#scribbles ✒️

[tokusaatsus]

“You should be more aware of your surroundings, Tsukasa~kun.” You tease, carefully balancing the salver of papers in one hand and the Suou Seal in the other.

If any of the Suou Household’s servants could see you now, they’d probably keel over and die on the spot at your casual behaviour and address to their beloved bocchama. “The Suou Seal is kind of a big deal…should you really be leaving it with someone like me?”

“Of course! Who else could I trust, if not for my loyal Knight?”

[habitual-creatures]

H3 D3S3RV3D 3V3RYTHING I DID AND M0R3.

I've never seen you get that cold blooded since.

I W0ULD'V3 D0N3 TH3 SAM3 T0 SM0K3. AND Y0U KN0W I'LL D0 TH3 SAM3 T0 THAT SPINDLY FUCK 0NC3 I FIGUR3 0UT H0W.

*Jo walks away from the door, closing it and going into the kitchen* How you likin' those journals, Roger?

~🕕/✒️📖

Aside from having some issues with your handwriting sometimes, a lot. This is like- WOW, yknow?

This is just- yeah, it's awesome.

[so2uv]

ah it’s fine i’m posting his profile probably tmr anyways so i’m just going to give basic details rn TW blood, death

ok so shun liu! uh he’s 22 years old, a somewhat struggling university student, a very in the closet bisexual, and 5’10

he can see ghosts which is the easy part to describe when it comes to his powers. the other part not so much. basically, whenever he falls asleep, he ends up having visions of the people who will die the next day/in the morning. usually the people he dreams about are people he’s interacted with. not close with, but interacted with (ex. talking to them or having the other person talk to him)

it’s sort of multiple visions a night? think of a film, and the film is flipping quickly through the key moments in the movie. that’s what his visions are like. he sees the exact moment of their death. (ex. when the car hits or when the knife sinks into the skin for the killing blow)

usually he views all of these from and outsider perspective. he can’t touch, can’t speak, can’t do anything when in the visions except for hear, see, and smell.

however, there are occasions where shun will take on the pov of the person who is getting killed. in those moments, he’s unable to control his own body movements and still cannot speak with his own voice. but, he feels every emotion that’s running through the person’s body during this moment. these visions are lengthier and are more of a rare occurrence. (he doesn’t know that these visions mean that he’s close with the person)

visions can sometimes be activated by touch but they aren’t full on. they mostly include flashes of sound, smell, and sometimes, a flicker of what will kill the person

oh and magic isn’t exactly welcomed in this universe. but shun considers himself lucky, because hey, others have it way worse with hiding their gifts, so he shouldn’t be so sulky about his own abilities

[not-someones-shadow]

Someone hands scribble a little cup of vanilla ice cream

She tastes a tiny bit, then a lot, then some more. Now she has a brain freeze.

[tainted-be-the-light]

Bright snow covers the world, Buries the world's woes, Hides all sorrows

[resurrectionist3]

Timex

Daniel Cleaver x fem!Reader (18+)

✒️ - 12/25/2024 🔏 - 01/08/2025

⏳ - 5,563 words

⚠️CW - 18+ NSFW, oral stimulation (p in mouth), no p in v (yet), general smut, Daniel Cleaver and his sliminess (his presence deserves a warning)

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

📜 - A fairly new hire is getting ready for a very important meeting at her job as the co editor in chief at Pemberley Press. To her surprise, she seems to have lost her favorite wristwatch.

At work, she manages to find it ... on the desk of her most insufferable colleague.

Author's Note - First fan fiction posted to Tumblr, I cannot believe it's for this man. It is actually inspired by the fact that I lost my favorite watch just before Christmas - don't ask how my brain decided to write a fan fiction because of it. I did manage to find it while I wrote this so, that's a win for me. Yes, Frankie is inspired by Francis Abernathy from The Secret History. And yes, the presence of an author named Miles Finch does indeed imply that this fan fiction and this version of Daniel Cleaver do exist in the same universe as the 2003 Christmas comedy film, Elf, starring Will Ferrel. Our beloved Mr. Reed will be here soon, I promise. But I fear I must get this freak out of my system before I can focus on the other one.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

“Chilly morning in London today, with a high of 4 degrees and a low of -1° tonight! Expect light flurries this evening with-” The cheerful English news reporter said in his routine chatter about the weather forecast. I poured out a decent serving of cat food for my sweet Argo and sat down to my own breakfast. Turning down the television volume and opening my work notebook, I reviewed the notes from the previous day regarding today’s very important meeting, with a very important author. 

I furrowed my brows as I read the author’s scribbled name, Miles Finch, trying to remember where else I had heard of him outside of work. 

My eyes drifted lower on the page to a different name that I had written down - one that made my heart race and my cheeks blush. Daniel Cleaver, my insufferably attractive colleague and co-editor in chief at Pemberley Press. Our boss, Mr. Fitzherbert, thought it would be some wonderful idea for us to work together preparing for this meeting; the loyal employee of several years teaching the new hire ‘all the way from Boston, Massachusetts’. Weeks spent working a little too closely with Daniel, all leading up to today. To be completely honest, it took its toll on me. One can only take so much of him and his arrogance. 

And his smile … his eyes … his voice … his-

“Ugh,” I caught my mind wandering and stopped, nearly choking on my morning coffee. “Enough of that, (y/n).” I said to myself as I stood from the table. 

I carefully chose a CD to play while I got dressed, settling on one burned by my friend back home. The first song, some obscure 80s pop tune, filled my room as I made my way to the closet. 

“Miniskirt and blouse,” I pondered out loud, pulling the outfit from the rack. “Or, black suit dress?”

Eyeing both choices, I tried to decide which outfit would warrant the best response during the meeting. I looked again at the miniskirt momentarily, blushing as I recalled the … effect it seemed to have on my intolerable associate when I last wore it. 

The way Daniel eyed me that entire day was undeniable. I had been rather used to his stares after 6 months of working with him, but that was different. The way he bit his lip as those icy blue eyes wandered to places they definitely shouldn’t…

“No,” I said quickly, dropping the skirt onto my bed. “Absolutely no distractions today. Suit dress it is.”

After finishing my outfit and makeup, I only had a few minutes before I had to leave. I gathered my things, listing off everything important: ‘notebook, car keys, bag, coat, scarf…’

I prattled off  my belongings in my head as I stopped at my vanity one last time. ‘Necklace, rings, wristwatch-’ I named each item as I put it on, but-

‘Wristwatch…?’  I froze mid-list as I realized my favorite watch was nowhere in sight. I opened every drawer, brows furrowed as I searched all over the apartment. I thought of anywhere it could possibly be, and yet, still nothing. 

I stopped and sighed at the new mess I had made in my hunt. Clothes and jewelry strewn over my unmade bed after my unceremonious rummage around. 

‘I wore it yesterday.. I remember that,’  I thought to myself, stood amongst the disarray. ‘Then.. where did it go afterwards?' 

Figuring it would be easily found on my desk at work,  I relented. I took all my things and left the apartment, throwing on my scarf and coat once inside the elevator. 

In the car, my mind drifted back to the watch. After earning this perfect job at Pemberley, I bought anything I wanted. Expensive jewelry, designer clothes, a new car - even my fancy apartment in London after relocating. I could probably buy 7 of the same basic black and gold Timex watch, but this one was special to me. 

“I’m being quite honest, Frankie, I can't find it anywhere,” I sigh over the phone to my best friend. “I looked all over my apartment, all over my work desk, even asked our security guard if he’d seen it. I fear it’s gone.” I slouched a little in my desk chair as I came to my upsetting realization. 

“Please, (y/n), it’s not that serious. It’s a small thing, I’ll buy you a new one if you like.” Frankie said, his voice as cool and unconcerned as always. Franklin Arkwright; assistant to the CEO of our partner publishing company back home in Boston. He was my oldest friend, and the one who managed to get me the job at Pemberley in the first place. 

I stood from my chair and paced about my office, the phone cord pulling as I walked around my desk. “It’s not just a small thing, Frankie. You know how much I love that watch, and I don't enjoy losing my belongings.” My hand went to my (y/hc) hair as I sighed again. I turned around, going to the opposite side of the room when I accidentally locked eyes with him. 

Daniel Cleaver’s office sat inconveniently right beside mine, both spaces walled completely with floor to ceiling glass (I preferred more privacy myself, but the sleek and modern look was just so in these days).

