#anyway cycling back to tag number one

[runningatypufullspeed]

Worlds most tragic victim to male pattern baldness

[hoziersong]

do you mind if i ramble in the tags about my weird relationship with making art in fandom for a second

[half-oz-eddie]

i'll believe you when you're sober

E Rating Tags: Drunk Evan "Buck" Buckley, Fix-It, Frottage, Reconciliation, Dubious Consent

Every night feels quiet and monotonous. No one to yap his ear off with random trivia. No one to insist on massaging his scalp in the shower after a long shift. No Evan.

It's all Tommy's fault, he knows, but he constantly tells himself that it was for the best. It was the right thing. Even if every sunset is a vicious cycle of endless darkness. He's not sleeping as well without the goodnight kiss…and another…and another…and one more. He's not eating as well with out the "is this sauce too spicy?" "no it's perfect" pasta. Tommy's just not the same anymore.

At 10:40, he dragged himself to bed and tried to sleep on what used to be Evan's side. All it does is make him miss him more. Dream about him more. Toss and turn without him more.

He stared at the ceiling, ready for another sleepless night.

He slowly turned his head toward the night table, following the sound of his phone vibrating.

The number on the screen was unfamiliar, but at 11 PM, it had to be a mistake, or an emergency.

He answered either way.

"Hello?"

"Hey, yeah…are you Tommy?" A man on the other end of the phone asked.

"Yes? Who's calling?"

"My name is Greg, I'm a bartender at Bigg's Bar. I've got a guy, Buck, at the bar who's been disturbing the patrons and crying over you. He's had too much to drink so I suggested giving you a call. Can you come pick him up?"

"…Buck? Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he almost got into a fight with some guy over…the moon, or something. Anyway, can you get him out of here? It's almost last call."

Tommy had to shake off the momentary shock. "Uh…Yeah, I'll be there as soon as possible."

The call ended and Tommy rushed to put on some clothes, any clothes. He put on one black sock and one white sock, some grey sweats that were a bit snug and Buck's favorite hoodie. He'd be sure to explain to Buck why he still had it once he was sober.

Bigg's was a 30 minute commute from Tommy's, but Tommy was sure to get there as quickly as possible.

He rushed inside and immediately approached the bartender. "You called me? About Buck?"

"Oh, yeah, he's over there." Greg pointed to the end of the bar to a man with his head resting on his arm and a glass of water in front of him. "Buck? Buck." Tommy nudged him.

"Mmh…" Buck mumbled as he slowly sat up. His heavy, glossy eyes went wide. "To-Tommy?"

Tommy nodded. "C'mon. Let's get you out of here before you get in trouble." Tommy attempted to help Buck off the bar stool, only to receive no cooperation.

Buck yanked his arm out of Tommy's grasp. "I don't…wanna go with you."

Tommy felt his heart sink immediately. He knew all along Buck hated him, but this was proof. "Why?" He asked, knowing the question was pointless.

"Because you hate me. You don't want me."

"Listen, I don't hate you, okay? And I'm not leaving without you."

Buck whimpered and put his head back down. "M'not going."

"Please." Tommy sighed. "You can't stay here all night, they want you to go."

Buck snickered. "So nobody wants me."

"Just let me take you home, okay? I promise I don't mind."

Buck slowly sat up and allowed Tommy to escort him out of the bar. Tommy strapped Buck into his backseat and handed him a plastic bag from one of his grocery shopping trips earlier that week.

"If you need me to stop or slow down, just say so."

Buck mumbled something as his head bobbed to the side, gently knocking against the window.

Tommy began driving, occasionally glancing back at Buck, who hadn't said a single word since they left the bar.

"I told him…" Buck slurred.

"Told who?" Tommy asked.

"The guy…at the bar. I told him…there were active volcanoes on the moon and he…he said I sounded stupid. You…never called me stupid." "You're not stupid, Buck."

"Can we go to your house?"

"Why my house?" Tommy narrowed his eyes into the rear view mirror.

"Wanna…use the white noise machine."

Tommy did not want to bring Buck to his house, but he also did want to bring Buck to his house.

"Fine." He acquiesced.

Tommy drove Buck back to his house, helped him out of his clothes and into the bed. He turned on the white noise machine and tucked Buck in securely.

"I'll be downstairs if you need me."

"No!" Buck exclaimed, grabbing his hand. "Stay with me."

Tommy shook his head. "I can't sleep here with you."

"Why?" Buck whined. "Y'don't wanna?"

He did wanna. Very much so. He craved nights like this every night since he broke up with Buck. But he didn't think he deserved it.

"No. You're drunk. I don't think you'd want to sleep next to me if you were sober."

"Please." Buck begged. "I've missed you so bad. I just want to lay next to you. One more time."

Tommy joined Buck in the bed, against his better judgement.

He let Buck flop into his arm and nuzzle against his cheek.

“Goodnight kiss.” Buck mumbled.

Tommy slowly turned to Buck. A kiss is just a kiss, right? No big deal. They’ve done it a hundred times. Maybe even more.

Tommy planted a soft, chaste kiss on Buck’s lips.

“Another.” He agreed. “Another.” Of course. “One more.” Anything he wanted.

Until Buck rolled on top of him, the chaste kisses becoming slow, passionate and sloppy.

It was the kiss he remembered. The taste he remembered. The tongue he remembered. The Evan he remembered. It was so good, it made him moan.

But they hadn’t discussed the breakup. This wasn’t something that could be left in the past and forgotten. They were too broken to be here. He didn’t deserve these kisses.

Buck slid his hand down, freeing their cocks from the restricting shorts that kept them separated from one another, grinding against Tommy slowly and lazily.

He didn’t deserve the feeling of Evan’s cock slowly gliding against his own, so slick and wet and eager to push inside him.

“E-Ev—baby. We-we shouldn’t.” He moaned, attempting to refuse himself the oncoming orgasm. He didn’t deserve this.

“Tommy.” Buck whined. “I needed you. Missed you.”

“I missed you too.” His moan was a little louder than he anticipated. His cock was sputtering and leaking weeks of pent up precome.

“You’ve never been this hard before.” Buck whispered with a smirk he couldn’t see in the darkness.

“We’ve been apart for a long time.” Tommy admitted, gripping Buck’s ass and grinding up against him, meeting his movements.

Tommy should have been focused on other things. You are so drunk, I had to scrape you off a bar stool. We aren’t together anymore. What are we even doing?

But all he could focus on was—

“I’m gonna come!” Tommy moaned. “Don’t stop.”

“Come for me, daddy. Yeah. You feel so good.” Buck praised. He leaned into Tommy’s neck, softly biting his sensitive skin.

Tommy let out a guttural groan as his cock spilled between them, and Buck soon followed, continuing to slowly grind against Tommy, kissing him until they both had nothing left.

Buck rolled onto the pillow and sighed happily. “Man. I really needed that.”

Tommy slowly sat up. “I’m gonna go get something to clean us up with.”

“Don’t be gone long, baby. I wanna talk to you.”

Tommy wasn’t in much of a rush to return. Buck was drunk. There was no way they could have a decent conversation like this.

He returned, hoping Buck was sound asleep, slightly disappointed when Buck turned toward him as he cleaned him off.

“Tommy.” Buck mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“I miss you so much. I love you…so much.”

“I’m sorry, Evan.” Tommy said sincerely. “But I don’t think you know what you’re saying right now. Let’s pick this up in the morning.”

“Mmh. I do.” Buck weakly argued. “I mean it.”

“Okay. I will believe you when you’re sober.”

“Kiss me.”

Tommy offered Buck one more kiss. Two more kisses. Three more kisses. Ambushed when Buck pulled him in for a fourth, smiling against his lips as if he’d won something.

Tommy didn’t deserve to feel like a prize.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Evan.”

Tommy lied flat on his back and Buck rolled into his arms, lazily peppering kisses on Tommy’s cheek until he fell asleep.

Tommy could feel Buck’s breathing evening out and his breath tickling his cheek.

It was nice. And he didn’t deserve it at all.

The following morning, Tommy woke up in bed alone. He’d be able to convince himself that last night was a dream if Buck’s cologne didn’t linger on his sheets and on his skin.

This is exactly what he deserved. Buck obviously came to his senses when he woke up and realized this was a drunken mistake.

Tommy dragged himself downstairs to make some coffee. There was no way he was going to make it through the day without a cup or two.

He didn’t expect his door to swing open the moment he reached the counter.

“Oh h-hey, good morning.” Buck greeted. “I thought you’d still be asleep before I got back.” He lifted the bag in his hand. “I went to get us some breakfast, to thank you and apologize for last night. I-I don’t remember everything, but I know you picked me up before I did something I would regret. So, thank you.”

“Thank Greg.”

“Greg?”

“The bartender. He said you were crying over me and asked me to get you out of the bar. I felt responsible.”

“Yeah.” Buck laughed. “I uh…I memorized your number in case anything ever happened. Since we’re both first responders…” He trailed off, sighing. “So. Hungry?”

“Yeah. Thank you. I’ll make us some coffee.”

“So…about last night.” Buck began. “I don’t really remember everything. Did we…”

Tommy nodded.

“I figured. Did I say anything stupid?”

“You told me you love me.”

“W—hey, that’s not stupid.” Buck frowned.

“When you’re drunk and don’t mean it, it is.”

“I did mean it.”

Tommy shook his head. “You don’t.”

“Tommy. I’m not stupid. Or confused. I do love you.”

“I never said you were any of those things. I just don’t think you can love me for everything I am when I’ve been holding so much back.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I feel like I’ve…" Tommy sighed. "I've conditioned myself to be a good boyfriend. To be right. To be perfect. And in the process of all that. I don’t know if I’m ever really…myself. I’m afraid to let go. To unwind. To not be the confident, comfortable person. I’ve tried to be everything you were attracted to, but I can’t be that all the time. And when that veil is pulled away, I’ll lose you. You’ll lose interest.”

“Don’t you think I want to see more of that? It’s okay to fall apart in my arms, and give me a chance to love you unconditionally. That’s what I want to do. I want to see you. All of you.”

“You only think you do.”

“I know you’ll have a moment of weakness. Everyone does. I’ve seen it before. You’ve questioned your place in the 118 family more than once, and I’m always here to remind you how special you are. Beyond all the cool things you do. I just—I want to love everything about you.”

Buck nervously watched Tommy. He was quiet. Pensive. It made Buck’s grip tighten so much on his coffee cup, he could’ve cracked it.

“I told you last night that I would believe you when you were sober.”

