”

Reagan feels a wave of surprise wash over her at his offer and even though her heart is screaming to say yes, she knows she can’t accept. At least not right now.

“Thank you for offering, but I’m okay. Still trying to get adjusted and all. Another time?” She replies, trying to push away the want that’s arisen within her. She wants to spend time with him even if she hasn’t seen him in a while and her heart is still a little broken. Quinn nods in understanding, a strand of hair falling perfectly over his forehead, but Reagan sees the familiar look of sadness in his blue green eyes.

A loud yell erupts from inside Quinn’s apartment disrupting the quiet air around the two of them.

“I should probably get back. Almost the entire team is in there and I don’t trust a lot of them by themselves.” Quinn chuckles and Reagan feels a smile tug at her lips. “It was really great to see you. I hope Vancouver treats you well.”

“Thanks, Quinn. Same to you.”

Quinn flashes you a sweet smile before ducking back inside. When the door to his apartment closes behind him, Reagan lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Not only does she have to navigate life in a new city with a new job, but now she has to handle living next to her ex, the man who was her everything, on top of everything else.

The memories that came rushing back the moment she realized it was him standing in the hallway linger in her mind for a little longer. All the shared kisses, big hugs after good and bad games, nights on the porch at the lake house in the offseason, his unwavering support for everything she did, early mornings spent cuddling and so much more.

Reagan knew when they broke up that she would miss him for the rest of her life, but it feels like the wound has been reopened seeing him unexpectedly in person. Of course, she’s kept tabs on him by tuning into a few Canucks games and for a while, Jack was sending her regular life updates but those slowly came to an end.

Her heart aches knowing she is going to have to see him more often now that they’re neighbors. It’s a curveball she never saw coming or even considered when she chose to move to the city that he lives and plays in. But here she is.

With a shake of her head, Reagan clears her mind and pushes open her front door again. There’s relief that the entire interaction is over, both with Quinn and his teammate, but in a strange way, she also misses talking to him already.

Nothing could prepare her for randomly seeing the man she still loved years after he broke her heart.

A few days later, Reagan gets a strong sense of deja vu. She’s attempting to put together the coffee table for the third time, after the first two tries were unsuccessful, when there’s a knock at her door.

A heavy sigh slips past your lips as she drops the useless IKEA instructions to the floor. She’s already preparing a little speech in her head in anticipation it’s another one of Quinn’s teammates who got the apartment numbers mixed up again.

“Hey, sorry, Quinn is-“ Reagan starts as the door swings open and reveals the blue green eyed, curly haired hockey player who lives next door. “here?” She finishes, more like a question than a statement.

“Hey,” Quinn says, flashing that soft smile that makes her heart melt. “I, um,” he pauses, almost as if collecting his thoughts to get exactly what he wants to say correct. “I know how hard it is to move to a new place by yourself having done it myself so I wanted to help with anything you need. And I brought breakfast too. Hopefully your usual order hasn’t changed.”

Reagan’s heart swells with adoration, remembering this is the version of Quinn she fell in love with. The kind, thoughtful man who continuously surprised her in ways she never thought possible. And against all odds, here he is again.

She’s stunned into silence for a few seconds, overwhelmed by his offer. It’s genuine and shows he cares even after all this time but allowing him to help means spending time with him, reconnecting, and Reagan doesn’t know if she’s ready for that just yet.

But she also really wants that coffee table to be built. So for right now, the pros outweigh the cons.

“Thank you so much, Quinn. That’s really thoughtful of you and honestly, there are a few things I’ve realized I can’t accomplish by myself no matter how hard I try.”

Quinn’s smiling genuinely now. He can’t believe she’s letting him help despite the fact they haven’t seen each other in a while minus the mixup the other day. But he doesn’t care. This is his opportunity to catch up with her and he’s going to cherish every second.

“That’s why I’m here.” He chuckles in response, handing her the iced coffee and bagel he picked up for her. “Order still the same?” He asks again, more out of curiosity than anything.

“Order’s still the same. I’m more surprised you remembered it.”

Of course he remembers it. He remembers everything about Reagan despite the fact there was a time where he wished he could forget everything about her. He remembers the show she would only watch before bed and the scent of her favorite shampoo. He remembers the feel of her hand in his and the way he always felt so safe with her in his arms. He remembers her go-to lazy dinner and the songs she loved screaming at the top of her lungs in the car.

He remembers it all. But now, Reagan feels like a stranger for so many reasons.

Quinn takes this moment to really look at her. She’s still breathtakingly gorgeous. but he notices her wavy dark brown hair is lighter than he remembers it. Maybe she got highlights or has dyed it since the breakup. There are more freckles scattered across her cheeks than there were when they met. She’s wearing an old oversized Umich shirt that he realizes at the last second might be his. But when her brown eyes meet his, any anxiety he feels about this moment falls away.

This is still Reagan. His Reagan. Yes, it’s been a while but he knows her. She hasn’t changed that much. If she’s letting him help and being friendly, maybe she doesn’t hate him like he always thought she did after the way things ended between them.

“Of course I remember it.” Quinn says with a shrug, trying not to reveal how much he misses her. “So what do you need help with first?” He asks as Reagan waves him into her apartment and closes the door behind him.

Reagan explains her dilemma with the uncooperative coffee table which takes first priority before going through a small list of things she wanted to get done today like unpack her kitchen and finish building her vanity. Quinn nods along to everything she says, seemingly happy to offer his help even if he doesn’t] have to.

“Thank you,” Reagan says softly, the two words holding more meaning than she ever thought could be possible. Quinn gives her a slightly confused look as he sits down on the floor ready to tackle the coffee table. “For everything. You didn’t have to bring breakfast over and offer to help me get settled in considering we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I really do appreciate it.”

“I’d do anything for you, Rea.”

Hearing that one line and the use of the nickname only Quinn has ever used for her sends a shiver through her body. She feels her heart being tugged in his direction again even if it never fully healed from their end years ago, but she desperately tries to keep herself in check. Their relationship came to an end because of him. Quinn wanted to focus solely on hockey and his need to constantly get better on the ice was more important than keeping her in his life.

So she moved on after he broke her heart. Or she thought she did until she saw him the other day. Her feelings have rushed back in no time, like nothing happened in the first place, but Reagan knows better.

“I know,” she murmurs, voice quiet as the wave of emotions hit her. “I’m going to start unpacking the kitchen. Let me know if you need any help. The instructions have been useless.” Quinn chuckles, that adorable sound filling her with a sense of happiness she hasn’t felt in so long. To this day his laugh is still one of her favorite sounds in the whole entire world.

For a good hour or so, the two of them work in comfortable silence. A random playlist Reagan selected is playing from a bluetooth speaker and every once in a while, she hears Quinn curse under his breath. She catches herself smiling a few times, the familiarity of it all bringing back so many memories.

“Reagan?” Quinn tentatively disrupts the quiet as she’s reaching up to place a stack of plates in a cabinet above the kitchen counter.

“Hm?” She hums in response, letting out a sign of relief when she gets the plates on the shelf. Quinn is grinning at the sight of her on her tiptoes trying to reach a higher shelf in her new home. This is something else that hasn’t changed since they were together. She still refuses to use any help to reach higher places despite being small enough that it would be beneficial.

“Coffee table is finished.” He says, pointing over his shoulder when she turns around to look at him. “You weren’t lying about it being difficult, but it’s done.” A look of surprise crosses over her face and something about her right then makes Quinn’s heart ache.

He knows he messed up when he broke it off with her years ago. His head was too stuck on hockey and only hockey. There was an unbearable amount of pressure on his shoulders after being drafted and he felt like he had to not only live up to the expectations, but defy them. And through all that, he lost the greatest thing to ever happen to him.

Reagan.

The woman who showed him unconditional love from the moment they met in college all the way through to the very end. Reagan who was there for every accomplishment and disappointment that happened in his career. The woman who always made sure he knew so many people, including her, were unbelievably proud of him at all times no matter what happened.

He never thought he would get to see her again and somehow here he is in her apartment that’s right next to his in the city that he’s been his second home for the last six years.

“Told you I wasn’t lying.” She laughs, the sound filling Quinn with joy like it always has. “We can tackle the vanity next if you’re up for it. It’s a lot for just one person.”

She leads him into her office where the unopened box is laying on the ground where she envisions the piece of furniture. Without a moment of hesitation, they get started on building the vanity as conversation flows freely. Quinn fills her in on everything going on with the Canucks from new teammates to how he likes being captain. She listens as he recommends some new restaurants and places to check out around the city and she fills him in on how everyone is doing back home in Michigan. Quinn asks about her new job and he can’t hide how proud he is when she tells him she got accepted into the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.

Reagan has been playing the french horn since fourth grade and that’s the entire reason they met in college since Quinn ran into her at a UMich football game when she was part of the marching band. He remembers being struck by how pretty she was then even in the slightly unflattering bright blue and yellow uniform she was wearing with her instrument in hand. Over time as they became friends and eventually got together, Quinn learned her biggest dream was to play in a symphony. It’s difficult to get a seat anywhere, but if anyone could do it, Quinn knew it would be her. Reagan was talented, always has been, and knowing all that hard work finally paid off makes him beyond happy.

And secretly, he’s never been so glad that the music she loves so much brought her to the city he lives in now.

“I was nervous about being accepted. It’s one of the most prestigious symphonies on the West Coast, but I was sick of being in Michigan again even if I do love it there, so I took a chance and it worked out.” Reagan explains shyly, her eyes dropping to her fiddling fingers.

“Hey,” Quinn says, abandoning the half built vanity for a second to take hold of her hands. “I’m so proud of you. You deserve that seat and it’s incredibly brave of you to pack up and move halfway across the continent to live out your dream.”

They both are aware of the unspoken words there. That it was also brave to come back to the city where their love story crashed and burned.

“Thank you, Quinny. That means a lot.” The words are barely out of Reagan’s mouth before Quinn is wrapping his strong arms around her in a tight embrace. She melts into the hug, her head resting on his shoulder and lets the comfort wash over her. Quinn lets out a small sigh of relief. He missed having her in his arms and the feeling of peace that surrounds him is unmistakable.

God, he messed up so bad by letting her go, by ruining the best thing he’s ever had because he thought he couldn’t balance the pressure of being an NHL player and a relationship at the same time.

“Good to know Huggy Bear’s still got it.” Reagan teases him, reluctantly pulling away even if she wants to stay in his arms forever. But she can’t. She’s not that girl for him anymore.

“Yeah, yeah.” Quinn laughs, used to hearing the nickname his teammates gave him years ago when he joined the team. He meets her gaze and it’s then that an idea hits him. Reagan can see the look of hesitation in his blue green eyes, but waits patiently for him to continue. “Whenever you get settled in here and everything, would you maybe want to go skating? I know we used to go all the time and there’s this cool rink downtown you would love, but no pressure if not. I’m sure you’re going to be busy with work and adjusting to a new city.”

Reagan knows she should say no. She knows it would be better to leave the past in the past. But something about the way Quinn asks with pure honesty tugs at her and the small hope that maybe their love could get a second chance after all this time blossoms.

So she says yes.

“I would love that. Just text me when you’re free and we can schedule something.”

Quinn’s happiness at her response is immediately noticeable even though he tries to hide it so it’s not as obvious. The smile Reagan adores so much is on full display and she couldn’t be happier to have him in her half furnished apartment just days after she moved back to the city where her heart was broken.

Before she can get too swept up in the emotions, she gently pushes Quinn’s chest and giggles.

“We’ve got a list of things to do, Hughes. Get back to work.”

And with that, both of them work together to get through all the tasks Reagan wanted accomplished. That familiar sense of peace envelops the apartment and for the first time in a long time, Reagan’s heart isn’t heavy with sadness. Instead, it swells with joy like no other.

Between Quinn’s busy schedule of games, practices and traveling and Reagan’s new work schedule of getting acquainted with the symphony and joining practices of her own, it took a few weeks for them to find a day to go skating together.

But in that time, a constant stream of texts were exchanged and phone calls were made whether Quinn was next door or on the road. Reagan learned all about what happened in Quinn’s life for the two years she wasn’t part of it and heard so many stories of his teammates and his brothers, who she also missed since she hadn’t spoken to either of them since the breakup.

Quinn got a glimpse into who Reagan is now and if possible, he feels himself falling even harder for her all over again. His feelings never truly went away but every time he heard her laugh or she shared a secret, he knew that even after all that time, this girl is still the one he wants.

Finally, the agreed upon Sunday arrives and Quinn’s quiet, but strong knock sounds through Reagan’s apartment as she pulls a beanie on her head.