My heart quickened for a moment, sending a strange pulse through my chest as his blue eyes met mine, a smirk appearing on his face. I managed a smile back as he waved, still talking to whoever was on his own phone. He eyed me up and down as he always did, his gaze lingering on my choice of dress; the dress that I suddenly realized had such a low neckline. 

I scoffed and looked away from his irritating stares, my eyes moving to his desk instead. Frankie continued on in my ear about something his mother had said as I scanned the organized mess of Daniel’s workspace. Stacked papers and folders, pens and pencils, a paper coffee cup, my watch, a stapler-

My watch?

My eyes widened at the undeniable sight of my wristwatch sitting on the desk of none other than Daniel fucking Cleaver. The black leather wristband and gold rimmed clock face was recognizable even from where I stood. I looked back up to him as he paced about his own office, talking away on his phone. He seemed either unaware that it was there, or he at least didn't care. 

'How on earth did it get there?’ I thought to myself as I wracked my brain, finally remembering yesterday’s encounter. 

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

In the meeting room, Daniel leaned against the long table as I went over my checklist for a final time. “Right, the presentation is finished, I wrote up my little spiel. Do you have yours ready, Cleaver?” I asked and instantly rolled my eyes as I caught him staring where he shouldn’t. Again. 

“Yes, yes, (y/ln), I’ll get on that straight away,” He said briskly, reluctantly meeting my eyes. I could tell he was very distracted, and likely hadn’t heard a word that I said. 

“Daniel, please just know that if you fuck up this meeting and make a fool of me, I will have your head for it.” I said in a casual voice, returning to my written list.

“Noted. Thank you, (y/ln)” Daniel responded coolly. I caught his eyes wandering again and shot him a glare. Perhaps he felt bad for not listening to me, or more than likely, he was trying to play off his stares as he leaned off the table and walked closer. 

“You know, (y/n), I never noticed how nice your watch is,” He said, tilting his head as he looked at the clock on my wrist. “I think I like it.”

 I furrowed my brows at his out-of-place comment and looked at him skeptically. “Well, I do wear it everyday, Daniel. How have you not mentioned it before?” Daniel just shrugged in response, eyes still on my wrist. 

“The gold suits you quite nicely,” He said pensively, almost as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud. Daniel gently reached out for my hand, and asked for a closer look. Confused, I set down my notebook and pen, taking the watch from my wrist. Our hands brushed momentarily as I set the watch in his palm, making my heart skip annoyingly. As he examined it, I went back to my list and finished going over everything for tomorrow. 

Before I could say another word to Daniel, Mr. Fitzherbert had entered and asked for me. The last thing I remembered was taking my notebook and pen, and hurrying out - leaving my favorite watch with Daniel. Fucking. Cleaver. 

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

“(y/n)...? (Y/N)??” Frankie repeated over the phone, taking me out of my memory. “Are you still there, babe?” 

I let out a laugh and took a breath as I realized I was still on the phone with him. “Y-yea, I’m still here, Frankie.. But I think I should go. I, uhm, I found my watch.”

Without another word, I said goodbye and hung up the phone. Daniel had also finished his own phone call and was standing by the window, reading some documents. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose as I contemplated actually going over there. After all, it IS just a watch. But, it was still my favorite one. 

I readjusted my dress and made my way to Daniel’s office, entering politely. “Afternoon, Mr. Cleaver,” I said with the nicest smile I could manage. “Today’s the day! Big meeting with Miles Finch. I hope you’re ready!” 

Daniel flashed me a smile - that terribly charming smile of his. “Good afternoon to you, Miss (y/ln). To what do I owe this lovely intrusion?” 

From the look he gave me I could tell, he knew what I was there for.  My eyes went from him to my watch, sat right on his desk beside his computer, almost displayed like some kind of trophy. I lost my fake smile and relaxed, crossing my arms. “I’m here to see if you're prepared. And to take my watch back; I’ve been looking for it all morning.” 

Daniel looked confused and taken aback by my statement. “Your watch..? (y/ln), you must be barking, I don’t have your watch.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him and walked towards his desk. I wasn’t in any mood for his games today. “Yes, Daniel. This watch, it’s mine.” I reached out to take it, just as he bent over the desk and picked it up himself. 

“Oh, this watch? Odd, what is it doing here? Are you sure it’s yours?” Daniel said while he examined it just like he did the day prior. I rolled my eyes at him and his antics. 

“Yesterday.. The meeting room? You asked to see it and then I had to go.” I recalled briefly, still irritated with his little act. “I really have been looking for it all morning, I’ve been worried half to death.” 

Daniel’s eyes widened in fake shock. “Half to death? God, (y/ln), it’s just a watch,” He said, turning it over in his hands. “Why do you wear it everyday? It's a bit worse for wear, isn't it? Scratches in the glass here, creasing in the wristband. And, oh dear, is that a crack? Surely, they pay you enough to buy a nicer one.” 

I glared at him from the other side of his desk and huffed in anger. “It’s very special to me, Daniel. My dear friend, Frankie, gave it to me before I left home to move here. It used to belong to him; he knew I loved it so much,” I stopped myself and sighed. Something told me that it was futile to try and explain the emotional value of a wristwatch to someone like Daniel Cleaver. “It’s .. sentimental. Perhaps you’d understand if you had friends of your own, now I’d like to have it back please.” 

The emphasis on my statement didn't seem to matter as Daniel just smiled to himself and looked back at my watch. “How dare you presume to know the status of my personal friendships,” He said after taking a gasp of fake offence. 

I held my hand out for him to give the watch back, a silent plea for him to end this ridiculous nonsense. But to my confusion and irritation, instead of offering it back, he pulled back his sleeve and put it on. “You know, I think I'll hold onto it for you. Just for today, what do you think, (y/ln)?” 

It was my turn to be taken aback now. “What, no- Cleaver, just give it to me,” I said, my already thin patience running thinner. “This isn’t grade school, what are we, confiscating each other’s belongings now..?” 

Daniel said nothing as he walked around his desk and stopped in front of me - a little too close for a colleague. “You can come back and collect it at the end of the day. Stay later tonight.. If you want it back, then you’ll know where to find me, hmm?” He said, his voice patronizing. Yet, quiet and … suggestive. He was so close, I could smell his cologne - a familiar fragrance from Jo Malone. He lifted his hand and I held my breath, ready for him to do something deranged, like brush back my hair or caress my cheek. Hell, he was close enough to lean in for a kiss.

 Instead, he looked over my shoulder at my watch on his wrist to check the time. “Well look at that.. It’s time to meet Miles Finch,” Daniel said with a quick smile as he stepped back to his desk to pick up some documents. According to the clock on his wall, he was right - ten minutes until 3pm. A few people from different departments even walked by Daniel’s office and into the elevator, clearly on their way to the meeting room. 

Daniel walked past me quickly and I followed behind to retrieve my own things from my office, just as he stopped and turned back.

“Hot dress, by the way, (y/ln),” He started, making my cheeks blush red. “With a neckline that low, I’m sure you won’t even need your notes in order to convince them.”

I gasped and tried to interject as he made his way out to the elevator. 

The meeting came and went, ending on a high note with Miles Finch agreeing to our proposed contract for his upcoming book series. It was truly a triumph; after weeks of hard work and preparation, it actually paid off. The entire meeting room filed out, talking happily and shaking hands with one another with a few minutes to spare before the end of the work day. I was approached numerous times by colleagues and representatives visiting from our New York location, congratulating me and Daniel on a job well done. As the building slowly emptied, I retreated back to my office and opened my computer to start on some extra work. I hadn’t forgotten about what Daniel said. And I certainly hadn't forgotten about my damned wristwatch. 

There were five separate invitations to go out for drinks with everyone from the meeting. And I really did wish to attend. Perhaps for a chance to earn a spot within Miles Finch’s good graces (he was said to be a difficult man to please), but I declined every single one. ��Such hard workers, you and Mr. Cleaver are. You make an excellent team, I’m quite glad to have hired you.” Mr. Fitzherbert said when he heard that Daniel and I wished to stay late to ‘get ahead’ on the next big project. 

‘Oh yes,’ I thought to myself. ‘I'm sure we’ll be working very hard tonight.’ It was the only thought I had in my mind as the boss praised us. Checking my email for a final time before I got to work, I noticed a new message. The sender’s name made me sigh and curse as I clicked it open. 

 ‘45 minutes, floor will be empty. 