“So…do you believe me?”

Tommy nodded. “I do, and I love you too. I don't ever want to let you go again."

Buck smiled. "Hey ca-can we have sex?"

"That's your first order of business?" Tommy snorted.

"I just wanna remember it this time! And maybe it'll help with my hangover."

"Can we finish breakfast first?"

Buck's sweet smile turned into a mischievous smirk that Tommy knew all too well. Before he knew it, he was being dragged upstairs by his collar.

"We can finish breakfast later."

Give me kudos <3

[biibini]

Its okay if you dont wanna do this but i really wanna know what you think mizu would do when reader gets her period

modern!mizu x reader gets her period (request)

tags: period, cuddling, fluff, kissing, modern au, modern mizu, mizu being best girl

a/n: ok midterms r coming up so soon HAHAHAHAH (im so nervous)

modern!mizu would def have the supplies

but i’d feel like she’d carry the lighter, smaller pads

but on most days, mizu would be a tampon user

to ur surprise, she typically uses panty liners for the majority of her period

and even if she does get a heavy period, she can handle it on most days

(yeah im fucking jealous i wish that was me)

like perfect silky hair and thin pads???

mizu my girl

hand those genes over

anyways

she would have aspirin and a hot pack on hand if u need it

when she was growing up, they used to be super heavy but now they've become lighter

if ur a heavy flow typa gal,

oh lord its extra packs for mizu to buy

at first, she would be rlly confused at the sizing and the number of flaps/extensions the pads would have

and what specific color to buy

(iykyk my heavy flow girls will know)

but she doesnt mind, u need them

as long as her girl is covered and safe and sound

if ur a tampon girl, mizu would double check to make sure she got ur brand when she goes shopping

modern!mizu would notice ur cycles, especially the week beforehand when ur rlly moody

whether its u being acting more impatient or upset than usual

she checks and makes sure that she has the necessities at hand

if she doesnt, she’ll say she’s just gonna run some errands

technically its not a lie

she does go to the closest convenience store

but the errands in question: pads/tampons and something sweet

(personally im a chocolate sweets girlie)

she’ll get u a lil sweet treat that’ll last u for a week or two

modern!mizu would also pour an extra cup of tea for u before bed

she just wants u to be as comfortable as u can be during ur period

and if u guys are cuddling and watching something before bed

she’ll make sure to keep u comfortable

“Mizu, pleaseeee. Just one more episode?”, you plead. You guys had just finished the second to last episode of the show. Sure, you felt a little tired. But the thought of moving and crawling off of Mizu’s chest didn’t outweigh the comfort of the couch.

Mizu sighs.

“You always do this and then you end up falling asleep.”, Mizu states as she grabs the remote control.

“Not necessarily-“, you rebute. Technically, she wasn’t wrong with your history of falling asleep. But not this time.

“Mmhmm. Right…”, she responds, a little sass in her tone.

You pout. “Please. I promise, I’ll stay up.”

You place your warm cup of tea aside, allowing you to wrap your arms around Mizu’s neck. You feel the heat of her neck against your forearms.

“Besides, it’s the final episode.”, you smile. You look at Mizu for sign of defeat.

“Ok fineeee,” she clicks on the next episode button, “Stay awake now. I’m not summarizing it this time.”

You plant a kiss on her cheek, pulling her closer to your body. She places her mug next to yours and letting her arms wrap around your body. You feel the warmth of her hands press against your body, almost burning from the hot tea.

“I promise I won’t.”, you assure as you sit back against Mizu’s chest again. You feel Mizu’s arms relax and allow you to prep yourself before watching the finale.

Mizu smiles as she felt your body lay back on hers. Your weight alongside the blanket you’re sharing relaxes her. You feel her arms gently wrap around you again as you hear the intro to the episode play.

Her hands start to drag along your sides to your stomach. You feel her burning palm place itself on the top of your lower stomach. Its presence shared a similarity to a heat pad.

You hum in response. While her right hand is busy drawing attention to your lower stomach, you feel her other hand wrap around you and pull you closer. You feel her lips lightly graze your shoulder.

“Mizu, it feels good but-”, you say as her right hand starts to gently massage your stomach.

Fuck. That feels so nice.

You hold back a groan. “Not here, hon.”, you say as you nod your head towards Ringo’s bedroom door.

“I know, don’t worry.”, Mizu responds as she places a soft kiss near your neck. “I just want you to feel comfortable now. You’re on your period, right?”

You nod in response.

“So c’mere. I’ll keep you nice and warm.”

modern!mizu would put ur towel in the dryer while u shower

ik its oddly specific

but i feel like she would make sure to make u feel warm in any way possible

with or without heat pad

same concept applies for the blanket

shes always so thankful her and ringo got an apartment with an in-unit washer dryer

when ur washing up, she’ll typically be doing some light studying with some tea before bed

a break inbetween would be the pop the towel in the dryer

next break is swapping out the towel for the blanket

final break is bringing back the blanket right before u get into bed

its a strange strategy but it helps her stay focused and paces herself while synonymously taking care of u

modern!mizu would make sure she’s wrapping her arms around ur lower stomach when ur cuddling at night

the heating pad gets annoying to sleep with

especially if u tend to toss and turn at night

but having her hands warm u helps u relax at night

when ur trying to sleep, she’ll gently caress and massage ur stomach to help release any tension

at first, u thought it wouldnt have an effect on u

but the more she did it, the more relieved u felt at night

mizu would also feel relaxed knowing that u r relaxed as well

when she heard ur snores, she knows shes done a job well done

[dollscircus]

Cycle Of Violence- Chapter 1

Jason Todd X Reader

Tags: Canon Typical Violence. References to drug addiction.

Jason has met pure evil, an unfortunate number of times. Dawning the Red Hood after his time as the Arkham Knight isn’t exactly a fresh start. Far from it and not a start he deserves however, those memories of that place come running back in a painful way when a man returns to the city with a bloody bang. 

 Gotham isn’t a welcoming place, that’s what you wanted when you moved to the city after a past you wanted to run away from. Well, a man you wanted to get away from. You just wanted to fade away in the crowd but when the man you ran from comes to Gotham chasing your tail.

---

It hurt. You couldn’t move. Everything was so cold. You tried to pull back, to pull away. You wanted to escape the bitter cold, but the hands wouldn’t let you. They felt so much stronger than yours, holding you down. They weren’t even  

that much bigger but felt so much stronger. Nails digging into your skin, the pain simply mixing in with the rest.  

You tried to call out for help, but the bitterly frigid water rushed into your mouth and lungs, choking the very words out of your lungs.  

Oh god. Please someone help. He’s going to kill me. Father- please! Help me. 

You snapped away with a gasp, sitting up in bed. The blanket pooling around your waist at least allowed some of the cold night air to chase away the heat your body was making, drenching your body with a fevered sweat.  

Your mind was racing for a few moments, not quite catching up with what really happened. Adrenalin felt rich in your blood while you were trying to catch your breath, your chest moving up and down trying to draw air into your lungs.  

You looked around your fully lit bedroom, blinking a few times in the artificial light. Where- Oh, you were in your home. You let out a shuddering sigh of relief. Doubling over to hold your face in your hands which you could feel shaking against your face.  

The itch was in the back of your head, it could make you feel better. Take the pain away, make the pain stop. You  

pushed it away with a shake of your head, raking your hands back through your hair pushing it back from your face.  

Deep breath. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two and one.  

You reached and picked up the small bag of candy, popping the first thing your fingers grabbed into your mouth. The sweetness on your tongue chasing the itch away, just a little.  

Climbing out of bed felt a lot harder than usual, limbs feeling heavy as you looked around the bright room but that was usual. You usually kept all the lights on as you slept anyway, which makes it easier to sleep. You don’t feel as much.  

You cast a glance at your window, the Gotham night sky mostly hidden by the buildings. You miss the stars sometimes. Sighing, you went about your morning- It's not morning, you checked the clock.  

6:47 in the evening, but that was morning to you.  

You made sure to pick up the small white metal chip, taking a second to relish in the cold of the metal against your finger.  

You were still on edge when walking down the steps into the space under your apartment, the sterile smell hit you before you even flicked on the lights, The clinic greeting you. You  

sighed while rolling your shoulders, shaking off the unease. Didn’t really word.  

You did a quick inventory while setting up, everything was accounted for.  

No hard painkillers. You don’t trust yourself.  

The rest found here:

@sleepieenaps (You asked to be tagged :))

[thesparklingwriter]

millenia precede us

“Let’s play a game,” You say. “Whoever finds the other first wins a prize.”

tags: reincarnation au, fem!reader, reader is part adeptus, inspired by this ask from aine

word count: 3k (apologies for this monster of a fic)

ao3 link | taglist | masterlist | next

Zhongli dreams of you again. For the first time in centuries, he sees your face, your smile, your laugh. The dreams had first started when he was young—or young by archon standards. He’d drifted off to sleep one night, and woke up entirely occupied by the face of someone he’d never met before, by the smell of something he was sure he’d never smelt in his lifetime.

He’d found comfort in seeing you—in listening to you talk in a language he didn’t yet understand, wearing clothes he hadn’t seen before. You’d come for a few years, and then disappear, only to reappear later, wearing something different, speaking in a different language. Your smile never seemed to change.

The two of you could never truly communicate either—your shared dreamscape was simple, a park in the height of autumn, a small picnic blanket on the floor. There, you’d snack on whatever was laid out on the blanket and try your bests to communicate however you could. Most times, however, you’d cuddle up to each other and sit in silence, watching the way the landscape changed.

He’d always known that you’d come back. He hoped that you’d come back. But you’d been gone for so long that he began to fear that your reincarnation cycle had ended, that he’d never get to meet you in real life.

“Hello,” you smile. Zhongli can barely reply to you—hes so stunned that he can understand you, that he can recognise the clothes you’re wearing and the floral scent you always carried with you. Glaze lilies. That’s what it was. “First time here?” You ask kindly. Zhongli stares at you before clearing his throat.

“No.” he replies. You seem confused, but sit yourself down on the blanket and run your hands over the copper-coloured silk. “I’ve met you a few times.” He says, lowering himself to sit beside you.

“A few times?” You say quietly. “I recognise your voice, the way you smell, but not your face. Is that how this is supposed to be?”

Zhongli is ashamed to admit that he doesn’t know. As far as he knows, he was the first to experience anything like this, and slowly others began to too, until it became commonplace for people across Teyvat. Something he or the other archons did must have made this happen, but none of them had any clue what it could be.

