#xi-chan writes.

[ataraxixia]

𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

❦ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. sunday had a change of wardrobe and you admire him ❧ tags. sunday x reader, spoilers for 'Farewell Penacony' quest- and all penacony quests tbh, stellaronhunter!sunday, small teasing, fluff, comfort and angst ❧ a/n. ik it's not confirmed that sunday will join the stellaron hunters (yet), but c'mon- we all wish that he will join them, also I don't like this so I'll probably redo this when I've got the energy / outfit reference: oversaltedcat on twt

"Oh, wow- You look.. I dare to say even more handsome than before."

"Surely you must be overreacting. I don't look that much different."

Right now, you were on another spaceship- which belonged to the infamous Stellaron Hunters- in another star system, complimenting your dear lover Sunday's new set of clothes, which Kafka had ordered to be specifically tailored for him.

the overall design was basically the same as before, yet, ultimately different as well. his blouse was white, covered by a long, dark vest adorned with golden accents and detachable sleeves on both arms. the brooch he usually wore on his left chest was replaced by another one, right on his collar, and instead of white gloves, his were now black.

you glanced down quick, seeing that the thigh-strap was still present- a piece that you always loved.

"never said you looked different." you muttered as you stood before him, evening out his collar and slightly grazing your fingertips against his neck. a small gasp was all he let out before composing himself with a deep breath. "You made it sound like it."

you took a few steps back to take a good look again, thanking the tailor who made the outfit in your mind before sitting beside him on the couch again, "I didn't," you said, "it was just a compliment."

he scoffed playfully, knowing he didn't have the energy to argument with you anyway.

sunday would have never thought that he, former Head of the Oak Family in Penacony, would end up as a new member of the Stellaron Hunters. Fallen from grace and saved from eternal damnation by one of the most infamous criminals known to the vast cosmos. Ironic, he thought the first time they all met, yet, he got used to their company quite fast.

He remembers waking up- not in the chair he was chained up before- but in a comfortable, cozy bed with you by his side. The headaches had subdued over the time being with rest and medication, but the memories of him and robin at the Penacony Grand Theatre have not faltered. The more he thought about it, the more guilty he felt. The last he'd seen of his sister was when she embraced him during the fall, right before they plummeted to the ground.

"why are you looking at me like that?"

"just admiring my boyfriend. can't I indulge in your new-found beauty?"

sunday ignored your playful comment as he stood up from the couch, patting down some wrinkles and adjusting his gloves until everything was smoothed out- he still cared for his looks being neat and clean, after all.

"there are.. actually more clothes from the tailor and I am in need of a judge..." he gave you his usual charming and cunning smile which you knew all too well before you jumped up from the couch as well, grabbing his arm and hugging it close to your chest.

"say no more, i'll be your judge." you beamed, "maybe the next outfit will make you even more handsome than the last."

[re-re-redline]

Bright and Early

Hehe, you may be wondering where this came from and I’ll tell you! Today’s a special day for yours truly.

It’s… My birthday! And to celebrate, I drew Constantine watching the sunrise as a gift.

I tried drawing more birthday-esque things but they didn’t quite pan out the way I wanted them to, much to my chagrin.

But hey! Constantine’s a great gift on his own. So happy birthday to me and everyone else born today!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be eating some marble cake and crafting terrible jokes.

—Redline, over and out!

[astraystayyh]

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

i. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  

He’s beautiful. 

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 

“Touché.” 

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?” 

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 

One hour later 

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 

“You made them?” 

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.” 

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 

ii. 

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose. 

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 

Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 

One week later. 

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 

“Will she be okay?” 

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 

“Can I read what you wrote?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?” 

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing. 

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 

You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 

iv. 

You’re avoiding him. 

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 

“Okay!” 

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 

“What happened to connected Chris?” 

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 

you win. 

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later). 

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 

It's her first time calling you mom. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

[soobnny]

inactivity warning !

hi i’m back to uni again on the 15th so i might just disappear again UGHH i’ll still be writing when i have free time but i won’t be very organized with my posting ☹️

i’ll be posting a chan drabble as a going away present (also for xi) on the day i start class i hope then i’m off to studying. the next time i can reassure that i’ll be super scheduled with posting might be on summer so that’s around june but for now, please accept my sporadic posting and my maybe not-so-organized writing

ofc i will b popping up on here once in a while to read too bc it is my greatest form of therapy for myself and is just a very healing experience for me amidst the busyness

u may still talk to me on discord if u like but i forget that app exists sometimes too so pls forgive me. when i do remember, i do reply to Every Single Message

EAT WELL AND TAKE CARE (a message brought to u by big sister sue, seungmin, and chaeryeong) !!!!