“Coming!” She yells, almost tripping on her way to the door. She’s nervous and excited all at once. When the door swings open, Reagan’s breath is stolen away for a second as Quinn stands in front of her looking extra cozy and comfy bundled up for the cold. His eyes are alight with wonder and his somewhat wild brown curls are peeking out from under his favorite navy blue beanie. He has a hoodie on under his winter jacket and there’s the faintest blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Hey, Rea,” Quinn greets her with a bright smile. The old nickname still sends a jolt of happiness through her veins even though he’s used it frequently over the last few weeks and she can’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe this is just the two of them going skating together, but there is a sense of something more in the air and if there’s even a chance Quinn wants to give their relationship another chance, Reagan is all in. She can tell he’s grown and matured in the time they’ve spent apart and if she didn’t see that, it would be much easier to ignore the feelings she has for him.

“Hey!” She replies, giving him a quick hug. Quinn is a little surprised, but welcomes the embrace for a moment before she pulls away and starts speaking in excitement. “Don’t worry about skates for me, I still use my favorite pair,” Reagan lifts her white pair of Bauer skates up and then glances at her warm, but cute winter outfit, “and I’m dressed for the weather since you said the rink is outside.”

“You’re all prepared,” Quinn chuckles, “Let’s go then.” He says almost sheepishly like he’s nervous all of the sudden, and reaches for her hand. Reagan intertwines her gloved fingers with his and offers him a reassuring smile to silently say “this is okay.” The rink is just a few blocks away from their shared apartment building so the walk over is cold, but brief and full of laughter and conversation between the two of them.

Reagan catches a glimpse of the rink when Quinn stops walking at the opening of a large clearing and her heart starts racing.

They are at Robson Square Ice Rink. The prettiest rink in all of Vancouver in Reagan’s opinion, but it’s also her favorite and was dubbed her and Quinn’s spot when they were dating.

“Quinn,” Reagan breathes out in disbelief. She doesn’t need to say anything else, Quinn can read all the emotions on her face. He squeezes her hand in reassurance while flashing her a sweet smile before leading her to the benches to help put her skates on.

“Come on,” He murmurs and Reagan swallows down the emotions in an effort to take in every detail of this moment. She immediately starts unlacing her skates when they claim a spot on the bench, but Quinn insists on doing it himself.

“I can do it myself, you know.”

“I know,” Quinn replies cheekily. “But you deserve to be taken care of so let me do it even if it’s just this one time.” Reagan sighs, in pure dramatics, which makes Quinn chuckle but her heart is warm and fuzzy. This is why she fell in love with him in the first place. He’s the most caring person she knows and would do anything for her. That much clearly hasn’t changed.

Reagan keeps her eyes on Quinn as he ties her skates perfectly until he taps the heel of her right skate to signal that she’s good to go and freezes. Her brows furrowed in confusion for a moment until it hits her.

Quinn got these skates for her years ago. They were her first pair and one of the best gifts she has ever received. But after taking them out for a few spins, she noticed that he had them customized. There was a little blue 43 printed onto the outside of the heel on her right skate which is exactly what Quinn is staring at right now.

“It’s still there.” He says quietly, tracing the two numbers before meeting Reagan’s eyes. It’s almost as if he expected her to cover the numbers up herself after the breakup and although she was angry about how everything happened, these skates are a reminder of the blissful beginning and she wanted that to remain untouched.

“Of course it is.” And just like earlier, this feels as if the simple moment holds a double meaning. As if that tiny 43 is a sign of hope for Quinn that he might get a second chance. That there’s still a spot for him in Reagan’s heart.

They share soft smiles and sit in the comfortable silence for a moment as Quinn puts his skates on. When Quinn takes her hand to help her onto the ice, Reagan lets herself be fully present. Months ago she never thought about reconnecting with the man who broke her heart, but now she couldn’t be happier that they’re friends again. She missed him beyond words.

It took a few laps around the rink to get her footing back, but once she did, she was challenging Quinn to races and constantly giggling as he tried to distract her from skating smoothly. Despite being one of the most well recognized people in the entire city of Vancouver, no one bothered Quinn on the public outdoor rink even if a few of the younger kids kept a watchful eye on him as if they recognized the captain of their favorite hockey team.

“How is it so far?” Quinn asks out of the blue as the two of them are skating at a leisurely pace. Reagan takes in the city skyline around them before meeting his gaze.

“Skating? Good! I always forget how fun it is and-”

“No,” he gently cuts you off and shakes his head, “I mean living in Vancouver. I know it’s been a huge adjustment for you.”

“Oh,” Reagan says in realization, taking a moment to think. “It’s been way better than I expected, honestly.” Quinn raises his eyebrows in surprise as an adorable smile blossoms across his face.

“Really?”

“Yeah and I have a sneaky feeling you already know you’re a big part of why that is, Quinny.” His cheeks become pink with blush and he looks down briefly before stopping the two of you for a second.

“Have you ever thought of giving us a second chance?”

The question is like a punch to the gut. Not only because Reagan never saw it coming, but it is exactly what she’s thought of asking Quinn herself a thousand times.

Has she thought of giving them another chance? Yes. Every single day she wonders what it would be like to be his girlfriend again. To allow herself to feel the overwhelming love she has for the oldest Hughes brother. To feel at home again because he’s back in her life. And Reagan has come to realize that she wants a second chance with Quinn more than anything.

He’s proven that he has grown and matured from the man he was years ago when he shattered her heart into a million pieces. He’s shown that her life and her dreams are just as important and he’ll do anything he can to support her every single day. His love has been on display since the first moment she saw him in the hallway of their apartment building weeks ago.

“Yes. Every single day.” Reagan responds with nothing but pure honesty.

“Me too.” Quinn almost whispers, trying not to let his nerves show. He’s biting his lip, a nervous habit of his that hasn’t disappeared. “Uh, you can say no if you’re not ready or anything, but would you like to go out with me? On a proper first date? Again?”

Instantly, a beaming smile is on Reagan’s face as his words process in her mind. It’s happening. Something she’s dreamed of for so long, it’s real.

“I’d love that, Quinn.” She hugs him tight, relishing in the joy rushing through her veins. Nothing could make this moment any better and when Quinn kisses her temple, also feeling the happiest he’s been in a long time, everything in the world feels right again.

#winter fic exchange 2k25 #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fics #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagines #nhl fic #nhl imagine #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hughes brothers #quinn hughes x oc

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screamlet · 1 day ago

Note

“I wish you would write a fic where…” Through whatever contrivance, Buck tries to woo Tommy back through trivia. Maybe he gets Tommy’s team in on it, or the emcee/host - but it’s all Tommy-themed questions because Buck is trying to prove he knows him. Does it work? Maybe it’s all surface level and it hurts Tommy as much as he appreciates it. Maybe he revealed more than he thought and Buck was listening, taking it all in. Maybe Tommy decided to participate against him and inadvertently reveals something or accidentally says he loves him or something. If you would like it, I humbly offer whatever you can do with this premise!

heeeeey it took one million years but here's something!!! i love shenanigans, i hope this lives up to them.

bucktommy fix-it, 2k

read on the ao3!

---

Tommy's not exactly kidnapped.

He's met in the parking lot at Harbor by Hen, Karen, and a couple of big smiles, and then shoved into the backseat of their car and driven off somewhere.

"You know, it's been my experience that some people text when they want to hang out," Tommy says.

"So you did ignore my voicemails!" Karen yells. "I knew it."

"It's not personal!" Tommy says.

"I'm taking it very personal," Hen replies. "Like hell you're leaving the Christmas card list again."

"I'll move."

"Not in this housing market."

Tommy groans because it's true.

And see, that's a little crazy but a little fun, to know that they care enough to abduct him and take him out for the night. It's then not really surprising that Howie's waiting for them at the bar they used to frequent ages ago, when Tommy was still at the 118.

"I got the cuffs," Howie announces, a pair of very-real looking handcuffs dangling from his fingers.

"Those better not be for me," Tommy says as Karen pulls him out of the car with shocking strength.

"Don't worry, they're not LAPD property," Hen assures him. "They're Bobby's."

"Please stop making me learn things," Tommy says.

He's already handcuffed. Howie's living-with-a-toddler sleight-of-hand has gotten unreal.

It's around this time that one shock wears off and another dawns: this is a scheme and Tommy is trapped.

"No no no no, whatever you're doing—"

"Chim, no!"

The bar's tables have been cleared from the center to make two long tables facing each other. Fine, cute, two teams, it's now clear to Tommy that he has to win Evan back or something with trivia. The difference, though, are the two chairs in the center, where Evan is already sitting (and handcuffed). He turns around, almost tipping the chair over except Eddie catches him.

"Fine, whatever," Tommy says as he's sat in the chair next to Evan. To make things better/worse (because Evan's so fucking squirmy), their chairs are put back to back so they can be tied together, too. "Oh, we're going full Last Crusade, are we, Howie?" Tommy has to grunt because Athena ties a really, really good knot and again: he wishes he knew less.

"If you had answered your phone," Bobby says coolly. "If you had bubbled less and texted more—"

Tommy whips his head around and smashes his skull right into Evan's. "Goddamn—you saw that? Why didn't you text, if you were just sitting there watching me type?"

Evan struggles against everything keeping them together, then finally says, "Because you left and you didn't want me! If you wanted me, you would have called! And now we're—" One more hard thrash that gets Tommy in the shoulder. "Kidnapped and this is your fault."

"It's my fault? You wanted me to give up—"

"No I didn't! I said something dumb and you walked out before—"

"No, no, no, we can talk later," Eddie says. "It's time for Buckley-Kinard Family Feud."

Tommy and Evan turn their heads at the same time. "The hell are you talking about?" Tommy asks.

"It's time to draft your teams," Hen announces. "I'm hosting, so I'm removing myself from the pool."

"This isn't fair! It's Buck's family—"

"You didn't just call me that in front of everyone," Evan hisses.

"It's Buck's family against me, I don't have anyone—"

"I'm drafting myself," Howie announces. "Buck, your turn."

"Fine, I pick Maddie," Evan replies.

"Don't sound too thrilled," she replies.

"Your next pick?" Hen asks Tommy.

"I told you, I don't—"

Bobby comes over to his side.

"You're insane," Tommy says.

"That's not fair!" Evan yells.

"I met him first, Buck," Bobby says placidly.

"Yeah, but—ugh, fine, then I pick Athena." Evan turns his head and bumps into Tommy's again. "You better not pick Eddie."

"I'm picking Karen," Tommy says. "She's my friend who's a lesbian—"

He can feel Evan tense against his back, probably out of frustration and a deep, deep desire to slam his skull into Tommy's again. He doesn't know how Evan resists.

"I've been bisexual for like, nine months, could you cut me some slack?" Evan asks.

"You spent an entire afternoon reading me articles and watching videos about the three-body problem and you couldn't fucking bother—"

"Because then I'd know," Evan yells. "I'd know that you and me were too good to be true, and I'd know that it was just temporary, and I'd know that you can't live your whole life one way and suddenly a guy kisses you and everything, everything is different, and your life's completely changed! I'd find something that would tell me it can't happen, it's probably not real, and then I'd realize I was wasting your time because I can never really change. If I looked at us too hard, I'd know it was just—"

Tommy's so overwhelmed, his chest so tight, that all he can manage to say is: "Yeah, it's called biphobia, and if you had asked, I don't know, one of the three gay people in your life—"

"I didn't know what to ask, Tommy! Fuck!" Evan tries to struggle out of their bindings again, but then he stops. "Apologize to me for being such a dick about this."

The room is tense and quiet, eerily quiet, until Tommy finally says, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? You're right and I'll stop throwing that at you. It's really unfair. It's unfair of me and unfair of, I don't know, the whole world, that made you think this could never be for you."

"That you could be it for me," Evan corrects.

"Sure, whatever." Tommy's voice is nowhere near as light and bitchy as he meant that to sound. "So are we gonna play this game or what? Now that we've got some teams of dubious quality?"

Bobby takes a seat at what is now, apparently, the Team Tommy table. "I know you like fresh pasta because then you can have soft pasta and no one will call you a heretic for not liking it al dente."

"That's psychotic," Tommy says. "And no one cooks it true al dente, it's always just barely cooked and I shouldn't have to chomp on pasta like a horse to enjoy it!"

Evan says, "And all of you said I was the weird one and he was the normal one."

"Literally no one said that, Buck," Eddie says. "You're both absurd, that's why you're perfect for each other."

"Well," Evan says, "I know you were thinking it."

"You were thinking it, and sometimes thoughts have to make it out of your mouth for people to hear them," Tommy snaps.