“I’m not sure,” Zhongli replies, shifting himself so that he’s not so close to you, for fear of making you uncomfortable. You notice him shifting away and close the gap yourself, resting your head against his shoulder the way you did when you first met all those centuries ago. “Not much is known about the dreamscapes.” he says.

“How long have you been able to visit?” You ask, looking up at him.

Zhongli is torn between lying, or gracing you with the truth. “A number of years,” He says finally and you look at him with wide eyes.

“How much older than me are you?” You ask. Zhongli looks at you, again torn as to what he should say. The truth is always better, especially in situations like this, but the truth may also be too much to handle.

“I’m an adeptus,” he decides this is a better course of action. “I’m older than I appear.” You don’t seem as surprised by this as he expected—in fact, you don’t seem to have a problem with it at all.

“My mum’s an adeptus, this isn’t new to me.” You smile. “Anyway, what’s your name?”

“Zhongli,” He says. You say his name under your breath, resting the words on your tongue. Zhongli looks at you in wonder, at the way you take this all in your stride. You ask him questions and he responds, and you don't seem to miss a beat. He reckons he could tell you everything, the whole truth, and you probably wouldn't even flinch.

It’s strange to you, the way he already seems so comfortable. How long has he truly known you for? And how is that even possible? But even despite your thoughts, you know Teyvat is place a where the most random things can happen, and you know you won’t find the answer you seek without asking him. But you'd like to enjoy his presence, so you decide to pack it in for the time being. “You don’t have any questions for me?” You ask him, tilting your head slightly.

“Not necessarily, no.” He smiles. “I’ve learned to know you fairly well, though you might not remember our past encounters.”

“That’s sweet,” you reply, sitting up. You sigh as the beautiful landscape begins to fade and you sense yourself waking up. How unfair, you think to yourself. It feels like I've barely had five minutes with him. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll be looking out for you when I’m out. Bye, Zhongli.”

Zhongli stays seated once you leave, staring out into the middle distance. He sighs. He never got your name.

You sit up in bed, head pounding. It’s still pitch black outside, but your alarm continues to ring incessantly as you pull yourself out of bed and get ready for a day at the office. A new publishing company has begun shipping its books to Liyue and it’s your job to read through as many of them as you can and provide thorough and honest reviews. The only problem with this is that they aren’t really the kind of books you usually read. If anything, they’re the exact opposite of the Liyuean fiction you’re used to reviewing.

As you read, your mind drifts to Zhongli, the way he’d looked at you as if you were coming home to him, as if you were familiar. And it scares you—the fact that somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you know him, but can't place your finger on it. A stranger shouldn't feel familiar.

“Everything going okay?” Your coworker lets herself into your office, smiling brightly. “I heard you got lumped with the Inazuman erotica. How’s that going?”

You sigh, placing the book down. It’s not like you were truly going to get to the end of it anyway, with your mind so focused on the way Zhongli smiled at you with such fondness.

“Oh, it’s going, alright,” You sigh, leaning back in your seat. “I just never know what to expect next, if I’m honest. Did you know there’s a whole book that’s just about a dragon?”

“Dragon…erotica?” Your coworker asks, glancing dangerously at the pile of books on your desk.

“Sorry, half dragon, half-qilin. I should be more specific.” You run your hands through your hair. “I’ve been avoiding that one like the plague.”

“Isn’t your deadline in like three weeks?”

“Don’t remind me.” You say, standing up to shoo them out of your office. “It will be the last thing I read. A final hurrah of sorts. Now get out.”

Over the next few days, finishing work for the day is a much more exciting event than it usually is. You know that the minute you hit the hay, Zhongli is likely going to be there. He goes to bed early so it seems like he’s always waiting for you in his shared dreamscape.

“You know,” You say, resting your head on his shoulder. A lake suddenly appeared in the dreamscape and you’ve taken to watching the koi as they dance around each other in the glistening water. “Why don’t you just tell me where to find you? Make this easier on both of us.”

Zhongli chuckles. “I could do that, yes. But it would be rude of me to send you on a wild goose chase across Liyue. It would be easier if you just told me where to find you.”

“As if.” You scoff, getting up to dip your hands in the lake and feel the fish brush past you. You’d named them over the last few days: Ai for the fish with heart-shaped scales, Lian for the fish who was easily startled, and Gan for the fish that seemed to protect it. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m sure you can identify the hypocrisy in your own statement.” Zhongli says.

“Let’s play a game,” You say. “Whoever finds the other first wins a prize.”

“And that prize is…?”

“A secret. What do you say, Zhongli? Up for it?”

Zhongli looks at you in awe and mild frustration. He always knew that you enjoyed problem-solving and a good challenge, which was clear by the way you used to try and find ways to communicate with him all those years ago, but he never expected this. Either way, he nods, listens dutifully to your rules (three clues each and no cheating by asking for each other by name) and agrees to your terms. That is, not that you gave him much of a choice in the matter.

And thus the game begins. The three clues you give him are mean—you work ‘normal’ hours, you like to read, and you spend a lot of time near the harbour. It doesn’t really narrow down much for him, but he humours you anyway, giving you his three clues in return. Arguably, his are even worse than yours—they’re riddles that seemed to have no connection to him whatsoever. As you try to accuse him of unfair play, you feel yourself stirring awake, and instead swear you’ll call him out on it on a later date.

Of course, you didn’t expect that you’d be seeing him so little over the coming weeks.

As your deadline pulls closer and you begin to pull more all-nighters to try and finish reviewing all the books that have been sent to you, you spend so little time sleeping that by the time you’re deep enough in sleep to reach the dreamscape, your alarm goes off and you’re dragged back into the real world.

“Mr Zhongli, are you alright?” After a week of watching Zhongli descend more and more into a worrying state, Hu Tao realises that she has to speak up. “You haven't been yourself lately. Do you have too much work?”

“I’m quite alright. I’m simply concerned for an acquaintance of mine.” Zhongli says, snapping out of his daze, and swiping imaginary dust off his blazer. “It’s not something to worry yourself about.”

Hutao dutifully ignores the last past of his sentence, seating herself on the other side of his desk. His office is always spotless, ready for a customer to come in at any time. That being said, he seems to get more menial questions from history buffs than paying patrons.

“Now, Mr Zhongli. I’m going to give this to you straight. You’re a loner. And I’m very curious as to where this friend has spawned from. So talk.”

Zhongli chuckles. It’s not the first time he’s been told that he essentially has no friends, for it was improbable that his adepti friends would be open to meeting in the harbour. “She is an old friend.” Zhongli says.

“‘She’?” Hutao gasps, jumping up from her seat. “Oh, this is great. You have a crush on her, don’t you? This is why you’ve been in such an odd mood recently.”

“I really do dislike you sometimes,” Zhongli says quietly, as Hutao begins her incessant teasing. “It is difficult to explain, so please do not ask that of me.”

“Fine, fine.” She returns to the seat. “Well, let’s go find her. Then you can stop being worried, and I can see her for myself.”

“That may prove difficult.” Zhongli says, rising from his desk. “But I suppose the task will be easier with your help.”

You sneeze lightly as you finish the review of your penultimate book. You’re running on two hours of sleep, three coffees, and the hope that when this is done, you can finally get to finding Zhongli again. No matter how much pay your boss offers you, you won’t accept a job like this again. No way.

You glance at the final book with a glare. Why someone decided to write erotica about the archon of a nation they didn’t even belong to was beyond you. Furthermore, you really didn't feel like trudging through thousands of misconceptions, concessions in knowledge of Liyue’s customs, and of course the blatant blasphemy. And you definitely aren’t going to do it in this office.

Taking the book and a newfound sense of dread, you walk out of the office, tell the receptionist that you’re going to find somewhere nice to read the book and find yourself strolling along Liyue Harbour in search of a nice bench. You haven’t had the time to walk around like this since you started your job a year ago, and it’s crazy how much things have changed. You look around some of the stalls before asking one of the stall owners whether they know any relaxing places to sit and read.

“A koi fish pond has just been installed. Apparently it’s a symbol of friendship between Inazuma and Liyue.” She says to you. “It’s just along there, you can’t miss it.”

You thank her gratefully, following her directions before arriving there. It looks exactly like the one in your shared dreamscape, shiny silver rocks around the border and clear teal water. Even the fish look the same, and you kneel down at the pond to look at them, one jumps out of the water, almost to greet you.

“Hello, Ai,” you say softly. “I have no food for you today.” The fish jumps back into the water, disappointed by the lack of food, and you rise to your feet, getting comfortable on the opposite bench to read the book. Sitting here like this makes you miss Zhongli. With your sleep schedule being so messed up the past few weeks, you never truly get to see him anymore. This is the closest you’ve felt to him in days. And maybe it’s your own fault for suggesting you play that silly game, maybe it’s your own fault for being afraid of what would happen if you finally met, but you’re tired of the torture. Next time you catch him in the dreamscape, you’re going to tell him how to find you.

The sun beats down on you as you read, and paired with the caffeine that’s slowly draining out of your system, you slowly feel your eyes start to close. It’s not the book’s fault—it’s certainly not bad as you expected, but when you’re this tired, there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“We should start at koi fish pond,” Hutao says excitedly, as she drags Zhongli along the harbour.

“Why?”

“It’s new. I’m sure it would have garnered her interest.” She says. “And I've never had a chance to look at it.”

“I should have known better than to allow you to recruit yourself to this task,” Zhongli says. “No matter, let us go and look at the pond.”

Zhongli remembers your love for the koi pond in the dreamscape, so whilst Hutao’s suggestion may have been selfish, it wasn’t the worst possible idea. He remembers the way you named the fish, fed them with care and watched them with unleashed curiosity and joy. Even if he didn’t find you there, he would be happy to just relish in the memories of you for a while.

“What’s all that commotion at the pond?” Hutao says. Zhongli snaps out of his daze, looking up at the Millelith crouching beside the bench, his spear flat against the floor. “Miss, are you alright?” The man asks, tentatively reaching out with the intention to shake her awake.

Hutao drags him closer to the scene, ignoring the way he seems to resist her.

“Miss, are you alright?” The Millelith repeats, and the woman he’s waking up sits up slowly. Zhongli can’t believe his eyes.

“Archons, I need to finish reading that book.” You mumble, thanking the man for waking you up with a slight smile, and almost instantly burying your face back into it.