[diligence110]

This is a One shot on Sayo Hikawa and Hina Hikawa from my all time favourite anime Bang Dream!

Sayo returns home after a tiring day in the student council. As she was halfway home, it suddenly started to rain heavily. Sayo immediately regretted not bringing an umbrella in the morning.

-Earlier this morning-

"Oni-Channn!" cried Hina as she saw Sayo leaving for school. She ran to the front door to pass an umbrella to her beloved sister, saying, "The news said it will rain today, so please keep an umbrella on you, Oni-chan!"

Sayo, frustrated with Hina since their argument about love the previous night, responded harshly, "I don't need it! Leave me alone! I wish you weren't a part of my life!"

Hina, hurt by Sayo's words, dropped the umbrella, tears filling her eyes. "Oni-chan... I... *sobs* love you..."

"Shut up, you little brat!" yelled Sayo as she walked out, slamming the front door in Hina's face.

-Fast forward to the present-

Sayo has been feeling guilty the whole day in the student council, to the extent of not being able to get her reports done. "Hghhhg," sighed Sayo. "I should not have done that," she thought to herself.

Sayo recognizes that Hina loves her, but all she ever received from this was annoyance and feelings of inferiority. The frustrations of wanting to apologize and wanting to hold fast to one's pride and ego is crippling. Sayo is grappling with the weight of her harsh words.

Sayo has been jealous of Hina for years, ever since her parents started praising her more than Sayo. Hina was naturally talented and didn't need to strive, whereas Sayo never had it easy, striving her whole life to surpass Hina and not feel inferior. "I want to die," Sayo whispered.

-Time Skip to when Sayo returns home-

Sayo opens the house door, muttering, "I'm home." It took a minute, but something was off. Hina... she would usually rush downstairs with questions, but today there was no sign of her. Sayo felt relieved for once in her life, not having to deal with her sister. Proceeding upstairs for a bath and guitar practice, she noticed Hina's room door completely shut, a rare occurrence. Her room was always left ajar. Intrigued and not hearing a sound, Sayo, burdened with the weight of apology in her heart, decided to knock on Hina's door. As sayo reached to open the door and enter she heard whimpers of "Help... help..." Sayo busted open Hina's door at once only to find her suspended in the middle of her room Infront of her bed. As Sayo shifted her gaze upwards she notices a rope attached to the fan and she soon realises what was happening. "Hina!!! Hina!!"Screamed Sayo in horror. "You dont need me anymore... oni - chan. I'm sorry for the trouble my exis xis-tance has Caused..." Hina then takes her final breathe. "Oni-Chan. *Voice dies out*. I... Lo-ve~ you..." "Hina! no!... I... Still" Sayo whispers as she runs to hug Hina in in attempt to lift her body weight off to stop the choking but it was too late.

*Hina dies*

Sayo remained quiet in shock and horror her hand's covering her mouth. She hurries to bring down the body and places Hina in her lap. Sayo was crying at this point not Some thing which she has done since she was a Child. As She adjusts Hina to check for a pulse she notices writtings in her palm. The writings In the palm of Hina's hand reads: "Onii-Chan... I'm Sorry for all the pain I caused. I hate myself so much, I didn't know how much you had to strive because of me. I Love you not because of your music or guitar, I love you because your my Oni-chan!... Please don't feel sad when I'm gone. Live the rests of your days ahead of you in the most boppin'! way you can! Just knowing that you are happy makes me happy. Bye bye Oni-chann..."

Sayo after reading what Hina wrote was devastated and started crying into Hina's head whilst holding her gently in her lap. "Hina!... Don't go! I'm sorry for what I said! I never hated you! This is all my fucking fault!!!" Sayo cries in pain. Sayo kept on crying whilst holding her late sister in her embrace. Suddenly, an overwhelming feeling of guilt came upon Sayo as she realises that she didn't get to resolve their prior argument and apologise properly. Anger and frustration not towards Hina but towards herself drove her to whack her own head against the walll. She kept on hitting her head against the wall till it was bloody red. Blood and tears fell from Sayo's face. Hina was Sayo's number one motivation and now that she is gone there is nothing left. Sayo never said it but Hina was the most important person in her life.