The entire room bursts into an uproar and Tommy tries to struggle out of his chair again. "Fine, fine, I'm a huge hypocrite, can I get a point for admitting it!"

"Yes, just one," Hen says. "Alright, gather up, teams. Bobby and Maddie, you're up first."

"This is a nightmare, this is a nightmare," Tommy whispers to himself. "I crashed my helicopter and this is hell."

"Hey, Mr. Keeping Your Thoughts Inside, we can't hear the question," Howie says.

"You're on my team, you have to be nice to me!"

Howie dramatically pops his piece of gum and says nothing.

"This first question is in the category of fashion," Hen reads off her phone. The TV over the bar has turned on to show a Family Feud style board with four options and Tommy can't believe his vision of hell is this detailed. It's impressive. "Name one novelty apron belonging to either Buck or Tommy."

Bobby slams his hand on the buzzer that someone brought for the occasion. "Tommy has one that says Warning: Fowl Language and it has a rooster on it." Bobby points at Tommy and says, "Sal gave it to you for your fake birthday, which is June 13, but your real birthday is in November."

The room is quiet again.

"You had a fake birthday?" Evan asks.

Tommy looks up at the ceiling. This means that he and Evan's heads are touching and he can't help but lean into it a little. He doesn't go any further, though. "Did I mention I'm like… that there's a lot of things wrong with me?"

"Yeah, these are really struggling to stay in the quirks category," Karen says. "But hell yes, one point! Let's go, Bobby!"

Bobby rejoins the team and Hen strolls down to their side of the room. "Now, Karen: can you name another apron that Tommy owns?"

Karen winces. "Okay, this can be any apron?"

"Any apron," Hen agrees.

"Alright, then I'm gonna say… a plain, utilitarian grey apron that he wears because he doesn't want to use the nice ones."

Hen says, "Show me boring!"

The word charcoal appears on the board with a (2) next to it.

"Two charcoal ones?" Maddie asks. "Tommy, love yourself."

"Yeah, I think that's the point here and I hate it," Tommy replies.

"Alright, Chim," Hen says. "Name another apron in Tommy's kitchen."

"I think we all saw Buck's lockscreen this summer," Howie says. "Tommy in a sleeveless shirt with a black apron that said Flippin' Awesome and had two spatulas crossed on the front."

"Show me spatulas!" Hen calls out. Another point.

"Cheap shot," Tommy says. "Evan gave me that, of course you knew that."

"Hey, genius, how do you think people learn things about each other?" Howie asks. "Hen, take it away."

"Alright, Team Buck," Hen says, wandering over to Maddie. "Name an apron you can find in Buck's kitchen." She turns her head and says, "And don't think we didn't notice he's Evan again."

Tommy turns his head away and whispers to Evan, "Can you make them stop? Please?"

"Sorry, do you think I wanted to be tied and handcuffed to you tonight?" A beat. "Okay, that's not—whatever, I'm suffering here, too."

"Are you?"

Evan huffs. "I'm tired of chasing after people who don't want me, and you don't want me."

Tommy stays quiet as Team Buck racks up bonus points for Evan's punny apron collection.

"I thought you'd call or text, or come over," Evan says, voice quieter. "You said, no matter how bad I want to be, so I thought… I don't know. I waited, Tommy. That didn't feel like the end. And you never answered my voicemails, so."

"I haven't checked my voicemail in five months," Tommy admits. "I saw you left a couple the week after and I just—I couldn't. I knew I'd—I'd press play and before you'd even said Hey I would be in my truck on my way to you."

"And would that have been so bad?"

Tommy drops his head down. "I wanted a clean break so we could both walk away."

"Tommy," Evan whispers. "No matter how bad you want that to be true… it's not."

Tommy nods to himself. "I'm sorry."

"I should have come after you," Evan says. "I should have broken down your door or, I don't know, hung onto your helicopter like Captain America."

"Yeah, good luck," Tommy laughs.

Between them, Evan's fingertips reach for Tommy's. They cling the best they can, and Tommy—he clings back.

"Do you mean it or do you just want to get away from everyone?" Evan asks.

"Well, apparently I can't get away from them." Evan laughs dryly, so Tommy clutches his fingers again. "I mean it. Both of those things. If they take the cuffs off, I won't run. Will you?"

Evan laughs. "Only if you'll follow."

"Then we should make a break for it."

"You got it."

---

read on the ao3!

#911 fic #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #my writing #my fic #tevan fic #kinley fic #writing games #game: i wish you would write #fix it fic #long post #fyi none of tommy's opinions are my opinions i just picked a bunch of unhinged shit out of a metaphorical bag #and i'm not taking any more of these in my ask- sorry!! i've got one more to finish ❤️

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scarlet-bee · 2 days ago

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[Plain text:

please help a disabled lesbian take care of her infant niece (urgent)

please help me. please. i’m only one person, i can only take so much before i lose it. it's been one thing after another after another and i'm at my wit's end. i can't do this alone

in the last month: my grandma passed away, our family dog passed away, my hydradenditis has flared up under my arms and my chest, and the icing on the cake is my sister is in jail and i’ve been tasked with taking care of my niece until she gets out. i have no clue when that will be, her next court date is the 17th. and this is all on top of the hell i’ve been going through the last year

i can’t even afford to feed myself or buy my medicine or pay my bills, let alone afford to take care of an infant who completely relies on me. i don’t even care if i have food or insulin at this point, please please help me take care of my niece. she’s going to need diapers and wipes very soon and she has food for now but will need more within the next two weeks? i’m not sure, i’m not equipped to deal with this but i’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that she is taken care of

i take art commissions, the turnaround time is obviously going to be slow right now but i’m more than happy to complete any requests, the link can be found below. if you’re not interested in art but still want to help, please consider sending a few dollars my way – every little bit helps more than you even know

Please boost this.

commissions post

p-yp-l

c-sh-pp

k-fi

monthly update:

my sister’s court dates have finally concluded; she’s being held in jail for four and a half months with time served counting towards her time on the shelf, so she’ll be released in late april if everything goes smoothly.

i’m still the sole caretaker of my niece. she just had her first birthday! she’s crawling like crazy and learning to walk while holding my fingers. she loves mac and cheese, and she hates carrots. she’s been sleeping a little better at night, although she still wakes up crying a couple times a week.

i hope i’m doing a good job of taking care of her, but i’m only one person, and i can’t even afford to take care of myself. my pain levels are never below a six, and i’m still living in this abusive household where i’m expected to play cinderella and be the caretaker for my niece.

i’m a multiply disabled unemployed person with no source of income – i am completely relying on the generosity of others to survive. if anyone wants to help support me, you can find my links below. if you can’t help monetarily, please spread this post to get the word out, i would appreciate it so so much. thank you for reading!

commissions post

p-yp-l

c-sh-pp

k-fi

End plain text.]

please help a disabled lesbian take care of her infant niece (URGENT)

please help me. please. i’m only one person, i can only take so much before i lose it. it's been one thing after another after another and i'm at my wit's end. i can't do this alone

i can’t even afford to feed myself or buy my medicine or pay my bills, let alone afford to take care of an infant who completely relies on me. i don’t even care if i have food or insulin at this point, please PLEASE help me take care of my niece. she’s going to need diapers and wipes very soon and she has food for now but will need more within the next two weeks? i’m not sure, i’m not equipped to deal with this but i’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that she is taken care of

PLEASE BOOST THIS.

commissions post p-yp-l c-sh-pp k-fi

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bluemerakis · 2 hours ago

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𝜗𝜚 ⋆⭒˚.⋆ ⌇FIRST BOT RELEASE ˚.⋆ ~

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𝚂𝙾𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙴𝚁 𝙱𝙾𝚈 X 𝙽𝙾𝙽-𝚂𝙼𝙾𝙺𝙴𝚁 .ᐟ 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

⌖ based on the fic ── ❝ memory foam ❞

──── synopsis ۶ৎ soldier boy’s taken it upon himself to try and teach you how to roll a blunt, but he’s never been renowned for having patience—and when you’re testing him in all the wrong ways, he’s prepared to teach you a lesson you simply can’t ignore.

to immerse yourself in this slutty universe, click here. don’t be shy—please also drop me a follow on c.ai if you haven’t already .ᐟ

reblogs are deeply appreciated .ᐟ 𝜗𝜚 (my fragile ego said so)

edit: *clears throat awkwardly* so it’s come to my attention that bitch ass c.ai is not showing the bot……….. and so im gonna wait and see if it resolves or try and make another one (which i RLLY don’t wanna do). sorry yall this was a major moodkiller 😔

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an — if any links aren’t working, please LMK!!! i know what an ass c.ai can be. n e ways. this is my first ever bot—making it was scary. shitting my pants scary. i never wanna do this again scary (but i will bc i’m masochistic like that). IF IT SUCKS ASS IM SORRY. GO EASY ON ME,,, I WILL GET BETTER AS I LEARN. but this took so fucking long that i just need to pass it to the next person like a game of hot potato. so i hope you all enjoy this little freak of my making and i am really sorry for what may go down in the dms. my brows waggled as i typed that. ok bye. i love u all sm. actually GAS ME UPPP for following through bc bot making was something i thought i’d NEVER get to AND I DID ITTTT. ok back to ghost mode.

tags — @gibson-g1rl @bohemianblasphemy @fallbhind @angelicjackles @deansbbyx @titsout4jackles @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @honeyryewhiskey @floralscented @deansbeer @deansbbyx @figthoughts @dulcescorderitas @whisperingdaze @st4rmarley @bakugotypecrashout @jaydensluv @chi-raz @youdontknowe @misatxox @lixiesbrowniess @ilovedeanwinchester4 @soldiersgirl

#mera’s bots ⋆˚. ⚙︎ ˎˊ #𝜗𝜚 ⋆⭒˚.⋆ ⌇soldier boy bots #bluemerakis’ fics ۶ৎ ⋆˚. ݁₊#soldier boy jensen ackles #soldier boy the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles bot #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you

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the-reader-insert-gazette · 1 day ago

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A Lifelong Contract - F!Reader x Zhongli

Featured Column - Genshin Impact (Geo Archon Quest)

Zhongli has spent lifetimes watching the world change, bound by duty and the weight of eternity. But when Reader speaks of growing old together, he realizes—for the first time in thousands of years—that he wants to walk the same path. To be bound, not by time, but by choice.

Editor's Note: This was made as a request from a peer who wished to remain anonymous. Thank you for this lovely prompt and giving me creative freedom with it, sorry it took me so long! I hope you enjoy!

Liyue Harbor was a city of rhythm. It moved with the tide, with the clatter of ships unloading at the docks, with the rise and fall of market voices offering their wares. It was a city that hummed with life, never truly stopping, only changing pace with the time of day. But in the quieter hours, when the crowds thinned and the lanterns cast long reflections on the water, it was also a city of patience. It was a city that waited.

[Name] had learned to keep pace with it, though not in the way most people did. She didn’t rush through the streets like merchants anxious to make their coin before nightfall, nor did she wander aimlessly like a traveler marveling at the sights. She found her own rhythm—steady, deliberate. She worked, she bartered, she built.

And somehow, Zhongli had become part of that rhythm.

It had started as most things did, small and insignificant. The kind of moments that go unnoticed if one isn't paying attention. He had been a customer in her shop, another face among the many who admired the delicate craftsmanship of her glasswork. Unlike the others, though, he had not simply glanced at her wares and made a purchase. He had lingered, tracing the smooth curve of a finished piece with careful fingers, his golden eyes studying the details as though committing them to memory.

“These are well-made,” he had said, turning a small glass dragon ornament in his hand. “Your work captures the element of Geo quite well—solid, enduring, yet not without elegance.”

She had tilted her head at him then, amused. “You always talk like that?”

His gaze had lifted to meet hers, and for the briefest moment, she thought she saw a flicker of surprise—like he hadn’t expected the question. Then, he smiled.

“I suppose I do.”

From that day on, he had returned.

At first, it had seemed purely out of interest in her craft. He would stop by, ask thoughtful questions about her techniques, listen attentively as she explained the process. He had an appreciation for craftsmanship, that much was clear—an understanding that went beyond polite admiration. He noticed details that others overlooked, traced patterns in the glass with a reverence that felt almost personal.

Then, somewhere along the way, the visits became less about her work and more about… her.

She had noticed it in the way he would linger even after their conversations about glassmaking had ended. In the way he always seemed to find her when she was taking a break outside, leaning against the wooden beams of her shop with a cup of tea in hand. In the way he would appear in the market when she was there, always at ease, always ready with some quiet, insightful comment about the world around them.

It was never grand. Never obvious.

It was simply him, existing along with her.

She had once told him that she never stayed in one place for too long, that she wasn’t the kind of person who set down roots. Liyue, though, had a way of making people stay.

