#starting this habit of writing a story every day this year truly has allowed me to track my mental health

[oediex]

For almost a year now, I haven't kept track of the news. I've obviously picked up the most important news from social media, and friends and family sharing information with me. But apart from checking a news site if I wanted a bit more information on something I'd heard elsewhere, I've been actively avoiding the news.

It's a protective measure during periods of depression. In such times, my brain can only deal with so much information, and in the worst of them, sensory stimulus is all I have room for. For months this year, I would listen to one song on repeat, without exception. First instrumental music, then eventually one with lyrics. I would change the song around every other week or so, but that was about it. Then a couple of months ago, I found I was able to watch YouTube or a film I knew well when doing chores. There was more bandwidth. Like I had upgraded my RAM.

Today I find myself going for a familiar bookmark, though. A link to the most recent news broadcast as I'm preparing to do the dishes. It isn't even a fully conscious decision. More like a switch in my brain has turned and allowed for certain actions to take place again. My unconscious deciding I am ready.

[thebestofoneshots]

Hi love just wondering when the priest Remus fic will be out? I LOVE LOVE your writing and I am so excited for this one

I truly hope It's this Friday! Especially with the GC chapter we're going to have, I feel like you guys deserve a little compensation. If I can't manage though, it will surely be next week.

Now, and to build more excitement, a little teaser:

NO SWEETER INNOCENCE THAN OUR GENTLE SIN | TEASER

Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them. Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him). Warnings: The complete story will contain smut. Innocence! Kink, allusion to fingering and self-pleasure. Reader is seducing a catholic priest and has a bit of a corruption!kink. Smut under the cut.

After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.” 

“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.” 

“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.” 

“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.” 

“The way I see it, Saint Griffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see beautiful priest Remus.” 

“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been craved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.

“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and leaving exiting the church. 

You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.

Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be. 

He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his atention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him.

(...)

The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray. 

That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?” 

It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.” 

He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was. 

almost.

“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.” 

“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?” 

Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you? 

Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps it would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you. 

“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you. 

Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”

His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end. 

 “I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.” 

You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.” 

“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.” 

“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–“ Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.” 

“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it. 

“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.” 

“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?” 

“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course. 

“Pray Our Father 10 times and–“ 

“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”

Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.” 

You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.” 

Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man. 

(…)

Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in a way that was almost painful. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned. 

“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dead and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.” 

“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it. 

“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood. 

“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?” 

Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.” 

Read More Marauders Fiction Here

No sweeter innocence than our gentle sin will be out soon!

Tag list open (Just tell me if you want to be added)

[that-one-ya-pagan-book]

Penelope Smith

Daughter of Oceanus| Devotee of Lady Amphitrite | Attendant Of Lord Zeus

[Moodboard Created By Me | Images All Found On Bing]

Name: Penelope Smith

Penelope - "Weaver"/Namesake of Penelope of Ithaca

Smith - Common American Last Name; Associated With Blacksmiths, Armorsmiths, and similar workers.

Parentage: Daughter of Oceanus; Pagan Father

Pronouns: She/Her in the Nonbinary Sense

Age: 19

↳ My purpose will always be to The Gods. They are my strengths, as well as my weaknesses, and I am okay with that. Go ahead, use Them against me. I dare you.

Ethnicity: African-American

Backstory:

Penelope Smith was born to an African American Pagan Father deep down in the American South who was adopted by a rich, white, Christian family. Deep down, they still loved the one who did not look their own, but each day they spent trying to convert him and Penelope to their ideals. Her Grandmother spoke Christian stories to her each night at bedtime and for the longest of times, Penelope saw nothing wrong with it. She enjoyed the stories, sure, but they were no different than "fairy-tales," but eventually saw how angry they seemed to get at her for not being "inspired" by such tales and took it out on her father to his very grave. From then, she was forced to pray every minute with them--which she did not mind, the monotone and Higher Purpose calmed something in her--but she never found herself truly believing in what she was talking to. Eventually, while her father was alive, she started school on Olympus and learned about the Greek Gods and she hasn't truly looked back since. She is still a highly religious Woman, though, so she participates in her family's lives as avidly as she can, which sates them just a little bit.

Powers: Tarot Cards; The Power of Oceanus, Demi-Titan Strength

Weapons: Tarot Cards; Bow & Arrow

Characters That Inspired My Creation Of Her: Annabeth Chase, Rogue, Tim Bradford, Lucy Chen, Sky Tate

Likes: Allowing Herself To Be Angry [Hello Anger Issues]; Being Challenged; Playing Board Games [She Likes To Play With Her Food /j]; Her Fiancé [Michael. He The Greenest Of Flags <33]; Horse-Riding; Teaching

Dislikes: The Effects Of Her Anger Issues [Thanks, Reality...]; Anti-Zeus Rhetoric [That Is Her King.]; Anti-Hellenic Gods Rhetoric [Annoying. Simply Annoying]; Politics [She Was Born & Lives In Texas]

Enemies: "The Gatsby"

Fun Facts:

Penelope's Fiancé's name is Michael and they've been together for around 8 years now--when Michael first asked her to dance in middle school a few years after her dad died--. People either thought they were going to last or crash and burn, but they did neither and grew to be stronger people together. Michael didn't even mind her altars and Paganism--all he did was smile awkwardly and skirt around it as not to disturb it because he himself knew what it was like to love God and would hate his own things to be disturbed. Eventually, he went on a deep-dive to learn about the specifics but that was really solidified their relationship--his openness and willingness to learn more about Penelope to make it work. Penelope already had the habits of easily accommodating for people, and so they fell into easy steps as she moved easily to accommodate for him as soon as he entered and he rambled off about his day as soon as she was in earshot. They the cutest thing [he even learned how to Offer something and asked Lord Zeus, Lord Poseidon, & Lady Amphitrite for her hand in marriage!! So cute-]

Penelope's main strength is her ability to keep things up for hours on end. She can sit still for hours--blame Texas--and ride a horse for even longer. She can study for hours on end and write for days. She just has this ability to turn her brain all the way off and let time roll off of her in waves (heh? get it-) and it makes very few things become chores. And, she's just Used to it. The mode itself has always been there--especially since she was always a silent and observant kid--but it took a few years to harness it and be able to turn it on instead of the overwhelming anger that was her other automatic move.

Penelope is also very prone to overstimulation, which is a main trigger of her anger issues along with the lack of control that came with her fathers' situation + death. She's gotten used to handling it, but as soon as something starts, things just don't stop. And hell hath no fury than a southern black woman scorned. She doesn't like the fact that she has to do "damage control," hold back her anger, or even have to deal with it in general, but she begrudgingly gets it with the stern look of her Patrons.

Penelope is one of the main "Counselors" upon Olympus for both the Summer and various sports. Since there are quite a few kids who do not have families to return to or support to live with, Olympus hosts them year-round and so the older Demigods & Worshippers [some of whom are completely mortal & are invited upon Olympus under special/specific circumstances] put it upon themselves to host little mini-"camps" like mortals have on earth to both teach and entertain the little hellions. And Penelope teaches both Archery, Horse-Riding, and hosts Quiet/Study Sessions for them to attend if they just need something to quell their minds. She's highly adored among the kids--no matter her preference for silence and general stand-off demeanor she gets outside of her Worship--especially because they know she will defend them to high or hell water if anything happens to them. She's reprimanded gods to save "her kids" and has the backing of Lord Zeus at her disposal--the world truly is her oyster and everyone but Penelope knows that.

She's studying Marine Microbiology to help combat the pollution crisis plaguing the Oceans!

[low-po1y-princess]

The big as fuck Rick and Lissy post

I'm writing this up bc I've had Rick and Lissy for 6 years, but have remained very secretive about their story

So who's Rick? Rick is a ghost who died in the late 80s in a shipwreck. Even though he had a genuine love for sailing, he mostly joined because he thought that becoming a crew member would allow him to escape his old life. He left behind his homophobic parents, his old hook ups, and most regretfully, his girlfriend. But leaving behind new relationships can't stop the new ones from starting problems.

Rick fell for the captain of the ship, and he fell hard. Despite his infatuation, he never confessed. At least, not before the storm hit. While trying to save the captain, Rick broke his leg. So when the ship capsized, the only thing left to do was drown.

And who's Lissy? Lissy's a mermaid (pinoy angelfish, to be specific) who only wants other people to be happy. "It makes me happy! So it's like a feedback loop of happiness." She's done this all her life, essentially. Done everything she can to make sure those she loves are loved and taken care of. If you do enough for them, they'll do the same to you, right? They can't see her sad, though. "That would upset them, if they saw me like that."

Unfortunately, that allows some awful people to worm their way into your life. People who only want validation with no plans to give any back. Years ago, there was another mermaid who Lissy truly trusted, someone she would willing spend forever with. This merm didn't feel the same unfortunately. And when Lissy couldn't offer them as much due to the mental exhaustion of constantly trying to please them, they cast her aside, touting her as a bad friend.

What's their story? So it's 2017. Lissy's exploring the very edge of mermaid civilization. When she spots this huge shipwreck! Relatively fresh, too, from what she can tell. So she snoops around, looking for little trinkets. And who should she find but Rick, who's spirit has been resting for years, unable to pass on. Rick's not thrilled about being dead, but Lissy's excited to show him what her life has to offer :)

And it goes pretty well! Rick spends all his time with Lissy, adjusting to living underwater, 21st century life, and being a ghost all at once. Lissy's sure to show him all mermaid society has to offer, sticking close by his side. And Rick's grateful for her, extremely grateful! But his past experiences keep tainting his new ones. Anytime he tries to sleep, all he can dream of is the day he died. All he can think of is how he left his girlfriend all alone, how she's probably in shambles because he never came back. And if he did, would she recognize him? Would she hate him?

So Rick tries to keep his distance. If you don't grow attached to anyone, then no one gets hurt, right? He stays with Lissy, but he's not talking to the people she introduces him to that much. When Lissy asks him about his life pre-mortem, he answers vaguely. And Lissy's fine with that, she doesn't want to prod. But she can't shake the feeling that he's holding onto something that's a little too heavy on his conscious.

And one night, Rick let's it all slip. How he wanted to leave everything behind. How he died for a man who didn't know he loved him. How he left a woman he admired and respected to wonder what happened to him. How if he had just stayed put, he wouldn't be bothering Lissy. He feels awful. Irresponsible. Unlovable. But Lissy assures him that she's loved every day she's spent with him, and that she wants to work this out together.

And Rick feels like something awful in his chest is starting to lighten.

Now, Lissy isn't without her mental hook-ups. Since that awful friend break up, Lissy's fallen back on old habits. She doesn't want to lose Rick, too, after all they've been through together. Of course, she doesn't take Rick as that kind of person, but that anxiety is too strong to ignore. She's determined to help him because she loves him, of course, but she's always afraid that it'll take one bad day for him to cast her aside.

Rick can't help but notice that Lissy's had some really weird days in a row. She's been her usually cheery self, but some days she's less coherent. Still willing to do anything and talk about anything weighing Rick down, but her eyes are tired, she's slouching when she's never slouched before. Rick offers that she takes a break. But she refuses. "You've stayed with me this long... I owe you this, right?" And it comes together for Rick.

So he assures her. Rick can think of no better person to spend an afterlife with. He's grateful for all that she's done and always will be. But even if Lissy couldn't give 100%, Rick would still spend an eternity with her.

Lissy's taken care of people for so long. Now it's time for her to allow herself to be taken care of.

[cinnamonfridge]

So sorry you've been victimized by people over, what, a writing website? Do you think the whole thing's a false flag for them to find a scapegoat? Was it your bosses/the mods over there going after teenagers and saying it was you? Did they really not give you any help or support when your wife died in 2019 or 2020 or 2021 (sorry, just trying to read the different posts so might have gotten years wrong)? Did you ever give them a doctor's note for your medical problems? Cuz you can probably sue them if there's like a paper trail. Why did they target you and no one else? What do they have against you, is it just your radical honesty? Sorry so many questions.

It was other participants making the bullshit claims that I had been targeting them. Too bad 39 seconds reviewing my PMs would have proved that was a damn lie. Staff just refused to admit it.

My wife died June 2nd, 2019. The actual heart attack was actually on May 31st. And to correct something, I was given the support I asked for.

As for my health issues, most of them I didn't even mention for a very long time. I honestly can't remember if I shared the note from my PCP with them when I found out I was stage 5. I did PM Sarah, Heather, Letitia, and Samma_Jaye though. Sarah, because it was going to affect my ability to manage the ML group that year. Heather because I knew she knew me well enough she would understand why I was begging to be allowed to remain a moderator as long as possible. Samma_Jaye was the moderator I was most certain would be able to spot the warning signs as my behavior changed as a side-effect of the toxins building up because of the kidney failure and the fact it was only a matter of time before I would have to stop my dialysis (and I'll get into that weirdness in moment). Letitia, of course, as the lead forum mod has final say on whether or not I would be allowed to continue as a moderator.

As for targeting me? There's two sides to this that people need to understand. At the start of June I knew I was going to have to end my mod duties, but I was also sick and tired of seeing the toxicity that had been building up and was continuing to build up. I'd seen that shit before and I wanted staff to address it once and for all in a way that didn't involve a bunch of other bullshit getting in the way.

So when I saw some well known malicious flaggers that I also knew had made a habit of stalking my posts, I took advantage of it. I deliberately posted I would override the lock on the CTT thread if it happened because of the flags. And sure enough, within minutes they'd gone running to the Moderation Feedback thread about it. And that's when the fun started.

All those violations of the moderation policy I did? Staff and the other mods knew from the start it was intentional to force fhem to see just how toxic the forums had truly become so they could try and fix it. And well, as recent days have proven, they ignored my warnings and the shot I gave them at fixing things.

Now, here's the other half: if you find the What's Happening Here thread from December of '22 you'll see in the public posts I'm not exactly friends to Marya. A lot of that was because initially we were ordered to not moderate that thread at all. And I chose to go malicous compliance on her. I lowered my trust level to level 2 and then flagged every violation, no matter how minor it was.

See, we were told we couldn't moderate, but we were also told we could participate so that is exactly what I did. It wasn't long after word came down that with some exceptions we were permitted to moderate it.

But the true story is that there are a lot of whispers (mod/admin only posts) in that thread and I was far more blunt and honest in those comments than Marya liked.

And every interaction Marya and I had after that there was a very noticeable animosity in it, especially after she decided kissing donors' asses was more important than making sure she had all the facts before commenting on a situation.

So yeah, I guarantee a lot of the reason staff never addressed the shit they knew was false because Marya told them not to as revenge for me not bowing down and kissing her ass.

That's also why I'm now 100% certain she lied to the board by leaving out key details to try and save her job at the expense of Letitia's.

[sekceesimps]

The Adeptus’s Temptation (Xiao x reader oneshot)

summary: Xiao watches and reacts to his darling being flirted with by a certain Geo Archon.  angst (kinda) but ends with fluff.  

a/n Hey anon, I loved your requests so I decided to do both of them… hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the love and feel free to leave another request (that goes for all of you!) 

This is sort of a more in depth version of the Xiao part in the Genshin Jealousy HCs

Also sorry for the delays between publishing, Tea and I have been busy with our personal lives, but we’re trying to write more! 

Keep liking and following us, it genuinely motivates me to write. 

 Sincerely Coffee  

Who would have ever thought that the Conqueror of Demons, the Vigilant Yaksha, the great adeptus Xiao would ever have a significant other that was human. Certainly not you and definitely not him. 

Xiao is not someone who is easy to open up and be kind, but you managed to break through his cold and harsh demeanor. A surprise to the adeptus who had resigned himself to living his life alone and far from others. You are someone special to him in a world filled with incompetent and useless humans. 

It took some time for him to allow you to spend more days with him and even allow you to initiate physical affection. At first, it came as a relief when you were out doing commissions or just going out to work, he needed his space after all. He was worried about how fast he was falling for you and clung onto the hope that the space he left would allow him to protect himself. 

As your warmth and presence grew on him more, a part of him yearned to be at your side and let you closer to his heart. He had put up his icy walls to combat the heartbreak that comes after losing friend after friend, he was distraught with how quickly you broke through to him. He grumbled at your hand holding, but leaning into your touch nonetheless. 

Your dangerous commissions started to lessen as he refused to let you take on the most harmful of enemies without him. After all, he had no idea what he would do if he lost you. 

Xiao’s favorite thing to do with you is sit at the top of Wangshu Inn or even just the cliff sides of Liyue and bask in your attention and presence. He practically glowed under your loving gaze and from the light brushes of your hand against his. He had known the land for thousands of years and he had seen the most beautiful of landscapes in his time guarding it. He thought that he had seen every stunning thing in this world, that was at least until he met you. 

Your bravery, resilience, and overwhelming beauty had completely captured him, and as time went on he fell further and further for you. The life he envisioned the two of you to live together was a calm and peaceful one. He knew it probably wouldn’t be possible with the nature of both of your responsibilities and his own life span, but an adeptus could still dream.  

Now as much as Xiao wants to protect you, he can’t really leave Liyue. He’s able to help you when you’re here with him, but he’s essentially powerless when you go to Mondstadt. Of course, he’s entertained the thought of just leaving for a bit and staying by your side to protect you. In the end, he always lets you leave for work with a light kiss to your forehead and a heavy feeling in his heart. 

You had accustomed him to your soft affections and gentle mannerisms. He was always reluctant in letting you leave, but he trusted your abilities and simply had to stew in his reluctance when you were gone. He often told you to simply call out his name if you were in trouble and he’d be there in a moment. To this you would simply smile and reassure him with soft kisses to the top of his head. It was a miracle when he had managed to convince you to take on more commissions and bounties in the Liyue area. It made it easier for him to come to your side for aid and also to watch over you. It also allowed for more frequent dates, which made both of you incredibly happy. 