-Fast forward to after Hina's body was taken away by the ambulance, and Sayo is left alone in the kitchen-

The pain was too much an Sayo's leg gave way as she was in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. She fell to the floor along with the glass that shattered all over the kitchen. Sayo, remained lying on the floor hopelessly. She was lost. Few minutes passed and Sayo lifted her gaze to their apartment window. She saw how freely the birds flew pass without a care in the world, "hah, how nice it must be" she muttered. Sayo, then stood up still trembling from the pain she inflicted upon herself physically and emotionally. She opened their apartment window and without hesitation placed one leg out unto the ledge. "Hina can I come with you?" Sayo was losing all rationality and the voices in her head began to take preeminence. "Oni-Chan!!! Where are you!" said one of the voices in Sayo's head. "Hina!? HINA!!! I'M COMING!" Sayo was elated with joy they she unintentionally jerked her feet which was on the ledge leading her to lose her balanced and as her feet slipped there on Sayo's face was a big a joyful smile. "ah, this is it." Said sayo as the view of inside her apartment suddenly shifted to the view of the clouds as she falls. "Hina. Please wait for me I promise we will be together side by side," Sayo mutter's her last words as she heard a loud crack sound and her vision turns black.

[sailoryooons]

you say I'm being nice, i say I'm being honest (I also say yes to your marriage proposal, no takebacksies)

as an engagement gift to us I thought I'd give you some book recs:

She Who Became the Sun, by Shelley Parker Chan

This book had me floored at certain parts where it navigates gender, sexuality, identity and purpose. I would be sat there feeling so captivated by the exploration of the MC's discovery of self that I knew it would stay high in favourites no matter what I would end up feeling about the plot lol. The good news is I like the plot too ahaha. I think it could be considered a slow burn for excitement levels, I know I recommended it to a friend who didn't read further than the first 1/4 bc it just didn't captivate them. It's the first physical book I bought and read after a long reading lapse, initially pulled in by the beautiful cover, fully intrigued by the author's explainer about where the book came from & very satisfied by my overall experience with it.

Iron Widow, by Xiran Jay Zhao

I basically read this book in two sittings and finished it immediately wanting to read the second (gotta wait a couple months yet). This book is interesting. The pose isn't particularly poetic or elaborate, and some things definitely feel over explained to the reader, however I think that tone adds to the attitude/charm of the book. The voice of the protagonist is incredibly refreshing and invigorating to become one with. I don't think many of the reveals/twists will sneak up on you, but I found that I didn't mind that I could see where most things were leading & just wanted to see MC follow their path. However there was one outcome that I was pleasantly surprised by that I've since seen the author openly talk about on their social media, so I wouldn't follow them until you've give it a read if you're interested. I'm excited to read the second book to see the MC find more of their power within themselves and take more power from the world around them.

Although both books very much have Chinese historical fiction as a genre in common, She Who Became the Sun is more historical fantasy whereas Iron Widow is more futuristic/historical sci-fi.

.. Those were all over the place reviews. yeehaw.

Also, I sent asks a couple weeks ago telling you that your words are that of a surprisingly good published author and I stand by it so hard. I find myself reading and thinking that your writing would be perfect on the printed page and honestly better than so much that's already out there and well acclaimed. I would eat dirt to see a fully fledged book of your fantasy worldbuilding.

I'm so excited for every fic you're gonna release this year. So excited.

Also also

on second thoughts it would probably more appropriate to say dark fae jimin will eat me (and I certainly won't be complaining)

OKAY SO I HAVE SHE WHO BECAME THE SUN ON MY BOOKSHELF! It's on my TBR list but I just started Wheel of Time so we will see how long that takes me. It is a solid 900 page per book so I will most likely read other things between each novel. I am so excited to read it, especially now. You have no idea.

I have read Iron Widow and I CANNOT WAIT UNTIL HEAVENLY TYRANT COMES OUT! I absolutely ADORE Xiran and that story made me look more into Chinese history and theology. I love that it is technically a retelling, in a way. I thought the lore of the crysalises and the dynamics between riders and the use of xi is so!!!! She is such a fantastic writer and I also really enjoy her as a person and her straight-forward approach to publishing.