50 minutes, after George does his rounds, you know what to do.

-DC’

The wall clock ticked away at an agonizingly slow pace. A few times, I even caught myself instinctually turning my wrist to check the time, and cursing under my breath when I found nothing there. When the time finally arrived, George, the security guard walked casually past my glass-walled office. We exchanged polite waves and I watched him walk through the room and out, heading for the stairwell. I recognized my moment, and turned off my computer. I took my things as if I were ready to leave: packed my notebook and pen into my bag, gathered up my coat and scarf, and made the dreadful walk of shame to Daniel’s office door. I felt his eyes on me as I hesitated outside, wondering again if this was all really worth it. I knew I wasn’t just going to walk in, collect my trinket, and go. It would never be that easy with Daniel. 

“About time, (y/ln), took you long enough to finally open the door. Having second thoughts?” Daniel said, without looking up from his computer screen. 

“Actually, yes,” I confessed, putting my belongings down on the chair by the door. “Am I going to regret coming in here, Cleaver..?” I gave him a sincere look of worry. His expression visibly softened as he stood from his desk and walked over. He stopped in front of me, just like he had done earlier. Except this time, there was no one around to see us. No one to watch him do something deranged… like brushing back my hair, or caressing my cheek. Or..

“Daniel,” I whispered, pulling away when he leaned in. My hand went to his chest, ghosting against the bare skin where his dress shirt was left unbuttoned. “Please - don’t risk our positions, or our jobs, for this silliness.” Daniel responded with a soft smile as his hand went to my cheek, caressing it gently. 

“It’s only a problem if we’re caught, (y/n).” Daniel began, his other hand trailing slowly up my side and to my waist. He pulled me against him and I stumbled a little, falling against Daniel’s chest and fully into his arms - right where he wanted me. “And if we are, which we won’t be, I’ll take the blame. It’s my idea after all. I’ll risk my position and my job… not yours.”

Somehow, Daniel’s own version of a sacrifice was endearing enough to make me blush furiously. I opened my mouth to protest, just to be met with his thumb gliding gently over my bottom lip. “It’s alright, (y/n),” He whispered with an amused smile on his face. He winked and I couldn't help but return the smile. Daniel backed away briefly, pulling me by the arm to his desk where I settled against it. He resumed his place in front of me, pulling me back into his embrace. “I’ve got it all figured out… and I've got you.”

I felt myself physically relax at Daniel’s words - more relaxed than I’ve ever felt while being with him. I raised my eyebrows at his statement, sighing against his lips. “You always have everything figured out, don't you Daniel?” Before he could give me one of his clever responses, I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips to his. Just to shut him up. 

His hand settled on my hip, keeping me pinned against his desk. I let my own hands move up his chest, and over his shoulders. One hand rest on the back of his neck, while the other went up into his hair, getting tangled in his dark locks. He let out a moan against my lips, and I couldn't help my mischievous smile.

“Excuse my enthusiasm, (y/n),” Daniel began, pulling away only enough to form words. “But I have been fucking dying to get you like this since the day I met you.” It was my turn to be amused now. I smiled and bit my bottom lip, delighted to see him this flustered. “Oh, I can tell, Daniel,” The feeling of his growing erection against me was enough to know that he was serious. I let my hands fall from their work in his hair, dropping one to his shoulder and the other to the desk behind me. It rested beside Daniel’s left hand, my fingers ghosting over his. “To make a confession of my own, I’ve always found you rather attractive - hot as fuck, even. But your insufferable arrogance was often far to much for me to bear.” 

Daniel laughed against my neck as he dipped down to kiss the sensitive skin there, earning a breathy moan from me. I moved my hand from the desktop, gliding over his hand and to his wrist, where I felt the undeniable outline of my watch. I quickly moved my hand up, tightening around his forearm as he nipped at my neck, hoping he wouldn’t get suspicious. “Daniel…” I moaned to him, making him hold my waist tighter in response. My other hand slid off his shoulder and down his back to distract him while I began to remove my watch from his wrist. 

‘Almost…’ I thought and let out a sigh when I felt the leather strap slide from the small buckle. Daniel bit into my neck harder than he had before, and I gasped sharply. He paused, bringing his quest to cover me in love bites to a close. “Don’t stop, please,” I pleaded, nearly whining for him. Not only was I close to finally getting my watch back, but the physical contact actually felt too good to lose. I felt Daniel smirk against my lips as he pulled away from me completely, my hand drifting off his shoulder and lingering outstretched for him. 

“You almost had me, (y/n),” Daniel said while he fastened my watch back onto his wrist. “Don’t make me restrain you, (y/ln). Play fairly and you’ll get what you came here for.” 

I roll my eyes and groan, crossing my arms in front of me. “Fine, Daniel. What must I do to get my precious watch back?” Daniel put a hand to his heart and gasped. 

“You wound me, (y/n), honestly,” He paced to the side of the desk, leaning on it bringing our faces inches apart once again. “I had hoped that what you wanted from me wasn't just your watch.” 

“Daniel-” I scolded, as if he were a child. He was surely acting like one. He just laughed and held up his hands in surrender after taking a step away. “Alright, (y/ln), alright. I need you to do something for me. A favor, I suppose.” His voice dropped in volume as he finished. I chewed the inside of my lip, eyeing him cautiously. 

“Like what? Take over a project for you? Cover for you while you run off to some broom closet or storage room with one of the interns?” Daniel approached me with that damned smile on his face again. The one that first made my heart race. The one that could convince me to do anything. 

“Bold of you to assume I’d be running off with anyone other than you, (y/ln). But no, nothing like that,” He paused, seemingly thinking. His tongue traced his bottom lip as his eyes scanned over my face while his hand absentmindedly rubbed my thigh beneath my skirt. “Well, you are quite good with this mouth of yours.” 

My eyes widened and my lips parted in my shock. ‘Oh, surely not.’ 

“I don’t suppose you mean I have a chance of talking my way out of this?” I asked, trying desperately to avoid what I knew he was implying. Daniel shook his head, still enamored by me as he resumed his kissing along my jaw and down my neck. “Come now, (y/n), don’t play innocent. It’s a poor act, and it doesn't look good on you.” 

He kisses and roughly nips at a spot just below my jaw, making me crane my head back and sigh. He pulled away again and looked at me. I had never seen his blue eyes look so dark. 

‘No. No. No way. Tell him no, say-’

“Fine,” I nodded to Daniel’s desk chair, telling him to sit as I pulled my hair back. I bit my lip to hide a smile as he scrambled to take his seat. I stole a pen off his desk and stuck it into my makeshift updo, securing it in place. 

I left my spot on the front of the desk, rounding it to stand between Daniel’s legs. The outline of his cock was apparent even through his dark trousers as I lowered myself down between his legs. The only sounds for a moment were heavy breaths and Daniel’s zipper sliding down. He shifted in his seat, pushing his trousers down slightly. I took a breath and paused when I slid my fingers around the waistband of his underwear. I hesitated for a moment, making Daniel hum in amusement from above me. I looked up at him, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re really doing this, (y/n)?” He said, surely meaning to challenge me. His arm was propped by his elbow on the armrest of the desk chair. My Timex watch sat, still fastened to Daniel’s wrist, looking almost like it was meant to be there. The gold hardware glinted in the low lights in the office and I felt my chest tighten at the thought of Daniel Fucking Cleaver keeping one of my most treasured possessions forever. “Of course I am,” I say, settling onto my knees and slowly letting my hands slide under Daniel’s dress shirt, up and down the sides of his torso. “I want my fucking watch back.”

Daniel nodded and readjusted himself in his seat, leaning back like a king on his throne. “Go on then Miss (y/ln). Use that pretty mouth of yours… take what you came here for.” I smiled back and rolled my eyes, letting my gaze settle on Daniel and his endearing grin. “Yes, right away, Mr. Cleaver.”

I slid my fingers into his waistband again and pulled them, no hesitation this time. My eyes widened a bit when his cock sprang free from its constraints. He was admittedly very large. Daniel let out a groan as I took him in hand and licked his tip playfully. I continued my teasing, enjoying the sounds of Daniel nearly whimpering. 

“O-ohhh, (y/n).. enough of that, please.” He begged, dropping his left hand to my face. Daniel held my chin up with one, and with the other began to stroke his cock, positioning it in front of my mouth. “No more teasing if you want your watch back.” I nodded obediently, which pleased him. 