You always had the most interesting stories from your time adventuring. When you two were relaxing on loving moonlight nights, he looked forward to the smile on your face when you spoke in detail about your commissions. He was silent and let you speak, paying full attention to you. Xiao loved the silence and peace. He hated when humans would talk for hours on end, it was unnecessary and wasted his time. However, this sentiment didn’t carry on with you. 

He often urged you to talk about your day and the people you met. Xiao does everything he can to coax more of your sweet voice out. Your voice had always been like music to his ears. For you, he could bear not being alone. For you, he was carving out hours of his day to cuddle and listen to you speak. 

That was until everything changed with your adventuring routes. Previously, right after you switched from Mondstadt routes, the Guild had kept you near the Wangshu Inn and around the Qingce Village area. However, due to increased demand for your services, you had been moved South towards Liyue Harbor. The adventures you went on now were much simpler, but much more boring. You’d complain to your boyfriend about how you had to talk to too many people and how exhausting it was for you. Xiao would listen intently and offer a comforting embrace, silently happy that at least you weren’t out risking your life every day.  

His concern began when you moved on from random requests and commissions with different people to a more stable and consistent job. You had accepted a job from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor as a one time thing, but your skill and agreeability had earned you a more permanent position there. 

Your day to day job was to just assist and protect different members with finding and restoring relics across Liyue. However, it allowed you to move around more and actually engage in combat, a welcome change from before. You had helped the director herself, but your favourite employee to work with was Mr. Zhongli.  He was a tall and serious man, but he was powerful and amusing to talk to. 

The first adventure you had gone on with him, you couldn’t stop talking about it with Xiao when you came home that night. One adventure turned into ten quite quickly as the two of you made a habit of engaging in all your commissions with the parlor together. Zhongli as your companion in travel gave you a sense of stability and a feeling of safety when you were out in dangerous situations again. 

Every night you came back, you told Xiao about the mysterious and strong man’s aid to you. The passion you spoke of his power and of his intelligence in the culture of Liyue surprised him at first. As you kept talking about Zhongli, Xiao started to feel different. He was no longer eager to hear of your adventures because he felt something very strange now. 

Xiao has never felt afraid. At least, not truly. He is not afraid of death as he had accepted it long ago. Yet now you had given him something to live for and losing you would leave him back into a pit of despair, suffering, longing, and emptiness. Seeing you gush over the assistant to the funeral director filled him with a new unpleasant feeling. Heart numbing fear. 

He was careful to not let you know how he felt. He was nervous that you would view him as pitiful for what he truly felt in his heart. Bile would fill up in his throat when you talked about that man as he held your full attention. In response, Xiao would start to capture your mouth with a kiss if he sensed that you’d talk about Zhongli on your dates. It got you to shut up and restored his happiness for a moment. 

He felt guilty for interrupting you of course. Yet, he couldn’t muster up the courage to confront his own feelings of insecurity. The best he could do was try to prove to you how much he could offer. As his kisses began to get more heated, he found it fit to use his strength to carry you back to your shared bedroom. 

Out of curiosity, Xiao decided to actually look at this Mr. Zhongli one day. If he was feeling insecure before, oh man, any self confidence he had was now wrecked. The man was absolutely perfect with you. 

You were smiling and walking through the harbor-city side by side with the sharply dressed golden eyed man. The walk that the two of you had was powerful. The men and women of Liyue whispered behind you two about how cute the both of you were. Xiao silently watched as you two sat at the tea house and drank tea in silence. Zhongli had never taken his loving and intent gaze off of you. The Yaksha took in more of the man’s appearance. He was much taller than Xiao was and carried himself with a royal sort of dignity. As the two of you finished your tea, the man made a move to pay for your tea by charging it to the funeral parlor. He’s rich too, Xiao thinks sourly. What doesn’t he have? He has enough when Zhongli’s resoundingly deep voice tells you how well you fought today. If Xiao sounded like that he would never want to shut up.  

He goes back into his bad habits of distancing himself and retreating back into his own silence. His awful self loathing that you worked hard to remove has manifested itself again and begun lashing out on you. Brushing you off, short snappy responses, and hardly responding to anything. This results in you thinking you did something wrong. 

Oh how the adeptus breaks when he sees you try to make him Almond Tofu and various other small gifts to please him. He knows you didn’t do anything, but all he wants is you to free yourself from him and spend your life with someone who could provide so much more than he could. 

In your shared bedroom, he would be physically present, but he was silent and hardly even looked at you. He could hear your muffled tears at night when you thought he was asleep. It took everything within him to not turn to you and let you lay your head in his chest and leave kisses across your face after he dried away your tears. It hurt him again when he heard you asking Verr Goldet if she could help you plan a nice surprise for him. As he stayed to listen, he had to listen to the innkeeper give you kind words as you broke down explaining what it was for.

All your advances towards his forgiveness and love go rejected. He decides that it would be better for you in the long run if it was like this. He stays cold, at least until he sees something that pushes him back to your side. 

His pity party and moping is interrupted by the strangest feeling in his heart. Something painful crackles and burns inside of him. He’s not sure how he knows, but he feels that something is very wrong with you. 

Xiao was not called the adeptus of speed for no reason. The speed in which he reached you was one he had not used for hundreds of years. 

You weren’t in any life threatening danger, but the bond that you two shared was. He could see Zhongli gently move a strand of your hair behind your ear. You had a more nervous smile on your face. 

“How fascinating, Y/N” his voice breaks the silence, “Your abilities seem to get stronger every day,” he continues praising you.

Your face flushes a light pink and you look down, breaking the gaze between you two. “You’re too kind, Mr. Zhongli, but I wouldn’t have been able to grow so much without your guidance,”

The golden eyed man smiles at this as he leans in slightly closer to you, “In that case, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” 

Xiao clears his throat as he steps out from the bushes and stalks towards you with a glower on his face. You look at your lover in surprise, not seeing or hearing his voice in quite some time. 

“Actually, she’s already taken so you can take your leave now,” his words filled with venom. He doesn’t even try to be subtle as he holds his emerald spear by his side in warning to the man who tried to make a move on you. 

Zhongli nods, “I understand, sorry for intruding,” as he leaves. Xiao’s watchful gaze not leaving him until he’s far out of sight. Your adeptus moves to your side and engulfs you in a warm hug that he wishes to convey all of his feelings of love into. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, it was unnecessary and you didn’t even do anything wrong. Give me a chance,” he seldom begs, “please,” he adds. His golden eyes piercing into your soul and displaying such regret. 

You don’t respond, but you lean closer to him and press your lips softly against his. He forgot how much he missed this. 

Oh how stupid he was for not letting you know how much he adored you known more. Well, now he had the time to make it up to you. He brings you towards the cliffside and the two of you sit down together once more, the bond shared between you too also renewed. 

As you look at him, he lets you lean on his shoulder and look at the sun’s light beginning to wane as the sky was touched with beautiful pastel pinks and purples. 

“I love you, Y/N” he whispers softly as he nuzzles his face into your H/C hair. 

“Hmm, I love you too, Xiao,” you respond sweetly and relax under his presence.

The brown haired Archon chuckled lightly as he watched his Adeptus gently place his arm around your waist. He was happy that the cold guardian had finally found someone to love and someone to take care of him in return. When the time was necessary, Morax was ready to bring a contract to let the two of you spend the rest of eternity together, as two soulmates should. 

a/n Hope you enjoyed it! Leave a like and some feedback, please.

[dreamrecorder]

Two - Family in the Inn

Witnessing your first five years of life, Xiao concludes that you are a keenly perceptive child.

One

Notes: Lookie~ a part two!! If you read Playing with the Wind, then you know who Brother Wind is ;) i will add the cut thingy tomorrow ksks

At the dead of the night, whispers float here and there with words that no mortal can hear and understand. They were faint, yet there was a thrill of excitement in these words. And just like the excitement the words carry, the winds pick up in a gentle and playful breeze.

To any mortal, all they would hear will be the rush of air that rustles the leaves and branches. However, there is a certain lad who hears them all. He hears the glee in these whispers tossed back and forth among the winds. He hears the wind spirits and he listens with a strum of his lyre.

Brother Wind! A child! A child!

We see a child, Brother Wind! We see a child!

A child under our brother, Demon Wind's Golden Wing!

We hear a sibling! A sibling!

Brother Wind! Do we have a new kin?

Ah, these spirits, always excited at the prospect of a new sibling. But the lad can't blame his kin for the wind spirits are always playful and innocent by nature.

Witnessing your first five years of life, Xiao concludes that you are a keenly perceptive child. He does this conclusion during a quiet night at the balcony of their home, Wangshu Inn.

Every night was a simple routine- wherein Xiao would carry you in his arms and sing a lullaby to lull you asleep. After which he would tuck you into your waiting bed, then he would go out to protect Liyue again. But for tonight, that simple routine was broken down by cheerful whispers of the wind.

Usually, Xiao would ignore these, knowing that these spirits wanted to simply mess and play with him. And usually the result would be the said spirits pestering him even more until Xiao just gives up and vanishes without a trace.

When the breeze picked up and the first wave of whispers came, what Xiao didn't expect was you to bolt right away from his hold and chase these spirits around shouting, "Wind spirits! Wind Spirits! Gēgē, can you see them?!"

At your gleeful eyes, the gentle breeze picked up in a brief moment of rush as it whispers,

They see us! They hear us!

Do you want to play with us, Little Wind?

Brother Demon Wind, can we play with Little Wind?

Of course, seeing the joy in your eyes, Xiao can't help but allow play time with a soft smile. Yet, he does not fail to remind you of your bedtime, "An hour, alright? Then you have to go to bed."

At his words, you beamed at him. Your little legs ran and with tiny arms, you hugged his legs. Looking up you exclaimed, "Thank you, gēgē!"

Ah but before you can run back to the winds, Xiao gently tugged your arm and grabbed your attention.

"Name?"

"Yes, gēgē?"

For a brief moment, Xiao carefully thought through his words. Your spiritual awareness... was quite alarming for him. "How did you know these are wind spirits?"

You hummed a bit as your body swayed in thought. "I don't know! But they feel like I played with them a lot of times before! Like-! Um, like..."

Then you're back to humming as you look for words with your brother patiently waiting.

"Aha! Like how you would play with me with your anemo!! Can I play with them now, gēgē?"

Another smile and another yes, you were now free to play with the wind!!

Play with us! Play with us, Little Wind! Thank you brother Demon Wind!

From that, Xiao concludes that you are a perceptive child. No mortal can even sense the most simplest of spirits, yet you felt them off the bat just because how much time the two of you played with his anemo. No wonder you learned quickly of his being as an adeptus. Worrisome, maybe? For such spiritual awareness also includes unkind spirits. But, at least he knows he can trust the Thousand Winds to look after you.

~~~

You were back in Liyue Harbor again, this time with your father. Since this was your second time, you were not familiar with the harbor yet. Thus, you kept close to your father as he bought the books needed for your upcoming education.

Books never failed to claim your interest, as they are always filled with stories that makes your imagination bloom in wonder. As such, books also never fail have your interest over them wane. However, for once, your interest was stolen by a cheerful voice singing along the strums of a lyre. Looking around, you find the source of such music. You couldn't see the singer, but with curiosity, you started moving towards the lull.

Thanks to your brother's anti-social skills and your small frame, you somehow got to slip through the crowd with ease as you let out occasional excuse me's. At first, the density was intimidating, but your curiosity for the bard and his voice became your motivation.

However, despite your best efforts, you didn't get to see the performance as the crowd began applauding and then going onto separate ways. To say the least, you were saddened, but when you saw the face behind music- happiness and recognition shone in your eyes.

"Brother Wind!"

Nobody- no mortal calls him that and Venti froze but thawing in an instant as he came to realization. There's only one person- one mortal who would call him that. A mortal that his kin would share stories about in glee.

"Little Wind?"

The winds always whisper words here and there. Yet these words that float amongst the leaves fluttering in the wind are never heard nor understood by mortal ears.

All except you.

The wind always tell you stories, and one of them is Brother Wind. A bard who hails from the City of Freedom and sings day and night with his words carried by his very essence. An essence you were familiar with when playing with the spirits and with your brother.

The Little Wind and Brother Wind meets! What joy! What joy!

Let us look for brother Demon Wind to tell and enjoy!

~~~

Seeing his little sibling walk hand in hand with the stupid bard had irked Xiao. With quick and agile movements, Xiao picked you up and glared at the grinning Venti. He whispered angrily at the wind, to which only the Archon can hear. Your status as Archon be damned but I am not letting you near him/her if you still have your ridiculous drinking habits.

Oh come on, Xiao! You know I would never drink in front of a child, much more in front of your little sibling!

Xiao only glared some more but Venti only kept grinning and you are getting weirded out by their contest. Probably an adult thing, you thought.

Throughout Venti's stay in the inn, it had become an embarrassing ride for Xiao. The former would poke fun at him every now and then about how he's gone soft and Xiao is this *close* to kicking him out. But he can't becuase of how suddenly attached you became to the bard. And maybe- maybe there was this twinge in his heart.

It was something that happens occasionally. A thought of doubt resurfacing in his head whenever he's alone while battling the hidden evils of the land. With geniune honesty, Xiao feels truly blessed to have you- but there are times in the darkest pits of his head, that everything he has right now- he does not deserve.

Venti would make for a better bro-

"Hey, Name, among me, the spirits, and Xiao, who's the best playmate?" Venti asked you as you colored on your notebook.

And without even missing a second, you shouted that one word again that pulled Xiao away from the dark thoughts that were about to resurface.

"Gēgē!"

But you didn't stop.

"Gege is the best in everything! He lets me play with his anemo always! And then when we play, he always lets me choose the game first and then we take turns choosing! Not only play time! There's also story time! Gēgē has the best stories! He told me stories about the glaze lillies, the Geo Archon, and the Adepti!

And then we always eat Almond Tofu if it's story time! It's so yummy and sweet and soft! Even Achi Xiangling and mama, papa and Uncle Yanxiao love gēgē's Almond Tofu! You have to try it too Brother Wind!"

All that and you finished with a proud huff of your breath!!

And all throughout, Xiao could only look at you wide teary wide eyes with mouth agape. Seeing him, you pouted, "G-gēgē, d-did I say something wrong?"

At your question, he quickly snapped out of his stupor and hugged you tight. "You did nothing wrong." He quickly reassured as he kissed your forehead.

"Then why are you crying?"

Xiao then wiped his eyes and chuckled lightly, "This is what you call happy tears, Name."

"I didn't make you sad then?"

Again, Xiao hugged you close and he felt your tiny arms do the same, "You made me the happiest than you would ever know since the moment you were born. I- I love you so much, Name."

"I love you, too, gēgē!"

Venti and the Thousand Winds had etched this moment in their memory forever. After all, this was the first time they saw their brother Demon Wind experience and reciprocate pure, genuine love to another. And on the notebook you were coloring on, was a rough drawing of you and Xiao sharing a fresh plate of almond tofu <3.

A/N: and thats it for the second ksks!! I wonder what comes next??? To those who ship xiaoven- i'll say sorry in advance bcos in terms of background relationships- it's venti and zhongli, the old geezers ksks i just love those two together lmao

Taglist: @hanniejji @suckerforgenshinboys @arson-frog-art @anime-read-write-repeat @kryzi

if you wanna get tagged just send an ask^^

[ladyartemesia]

Yooo your love story straight out seems like an e2l slow burn tumblr fic. Do you have any plans using at as a plot?? I would def read it 👀

I don’t know if I would truly call it enemies-to-lovers because—although I got irritated with him and his behavior and did snap at him from time to time—we were not really enemies. In fact we were barely friends for most of the years we knew each other—

Well.

Ok. So that’s not totally true...

We fought online constantly. From the time we graduated college (where his crush first developed and I routinely forgot his name) the two of us were always fighting on social media—usually about politics—and occasionally about other things but both of us were too smart to ever truly get the better of each other so there was a grudging respect, (his mom said he used to yell at his computer screen about me). We had it OUT several times online even though we rarely—if ever—spoke in person.

My poor sweet boy DID get himself in trouble over me in more ways than one though—even if we’re weren’t close yet...

His college girlfriend set him up to fail asked him who he would date if the two of them weren’t together and he answered immediately—vehemently—

“Viola. I would definitely date Viola if I could.”

🤦🏻‍♀️ (oh...honey...no)

(That would become a huge THING in their relationship. Every time they got into a fight his ex would shout “why don’t you just go date VIOLA then?!”—When he married me he said he felt like a real winner in that particular collection of conflicts. Playing the long game I guess 🤣😂)

Back then I was all about the music/dramatic arts scene and I was dating a string of empty headed pretty boys who bored me nigh unto death because I was young and completely stupid.

In contrast my someday-boo was painfully quiet and shy (though not really with me because he was too busy trying to prove me wrong), but everyone who met him or spoke to him really liked him and respected him.

After college we were were still in the same extended social circle (and—as previously mentioned—fighting online), but I went to grad school and my not-yet-husband decided to chill for awhile and take a job as a landscaper while he figured his life out and... here’s where it gets complicated because...

—that’s where the girls came in. You see... he’s always been a really nice guy... maybe a little too nice 🤦🏻‍♀️

The term fuqboi tends to conjure up impressions of a cocky frat bro who slyly shags his way through a mountain of willing women with disconnected efficiency and a subtext of emotional constipation.

But that would not be the case here.

You see my husband is a listener. He’s an INFP. He, unlike many of his brethren, understands emotions and can really make a woman feel seen. Combine that with his good looks, brilliant mind, and broody nerditude and you have a recipe for women who were ‘just friends’ randomly dropping to their knees (and a lot more) for him.