THAT WAS YOU!?!?!!? WELL I am glad that we are now engaged. You get first dibs if I ever figure out how to publish a book bestie. Honestly, I just try to like... absorb all the big fantasy writers and apply it to my writing. I think the first time I ever realized I wanted to do writing was when I read Eragon in middle school. It's just. Such a masterpiece.

Fae Jimin will 100% eat you he is going to be kind of unhinged I am not sorry!

[midorishinji]

Disappearing act - chapter XVI

Geto observed her more carefully, trying to decide whether she was being serious or not. — Killing non-sorcerers? — It's an option, but I don't take it seriously. Do you? — Yuki pressed him with a loaded question. Suguru Geto thought of them all — Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, Riko, Kuroi, his parents, Satoru — and his chest filled with an unbearable pain, but also an incredibly monumental love, so much that it felt like it would stretch and burst at the seams of his heart that could not contain it. He thought of his father again, reading him "Night on the Galactic Railroad" when he was young, and he thought of Satoru reading his own copy now during his leisure nights. He thought of Giovanni and Campanella, and of the Scorpio of the night sky, and of the nobility of sacrifice, of setting yourself on fire to warm the world.

Satosugu ｜Finalized｜Long fic｜Also being published in Portuguese and on AO3

Chapters: I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI - XII - XIII - XIV - XV - XVI - XVII

Chapter XVI: I have drunken deep of joy, and I will taste no other wine tonight

Suguru Geto had never seen a cake challenge the limits of morality, but this was certainly the closest thing he could have imagined. It took two people handling it — Nanami and Haibara — while another instructed them when maneuvering that monstrosity — Shoko — so that they didn't knock over that magnanimous work of confectionery. The bakery didn't understand his request at first: the attendant repeated back what he had just said, confused, as if she hadn't heard exactly what he wanted, and he had to explain everything again.

— I want a four-tier cake: the first tier, at the base, is a milk chocolate cake with milk chocolate filling too; the second layer is a white chocolate cake with green grape filling; and the third layer is a vanilla cake, with strawberry and cream filling, and another layer of vanilla cake on top. And you can cover everything with whipped cream, generously. By the way, can you write “happy birthday, Satoru” on top? — Suguru repeated, gently — What is the biggest size of cake you make?

— Ten pounds. — the attendant explained.

He thought for a moment, thinking of the number of guests: Satoru; himself; Shoko, Nanami, Haibara; Professor Yaga; Megumi, Tsumiki, Nanako and Mimiko… No, ten pounds wouldn't be enough, not knowing the birthday boy. — Is there any way you can double the recipe and make a twenty-pound cake? Or two ten-pound cakes, and just arrange them together, I don’t know which one would be easier…

The girl's terrified expression revealed what she thought of that Homeric request. But, in the end, the bakery delivered what he had asked for: two ten-pound, four-tier cakes each, joined at the side in a discreet seam, covered by a layer of white frosting; that Frankenstein was so big that it was over a meter long and at least half that measurement wide, which is why it was so difficult to transport it. The delivery, made secretly during the early morning hours (when Satoru was still sleeping soundly), was kept in a horizontal refrigerator rented especially for the occasion, in a hidden room, as the common refrigerator in the dorms would not fit the cake.

— A little more to the left... Yeah, just a tad more. Be careful near that table, Haibara. — Shoko said, signaling with her hands as if she were helping them park a car.

When the cake was finally placed in the center of the table, Suguru sighed, relieved, because the most difficult and risky task was complete. Haibara let out the breath he had been holding, out of anxiety and fear of accidentally dropping the cake: — Phew… What now?

— We have to blow up the balloons. The kids are almost there with Satoru, Tsumiki-chan told me that they’re already in the taxi, so we have to be quick. — Geto said, handing out bags of balloons to each of them. Nanami seemed to want to die with every second that he became more and more involved in those preparations, and Shoko looked, in disbelief, at the package that she caught with her own hands.

She opened the package and grabbed the first balloon, failing miserably at blowing it, her face red and out of breath. Ieiri tried again, being watched solemnly by the boys. The balloon did not reach a quarter of its capacity. — …Alright, alright, I got it, I’ll quit smoking… — she grumbled, leaving the task to them and taking a roll of transparent tape — I’ll arrange the balloons then.