Zhongli makes no effort to move towards you, overwhelmed by seeing you in real life for the first time. The version he sees of you in dreams doesn’t even do the real you justice—in real life, you’re so much brighter and striking. Your voice is something he could listen to for hours. You’re so perfect and he fears that if moves any closer, he’ll find that it’s all an illusion, a cruel trick his mind is playing on him.

“You are aware that it’s creepy to stare at people, yes?” Hutao says lightly. And Zhongli nods, slowly walking up to you, your name on his lips.

Your book falls to the floor as you look up at him. “Zhongli?” Your body moves before you mind can and you pull him into a hug. He’s real and he’s here and you can smell him and hold him and archons, he feels like home. You pull away to look at his face, to commit every single pore of his skin to memory. He’s real. “What are you doing here? How did you find me? What’s going on?”

Zhongli smiles. “You’re just as perfect as I remember.”

“Even when I’m falling asleep on a park bench?” You grin, running a hand over the back of his head.

“Especially when you’re asleep on a park bench.”

You roll your eyes, pulling him into a kiss. “You have terrible taste.”

“Perhaps,” He says, gently stroking your face with his cheek. “But in that instance, so do you.”

© 2023, thesparklingwriter. please do not copy, edit, repost, or translate.

notes: hi this is a repost I just couldn’t bear watching it flop 😭😭 omg so i didn't mean to make this so long and i am absolutely confused as to how i got this many words. im so sure i blacked out somewhere in the middle and ended up with 3x the amount of words i usually aim for lmfaoo. anyway everyone thank aine cause if it wasn't for her you would not have this monster of a fic xoxo removing tags as I don’t wanna disturb y’all

(coloured @s couldn't be tagged)

[bucknastysbabe]

Heaven or Las Vegas

Aegon II x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW// Alcohol and drug abuse, verbal abuse, shit head Aegon, manipulation, actually you know what the whole thing is fucked up, non-descript smut, Aegon’s self hatred and learned helplessness

A/N: Yeah so it’s soothing to write about active addiction when I’m feeling crazy so I remember how awful it was. Addiction will hold you and loved ones HOSTAGE. If this struck a chord w anyone my dm’s are open me is sober around 18 months. Anyways love The Weeknd and the trilogy fuckboi era

I'm paying for all my father's sins

Aegon could blame his consistent need to fill the void in his chest on his father. That rotting, dead, vapid old man. The closest thing he had to a dad was the family bodyguard and Aegon never quite lived up to the standard.

Maybe he was just cursed to chew the world up and ruin them before spitting them out. Just like Viserys, clapping and smiling while letting his family fall to pieces and hatred. Never gave a fuck about anyone but his eldest, maybe Aegon’s uncle. His dead wife that Aegon’s mother couldn’t replace.

Vicious cycles.

So I'ma thank him for you, I'ma thank him for you

Like his father, Aegon could thank the wretch for being consistently blessed with good women. Women who took on too much in exchange for very little. Exactly the same as her. That perfect angel who he corrupted and left a goddamn mess. He loved the woman. She shouldn’t love him. Black hole of a human he was.

My serotonin's gone a while ago

She made him laugh and filled that empty hole for a second. When Aegon wasn’t snorting, popping, and drinking up everything. But he was always doing that. The fallen angel found a habit in those pills from him.

But nothing could recapture those moments late late at night, between her thighs. City lights casting her teary face into a gorgeous glow. “Only you, only you, i love you,” he’d lie. She’d cry and tighten around his cock, knowing it was a lie. Gripping manicured nails so hard into Aegon’s shoulders just to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

Girl it’s been gone cause of you, it’s been gone cause of you.

Aegon knew any sort of happiness he’d feel came from warped, perverted things. Orgies, drugs, girls and girls and fucking girls. Spending money he had no clue what do with. It made him fill that void for some minutes. He feared it was going to open up and swallow him whole soon.

The prince wanted her back. So goddamn bad. She didn’t fit in the picture. Got clean, ignored his calls, moved on. Fallen angel no more. Not his baby to mould and blacken to his liking. She thought there was something good in him. Nothing like the rotation of women on his cock now, a fifth of vodka shaking in his hand, tears threatening to roll. They didn’t give a fuck, just like everyone else. But they did what he wanted.

They say they want Heaven, they say they want God.

Towards the end she’d cry and clutch a rosary, praying to god. Aegon would get pissed. He’d demand what the fuck she was on about, get in her face. Those doe eyes bleary and red, flinching in fear.

“I don’t want to live like this. It’s eating me alive Aegon. This,” his baby had sobbed, “Is vile. I’ll never make it heaven. What would God think?”

I say, I got Heaven. I say I am God.

Aegon laughed in her tear streaked face. He gestured to the penthouse around them, booze and drugs scattered around, a wad of cash on the table next to the unlimited card used for cutting coke half the time. His not-so-fallen wept openly when he giggled maniacally, “This is heaven! I am God! You can have everything you want and more, hah, what the fuck’s not clicking here? You want to go back to the poor house?”

I never prayed a moment in my life

He did get down on his knees when his only love left him. Went to detox, didn’t leave a number or address. Aegon shook with anger, self-hatred, mind boggling sadness. He howled to the roof, “Fuck you!” When he was properly fucked up later, lips around his half-flagging cock, the blonde dimly wondered if her prayers had been answered by getting away from him.

Girl, I'm rewarded with you. I've been rewarded with you.

His love came by months later. Aegon put on an act, not a very good one when all he wanted to do was cry and be held once more. She looked good. Healthy. No permanent shakes or dark bags under the eyes. No wonder, she escaped an incubus.

“I love you. You need help.”

How could he receive help? It’s too late for a fuck-up like him. Blackened to the core. Defiled beyond measure.

So, baby, let me kiss your inner thigh. Let me kiss it for you. I can kiss it for you.

Aegon did get down to his knees when the void in his chest ached too much. He stared up at her with that look, the one that made the beauty swoon. He grabbed her soft thighs, begging and begging, “Baby- baby- please, lemme make you feel good. Like old times?” It was the only thing he knew besides drugs. She caressed his cheek and sighed, tears in her eyes, “You’d make me feel good if you loved yourself Aegon. Call me when you do that, yeah?”

Well, they say they want Heaven, they say they want God.

There’s no hope. He’d just have to make do. Even the bleakest of places looked like Heaven when you’re on enough K to kill someone. Aegon leaned over the balcony that night, staring off into the city, the dark streets below. He was in Heaven. Up above the regular doings of people. Svelte hands locked around his waist, Aegon smiled.

I say, I have Heaven. I say, I am God.

He plowed that girl on the balcony, wind whipping his pale hair. Hips snapping into a nameless wet cunt he shouted, “I am God! Fuck!” She squealed and twisted like she enjoyed his insane ramblings. Aegon finished on her ass and stumbled to his unmade bed, dizzy as the party raged on. He’d make his own destiny. With the void, always there, always hungry.

[lilioopdf]

mini F2 race predictions

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚ ✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊

this is personal bc ive been staying away from tarot and fortune telling for really really long because it just doesn’t align with who i am anymore but i am also a really curious person and this week has been emotionally taxing so im doing this for FUN and for myself

but anyway these are my mini predictions for the sprint and feature race (F2) except im only looking at one driver (and i won’t tag this post because i really don’t want this to show up anywhere)

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚ ✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊

sprint race: king of wands, 7 of pentacles, the star

not too bad?? its not amazing but it’s not horrible, just average. and i think that with the seven of pentacles there will be lots of information picked up on or gained from this race, which could really help in the feature race the day after. and with the king of wands it makes me wonder if there’s a possibility of him dominating the race, for at least some period of time? or maybe setting the fastest timing for a lap/sector at least once. with the star, i think a lot of useful data could be collected behind the scenes, like really really useful info that wasn’t found previously. the star kinda feels like there will be certain blessings present, and a wish may be made and granted. the seven of pentacles is usually the final step before the hard work pays off.

significant numbers (in this context): 7, 17, 3, 4

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚ ✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊

feature race: 3 of cups, 10 of cups, 6 of pentacles

so so positive i cannot stress this enough— so much celebration, so much fulfilment marking the end of a cycle. maybe some help involved, either given or received. positive, in the way only cool and calm mornings can feel, specifically at 8am, as it slowly gets closer to 10am. idk not much to say but the effort behind this race feels more centred, like there is a smaller group of people being actively involved in this race, and the celebrations may also be mainly for a smaller group of people than usual, but lots of happiness of course. this feels like watching the sunset at a beach, unplanned.

extra: i noticed the devil card pop up but it came with too many cards so i put it back in but it feels like a small warning to not get too egotistical or rude and lose focus on what’s actually important, like safety and relationships, and to not be overly consumed or obsessed by something— like results or incidents on track or the past

significant numbers: 3, 6, 10, 5, 7, 4

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚ ✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊

bottom of deck: wheel of fortune

the wheel of fortune usually symbolises luck, or karma. it usually signifies a change in luck, and i always tell people that this change in luck could be from bad to good luck, or vice versa. it’s not a one directional thing— whatever you’ve been experiencing recently, changes. although in this context it definitely feels more positive given the recent dnfs. card number 10. with 11 under it— whatever is received this weekend is well deserved and long time coming

also wait im adding on to this but maybe tyre management might be significant in these two races, in this specific drivers case

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚ ✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊

anyway i still don’t know if ill watch the races because both F3 and F2 races have been heartbreaking recently but i might, after this reading— i just pray that pepe does really really well and that there are no crashes and that everyone is safe and happy despite their end positions and that it’s a good weekend for all drivers and mechanics and fans and team principals and any and everyone on earth except mean people

okay byebye ill come back to this after both races are complete and update this

- 🪷

[windvexer]

Hi, do you have a post on calculating the planetary hours of the day or a specific tag for planet magic like that? I found charts online but for some reason I just keep getting really confused on figuring out what hour corresponds to what with time zones, I'm not sure how that affects it? I know I've seen you post about it but tumblr search is useless. Thank you!

Hi, I do not have a post about the calculations, but perhaps my explanation will suffice where the same explanation has elsewhere not suffoced 😅

First things first, no need to use charts! There are many online calculators. Try this one!

Any modern calculator will calculate the time zones for you.

In the linked calculator, only enter in your current city. The math is done on your behalf.

I tried to do an explanation of calculating this but my nerve pain is just brutal today.