It had started with the city itself, with its warmth, its beauty, the way it seemed to hold its history in every stone and street. Then it had become about the people—about the familiarity of the shopkeepers she bartered with, the regulars who stopped by her workshop, the feeling of belonging that had crept up on her when she wasn’t looking.

And then, at some point, it had become about him.

She wasn’t sure when, exactly.

Maybe it was one of those quiet afternoons when they had found themselves sitting at a tea house, the world slowing around them. Or maybe it was the way he always seemed to know what to say, his words careful, deliberate, never rushed. Maybe it was the way he listened—not just to the things she said, but to the things she didn’t.

Maybe it was the way he had laughed that one time—really laughed, not just the polite chuckle she had heard before. It had been after she told him about a particularly disastrous attempt to negotiate with a merchant in Fontaine, one that had ended with her leaving empty-handed but with an entire street’s worth of people cheering her on for standing her ground.

“You are… quite remarkable,” he had said, still smiling, and something about the way he had looked at her then had made her stomach flip in a way she hadn’t been prepared for.

She hadn’t known what to do with that feeling, so she had shoved it aside, pushed forward as she always did.

But it hadn’t gone away.

It had settled there, in the spaces between them, waiting.

And slowly, steadily, it had begun to grow.

She didn’t think much about the future. She never had. It had always seemed like something distant, something that would happen when it happened. But then the thought came to her one evening during a small festival, as they walked along the harbor, watching the lanterns flicker against the darkening sky.

She thought about what it would be like to still be here, years from now. To walk these same streets, to keep working, to keep building. To have him beside her, just as he was now.

And that thought didn’t unsettle her the way it once might have.

She glanced at him, watching the way the light caught in his golden eyes, the way he seemed at peace in the stillness of the evening.

“You know,” she mused, nudging him lightly, “for someone who always talks about the past, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about the future.”

He turned his gaze toward her, thoughtful. “No, I suppose you haven’t.”

She tilted her head. “Do you ever think about it?”

A long pause. Then, finally—

“…I do.”

Something about the way he said it made her heartbeat quicken.

She opened her mouth to say something more, but before she could, the first firework of the evening went off in the distance, its golden light bursting above the harbor. She turned her head to watch it, but not before catching a glimpse of him, watching her instead of the sky.

She didn’t ask why.

And he didn’t offer.

The firework faded, its golden light swallowed by the vast stretch of the evening sky, but the hush it left behind seemed to linger between them. [Name] didn’t break it, content to let the warmth of the festival surround them as they stood by the harbor, the voices of the city carrying on without them. For a while, neither of them spoke, and yet, nothing about the silence felt uneasy.

Zhongli’s gaze remained on her a moment longer before he, too, turned toward the horizon. His hands were still folded neatly behind his back, his expression as unreadable as ever, but something about his posture felt different—thoughtful in a way that went beyond his usual musings.

She had seen that look before.

It was the same one he wore when he traced his fingers over old inscriptions on stone tablets or when he spoke of Liyue’s past with the kind of familiarity that only came from lived experience. She had always chalked it up to the way his mind worked, how he seemed to carry an endless well of knowledge that even he couldn’t quite put into words sometimes.

But now, with the golden glow of lanterns flickering in his eyes, she wondered if it was something more.

She let the thought drift away.

Instead, she nudged him lightly with her shoulder. “Come on, let’s get something to drink. All this standing around is making me feel like I should be making a toast or something.”

He blinked, as if pulled from some distant thought, before letting out a quiet chuckle. “A toast, you say?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, already starting toward the tea house at the edge of the harbor. “It’s a festival, isn’t it? If you’re not eating or drinking, you’re doing it wrong.”

He followed, and though his smile was small, it lingered.

It became a habit, after that.

She wasn’t sure when exactly it started—maybe it had been that night, or maybe it had been happening all along without her noticing—but Zhongli became an unspoken fixture in her life. Their walks through the harbor grew longer, their conversations stretching into the night until the streets grew quiet. When she worked late into the evening, she’d sometimes find him waiting outside her shop, two cups of tea in hand, as though he had known without asking that she would need a break.

He never lingered past his welcome, never overstepped, and yet he was always there, as steady as the tides.

And she… she found herself gravitating toward him in turn.

It was never something they talked about, never something they put a name to, but it was there, woven into the spaces between their words, into the brush of hands reaching for the same teacup, into the way he always seemed to instinctively fall into step beside her, no matter where they were.

And yet, despite all of it, Zhongli remained careful.

[Name] noticed it in the way he would hesitate just a fraction of a second before touching her, the way he would sometimes look at her as though he were about to say something but would instead let the words settle unsaid. He was never cold—far from it—but there was a certain deliberateness to his every action, as though he was holding himself at the edge of something neither of them had spoken aloud.

She didn’t press.

Whatever this was—whatever it had become—she was content to let it be.

But Zhongli… Zhongli was thinking.

It was not something he could ignore, not when it sat at the forefront of his mind with each passing day.

He had lived for thousands of years, watched the world shift and change in ways mortals could never comprehend. He had stood where mountains had yet to rise, had spoken with those whose names had long since been swallowed by time. Mortality was something he understood, something he had always respected, but never something he had felt bound by.

But now, it was different.

Now, it was standing beside him, laughing at his old stories, pulling him through crowded streets with an easy familiarity, tucking her feet beneath her on the tea house bench and humming absentmindedly as he spoke.

Now, it had a name.

[Name] did not know the weight of the years that stretched behind him, did not know the things he had seen, the battles he had fought, the gods he had called his peers. To her, he was simply Zhongli, a man with an old soul and a tendency to over-explain things.

And for the first time in a long, long while, he found himself reluctant to correct that assumption.

But that did not change the truth.

She would live, and she would age.

And he would remain.

There would come a day—sooner than he wished, far sooner than he was prepared for—when time would begin to take its toll. He would watch as the years softened her movements, as the lines on her face grew deeper, as the vibrance of youth gave way to something slower, something more fragile.

And when that day came, when she looked at him with eyes that had grown old while his remained unchanged, what would he say?

Would he tell her then? Would he wait until she had begun to notice the difference, until she began to wonder why he never changed, why he never spoke of his past beyond vague recollections? Would he let her live her life never knowing?

Would it be a kindness? Or a cruelty?

He did not know.

All he knew was that for the first time, the passing of time felt like something looming, rather than something distant.

And for the first time, he was afraid of what it might take from him.

The tea house was quiet, tucked away from the bustling streets of Liyue Harbor, its warm lantern light flickering against dark wood. The scent of osmanthus lingered in the air, curling in delicate wisps from the cups between them.

[Name] swirled the tea in her cup absentmindedly, watching as Zhongli poured himself another, his movements practiced, careful. It had been a year since they met—since he first stepped into her workshop and admired her glasswork. She hadn’t thought much of it then, just another customer, another passerby, but now, sitting across from him in their quiet corner of the world, she knew better.

He had remembered today. She hadn’t. Not at first. It had only dawned on her when he had arrived at her shop earlier that evening, a bouquet of Glaze Lilies in hand. He hadn’t said anything about them outright—just placed them on her workbench with a soft, “I thought you might like these,” before suggesting tea.

She had smiled, taken them without questioning, but now, watching him across the table, she found herself turning the thought over.

"You really remembered the day we met?" she asked, breaking the comfortable quiet between them.

Zhongli glanced up from his tea. "Of course."

"Not exactly a holiday," she teased, smirking. "You keep track of the first time you meet everyone?"

His lips curved slightly. "Mostly, yes, but especially of those who leave a lasting impression."

Her teasing smile softened as she rested her chin on her palm, tilting her head as she studied him. "What else do you remember?"

Zhongli set his teacup down, fingers curling lightly around the rim. "You were skeptical of me," he said, voice tinged with amusement.

[Name] laughed. "Yeah, you acted like you’d never seen glass before. You held onto that dragon sculpture for so long I thought you were about to recite poetry to it."

He exhaled a quiet chuckle. "It was… an impressive piece of craftsmanship. It still is."

She smirked, but her voice was softer when she spoke again. "That was a good day."

Zhongli nodded. "Yes, it was."

The quiet settled between them again, but this time, it carried something heavier. [Name] let the weight of it sit for a moment before finally exhaling, setting her cup down and leaning forward.

"Alright, I think that's enough reminiscing," she said, her tone light but her gaze steady. "There's been something on my mind that I want to talk about."

Zhongli tilted his head slightly, waiting.

"You," she started, fingers tapping against the table, "are a hard man to read."

His lips twitched, almost amused. "Am I?"

"Don’t act so surprised." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "We’ve been—" she gestured vaguely between them, "—this for a while now, and yet, I still feel like you’re always holding something back."

His fingers stilled against his cup.

She wasn’t angry, nor was she demanding answers from him. Her voice was steady, as was her gaze. But there was a quiet honesty to her words, the kind that left no room for him to dance around the subject.

"[Name]," he started, his tone careful.

But she cut him off with a shake of her head. "Look, I’m not asking for some grand declaration, alright? I just—I think about the future. A lot more than I used to."

His brows furrowed slightly, but he said nothing.

She exhaled slowly. "I think about growing old. About the things I’ll do, the places I’ll see. And when I picture it, you’re always there." She let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. "You, sitting across from me at some teahouse just like this, telling me stories I’ve already heard a hundred times but still pretending they’re new just to humor you."

Zhongli’s chest tightened.

She continued, her voice growing softer. "I think about you being the last person I see when my time’s up. About hearing your voice at the end of it all and thinking, yeah, I did alright." She huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "That’s a bit much, isn’t it?"

He should have expected this from her. She had always been forward, never one to leave things unsaid. But still, the weight of her words pressed into him, settling into the deepest parts of his thoughts, into the place where he had been avoiding this very conversation.

She spoke of years. Decades. A life measured in time she would experience fully, while he—

He swallowed, his fingers tightening around his cup.

[Name] studied him, waiting, watching, and when he still didn’t speak, she sighed, leaning back. "I guess what I’m saying is, I want you there," she admitted. "For all of it. If I’m being honest, I just assumed you did too."

Zhongli exhaled quietly, setting his cup down with deliberate care.

Her words—simple, spoken without hesitation—settled in his mind like stone against earth. It was not just a passing thought for her, not just something she wished for in the abstract. She had already placed him in her future, had already imagined a life where he was beside her, watching time unfold together.

She had spoken of it so naturally, without fear, without hesitation.

And in that moment, he realized he wanted that future too.

For the first time, he allowed himself to truly picture it. A life measured not by eternity, but by the years they would share. Mornings spent with quiet conversation, the scent of tea in the air. Evenings filled with laughter, with arguments over things that did not matter, with the warmth of knowing someone was waiting for him at the end of the day.

It was something he had never let himself consider before.

Now, he did.

He wanted to grow old with her.

He wanted to be there.

And for the first time in thousands of years, he understood what had to be done to make that a reality.

Their walk home was quiet. The city had settled into its nighttime hush, the streets dappled in the glow of lanterns overhead. [Name] walked with her hands tucked behind her head, casting glances his way now and then, as if waiting for him to say something.

But he did not, not yet.

When they reached the edge of her street, she stopped, turning toward him with an easy smile. “See you tomorrow?”

Zhongli met her gaze, something deep and steady settling within him. “Yes,” he said, “tomorrow.”

She lingered a moment longer before nodding, stepping back toward her home. He watched until she was gone, until the door closed behind her, before finally allowing himself to exhale.

Standing beneath the lantern light, he let the weight of the evening settle fully upon him.

There was no uncertainty now. No hesitation.

For the first time in his long existence, he knew what he wanted.

He would not simply watch time pass this time. He would choose.

But to do that…

To truly be with her, to share her years, to grow old as she would—he had to let go.

He had to step away from the life he had always known.

Morax had ruled Liyue for thousands of years.

Zhongli, however, was ready to live.

The city of Liyue was alive with celebration, its streets overflowing with eager voices, the scent of incense thick in the air. Lanterns swayed gently overhead, their warm glow illuminating the vast crowds gathered before the Jade Chamber. The people waited with bated breath, eyes fixed skyward, anticipation woven into every hushed whisper.

The Rite of Descension was a ceremony of great reverence. It was tradition, the foundation upon which Liyue had been built—an affirmation that their god, their protector, still watched over them. And for the last time, Rex Lapis would appear before his people.

Zhongli, taking the form of a dragon, stood at the highest point of the chamber, gazing down at the city that had flourished under his hand. For thousands of years, he had guided them, shaped their fate with careful precision, carved their future from the stone of the land itself. But now, it was time to step away.

He had prepared for this.