Never one to stand in the way of a lady’s dreams, pre-me-hubby figured that if they were that determined to (*insert miscellaneous sexy stuff here*) with him then—well—he’d let them.

I mean why not, right? No harm done.

Wrong. 🤬

And here is where our paths truly began to merge (in the real world) for the first time.

As the FOURTH girl (just in my friend group) he graciously allowed (🤦🏻‍♀️) to have her wicked way with him sobbed in my arms, I became determined to put this ridiculous man-child IN his PLACE—this time in the tactile world as well as the virtual one.

...Poor Liz

She realized that he had absolutely no desire whatsoever to be in a relationship with anything other than his WoW account and she was insistent that he had broken her heart.

So I cornered him and we had it out. (Call me meddlesome, but to be fair he was four friends deep at this point.)

The problem was that... the more I talked to him...the more he was not really what I expected... I found myself...oddly...intrigued?

Later it would come out that I was the first girl—ever—that he actually pursued. And I was not even aware of it for like the first three months.

He was pretty slick after all when it came down to it.

That man convinced me to ‘help him’ with women—to make sure he didn’t get himself into another situation where some girl with heart eyes was tearing off his clothes and expecting commitment.

HE ASKED ME TO BE HIS ‘EXCUSE.’

🤦🏻‍♀️(...I know. I’m an idiot.)

“We can hang out. You’ll teach me how to spot if a girl is about to catch feelings and take off my pants. And I will have an excuse when they call as to why we can’t hang out” (—and ...they really were always calling. It was wild.)

....I mean he WAS shy! It SEEMED plausible!

So yeah my dim self agreed to it. (🤦🏻‍♀️)

I considered it a valiant attempt to save the rest of my social circle from the most clueless ‘accidental’ fuqboi on planet earth and maybe even an opportunity to teach him how to be a real human being and what not.

And before you think ‘fake dating’—we weren’t. We were just hanging out as friends. You see when I went to yell at him (and chased him down after he laughed at me and tried to escape) we ended up talking in his car for like four hours. And then that happened like three more times randomly so... I... actually... wanted... to be his friend... 🤷🏻‍♀️

I was still 110% not interested romantically.

Your girl (me) was after some bland banker dude (🤦🏻‍♀️) and so I blissfully fell into friendship with my actual soulmate without a single second thought. And I never worried about either of us catching feelings because I had a crush on someone else and he had heavily implied that I was not his type. (He told me later that I just assumed this and he simply never corrected me 🙄)

I don’t remember falling for him. I never decided to. I never thought about it...

But one day after the whole crew was hanging out at a restaurant (and the waiter kept giving me free drinks which may have pissed my once-and-future man off) the two of us went out to his car to have our customary three hour post-chill chat...

I was teasing him about something—some girl he was still attempting to untangle himself from—and I said—as had become my habit (seriously I said this so many times as a joke)—“It’s too bad I’m not your type—you could just tell her you have a girlfriend.”

(Now. I know what you’re thinking. But I was still firmly on team platonic ok! I was just a flirt. And maybe part of me was starting to feel weird things about him—but those feelings weren’t like anything I recognized so I thought I just needed to cut back on sugar or something.)

(Have I mentioned I’m an idiot?)

ANYWAYS he looked me right in the eye. So serious. And instead of saying “that’s too bad”—LIKE he ALWAYS did—he said—

“You...are my type, Viola... You’re exactly my type.”

To which I responded—“....What? No I’m not. You said I wasn’t.”

“Never said that. You assumed.”

“You LET me!”

—followed by a good ten minutes of me having an existential crisis/yelling at him for allowing me to believe he didn’t find me attractive and lulling me into a false sense of security. He was infuriatingly unapologetic.

At the end of it all he asked me to give him—give us—a chance.

And I agreed to go out on a few dates with him (mostly to prove to myself that there was nothing there).

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

The only thing I ended up proving was that I was wrong about what I wanted and even more wrong about what I needed.

You see...

Those weird feelings turned out to be love.

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

And it was a really special experience to sit in a room full of girls who had cried in my arms over him—girls I had lectured repeatedly on the dangers of his heartless ways— and admit that I was his girlfriend.

🤦🏻‍♀️

Love was—and continues to be—nothing like I expected and frankly I couldn’t be happier.

... to answer your questions

1. I have considered writing a fic based on our story called Broken Road. The title is taken from an old Rascal Flatts song that—as insanely cheesy as it is—really reminds me of us. Don’t know if I will actually write this. Thought about it a lot though.

2. Tags I would use for this story?

#enemies-to-lovers / #idiots-to-lovers / #college au / #outgoing!fem reader(me) x shy nerd!accidental fuqboi / #reader is also a huge nerd actually / #she’s just a loud one / #frenemies-to-lovers / #the love is requited / #they’re just idiots / #pining (his) / denial (mine) / #reader has terrible taste in men / #except for that last one / #she really redeemed herself there at the end

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

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Hi! First of all, thank you so much for running this blog, It's become one of three reasons why I haven't yet committed arson (I jest but the Feeling is true). [Hee, hee, hee.] I have a rec for you! It's called "wholesome life usurp immediately" by comfect on ao3 and it's. So good. It's unfinished but the author updates it literally every other day if not faster! It's a lovely fic, I hope you enjoy it. 🌻

Wholesome Life Usurp Immediately

by Comfect (T, 55k, yunmeng sibs, qingli, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: Wen Qing examines Jiang Yanli at Cloud Recesses and has a cure for her poor cultivation.

Now there are Three Prides of Yunmeng.

Everything kind of fixes itself from there.

~*~

hello mojo!! I would really like to recommend standing still (but we keep going) by lwjromantics!! it's really good!!

standing still (but we keep going)

by lwjromantics (justfantaestic) (T, 5k, wangxian)

Summary: Lan Wangji supposed that if having to take care of little A-Yuan and Mo Xuanyu and having to look at the reminders of Wei Ying in their habits and mannerisms was punishment for his actions, he would willingly take it and flay his own back open.

— There are children in the Burial Mounds.

~*~

hii mojo! I just read this cute fic and I loved it so I wanted to rec it :) 

Word Up, Talk the Talk

by Larryissocute (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary:  It wouldn’t have been a problem (it really wouldn’t) if they weren’t best friends. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what good deeds he did in his past life to be blessed with Lan Wangji as a friend nor does he know what evil things he did to be cursed with being only a friend to Lan Wangji.

Or the one where Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji and then runs away.

~*~

Hey! Love your account — and proud of you for taking the hiatus you needed.  [Lol - it was really nice!]  Idk if you take fic recommendations, but I'd love to rec Roots by ardenrabbit. Fantastic characterization, I really love it!

Roots

by ardenrabbit (E, 46k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  After Wei Wuxian's duel with Jiang Cheng, he finds that stab wounds aren't so trivial when he doesn't have a core to heal them. He wakes to find Lan Zhan in the Burial Mounds with him, already beloved by the Wens and making himself at home. When Lan Zhan tells him that he wants to stay and offers more help than Wei Wuxian knows how to accept, he fears that it's only too good to be true.

Lan Wangji knows that Wei Ying is doing the right thing, and he couldn't live with himself if he let him do it alone. For everything Wei Ying has sacrificed, Lan Wangji is determined to give something back to him.

Hanguang-Jun has turned his back on the clans to join the Yiling Wens and their demonic cultivator leader, and every clan has a different opinion on the matter.

~*~

Hello! I wanted to rec a fic on ao3 called "Restoration" by jelenedra. It's complete, an alternate universe of the sunshot campaign told nonlinearly. It has strong fairy tale and fae elements, with a touch of mystery. Bit of a fix it. Some delightful one liners, and the final ending imagery is just LOVELY. The fic deserves much more love. There's also some YilingWei, wwx not raised by Jiang, and sentient Burial Mounds elements. Enchanting read that keeps you enthralled and curious and intrigued.

Restoration

by jelenedra (M, 85k, wangxian)

Summary:  They say he was thrown into Luanzang Gang by the man who killed his parents; they say that he is an immortal cultivator who had been in a deep trance until the Wen sect disturbed his rest and incurred his wrath; they say that he is the fierce corpse of a cultivator who had somehow regained his mind and his spiritual powers.

When Lan Wangji sees him for the first time, he understands why people talk.

Meng Yao wants safety. Xue Yang wants vengeance. The Sunshot Campaign wants victory. Yiling Laozu provides, for a price.

~*~

I usually read all your recommendations. Thanks for gathering all good recs of wangxian. I am in love with every single story your recommend especially the favorites. [I’m so glad!]  I just wanted to suggest a fic i came across while searching for phoenix!wwx. Its a new story I think as author has published it today. The first chapter was very interesting that i thought ill recommend it you and know your opinion. The legendary phoenix and his dragon -Devipriya and Hidden Path to Love by ShadowTenshiV

Hidden Path to Love

by ShadowTenshiV (G, 78k, wangxian)

Summary:  Wei Ying is a servant working at the Gusu Lan castle. One day he enters through a secret passage way connected to the library where he meets a Lan for the first time. He may have left quite an impression, gaining the other´s attention and slowly becoming friends. They would like to become something more, but a servant can´t be with a prince, but maybe his secret can change that.

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hello mojo! i was wondering if I could make a fic rec? it’s called “and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow” by izanyas. it used to be on ao3 but the author has since moved it to eir own website and has started posting updates there. i was wondering if this could also act as a signal boost bc some old readers on ao3 might not have known that it is now on another website.   Author's been through a tough time so I think it deserves a lot more love.

For new readers, please mind the warnings in the prologue and the beginning of each chapter! it’s omegaverse and a very heavy read as it deals with (possible spoiler) off-screen rape that results in an unwanted pregnancy, as well as secondary gender oppression which runs deep, but for people who can bear it the writing, worldbuilding, and emotions are truly spectacular.

and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow

by izanyas (E, 270k, wangxian, WIP, link is to WordPress rather than AO3)

Summary: Cangse Sanren was the first of her kind to become a cultivator. Talented, passionate, free-spirited, she bested everything that ever came her way until the very end.

Jiang Fengmian refuses to see her son deprived of that same freedom.

~*~

Hello Mojo! I dunno if this's been recced before, but here's another ficrec for you? It's complete, on ao3, "The Third Young Master of Qishan Wen" by KouriArashi. It's 'if wwx was raised by dafan wen, but gets recognized as 3rd heir due to his skill' scenario. Some really nice banter and characterization. Wwx and lz get together before the sunshot campaign. Story follows the live action but diverges into au, and does some cool callbacks to original canon. Love Meng Yao in this!  [Oh, I know KouriArashi from my last fandom, I love her works!]

❤️The Third Young Master of the Qishan Wen

by KouriArashi (T, 139k, wangxian, my post)

Summary:  The fic where Wei Wuxian is adopted by the Dafan Mountain Wens instead of the Yunmeng Jiang.

~*~

Hi Mojo! I can count the number of times I’ve spoken on Tumblr on one hand (I’m shy heh) but I found this fic that I think you and others would really like? I’m a sucker for emotional hurt/comfort and this was just too sweet for me not to share (did I go through 20 pages of bookmarks just to make sure you don’t already have it? Maybe …) [Aww, you can do a sidebar search in the bookmarks for the author’s name.  But I hope you found other good fics by carding through the whole catalog!]  It’s “Close Your Soft Eyes” by timetoboldlygo! I also wanna say thank you for all the hard work you put into this blog! It’s a treasure beyond compare. :D [Thank you so much!]

Close Your Soft Eyes

by timetoboldlygo (G, 12k, wangxian)

Summary:  When Lan Wangji woke, the first thing he noticed was the slip of paper, folded and tucked between his index and middle fingers, not Wei Wuxian’s absence. His fingers trembled as he unfurled the paper. A donkey with a little smile beamed down at him.

-

On the nights that Wei Wuxian was gone, Lan Wangji woke to gifts on his pillow.

~*~

Hey Mojo! I love your blog it is beyond awesome! [Thank you!]  I was wondering if you would consider reading JaenysBloodcourt series "A Bond to Takes us home"? The summary is weird but I like the fics and would love to hear your opinion on LWJ POV (it's part 2). Part one is Mingxian but part two (Wangxian) reads as a standalone for the most part. Anyways, thank you for all your hard work! <3 [I’ll put it on my list!]

A Bond to Take Us Home

by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 10k, mingxian - nmj/wwx, wangxian, series in progress)

Summary:  Wei Wuxian has two soulmarks. He has two soulmates that seem to be the opposite of him. During his first life he meets both of them, loves only one and longs for the other. In his second life, the one he loved first is dead, and the one he pined after is pining after him.

These are the many tales of his soulmates and the raucous they made across the cultivation world.

Some are dark, some are light. Beware.

~*~

I forgot to send this in for Mother's Day a few weeks ago, but have you read dragongirlG's "into the light of a dark black night"? It's a short canon divergence where Mama Lan escapes the Cloud Recesses after spending one last, heartbreaking night with her sons. It's so beautiful and bittersweet! [Oh, ouch.  I just read this author’s time travelling juniors au, but hadn’t seen this one.]

into the light of a dark black night

by dragongirlG (T, 3k, Madam Lan & sons)

Summary:  The night that Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, plans to escape from the Cloud Recesses, she runs into an unexpected complication.

That complication comes in the form of her younger son A-Zhan running up to her door and kneeling in front of it, hushed whimpers escaping from his throat.

Wu Yuhua knows it's not the full moon, knows that it's not the one day a month she's allowed to see her children—but like hell is she going to leave her six-year-old son out there trying to stifle sobs in the snow.

She opens the door. "A-Zhan," she says, bending down and reaching out a hand. "Come in, my sweet boy."

On a snowy night in the dead of winter, Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, unexpectedly spends one last night with her sons before escaping from the Cloud Recesses.

~*~

Hello queen I’d like to recommend for ur follower rec posts Avatar: The Untamed Waterbender by KouriArashi. Banger of an ATLA au, def the best one I’ve seen. It’s a WIP but the author updates pretty regularly and it’s all around an A+ fic [Oh, yes, I’ve been waiting for this one to finish before I jump in.]

Avatar: The Untamed Waterbender

by KouriArashi (T, 123k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  You know the drill. Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

100 years later, Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli find Wei Wuxian sealed in an iceberg.

Featuring: avatar WWX, waterbending JC, firebending Wens, airbending Lans, earthbending Nies and Jins, Jiang Yanli in possession of the brain cell, et cetera.

~*~

[My ko-fi.]

[deadlymodern]

*taps mic*

Umm, hello. Welcome to my presentation.

Hi! ✨

Since I'm rebranding and starting a new "volume" of my story, I decided to create a master recap for you lads. I think this was also a good moment to post this because I've received some new followers/readers that might be confused on what the fuck is happening.

Honestly, this was the only way I could make it work hfudihhiudf. Hope it was useful.

Obviously this recap doesn't have half the lore or depth you'd get from reading the whole story, but it should be enough to refresh your memory and/or for you to get into Where the Waves Crash without being clueless!

I'll place some links here, anyways, just in case someone is interested:

STORY'S MAIN PAGE | FULL STORY CHRONO | CHARACTER'S PAGE

✨ I'll also place a more complete written version of this recap with links to key chapters under the cut ✨

Thank you all for the support on the "rebrand", it really has made me feel even more inspired and motivated to continue with this hobby 🥺💙 

BETHANY

Beth was born to a family of farmers in Brindleton, a coastal village in rural England.

She’d help around the farm and care for her two younger brothers, Edward and Matthew, while also attending school, by her mother's request. 

At school, she became very close to her friend, Mary.

Her mother passed away during the birth of her youngest brother, Phillip. For that reason, her father, Edgar, pulled her out of school.

Mary would visit and sleep over often to keep her company.

As time passed, Beth realized she had romantic feelings for her friend. Even though they were reciprocated, Mary’d always push her away.

Before leaving to Finishing School, Mary accepted her feelings. The two girls began a romantic relationship.

While the girls were apart, Beth got to know William - a young man she met previously - better. They became good friends. She also developed a smoking habit through him.

Without her father’s approval, Beth attempted to get into the local College for a literature course, but failed her exam.

After a heated argument, Beth made a deal with her father to get married in exchange of permission to retake the exam and get a higher education.

While Mary was in Bridleton for the holidays, Beth officially proposed to her by giving her her later mother’s ring.

Beth kept writing weekly letters, but got confused and hurt when Mary suddenly stopped writing back.

Her father told her the truth about his nervousness in allowing her to pursue higher education, which made her feel even more emotionally trapped.

Adding up to it, her dear friend William asked for her hand in marriage, leaving her  lonely and lost 

Finally, she learnt about Mary’s engagement and reached a breaking point. Not enough to make her cry, but a breaking point nonetheless.

Beth is left unsure of what she will do with her life. She knows she has a choice to make, but she’d rather not have to make any decisions ever again.

MARY

Mary met Beth when they were 6 years old, on their way to school.

She was the one who instigated their first kiss. And their second. But also pushed her away once or twice due to fear.

She came to terms with her feelings before she left to Finishing School in Germany.

And kept in touch with Beth weekly through letters.

During her Winter break, Mary travelled back home. She then promised to leave everything behind and be with Beth once finished.

For that reason, Mary denied her suitor’s proposal. 

Her father, Charles, became suspicious and found her exchanged letters, which led to him blackmailing Mary into becoming engaged.

Mary wrote a last letter to Beth explaining the situation, but it was intercepted by the School’s headmistress, by Charles’ request.

Believing that Beth is informed, Mary goes on with her parent’s preparations for her wedding and gets ready for her School graduation.

TIMOTHY

Tim had been a close acquaintance of Mary for years and was expected to become her husband one day.

He was told to propose to her. She denied him at first, but said yes the second time.

Tim mentioned a family holiday to Normouth in July, and Mary’s father took the opportunity to set a date and location to their wedding.