It hadn't been difficult to get Gojo out of school: while he slept in, Suguru received the cake and hid it in the refrigerator that Professor Yaga got and brought the day before; after Satoru woke up, all sunshine and rainbows, he made sure everyone sang happy birthday to him and was thrilled to be invited by the kids to have lunch at the mall so the four of them could buy him a birthday present. Suguru couldn't even imagine what kind of argument the girls used to convince Megumi to participate in the scheme.

With four pairs of hands on the task, they quickly completed the decorations. Haibara distributed the paper hats among them, and Nanami refused to wear one: — Forget it. I have dignity, I’m not gonna do this.

Shoko laughed, putting a hat on herself. — Don’t be a party pooper, come on…

— Please? Pretty please? — Yu begged.

Sighing, Kento placed the hat on himself. It would be best not to look himself in the mirror right now, or take any photos today, because that was excellent blackmail material. From outside the hallway, the voices of Satoru and the children approached the room, as he laughed loudly, carelessly.

— I told you I’m invincible in “Dance Dance Revolution”, who did that kid think he was to challenge me? I smashed it! — Gojo said, proudly, in his typically challenging tone. Suguru felt his lips twitch in an involuntary smile just by hearing his voice, just by thinking of how competitive he was and how he took everything way too seriously.

Opening the door suddenly, Geto pulled him close and into the room by the collar of his shirt. — Were you playing “Dance Dance Revolution” without me?

This gesture, which before everything would have been so perfectly casual, this time caused unexpected reactions. Suguru had never felt his heart skip a beat like that with the proximity in which their faces were, almost touching, nor had he seen Satoru turn so red with embarrassment. All of this lasted just a fraction of a second, before he was released, without anyone realizing anything was wrong.

— W-we... It's just that I... — Gojo tried to explain himself, adjusting his glasses on his face.

— He thinks it's a big deal he won against an eleven-year-old in a game. — Megumi replied, with an air of moral superiority as if he himself weren’t younger than the defeated boy.

Gojo grimaced. — Hey, I did that to defend you! — finally noticing the paper hat on everyone's heads and the special decoration, he smiled, his eyes shining brightly — Is this party for little old me?

Nanami rolled his eyes in pure irritation. — Is anyone else’s birthday today?

Despite the sarcastic tone, Satoru didn't take him the wrong way; it was just his way of being, and the fact that he was wearing a conic striped paper hat showed just how much Nanami cared. Whether they wanted to or not, they all had put in a lot of effort to make this dream come true, and thinking about it made Satoru Gojo inexplicably happy. That was his first birthday party, in the most literal sense of the word: he didn't remember having anything like it when he was young; the Gojo clan had always been strict and lonely, and he hadn't made any friends in all those years, always a god among men. But then he entered Jujutsu High, and found friends, people who treated him as an equal; he found a family of children who saw him as a witless, fun-loving older brother; he found a person he wanted to share everything with, who he trusted completely and showed the most fragile and vulnerable parts of himself, someone he could trust to help him bear the weight of being the strongest. And suddenly, things didn't seem so bad anymore.

The door to the room opened again, sliding violently. — I can't believe we're late! — a familiar voice complained — You guys haven’t sung happy birthday yet, or have you? We got stuck in traffic on the way back from the airport…

Suguru smiled. — Not yet, Riko-chan. You guys arrived just in time.

Satoru turned back, and saw Riko Amanai and Misato Kuroi there, along with Professor Yaga who was carrying both of their small travel bags in a gesture of chivalry. And then he realized that he really didn't lack anything. Taking the camera out of his jacket pocket, he placed it on top of a shelf on the wall opposite the cake table, setting the timer. — Come on, let's take a picture, everyone!

Everyone gathered behind the table, with the birthday boy in the middle; Satoru pulled Geto closer to him, as he let him put a hat on his head. The camera's flash captured Gojo's gigantic smile, although the dark lenses of his glasses hid the small tears of happiness forming in his eyes.

After the photo, someone started the chorus, and everyone sang together, while Shoko lit the candles with her lighter. — Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you… Happy birthday, dear Satoru, happy birthday to you…

— Make a wish. — Suguru whispered to him, gently.