“Now, (y/n), if you’d be so kind, just- ohhh, fuck,” Happy to quiet him, I took him into my mouth, going as deep as I comfortably could. I breathed slowly and deliberately, ensuring that I didn’t choke too severely. 

I felt Daniel’s hand snake around to the back my neck and hold me, tangling into the hair at the base. I moaned as he began to guide my head back and forth; slowly and gently. I shut my eyes for a moment, focusing on my breathing again. He was so much … more than what I had experienced in the past, and I was not accustomed to it. 

I felt Daniel move his hand from my chin and I opened my eyes slowly. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, his groans and whispers filling his office space. I pulled off his cock and trailed my tongue along the length of it, earning a hiss and a long moan of my name. I looked up again, hoping to catch his gaze and instead was met with the clockface of my watch on his wrist as his hand held the base of his cock. I stared at it before me, as I closed my lips around him again. 

‘He’s doing it on purpose, surely,’ I thought as his moans became a bit louder. 

“(y/n), fuck. I’m close, darling, so close-” Daniel groaned, his hold tightening on the back of my neck. I hummed and hollowed my cheeks as I took him, enjoying the sounds of his cries. 

I glanced up through my eyelashes and watched as he reached his climax, finishing into my mouth. I shut my eyes, swallowing what I could as Daniel’s hold on my neck loosened completely and his hand fell while he relaxed. 

“God, you are good Miss (y/ln). Fuck,” He groaned, fixing his clothes and redressing. I paused and patted his thigh gently, while I turned and spit the rest of his cum into the wastebin beneath his desk. Daniel watched as I casually stood and wiped at my mouth, rubbing off what remained of my lipstick. “Too much for you, darling?” He said, making me roll my eyes. I leaned forward, resting my hands on the chair’s armrests. My lips grazed Daniel’s tauntingly as I let my tongue glide over his bottom lip. “Is there anything else you require of me, Mr. Cleaver?” I asked with the best demure voice I could manage. 

Daniel groaned again, seemingly close to giving into me. “(y/n), darling…” He whispered, holding my face gently. “I thought I told you the innocent act isn’t your thing. Besides, as badly as I need to bend you over and fuck you on this desk, George’s next round is going to start soon and I’m confident that you don’t want him to find us like that.”

I stood and let him stand from his chair. “How do you know the security guard’s patrolling routine so well?” 

Daniel grinned. “My sweet, (y/n), why do you think?”

I didn’t give him an answer. Instead I scoffed at him and fixed the collar of my dress, crossing the room to pick up my belongings. “Oh, now I’ve earned the silent treatment have I?” Daniel leaned against his desk, watching me put on my scarf and coat. I failed to hide a smile when I watched him attempt to seem as though he wasn’t crying my name a moment ago. I crossed the room again, back over to Daniel and extended my hand wordlessly. He rolled his eyes and sighed, carefully removing the watch on his wrist. 

He lowered it into my palm and I nodded. “Thank y-,”

“On second thought,” Daniel began, cutting me off and pulling my watch away again. “I think I’ll hold onto it a little bit longer. Just until tomorrow evening, that alright, (y/ln)?”

My cheeks went warm while I watched him put the watch into his pocket and put on his own coat. I huffed, admittedly like a child, and crossed my arms. “Oh, was I not good enough?” I asked, a little too loudly. He shook his head. 

“Oh no, darling, you were wonderful. Too good for me to let this little game end right now. What do you say to … The Ritz? Tomorrow evening?” Daniel took his own things and walked to the door of his office. “I do owe you after all. I fear I’ve robbed you of a lovely night of drinks with our colleagues.”

I followed him out of the room and over to the elevator, waiting for the doors to open. “I'd say I've never been,” I confessed. “You do know you can ask me out to dinner without holding my wristwatch hostage, right?”

Daniel shrugged, sliding his arm around my waist as we watched the numbers of the floors descend. “Sure, but this is just more fun,” He leaned down, his lips grazing against my ear as he whispered, making my chest tighten. “It’s like getting back at you for those revealing outfits you’ve been wearing here - especially that little miniskirt you have.” I shivered as his fingers made gentle circles on my waist. 

He lifted his head, and stood up straight just in time for the doors to open again. George was indeed on his second round of the empty building, having left the other security guard at the front desk. We waved goodbye and were met with a cold wind beyond the front doors of Pemberley Press, the flurries mentioned on the news this morning already making their appearance. I paused to button up my coat, as Daniel examined my Timex watch yet again. 

“You know, (y/ln), I really do think this watch suits me nearly as well as it suits you.” He said, putting it back into the pocket of his trousers. I rolled my eyes and faced him. “Oh sure. Perhaps once we’re all done here you can get one of your OWN.” I heard Daniel’s laugh echoing behind me as I walked away from him. As I reached my car, I got inside and started it up wondering how on earth I was going to explain this situation to Frankie when I called him on the phone at my apartment.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

I hope you all enjoyed!! Potentially scheming a Part II at some point, but please let me know what you think!

[toeridiaorbust]

I Just Realized the Paper in the Radial Charts Are Visually Unique Too

All images belong to Red Spring Studio.

Mhin:

Theirs looks the 'cleanest', relatively speaking. Possible scribbled notes in the margins, there?

✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️

[More under the cut]

Vere:

There's, uh, a lot of blood. Fits the 5 rank of his 'Wanton Violence', doesn't it?

✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️

Kuras:

I know we haven't seen Kuras eat/drink anything in both the demo and other official art by RSS, but I know the stain of an overfilled coffee mug on a paper when I see one! [It's even referenced in the LI quiz the devs put out ages ago, the French press coffee!]

✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️

Ais:

While everyone's blue paper note is ripped at the top and bottom, Ais's has the addition of being crinkled up and torn!

As others noted in reblogs/tag/comments on the official RSS post for Ais, the Animal Handling rank is in allusion to his control of all the Soulless at the Seaspring.

However, there's the tear that cuts through it too. Ocudeus is the something Ais cannot control. [This is also noted by others in the fandom!]

[This also completely terrifies be because oh no! Ais is losing himself!]

The crumbled paper could be similar to how a student carelessly jams their homework/notes/etc. into their backpack and turns it in that way to the teacher. Ais is trying to keep Ocudeus in check/suppress it/them/him(?), but it isn't working anymore.

All in all, I cannot wait to see what the devs have in store for Leander's.

[itsokguysimquirky]

❥ coffee delivery 📓☕✒️

❥ lip gallagher x reader, no use of y/n, college!au, pre-relationship / potential friends-to-lover, cute little thing i wrote as a writing warm-up because I haven't in ages :p wrote it at 3am. proof read it 2 days later at 1am. so apologies if it's nonsense

❥ w/c -> 988

Consistency and Lip Gallagher were basically sworn enemies. Or at least, they weren’t very familiar with each other. That was until he managed to get roped up into your study sessions. The two of you got paired together for a group project near the beginning of the semester, and considering the near perfect grade you achieved with surprisingly little effort compared to most group projects, Lip hadn’t spent much time debating when you asked if he wanted to be your ‘study buddy’. Plus, he had to admit your time management skills greatly outshined his, hence the project running so smoothly. Sure, he had the natural intellect, but staying on top of things that weren’t survival-related was not Gallagher-forte.

But you kept him in line. He had never seen someone spend so much time organising their google calendar of all things. It was your ‘magnum opus’, you told him when he first questioned the colour-coordinated schedule, and he was starting to get why. Without fail you met three times a week, three hours at a time. If Lip had to cancel or cut a session early, another was scheduled to replace it before the hour’s end. Part of him hated it, little miss life together’s hounding on availability, but he couldn’t deny his more recent grades were too good to complain. And he also couldn’t deny your company was much nicer than most on campus, both in the talking sense and the visual department. Sure, your mind was great, but he didn’t mind the face stuck in front of it either.

“Coffee delivery!” Your cheery voice mock-whispered, sliding into your seat across from Lip and placing the cardboard tray of to-go cups inbetween you. The library’s fourth floor was practically empty, or at least the corner you two had tucked yourselves away in was. Seven pm on a sunday wasn’t usually prime study-time, but with Lip’s work-study, your own obligations, and class, it was a surprisingly good fit for you guys. Plus, the quietness made it much easier to focus.