He had spent centuries watching over them, ensuring they could stand on their own. He had forged contracts not just between rulers, but between the land and the people, so that even in his absence, Liyue would remain strong. They no longer needed a god to oversee every transaction, to pass judgment over every decision.

And yet, even as he told himself this, there was an ache deep within him, a weight that pressed against his very being.

To let go of divinity was one thing. To let go of the people he had watched over for millennia, the land he had shaped with his own hands—that was another entirely.

Still, the decision had been made.

There could be no hesitation.

The moment arrived. A final breath. A final glance at the world he had built.

And then, he fell.

The sensation was strange—weightless and yet crushing, as though time itself stretched between moments. He felt the air rush past him, the stunned cries of the people below, the way the city seemed to recoil in horror as their god—their unshakable, eternal protector—crashed into the earth, lifeless and unmoving.

The murmurs turned to cries. Chaos rippled outward like cracks in stone.

"The Geo Archon is dead!"

From the depths of his consciousness, from the fading remnants of the form he had left behind, Zhongli listened.

He listened as the voices of the people he had watched over for so long trembled with uncertainty.

He listened as fear gripped them, as leaders stepped forward to bring order to the moment, as merchants and elders alike whispered prayers for guidance.

He had known they would react this way. He had prepared them for it. And yet, for all the logic in his decision, something in him wavered.

He had always been an observer, but this was the first time he had truly felt what it meant to be left behind.

He had prepared Liyue for this. But had he prepared himself?

Days passed.

The city did not sleep in the wake of the Archon’s passing. Vigil after vigil was held, offerings stacked high at the shrines, speculation spreading like wildfire. The harbor was thick with rumor—who had done it, why, what this meant for the future. But no one truly knew what had happened.

And somewhere, beyond the reach of the mourning city, Zhongli sat alone.

He had wandered the outskirts of Liyue, away from the lanterns and the sorrow, away from the weight of the decision he had made. Once he found the opportunity, had left the city as a mortal, leaving his vessel behind, and yet the weight of divinity still clung to him on any thread it could.

For the first time in thousands of years, he had no direction. No contract to uphold. No war to wage.

Only silence.

And he did not know what to do with it.

It was [Name] who found him.

She had been searching for days, asking vendors, dock workers, anyone who might have seen him. He hadn’t been at the tea house. Hadn’t stopped by her shop. He had vanished—and in the wake of the god’s passing, that absence had begun to gnaw at her.

And then, just as the sun began to dip behind the mountains, she saw him.

He was standing at the edge of the harbor, facing the open sea, his posture still but not at ease.

Something in her chest tightened.

He looked tired. Not physically—there was no slump to his shoulders, no telltale exhaustion in his stance—but something deeper. A weariness that did not belong to a man who had simply had a long day.

She approached quietly, though she doubted he hadn’t already noticed her. Still, she didn’t say anything at first, simply stepping up beside him and letting the sea breeze wash over them both.

"You disappeared," she finally said, her voice softer than she intended.

A long pause. Then, quietly—

"I know."

[Name] studied him out of the corner of her eye. His face was unreadable, as it often was, but there was something about him that felt… distant.

She crossed her arms. "Alright. You wanna tell me what that was all about?"

He exhaled slowly. "It was… necessary."

She frowned. "Disappearing for days was necessary?"

He turned his gaze toward her then, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "I have spent much of my life fulfilling expectations, upholding traditions. And now, for the first time, I find myself free of them."

[Name] tilted her head, studying him. There was something in his voice that made her hesitate—something deep, something old.

"You say that like you don’t know what to do with it," she said carefully.

He huffed a quiet chuckle, but there was no humor in it. "Perhaps I don’t."

That alone made her chest tighten. Zhongli had always been so steady, so sure of himself. He always had an answer, always spoke as if he already knew the outcome of every path.

To hear him admit uncertainty now was… unsettling.

She nudged his arm lightly. "You could’ve at least told me you were gonna go off and contemplate life for three days. I wouldn’t have worried."

His lips quirked slightly. "That is a lie."

[Name] sighed dramatically. "Alright, fine, I would have worried. But you still should’ve told me."

Zhongli glanced back toward the water, his expression unreadable once more. "I will keep that in mind."

She studied him again, biting her lip before finally stepping closer. "Look, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours," she admitted, "but I know you. And I know that whatever this is, you’re probably making it more complicated than it needs to be."

Zhongli said nothing.

[Name] sighed, softer this time. "Just… don’t disappear again, alright? You’re allowed to figure things out without shutting everyone out."

Another long pause.

Then, finally, he nodded. "I understand."

She gave him one last look before stepping away, heading back toward the city. "Good. Now come on, I’m starving, and you owe me dinner for the stress."

For the first time in days, something in him settled.

He turned, following her without question.

The seasons passed, and life in Liyue carried on. The city adapted, as it always had. Though the loss of Rex Lapis had shaken its people, the foundation of Liyue remained strong. Trade continued, merchants prospered, and the world did not end without its god. The people learned to stand on their own, just as he had always intended.

And Zhongli continued living as one of them.

It had been a slow process at first. He had spent lifetimes watching from a distance, unbound by time, unshaken by change. But now, for the first time, he was a part of it. No longer just an observer, but a participant.

And [Name] was there, as she always was.

Their walks through the harbor continued to be part of their rhythm, their evening tea an unspoken tradition. When she worked late into the night, he would often be waiting outside her shop, two cups of tea in hand. When he found himself wandering the marketplace, he would hear her voice calling to him before he even had the chance to seek her out.

Nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed.

They never named what they were, never spoke about it outright.

But one evening, as the lanterns swayed overhead and the scent of the sea drifted through the air, Zhongli decided it was time to change that.

Their usual tea house was quieter than normal tonight, the hum of conversation a distant murmur beneath the rustling leaves. The summer breeze carried the scent of flowers and salt, the lantern light flickering against the polished table between them.

[Name] sat with one leg crossed over the other, absently swirling the tea in her cup, her other hand resting against her cheek as she watched the people pass by. She looked content. At ease in a way she hadn’t been when he had first met her.

Zhongli watched her, as he often did.

But tonight, for the first time, he was ready to speak.

“I have been thinking,” he began, setting his cup down with deliberate care.

[Name] let out a quiet chuckle. “Uh-Oh.”

He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “I have come to a conclusion.”

That caught her attention. She tilted her head slightly, her teasing demeanor softening just enough for curiosity to take its place.

Zhongli met her gaze, steady and sure. “I would like to grow old with you.”

Her breath hitched.

He continued, his voice even but warm. “You spoke of this once, of wanting me there when your final day comes. And at the time, I was hesitant, uncertain.” He shook his head slightly, as if at himself. “Not because I did not wish for it, but because I had spent so long resisting the idea of permanence, believing that it was not mine to have.”

[Name] didn’t speak. She didn’t even breathe.

Zhongli reached for his cup again, fingers brushing along the porcelain as he considered his next words. “But I no longer wish to stand at the edge of life and watch from afar. I no longer wish to count time while ignoring the days right before me.” He looked at her again, something deep and unwavering in his gaze.

“I wish to spend those days with you.”

[Name] exhaled, setting her tea down with a quiet clink. For once, she didn’t have a quip, a teasing remark to cut through the moment. She simply nodded. “Good,” she murmured. “I was starting to think you’d never say it.”

His lips quirked slightly, a faint, knowing smile. “You always did have patience.”

“Mm, debatable.” She smirked, leaning back. “But I like hearing you say it, so I’ll take it.”

Zhongli chuckled softly, then let the moment settle before adding, “There is something else I have been considering.”

[Name] raised a brow. “Oh? More big revelations?”

He exhaled, resting his hand against the table. “We should have names for one another.”

That made her pause. She blinked, tilting her head. “Names?”

“Titles,” he corrected. “A way to define what we are to each other.”

[Name] furrowed her brows slightly, searching his expression. “You really do make everything sound complicated.”

Zhongli merely inclined his head, waiting.

She let the silence sit for a moment, then hummed, tapping her fingers against the table. “Alright. If that’s the case, what do you want these titles to be?”

Zhongli studied her, his gaze unwavering.

“I believe we are bound,” he said simply, not answering her question.

[Name]'s breath caught, though she quickly masked it with a half-smile. “Bound, huh? That’s one way of saying we’re stuck with each other.”

“Let me finish, but first, let me clarity. We are not not stuck with each other,” he corrected. “We have chosen each other.”

Something flickered in her expression—something hesitant, something hopeful. She didn’t respond immediately, letting his words settle.

Zhongli allowed a small smile before continuing. “I have always valued certainty, and you once told me that if we were to move forward, it would require commitment.”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “I mean, yeah. I think that goes without saying.”

He inclined his head. “And as you know, I place great value in contracts.”

[Name] stared at him, blinking once. Then again.

A slow, dawning realization flickered across her face, her eyes widening just slightly.

Zhongli did not elaborate.

“…Hold on,” she said suddenly, sitting up straighter. “You—did you just—” She squinted at him. “Did you just propose to me by calling it a contract?”

He did not correct her.

[Name] gawked. “Oh my god—you totally did.”

Zhongli took a calm sip of his tea. “That is in my nature.”

She groaned, running a hand down her face before letting out a breathless laugh. “You absolute—”

She shook her head, exasperated but undeniably happy. And despite her teasing, despite her laughter, despite all of it, there was something warm and real settling between them.

Because he hadn’t corrected her.

Because, in his own strange way, he had meant it.

[Name] exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Alright, fine. You wanna call this a contract? Let’s call it a contract.” She leaned forward, her smirk curling at the edges. “Just know—if we’re doing this, I expect fair compensation.”

Zhongli lifted his brow. “And what would that entail?”

She reached for his hand across the table, lacing her fingers with his. “Every day. Every month. Every year ahead of us.” She squeezed his hand. “That’s the price.”

Zhongli’s grip tightened around hers, his golden eyes steady.

“Then consider it signed.”

And, for just a fleeting moment, he felt a quiet sense of relief—not just in the certainty of her words, not just in the weight of the choice they had made together, but in the fact that this was a contract he could uphold... without financial strain. No expensive fees, no costly tributes—just time, shared freely, something he could give in abundance until the end of their days.

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #reader x zhongli #rex lapis x reader #reader x rex lapis

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thebookbin · 2 days ago

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TimKon Fic Recs Part 1.

So I mentioned in a reply to @oneswordstyle that I had a ton of TimKon fic recs and I was about to spam them with a million comments in the replies, but then I figured it was probably easier to do in a post. So here it goes. It also got too long so I split it into 2 parts.

Scions by Winterlive (Explicit) 2008 - 63K words - Complete

Tim Wayne, adopted son of Gotham mogul and secret vigilante Bruce Wayne, shows every sign of being his father's true successor - by day, and by night. Tim sets his sights on a valuable Metropolis lab for merger with Wayne Biotech, and all that stands in his way is the city's own rising star: Conner Luthor.

Note: I really love when characters get to grow up. I think Tim was a really fun teen to read about, and this fic explores him as a young business man and true heir to the Wayne legacy. Kon is Luthor’s son and prodigy in this, and it makes them interesting foils.

⭐️ call me cute and feed me sugar by suzukiblu (Teen) 2024 - 80K words - Ongoing

Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy. This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.

Just a bank account, even.

Note: Kon is fresh outta the test tube in this one, and despite the author’s facetious use of the word “sugar daddy” this is actually really sweet. Make sure to drop a comment and let the author know we’re excited for the next chapter!

Baby, Talk Me Down (Take Me Out) by sage (Teen) 2020 - 90K words - hiatus

Tim has been working too hard lately, and everyone is starting to notice. Bruce takes it upon himself to help Tim do some self-care and ships Tim off to the Kent farm for the summer, forcing him to take a well-earned vacation. Naturally, things get out of hand.

Note: This fic is on hiatus, so make sure to stop by and leave an encouraging comment, so we can get the ending this sweet story deserves. Tim finally gets a minute to breathe and really process all that’s been happening. He also gets to experience small town life but also he’s Tim so he gets himself into trouble. I find in a lot of fics, Kon always feels out of place or like he doesn’t quite belong, but he’s very settled and has really taken the time to learn who he is in this one, which I appreciated very much.

The Classic Shenanigans of Two Idiot Boys in Love by MashpotatoeQueen (Teen) 2021 - 94K words - Complete

In which the papers get hold of the fact that Timothy Drake-Wayne is dating another boy, Kon is all chill, Tim is no chill at all, the internet is flipping out, and Dick Grayson is quite possibly the greatest big brother of all time.

Note: An attempt to explore the public side of their relationship, a story told in vignettes.