Satoru looked at the flames of the eighteen candles that covered the center of the cake, thinking of what he should ask for: he already had everything he needed, and much more than he had ever dreamed of having. He was never the ambitious type: the Gojo clan had money and influence, and he was never interested in either of those things, preferring to use both only as tools for better purposes. He used to dream of having friends, of being treated like a normal person, a regular teenager, and this wish had already been fulfilled in the years he had been at Jujutsu High. He also no longer needed to ask someone to take care of the Time Vessel Association, because Yuki Tsukumo was on their trail, at Geto's request, because she also dreamed of a world without curses like they did. Satoru also dreamed of transforming the jujutsu world, of destroying the influence of conservative higher-ups and creating a free and fair society, even if this was idealistic and maybe even a little naive... But Suguru made him realize that this was not impossible, that it wasn’t just a silly, childish dream. He had always been, between the two of them, the one with a sensitive and fair heart, even though the world had tried to corrupt him. Gojo wanted to be there to prevent the world from hurting him, he wanted to support him, always.

It was then that he realized that there was something he wanted to ask for. Closing his eyes and blowing out the eighteen candles, he asked for courage to be able to say what he felt, to no longer remain silent on the same words as always. When he opened his eyes again, under the sound of clapping, the only thing Satoru Gojo could focus on was Geto's smile at him.

[tiaracinta]

Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 English Sub - Full Episodes

Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 English Subtitles

Kudi Liu Li and Pei Xing Jian have a harmonious marriage. When he is demoted from his position, she follows him to Xizhou where they encounter the young noble Qu Chong Yu. Qu Chong Yu is very wary of Pei Xing Jian who has suddenly been assigned an official post and purposely makes trouble for the new arrivals. The couple shares the same mind and heart in doing what's best for the people. Their sincerity eventually moves Qu Chong Yu thus turning an enemy into a friend. Meanwhile, Su Hai Zheng who is the Anxi Grand Protectorate have detained Pei Xing Jian for their own benefit. Liu Li mobilizes the people of Xizhou to write their pleas to help her husband return home. When danger looms, she once again uses her ingenuity in ensuring the safety of the people of Xizhou. (Source: ChineseDrama.info) ~~ Adapted from the novel “Da Tang Ming Yue” (大唐明月) by Lan Yun Shu (蓝云舒). Edit Translation

⬇️⬇️Watch Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 Eng Sub - Full Episodes⬇️⬇️

Website : https://tinyurl.com/2ubkuhe6

Related Content Weaving a Tale of Love (Chinese prequel)

Country: China

Episodes: 37

Aired: Nov 4, 2023 - Nov 25, 2023

Aired On: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

Original Network: Youku, ZJTV

Content Rating: Not Yet Rated

Native Title: 风起西州 第二部

Also Known As: Weaving a Tale of Love 2 , Feng Qi Xi Zhou Di Er Ji , Feng Qi Xi Zhou 2 , 风起霓裳 第二部 , 风起西州 2

Director: Chan Ka Lam, He Zhen Hua, Yang Xiao Bo

Genres: Historical, Romance

Tags: Married Female Lead, Married Male Lead, Historical Fiction, Enemies To Friends, Smart Female Lead, Tang Dynasty, Adapted From A Novel, Friendship (Vote or add tags)

[oliviapurwanti]

Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 English Sub - Full Episodes

Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 English Subtitles

Kudi Liu Li and Pei Xing Jian have a harmonious marriage. When he is demoted from his position, she follows him to Xizhou where they encounter the young noble Qu Chong Yu. Qu Chong Yu is very wary of Pei Xing Jian who has suddenly been assigned an official post and purposely makes trouble for the new arrivals. The couple shares the same mind and heart in doing what's best for the people. Their sincerity eventually moves Qu Chong Yu thus turning an enemy into a friend. Meanwhile, Su Hai Zheng who is the Anxi Grand Protectorate have detained Pei Xing Jian for their own benefit. Liu Li mobilizes the people of Xizhou to write their pleas to help her husband return home. When danger looms, she once again uses her ingenuity in ensuring the safety of the people of Xizhou. (Source: ChineseDrama.info) ~~ Adapted from the novel “Da Tang Ming Yue” (大唐明月) by Lan Yun Shu (蓝云舒). Edit Translation

⬇️⬇️Watch Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 Eng Sub - Full Episodes⬇️⬇️

Website : https://tinyurl.com/2ubkuhe6

Related Content Weaving a Tale of Love (Chinese prequel)

Country: China

Episodes: 37

Aired: Nov 4, 2023 - Nov 25, 2023

Aired On: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

Original Network: Youku, ZJTV

Content Rating: Not Yet Rated

Native Title: 风起西州 第二部

Also Known As: Weaving a Tale of Love 2 , Feng Qi Xi Zhou Di Er Ji , Feng Qi Xi Zhou 2 , 风起霓裳 第二部 , 风起西州 2