“Thanks,” Lip didn’t look up from his book, one hand scribbling out nonsense into a notebook and the other grabbing a coffee. It was only after he took a sip did he look up, meeting your eyes with a look of offence. “The hell’s this? I told you, black, two sugars, none-”

“Of that cream shit, I know.” You finished, smiling wide as you recalled his very precise order. Your smile turning a little mean, you swapped your cups, bestowing Lip his beloved cream-free coffee, “Wanted you to learn to look up when you grab a hot beverage through a consequence that didn’t involve burning your hand or spilling coffee all over my notes.” With a wink, you happily took a sip of your flat white.

Lip bit his tongue, fighting back a smile at how proud you looked at your little coffee-swap-prank. It was admittedly cute as fuck, but he couldn’t exactly give you the satisfaction of acknowledging that. Instead, he hid his smile behind his coffee, relishing in the taste of its bitterness. This was how coffee was meant to be, none of that milky crap.

“So, what’s on your agenda today, coffee snatcher?” Lip asked, dropping his pen to give you the undivided attention you seemed to be asking for. He could see through your little tricks, swapping coffees was basically the college girl equivalent of little boys pulling pigtails.

You set your coffee aside, pulling off your fingerless gloves and getting your laptop out of your bag. “Advanced thermo. Shit’s kicking my ass, so I’m hoping three solid hours of that will make it… I want to say ‘make it my bitch’, but I’ll take understandable at this rate.” You laugh, flipping open your laptop and powering it on before disappearing back into your overfilled bag to hunt down the rest of your study material. “You?”

“Physics paper. Put it off for too long, now I have a Monday nine am deadline and only an opening paragraph.” Lip answered, nursing his coffee like it was a warm glass of whiskey. He watched as you dug around in your bag for what was, by his guess, probably just a pen he could’ve offered. But you were specific, you had a study pen, a notes pen, a maths pen, probably a pen exclusively for signing the declaration of independence if you searched in your bag long enough, and you were particular enough to not settle for substitutes until you knew for a fact you had no other option.

Finally emerging with a triumphant smile, your study pen grasped in your hand, you return Lip’s gaze. Offering a sympathetic wince, you slide the pack of pretzels you picked up at the coffee shop towards him, “Brain food. You’re gonna need it with a deadline like that.”

A shockingly genuine smile formed on Lip’s face, willing to admit that the gesture, while small, was sweet. He hid the smile behind his coffee of course, waiting til it schooled down to passively appreciative before he dared lowered his hand to reveal the quirked lips behind the lid. “Uh, thanks. That’s- um, that’s nice.” He cleared his throat, hating how he stumbled over his own words, “I, uh, can still walk you back to your dorm at ten, I’ll just head back here after.” Lip always walked you home after your evening sessions, the late hour and dark skies didn’t exactly make a safe environment for a girl like you, or any girl really, to wander around in.

You shake your head, “No, no, I’ll stick around. If you’re pulling an all-nighter I will too, could probably do with one to get my head around this stuff. We’re in this together, gotta keep you company, right?” You tilt your head, smiling at him.

Your smile’s returned, his grin almost dopey. He nods, messy curls bouncing in time, “Yeah, yeah. You’re good company.”

[the-reader-insert-gazette]

A Lifelong Contract (Part 3) - F!Reader x Zhongli

Request Column ( @quaildoodle ) - Genshin Impact

As past and present quietly converge, Reader begins to see the shape of the truth, and the man who’s chosen to walk forward with her.

[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ] ✒️ Word Count: 4252 🏷️ Relevant Tags: Mortal!Zhongli | Wedding Planning | Identity Reveal | Mutual Trust

A/N: I'm back from an unexpectedly extended hiatus! Work is still hectic at the moment, but posts should regulate in the coming weeks. Thank you all for your understanding and patience!

The garden estate was serene, tucked just far enough from the harbor that the buzz of the city faded away to the rustle of leaves. A gentle path led them past a koi pond rimmed with stones, under arching wooden beams that had stood longer than most could remember.

[Name] let her fingers brush over the low fence as they walked, glancing up at the paper lanterns strung between the trees. “This one’s my favorite so far,” she said, half to herself. “Feels like a place you could return to. Over and over.”

Zhongli walked beside her, his pace unhurried, gaze sweeping over the scene. “It is peaceful,” he said, though something in his voice was distracted, like his thoughts trailed elsewhere.

[Name] slowed and turned toward him, brow quirking. “You’re not usually this quiet about architecture.”

He glanced at her, a small smile touching his lips. “I find myself reflecting more lately.”

“Reflecting?” She folded her arms. “About what? Table arrangements? Floral choices?”

His smile deepened slightly but didn’t linger. “Not quite.”

[Name] stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. “Zhongli. You’ve been off all day.”

A pause. He glanced to the side, toward the quiet trickle of a fountain in the corner of the estate.

“I’ve been thinking about how moments like these become memory,” he said, voice even. “And how memory often becomes the foundation for how we choose to live moving forward.”

[Name] frowned gently. “Is this because we’re almost done planning?”

His eyes returned to hers. “Partly.”

They had been at this for months—meeting with merchants, sketching out table designs, scribbling ideas onto parchment late at night when one of them couldn’t sleep. This venue marked the last on their list, the final piece before decisions were made and invitations sent. She should’ve been elated, and part of her was. But watching him now…

“You’ve been like this for a while,” she said. “Not unhappy, just… elsewhere.”

Zhongli looked at her for a long moment, then nodded, almost to himself. “Tomorrow,” he said. “Come with me. There’s something I’d like to show you.”

[Name] blinked. “You mean like… a secret mountain shrine or a hidden scenic overlook?”

“Not exactly secret,” he replied. “But it’s a place I’ve long held close. One I wish to share with you, if you’re willing.”

She searched his face, reading the quiet intensity behind the calm. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something that felt like it held more meaning than he let on. There were always these little threads in his words—things he never quite explained.

But she trusted him. And more than that, she wanted to understand him.

“I’m in,” she said, softer now. “But just so you know, if this turns out to be another ancient tea house with no roof and a history lesson attached, you owe me dinner, again.”

A flicker of amusement returned to his features. “A fair exchange.”

They stayed there in the garden a little longer, their fingers brushing as she reached for his hand, fitting hers into it with practiced ease. She didn’t press further. And he didn’t offer more.

Later, when they returned home, Zhongli spent the evening preparing a travel pack, careful and methodical, while [Name] sat nearby, pretending to read and watching him out of the corner of her eye.

She had her speculation of her soon-to-be husband, theories even, but still, she didn’t know everything about him. That much was clear.

But something in the back of her mind kept telling her that tomorrow might change that, if only somewhat.

The fields of Guili Plains stretched golden beneath the early sun, wildflowers bending gently beneath the breeze that swept through the valley.

[Name] stood quietly beside Zhongli as they stepped from the path and into the tall grass. Crumbling stone ruins dotted the landscape, half-swallowed by time. What remained of once-grand structures now stood like the bones of something ancient, something long gone.

She hadn’t asked where they were going when they set out that morning. Only noted the glint in his eyes and the silence that settled around his shoulders more tightly than usual.

Now, standing here, she understood why.

“This place feels…” she trailed off, searching for the word. “Important.”

Zhongli stood a few paces ahead, his gaze fixed on the scenery around them. “It is.”

He walked toward a fallen pillar, weathered smooth by centuries of wind and rain, and rested his hand against the stone. [Name] followed slowly, her eyes tracing the remnants of what once might have been a city square.

“People lived here?” she asked.

He nodded. “A thriving assembly. One of Liyue’s earliest civilizations. Built on trust, unity, and beauty.”

[Name]’s brows knit as she turned in a slow circle, taking in the silent ruins. “What happened?”

Zhongli’s eyes lingered on the stone. “They were lost.”

The words were simple, but there was an ache beneath them. She didn't know all of Liyue's history, but she knew enough to reason a guess.

“To war?”

“That's... one way to put it.”

[Name] looked at him then and the pieces began to slot together in her mind. Not in full, but enough to recognize that this place meant far more to him than he let on.

“You come here often?”

Zhongli’s gaze didn’t leave the horizon. “Not anymore. But I did. For a long time.”

She didn’t speak. Just stepped beside him, brushing her hand against the edge of the same pillar.

“Why now?”

His reply came slowly. “Because I’ve spent so long honoring what was lost. What was left behind. And now, I find myself building something new. With you.”

Her breath caught.

Zhongli continued, his voice even, but gentler now. “But it’s not so easy to let go of old foundations. Even when you no longer live by them.”