During his last month in town, Tim went to an exhibit where he saw Will and Beth. He, then, bought a Kodak from William’s father. 

Tim is currently on his way to his family’s estate in Normouth for their holidays. Mary’s family is expected to join them in a couple of weeks.

WILLIAM

William met Beth during Mary’s 16th birthday ball.

He was the one who instigated her to pursue an higher education.

He is currently  in a Business major at Battlemere College as a request from his father, but is truly passionate about film. Here & here.

Started to fall in love with Beth as their friendship grew. Here and here.

Which eventually led to him proposing to Beth. 

William is yet to receive Beth’s answer, but is patiently waiting for it.

EDWARD

In childhood, Ned had a good relationship with his older sister.

They had a fall back once he announced he didn’t want a higher education.

Ned began noticing his sister’s suspicious behaviours, but always failed in an attempt to reconnect/get her to speak to him about it.

And, as time went by, the contrast between his and his siblings’ beliefs became more apparent.

Already suspicious of his sister’s relationship with Mary, Ned attempted to get on her good side by comforting her. Yet, it only pushed her away even more.

SUSANNA

Sue was a good friend of Beth’s, even though they’ve always had different opinions. It was through this friendship that Sue met Ned.

Sue and Ned weren’t very close in childhood. But they developed good communication and, eventually, fell in love.

They got engaged but were told to wait until Beth was wedded to be able to marry.

Even though the wedding was on stand-by, preparations were still being made.

After the Norman family’s horse passed away, Edward’s father decided to reconsider his decision and allowed Ned and Sue to set a date for the wedding so they could use Sue’s dowry to afford a new horse.

Sue is eagerly waiting for her dream Autumn wedding and her life alongside Ned and his family.

MATTHEW

Matt always felt different and distant from his family. He’s an introverted person, which made him very observant. 

He started to notice how his sister was treated differently from their brothers.

Matt backed Beth up in every situation against their father’s conservative views and helped her keep herself educated, in case she’d retake her exam. Here and here

He had a brief relationship with a local girl named Charlotte.

But, a couple of years later, was spotted kissing a man by lake Battlemere - though people couldn’t identify him.

He kept pretending nothing happened, in an attempt to get things to normal, and eventually got accepted into the local College.

Finally, he told Beth the truth about his sexuality.

Matt is very excited to introduce his boyfriend to Beth and to finally move out of their farm.

PHILLIP & DOROTHY

Phillip’s mother died giving birth to him.

He found comfort getting involved with music from an early age. He later learnt it was a shared interest with his late mother. 

In the music group, he met Dorothy, a young girl from Willow Creek, USA.

Beth helped him bake biscuits to Dottie in an attempt to make her feel a bit better after the pub incident. 

Dorothy became friends with Phillip due to their common interest in music.

She Helped Phillip start getting some closure on the guilt he feels for his mothers death.

During a night out, Dottie was harassed by a man. Phillip tried defending her, but things couldn’t be fixed so simply. They talked about it as the encounter scared them both - on different levels. 

At the moment, Flip and Dottie are very good friends. Flip is infatuated by her, but is trying to suppress it because he knows she is still overwhelmed by the pub incident. Dottie is concerned with her reputation around the village.

[herstroywritten]

Their Aching Firsts.

I still have no excuse for my obsession with them. Not sure how I feel about this particular story, but I wanted to post something for the start of Rivusa week for the hell of it. It’s about 7k words (I apparently can’t stop writing them once I start and their works end up being endless). Oops.

Fair warning, there is a umm *spicy* scene near the end there. I don’t usually write those and I tried to keep it as vague as I could, but I thought I’d mention it anyways. Other than that, enjoy and let me know what you think!

The first times they kissed, it was fueled by anger- he grabbed, she pulled, they crashed.

The first time they talked about it, it wasn't so much a conversation of words as it was one of looks. His eyes said "I want you and it terrifies me." Her eyes said "I think I want you, too. And I think I'm finally ready to admit that."

The first time Musa realized her new favorite jacket was once his, she stares at herself in the mirror for over an hour. She misses lunch with the gang and Riven comes knocking at her door and opens it to find her standing in front of that mirror in a state of awe. She's bathed in black leather, sleeves reaching the tips of her fingertips.

"You ok?" Arms wrap around her waist as she toys with the hem of the jacket. She looks at him through the mirror and smiles.

"I just want you to know I'm never giving this back."

He huffs a laugh as he lets his head fall to her hair, breathing her in. Lavender and something sweet that he's never been able to pinpoint. "Not even if this falls apart?"

She whirls around to face him. "I don't intend on letting that happen." Her hands are on the collar of his shirt, eyes blazing with stubbornness. He knows then that her words are a promise, a commitment and not just a comment in passing.

"I don't know, Muse. You still have time to regret all this. Regret the ruin of your reputation. What will people say?" His words are teasing, but she can see right through them. She senses his vulnerability, his apprehension.

"There are a lot of things I regret in life- yelling at my mother when I was fourteen because I didn't want to clean my room, being a bit of a bitch to my suitemates at the start of the year, hiding instead of fighting because I was too scared to see what my powers could really do. The regrets are endless. But, you, Riven, are not one of them."

He frowns, blinks away the swarm of feelings within  him. "Yeah?"

She bunches her hands on his collar and pulls him down to her mouth. "Yeah."

"And what if I'm the one to end this?"

"And do what? Date some other girl for the hell of it?"

"Maybe, " he grins. "I hear I'm hot on the market now that I'm on the good side." She pulls him all the way down then, kisses him hard.

"Give it a try. Whoever she is, she won't last more than a day. And she'll defiantly never have you. Not really. I have you right where I want you, Riven. You're mine and you know it." She blazes a fire in him with her words.

"Oh yeah? And how would you know that?"

"You're here, aren't you?" She's all sass as she cocks an eyebrow at his question. "And, plus, it's kinda hard to lie to an empath."

And then she's kissing him again. This time with so much passion that he can't make sense of the world around him any longer. She pulls away only to tell him, "And I bet she'll never get that reaction out of you."

"No. No, she won't."

________________________________________________________________

The first time he calls her his girlfriend, it's not exactly in the situation she had imagined.

"Girls, I need to tell you something." Musa's voice wavers slightly as it rises above the noise that is their friends' laughs and chatter.

They're on the roof of Alfea, clustered among one another on the edges of old, shabby stones. The sky above them is dark and heavy. Stars wink at students from behind perfect clouds, ones that Musa remembers seeing in old cartoon movies that she used to watch with her parents when she was younger. From up here, the rest of Alfea seems like their whole world, its students miniature figures in a dollhouse. It's a perfect night, just as it should be. Rosalind is gone, out of the school and although that's not good enough, it's something. And Headmistress Dowling is alive and back in charge of the magical boarding school, where she belongs. From her perch up here, she can make out the headmistress' perfectly done hair as she leans back and laughs at something Silva is saying. She sees Professor Harvey heading towards their table, scolding students along the way to back away from the school's boarders. She's surprised that they haven't tried to stop all the drinking that going on. It seems that even the professors have had enough of the fighting, so much so that they're no longer focusing on the minute details of teenage life. Plus, she suspects that when they called for a party to celebrate the revival of Dowling and their taking back the school, they had fully expected the drinking. In fact, Musa had even seen Silva sneaking a few drinks to the teacher's table, but she'd never tell him that.

She can still hear Terra's squeal when Dowling had announced the party. And she can feel the toll of the  heels Stella had insisted she wear on her feet. It has brought everyone so much joy, this little piece of heaven that they're being allowed, and she's been so very glad to just bask in it. After months of walking around with her headphones constantly on, trying desperately and failing to block the thoughts of despair, gloom, and pain, she welcomed the change. It had taken a lot out of her, but she had even worked up the nerve to leave her headphones behind for the party. The girls had been surprised at first, but then Bloom had stepped forward, wound their arms together, and led her outside the suite. She's been getting weird looks from them all night, little side glances with small smiles and questioning eyes, asking her if she was okay or if she needed to head out for a bit, take a breather. She'd returned them all with reassuring smiles of her own, letting them know that she was fine. And she was fine, but probably not for the reason they thought. Yes, the students around her were happy and she didn’t have much negativity to deal with from them right now, and yes her powers were getting better. But the reason she was doing so well had to do nothing with the students around them or her ability to control her magic and everything to do with the specialist across from her.

Riven and her had been a bit of a dichotomy since the start of her second semester at Alfea. They were paired together for combat classes from the very beginning of Rosalind's reign at Alfea. He'd flirted, as he did with everything that had a pulse and walked his way, and she had shut it down. Odd how that had only encouraged his behavior. Odder how she'd eventually come to appreciate it.

It was a slow transition, their thing. She had been resistant to accept she liked someone so very opposite to her last boyfriend, hesitant to give herself to that natural disaster that seemed to be Riven. Honestly, it seemed like a loss for a long time. She'd lay in bed some nights, staring at her ceiling, listening to Terra's slow breaths as she slept, and just think about the fact that just a few months ago (God, it boggled her mind that it was only a few months ago… where did time go? And how did they get here, in a school run by a once presumed dead war leader and a woman that seemed to exude death from her presence alone?) she had been perfectly happy with Sam and the silence that he brought. Sure, they had eventually called it quits once she had realized she couldn't live in silence forever and he realized she needed to learn to shield herself from harm. It had been tough, but they were friends. And she had been okay being single again. Truly, she had. So how she'd come to crave noise- his noise, loud and obnoxious emotions that sent her body tingling and her mind reeling- she doesn't know. But it had happened and once she's finally just accepted it, the ball was in his court. Too bad for her though, because just as hesitant as she was, Riven was ten times more resistant to the pull that existed between the two of them. Musa remembers all the nights they'd sneak out and he'd teach her new moves with a staff and sometimes he'd let her use his swords, teasing her as she struggled under their weight. She'd head back to her suite before the sun came up, always frustrated because couldn't he see?! Couldn't he tell? Why else would she show up every single night without fail? Why else would she stick around when the training turned to teasing and taunting turned to conversations in hushed tones? Long story short, it took him being under mind control and her breaking it for him to just finally, finally kiss her. And from then on, it had been secret meetings in different corners of the school, in their rooms when no one else was around, and anywhere else they could find some privacy.

She's itching to cross the space that separates them currently and slip her arms under his jacket, an action that she'd first done on instinct but which had quickly become a habit once she had realized the effect it had on him. She's been eyeing him the whole night, fully aware of his gaze on her. There's a reason she hadn't argued with Stella when she'd been handed the lavender slip of a dress that she currently wore. She'd even managed to forgive the light fairy for the strappy silver heels she had practically forced into Musa's feet when she caught Riven staring up and down her bare legs. 

"Musa? What is it? Are you ok?" 

Bloom's worried tone pulls her back to reality and she forces herself to face away from Riven and toward the girls. She'd avoided this conversation for so long, but it had to come out at some point tonight and it had to happened before one of the girls found them in some shady corner with their clothes half off. 

"Oh, no I'm fine! It's not that." Now, how to approach what it actually was? 

Aisha's confused tone follows her reply, "Well, then, what is it?"

"Um, it's kind of a little complicated…" Musa's voice trails off and she has to physically stop herself from turning back to Riven to see if he's ok with this, with what she's about to say.

"Musa you're freaking me out a little here," Stella's eyes narrow at Musa's fidgeting her hands. Huh, she hadn't even noticed herself playing with the hem of her dress.

"Oh no! Did you actually kill that poor guy that tried to hit on you?" Terra sounds worried as Musa just groans at her words.

"Ughhh. Terra, we said we wouldn't talk about that."

"What guy?" Riven's question comes at the same moment as her whine, except his is louder and much more aggressive. All heads turn to him, and Musa curses the jealousy that she feels coursing through his veins right now. Damn it, couldn't he just keep it in long enough so she could explain to her suitemates what the hell was going on between them? His eyes are all rage and warning as he stares Terra down. And for some reason, she's all worked up at his gaze and doesn't know what to do with herself. She really shouldn't be so attracted to this side of him.

"What's it matter to you?" Aisha questions, eyebrow raising in his direction.

"It just does."

"Really, Riven? The middle school comeback? Classic."

"Stay out of it, Aisha. I wasn't talking to you."

They're bickering back and forth, and Musa can sense both their patience straining. This is not how she was hoping this would go. Finally, she steps between them, one hand on Aisha's shoulder and the other on Riven's chest. "Ok, that's enough."

Aisha glares his way one more time but steps back, Riven does not.  Instead, he turns to Musa and asks her, "What guy, Musa?"

"It doesn't matter, Riven."

"It does to me."

"Well, it shouldn't. It was just some drunk dude with a bad haircut. That's it." She's trying to reassure him, to let him know that this thing they have going on isn't just something she's going to drop the first chance she gets for any guy that makes eyes her way. She knows that's one of his big insecurities. He has it in his head that he's not good enough to deserve this, something that isn't completely fucked up from the very beginning.

They're trading glances, a secret conversation of their own  happening between them.

"No!"

All heads snap toward Bloom. The second she turns around, Musa knows that her redheaded roommate has figured it out. Bloom is grinning at the two of them, practically bouncing on her heels as she grabs onto Sky's arm and tugs on it. "Did you know about this?! Why didn't you tell me?!" 

Sky (bless his soul) looks at his girlfriend with confusion evident in his face, "Know what?"

Except it's Stella that answers, "They're dating."

And then mayhem ensues and Musa suddenly wishes she had thought this through because she's feeling so much from so many people right now and she's not quite sure how to handle it. She tries to hide the wince that forms on her face as she tries to answer all the questions her friends are practically screaming her way, but Riven must have noticed it because he reaches for her hand and pulls her out of the circle the girls have formed around her and closer to him.

"Alight, that's enough." It's the rasp in his voice that sends her spiraling every time he speaks, and she's putty in his hands. It's pathetic, she should have more self-control than this. "Yes, we're dating. Yes, she's my girlfriend. And, Aisha, no I did not pay her or threaten her into it. Gods above!" He takes a sweep of the room, gesturing to all their friends with a hand as if to say 'you're all very welcome.'

"Any other questions?" No one speaks up. Not that Musa would have heard any of them because good gods, did she hear him right? Did he just say what she thinks he said? Is she his… girlfriend? They'd avoided so many labels for so long that it had completely slipped her mind to actually name this thing between then by the time that they had finally become something substantial. And she's been fine with that deal, with not having to name their relationship, but hearing him call her his girlfriend has send her body trembling, fire coursing through her veins and butterflies bursting in her stomach.

And then he's pulling her away, down the stairs that led them up to the roof and between hallways that blend into one another as her mind focuses on the way his hand grips hers and the lust (his? hers?) that seems to be engulfing her whole being.

She lets him lead her into his room, onto his bed, and just as he leans down to kiss her, she moves down and places a kiss on his neck instead. Looking up at him, she tests out the word that's taken over her brain since it left his lips, "Girlfriend?"

"Fuck. Is that not what this is? I, I don't know- I kind of figured- I don't know. Shit, sorry-" If she wasn't so very in love with the idea of being his girlfriend, his something (just his), she would have let his ramble continue. She didn't get to see this often, a flustered Riven, and it was a sight she found quite adorable. But, alas, she had other plans for tonight.

She bends her neck upward, uses her toes to push herself up the bed, and kisses him ever so lightly on the lips. Just enough so that he stops talking. A feather's whisper of a kiss, against which she purrs "That is exactly what this is if that's what you want it to be." 

His eyes are black with want when he closes them and his hand comes up to trace the edges of her jaw. His breathing speeds up as he leans his forehead against hers, and that's how she knows he's trying to collect his thoughts, watching his words as he often does when he's scared he's about to make the wrong move, say the wrong thing. She swears she's going to get him to stop doing that around her, because she wants his thoughts, every single one of them, as raw as they are. She doesn't want the filtered version. And she can feel them, mingling into the background as his insecurity takes over. Her hands find their way to his jaw and now they're holding each other, "Tell me."

He opens his eyes, opens his mouth to tell her, just as she knew he would. He'd never deny her anything and she's learned that in the short time that they've been together. He'd collect the stars and fashion them into a necklace she could wear around her neck if she asked for the universe. He'd start and end a war if she so much as suggested it. He'd give her his soul, she thinks. All she needs to do is ask, and he breaks for her. Crack by crack. Splinter by splinter. Until he's cleaved wide open and she sees all of him.

"I do, want that. I want you." His voice is gruff, guttural. "What about you? What do you want?"

God, how does he still not get it?!

"You." A whisper, and then a kiss.

_______________________________________________________________

The first time he makes her cry, it's not because of something he said. It's because of something he did.

It had started like any other day- breakfast, classes, social gatherings at the end of the afternoon. Musa and Terra had just left botany lessons and were heading towards the specialists training grounds to meet up with Sky and Riven before they all went to grab dinner together. It had been all fun and games, Terra and her grumbling about how ravished they were and laughing along at each other's comments. But Musa had sensed the uneasiness that radiated from the training grounds the second they had rounded the corner of Alfea's large lawns. Silva was especially on edge, and the fact that he had all the upperclassmen and the best of the specialists lined up as he walked back and forth between them shouting orders could not be a good sign. And with an insane mastermind on the loose, Musa had feared the worst as anyone else would. She'd taken off running, and Terra had followed without any questions, trusting her instincts.

She only caught glimpses of Silva's orders. "… Five burned ones… Two upperclassmen faries out there already… We need to leave now- I'm going to need ten of you out ASAP. Five more will guard the school grounds… Any volunteers?" 

Her heart stopped when in her peripheral vision, she saw Sky and Riven's hands go up. This would be the third one this month that they had volunteered for, and the last time they left the school grounds Riven came back with a broken foot that he's still limping along on. The word left her mouth before she could think about it, "No!"