So I stole it from PlentifulEarth.com instead:

Determine Sunrise and Sunset: Check local times for these events using reliable sources or apps. Calculate Day and Night Duration: Calculate how many minutes are between sunrise and sunset for day time. Calculate how many minutes are between sunset and sunrise for night time. Divide Each by Twelve: Each period (day or night) is divided into 12 equal hours, but remember, these aren’t the standard 60-minute hours we’re used to! You should have two separate hour lengths, one for the length of day time’s hours and one for the length of night time’s hours. Convert Minutes Back to Hours: Starting at sunrise, take the number of minutes from step 3 and add them to find out the next “hour” mark. Repeat until you get to sunset. Do this again for the night time period. Assign Planetary Rulers: Based on the day, the first hour will be ruled by the planet governing that day. Then, label each following hour as the planet that comes next in the Chaldean sequence.

Just remember, if doing by hand, start the operation by finding your current sunrise and sunset times.

Be careful when Googling, because Google will by default show you today's sunset and tomorrow's sunrise; but what you really need is both for the same day. (Ultimately this will at most change your calculations by a minute and isn't vital, but good to be mindful of).

When doing this calculation yourself, there should never be a time where you are calculating your own time zone in relation to another time zone.

There are 12 planetary hours during daylight. But, these "hours" are not 60 minutes long. The 12 units of time stretch out for long days (summer), and get squished for short days (winter).

All you are doing is finding how many hours of daylight are happening for your location that day, and dividing by 12.

The first planetary hour matches the day (Sun Sunday, Moon Monday, Mars Tuesday, Mercury Wednesday, Jupiter Thursday, Venus Friday, Saturn Saturday) and they cycle through the day.

There are also 12 planetary "hours" during nighttime, which are stretched (winter) and squished (summer) so that all 12 fit into the darkness.

Anyway, hope this helps! I'd recommend just using a calculator, not charts :)

[fiercynn]

so @manogirl, @inventedfangirling, and @sharingfandoms all tagged me in the thai ql favorites tag game (thanks friends!), and i wasn't sure if i had enough to say about shows other than bad buddy to do it, but i figure you can't ever talk about bbs too much amirite

favorite thai ql: yeah so it's bad buddy, surprise surprise. i watched it all in the course of like 36 hours in february 2022, not long after it had ended, and it has been thoroughly stuck in my soul ever since. i've watched it so many times and in so many pieces that i couldn't even guess at a number. i've posted...uh...200k words of bad buddy fic in the past year and half? the obsession is real. it's just such a perfect mix of antagonistic and silly and tense and sweet and heartbreaking and healing that i keep going back to it over over. i love its narrative arc, and i love its little details, and i love all the ways we get to keep reinterpreting it over and over in fanworks. and i love the people i've met in the fandom, which is really hard to separate from the show! i've made really close and awesome friends here, which seems extremely fitting tbh. so yeah anyway i like that show a lot

favorite pairing: seems obvious given my previous answer, but patpran, followed closely by inkpa! idk i just think they're both neat and extremely in love

most underrated actor: JENNIE PANHAN I NEED HER IN EVERYTHING OKAY

favorite character: parakul siridechawat. he's just so in love you guys, even when (he thinks) it's hopeless. i love a character who pines. my sexuality is pining actually and pran's might be too (jk i love pran for many many many reasons but this is the one i felt like talking about today)

favorite side character: i think it has to be a tie between mae from 3wbf and longtae from a tale of thousand stars...two very different characters! i love mae in all her complexity, her efforts to be good and kind and empathetic that are interrupted by the death of the one person who was good and kind and empathetic towards her, and her search for revenge once he's gone, and then her ultimate realization that she needs to stop the cycle of violence even if it takes one more act of violence herself. meanwhile i love longtae because he is sweet and funny and adorable and such a good friend to literally everyone in pha phun dao and also it's khao, how could i not?

favorite scene in a ql: so if i type the letter "y" in my browser, the first search result is the youtube link to bad buddy episode 5 part 4/4. does that answer your question

favorite line in a ql: i thought i was going to struggle with this one but it came to me instantly: uncle tong from bad buddy saying, "you might think one man can't change the world. but i want you to know that this world can't change someone like me either." have i mentioned i am both queer and work in climate activism for a living

most anticipated ql (& why): 23.5 degrees the series!!!! i was already one million percent there for milklove but the recent confirmation of viewjune is just like the icingest of icing on the cake. i'm so fucking stoked you guys

i'm sorry i'm not going to answer the question on guilty pleasure series because like @manogirl i do not believe in the concept, nor the ones on healthiest vs. toxic relationships because i simply do not feel like it <3

most underrated series: hmm, most of the thai ql series i've seen are too well-known/watched to count for this. like would we call gap the series underrated? probably not, right? maybe...triage? but i personally felt like triage got pretty uneven in the second half...idk this is the problem with having mostly stuck to gmmtv huh

i really have not kept good track of who has done this meme already so ummmm @citystoryscapes @mahuhumaling @melto @mousieta @incandescentflower @galauvant @dancing-out-in-space

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

Prince’s First Day

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2: Departing

Tagging: @sonia-aquamarineson @asmoteeth @novafire-is-thinking

Summary: The tension between Prince and Predaking grows stronger after their fight. Predaking does his best to subtly try to leave all this on a high note before Prince has to leave for Earth soon. But Prince’s future actions might just lead to an even bigger divide between the two than before.

— — —

The following day, after Prince and Predaking’s fight, was the day Prince had to pack up and get moving. Yesterday, when the argument between the two escalated, Prince managed to spill blood as he savagely bit Predaking’s claw. Both his heads after blasting King in the face with fire, retired all sensibility out the window and bared their strong fangs. Immediately piercing Predaking’s index claw—spilling Predacon energon, some of which Prince accidentally tasted and almost threw back up.

And when Prince realized what he had done, he tried to retreat both jaws from the wound—resulting in Prince ripping a chunk out of the claw.

They were then tossed back into his chambers and locked in until he could adjust their attitude. It was harsh, but how else do you deal with your kid ripping a chunk of your finger off? Albeit a small chunk by Predaking’s standards, but a chunk nonetheless.

Back to Prince wallowing in their chambers by throwing a tantrum. He tore up the walls and made shallow gouges at his own floors, not even taking any breaks. Just the longest couple of joors going absolutely ballistic.

Prince is a very immature and stubborn mech. He can be destructive, ill mannered, disrespectful, and overall terrible at handling their own emotions when things don’t go their way. Because under all that fiery temper is just a spoiled brat who is too selfish to understand how the world doesn’t revolve around him and him alone.

And under all of that, is someone who is worth helping, even though they act like they aren’t. That’s what Predaking wants to believe anyway.

— — —

Prince was finally done lashing out.

Everything was shoved off the shelves, his floors and walls were torn apart, and his window had been shattered. It was not a pretty sight. And there wasn’t really any point in cleaning it up if Prince wasn’t even going to be living here for a long time. A really… really… long time.

It was only for a couple stellar-cycles, but on the planet they’re being transferred to, it might as well be a whole vorn. A whole vorn on some big dirt rock in a cramped building with a bunch of puny dweebs. The worst part about it is that he heard that it has nurses.

And Prince is the number one needle resister when it comes to the vornly clinic visit.

*knock knock knock*

The knocking at Prince’s chamber door is what brought them of their post-tantrum trance.

Great. Now what?

“Y-Your m-ma-majesty—“

Prince answered through the locked door. Not letting the poor Predacon finish.

“What?!”

“Ah! Oh! Oh uh, uh oh—P-Predaking wishes for you t-to speak—to meet—to dine in the uh, the dining room..”

“And—how am I supposed to that? Hm? The door’s locked.”

“Oh! Okay r-right. H-Hold tight…”

As soon as the servant hesitantly unlocked the door with a *click*—it was a solid klik before Prince pulled both doors open. Shoving the Predacon sent to retrieve him, out of the way with force. He started storming down the hall and made their way towards the dining room, about to eat with his mentor after cooling down.

— — —

*tap tap tap tap tap*

Went Prince’s claws against the table. Looking down at his energon cube before him. He was still a bit riled up from earlier and didn’t feel like consuming anything. They were still mad but not as mad as before.

When Prince arrived to the room and saw Predaking sitting on his gargantuan sized chair, he didn’t want to speak with him at all. Talk about petty.

They were about to just snatch the cube and go back to his room, but his mentor “insisted” that they stay. And by insisted he meant glaring at them until they sat down. It was like the force of his gaze alone would turn them to stone, crush them into pebbles, melt them into lava, turn him back into a bot and do it all over again. It was not a feeling someone as full of themself as Prince likes to admit.

Predaking was taking a long sip out of his cube while looking at a datapad he laid on the table—pushing up his glasses with a bandaged claw to realign them with his optics. Prince couldn’t ever see what Predaking was looking at since they were so far apart. Oh yeah, turns out the table is as long as Predaking times two if he laid down head to toe.

With every time Predaking adjusts his glasses and shows off the bandaged scar Prince gave him on his claw, Prince starts to feel… weird. He obviously didn’t mean to bite off a piece of Predaking’s claw, but they were able to hurt—the—Predaking and tear through his armor with ease. He should see that scar as a symbol of pride, like an accomplishment or a trophy.

So… why does he feel so bad every time it comes into view?

Predaking finally looked over to Prince and noticed how his cube was still very much full. How the frag did he notice their puny cube from far away, if he needs glasses to read datapads? Psh, old bot stuff probably.

“You better get a good refueling while you can. Tomorrow is a big day for you.”

“TmoRrOw Is A biG DaY fOR yOu—yeah, frag off jerk.” Prince replied with an irritating impression of Predaking.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I BeG YoUr ParDOn?”

“Prince.”

“PrInCe.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m SeRIoUs bleh b-bleh I’m PrEdaKinG and I’m StUpId and oLd and CrAnKy.”

Predaking said nothing. Having a face full of disappointment, which Prince absolutely ignored. And with an annoying grin spread across his face, they finally sipped their energon.

“Are you done yet?” Predaking asked begrudgingly.

Prince didn’t say anything. He had to keep refueling for the big day tomorrow, just as Predaking said.

— — —

It was finally time for departure for Prince.

Everything he needed was packed into a duffel bag by the servants since he was still being bratty. Standing in the doorway that was looking towards the entrance to the castle, Prince stood there with arms crossed and pouting. With the duffel hung on his shoulder, and Predaking standing behind him, asking if they’re ready to head off. He moved towards the door without answering or looking back.

Transforming and taking off after Predaking, so he could lead the way towards the Spacebridge Station. Prince stayed quiet the entire flight. Almost too quiet.

Predaking knows his protégé well, too well in fact, so he noticed something was wrong straight away. To ease his own concern, he thought striking up some small talk with him soon would be best. Afterall, he wouldn’t be seeing Prince for a while.