⭐️ Stars Over Gotham by madaliz (Explicit) 2025 - 170K words - ongoing

Kon is tasked by the Planet to write the defining piece on Gotham City (no pressure). As he learns more about the city's first family and its criminal underbelly, he finds himself increasingly entangled with the mob and the vigilantes he's supposed to keep away from.

A story about how Kon and Tim grapple with their family legacies, fall in love, and team up to foil a conspiracy to ruin Gotham's hard earned order.

Note: Adults! Self-assured Kon! A really interesting world in which the Bats and the JL are completely separate and do not mingle. They are aware of each other but maintain strict rules. When Kon goes to Gotham in his civilian identity as a reporter his and Tim’s game of cat and mouse quickly turns into a Romeo and Juliet situation and I AM OBSESSED. There’s only 3 chapters left and I love this fic so much I’m dreading saying goodbye to it. Make sure to leave a comment to let the author know!

I’m alone here, I think by unluckyloki (Teen) 2019 - 93K words - Complete

Superboy is fighting robots in San Francisco and remembers something that wasn't. There's a new priest in the Naxos temple appointed by Dream of the Endless. Kon is missing something. Tim is missing everything. One day Krypto practically drags Superboy to a remote island in Europe and there's a dark haired guy smiling at Kon like he knows him.

Maybe he does.

Note: I’m not usually a fan of fics set in the cartoon Young Justice world, but this one is really special. The prose is exquisite, and it feels like reading an epic poem. Even though it’s kind of in the blurb it took me way too long to realize it was a Sandman crossover, but honestly you don’t really have to know anything about that. I’m also not usually a fan of ‘Tim Drake has magic AUs’ but again, I can read anything if it’s executed well, and this writer executes basically everything perfectly.

I Want it That Way (1990s Tim/Kon) by WynterSky (Series) - 140K words - Complete

On a field trip, Robin has a close encounter with the newest super in Metropolis, only to discover the hard way that Superboy secretly works for Lex Luthor. They agree to work together on a plan to free Superboy from Luthor’s hold, but Robin isn’t sure how far he can trust him—and his developing feelings only make things more complicated.

Note: Series says “not complete” but the series currently has 3 fics, which are all complete. Set int he 90s, which I think is perfect for superheroes. A lot of the mythos collapses with modern day technology. Fresh outta the test tube Kon is sort of held hostage by Lex Luthor, and young Tim realizes this and decides to save him. The 90’s setting is what MAKES this series something truly special.

buy back the secrets by sundiscus (Teen) 2024 - 90K words - Ongoing

He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.”

Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy.

Note: 1 chapter left! Don’t forget to leave a comment so we can let the author know how much we’re anticipating the last chapter. This is another love-square AU, I can’t help myself. In this one, they’re both skewed a bit younger, but they deal with the more heavy side of vigilantism.

Trust fall by Ididloveyou_once (Mature) 2021 - 22K words - Complete

‘Drake?’

Tim felt like he was choking. His throat was tight. He couldn’t swallow.

‘Damian?’ He managed.

Damian was… here. At Kent Farm. Dressed in the too-big Batman pajamas that Dick had bought him last Christmas as a joke. And- And-

Tim was wearing Kon’s t-shirt and his hair was messy and his lips were swollen and- He wasn’t ready for this- He wasn’t- He couldn’t-

How had he been so stupid?

Or: Tim comes out to Damian and prepares for the entire family to know by morning. It just so happens that Damian can keep a secret. Multiple, actually.

Note: Not usually a fan of Damian/Jon but I think this fic handles it well and is more of a puppy-crush than anything. This is a coming-out fic that deals in all those tropes, and I think handles it really well. Again, I’m not usually into the more fanon interpretation of Tim as a timid, neglected, anxiety-ridden wet cat, but this fic explores some insecurities without, I feel, straying too far from his actual characterization.

⭐️ First Kontact by Chiyana

Two years after a disastrous first encounter with an alien entity called Necros, Captain Tim Drake is given his first mission back in the field. The simple six-month exploration mission babysitting a group of LexCorp researchers goes abruptly downhill upon the discovery of a missing colony ship, landing Tim directly back into the horror that took him out of the field in the first place and leading him to his second first encounter with an alien race. Usually he's all for over-achieving, but even he finds this to be a bit excessive.

At least this time one of the aliens is more interested in him alive than dead.

Note: This may be my favorite fic I’ve ever read, like ever. This is a sci-fi au, where Tim is a captain, and the Kryptonians are space refugees after the destruction of their planet. The WORLD BUILDING is exquisite. I absolutely love Bart in this world. Also, despite the new world building, the explanation for Kon’s ostracism from the House of El is fantastic. This is one of those stories that has dug into my brain. Although, please mind the tags, it can be intense.

What happens in Vegas by Ididloveyou_once (Mature) 2022 - 92K words - Complete

57 missed calls.

Bart_ahhh tagged you and one other in a post

The Gazette (4 hours ago)

Bruce Wayne’s youngest eligible bachelor is off the market: Timothy Drake-Wayne eloped in Vegas [EXCLUSIVE pictures]

63 unread messag-

Tim jolted upright. His eyes scanned over the headline again. Timothy Drake-Wayne eloped… Timothy Drake-Wayne what?

And with who?

Or: Tim and Conner accidentally get married in Vegas and decide to stay that way until they can get quietly divorced. It’s simple. Except the Bats are detectives and the press is relentless and oh, Tim is hopelessly in love with his best frie- husband?

Note: classic accidentally married first, then fall in love. Obsessed with this fic, and the author has indicated it’s supposed to be a series, so I canNOT wait to see where this AU goes. Honestly Cassie is the most relatable person in this fic, because she totally believes that these two idiots would do something so ridiculous but what she can’t believe is the audacity to get spontaneously married on her birthday.

#TimKon #fic rec #dc fic rec #Tim drake #kon el kent #superboy #Red Robin #my fic recs

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ariannaserissa · 3 days ago

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Rook gets rescued from the regret prison? 👀

Thank you for the ask! This is a missing scene from towards the end of Veilguard.

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING - This story covers some of the biggest spoilers in Veilguard's finale, so don't read it unless you've already played the whole game.

From the WIP Ask Game here!

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The world flashed white when Rook’s companions pulled her out of the regret prison. Hands grabbed at her arms and shoulders. A cacophony of voices overlapped so much that she couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.

But all that mattered was that she ended up in Davrin’s strong arms. She tucked her head underneath his and burrowed her face in his shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, the sound of his voice rumbling in his chest, “and I don’t think I’m ever going to let you go again.”

“You finally caught me,” she said, meaning it to be joke, but it came out as a tearful whisper. There were tears running down her cheeks – from saying goodbye, finally and truly, to Varric, from her fear that she would be stuck in Solas’ trap for eternity, and from relief that the people she loved had gotten her out.

She tilted her head up and met Davrin’s lips with her own, wrapping her arms around his neck. His lips were the softest thing about him. He kissed away her tears, then her closed eyes, then one corner of her mouth and the other until she couldn’t help but laugh.

When they showed no signs of stopping, Taash made a disgusted noise. “Ugh, get a room already!”

Davrin stopped long enough to say, “We’re in a room right now. Maybe the rest of you should leave.” He pressed his forehead against hers.

Rook shook her head at him, amused, and finally looked around at the others. Bellara was crying, too, and there were tears in Emmrich’s eyes. Lucanis looked even more exhausted than usual, but there was relief on his face as well. Taash was standing with their arms crossed, but they were unable to keep a small smile off of their face even though they were pretending to be offended by Rook’s and Davrin’s displays of affection.

But it was another blow to her heart when she looked for the rest of their team and made the sharp realization they were both gone, perhaps forever. Neve had been captured by Elgar’nan when the Tevinter mage had tried to unbind the blood magic keeping them from moving forward. And Harding…

Rook swallowed hard, remembering how the dwarf had been stabbed multiple times by Ghilan’nain. Rook had lost sight of Harding when she fell into some type of crevice. Was there any chance that her Stone sense had protected her? Had she been alive when she fell?

“Is Harding – ” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

Davrin’s arms tightened around her. Taash’s face fell and they looked down. Bellara covered her mouth with her hands as fresh tears gathered in her eyes. Emmrich shook his head sadly, and Lucanis clenched his hands into fists.

“She’s gone,” Davrin said. “Elgar’nan summoned this huge pillar of fire after Ghilan’nain died and you disappeared. The rest of us barely got out of there. We don’t know where Neve is, either, or if she’s still alive.”

Rook closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Taash, Lucanis.”

Neither of them responded. After a moment, Rook untangled herself from Davrin’s embrace and stood up. He got to his feet alongside her, but didn’t let her go entirely, keeping a tight grip on one hand. She appreciated the contact – it made her feel grounded and convinced her that this was real, not some twisted dream conjured by the regret prison to torment her.

Her time spent trapped by Solas was as hazy as a dream. She could not remember moving around the space but it felt like she had. Statues of Neve and Harding suddenly appeared before her, reminding her of her faults with sharp words.

Only the memory of Varric’s death had been clear. It was as if learning the truth after spending so long being deceived had lifted a fog from her mind.

They were in the room at the top of the Lighthouse, the space the Caretaker had called the Wolf’s Den when they had shown it to her. Rook guessed that her companions had needed a clear space to open the rift into the Fade and pull her out. She had observed the mages in the Veil Jumpers cast spells enough to get an idea of how complicated such an undertaking would be.

“What do we know?” she asked. “Where is Elgar’nan now?”

Emmrich answered her. “After we killed Ghilan’nain on Tearstone Island, Elgar’nan went to Minrathous. He claimed control of the city easily because the Venatori already had a hold there after their coup. We’ve had reports that Solas is there as well, and helping fight against Elgar’nan’s forces. But things are at a bit of a stalemate at the moment. We have time to rest before we need to join the resistance there.”

“No, we can’t wait. We have to get there now.”

“Rook,” Bellara began, then stopped, biting her lip. “Please. We need to rest. You need to rest. You’ve been gone for weeks.”

Rook went still. “Weeks?” She looked at Davrin, whose eyes were shadowed. “It felt like moments to me. Hours, at the most.”

“Time fluctuates wildly in the Fade,” Emmrich said. “It is not possible to predict its pattern. It might pass as it did for you, weeks going by in less than a day, or it might do the opposite, stretching the time for those within when in reality much less than they thought has gone by. Here at the Lighthouse and in the Crossroads, it is more reliable. My hypothesis is that Solas or another ancient mage from his time stabilized these places temporally when they were first created.”

Rook barely listened to Emmrich, still reeling from learning how much time she had lost. She leaned against Davrin, a steady bulwark by her side. He let go of her hand so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. She was grateful for the strength he gave her.

“That’s all the more reason to get moving,” she said. “Elgar’nan’s already wreaking havoc. How much more damage can he do while we waste even more time here?”

“Rook, listen to us,” Davrin said. “We’ve been working nonstop trying to find you and getting everything else in order. We need time to recover and prepare. Now that you’re back, we’ll reach out to our allies and have their leaders come here to make a plan of attack. We have to wait for them to get here and gather their own people. There’s no point in rushing off before we’re all ready.”

Rook sighed and relented. With each moment that passed, she felt fatigue weighing on her more and more heavily. That was another sign that she’d been gone for longer than it had felt. She had been conscious in some form for weeks and that was catching up to her now.

She also took a moment to look closely at the others. All of the them looked exhausted and drained. There were dark circles under Emmrich’s eyes. Bellara’s hair was messier than Rook had ever seen it and she didn’t seem to care. It would not surprise her if all of them had gotten almost as little rest as she had while they’d worked tirelessly to rescue her. That convinced her more than her own exhaustion.

“Fine. We’ll rest up so that we’re ready. We’ve taken down one god already. We have one more to go. And the next time we face him, he won’t survive the encounter.”

#dragon age fanfiction #datv spoilers #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #davrin x rook #davrook

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luckymilkshakerebel · 7 hours ago

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REJECTION

Genre: angst, sulking, heartbreak, comfort

Cast: seungmin x you

It was another day of disappointment. You had spent hours in the kitchen, carefully following the recipe your mother-in-law had shared, your hands moving with practiced precision. The smell of spicy kimchi stew filled the room, making your mouth water in anticipation. You couldn’t wait to see Seungmin’s face light up when he tasted it. After all, it was for him—you wanted to impress him, to show him you could be a part of his world, learning to cook his food, and blending your cultures together.

But when he walked in, there was the familiar line, the one that stung each time he said it: "I’m on a diet."

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “I know,” you said quietly. He’d been saying it for days now. Days where you’d made his favorite dishes, only to be met with rejection. It hurt. Deep down, you felt like your efforts didn’t matter. The meals you prepared with love and care seemed meaningless when he refused them so easily.