Director: Chan Ka Lam, He Zhen Hua, Yang Xiao Bo

Genres: Historical, Romance

Tags: Married Female Lead, Married Male Lead, Historical Fiction, Enemies To Friends, Smart Female Lead, Tang Dynasty, Adapted From A Novel, Friendship (Vote or add tags)

[yukyuknisa]

Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 English Sub - Full Episodes

Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 English Subtitles

Kudi Liu Li and Pei Xing Jian have a harmonious marriage. When he is demoted from his position, she follows him to Xizhou where they encounter the young noble Qu Chong Yu. Qu Chong Yu is very wary of Pei Xing Jian who has suddenly been assigned an official post and purposely makes trouble for the new arrivals. The couple shares the same mind and heart in doing what's best for the people. Their sincerity eventually moves Qu Chong Yu thus turning an enemy into a friend. Meanwhile, Su Hai Zheng who is the Anxi Grand Protectorate have detained Pei Xing Jian for their own benefit. Liu Li mobilizes the people of Xizhou to write their pleas to help her husband return home. When danger looms, she once again uses her ingenuity in ensuring the safety of the people of Xizhou. (Source: ChineseDrama.info) ~~ Adapted from the novel “Da Tang Ming Yue” (大唐明月) by Lan Yun Shu (蓝云舒). Edit Translation

⬇️⬇️Watch Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 Eng Sub - Full Episodes⬇️⬇️

Website : https://tinyurl.com/2ubkuhe6

Related Content Weaving a Tale of Love (Chinese prequel)

Country: China

Episodes: 37

Aired: Nov 4, 2023 - Nov 25, 2023

Aired On: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

Original Network: Youku, ZJTV

Content Rating: Not Yet Rated

Native Title: 风起西州 第二部

Also Known As: Weaving a Tale of Love 2 , Feng Qi Xi Zhou Di Er Ji , Feng Qi Xi Zhou 2 , 风起霓裳 第二部 , 风起西州 2

Director: Chan Ka Lam, He Zhen Hua, Yang Xiao Bo

Genres: Historical, Romance

Tags: Married Female Lead, Married Male Lead, Historical Fiction, Enemies To Friends, Smart Female Lead, Tang Dynasty, Adapted From A Novel, Friendship (Vote or add tags)

[nadnadayu]

Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 English Sub - Full Episodes

Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 English Subtitles

Kudi Liu Li and Pei Xing Jian have a harmonious marriage. When he is demoted from his position, she follows him to Xizhou where they encounter the young noble Qu Chong Yu. Qu Chong Yu is very wary of Pei Xing Jian who has suddenly been assigned an official post and purposely makes trouble for the new arrivals. The couple shares the same mind and heart in doing what's best for the people. Their sincerity eventually moves Qu Chong Yu thus turning an enemy into a friend. Meanwhile, Su Hai Zheng who is the Anxi Grand Protectorate have detained Pei Xing Jian for their own benefit. Liu Li mobilizes the people of Xizhou to write their pleas to help her husband return home. When danger looms, she once again uses her ingenuity in ensuring the safety of the people of Xizhou. (Source: ChineseDrama.info) ~~ Adapted from the novel “Da Tang Ming Yue” (大唐明月) by Lan Yun Shu (蓝云舒). Edit Translation

⬇️⬇️Watch Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 Eng Sub - Full Episodes⬇️⬇️

Website : https://tinyurl.com/2ubkuhe6

Related Content Weaving a Tale of Love (Chinese prequel)

Country: China

Episodes: 37

Aired: Nov 4, 2023 - Nov 25, 2023

Aired On: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

Original Network: Youku, ZJTV

Content Rating: Not Yet Rated

Native Title: 风起西州 第二部

Also Known As: Weaving a Tale of Love 2 , Feng Qi Xi Zhou Di Er Ji , Feng Qi Xi Zhou 2 , 风起霓裳 第二部 , 风起西州 2

Director: Chan Ka Lam, He Zhen Hua, Yang Xiao Bo

Genres: Historical, Romance

Tags: Married Female Lead, Married Male Lead, Historical Fiction, Enemies To Friends, Smart Female Lead, Tang Dynasty, Adapted From A Novel, Friendship (Vote or add tags)