He turned to her, surprised to find her standing among the specialists. "Musa?"

She can't be bothered to greet him, not right now, not when he's practically signing up for his own death. So, instead, she stares him straight in the eye and says it again. "No." 

But Riven is as stubborn as she is, and she knows he's been itching to prove himself again, to make up for what he did under the control of Rosalind just a short while ago. His words crush her soul, "I volunteer for the outside team." He's talking to Silva, who's eyeing the two of them with an intrigued look on his face. He nods curtly at Riven's words. But Riven is looking at her, his jaw set and tilted upward with determination.

"Alright, Sky and Riven, you'll lead the charge. Get your weapons. We leave in five minute. Go!" And then he and Sky are running toward their weapons bags, Musa and Terra hot on their tracks.

She catches up to him just as he's strapping on his swords. Her hand comes to pull at his wrist, motioning for him to face her.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" He won't look at her, won't meet her eyes. "Riven, I'm talking to you! You can't just volunteer yourself up for everything that could kill you! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Whatever you're trying to prove, stop it!"

He's reaching for his fighting boots, switching into them. Whether he's just not listening or if he just doesn't care, she can't tell. She wants to kill him. She wants to kiss him. 

"Please," she can't believe she's begging. "Please, Riven. Your foot. You can't-"

"I'm doing it, Musa." She sees fury, internalizes it before her insides form it into something tangible and she can see it, feel it. It's red and blinding and raging.

"I'm asking you not to." He won't say no to her, he hasn't done it yet. She asks and he cracks for her right? Right?

Wrong. 

"LET'S GO, SQUADRON 1!" She barely registers what Silva's command means until Riven is standing up.

"I'm sorry, Musa." And she knows he means it, because when his hands fall to her shoulders, quick and rushed, they're firm. He leans down to kiss her goodbye or as a form of apologizing, she's not sure, but she turns her head away from him and he ends up kissing the space between her cheek and jawline. If he won't look at her, then she won't look at him. And if he won't listen to her, then she won't give him the satisfaction of her approval. It's petty, she know that. She senses his emotions deflate at her actions, the feeling of rejection cutting into his heart like a shard of glass ripping through flesh. But she's seen this movie before, she knows how this story ends. Too many specialists have left the school's walls wounded and eager to pick a fight, only to come back on the brink of death or even worse, they haven't come back at all. And the idea of him becoming one of those statistics hurts more for her than her rejection will ever hurt him.

She doesn't turn to watch him leave, but she hears his boots beating against the pavement as he rushes to catch up with Sky… and then silence. 

She's so numb by now. Numb to death, to feeling, to crying. She doesn't cry. Not when Terra comes to hug her from behind. Not when they're back in the suite and Bloom is practically sizzling with anger at the fact that they didn't think to bring her along on the mission and that Sky is being sent on yet another mission. Not when it's midnight and Dowling informs that the specialists made it back safely.

She doesn't go down to greet them when the other girls rush out the door. Terra lingers in the doorway.

"You sure you don’t want to come?"

"I'm good." She's staring outside the huge window of their living room, refusing to look down at the ground and try to make out if someone is missing in the mass of specialists standing in the courtyard.

"Musa-" She feels pity and worry coming from Terra, and she doesn't want to deal with it right now. She just wants to be numb for a little while longer.

"I said, I'm good."

Once Terra is gone, she turns away from the window and goes to sit by one of the couches. She counts the floorboards by the main doorway of the Winx suite. One, two, three, four, five, six…

She counts them three times over before the door finally barges open, it's hinges creaking from the immense force of the push just enacted upon it.

Riven's eyes frantically search the room before they finally fall on her. He walks towards her, limps actually. (She knew his foot wasn't healed, no matter how much he insisted it was.) He has blood splattered on his right side. His or someone else's, who knows? And when he finally reaches her, and falls to his knees in front of her so that they're eye level with one another, she finally cries.

He reaches for her. She pushed him off. "Fuck you, Riven. Really, fuck you."

"I'm sorry. Muse, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I-"

"Why don't you ever listen? You keep walking into wars as if they're welcoming parties. Do you want to die?! Do you have a death wish? What the fuck is wrong with you?!" She's being mean, unfair. She doesn't care. If asking won't work, maybe screaming will. And she's exhausted. Exhausted of worrying about him every time he leaves. Exhausted of wishing he would listen. Exhausted of fearing he's the one that didn't make it back, because it's almost been him so many times by now.

"I had to Musa." His voice is soft, odd in comparison to the loud tone he usually takes when they argue about this topic.

"You always have to! You don't have to prove anything Riven. And you most certainly don’t have to die for no fucking reason!"

"You don't get it-"

"So explain it to me!" He sighs deeply, and closes his eyes. "No, Riven. Explain it. What don't I get?"

He finally opens his eyes, throws a string of colorful swears at the ceiling before moving his gaze back to her. "It's not just proving something. It's that if I go and… if I go, then one less specialist has to go. And that's one less person with people that care about them having to go. And that's one less tragic death, and then a whole lot less people hurt. If I go… who cares, you know? And, honestly, shouldn't it be me? A taste of my own medicine and all that. After all the shit I helped Rosalind do." She senses his bitterness, feels his anger and destitute.

He's an idiot.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

"And you're beautiful," he quips back. She watches that smirk that she's come to love make its way onto his face.

"Flattery won't get you very far in life, Riv." Except, maybe it will. Because somehow and for some reason she's here, and she's crying over him.

It's like he can read her mind, not the other way around, "I think it's gotten me pretty far as of right now. I mean, you're here." The look he gives her has her twitching in her seat and she has to remind herself that she still has more to say to him. She can't just let him off the hook that easily. He leans up to kiss her, and she places her hands on his chest, gently pushing him away.

 "I care."

"What?" He's confused by her words.

"I care. If you go, and something happens. I care." She feels the surprise bloom from within him, and then a sense of overwhelming tenderness takes up his mind, and hers along with it. Her hands reach for him, " Come here."

This time, he obeys her. And as she kisses him, he cracks for her. Splinters for her. Lets her see him while he kisses her as if he's kissing her for the first time ever, ravaged and hungry for her. She sees it all- all of him falling into her and consequentially falling into place in her mind, in her heart. His insecurities, his fears, and his wishes. She doesn't shy away from him, but kisses him harder. His thoughts are exactly what she thought they were from the very beginning- a natural disaster. But she doesn't fear falling into them anymore, and in fact she thinks she likes them. She thinks she likes the way his mind works- ten emotions at one time battling to win out over one another. And when he pulls away, she likes the way his green eyes look at her like she's the whole world and the way his hands hold her tight enough for her to know that he doesn't think she's fragile but with enough care that she feels like she is all that he owns.

"Don't you ever," he's panting as he moves to place kisses along her jaw and at her collarbone, above her shoulders, anywhere the collar of her shirt will allow him. "Don't you ever pull away from me again."

She knows he's referring to the other afternoon, when he had left for the mission and she had closed off. "Why? Did I hurt your fragile ego?"

She's teasing, he's not. His hands are in her shirt and moving up, up, up until the offending piece of clothing is off of her. He's eager to kiss down her body, hands roaming the planes and curves that he must have memorized by now. He's kissing, kissing, kissing. Kissing away her tears, kissing right above her beating heart, kissing along her waistline. Frantic, needy, and- 

Oh.

Oh. She thinks she's in love.

________________________________________________________________

The first time they slow down, she feels as though she has seen heaven.

Riven's lips on her lips, steady and firm yet gentle, as his hands lay splayed over her bare sides and his thumbs dig softly into the dips of her hipbones. One of her legs is tangled in the sheets around them and her other is hiked up above his hips, her heel digging into his spine. He moves inside of her, and when she feels her hips meet his, she slides her hands over his shoulders and lets her nails graze his back. He watches her below him, eyes asking if she's ok, she smiles at him and says, "Just… stay. Don't move for a bit."

And he does, closing the small space between them to catch her bottom lip between his teeth and pull on it before he continues with his love bites down her neck, behind her ears, onto her chest. He's making his way as far down as he can in their current position, and she's melting into him and fuck, she wants him to keep going. But she also wants him to slow down because she's on cloud nine right now and from up here she can see the stars in his eyes, can catch them between the kisses of his lips. Her hands move from his back, leaving behind what she can only assume is a mass of fresh red marks. They move to his chin as she drags him back up to meet her on that very cloud and then they're eye-level with one another once more. She feels the want form within him, she always does, but it’s an odd thing to actually see it emulated in his eyes. And there's something else there too, something she can't quite place and doesn't dare to assume of. When his lips brush hers for the umpteenth time, slowly shaping her name between them, she feels herself sink farther into him, a feat she had previously deemed impossible.

And her lips part in a whimper because oh good god, how had they never done this before? They were always so rushed, pulling at each other's clothes and stumbling into bed,  falling into one another in a tangled mess of limbs and lust. Perhaps it was the fact that they had kept it in for so long, refusing to admit they liked each other and once they were together, not wanting to tell others for fear of shattering whatever fragile state they were in. Their relationship had started with fighting fueled by longing, innuendos charged with so many suggestions, and eventually an aching want that Musa still couldn’t wrap her mind around. Really, she shouldn't be surprised at how touch hungry the two of them had been at the beginning of the relationship. (How touch hungry they still were.) But right here in this moment, as she opens her eyes, she regrets not slowing down and taking him all in sooner.

He is a sight to behold, with tiny and larger scrapes all over his body that somehow added to his physique instead of taking away from it. They are tens of thousands of stars and she traces them over and over, forming constellations with his imperfections. The pads of her fingers run over the features of his face, committing every bit of him to memory, and as they skim the tiny scar above his left eyebrow, the question slips from her lips before she can stop herself.

"When did you get this one?" 

He pulls away from her, just slightly so that he can see her face, and his eyes are darker than she's ever seen them as he lazily responds with a "Hmm?"

She's high on want and adrenaline, but she vaguely wonders if this is something he might not want to talk about. Too late to back out now. Plus, she'd like to know. "This scar. Above your eyebrow. How did you get it?"

Riven stiffens at her answer. She can feel his insecurity downing upon him, clouded by the desire and the want that still course through his body but slowly easing its way to the forefront of the battle that is his mind.

"I have them too," Musa whispers as she braces herself against his chest and heaves her body upward, brushing her lips against that very scar in question.

She moves back down again, and pulls her left arm slowly away from under him. She turns her head slightly to her left shoulder, using her index finger to point to a sliver of skin that's more taught and whiter than the rest of her. "I got this one when I was twelve. Tried to climb a tree that was too high off the ground. Had to get six stiches. My mom freaked out."

His eyeline follows her movements, and he stares at her shoulder for a few minutes. His gaze has her squirming a little, suddenly aware that she's naked in front of a boy she's very much into and that she has just pointed out one of the many flaws on her body. But then his eyes flicker upwards and he leans down and kisses her scar, just as she had kissed his.

"You're fucking perfect, you know that right?" She could cry.

"If you're trying to get in my pants, hate to break it to you, but they're already off," she teases, her voice soft and a smile on her lips. How else was she meant to respond?

He chuckles at her words, his laugh causing her to catch her breath as it does each and every time she hears it. It's an occasion that has become more common since they got together but which is still far and few in between. The sound vibrates off his body onto hers and has her writhing under him.

"Love, I would never consider your lack of garments a disappointment." He circles his hips above her, and she groans at the pressure. "And I would most certainly never forget being the one to take them off you, especially when you insist on making those noises."

Her eyes are blown wide as she grabs onto his forearm at the side of her head, where his fingers are buried in her hair. Her chest heaves up and down, up and down, heart beating so fast she's certain its rhythms are all in her mind and that it's no longer there. She's fairly sure she lost it somewhere between meeting him and getting here, to this moment.

He stops his teasing, opting instead to arch down once more and kiss the scar on her shoulder. He kisses it over and over until she feels her heartbeat slow down and her breath return to a somewhat normal pacing.

She tugs on his locks, silently motioning for him to come back up. Up he comes, and she's glad that she's somehow convinced him to continue denying her nothing. 

"Tell me."

He knows she's referring to his scar.

They're nose to nose, foreheads touching, brown eyes boring into green ones.

"About a year and a half ago. Right when things started to get messy in my life. Messier than usual, I mean. Back then I was a bit of a nerd, hung out in the greenhouse all the time-"

"Yeah, I've heard a few stories from Terra," she cuts him off, a smile playing on her lips at the idea of Riven hunched over a lab bench with pretty vines all around him.  It's a sight she hopes to one day see with her own two eyes, a side of him she knows she's so very close to opening up.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you know how much of a dick I was after I started distancing myself from them. Sky, he got real mad one day. We were in Specialism class, learning some new sword tricks. I said some shitty things and then he tried to play the Saint Sky card. I got mad, I fought dirty. Scraped his arm with the sword. He finally snapped at me, landed a good blow right above my eyebrow." He laughed a bitter laugh at the memory. "Nearly missed my eye, the wanker. He apologized for two months straight. Either way, we both ended up in the infirmary and I figured I couldn't get rid of him. He kept me around and I stayed, almost like when we were children and we fought over dumb shit like who was the taller. Only difference now is that his scar healed and mine stayed."

That last sentence was loaded with so much, and Musa wanted to ask more but she didn't want to push her luck. She smiled at him, nudging his nose with hers. "So you used to fight over who was taller? The mental image of a baby Sky and baby Riven getting angry over something like that is almost, dare I say, adorable?"

He scoffs. "We were not adorable! We were two very manly twelve-year-olds with very some very manly, very reasonable arguments."

"Mmm," she hums against his skin. "Is that what you two have to this day? Manly arguments?"

"Are we really bringing Sky into the conversation while we're in bed?" She laughs, a full on laugh that comes from within her because his words were not what she had expected. "If you must know, now we argue over who’s got the hotter girlfriend."

His eyes are all mischief when she shakes her head at him. "Glad to see you two have really grown up."

"And I'm glad that I got the hotter girlfriend, because I'm not sure how else you've managed to keep me completely turned on while bringing up my best friend in the middle of us fucking."

And then it's her turn to tease him, turning her head slightly to the side so that she can catch his earlobe between her teeth and whisper in his ear. "I'll make it up to you."

And then she's flipping them over so that she's on top and she feels his breath catch. She smirks down at him mischievously and then they're off again, finishing what they started. She makes sure to go slow, to feel every bit of him as she moves, catch every angle of him below her and store it in her mind for safekeeping. 

And when it's over and he's lying on his stomach, back facing the ceiling, she moves herself on top of him once more. Only this time, she kisses every scar on his body, sometimes asking where and how he got them until he finally gets the hint and starts sharing their stories before she can even ask. There are so many of them, some tiny and some much more noticeable. All of them have stories. She vows to herself that she will one day know all of them. That she will be there to soothe the next scrape, the next trauma. With each one of her kisses, she can feel the natural disaster within him reach a rhythm, not quite silenced but at peace.

They don't sleep that night. Only once she's sure she's kissed every inch of his body does she finally worm her way back into his arms, but they're both wide awake at that point. His eyes watch her in the dark, hair loose and splayed around them like some sort of blanket. It had been in pigtails at one point in the night.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks.

"I…I just," words knot in his mouth. His eyebrows furrow at her in frustration as he tries to untangle and spell them out for her. "God, I love you."

Just for that, she kisses his body all over again. And again. And again.

________________________________________________________________

Their first times have been nothing short of unexpected. It's never how either of them imagined all these firsts would go. They're not soft and tender, though there are moments like that in-between, but neither had expected that. Their raging passions did not allow for it. But what they had expected was a lot more arguing, a lot more push and pull. Instead, they seemed to somehow fall right into each other- crash and burn style, no holding back.

Their firsts were painful lessons that needed to be learned. They were gnawing pains that needed to be had, throbbing emotions that had to be felt and delt with. They were stinging feelings, these firsts- stinging because they felt too much too soon and too fast and neither knew what to do with all of that expect for let it bubble until it exploded before them in an aching manner.

Their aching firsts.

[leahseclipse]

Daily surprises

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Summary: Everyday, Spencer finds a new book in his bag, as he begins to look forward to it when the event has been occurring for a while.

Requested by @writing-in-april​

A/N: I really liked writing this request!!! it really was cute asF!! Thanks for proposing that April, the fic u wrote for me last time was amazing (as ALWAYS), so I hope that you’ll like this one.

And uhh sorry about the books parts, I don’t know any of the books- I literally googled the summaries-

Word count: 3.8k

Books have always been a passion of mine; I have always been fascinated by how words can make the reader feel, how each reader can have a different opinion about them, different feelings, every reader is different when it comes to the fact of the opinion they have about the work.

They had always been a sort of shelter to me. I usually had the habit (and still have it) to comfort myself in them, they’d be able to express feelings like no one could, allow me to learn about various things, subject, build an opinion on a subject I had never thought of having an opinion, debate or even mention before.

I had been collecting more and more of them through the years, to the point of having an apartment that could be mistaken as a sort of tiny library. 

My books are literally everywhere, in my shelves, on my couch, on the low table, under and on chairs, even at my desk, and in my bag.

I always carry around one or two in my bag (of course, if they both don’t contain a lot of pages to the point of weighing a ton when combined together), in case I happen to have free time (which happened to become rare when I had begun working at the FBI), and have nothing else to do but read. 

It also happened to be a passion I've been sharing with another person, more known as y/n.

She had first mentioned that she didn't happen to read a lot, but eventually appreciated reading, which I was more than happy to hear, considering all the books I knew and how much it meant to me.

Clearly, she didn't expect me to know a whole library in my brain when she happened to ask if I could recommend a few; but she always liked to hear me rambling about them. 

She had eventually begun taking a liking to reading again; often asking me about books I've read, talking about her opinion on the book she had read, which would often be followed by an endless rambling from me, being much longer than what she had previously explained, or even expected when I had begun sharing my opinion as well.