The next day, you tried again. A simple dish of bulgogi, sweet and savory, the scent tempting. You placed it in front of him, your heart hoping for even a bite, but the words came again. “I’m on a diet.” His eyes flickered with guilt, but he never wavered.

This cycle went on for days—your enthusiasm dwindling, your hope fading. You tried to tell yourself that it was just a phase, that he was just being careful with his diet, but each rejection stung. It felt like more than food—it felt like your love, your effort, was going unnoticed. And you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was pushing you away in small ways, not realizing how deep the cut was.

One evening, feeling utterly defeated, you confided in Seungmin’s mother. “I don’t want to learn how to cook anymore,” you whispered, eyes downcast. “I’m tired. Seungmin doesn’t eat my food, so why should I keep trying?”

Her silence was heavy, but she understood. She knew her son, and she knew how hard it could be for him to balance his diet with his love for food. But you couldn’t ignore the ache in your chest—the yearning for his validation, for him to see your effort, for him to taste your love.

That night, after another failed attempt, you found yourself lying in bed, the kitchen cold and unused. You had given up. You were done. You couldn’t keep learning how to cook for someone who didn’t appreciate it, who didn’t even try.

But then, the door creaked open. Seungmin’s voice broke through the silence. “Y/N , Where are you?” he asked, sounding concerned.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you felt the bed dip as he sat beside you, his arms wrapping around you gently, pulling you into his chest.

“Did you eat yet?” he asked softly. His voice was tender, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

You shook your head. “No... I didn’t cook. It’s a waste to cook for just one person.”

He pulled back slightly, his hands cupping your face, his eyes searching yours. “Why didn’t you cook?” His voice was laced with worry, but there was something else there too—something more personal.

“I’m done learning,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I’ve been trying for so long, but you always refuse to eat my food. Why should I keep doing it? Why should I keep trying when it feels like it doesn’t matter?”

Seungmin’s face fell, and for a moment, you saw guilt and regret flash across his features. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t realize it was affecting you like this. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You could feel his hand trembling slightly as it rested on your cheek. He had no idea how much his words, his actions, had hurt you. He didn’t know how much it stung to feel like your love was invisible, like you were invisible.

“I’ll eat your food next time,” he promised, his voice filled with determination. “I’ll eat whatever you make, even if it’s just for me.”

But you didn’t know if that would ever be enough. The damage had been done. You had learned that sometimes, no matter how hard you tried, some things just weren’t meant to be. And the empty kitchen, the unappreciated dishes, was a reminder of that pain.

The silence hung heavy in the air as Seungmin’s words lingered between you, but they didn’t erase the weight you felt in your heart. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that everything would get better, that the hurt would fade, but the emptiness was still there, gnawing at you.

Seungmin’s hands gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your skin, as if he were trying to physically soothe the pain that was deep inside you. “I didn’t know,” he whispered again, his voice small. “I never realized how much my refusal was hurting you.”

But it didn’t matter anymore, did it? His apology, no matter how sincere, couldn’t undo the days of feeling invisible, of feeling like your love wasn’t enough.

“I just wanted to make you proud,” you said, your voice barely audible. The words slipped out before you could stop them. “I wanted to show you that I care… that I’m learning, that I’m trying… But every time you say ‘I’m on a diet,’ it feels like everything I’m doing is pointless.”

Seungmin’s expression softened, his eyes filled with regret as he leaned closer to you. He gently kissed your forehead, his lips warm and comforting. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t answer. What was there to say? The words felt like they would break something inside of you if you spoke them aloud. It wasn’t just about food anymore; it was about all the small ways you felt unseen, unheard. It was about the feeling that no matter what you did, it wouldn’t be enough to make him notice.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, as though trying to erase the distance that had grown between you. “I’ll change,” he murmured, his breath soft against your hair. “I promise I’ll eat whatever you cook. I’ll appreciate it. You mean everything to me.”

You let him hold you, but the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes were not just from the hurt you had been carrying. They were from the uncertainty—uncertainty that things might change, but the fear that they wouldn’t. The fear that your efforts would never truly be valued, no matter how hard you tried.

“I need more than just words,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I need you to see me. I need you to show me that you care, not just by eating my food, but by understanding that I’m trying, too.”

Seungmin’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing the top of your head as he nodded. “I will. I’ll show you. I’ll make it right. I’ll prove to you that you’re worth it, that I see you.”

But even as his words comforted you, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered doubts. Would he really change? Would he realize the impact his actions had on you, or would you always feel like you were giving more than you received?

You didn’t have the answers, and maybe you never would. But in that moment, as Seungmin held you close, you let yourself believe, just for a little while longer, that things might get better. You let yourself believe that this time, he really would notice you—not just as his partner, but as the person you were, with your own dreams, your own efforts, and your own love to give.

You stayed in Seungmin’s embrace, but the heaviness in your heart didn’t fully fade. You had a lot to say, and it had been building up for so long. You pulled away slightly, your hands still resting on his chest, but your gaze turned away from him. The frustration was bubbling up inside you, and you couldn’t keep it bottled any longer.

“Seungmin…” you started, your voice quieter now, but still sharp with emotion. “Why do you need to diet? You’re already so skinny. Every time I see you dance, your chest is practically just bones. I hate seeing you like that. It’s… it’s like you’re not taking care of yourself, and I don’t understand why you keep pushing yourself to go further.”

Seungmin looked at you, his eyes wide, a bit taken aback by the sudden change in tone. He opened his mouth to respond, but you weren’t done yet. You needed him to understand how deeply this was bothering you, how it was affecting not just your relationship, but your feelings about him.

“You’re already perfect to me, Seungmin. I don’t care about your body like that. I care about you. But every time you say ‘I’m on a diet,’ or turn down food, it feels like I’m not enough for you, that nothing is ever enough,” you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of the words you were finally letting out.

He opened his mouth again, but you raised a hand to stop him. “No, don’t apologize. I need you to listen. You’re already too thin. And I get it—I know it’s part of your job, part of being in Stray Kids, but it hurts me to see you doing this to yourself. It hurts me to see you so obsessed with your body, when what I care about is how healthy and happy you are. Why do you feel like you need to be even skinnier?”

Seungmin’s face fell, and he looked down at his hands. You could tell he wasn’t used to hearing this from you—he wasn’t used to seeing you so vulnerable, so open about your frustrations. He knew you cared, but he didn’t fully realize how much it hurt you.

“I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, his voice soft. “It’s just... I feel pressure, you know? From the fans, from everything around me. To look a certain way, to fit a certain image. I didn’t think it would affect you like this.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, shaking your head. “That’s exactly it, Seungmin. You don’t need to look a certain way for anyone but yourself. You’re already perfect the way you are, and I don’t care about your body being a certain size. I care about you, Seungmin. I care about your health, your happiness, and I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself.”

You swallowed hard, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill over. “I want you to be strong for yourself, not for anyone else. I want you to feel good about who you are. I want to be able to cook for you and see you enjoy it. I don’t want to keep feeling like my love isn’t enough when I see you turning down food like it’s something you have to earn.”

Seungmin’s expression softened, and he gently took your hands in his, his voice full of sincerity. “I’m sorry,” he said again, this time with a deeper understanding. “I didn’t know how much this was affecting you. I promise, I’ll think more about it. I’ll try to take care of myself—not just for others, but for us. I don’t want to make you feel like you’re not enough. You’re more than enough for me.”

But even as he said the words, you couldn’t shake the lingering ache. You didn’t know if he would truly change or if this was just another promise that would fade away with time. But for now, all you wanted was for him to truly understand—understand that you cared about him far more than any image, far more than any number on a scale. And that was something you hoped he would eventually see for himself.

The night was long, filled with the weight of the conversation, but eventually, exhaustion had settled in. After all the emotions, the frustration, and the heart-to-heart, you had both fallen into a quiet sleep. Seungmin’s arms were around you, holding you close, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go after everything you had just shared. It was a small comfort, but it was something.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, softly waking you from your slumber. You blinked a few times, feeling the warmth of Seungmin’s body beside you. The space between you was still close, but this time, it felt different—calmer, like maybe there was some hope after all.

Suddenly, you felt his breath against your ear as he shifted beside you, his voice groggy but still carrying the familiar lilt. “Hey,” he said, nudging you lightly. “I’m hungry.”

You groaned softly, rubbing your eyes. The first thought that hit you was how surreal it felt—just last night, you had been at the edge of your patience, but now, here you were, waking up with him, and he was hungry. For food, not for anything else.

“Already?” you mumbled, your voice still thick with sleep. You could hear the playful hint in his tone, despite the serious conversation from the night before. He was always so full of energy, even in the mornings.

“Yeah,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “I’ve been thinking about it all night... but mostly about your cooking,” he added, sounding a little sheepish, though the playful glint in his eyes was unmistakable. “You’re going to make me something, right?”

You turned to face him, your mind still swimming with the emotions of the previous evening. There was a quiet moment as you stared at him, his eyes soft with affection, but also something else—something that told you he had truly heard you. He wasn’t just asking for food now; it felt like he was asking for your trust, your patience, and your love again.

You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips despite everything. “You sure you’re hungry after all that talk about diets?” you teased lightly, trying to keep the mood light.

Seungmin chuckled, but then his face became serious. “I’m sorry… I don’t want to disappoint you. I know I’ve been distant with you and food, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking you for granted. I just want to eat what you make, no excuses. I’ll take care of myself, I promise.”

Your heart softened as you looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. For a moment, everything else faded. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice steady. “I’ll make something. But no more excuses, alright?”

He grinned widely, his eyes lighting up. “Deal!” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before pulling away and sitting up, his energy returning with the promise of food. “I’m so ready for whatever you’ve got.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how his appetite always managed to bring a sense of normalcy back into things. As you sat up too, you glanced at him, realizing that maybe, just maybe, things were slowly starting to fall into place.

“I’ll make you something good,” you said, already thinking about what you could cook. “You better eat it all.”

Seungmin gave you a playful wink. “I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.” He lay back on the bed for a moment, his gaze soft as he looked at you, before sitting up again. “And I’ll eat all of it. No more turning things down.”

With that, you both got up, your morning starting anew, and for the first time in a while, you felt a little lighter. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but it was progress. And that, in itself, was enough.

Want to read more you can go to my MASTERLIST

#skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #skz angst #seungmin angst #seungmin x reader #seungmin #kim seungmin angst #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you

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pigeonclaw · 2 days ago

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All done! I tried not to use anybody more than once but some repeats were just unavoidable. If I reread the entire series again right now, I'm sure some of these would change, but here's who I thought of.

My reasons and a blank template under the cut.

Berryheart & Sunbeam: I was so stressed reading about them lol. But I appreciated how complex their relationship was, especially on Sunbeam's side. Berryheart loved her kids, and she hurt her kids quite badly because she thought she was doing the right thing. And that was a tough thing for Sunbeam to cope with. It's not a positive relationship but it is compelling, and I enjoyed that!

The Three: This is more for Lionblaze and Jayfeather (mainly since we've had more time with the two of them) but it would be wrong to leave Hollyleaf out! Most siblings in this series have some sort of strife between them, and these three have had their moments too, but they cared deeply about each other.

Rootspring & Shadowsight: I liked their friendship in TBC. Particularly I liked how insecure they both were, but how they admired each other for the very traits they were insecure about. It was sweet. Perhaps they should kiss.

Tree & Rootspring: This is largely just because Tree is the most supportive dad ever. I like that he stuck by Rootspring and helped him get Bramblestar's message out while still keeping his secret -- even though it was really inconvenient, his son's feelings mattered to him. I like that as soon as trouble came, he was ready to pack up and get his family out of the Clans, but he listened to their wishes and stayed and supported them.

Nightheart & Frostdawn: Their friendship was very sweet in Thunder. I love how Nightheart supported Frostpaw when she was at her lowest point, and how Frostpaw learned to rely on him, which helped her start trusting others again.

Brightheart & Cloudtail: A classic old pairing. I guess I'm a sucker for stories of one character being terribly wounded and at the worst point in their life and then another character supporting them through it and them bonding. Whether that's platonic (like Nightheart & Frostdawn) or romantic like Brightheart & Cloudtail, I'm a fan.

Tawnypelt & Birchfeather: I probably don't need to explain this one since everybody's talking about it. But Tawnypelt's support of Birchfeather when his own parents refuse to acknowledge him is sweet.

Fireheart & Cinderpaw: It's been a while since I last read the first arc, but I remember enjoying these two as both mentor and apprentice and as friends. Nothing too deep here, they were just fun to read about.