[Name] turned to face him. “You’re not letting go of anything, Zhongli. You’re carrying it. That’s different.”

He looked at her, expression unreadable for a long beat. Then, softly, “Perhaps.”

She reached for his hand, fingers lacing through his. “Whatever your past is, whatever weight you carry... I just." she paused, giving thought to her words, "I want to understand where you’re coming from.”

Zhongli studied her, his gaze lingering not just on her face, but in the truth in her words.

“I believe that’s why I brought you here,” he said.

“To show me what you lost?” she asked.

“To show you what shaped me. And what I wish to protect now.”

She squeezed his hand gently.

A faint smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

The moment hung softly between them, neither rushed nor hesitant.

They walked for a while longer in silence, their footsteps brushing through the grass, the ruined stones casting long shadows in the late morning light. The stillness of the plains held something reverent that neither of them dared to fill with idle chatter.

Eventually, Zhongli slowed as they neared a small grove at the edge of a crumbled courtyard, half-sheltered beneath overgrown vines and flowering shrubs. He stopped before a small, weather-worn stone pedestal nestled between the roots of an old tree, its surface smoothed by time and care.

[Name] tilted her head, taking in the details—there were traces of incense ash on a ceramic dish, and dried glaze lily petals laid with intention around the base. Someone had been tending this place.

Zhongli stood before it without speaking for a long moment. His expression shifted with a rare, tempered softness.

[Name] remained quiet beside him, watching the way his hand reached out to gently straighten one of the petals that had drifted out of place. His movements were precise, not out of obligation, but something deeper.

“She meant a great deal to this place,” he said at last.

[Name] blinked, surprised by how gently he spoke. “Who?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained on the stone, not reverent, not mournful, just… remembering.

“A scholar,” he said finally. “A thinker. And more than that.”

[Name] waited. When he didn’t continue, she stepped just a little closer, brushing her knuckles softly against his. “Someone you knew?”

Zhongli exhaled, the sound low and steady. “Yes. A long time ago.”

[Name] glanced again at the arrangement, the quiet simplicity of the shrine, and the single glaze lily tucked into the offering dish. “Did you love her?”

His eyes closed for a breath. “Yes,” he said simply. “In my own way.”

There was no tension in [Name]’s response, no jealousy, only quiet understanding.

“Is that why you brought me here?” she asked.

“In part.”

Zhongli turned his head to her then, his golden eyes heavy with thought. “If time were kinder, I would have liked you to meet her.”

[Name]’s throat tightened.

She took his hand again, threading their fingers together. “I’m honored to meet the memory of her, ” she said quietly.

They stood there for a long time, the breeze curling gently through the trees, carrying the soft scent of lilies and old stone.

Eventually, [Name] reached into the satchel slung at her side and pulled out one of the travel candles she always kept around as a back-up for her lantern. She knelt and placed it beside the incense dish, lighting it with practiced ease.

“She deserved more than being forgotten,” [Name] said. “Even if I don’t know her name.”

Zhongli looked at her, and for a moment, said nothing. But his silence carried deep and wordless gratitude, the kind that came from someone who had held a memory close for far too long.

As they turned to leave, he looked back once over his shoulder, eyes on the soft flicker of the candle’s flame.

A single butterfly, pale gold, its wings nearly translucent—fluttered down from the branches above. It landed lightly on the edge of the stone pedestal, wings opening and closing in a slow rhythm.

[Name] paused, as she turned and caught the sight, her breath catching slightly. The butterfly lingered just long enough to feel intentional, as if it, too, had come to pay its respects. Then, with a final quiver of its wings, it lifted off again, disappearing into the breeze.

Zhongli watched it go, and a faint breath left him, like a weight was released from his chest.

No words passed between them as they continued their walk through the fields. The heaviness that had clung to the morning had begun to loosen its hold, replaced by a quieter emotion—not sorrow, but acceptance.

[Name] stepped around a fallen column, catching his gaze again as the wind stirred her coat. “Do you feel lighter?”

Zhongli considered her question. “Not lighter,” he said, “but… relieved.”

She nodded, seeming to understand. They walked a little further in silence, letting the sound of their footsteps carry the rest.

Eventually, as they crested a gentle slope and paused beneath the shade of a leaning tree, [Name] glanced sideways at him.

“Can I ask you something?” she said, voice carefully measured. “A few things, actually.”

Zhongli’s expression didn’t shift, but he looked at her with attentiveness.

“I can’t promise I’ll have all the answers,” he said.

[Name] gave a small, dry laugh. “I’d be shocked if you did.”

Zhongli’s lips quirked, just faintly, but the expression faded into something more thoughtful.

“I’ve tried not to press. But… with everything ahead of us, I think I need to ask now. Not because I doubt you, but because I want to walk into that future with open eyes. And I want you to know that I choose it—with all that comes with it.”

Her words settled like a stone gently placed, not heavy with demand but undeniable in weight.

Zhongli looked down at their hands, their fingers loosely entwined, and then back up at her. The breeze passed between them, quiet and carrying the faint scent of lilies and earth and distant rain.

“I have spoken around the truth for some time,” he said slowly. “But not to deceive you.”

“I know.”

“I did not want to burden you with a past you had no part in. But… I see now that I was also protecting myself.” He met her gaze. “From being fully known.”

[Name] said nothing. She didn’t have to.

He exhaled, a long breath like something loosening within him. “You are to be my wife. It would be unjust to ask for your future while hiding too much of my past.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his willingness.

Zhongli held her gaze another moment longer before tipping his head toward the grassy path behind them. “Come,” he said gently. “There’s a clearing not far from here. We’ll rest a while. And… if you still wish to ask, I will answer.”

[Name] blinked, then gave a slow nod. “Alright.” Her voice was soft but steady. “I’d like that.”

The sun had begun its descent, casting warm amber light across the plains by the time they reached it, a quiet rise nestled among the ruins, where the grass grew taller and the air smelled faintly of sweet osmanthus. Zhongli laid out the folded linen he had carried in his pack, smoothing the corners with familiar care. From a small lacquered box, he set out fruit slices, sesame cakes, and a flask of still-warm tea.

[Name] sat beside him, legs folded to the side, watching as he poured their tea. “You always make this feel like a ritual.”

“It is, in a way,” he said. “Ritual comforts the uncertain.”

She accepted the cup with a small hum of agreement. They ate in companionable quiet for a time, the hush between them gentle, not tense. But it was the kind of silence where something waited.

The wind had softened by the time the food was mostly gone, the sky above them streaked with rose-gold light. The silence between them was no longer heavy, only contemplative, stretched gently over the hush of the plains.

[Name] sat cross-legged on the blanket, one hand resting against her cheek as she studied him. “Alright,” she said finally. “I know you said I could ask. So I’m going to.”

Zhongli turned his gaze to her, serene as ever. “As I promised.”

She exhaled slowly. “You talk about history like you were there. Not just like a scholar or storyteller, like someone who lived it. You knew the ruins here before they were ruins.” Her fingers plucked idly at a corner of the blanket. “So I have to ask... just how old are you?”

Zhongli’s expression didn’t change, but his answer came with no hesitation.

“Older than I seem,” he said gently. “Far older than most realize.”

[Name] gave a slow nod, not startled, not really. “Thought so.”

She leaned back slightly, glancing up at the sky before continuing, her tone quieter now. “You know the adepti. Personally. You called Xiao by name without hesitation, and you've mentioned Cloud Retainer and others like old friends. Not like someone who reads about them in texts.”

Zhongli’s gaze didn’t falter. “They are not merely names to me,” he agreed. “They are... companions from a chapter long past. Ones I still hold in regard.”

[Name] tilted her head at him, one brow rising. “How does a man— a mortal, as far as anyone knows, come to have the personal favor of the adepti?”

He didn’t answer right away. His fingers wrapped lightly around his teacup, thoughtful. “Not all lives follow a linear path,” he said. “And not all titles are worn on the surface. Some ties are forged in what one does, not what one claims to be.”

Her eyes narrowed, but not unkindly. “You’re doing it again.”

“What's that?”

“Selective storytelling.”

Zhongli allowed the smallest smile to return, but didn’t deny it.

[Name]’s gaze drifted toward him again, her brow slightly raised. “So… last one.”

Zhongli glanced her way with a soft hum, inviting her to continue.

She hesitated for only a moment before leaning in, her voice light but deliberate. “You know the archon statues throughout Liyue? The ones of Rex Lapis.”