It was nice to have someone else to talk about books with, without feeling I could possibly be disturbing them. 

Most of my colleagues would either stay there until I'd be done, they knew how much I appreciated talking about these to them; even if the majority of the team wasn't much interested, they were just being polite and respectful by staying.

Now that I talk about it, I probably should have apologized for all of the times I had rambled for a large amount of time when talking about the four books I've read in a day.

They're pretty much the main subjects I talk the most about, if, of course, I exclude Star Trek, Doctor Who, and the many subjects I throw facts about all day long from the long list that includes all of the things I'm interested in;

...which would take quite a while to detail its entirety, since I probably would take the time to explain each of them as detailed as possible, without letting any word behind, as my brain would constantly send me as much information as it contains...which again, means, a lot.

But, even if my passion about them is often difficult to keep for myself without having the need to ramble an essay worth long about them, I try not to begin to talk about it, or mention it, except if someone else does. 

That became rare…as I often end up talking more than intended each time.

Reading can sometimes lead me to fall asleep quite later than I planned before even taking the book itself. 

Having the ability to read fast has often led to many nights with little sleep, considering how many books I can read in a short amount of time.

The aftermath of it isn't pleasant, as it results in more fatigue on top of the one I already have because of how late I'd stay up when working at the bureau.

The feeling I had this morning when I had woken up happened to be one of the side effects of a long and endless reading session I had done the previous night.

Little did I find out after thinking about it for a bit that I'd probably be regretting it at the end of the day, if not earlier.

Even if my body was telling me to stay in my bed considering how tired I was, work couldn't allow me to do it, unfortunately.

It only took a quarter of an hour in order for me to get ready, as I already had been crossing the door to leave my apartment without having the time to think about doing it.

The rest of the morning wasn't as busy as it usually would be; only paperwork for the previous days, nothing too complicated. 

But because of the short night I had, the coffee trips have been quite numerous after a while. 

A short conversation had occurred later in the day between y/n and me when she had gone to peek over my desk, curious to why I had been going in and out of consciousness; and leaving a lot to take refills. 

I didn't mind her asking at all, on the contrary, I had been waiting for an opportunity to talk with her; but as I didn't want to disturb her, I just kept glancing discreetly at her from time to time, hoping something to talk about would awaken a future conversation.

After a while, I noticed that she had left the room, just as I had the thought of something situated in my bag.

I had soon taken it in search of what I've been looking for, as I suddenly happened to be quite surprised as I found a book that I didn't remember putting the night before, any other day, or even this morning before leaving my apartment for work at all.

‘The Collector, John Fowles’

It was a surprisingly good choice, and the person who had put it there either had good taste or personally knew my preferences; or even both. 

Who knows. 

Even I would be explaining it to myself, and not to anyone; I’d prefer not to engage myself in that; as it could last up to an hour considering the length, and all that is to explain in order to understand the moral, and the motives of whatever is in the character’s mind in the book; so...a lot. 

“Withdrawn, uneducated and unloved, Frederick collects butterflies and takes photographs. He is obsessed with a beautiful stranger, the art student Miranda. When he wins the pools, he buys a remote Sussex house and calmly abducts Miranda, believing she will grow to love him in time. Alone and desperate, Miranda must struggle to overcome her own prejudices and contempt if she is to understand her captor, and so gain her freedom.” 

The resume of the book had simply begun automatically playing itself before I could even lay my eyes on the back cover; as I had read this book more times than my two hands could ever count, and you know; because of the eidetic memory thing, even if I had read it only once, I would have remembered it anyway.

I remember reading it for the umpteenth time around last week, precisely on a saturday, at 11PM. As long as I can remember, I apparently had nothing else to do but read, and absolutely not any other book to pull out of the shelf, except that one.

Even if I had strictly- no idea -of who could have truly placed it there, except y/n-, I still had appreciated having this work as a possible distraction, or a way to pass the time if I eventually happened to have no idea of what I could do next, in case I didn’t have any work left to do. 

As I raised my eyes to the desk in front of me, I happened to meet with y/n’s eyes just when she had  happened to stare at me as well. 

“What’s that book genius?”

“Oh, that? It’s the collector, from John Fowles. I like this one, but- is that you who put it there?”

“Yeah...why?”

“I uh- no particular reason! I just uh...wonder why it’s there…?”

“Well, read it, and you’ll see.” She said, as she stood to go god knows where.

“Read it? But I’ve already read-” I hurried out, but she had already gone out of the room, shooting me a smile before disappearing in the corner of the door. I stood there for a good minute, as I decided to open the book and read a bit of it as she previously told me to before leaving without even giving me an answer. She always liked to be mysterious, that’s kinda the reason I fell in love with her for. 

It really took a while so I would get a number.

She had slid it in one of my file just when she had left the building to go home, I swore I didn’t even have any breath when I had attempted at catching her before she has gone to her car, and if I hadn’t decided to go, one minute later, she would have been on the road, and I doubt that calling people on the road would have been safe and clever for me to do it.

It might have been a bit “mean” to do that as some would say, but we always had the habit of doing that, way before we started dating. We’d always let the other try to guess what the other meant, what he wanted to say, it all was a game, a sequel to the story that would occur later, all of these discussions, secrets, have been a preparation, and kept for what happened right now. 

It all was thanks to her, because if she wouldn’t have given it, I doubt that I would have gathered the courage too soon. Probably in 10 years or so, if not.

As I still was in my lecture, a bright blue paper with an inscription written in black ink had brought my attention, which led me to read it. 

“I know you’re surprised, yes, it’s in a book, and yes I could have told it to you in person, but I find it better in a note, you can keep it and carry wherever you want. It's also better as a note, and, in a book, because you had always liked books, which became the passion that has made us grow closer. This book was the first one that started a conversation between us, I don’t remember the day, but you probably do. This note might be confusing, but I wanted to do that, because at least, you have a reason to finish the book, because you might have another surprise soon. -yours truly, y/n”

The note had even ended with a heart; she’d always write one at the end of her texts, even a small word sometimes, it probably was an habit of hers, I don’t really know, we never mentioned it once, as I didn’t mind at all, I really liked the attention. 

Well, I pretty much like everything she does, whether she’s talking to me, talking to someone else, or doing whatever thing. I always like to see her around; I tend to get more relaxed when she’s with me; she always talks with me, and tries to know about what I do, even if I often noticed she probably didn’t understand a single word of whatever I rambled about. 

Among all of the subject she was at ease with, books happened to be one of them, she’d always participate actively, as most of the subjects included in the books would often inspirate her, push her to talk more than she usually would with other subject, or even in general, I’d help her find her words, participate in the conversation by argumenting, agreeing with her opinion, sharing my opinion so that we could compare them and argument once more about the differences, I’d also initiate the conversation by switching to another book when we’d have nothing else to talk about the book, or if one of the details in the book would make me think of another one.

Our discussions would often last hours, we wouldn’t even realize the amount of hours we’ve spent talking until one of us would think to look at the time.

Even if I liked every single moment we’d spend together, if I had to choose one (a temporary, as I always change my mind on which moment I prefer as I again like every single one), It’d be our numerous discussions about books, I had and would never grow tired of it.

As much as I like to hear her talking, I often let myself get distracted by her, to the point of having to be “woken up” from my thoughts by her when I happened to not pay attention. 

Because in these moments, all that matters is that I get to hear her voice, her smile as she passionately talks about what she likes, she way she always talks while moving her hands around, when she looks at me while I talk, when she touches my hand with the tip of her fingers to take the book situated in my hands.

She made me get more and more excited about the moments when I’d reach for a book in my bag, or somewhere in the drawer of my desk.

Especially when she had begun picking my interest by telling me she might propose another book the next day...or so? 

I don’t think I’ve been more excited about reading a book again before now.

Who would have thought someone would have such an effect on me on a subject I admire before y/n arrived in my life? I’ve never been so passionate about something other than books before her. 

*

My waiting (that had seemed like an eternity) had only lasted till the next day, not long after my arrival at the bureau. 

I hadn’t expected it, but the book had happened to be situated close to my keyboard, which after thinking, was obvious, if I’d take account of the numerous trips we both had done throughout the morning due to various reasons concerning either paperwork or matters of previous cases.

I had taken a seat on the desk, quite empty for a while due to, again, the trips, as I had glanced at the surroundings, only to see a few members of the team, busy doing whatever task that was in front of them. 

‘Great Expectations, Charles Dickens’

Again; fairly surprising, but quite a good surprise to discover, as I hadn’t seen it for a while before today.

The edition of the book present on my desk was one of the original versions of it, The cover had a black color, along with the title and the author written in large letters under the title of the book, both just on top of an illustration representing a woman holding a bouquet of various types of flowers, behind it, the outfit she wore was visible; a white embroidery, with a grey-ish and black necklace on top of it, which was situated around her neck. The illustration was displayed in the shape of a large square, almost taking the rest of the bottom of the cover, as a space was present after the closure of the white border around the illustration. 

My eyes wandered around the cover, as I switched sides, ending up on the back of it.

“Considered by many to be Dickens’s finest novel, Great Expectations traces the growth of the book’s narrator, the orphan Philip Pirrip (Pip), from a boy of shallow dreams to a man with depth of character. From its famous dramatic opening on the bleak Kentish marshes, the story abounds, with some of Dickens’s most memorable characters; Among them are-” 

I wasn’t able to finish the rest of the summary, as a familiar scent had caught my attention, two arms embraced my shoulders. 

“You didn’t say hi today. I’m gonna begin to think you don’t love me anymore.” She had said, in an obvious playful tone that had taken some time for me to understand as it was, only a joke.

“Sorry, I’m married to someone, my work.” I had said, before the feel of her lips on my left cheek interrupted me; as, before she could go, I turned my face, stealing a kiss from her.

“Is that your apology?” She asked. 

“If you see it that way, yeah.”

“Then I accept your apologies;”

“I’m glad, I couldn’t bear to see you in such a state that would make you sad, all because of me.” I talked in a dramatic tone, which seemed as if I was doing a play, but she had laughed at it, so, turns out that my ‘play’ had been worth it after all. 

“Have you opened it yet?”

“No, I only read the summary. Why, is there something there again?”

“See by yourself.” She said, gesturing her hand in the direction of the book, as I opened it per request. 

When my eyes fell on the first page, I had expected to see the page on which the title and the author are written in black, but instead of it, a picture that had apparently been printed in a matte paper was taped on the page.

The picture had contained a picture of me, reading a book while I was sitting on the floor, against the wall, of what seemed to be my apartment, the book I was holding seemed to be the same ones I was holding in my hands.

“When did you take that? I never saw you taking your phone when we were together.”

“That’s because you never pay attention to your surroundings when you read. A fire could happen in the apartment and you wouldn’t even notice it until you’d smell the smoke.”

“No, you’re lying, I do pay attention…sometimes.” 

“See? You admitted it yourself. The tone of your voice when you reached the end of the sentence even said it for you.”

“Yeah but, did I...do something wrong or…?”

“No, nothing wrong. On the contrary, your focus was so strong that I was able to take the picture. So, that’s a good thing, do that more.”

“Now that you told me that, I’m gonna pay more attention, you might attempt to kill me behind my back.”

“Yeah, I might kill you if you keep saying that. I’ll kill you with a bad book, I’d be a shame to kill you with a good book, I might damage it.”

“You care more about a book instead of possibly committing a murder on the one and only love of your life?”

“My one and only love is tea, you know it.” She said, as I faked being offended. “Come on, I’m kidding. But, if you keep insinuating that, I’ll care more about the book. So, if you don’t want me to kill my one and only love, behave on your best.”  

“Okay, behave on my best.” I said, tracing the outline of the picture with my index. “Even if the thought of seeing myself in that picture is kinda weird, I’ll keep it. Thanks for it, I’ll read it, well, if...I get to finish the work on my desk.” I said, as we both glanced at the paperwork on the desk.

“Yeah...I, uh. Yeah. I don’t want to...sadden you even more, but you should check your mails, there...might be more.” She said, as she tapped my shoulder before leaving, the smile on my face dropping as I came to the realization. 

“I guess the reading session is getting postponed then.” 

*

The week had really been full of a lot of surprises (if I don’t count the case we had, of course), she had pulled out books I haven’t read for years; books that I had wanted to read, but never got the time for; or even books I’ve never read, but she had surprisingly matched my taste well, as I ended up liking them more than I thought I would before even starting the book. 

To my surprise, we had gotten to have rest for once after the busy week that cancelled all of our plans in a snap. 

I haven’t even realized that it already was October 31st today, the work had completely gone over everything else that made up my thoughts, to the point that I haven’t thought of the book y/n had chosen today.

She’d always put it either on the top of my desk where I could see it, or in my bag, but after a minute or so of searching, I didn’t see it.

The only book that I could see was in my bag, a copy of ‘The Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle’,  I had always left it there, it was one of my favorite books, I had never gotten anywhere without it.

‘Maybe she forgot about it today. It happens.’

We had a small party like we usually do (when a case doesn’t interrupt us, of course), and various small events had been organized.

As I had been looking around, my attention had been snatched away by a hand slightly tapping my right shoulder, as I turned around to see y/n.

“Missed me?” 

“Yeah, I did.” I said, as I brought her closer, and brought my lips to hers, as we exchanged a brief kiss. “Where have you been?”

“I was with Penelope, just for a bit, because if you didn’t see it, she wasn’t around either.”

“Wasn’t she? Oh, apparently not.” I said, as I saw her coming in, walking in the direction of Emily who had called her.

“What were you thinking about?”

“You, and books.”

“Oh, talking about books, did you notice something?”

“Something? Uh, no. I haven’t seen one, except the book I always carry.”

“And what is it?”

“The Narrative of John Smith, why?”

“Well, you just noticed something. The book you just saw is the one you were looking for.”

“But, I had it yesterday, and all of the days before. I-I don’t get it.”

"In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s October 31st today; the date the book was published by the edition you own, it even was the first book I laid my eyes on when we met.” She pointed out.

“...you just reduced my IQ to 60 in a minute.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yeah, I knew it was our anniversary, but never had I thought that this book was involved.”

“Now you did, and you better remember it, and never forget to carry it.”

“I would never.” I said, as I gently put my hand on her cheek, as she suddenly raised herself on the tip of her toes, kissing me before I even got the time to think of it. 

“Happy anniversary Spence.”

“Happy anniversary y/n.”

*

[thewhiteroseofvermilion]

Moving Forward

Hello everyone. It’s been a long time since I’ve last spoken to you all, and an even longer time since I’ve last updated this story. Over the months and years, my absence has saddened, frustrated, and even angered many of you. Despite my own valid feelings of how—to put it bluntly—I don’t owe any of you anything as this is something I do for free and in my own free time, I still recognize how it must feel for you all to see something you enjoy so much slowly lose momentum and eventually grind to a halt. Furthermore, my habit of making enthusiastic yet empty statements in between didn’t help either. 

As such, a proper and honest explanation is due, as anything less would be unkind. This will be lengthy, but please bear with me. 

For the past four years, it’s been increasingly difficult to find the time, energy, and motivation for me to properly sit down and write. Seemingly gone are the early days of this story’s life when I was able to publish a new chapter every month or so, or even every two weeks when I was at the top of my game in terms of activeness. Even though I had an immense workload due to being a double major in college, leading me to adopt the best work ethic I’ve ever had, I still led a sheltered lifestyle where I didn’t have to worry about the many looming, inevitable adult responsibilities that were ahead of me.

Those tranquil years of course came to an end when I graduated, and I soon felt immense pressure to shift my attention to finding work, living independently, and working on things that would further my career. While I received support as an aspiring writer from the majority of my family, those being my mother and sister, the both of them commented more frequently as time passed by that my “fanfiction” wasn’t something that I should be spending so much time on anymore. After all, it’s not like I could sell the work as my own, and the fact that despite fanfiction absolutely being a valid artform, it wasn’t something that the world of professional employers cared about. 

Nonetheless, when I did eventually find work as a film freelancer, I still tried to persevere and write on the side. My goal back then was to work in film in order to sustain my pursuit in writing. Film was something I went to school for, greatly enjoyed, and even saw a possible future career for myself in, but it was the writing aspect of it that I was truly after, that being primarily screenwriting. 

After two years of living at home, I felt the need to try and live independently as I outgrew my tiny room and my mom started dating a man that I didn’t particularly like. I knew it wasn’t financially smart of me to do so when my mom allowed me to live with her rent-free. But at the time I thought that it would help me to become more mature and productive, as I would have to force myself to work in order to put a roof over my head and food on the table—as opposed to living a sheltered life at home where everything was taken care of for me. Essentially, I was longing for the lifestyle I had in college, thinking that once I returned to it, I would be able to reacquire that once incredible work ethic I had. 

So, I became roommates with a friend from college and together we rented a townhouse together. Rent wasn’t terribly expensive, but it wasn’t cheap either. Regardless, I was able to make ends meet. My greatest challenge however, was to live up to my family’s spoken and unspoken expectations. On one hand, my mother was sweet and understanding, naturally giving me her full support. My father, on the other, always thought that it’d be better for me to pursue something safer and more lucrative, and to not risk being a starving artist. But the one I had to prove myself the most to was my older sister, who was wildly more successful than I was—financially and professionally. My pay compared to hers was like a drop in a bucket, and I felt both indirect and direct pressure from her to be more “professional” like her. Therefore, I threw myself into my work, which is when things slowly began to go downhill. 

As a film freelancer, my work hours usually averaged between 10-12 hours a day, and with my work taking me all over my home state of Maryland and even into neighboring Washington DC and Virginia, my commute time to and from work ranged anywhere from an additional 1-3 hours. It became incredibly common for me to wake up for work anywhere between 3-6 AM and not get home until 8-10 PM. 