Sunbeam & Lightleap: It's a shame their friendship broke down so early into ASC. I enjoy a ship between someone who's calm and sensible and someone who would commit arson on a dare. They could balance each other out, or they could stress each other out. Either way would be interesting to read about!

Please talk to me about your favorite relationships of various types as well! I always enjoy hearing what kinds of characters, tropes, etc appeal to other people.

Here's the blank template!

#lmao at the two cats that got reused #who else up being gay and having complicated relationships with your parents #i almost swapped shadowroot out for barleyraven so i wouldnt have a repeat and i do love barleyraven #ravenpaw's farewell gets me choked up every time #but i missed shadowroot and wanted to draw them so here we are lol #i need to reread tbc. it might be my favorite arc?? might add them to my collection #i think the covers are mmmmm not good which makes them less fun to collect but i do want to read them a lot so i kinda want to own them #my art #augh gosh i didnt think about having to tag everyone this is madness #berryheart #sunbeam #lionblaze #jayfeather #hollyleaf #rootspring #shadowsight #tree #nightheart #frostdawn #brightheart #cloudtail #tawnypelt #birchfeather #firestar #cinderpelt #lightleap #i missed drawing some of these cats...

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koremakaria · 3 days ago

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Nan Xu Yue / Tian Ming Shu Character Analysis and Appreciation Post

OMG! The characters are so complex and Wang Duo did such an amazing job bringing them to life. I adore him! I really do!

I've only seen him in Yin Yang Master: Dream of Eternity but he also killed that role like bro, this guy is so good at exuding Sad Boi Energy. Nothing can make me hate you! Nothing!

So he and MXL/Pearl go way back. They were created by the Supreme God as Immortal Weapons. An Eternity with no emotion, no attachment, the only purpose was to serve their Master. These two were different from the very start. Tian Ming was like 'cool, I can deal with being an emotionless artifact' while Pearl was like 'ummm, excuse me, but do you know what love is?' And if you were curious, Tian Ming was like 'no, but like why? Is it something important or something?' Yeah. Haha. Clueless didn't even begin to cover this.

Because he is FATE, he viewed life from a deterministic pov. Like there is no free will because the book of fate determines the outcome so even if you rebel, that very act of rebellion was part of your fate. Basically, this dude is the very definition of 'it is what it is' and so we have to view his decisions from this perspective. I love that xianxia dramas are always asking about love. Like what is love? What does it mean to be in love? And the most important question is always 'Is love worth the pain that comes with it?'

As Nan Xu Yue, he thought that to love meant that he had to eliminate threats to MXL's life including killing the one that she loves. After all, it's all for her own good. Bro was really like 'I'm doing this for you! It's ALL for YOU!' The only problem was that he never asked MXL what she wanted. This love was the epitome of selfish love. It was possessive love. Which ultimately killed her and then he killed himself. In this incarnation, he knew that he loved MXL but didn't know how to properly address his feeling.

As Tian Ming, before the cycle of reincarnations, I don't think he knew that he loved Pearl. I don't think he even knew what love was. All he knew from his long existence was that he didn't want to lose his companion. The Supreme God wanted to destroy the human realm and so he altered this fate by imprisoning Zhaoming to avoid possession. Maybe he did so to prevent his own death or Maybe he did so because he knew Pearl wouldn't want the human realm to be gone. It didn't really matter why, this was his first major act of 'free will' or at least it's free will in the sense that he went against the wishes of his Master.

Another act of free will was when he took the punishment from Pearl when he knew it would kill her. But again, this was done without asking Pearl what she wanted. His purpose was keep her alive hoping that she'd return home with him one day and that everything would return to how they were. 'We can be one happy family again!' So again, selfish love.

Then when NXY regained his memory as Tian Ming, we get a different kind of awareness. I think he finally figured out what it meant to love. In a selfless way.

Instead of keeping secrets, Tian Ming learned to communicate. And most importantly, he learned to accept death and free will. Since the first incarnation, Tian Ming has been obsessed with keeping Pearl alive so that she'd be with him. Even if that meant she hated him. Even when she loved another man. Even when she was willing to die for another man. That didn't matter to Tian Ming as long as they get to live. She didn't have to love him, she just needed to stay alive. That all changed in the last arc when he finally let go of Pearl/MXL. He understood that Pearl/MXL had the right to make her own decisons. That not everything was up to him (FATE) to decide and that he, too, had free will. Ultimately, he exercised this free will by dying so that her vision would come true. [Me sobbing 😭]

This convo basically foreshadowed his own fate. He didn't understand why Pearl chose to love Zhaoming knowing that she will die in her first incarnation. Then in his last incarnation, he finally got it. He really did. My Super Sad Boi.

Tian Ming and Nan Xu Yue are such interesting characters and I love them. They are deeply flawed and so so so human.

#the blossoming love #xianxia drama #cdrama i love #nan xuyue #Tian Ming #the most important question is What is Love?#wang duo

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haitianempress · 3 days ago

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Thank you for the tag @reneedenoailles 💕

These are my favorite ongoing stories:

Honorable mentions: Shakespeare's Code, The Parallel Universes Bureau, & Garden of Eden

a) Song of the Crimson Nile - I remember when I first played RC back in 2023, I was hoping for an ancient Egyptian story. And boom, SOCTN answered my prayers! The plot grabbed me from the very beginning, and don’t even get me started on the soundtrack it’s amazing! I also love the clothing choices for the MC, even though they’re only realistic sometimes, lol. Livius and Ramesses are my babes, and with every update, I get excited to see what’s next. That said, I feel like the most recent episodes are just filler, which is disappointing since I saw the schedule and only one episode is being released smh. But I love the MC, and trust me, I will take any chance to get revenge and make sure she gets what she deserves!

b) Kali Flame of Samsara - I really loved KCOD, and it bothered me that so many people wanted to expand the universe when it was already great as it was. Not gonna lie, the first few episodes were dry, and I initially dropped it, but I gave it another chance and I’m glad I did. It’s now one of my top stories on the app, thanks to its diverse cultural background, amazing soundtrack, and beautiful clothing choices. As of now, Doran and Ram are the only reasons I’m still reading, honestly.

c) Chasing You 2 - I haven’t even finished reading CY, but I jumped straight to CY2 because the little info I saw hooked me ngl. This story is honestly hilarious, and I find myself laughing out loud at the dialogues all the time. I love that Alexander isn’t the main character in this one, giving us a chance to learn more about the other characters. Ezra is my main LI, and I love him idc, he’s one of the most problematic red-flag LIs I’ve ever liked. He makes me feel so many complicated emotions because the MC is trying to solve a mystery, and he and his father are directly involved in it. Also, the song that plays at the end of each episode is chef’s kiss I literally leave it on just to jam to it, lol. I’m super excited for the next update, and this story has officially made it into my top five favorite ongoing stories!

d) Dracula a Love Story - This story instantly grabbed my attention with its historical setting and time travel aspect. Most of the LIs are gorgeous and have such interesting backstories that pull you in. I loved learning about Turkish culture through this story it even inspired me to do my own research and start watching a show about an Ottoman queen. However, it’s been going on for too long, and I’m just waiting for the final episodes to drop because the anticipation of finding out what happened to Lale is too much! Also, this is yet another story with an amazing soundtrack!

e) Astrea's Broken Heart - If there are 100 fans of this story, I’m one of them. If there are 10, I’m one of them. If there are none, I’m dead. THIS STORY IS SO GOOD. I don’t care that it’s tied to HS I love HS, and I think there’s still so much left to explore in that universe, and ABH does exactly that. For me, ABH is a top-tier story because there’s no clear bias toward any LI. They all have their own issues, which can either strengthen or weaken their relationship with the MC. I also love how Audrey’s background affects us no matter which path we take. Seeing her react to the supernatural felt so realistic, and honestly, I love her she’s such a horny mess, lmao.

f) Witch: Time Catcher - An excellent story that truly lets our choices matter. The differences between The Others and the Church loyalty paths are stark and incredibly well-written. This story is full of shocking twists not just for the characters but for me as a reader, because I never saw them coming. I also appreciate how the author treats the characters like her own children when handling certain intimate topics. I think that’s important, especially when it comes to specific characters or MCs. And let’s not forget the CGs in this story are top-tier, and Nova kicks ass all the time! I love that!

g) Love, Sin, & Evil - MY SHAYLA!! THIS IS MY BABY RIGHT HERE! I keep my pfp like this for a reason, lol. I’m sad there’s still no update, but it’s fine. If a story has vampires and captures my attention, I’m reading it no question. And this book did exactly that, blending humor in perfectly. Those puzzles pissed me off, but at least I know how to do them now, lol. Another story where our choices truly matter, with multiple routes depending on who you choose as your LI, which tasks you complete, or who you decide to save. I also love that the book doesn’t take itself too seriously it makes the experience even more fun. And can we talk about how stunning the Wolf Vampire is? One of the most gorgeous LIs I’ve ever seen. The Cat Vampire too!

h) Soulless - In my opinion, this story deserves the attention. A lot of people didn’t take this story seriously because of the sexual themes and the focus on prostitution/pimping, but it’s so much more than that. Since the story is about a succubus, sex is naturally a part of it, but I love that it gives us control over what the MC will and won’t allow. To this day, Threxio/a betraying us remains one of the best plot twists in RC it happened at such a vulnerable moment for the MC, making it even more impactful. I also love that there isn’t much fanservice, allowing the author to fully explore their vision without limitations. This story has everything humor, wit, sadness, anger, happiness, and more. I honestly wouldn’t mind if they expanded on it further. And Vyxaria? She’s one of the funniest and most relatable MCs ever like; she IS ME!

i) And the Haze Will Take Us - This story should be WAY more popular, but controversy plagued it from the moment it was released smh. Every LI is gorgeous, so eye candy is definitely not a problem. The bond between the sisters, whether alive or not, is incredibly strong, and I can’t wait to see how it deepens even more. All the MCs are stunning, the clothing choices are great, and I love the hair options. Dragan is my main LI, but his route has lost its magic because of his attitude, and his apology was seriously weak. Hopefully, the new season brings something fresh for him. As for Novak I’M ON HIM! He’s so FINE! He’s completely caught my attention, and I’m ready to go against the whole village for him. I’m also on the Haze path doing his route, so things are about to get interesting!

Tagging: @gr8fulkiki @salisburyliam @fxnharellll @malbontevicky @malbontesmrs @annebardot-sl and anybody else who wants to participate <3

Bringing this back !

Here's a fun little thing I'm bringing back for the fandom - reblog this (or make ur own post) with your favorite ONGOING books, if you want you can add reasons as to why they're your favorites, and tag people who you think would like to participate ! 😁

reasoning & tagging below the cut to not clog the post ✨

honorable mentions: astrea's broken heart, the missing, w time catcher, kali: flame of samsara.

tagging: @theodoravery @suckitphaneuf @lanesrequiem @haitianempress @ratanslily @jillfvs @a-cloud-for-dreams @taemcains @webanglikethat @hexesandroses @renninflight @rosesandpearlss and anyone else who would like to participate ! <3

a) Soulless - where do I start ? Amazing. Showstoping. Spectacular. Totally unique, completely not ever been done before. I LOVE every single love interest, I love Vyxaria as an MC no matter the path, I looove how neatly the plot all ties together - it's just all amazing. Best ongoing story I think.

b) Shakespeare's Code - despite the fact it's been 6 episodes, this story is bumped to the TOP of my favorites. It's just amazing, Amabelle is extremely entertaining as an MC, the love interests all have different plotlines, and I love how many stats & combinations you can have !

c) 7 Brothers - of course, it wouldn't be fair to talk about my favorites without talking about this story I've been defending tooth & nail since forever. A misunderstood work of art, I really like the MC, Jaynie's so relatable & an all-around character, I absolutely cherish her. Of course, there's the love interests & Langley's amazing writing strikes again. It's always the first story I play every update <3

d) Love, Sin & Evil - another underrated work of art, my favorite thing about this story is the mechanics of saving the characters ! Super innovative, I love it. I also think Mina's a super entertaining MC and the fashion is just top notch, though on the more expensive side 👌 Eagerly waiting for the next update & the upcoming finale.

e) Heaven's Secret: Requiem - unfortunately, despite all its problems, specifically romance-wise, I still really like this story, at least for the plot of it. I'm still invested in what the fuck is the deal with Lane, and how it's all going to end.

f) And The Haze Will Take Us - Suuuuper invested to see where Alice is taking this story. I was kind of torn on season 1 but I'm actually really focused on season 2 to see where this story and this haze will be taking us ! Looking forward to the next update.

#tag games #this was fun feel free to tag me in future ones lol

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