Even if they are the sole target for his citizens’ disgust. Or the most disappointing representation of Predacon royalty. Or even the most irredeemable Predacon on the planet, Predaking won’t give up on them regardless. It was his fault he turned out this way, and he was the one who made the decision to send him away to see if there’s still hope for the youngling. If it wasn’t already too late, that is.

No matter how much Predaking was going to miss Prince, he knew he was making the right decision.

“… Remember when we flew together on a cycle just like this? When you were ready to take flight just deca-cycles after hatching.”

“…”

“You were only twelve deca-cycles old, but were flying sparratically as if you were this full grown ferocious beast.” Remembering how that went, it made him lightly chuckle when Prince would play hide and seek with him by hiding in the clouds. And took him joors to always find him because he never wanted to leave the skies.

“Heh heh… you were so small that it felt like being pelted by stones every time you flew right at me.”

“…”

Predaking looked to Prince and saw that they kept flying inches farther away from him than before. He took that as a queue to stop trying to make small talk.

�� — —

Before they knew it, they made it to the station.

Both of them headed towards the spacebridge that was to be used for Prince to get to Earth. It wasn’t long before the spacebridge came online, all powered up and ready for travel. Which signaled that Prince was now officially leaving the kingdom. That fact was sinking in more and more since before the flight here.

He just felt so powerless in his position, and he was staring at the glowing mass of energy before them. And Predaking took notice of how Prince was looking at that portal.

It was just the two of them in the room, and he could finally say a proper goodbye—to maybe tell his protégé to not get into too much trouble, to get along with their peers, to say to hi to Professor Boulder for him, or to tell him no matter what happens that he’ll care about him regardless of his behavior…

He tried to lay his oversized servo on Prince’s back to comfort him—

Prince immediately pulled himself away from Predaking.

…It took Predaking a klik to recover from the shock of Prince rejecting his kind gesture.

But it’s what Prince said to him after, that left Predaking at a loss for words…

Turning his head half way to look back at Predaking, they had a look of disgust across their face. With their fangs bared and voice full of disdain, he looked Predaking in the optic and told him—

“I hate you.”

And with that said, Prince turned to the spacebridge and walked straight into it.

Never looking back to see the hurt look that Predaking wore.

— — —

[ca-suffit]

U know, I dropped the show and only know whats happening on it through mutuals reblogging gifs now. Not necessarily because it's bad, it's actually really amazing and so much better than those old dusty books, but because I'm fucking tired of these racist cunts everywhere! I want to reblog some gifs or some funny posts or pics and I have to go through them clogging the tags with their bullshit racist takes and "book knowledge" or whatever.

And you bet that if you tell them that they are the ones pushing ppl away from the show they cry "but we're not! we're the good ppl! anyway don't let fandom ruin something u enjoy!" but they don't realize that yes, shitty fandoms ruins cool shit for ppl all the fucking time — happened to me before, happened to ppl I know too.

But u know what Ca, whatever — lets see if their little white fandom group of 10 ppl can keep this show on air for long and renewed for more seasons lol It will be funny to see how much they don't need us

I had a lot of hope that the show fandom would fix a lot of this but it just ended up getting worse (this is not show fan's fault, btw, I'm not trying to say that). I've barely been here with an account now and the hate I've had aimed at me has been crazy. It would be worse if ppl knew anything about me personally too. I've seen them do this to ppl over and over again, before the show and now. There's been a lot of rly great ppl they've run off. This would be a much bigger fandom if not for the constant cycles of bullying. It used to rly be just white women doing this, now it's a whole mixed race group who says racism is ok because I gave u permission to attack the "bad" ones, let's go after all the ppl who talk about race and are the "real" racists. are u fucking kidding me.

It is rly funny how they're so worried about viewership numbers while literally doing everything in their power to turn ppl off of engaging at all. A lot of these ppl are rly old too, like parents to p grown ass kids. grandparents even?? It's so gd cringe. I luv this show too but fuck I also don't rly gaf either tbh. I'm here because it gets white fandom to stfu a lot, they were getting rly out of line without someone hitting back, but this is exhausting. This all sucks so much and for what reason? Like rly what fucking reason. jfc.

[thisbetternotawakenanything]

First Lines

Thanks for the tag, @catherineflowers29

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

————————

1. We Can’t Get Past The Weather - Roman/Gerri

He’s in bed but he can’t sleep. Kendall is barraging his inbox with brain dumps that would usually ring alarm bells about his recreational activities, and Roman’s still kind of unpleasantly numb to it all in a way that feels…not quite deserved? He can’t be bothered replying, but hell - he can’t fucking sleep and he doesn’t want to take anything or even have a drink about that in case it compromises him tomorrow on his first day in the big chair, so he’ll read them all and hope he passes out from the effort.

2. Ariadne (The Labyrinth Song) - Roman/Gerri

Roman can’t believe it. Joint CEO, sharing the paper crown. It should feel like finally nutting after fucking for years, but instead it feels like - a Saturday. Is it Saturday?

3. No One Can Hear You Scream - Roman/Gerri

At last, it was dark and still, and Roman was alone.

He wondered if he’d ever been this tired in his whole fucking life, but knew if he closed his eyes here in the back of the car he’d just see the after-burn of the end of the universe - The water at dusk turned to ink, the bag glistening under the moonrise, pulling him down the steps to the unforgiving horizon of the tarmac.

4. Don’t Fuck Me In Front Of Me - Roman/Gerri

When it comes at last? The blade?

Of course Logan sends Roman, and of course Roman botches it, because it’s borrowed conviction. He still hasn’t learned what Gerri tried spoon-feeding him, and now as usual, she’s left in the mess. It’s his Father’s axe handed to him, and Roman can’t swing hard enough to make it clean.

It’s a fucking flesh wound.

5. Intersection - Roman/Gerri

“I need you”

It’s the right words at the right time - but is it the right voice? Roman’s not sure, even now that he’s chewing on it. It’s hot sliding down, it’s hard to swallow but he opens wide, wider, lets it drop down to his stomach, lets it settle like stones in his pockets.

Lets the water into his lungs.

It’s fucking nice to be needed.

6. Back In The Room - Roman/Gerri

“What have you got in your hands?”

The question echoing through Roman’s nightmares in the time after. His dick hadn’t worked since. Well. Except once.

Not because of… it had nothing to do with-

You know.

Her.

7. 5 Times Gerri Kellman Let Roman Roy In, And 1 Time She Didn’t - Roman/Gerri

Roman ran his hand along the dresser, up and over the elegant antique box, over last nights hastily discarded watches and jewellery all tangled together, and then around the weighty bottle of Number 5, smiling to himself at the stability of it all. Gerri had smelled the same for as long as he’d been old enough and close enough to consciously smell her, and the hint of it never failed to make his balls fizz. Carefully, he extracted her pearl pendant from his Rolex, and put the former back in its place, then he bent down to the cardboard box by his feet and collected a glossy watch box and one of the bottles of Creed he was currently cycling through, and fussed for a few moments arranging them next to Gerri’s Chanel until he was happy with the vignette.

8. Champagne Complications - Roman/Gerri

Roman was the first to get the messy news about Caroline’s husband, just as the year they’d buried Logan was turning over at last.

A stray Bollinger cork to the temple sent Peter toppling headfirst into the Balearic Sea, and unfortunately for him none of the escorts he’d employed to sing Auld Lang Syne were moonlighting as lifeguards, and so the chair sniffer met his briny end. Gerri naturally thought of her own husbands - the dead, divorced, and symbolic - and was glad to have dodged another round of matrimonial angst.

The clean-up would be simple.

9. Cumulonimbus- Roman/Gerri

If he could cum he’d be calmer, Roman was sure of it. It was just normal turbulence, nothing to worry about, a lifetime of private jets safely ferrying him between countries Dad basically owned should mean he didn’t need to be gripping the plush leather arm rest so hard, right? Don’t think about Buddy Holly. Or Aaliya. Or the Kennedys. Or - shut up shut up - only an hour more to Tokyo and then the true hell would begin, if they weren’t struck down by this fucking storm first.

10. Humpty Dumpty - Roman/Gerri, Gerri/Greg, Roman/Gerri/Greg (I’m sorry)

This was of course Roman’s fault. If he’d just signed the documents terminating his RoyCo-GoJo employment at his lawyer’s office like he was supposed to instead of making sneering (and admittedly amusing) jokes about them being the frozen yoghurt of media monopolies, Tom wouldn’t have sent Greg around to his place with them. Or perhaps it was Siobhan’s fault, for giving Roman’s key-code to Tom when they were still on speaking terms, so that Tom then gave it to Greg. Really, broadly speaking, everything was Logan Roy’s fault for not wanting his children to be real people, long ago refusing to instil the concept of boundaries lest they ever attempt one with him, thus leaving it up to people like Gerri who were better at… drawing lines - to clean up the results.

But blame could be more accurately portioned later, once Greg was no longer doing such a convincing impression of an oxygen deprived giraffe, and once Roman stopped trying to curse him out from underneath her.

[tracle0]

hi hi Trade, I am here because I simply Must know more about Elan immediately please and thank you (also do you have any tunes for him? just by the look of him n his vibe I feel like he'd have some bangers) mwah ok bye

:D HELLO

I'm tagging @khufiya-khaufnak-antariksh here as well cause you both asked about Elan and I figured I'd just babble a lil about them to both of you here, hello, thank you for your interest!!!

Okay okay okay Elan issssss yeah! A fucking mess, basically! They, they, they. Hmm. HMMM!

They're basically the result of a fun kidnapping and testing that was executed on a wide number of colour mages. Elan semi-volunteered for it, with zero intention of actually taking part, and then took part anyway. Sucks to be them.

I don't know an awful lot about the actual process, but the general aim of it was to see how much colour could be taken from a mage before they. Yknow. Fucking died. Which for most people was alarmingly far! Strip magic away and see how deep this colourlessness can go.

Alas, most of the people fucking died before anything truly interesting could happen. But but but! Elan did! Not! For various reasons I'm keeping disclosed, they were full of spite and rage and Vengence and decided actually, you know, I'm not gonna die, I'm gonna take this white you're pumping me full of and just. Harness that, thank you very much. Reject the magic you were born with and embrace this synthetic model instead.

Basically, edge 14-year-old brain went 'teehee evil science experiment character :)))?' and I went oh HELL yeah!