Unbeknownst to me at the time, I slowly slipped into a routine where when I did have the “time” to write, I had zero energy or motivation as my work was so taxing. I reached the point where I had to drink two energy drinks with 300mg of caffeine to get myself to and from work. I saw less and less of my roommate and friends. I spent an alarming amount of money and gained weight from ordering take-out so often because I hadn’t the energy to cook for myself when I got home late from work. There would even be days when I fell into what felt like comas, sleeping up to two days straight at one point. My physical, mental, and emotional health was in serious decline. And yet I didn’t see it that way, as I had become obsessed with trying to prove to my family, my sister in particular, that I wasn’t a failure and that my pursuit of writing wasn’t a hopeless one.

During the first month of COVID-19′s outbreak last year, I finally had a much-needed vacation. This was undoubtedly the best time for me to have returned to writing—but I didn’t. At this point, so much time had passed since my last proper writing session that the few times I did try to write, I found myself completely unable to write anything. I was so out of practice and so out of touch with what I had written. This honestly frightened me, and I soon began to doubt if I could ever be able continue the story with the same quality that so many readers fell in love with. Regrettably, I fled from this revelation long enough for a full month to pass by, and I soon found myself busy with yet another distraction: unemployment. 

I was out of work for about 4.5 months, from the middle of March to the beginning of August. During this time, I had to rely on state unemployment, which earned me great scorn from my older sister. Our relationship had always been uneven since we were kids, but it was becoming increasingly toxic as of late since our college years. I felt so ashamed to tell her how much money I made in a year from my job as a film freelancer, and how I barely managed to move to a better position after four years of work. Riddled with guilt and disappointment in myself, when work became readily available again in August, I frantically threw myself back in harder than ever before. In the past where I had turned down the occasional job to give myself some time to relax or in order to make it to a social outing with friends, I now accepted every job thrown my way, only declining those that would make me double-book myself. I earned a lot of money during those months as a result, and I was so happy to finally distance myself from the stigma of being “unemployed.” However, I once again failed to see that I was yet again sliding back into the lifestyle that had been slowly poisoning me for the past two years. 

After essentially working non-stop from August to March, my body, mind, and soul soon returned right back to the brink of collapse. It wasn’t until then at my lowest point when I finally realized how I initially went from working to sustain myself in order to write, to not writing at all and only working to sustain myself to work even more. It was truly scary to see myself fall victim to a brutal cycle of unfulfilling work that could have trapped me for years to come if I hadn’t broken free first. That’s when I realized that my lifestyle was personally unsustainable, and that something had to change. 

Henceforth, I’ve made the difficult decisions to both transition out of film freelancing and to soon return home to live with my father. At the end of April, the homeowner of the townhouse my roommate and I had been living in for close to three years gave us our 30-days-notice to vacate, as they no longer wished to rent but to sell the property. As my roommate had been planning on finding a place of his own with his girlfriend for quite some time, we split amicably at the end of last month in May and I’ve since moved into a temporary apartment with a friend who has traveled back to Maryland for seasonal work. 

Regarding the change in my career, I’ve been looking into applying for writing positions for something that I’ve grown to enjoy over the past few years, which is to write reviews for media such as film, anime, and videogames. This of course is not what I truly want to do in life, but I think that because it actually involves writing, it would be both good practice in terms of practicing my writing and experience in terms of resume-building. Furthermore, a stable “9-5″ job as such would be good for me, I think, as it would introduce some desperately needed structure back into my life. Being a freelancer was definitely fun as I had the power to choose my own schedule, but it unfortunately fostered a lot of laziness and procrastination when I wasn’t completely burnt out. 

I’ve shared with you all this information, a great deal of it being very personal, in the hopes that it helps you better understand who I am as a person and what I’ve been going through these past four years. 

I understand that my word may be difficult to trust due to my history, but I sincerely wish to let you all know from the bottom of my heart that I do plan on continuing writing The White Rose of Vermilion until it’s completed. My fears and insecurities may have alienated me from that promise, but not once did I ever entertain the idea of fully dropping the story. And I promise you, I never will. It most likely will not further my career in any way, bring any revenue in, and will continue to consume a great deal of my precious free time—yet I still choose to pursue continuing it because I can’t see a future where I don’t finish it.

It is after all my most cherished project; the reason that I was able to truly find my calling as an aspiring writer, its success also ultimately being the proof to my mother that I had some skill as a budding writer, who then gave me her full blessings to pursue it as a career. But most important of all is that it’s the reason why I was able to experience first-hand one of the most important and beautiful discoveries in my entire life. That being the incredible phenomenon of how art is like a beacon—its bright light is powerful enough to reach out and inspire others to create art of their own. From Monty Oum to Nancy Phetchareune to myself, I was blessed enough to see readers create wonderful fanart to show me or tell me in a review that reading my story had inspired them to create something of their own.

I am officially leaving behind my prolonged hiatus and returning to working on The White Rose of Vermilion. While I am extremely hesitant to even estimate when the next chapter will be published, please know that I am genuinely trying to leave behind my habits of old and returning to a more consistent schedule. 

The White Rose of Vermilion will return in:

Arc II, Chapter Twenty-Seven: Stranger in the Night

[lastwagontrainhopper]

A guiding hand

Royai week day 2 - Serene (let’s collectively ignore how late I am posting this ok thaaaanks)

Summary:   “She expected Roy to follow up with a flirty comment or joke; that was usually how this type of conversation went. Instead, after a moment, he let out a sight. When he spoke again, his voice had a melancholic tone to it.

"That right there is the one sight that I really miss. ” ”

---

The Colonel and his Lieutenant share a late-night conversation. (Blind!Roy)

Words: 2489 

Tags: Blind Roy Mustang, Fluff and Angst, Late Night Conversations, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant

read on aot

“They had left their windows wide open, letting in a soft breeze to relieve them from the heavy summer heat. The curtains were rising and falling without a sound, fluttering in the air like ghosts. Even the streets around the house were quiet at that hour; the only thing that broke the stillness of the night was Riza's voice.

"As for Senator Harn's wife, she was wearing a very elegant apricot-colored dress. With her signature high hairdo, of course.”

Their blankets had long been kicked away to the bottom of the bed in a messy pile. Roy was lying on his back, facing to the ceiling, one hand playing idly with a lock of Riza's hair.

"Apricot?" His eyebrows furrowed slightly. "That's the yellow with a touch of pink, right?”

"That was pretty much it, yes." Riza was lying on her side, her head against her hand, elbow propped up on the pillow. The room was covered in shadows, but the flickering lights from the window on the street allowed her to see the outline of Roy's face.

"And you said Harn had a royal blue jacket...That must have made for an odd contrast.”

Riza smirked. "Yes, that's what several people seemed to think. It looked as if the General and his wife had not consulted with one another before coming to the gala.”

A sly smile spread across Roy’s face. "Ha! And you just know the rumors about their marriage are already flying high. It's sort of ironic, considering how Harn is constantly babbling to the Parliament about the “traditional family” and the “sanctity of marriage” and whatnot." His hand came to lightly circle Riza's wrist, his thumb tapping the back of her hand. "I’m sure you now understand how crucial fashion is in Central. It's not just a matter of taste: it's inherently political.”

"Sure," she answered, unconvinced. "Anyway. The Harns didn't capture the guests' attention that long, since the buffet was brought shortly after.”

Roy hummed appreciated. "And that was a good one. I've rarely tasted crab this delicious.”

"Yes, and they must have put as much effort into the presentation as in the cooking, because the set-up was magnificent. Everything was served on glittering silver plates, which reflected the glow of the chandeliers. On each table, the dishes were arranged in a sort of pyramid, culminating with the piece of meat or seafood. It looked extremely fragile, like...like some sort of house of cards, or crystal architecture, defying gravity - but they all stood the evening without crashing down. It was breathtaking.”

This had become the most constant part of their day. Almost every night, as they lay in bed before going to sleep, Riza would describe to Roy a long list of the things he hadn’t been able to see during the day. When they had first started this habit, as they were working on the the reconstruction of Ishval, Riza's descriptions had been much more pragmatic, like a mission report: which building seemed in need of repair? Which tribal leader looked unsatisfied during their morning meeting? She did her best to give him this information as the day went by, but there were always important details that she missed.

As the years had passed and the two had distanced themselves from the military, Riza's description had slowly become more lyrical. She began to tell him about beautiful sights that he was missing – a particularly colorful sunset, or the way the city lights looked at night. As time went by, she started to enjoy these conversations and more more, and they became increasingly long. It got to the point where, as Riza saw something pretty during the day, she found herself immediately thinking of the way she would describe it to Roy later at night.

"You should try to write a book," he had told her once. "You're so good at this - I can picture in my mind everything that you're telling me about like I was seeing it."

"It wouldn't be the same," she had answered, shaking her head. "I like hearing your reactions."

He had arched his eyebrows, smirking. "And yet you scold me every time I interrupt you.”

"Stop being overdramatic,” she had retorted. “Now let me continue." They had left it at that.

Sometimes Riza would rest her head on his chest as she went on with her stories. This was what Roy preferred.  Ever since losing his eyesight, he had grown much fonder of physical contact, even casual, with her - after all, it was the surest way he could know that she was by his side. But Riza liked to remain slightly further, just next to him, so that she would be able to observe him during their late-night conversation. His face would take on such a special expression at those times, almost peaceful, or...serene.

Serene. That would have been the last word anyone would have chosen to describe Roy under normal circumstances. Despite his reputation as a slacker, he was a man that was constantly busy thinking about one thing or another, pondering, planning his next ploy – or his next date with a certain Lieutenant. His eyes in particular had always betrayed the constant working of his mind: they were restless, always darting around the room to study the people they were talking to, noticing details in their postures, noting suspicious movements out of the corner of his eye.

And, Riza knew it well, even the moments of rest didn’t bring Roy much serenity. More often than not, his sleep was plagued by violent nightmares that would wake him screaming in the middle of the night - or at least, that tensed and distorted his expression as he slept.

This had not changed since the Promised Day. But since Roy’s fight in the underground of Central, his blind eyes had lost their piercing look and had taken on a milky appearance. In the first few weeks, Riza had hated meeting that blank stare - it reminded her too much of what his eyes used to look like, as well as symbolizing her failure as a bodyguard.

But eventually, she had come to see a certain beauty in them, and in the calmness they brought to Roy's expression. He was still as expressive as ever, with his trademark crooked smile and taunting eyebrows. But in the evening, when they were alone together, his face truly relaxed. As Riza described the day's events to him, he would focus entirely on her voice, letting his mind recreate the image she was painting. His eyebrows would loosen and his forehead became smooth, free of its usual furrow; his mouth would fall half-open. At this particular moment, Roy took on a serene expression that Riza had never seen on him before, and she never got tired of looking at it.

"I need to tell you, unfortunately," Riza broke the silence that had settled, "that you were not the best-dressed man at the reception.”

Roy propped himself up on his elbows, frowning with surprise. So much for serenity.

"What? Who was?”

“You’re not going to be happy about this,” Riza said, trying to hide the small smile in her voice. "But Colonel Birks made quite an impression. He wore a rather daring suit, made of a black  fabric from which red velvet patterns stood out.”

Roy huffed with indignation. "Velvet! Nonsense. He obviously can’t stop pushing the boundaries of extravagance – and of bad taste.”

"I don't know," Riza said evasively. “I thought it was pretty elegant…and I wasn't the only one.”

Roy ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. "Outdressing the president should be considered insubordination," he muttered under his breath. "I'll call Ms. Zhao tomorrow. I need something more avant-garde for the next gala. Maybe with some silk mixed in with a cotton suit?”

He lay down again on the bed and raised his arm, inviting her to come closer. Riza moved to nestle up against him, putting her head on his shoulder, a hand on his chest. Roy wrapped an arm around her waist and buried his nose in her hair. Whenever he did that, his breaths would tickle Riza's neck, making her giggle; she would always pretend to be annoyed but it, but they both knew better.

After a moment, Roy tucked some of her hair away from her face. He brought his lips close to her ear. "Tell me again what you were wearing."

Riza felt a shiver go down her spine. That deep voice that Roy used when he whispered always got a reaction out of her, no matter what cliché or silly thing he would say.

A wry smile crossed her lips. "At this point, you know my wardrobe better than I do, Roy. ”

"I know," he answered, unabashed. "But I like hearing you describe it."

Riza chuckled. “Well,” she began, “I was wearing the flowy emerald green skirt that Rebecca got me for Christmas, a brown leather belt, and my white blouse. The one with the embroidery on the collar. ”

He hummed in appreciation. "With your golden high heels, I'm guessing."

"With my golden high heels," she nodded, "because even though my feet are killing by the end of the night when I wear them, they do really go well with that skirt." Her hand started to play with the ring that Roy wore as a necklace. "I didn't put much makeup on because of how humid the weather was. But I did wear my bright red lipstick."

She felt his cheeky smile even before he spoke. "I can recognize it by taste, now."

If they weren’t pressed so close together, she would have dug her elbow into his ribs. She rolled her eyes instead. "I also had my gold bracelet to go with the shoes, and the earrings you bought me to complete it all. What else...my hair was in a bun, and, of course, I had my necklace."

She expected Roy to follow up with a flirty comment or a joke; that was usually how this type of conversation went. Instead, after a moment, he let out a sight. When he spoke, his voice had a melancholic tone to it.

"That right there is the one sight that I really miss. ”

Riza felt her smile drop. A lump appeared in her throat. Roy rarely complained about his blindness; even in the months following the Promised Day, he had adapted to his new lifestyle with impressive resilience. At first, it seemed as if his disability had affected his Lieutenant, plagued by guilt, more than himself. Still, Riza knew that he must have carried a lot of silent regrets through the years. There was so much Roy had had to give up, so many compromises he had had to reluctantly accept on his plan to reform Amestris – and on his personal life.

Riza disentangled herself gently from his grasp and straighten up, half sitting, to observe him. One of his arms was folded under his head, and he still seemed to be looking at the ceiling - but of course, that was just an impression. She ran a hand through his hair, brushing them away from his face. He smiled slightly at her touch, but she didn't need to see the pupils of his eyes to know that his heart wasn't in it.

She didn't like seeing him like this. With thoses cloudy eyes, melancholy turned his serene expression into a confused one - like he was a child that got lost and couldn't look for his way home.

Riza laid down again and rested her head on the pillow, her face turned toward Roy. She started to gently stroke his arm. "At least, you can keep in your mind the image of what I – and you – looked like in the prime of our youth," she said after a moment in a playful tone, trying to comfort him. "You won't need to see us get all old and wrinkled.”

To her surprise, Roy's face saddened further.

"Don't say that. Beautiful women are like fine wine, they only get better with age - that's what Chris used to say. I always wanted to see how you would look as you grew old.”

Riza raised her eyebrow, surprised. "Really?" she answered in spite of herself.

He nodded. "Not everyone ages gracefully, of course. But I know that wrinkles would look flattering on you; you have such elegant features. And silvery hair never fails to give this distinguished look - at least on women," he added, running a hand through his hair, suddenly self-conscious. His eyebrows furrowed. "Do I already have grey hair?"

Riza felt her shoulders relax. "You're almost completely bald by now, Roy."

He winced. "Please don't joke with that. I don't know what I would do if this were to happen.

Riza simply smiled, and they fell back into a comfortable silence. She watched Roy’s chest rise and fall with his breathing, lulled by the calm rhythm.

"You know, I always wished I could see you grow old, also because it would have meant that we made it."

Riza felt her breath catch in her throat.

She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek, hoping her touch could tell him what her words couldn’t.

“We did make it, Roy.” Now of all time, she wished he could see her face.

"I know," he said. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a light kiss against her knuckles. "I know."

Riza propped herself up on her elbow. She close her fingers around his, and squeezed firmly.

"Listen. We'll just do like with everything else. When my hair turns grey, I'll describe it to you. And as for the wrinkles," she placed his hand on her face, "you can see that for yourself."

Roy made a small smile. For the first time, he turned to face her, placing the tip of his fingers on both sides of her face. That was something he never tired of doing. Before he had lost his sight, he had always been able to read her like a book, understanding the meaning behind even the most subtle of her facial expressions. Now, he could do it in a much more literal sense, by tracing the surface of her body, reading the lines on her skin as if they were words written in braille.

"And when my face is so wrinkled it's unrecognizable,” she continued, "you will know the story behind each one of them.” She injected a smile into her voice. “The ones I already have on my forehead, for example, come from the stress of having spent so many years asking you to do your paperwork.”

His fingers brushed her forehead, and he smiled, abashed. "And you're all the more beautiful for it, my dear." He reached toward her and, guided by his hands, placed a light kiss on her head. “I can’t wait to see the rest.” ”

[serenityseventeen]

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Seventh Letter

----------------

To: Jeon Wonwoo

From: Y/N

Hey, Wonwoo.

Now that I think back on us, we were a romance novel with a bittersweet ending. Every moment I spent with you felt like I was drinking a comforting cup of hot chocolate even if it didn't have any additional toppings. Warm. Sweet. Lovely. Temporary. I guess I finished the cup of hot chocolate now, huh?

Maybe one day I'd get a refill.

But for now, I'm satisfied.

I don't know how to exactly explain this. I'm just grateful. I'm also happy. I'm not happy with the breakup of course, because it's sad and I'm heartbroken too. I'm happy with the memories we made. I'm happy that a warm and sweet guy like you loved me. I'm happy that I got to love an understanding and intelligent guy like you.

I think deciding to become an avid reader may have been one of the best choices in my life, even if our love lasted only about a year. My unfortunate love life has taken a toll on this love as well. I know you'll say it wasn't any of our faults that we broke up. Knowing you, you'd probably say something along the lines of, “We couldn't hide our hearts that's why we dated. We can't change time that's why we have to separate. We didn't have a choice.”