Zhongli said nothing.

She deadpanned. “It looks exactly like you.”

Still, no response.

“So,” she continued, tone still casual but her eyes sharp, “is that a coincidence?”

For the first time, he didn’t offer a gentle deflection or clever turn of phrase. He simply looked at her, long and quiet, as if choosing his next words with immense care.

“I’ve noticed it before,” she added softly. “I didn’t say anything because… well, part of me wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.” She exhaled slowly. “But now…”

Zhongli’s voice was quiet, with a pause of hesitation. “If it were not a coincidence… would it change how you see me?”

[Name] blinked, caught for just a second. Then she shook her head. “Not really. But I think I’d understand you better.”

Zhongli’s gaze held hers, unflinching and unreadable in the waning light.

“I would not wish to be seen differently,” he said, almost more to himself than to her. “Not by you.”

[Name] tilted her head. “Then maybe you should trust that I’ve seen you clearly from the start.”

The wind stirred again, rustling the tall grass around them. Zhongli’s fingers flexed slightly, then stilled.

She shifted closer across the blanket, their knees brushing, voice quieter now. “I’ve never needed to name what you are. I only ever wanted to know who you are.”

That made something flicker behind his golden gaze. Not guilt, but uncertainty. Hope, perhaps. Or perhaps more accurately, longing given shape.

He studied her for a moment, as if weighing whether the shape of that answer could be given in words at all. And then, without speaking, he reached out, letting his fingers settle over hers.

Warm. Solid. Steady.

“I have lived many seasons,” he said at last. “Seen nations rise, and watched them fall into ruin. I have dined beside emperors and buried friends whose names are no longer spoken. I have upheld oaths that long outlasted those who made them… and still, none of that has prepared me for the quiet courage of being known by someone like you.”

[Name]’s breath caught in her throat.

Zhongli’s voice was barely above a murmur now. “So no—it is not a coincidence. And I am not like other men.”

He did not say it directly. He didn’t have to. The details spelled it out clearly enough.

She felt it in the weight of his honesty. In the unguarded stillness of his posture. In the way he, so composed and eternal in every other moment, now looked at her like she held something too precious to name.

[Name]’s hand tightened slightly around his. “Then I’m glad you’re not.”

They sat like that until the sun disappeared fully beyond the horizon, and the first evening stars blinked into view above the ruins. No more questions were asked that night. None needed to be.

Because between the lines, she had learned enough.

The path winding back through Guili Plains had cooled with the night, shadow fully encompassing the ruins. Zhongli walked beside her in silence, their hands still loosely joined, neither of them rushing to break the quiet that had settled between them since the picnic.

[Name] let her gaze drift ahead, then to the side, to him.

It was strange, she thought. How something could be so obvious once you let yourself see it.

The way he spoke of history not just as a scholar, but as if the ink of those events hadn’t yet dried yet in his memory. The reverence in his tone when speaking of the adepti, as if he hadn’t simply met them but had once stood beside them. The mannerisms, the way he held himself, as if time didn't not touch him.

And then there was the statue.

She exhaled through her nose, not quite laughing. Not quite surprised.

Of course it wasn’t a coincidence.

Her eyes slid to him again, taking in the layers of his composure.

“I still can’t believe it,” she murmured.

Zhongli glanced at her, brow lifting slightly.

“That statue. The stories. The voice you get when you talk about contracts.” She smiled wryly. “You really weren’t kidding about being particular, huh?”

His expression softened, but he said nothing.

[Name] smirked and bumped her shoulder lightly into his. “Though I do have to ask…”

“Yes?”

“Since you're… you-know-who…” She eyed him. “Why didn’t you set aside a tidy retirement fund before stepping down? You know, maybe one mora for each year of divine service?”

Zhongli blinked, surprised. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a soft, genuine laugh that was low and warm, the kind that rumbled more than it rang.

“I had intended to,” he said dryly. “But in the process of stepping down, I may have… neglected the finer details. Like establishing personal financial stability.”

[Name] snorted. “So basically, you forgot to give yourself a retirement plan.”

“That would be one way to put it,” he said, entirely unbothered. “An oversight I continue to feel every time I visit the tea shop.”

They both chuckled, the sound dissolving into the soft hush of evening around them.

But beneath her teasing, [Name] still felt it, the quiet shift in understanding. The invisible thread that had drawn them together now looping back through time, tying her not just to the man she loved, but to something older, something far larger.

And yet… he had chosen this.

To live as he now was. To walk beside her, not above the world, but within it.

“You could’ve said no,” she said after a moment. “To all of it. To being known. To answering my questions.”

“I could have,” Zhongli agreed.

“But you didn’t.”

He looked at her then, eyes warm and certain. “Because you asked.”

That, she realized, was the most telling thing of all.

Bonus 1

The market was unusually busy for a weekday, packed with baskets, stray pigeons, and at least three rival aunties fighting over a suspiciously underpriced basket of Qingxin. [Name] had just made peace with overpaying for peaches when a familiar voice called out behind her.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Liyue’s most patient woman.”

She turned to see Childe leaning lazily against a fruit stand, arms crossed, a knowing grin playing at his lips.

“Please,” she said, brushing her hair out of her face with mock weariness. “Patient isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Oh?” He strolled over, peering into her basket. “What word would you use?”

[Name] gave him a look, one brow arching. “In possession of divine patience, maybe.”

Childe froze mid-step. Just slightly. Just enough.

[Name] smiled sweetly. “You know. With the way Zhongli talks. The things he knows. The uncanny resemblance to that very public statue throughout the country.”

Childe’s smile was all teeth now. “Ah,” he said. “So… you do know.”

“I never said that,” she replied smoothly, plucking a pomegranate from a nearby crate and tossing it lightly between her hands.

“No,” Childe mused, watching her with obvious amusement. “But you’re walking around with the swagger of a woman who’s kissed a god and didn’t explode. So I’m putting the pieces together.”

[Name] bit back a laugh. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m supportive,” he corrected. “Very supportive. Just also terrible.”

Bonus 2

It was rare to find Ganyu outside of work, and rarer still for her to accept a midday break without protest. But [Name] had shown up at Yuehai Pavilion with a small box of almond tofu that couldn't be refused.

They sat in the Pavilion’s shaded courtyard, a tray of tea between them.

“You really didn’t need to do this,” Ganyu said again, cheeks faintly pink. “I know how busy things must be with the wedding—”

[Name] held up a hand. “And you don’t get to deflect with work guilt. Besides, I owe you a proper thank you.”

Ganyu blinked. “For what?”

[Name] swirled her tea, then gave her a look. “For almost calling him Rex Lapis to my face.”

Ganyu froze mid-sip, her spoon clinking softly against the porcelain.

[Name] watched her reaction, smiling as if she’d simply commented on the weather. “I’m not mad, by the way. Just… amused.”

“I… oh,” Ganyu breathed. “I—oh dear. I thought you didn’t know.”

“Well, I didn’t,” [Name] admitted, leaning her chin into her palm. “Not for sure. But I’d been suspicious for a while. That slip of yours just happened to be the final crack in the vase, so to speak.”

Ganyu covered her mouth with both hands. “I knew it—I knew I said too much! I ruined it! I—I should have never—”

[Name] reached across the table and gently tugged her sleeve. “Hey, hey. Relax. If it makes you feel better, we talked it out already. We're all good.”

Ganyu peeked out from behind her fingers, eyes wide. “But… you know who he is. And you’re still—”

“Still marrying him?” [Name] shrugged with a grin. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Ganyu blinked. “But… he’s Rex Lapis.”

[Name] raised her teacup. “He’s also the man who brews me tea when I’ve had a bad day. Who folds laundry with the precision of a ceremonial rite and insists the guest towels be arranged according to seniority.” She took a sip. “God or no god, he’s still just him.”

Ganyu stared at her for a long moment, then slowly yet shyly smiled.

“I suppose I’ve never heard anyone describe him quite like that,” she said softly. “But I think he’d be glad to know that’s how you see him.”

[Name] winked. “It’s how I love him.”

Ganyu flushed crimson.