Elan is the kinda guy who likes gardening :)! Lil gardener fella! They've got a section of BigBad's base wardened off for Just Them, where they have a little living area and a big garden, where they spend most of their time, chilling out, feeling At Peace, crushing any sliver of green that starts to edge into any stalks or leaves. It is a petrified garden. It could not survive without them. They love it dearly. Sometimes, when they get overwhelmed or frustrated, they smash it and sob in its remains until it's replaced and they start the cycle over again.

They also stand as one of the first characters of mine where I looked at them and decided they wanted to be in a lil relationship, which is nice and good for them! Less good for them that it's, uh, with the. BigBad. The woman who funded and dictated the research that made them Like This.

The relationship is very much a. Toxic one. Power struggles between the two, knowing full well they've hurt each other badly and still coming back for more. By the end of the first book, they quite literally stab her in the back and ease her into her death, all romantic style.

Mmmm despite how things have been phrased, I think Elan does quite like being a White. They want more people to be White so they can understand how things are, how they should be. Very obsessed with perfection and cleanliness and purity. Bleached as many pigments out of themselves as they possibly could, and still finds the red of their blood to be grating.

I have exactly one (2) songs that vibes for them at the moment which I think you know both of, Monday? Tis 'The Quittin' Kind' by Eleisha Eagle and 'Pretty Little Head' by Eliza Rickman. Both vibe with the more toxic part of their relationship with the BigBad. Who has no name. Pretend she does.

Okay that's it! Bye! Thank you!

[bugbyte]

1062 Days

I had a pretty terrible doctor’s appointment yesterday and have been kind of cycling through a million feelings about it like some kind of unhinged unicycle. (No, I cannot ride a unicycle.) Anyway, if you missed yesterday’s panic posting, the pain people kind of went “oh well” and shoved me off to the MMJ people, which is fine, except costly and not covered by insurance and I am broke. I did receive a Ko-Fi donation that should theoretically cover a chunk of whatever the appointment costs and the amount of relief I am feeling right now is enormous, so thank you, anon donor. One way or another I’m going to figure this out, which is far more hope than I had when I started today. I woke up, wide awake, at 6 am this morning, having a panic attack because I felt like I’d just been condemned to a life of never being able to do or experience anything ever again, but now I feel like there’s a chance.

We’ve been driving back and forth to a city about an hour away to deal with all of this stuff because there seem to be a lot more specialists there (it’s through a university hospital, which has been a really good experience primarily, except for the pain people? wtf) and an hour isn’t that bad in the scheme of things. Anyway, it gives me way too much time to think, and after yesterday I started counting days since all of this started going downhill for me (thank you Siri for doing the math) and yesterday it was 1061 days. Today it’s 1062. I’m just flabbergasted that it’s been that many days and I’m just supposed to go home and make dinner and pretend everything is fine. This is how my brain works: I want to put data to things, I want to turn that into a visualization because I feel like no one ever understands the words coming out of my mouth. I’m thinking about making some kind of animated visualization of how much time that is, how much loss it is over time, because that’s how I process I guess. Or maybe some kind of video essay about it. I don’t think people who aren’t directly experiencing (or living with/caring for/close friends with) chronic pain really understand what a grieving process it is. I feel like I have no sense of time anymore, because all the days are pain.

Anyway.

Doing a read more here for some slightly unpleasant-er medical stuff, so please check the tags if you think it may bother you to read.

This week is a gauntlet of multiple things because it’s just how it fell. If you are lucky enough (and I hope you are) that you aren’t dealing with medical stuff on a regular basis, you might not know how overtaxed everyone is now and how ridiculously hard it is to get an appointment anywhere, for anything. A while ago we made a rule around here to not schedule back to back appointment days because it’s really physically demanding for me, but when you have no choice but to schedule things months out…sometimes you don’t get a choice, and it’s awful. I’m paying for it today after two days of this, in stress and physical testing and sitting in a car for long stretches. Anyway, that sucks.

But at least today was a much more positive experience than yesterday, in a number of ways. Somehow in this entire year of tests and visits and drugs and whatever, this is somehow the very first time I’m actually seeing a neurologist, which was pretty interesting and revealing. In this whole time no one has noticed how flimsy my ankles are, and somehow I never think to talk about it because I just basically walk on eggshells all the time trying not to injure myself by…walking. But today it got noticed, and maybe that’s something I can press someone to do something about. Before my health turned into a flaming car wreck I used to run marathons and I do not know how I did this. I feel like I got away with something I shouldn’t have.

So one of the most interesting bits of today, which relates to some past stuff I’ve written about and haven’t talked about more because it’s all kinda in flux still, is even more genetic testing. The first one was a whole panel looking for connective tissue disorders (spoiler alert: they found something weird, it’s just not what anyone expected, and I get to talk to somebody and find out more next year lol) and now we’re checking out a different but more specific gene for a type of muscular dystrophy, which might also explain some of the issues I have. Essentially: I’m a huge mess and my body is crumbling and it would probably be prudent to start weeding out which problems are caused by which weirdness. Exciting! I got to talk it out with a genetic counselor (again) and a student, which was cool, because I like being able to contribute some of my weird physiology to their knowledge so hopefully they can help somebody else like me in the future. I got to opt-in to putting my genes up for (anonymized) research, which I was also pretty excited about because I’ve got the weird in me and hopefully it can help somebody. I like chatting with folks like this, I am enthusiastic about research and improving treatments and it’s nice to feel like I’m contributing something from this whole mess. Genetics as a whole is really interesting to me, I’ve been reading a ton on it since my first outing getting tested and there’s so much possibility for improving peoples’ lives if we just knew a little bit more. In another life, where I’m not squeamish about blood and am good at math, I like to think I’d have gotten into genetics. I have feelings about it.

The cool part of this is they were able to do the testing right on the spot this time. I still have to wait a while on results, but I didn’t have to go through any approvals or waiting for test kits or anything. No, instead I just got stabbed several times for blood. I used to be petrified of needles and I still feel pretty bleh about it but I guess that’s the equivalent of exposure therapy or something. The poor nurse today was not a good needler but she was really nice and tried really hard so I can’t be upset about it. I did get stuck in the dang hand, though, which is my absolute least favorite place to get stabbed. Ugh. Weirdly, my opposite hand is also aching like ME TOO and I’m like NO, NOT “YOU TOO” but here we are. At the beginning of the year I started keeping a needle count for myself because somehow it helps mentally to know how many times I’ve done this, and so as of today it’s 22 for the year but it’s probably going to be more before 2024. Getting over it has made me start thinking about getting a tattoo someday, though. I know it’s a different process and sensation probably, but it was always the stabby bit that put me off in the past. I want to get my cat’s paw prints done on my leg, in the spot where he used to put his feet when he sat with me while I was having a bad pain day. One day I’ll get there.

Anyway, I feel like I learned a lot today and got to sign off on contributing a little of myself to science, which is a good feeling. And it was really nice to deal with people who were actually compassionate as well as excited about their work. Makes up a little bit for the bad day I had yesterday.

Gauntlet week continues. Hope you’re all well out there. Working on being a little more well in here, too.

[thesparklingwriter]

millenia precede us

“Let’s play a game,” You say. “Whoever finds the other first wins a prize.”

tags: reincarnation au, fem!reader, reader is part adeptus, inspired by this ask from aine

word count: 3k (apologies for this monster of a fic)

ao3 link | taglist | masterlist

Zhongli dreams of you again. For the first time in centuries, he sees your face, your smile, your laugh. The dreams had first started when he was young—or young by archon standards. He’d drifted off to sleep one night, and woke up entirely occupied by the face of someone he’d never met before, by the smell of something he was sure he’d never smelt in his lifetime.

He’d found comfort in seeing you—in listening to you talk in a language he didn’t yet understand, wearing clothes he hadn’t seen before. You’d come for a few years, and then disappear, only to reappear later, wearing something different, speaking in a different language. Your smile never seemed to change.

The two of you could never truly communicate either—your shared dreamscape was simple, a park in the height of autumn, a small picnic blanket on the floor. There, you’d snack on whatever was laid out on the blanket and try your bests to communicate however you could. Most times, however, you’d cuddle up to each other and sit in silence, watching the way the landscape changed.

He’d always known that you’d come back. He hoped that you’d come back. But you’d been gone for so long that he began to fear that your reincarnation cycle had ended, that he’d never get to meet you in real life.

“Hello,” you smile. Zhongli can barely reply to you—hes so stunned that he can understand you, that he can recognise the clothes you’re wearing and the floral scent you always carried with you. Glaze lilies. That’s what it was. “First time here?” You ask kindly. Zhongli stares at you before clearing his throat.

“No.” he replies. You seem confused, but sit yourself down on the blanket and run your hands over the copper-coloured silk. “I’ve met you a few times.” He says, lowering himself to sit beside you.

“A few times?” You say quietly. “I recognise your voice, the way you smell, but not your face. Is that how this is supposed to be?”

Zhongli is ashamed to admit that he doesn’t know. As far as he knows, he was the first to experience anything like this, and slowly others began to too, until it became commonplace for people across Teyvat. Something he or the other archons did must have made this happen, but none of them had any clue what it could be.

“I’m not sure,” Zhongli replies, shifting himself so that he’s not so close to you, for fear of making you uncomfortable. You notice him shifting away and close the gap yourself, resting your head against his shoulder the way you did when you first met all those centuries ago. “Not much is known about the dreamscapes.” he says.

“How long have you been able to visit?” You ask, looking up at him.

Zhongli is torn between lying, or gracing you with the truth. “A number of years,” He says finally and you look at him with wide eyes.

“How much older than me are you?” You ask. Zhongli looks at you, again torn as to what he should say. The truth is always better, especially in situations like this, but the truth may also be too much to handle.

“I’m an adeptus,” he decides this is a better course of action. “I’m older than I appear.” You don’t seem as surprised by this as he expected—in fact, you don’t seem to have a problem with it at all.

“My mum’s an adeptus, this isn’t new to me.” You smile. “Anyway, what’s your name?”

“Zhongli,” He says. You say his name under your breath, resting the words on your tongue. Zhongli looks at you in wonder, at the way you take this all in your stride. You ask him questions and he responds, and you don't seem to miss a beat. He reckons he could tell you everything, the whole truth, and you probably wouldn't even flinch.

It’s strange to you, the way he already seems so comfortable. How long has he truly known you for? And how is that even possible? But even despite your thoughts, you know Teyvat is place a where the most random things can happen, and you know you won’t find the answer you seek without asking him. But you'd like to enjoy his presence, so you decide to pack it in for the time being. “You don’t have any questions for me?” You ask him, tilting your head slightly.