You're always positive like this. I know that sometimes you're hurting and I was hoping that maybe one day you'd tell me about everything; everything that hurt, bothered, or annoyed you. You did tell me a few things that cut deep but I knew, each time that you opened up to me, that there was an even deeper cut in your heart that you didn't dare to tell yet.

Wonwoo, you were always a happy kid in my eyes. I think you wanted to show me only your good side even though you acted as if you could tell me everything. You were able to speak up for me when I couldn't and you even put my friends in their place. Thank you for that.

At that time, we weren't even dating, so I was always asking myself, “Why is he defending me?”

You were just this bookworm I met in the town's book club that I signed up for. You were just this guy who always happened to be reading in the local library. So, why were you defending me?

Well, we both know that answer now. It was because you liked me.

You began seeing me almost every day, at the local library, because I wanted to build a good habit of reading books. You looked like a cold nerd, always reading in that same, dark corner, barely lit by the lamp nearby. Sometimes I would just, while picking out a book to read, wonder what book it was that had you so invested.

Did you notice me staring? Or is it because I always took a long time looking for books? You never told me which of the ones were the reason you approached me. Well, I also never asked but by the time the question crossed my mind again, we had already fallen in love and broken up.

When you approached me with a book in your hand, I can still hear the words you said with your deep, calming, and dreamy voice. “Read this one if you're having a hard time. I already finished it.”

If you're reading this letter, you're probably cringing, right? Such a cheesy line for a first actual meeting. Well, I will admit now that it left quite an impression on me and lingered in my mind for a while. I never told you that though because I thought it was embarrassing.

You were really sweet even before we started dating. I was always wondering why you would leave me yogurt when I wasn't looking or become protective of me when I was alone. You always acted as if it wasn't a big deal but I know you were taking hours to head home because you insisted on seeing me off every time.

Wonwoo, when we began dating naturally, I wasn't convinced I was in love with you yet. I'm sorry if it sounds like I deceived you but the reason this letter is being written is because I loved you. Back then, even if you don't know my heart, I want to tell you that I'm sorry for dating you when I wasn't sure of my feelings. Whenever I dated or liked someone, it didn't end up that happily.

That day when I told you outside the library at night about how loving me felt like a curse, when you kissed me that night and reassured me that I wasn't cursed, that's when I truly fell for you. You were willing to accept me even when I talked so much that night about my past and failed relationships. Your lips... breath... It was all so warm that I didn't want to let go of you.

You didn't mind it when I talked about my ex-boyfriends and you understood me well. Even the next days that followed my breakdown, you treated me the same. You treated me like I was yours. When you wanted me to be close, you'd pull me close with my chair and ask if it was okay. When you wanted to hold hands, you wouldn't hesitate to do it in the most natural way possible.

You were also very romantic, I don't know if you think of yourself that way though, Wonwoo. I hope the things you did to me and my reaction also made your heart flutter; because every little thing you did to me made my heart race. It's memorable. I wanted to do the same things but I lacked the confidence. At least I gave you some good laughs though?

I remember, one time, I accidentally forgot my book at home during the book club and there were no extras. No one knew we were dating then and you suddenly took the seat beside me and slyly slid your arm around my waist and hand in mine before you started reading the chapter. You don't know just how much my heartbeat spiked because of that. I'll also be honest here, I didn't remember anything you read out loud and ended up reading the chapter again at home.

I think we got close because of our many conversations. Soon, I grew attached to you in many ways. You were the reliever of my stress, the lover of my nights, and an inspirational reader of my days. I had you to talk to when things were hard. I had you to talk to when I wanted to flirt and have fun. I had you to talk with about books.

What a boyfriend you were, handling so many jobs just for me. Now that we've broken up, I've realized that I was selfish. I used you for myself and though sometimes I did try to try and get rid of your hardships by listening, I found that you were independent. You thought you'd be able to handle it all so you always told me, “Just seeing you is enough.”

I honestly hope you don't think that way. I want you to be like me. Be a little selfish sometimes and allow yourself to use another person to rant. I want you to be able to let out all that stress you're having, whether it's from school, home, or your part-time job. I want you to be confident and continue being positive without having to hide your scars, but please, don't make the mistake of trusting the wrong person.

Remember the day when I called you crying, whining about how I failed an important test? It was probably almost midnight at that time and you were probably sleeping. I don't exactly remember the details but I remember this much.

You woke up, got out of bed, and ran to me. When you saw me crying on the bench beside a lamppost in the park, you immediately hugged me, not saying a word. Do you know how thankful I am for that?

It wasn't even that big of a deal. I was being a baby over something so trivial but you still ran to me. Your warm embrace filled with love... I could never forget that.

I still always think about that day when you came over to my house with the excuse that you wanted to read together. You ‘fell asleep’ on my couch.

I don't know how you knew I was staring at your handsome features but somehow, you knew. I still don't know how. I was just staring at you while thinking, ‘This guy cares for me... he's really nice... Why does he like me?’

It was like you could hear my thoughts. You turned your head to me and opened your eyes gently then pulled my head closer and kissed me. My heart fluttered so much and even thinking of it now gives me butterflies.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to do it without your consent.”

Seriously, which novel did you learn that line from?

I also know that sometimes when you ask me to hug you, it's because you're having a hard time, not because you missed me. Do you think I wouldn't know that? I can just remember how desperate your grasp was and how weak your breath was. I wished that you would tell me about your problems one day.

Even though you didn't end up telling me about your deepest fears and scars, I'm glad that you wanted hugs from me. That means I was at least some sort of comfort, right? I was also comforted when I hugged you, even though you were the one who asked for hugs.

I can't do anything but compliment you in this letter because our relationship did not have any flaws. Truly, we only have happy memories to reminisce. Like that day when you kissed me in the library, between bookshelves, or that day when you made a poem about me and read it out loud, or when you came over to my house and helped me water the plants but ended up getting both of us wet. When I was with you, I only had smiles and it felt like I could forget everything and just live as if there were only the two of us.

Because of you, I could forget about college for a while, I could stop stressing about schoolwork, I could be happy and live in the moment. I hope it was that way for you too. Your cold face when you're not smiling and your sharp eyes are enough to slice someone in half. You need to smile warmly with that beautiful smile of yours. You have a beautiful smile.

Wonwoo, I know you're a strong guy. Even without me, your ‘healer’, I know you'll be fine. Please don't make me the only one who remembers this love story. If I wanted to, I could write a romance novel about us. You, the male protagonist, and me, your love interest. We had so many lovely moments that I just want to keep it all in a book.

Well, it's a shame that we have to end our relationship like this. Maybe the timing is just never right for me. College is in a few months and long-distance relationships would never work for us, that's why I asked for us to break up. I know you and you usually rather act than talk. I'm sad about it but there's nothing I can do. I need to go to college.

I just have a few more things to say to you in this long letter.

Wonwoo, sometimes you would be straightforward but sometimes your words and actions would be implicit. Sometimes, even though you were my boyfriend, I would find myself failing to understand you. Everyone is complex but you may be the most mysterious man I fell in love with.

What was I to you?

Was I like a warm cup of hot cocoa?

Or a blanket to give you warmth throughout the nights?

To me, you were warmth, reassurance, love, and like the seasons.

You taught me life lessons while being my partner.

Even if sometimes you seem like a stranger, I don't regret it. I think you must've had a hard time but I'm sorry I couldn't do much to help you. Now that we're over, I'm just happy about what we had.

The fact that we loved each other is enough.

Yours truly,

Y/N

-----------------

© serenityseventeen

6/24/21 - 11:42 am

a/n: My baby brother and parents came back so I spent a lot of time with family and didn't get to finish this. + SVT appearing on so many western shows/channels makes me so happy... I'm just happier these days :)

[prettywordsyouleft]

To Be Continued - Part 7

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

Word count: 2198

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

It was as if you were writing a new novel. Instead of focusing on how Charli Evers would finally get with her battered beau, you were at the peak of experiencing all the emotions and excitement that came from a new romance. You were enjoying playing the main protagonist for the first time in your life as well.

“What are you doing?” Brian asked with a hint of amusement in his tone. You leaned in even closer, already entangled together on the couch after watching a movie, and lifted your index finger.

“Counting.”

“Counting what?”

“How many lashes I gave you,” you murmured, your gaze honing in on one eye. You let out a whistle when you finished. “I gave you so many! Why are you this perfect?”

“I don’t see myself as perfect at all. You sure made a point of that in my creation, too.”

“How? You’re handsome, protective, honest, playful, charming, sensitive, and did I mention handsome?”

Brian’s lips curled up some from your description. “I think you might have said it twice.”

“Because you truly are that good looking!” you surmised, and Brian chuckled.

“Is being handsome all that matters to you?”

“Well, no.” You blinked a couple of times whilst trying to come up with an answer that didn’t make you feel shallow. The truth was, you really did enjoy looking at him a whole lot.

Over the past two weeks, that was what you had done an awful lot of. No matter what mundane task Brian did, he looked exceptional doing it. His laugh was music to your ears, and his voice made your heart flutter constantly. Any time he smiled, you worried your knees would give way, and on the rare chance they actually did, the way he caught you so easily with his strong embrace had you swooning further.

You wondered if this was all a dream. Instead of Brian coming out of your laptop, and your novel, perhaps you had died from your illness. That would explain why everything lately had felt so heavenly at his side.

Either way, you didn’t want to wake up or move on to the next realm. This was where you wanted to remain forever.

Especially when he kissed you. Leaning in to break you out of your reverie, Brian’s luscious lips pecked yours twice, a chuckle vibrating out of him when you realised you had zoned out again. “You’re too adorable.”

“Hardly.”

“If you keep calling me handsome, I’m allowed to call you how I see you.”

You sighed heavily and attempted to pull away from the man. “I don’t want to be just adorable if you’re handsome, Brian.”

“What do you mean?”

“Charli Evers is beautiful! She’s stunning and successful and has a body that would make any male swoon over her. She’s a goddess, and I’m just adorable.”

“You’re really adorable when you’re jealous,” he mused and shook his head, reaching out to pull you back in close to him again. “Charli isn’t real like you are.”

“What if she comes to her senses and finds out that you’ve left that world. She could come here, and it would be no competition between us!”

“You’re right. It wouldn’t be. Because I’d choose you over her every time.”

You scoffed loudly and pulled yourself away again, going over to the kitchen to get a drink of water to cool down. It was hard enough having insecurities as a person, and when you had lived alone, you barely thought of them, too busy up in worlds like Captivated to truly care. Your flaws, at points, made good fodder for some character traits, but you never wrote yourself fully into a world. You had come close in Destined, but even the main protagonist there was far more charming than you were to hook Park Jinyoung as she had.

Brian’s arms slipped around your waist, and he dropped his chin onto your shoulder. “It’s all about perception. You see Charli as superior to you. But she’s the type of woman you see in a magazine. Flawless, beautiful, and whilst you no doubt have made her relatable to your fans of the series as a person, as she does have a good soul, you are real. You aren’t sculpted to perfection. You aren’t going to star on the front cover of any Vogue or Marie Claire. Instead, you are starring as my leading lady.”

“I’m not sure if I’m flattered or not,” you mumbled, turning around to face Brian. “Maybe I want to be on the front cover.”

“It’s not in your personality to stand out like that. You much prefer this lifestyle. Domestic and homely and comfortable.”

“So she’s sexy, and I’m homely,” you deducted, whilst Brian groaned loudly.

“Can’t we go back to the part where we were thinking of just us? I don’t like you comparing yourself to someone else.”

“I’m sorry,” you admitted, lowering your gaze from his. Brian had a habit of making sure you were always looking at him, and he easily fished out your gaze again, smiling gently when he caught your eye. You sighed. “I guess whilst I made you to be the dream guy for me, and those who read my series, I never quite realised the impact you would have on my world if I actually had you.”

“If I have to make a point of telling you how much I appreciate and adore you daily, then so be it.”

“You shouldn’t have to though,” you pointed out, going around him and heading into your office. Brian followed you and leaned against the threshold as you sat down in your chair.

He nodded his head. “No, I suppose I shouldn’t. But isn’t that what makes a relationship work? I support you, and you support me. When one of us feels lower than the other, then it’s important to make sure they feel cherished and loved.”

“Loved?” you repeated, your eyes widening at his choice of words. Brian cleared his throat noisily, looking around your room as opposed to keeping eye contact. You smirked. He was cute when he was embarrassed.

“Isn’t it time to write, Miss Writer?”

“Perhaps I just got some inspiration for my starting point of Eternity. I mean, in the story, Charli Evers is cherished and loved by Brian Kang, isn’t she?”

“Have your fun at my expense.”

“It’s all those good lines I breathed into you. No wonder you make the world swoon, Brian. You’re full of the perfect lines to make any girl weak at the knee,” you told him as you opened your document for the final piece in this story. Admittedly, it was blank and had remained that way for some time. You knew it was because you were too busy with Brian in person that you couldn’t possibly think about writing about him as well.

However, you had received notice from Lily earlier in the day about your next deadline, and so you had promised after one movie tonight, you would end your evening with starting the next novel.

Glancing over at Brian who was still in the doorway, you smiled, and he nodded. “As long as you know it’s your knees I want to make weak every time. Have a good session, my love.”

However, two days later, you were still staring at a blank page. It wasn’t without trying, of course. You wrote, only to erase the sentence immediately. You told yourself to just let the words flow out and not edit them until you were done. Except nothing but a trickle of nonsense made it onto the document each time and after every gruelling session, you found yourself exhausted, mentally, and from simply staring at a blank page.

In all your years of creative writing, you had never been as stumped as you were now. It made no sense! You were living and breathing your own romance in life. Surely, the amount of affection Brian poured over you would easily inspire you enough to write it out. And generally, when you stepped into your office to write, it came from feeling inspired and uplifted to write about a world where love conquered all.

As soon as you were in front of your laptop, however, words failed you.

You had tried everything, from changing your writing schedule to practising with unrelated scenes. That had you hopeful. Every time you wrote a drabble about something outside of this series, you were capable of penning an entire world. In fact, you had now written a series of short stories about random characters and scenarios with relative ease. The success you felt from doing these was short-lived as soon as you opened Eternity, however. Nothing formed, nothing came to mind.

Nothing.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t want to share Brian with Charli,” you wondered out loud, immediately shaking your head. Whilst the Brian you were falling for fast, was that of the same Brian Charli would risk her all for, inside your literary world, you felt no need to keep him to yourself. You wanted Charli and Brian’s story to wrap up with a neat bow after their final tribulations of proving their love would outshine the obstacles in their way. You were determined to gift your readers what you had planned all along for the star-crossed lovers. And you needed to send Charli off on her merry way with a confirmed end.

Whilst your story with Brian continued.

“Just write something, Y/N!” you instructed yourself to do, poising your fingers above the keys.

It was a struggle, but they began to move, and you hoped this time would be the official start of your novel.

“So, what do you think?” you asked cautiously, staring at Lily as she read over what you had sent her.

Your editor didn’t say a thing, and sometimes that was a good notion. You had rendered her speechless yet again.

However, you knew better than that. She wasn’t speechless, she was in disbelief. Lily finally looked at the web camera on the video call and blinked several times. Pulling off her glasses, she wiped at them before placing them back over her eyes. And then she screamed incoherently.

“Lily, I can explain.”

“You better, and fast,” your editor stated back, trying to recompose herself. “This isn’t your writing.”

“Well, it is,” you told her, attempting to smile. Her laser glare wiped it off your lips, and you groaned. “So I think I’m having a writer’s block.”

“But you don’t suffer from writer’s blocks, you overcome them before they get to that level. What have you been doing for the last month that this is all you can turn in for me to look over?!”

“I’ve been a little preoccupied,” you announced, rocking back and forth in your chair. “And it’s sort of been hard to write.”

“I don’t buy it. You love to write.”

“I mean, I have been writing,” you agreed, grinning sheepishly. “Just not on what I’m contracted to be doing.”

“Y/N!” she whined, and you sighed heavily. “How are you going to make up time if you don’t even have a first chapter formed?!”

“I don’t know exactly, but do you think delaying the third story, especially since my second one is only at the publisher’s now preparing to print, can happen? I’m sure we don’t need to bang this series out one after the other. The hype from the wait will make it only more worthwhile for the fans!”

“Not if you plan on producing this type of rubbish! There’s no life in this part you’ve sent me! It’s as if Brian’s soul was sucked clear of this world and only Charli remains.”

You choked on the drink you had reached for, and this alerted the man in the adjacent room, your hands waving him off inconspicuously before Lily saw him.

You didn’t know what your editor’s reaction would be to find out your writer’s block stemmed from you dating someone. And you certainly didn’t want to find out either.

“That’s it, I’m coming over!”

“Lily, that’s unnecessary. You don’t have to!”

“Oh, but I do. My star writer is fumbling around and not focusing enough on what she needs to be doing. Boot camp is on its way.”

“I could help her,” a new voice added to the conversation and you clamped your eyes shut as you heard the wind being knocked out of Lily entirely. Brian crouched down at your side and smiled at the camera. “Lily Morton, correct?”

“You know my name.”

“Of course. You’re an important figure in my life.”

“I… I am?!”

“I mean, you help Y/N with her stories a whole deal, so that’s a special role to have.”

“Y/N, who is this person? He looks far too familiar and yet I feel I haven’t quite met him in the flesh before.”

“It’s a--” Catching yourself from your stalemate sentence, you smiled. And for some reason, you felt compelled to introduce him properly to someone. Before you even realised it, the words fell from your mouth.

“You’ve kind of met him already, Lily. This is Brian Kang, the star of our series.”

_________________

Part 8

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