[celeluwhenfics]

The state of my desk when trying to write a double canon compliant fic

The cover of this edition of Persuasion is so ugly, I don't even feel bad highlighting and scribbling all over it 🩱

Trying to not look too often at Tolkien because the beauty of his sentences paralyzes my writing 😰

The Elements of Eloquence for when I need help to English convincingly 😶

Scrivener to keep track of 50k+ words of notes and drafts ✒️

Icelandic folksongs because that's definitely what the Eorlingas are singing 🎻

Not pictured: a WordHippo tab open at all times 🦛

[eyessopen]

✒️

💥 ― Send '✒️' and I'll try to write YOUR muse in my style!

E ... E ... O ... P (See me after class)

Teaching, according to every professor he had ever met, was supposed to be rewarding. Harry had just never realized how much grading went into being a professor. And with every year that passed and with every new handful of students, the essays kept getting worse and worse.

For example ... no, Mason, vampires did not exist and an entire essay citing a muggle fantasy book as a source did not receive full credit.

Harry rubbed at his chin, squinting even with his glasses to try and make out the scribbled chicken scratch on the parchment. Had he been this bad as a student? Certainly ... well, Hermione would probably argue that no, he had been worse. But he had an excuse didn't he? Hard to concentrate on two inches on animagus when a psychopath was trying to kill him every year!

Suddenly, a sharp knocking on his window pulled his attention from his pile of ungraded work. Harry narrowed his eyes, his gaze focusing on the brown spotted owl that was knocking its beak against the glass. Only one owl was bold enough to come to him personally rather than stopping at the owlery. Getting up from his seat, his face paled at the sight of the howler hanging off of the owl's talons.

Merlin Ginny, really?

Opening the window, Harry took the howler from the owl, pressing a treat to its beak before closing his window. It would only get worse if he ignored it so slowly, Harry opened the bright red letter, unsurprised when he unraveled in his hand and started yelling.

"HARRY POTTER ! I BETTER SEE YOU AT HOG'S HEAD! I WILL GO TO HOGWARTS AND PULL YOU OUT OF THAT STUFFY OFFICE BY THE EAR MYSELF IF I DON'T SEE YOU! THIS IS A THREAT!"

Harry, despite himself, let out a chuckle, watching the howler go silent. He shook his head, already imagining Ginny's face if he ditched yet another Hog's Head reunion. It was tough, being so beloved by such ... extroverted people. But it was a good problem to have, one he was growing used to.

"Thanks, Gin." Harry murmured to himself, walking back to his desk to pen a letter back to her. It would be a howler, just to even the score.

This was good, a much needed distraction from piss poor essays about vampires.

[tokusaatsus]

t. leo — play it on repeat

warnings: insecurity

Leo can never stop thinking about you, and he thinks it might be becoming a problem.

There’s a constant melody playing in his head on loop, but he’s not complaining! This is good inspiration, something that will stick with him for a while. He can visualise the notes in his head, and hurriedly gropes around in his backpack for the sheaf of papers he knows is in there, somewhere.

They’re a little crumpled when he unfurls them, but he doesn’t complain. After all, any paper is good paper!

He begins scribbling, attempting to get this down pat before the tentative symphony his genius brain is forming is replaced with another one. This happens a lot—him losing the melody before he’s even finished crafting it, the cogs in his brain constantly turning, turning, turning.

He’s like a machine! Albeit a very clunky one, because his brain doesn’t really work the way it’s supposed to… No matter! Leo can already tell the song that he’s writing will be a good one. He can’t wait to show it to everyone…!

As he hums under his breath, he imagines your features following the path of the music. The dips and curves, tracing the slope of your nose and cheekbones with his fingertips the way he is wont to do, affectionately. The crescendo patterns itself after the swish of your hair and as the music hits its peak, he thinks of the way your fingers, fine-boned and delicate like a bird’s wing or a cat’s paw, move idly as you speak.

Perfect, perfect, perfect, this music is perfect—borne from his ever-thinking mind, riddled with thoughts of you, you, you.

The lyrics, too, start to form. Bird’s winged love, my heart yearns. Leo bites his lip. Objectively, he knows it’s good. Everything he writes is. He just wonders… Because it has to be perfect, obviously. If it’s not perfect, it’s not worth it.

And you are perfect, so you’re most definitely worth it. He has to make this worth something, to you. He wants to see that look in your eyes, the one you get when you spot something you adore. He wants to be the one to put that spark there. He wants, he wants, he wants so badly it hurts.

When he presents this gift to you, he needs to know that you will keep it in a special plce in your heart. It’s a selfish thought, Leo can’t claim your whole heart. But he’ll be satisfied with just a piece. Enough to secure his place there.

If you were here, you’d joke and tell him, my whole heart is yours, silly. You’re not here right now. But you will be. Soon, soon, soon. It will be morning and you will show up at his door with a bouquet of flowers, blinding as the sun, and you will offer him your hand.

He remembers. You smiled at him, once. He thinks of the curve of your lips, secretive and oh so lovely. You smile at him, and he falls in love all over again. Pretty, pretty, pretty, a smile like the moon. My dear, I love you so. You laugh, laugh, laugh and Leo loves, loves, loves.

© tokusaatsus 2023

wc. 533 words

reze txt. hbd leo! the only energy i could muster turned into... this. please enjoy, i put effort into it ;_; (spiritual gift for @akinachiri ♡ ily bff sooo sorry i cucked your husband /hj) title is from do i wanna know by the arctic monkeys

taglist. (fill out the form or send an ask to be added!) @prpne​ @gabirii​ @kazemiya​ @engurishu​ @kkomaism​ @asbestieos​ @mikctp​ @lilikags​ @lolthia​ @unwantedsleep @hasumilvr​ @head-full-of-empty​ @pr3tty-jennie​ @narumika​

[habitual-creatures]

*Scribbling something down a piece of paper and snapping the paper away in a ball of flame* Well, that was nice of Raven and Xia...I need to go visit soon...after I find out if Trinity's plan works.

*DIS moves an arm so Kevin can use it as a pillow with the icepack underneath his head. It winces at the cold feel and covers them both up with a blanket.*

~🕕/✒️📖

What were you writing...?

Mmfhf

(( Kevin has once again buried himself face first in Dis' paw. He's cozier like that ))

[so2uv]

ok ok rework of shun's powers bc i just need to do a stream of consciousness exercise to make this make sense to myself. tw death bc it's shun

basically instead of visions of people who will die the next day, bc what if he goes to bed at 11:59pm? or 12am? does he skip that day? maybe but yeah no needs to be more consistent, his visions are of a very near future. as in it could range from the current day, tomorrow, or the next week. (1 week is the cap though. he's not a full on clairvoyant)

still having it so that the visions are mainly about those he's interacted with recently because it makes sense so he's not like, having visions of people all around the world

visions by touch are possible, but they need full skin contact. usually they happen by accident, with his powers being somewhat active but not enough to show, though he can willingly do so as well. (why would he though lmao). if a vision is activated this way, the vision will last as long as the skin contact does.

he can still see ghosts.

[not-someones-shadow]

Tag list

👾Could have been anyone else (Interactions with other blogs)

✒️Anything better to do? (Asks)

🗝️This guy? (Sora)

🔑 Two? (Roxas)

🪡Precious puppet (Xion)

🕯️Stolen light (Ventus)

💖Friends of yours (Interactions with Riku, Kairi, Axel, Aqua, Terra)

🎨Doodle girl (Namine)

👁️‍🗨️Master (Xehanort, Xemnas, Ansem Seeker of Darkness)

🌰Your own person (Repliku)

✨Scribbles✨(Posts containing Scribbles the Unversed)

🐦‍⬛Rocks the Archraven (Posts containing Rocks the Unversed)

🥚Eggs the scrapper (Posts containing Eggs the Unversed)

✖️Tic tac and Toe ⭕ (Posts containing the Hareraiser trio)

🐝Andrenidae/Sweetie Pie (Posts containing the Xenomorph Unversed)

⚙️Void Gear the damn Gecko (Posts with Void Gear's truest form)

♟️What exists beyond the veil (Vanitas musings)

Memoir of a shadow (short stories)

🥬cabbage creations (mod posting)

From the Garden (completed artwork)

Darkness in a bottle (visuals)

💔The aching and breaking (Darkness)

⭐Wayfinder AU

[just-asimple-brunette]

Ｙｏｕ’ｖｅ ｂｅｅｎ ｔａｇｇｅｄ！

Write a note in your muse’s handwriting and tag three people 📝✨✒️

A number of post it notes are littered around the apartment in hasty written scribbles ….

tagging:

@codenamepinetree

@millicndcllarbby

@ashxbabes