“Not necessarily, no.” He smiles. “I’ve learned to know you fairly well, though you might not remember our past encounters.”

“That’s sweet,” you reply, sitting up. You sigh as the beautiful landscape begins to fade and you sense yourself waking up. How unfair, you think to yourself. It feels like I've barely had five minutes with him. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll be looking out for you when I’m out. Bye, Zhongli.”

Zhongli stays seated once you leave, staring out into the middle distance. He sighs. He never got your name.

You sit up in bed, head pounding. It’s still pitch black outside, but your alarm continues to ring incessantly as you pull yourself out of bed and get ready for a day at the office. A new publishing company has begun shipping its books to Liyue and it’s your job to read through as many of them as you can and provide thorough and honest reviews. The only problem with this is that they aren’t really the kind of books you usually read. If anything, they’re the exact opposite of the Liyuean fiction you’re used to reviewing.

As you read, your mind drifts to Zhongli, the way he’d looked at you as if you were coming home to him, as if you were familiar. And it scares you—the fact that somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you know him, but can't place your finger on it. A stranger shouldn't feel familiar.

“Everything going okay?” Your coworker lets herself into your office, smiling brightly. “I heard you got lumped with the Inazuman erotica. How’s that going?”

You sigh, placing the book down. It’s not like you were truly going to get to the end of it anyway, with your mind so focused on the way Zhongli smiled at you with such fondness.

“Oh, it’s going, alright,” You sigh, leaning back in your seat. “I just never know what to expect next, if I’m honest. Did you know there’s a whole book that’s just about a dragon?”

“Dragon…erotica?” Your coworker asks, glancing dangerously at the pile of books on your desk.

“Sorry, half dragon, half-qilin. I should be more specific.” You run your hands through your hair. “I’ve been avoiding that one like the plague.”

“Isn’t your deadline in like three weeks?”

“Don’t remind me.” You say, standing up to shoo them out of your office. “It will be the last thing I read. A final hurrah of sorts. Now get out.”

Over the next few days, finishing work for the day is a much more exciting event than it usually is. You know that the minute you hit the hay, Zhongli is likely going to be there. He goes to bed early so it seems like he’s always waiting for you in his shared dreamscape.

“You know,” You say, resting your head on his shoulder. A lake suddenly appeared in the dreamscape and you’ve taken to watching the koi as they dance around each other in the glistening water. “Why don’t you just tell me where to find you? Make this easier on both of us.”

Zhongli chuckles. “I could do that, yes. But it would be rude of me to send you on a wild goose chase across Liyue. It would be easier if you just told me where to find you.”

“As if.” You scoff, getting up to dip your hands in the lake and feel the fish brush past you. You’d named them over the last few days: Ai for the fish with heart-shaped scales, Lian for the fish who was easily startled, and Gan for the fish that seemed to protect it. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m sure you can identify the hypocrisy in your own statement.” Zhongli says.

“Let’s play a game,” You say. “Whoever finds the other first wins a prize.”

“And that prize is…?”

“A secret. What do you say, Zhongli? Up for it?”

Zhongli looks at you in awe and mild frustration. He always knew that you enjoyed problem-solving and a good challenge, which was clear by the way you used to try and find ways to communicate with him all those years ago, but he never expected this. Either way, he nods, listens dutifully to your rules (three clues each and no cheating by asking for each other by name) and agrees to your terms. That is, not that you gave him much of a choice in the matter.

And thus the game begins. The three clues you give him are mean—you work ‘normal’ hours, you like to read, and you spend a lot of time near the harbour. It doesn’t really narrow down much for him, but he humours you anyway, giving you his three clues in return. Arguably, his are even worse than yours—they’re riddles that seemed to have no connection to him whatsoever. As you try to accuse him of unfair play, you feel yourself stirring awake, and instead swear you’ll call him out on it on a later date.

Of course, you didn’t expect that you’d be seeing him so little over the coming weeks.

As your deadline pulls closer and you begin to pull more all-nighters to try and finish reviewing all the books that have been sent to you, you spend so little time sleeping that by the time you’re deep enough in sleep to reach the dreamscape, your alarm goes off and you’re dragged back into the real world.

“Mr Zhongli, are you alright?” After a week of watching Zhongli descend more and more into a worrying state, Hu Tao realises that she has to speak up. “You haven't been yourself lately. Do you have too much work?”

“I’m quite alright. I’m simply concerned for an acquaintance of mine.” Zhongli says, snapping out of his daze, and swiping imaginary dust off his blazer. “It’s not something to worry yourself about.”

Hutao dutifully ignores the last past of his sentence, seating herself on the other side of his desk. His office is always spotless, ready for a customer to come in at any time. That being said, he seems to get more menial questions from history buffs than paying patrons.

“Now, Mr Zhongli. I’m going to give this to you straight. You’re a loner. And I’m very curious as to where this friend has spawned from. So talk.”

Zhongli chuckles. It’s not the first time he’s been told that he essentially has no friends, for it was improbable that his adepti friends would be open to meeting in the harbour. “She is an old friend.” Zhongli says.

“‘She’?” Hutao gasps, jumping up from her seat. “Oh, this is great. You have a crush on her, don’t you? This is why you’ve been in such an odd mood recently.”

“I really do dislike you sometimes,” Zhongli says quietly, as Hutao begins her incessant teasing. “It is difficult to explain, so please do not ask that of me.”

“Fine, fine.” She returns to the seat. “Well, let’s go find her. Then you can stop being worried, and I can see her for myself.”

“That may prove difficult.” Zhongli says, rising from his desk. “But I suppose the task will be easier with your help.”

You sneeze lightly as you finish the review of your penultimate book. You’re running on two hours of sleep, three coffees, and the hope that when this is done, you can finally get to finding Zhongli again. No matter how much pay your boss offers you, you won’t accept a job like this again. No way.

You glance at the final book with a glare. Why someone decided to write erotica about the archon of a nation they didn’t even belong to was beyond you. Furthermore, you really didn't feel like trudging through thousands of misconceptions, concessions in knowledge of Liyue’s customs, and of course the blatant blasphemy. And you definitely aren’t going to do it in this office.

Taking the book and a newfound sense of dread, you walk out of the office, tell the receptionist that you’re going to find somewhere nice to read the book and find yourself strolling along Liyue Harbour in search of a nice bench. You haven’t had the time to walk around like this since you started your job a year ago, and it’s crazy how much things have changed. You look around some of the stalls before asking one of the stall owners whether they know any relaxing places to sit and read.

“A koi fish pond has just been installed. Apparently it’s a symbol of friendship between Inazuma and Liyue.” She says to you. “It’s just along there, you can’t miss it.”

You thank her gratefully, following her directions before arriving there. It looks exactly like the one in your shared dreamscape, shiny silver rocks around the border and clear teal water. Even the fish look the same, and you kneel down at the pond to look at them, one jumps out of the water, almost to greet you.

“Hello, Ai,” you say softly. “I have no food for you today.” The fish jumps back into the water, disappointed by the lack of food, and you rise to your feet, getting comfortable on the opposite bench to read the book. Sitting here like this makes you miss Zhongli. With your sleep schedule being so messed up the past few weeks, you never truly get to see him anymore. This is the closest you’ve felt to him in days. And maybe it’s your own fault for suggesting you play that silly game, maybe it’s your own fault for being afraid of what would happen if you finally met, but you’re tired of the torture. Next time you catch him in the dreamscape, you’re going to tell him how to find you.

The sun beats down on you as you read, and paired with the caffeine that’s slowly draining out of your system, you slowly feel your eyes start to close. It’s not the book’s fault—it’s certainly not bad as you expected, but when you’re this tired, there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“We should start at koi fish pond,” Hutao says excitedly, as she drags Zhongli along the harbour.

“Why?”

“It’s new. I’m sure it would have garnered her interest.” She says. “And I've never had a chance to look at it.”

“I should have known better than to allow you to recruit yourself to this task,” Zhongli says. “No matter, let us go and look at the pond.”

Zhongli remembers your love for the koi pond in the dreamscape, so whilst Hutao’s suggestion may have been selfish, it wasn’t the worst possible idea. He remembers the way you named the fish, fed them with care and watched them with unleashed curiosity and joy. Even if he didn’t find you there, he would be happy to just relish in the memories of you for a while.

“What’s all that commotion at the pond?” Hutao says. Zhongli snaps out of his daze, looking up at the Millelith crouching beside the bench, his spear flat against the floor. “Miss, are you alright?” The man asks, tentatively reaching out with the intention to shake her awake.

Hutao drags him closer to the scene, ignoring the way he seems to resist her.

“Miss, are you alright?” The Millelith repeats, and the woman he’s waking up sits up slowly. Zhongli can’t believe his eyes.

“Archons, I need to finish reading that book.” You mumble, thanking the man for waking you up with a slight smile, and almost instantly burning your face back into it.

Zhongli makes no effort to move towards you, overwhelmed by seeing you in real life for the first time. The version he sees of you in dreams doesn’t even do the real you justice—in real life, you’re so much brighter and striking. Your voice is something he could listen to for hours. You’re so perfect and he feels that if moves any closer, he’ll find that it’s all an illusion, a cruel trick his mind is playing on him.

“You are aware that it’s creepy to stare at people, yes?” Hutao says lightly. And Zhongli nods, slowly walking up to you, your name on his lips.

Your book falls to the floor as you look up at him. “Zhongli?” Your body moves before you mind can and you pull him into a hug. He’s real and he’s here and you can smell him and hold him and archons, he feels like home. You pull away to look at his face, to commit every single pore of his skin to memory. He’s real. “What are you doing here? How did you find me? What’s going on?”

Zhongli smiles. “You’re just as perfect as I remember.”

“Even when I’m falling asleep on a park bench?” You grin, running a hand over the back of his head.

“Especially when you’re asleep on a park bench.”

You roll your eyes, pulling him into a kiss. “You have terrible taste.”

“Perhaps,” He says, gently stroking your face with his cheek. “But in that instance, so do you.”

© 2023, thesparklingwriter. please do not copy, edit, repost, or translate.

notes: omg so i didn't mean to make this so long and i am absolutely confused as to how i got this many words. im so sure i blacked out somewhere in the middle and ended up with 3x the amount of words i usually aim for lmfaoo. anyway everyone thank ainecause if it wasn't for her you would not have this monster of a fic xoxo taglist: @ainescribe @thelonelyarchon @aixaingela @medusuu

(coloured @s couldn't be tagged)