[ataraxixia]

❀～❀ 𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ❀～❀

❦welcome to ataraxixia's kinktober event! it's my first time participating 'n I'll be posting fics weekly since I probably won't be able to write daily

❦note: some of these works may contain kinks that might not be for you, do not click on something you aren't comfortable with, much love

❦status: ongoing

❧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

❦important: some fics will feature up to 4 characters; two from genshin and two from hsr. y'all can send in a request with a character you'd want with a specific prompt/ day :> it'd probably be first come first served but don't be disappointed when your request hadn't made it through; I'll be sure to write other fanfics after kinktober <3 for obvious reasons, I won't write for any child characters or minors or characters implied to be minors, physically minors, etc. etc. yk the drill; also writing only men- I can't write women

❦if there aren't enough requests by the end of september 30th (which is the likely outcome) i'll add characters myself or simply write less

𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬 genshin impact: tartaglia ; ??? honkai star rail: boothill ; ??? 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟖: 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 + 𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 genshin impact: neuvillette ; ??? honkai star rail: luocha ; aventurine 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟓: 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 + 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 genshin impact: ??? honkai star rail: dr. ratio 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐: 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 genshin impact: ??? honkai star rail: moze ; Argenti 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟗: 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 genshin impact: ??? honkai star rail: sunday ; jing yuan

...some things I gotta say for the end: if someone can send me a message and tell me how to add the links for the fics will kiss your cheek :> also, feel free to ask to be tagged (´∀｀)♡

❧ataraxia

𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

[aulianadd]

Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 English Sub - Full Episodes

Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 English Subtitles

Kudi Liu Li and Pei Xing Jian have a harmonious marriage. When he is demoted from his position, she follows him to Xizhou where they encounter the young noble Qu Chong Yu. Qu Chong Yu is very wary of Pei Xing Jian who has suddenly been assigned an official post and purposely makes trouble for the new arrivals. The couple shares the same mind and heart in doing what's best for the people. Their sincerity eventually moves Qu Chong Yu thus turning an enemy into a friend. Meanwhile, Su Hai Zheng who is the Anxi Grand Protectorate have detained Pei Xing Jian for their own benefit. Liu Li mobilizes the people of Xizhou to write their pleas to help her husband return home. When danger looms, she once again uses her ingenuity in ensuring the safety of the people of Xizhou. (Source: ChineseDrama.info) ~~ Adapted from the novel “Da Tang Ming Yue” (大唐明月) by Lan Yun Shu (蓝云舒). Edit Translation

⬇️⬇️Watch Weaving a Tale of Love Season 2 Episode 28 - 29 Eng Sub - Full Episodes⬇️⬇️

Website : https://tinyurl.com/2ubkuhe6

Related Content Weaving a Tale of Love (Chinese prequel)

Country: China

Episodes: 37

Aired: Nov 4, 2023 - Nov 25, 2023

Aired On: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

Original Network: Youku, ZJTV

Content Rating: Not Yet Rated

Native Title: 风起西州 第二部

Also Known As: Weaving a Tale of Love 2 , Feng Qi Xi Zhou Di Er Ji , Feng Qi Xi Zhou 2 , 风起霓�� 第二部 , 风起西州 2

Director: Chan Ka Lam, He Zhen Hua, Yang Xiao Bo

Genres: Historical, Romance

Tags: Married Female Lead, Married Male Lead, Historical Fiction, Enemies To Friends, Smart Female Lead, Tang Dynasty, Adapted From A Novel, Friendship (Vote or add tags)

[astraystayyh]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ winter falls

I'm so excited to announce this collab series with my @forlix where we'll be posting winter themed fics for each one of the boys!!!!! brainstorming these with xi was the most fun ever i hope you'll enjoy our collab (alternatively named dead dick december)

all the fics, except for Chan's, Minho’s and Han's are with a gender neutral reader.

minors & ageless blogs dni w/han’s fic as it is nsfw!

no holiday is specified by name so you can imagine whatever!

we're also opening a special taglist for the series! you can comment down here or send an ask to either me or xian to be added! (6/8 posted)

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Pieces of you ❆ bang chan @astraystayyh (8.7k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ single dad!chan. neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. [posted: 12/02/24]

In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chan and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

Something has melted ❆ lee minho @forlix

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ spy x family!au, fake dating!au, fluff

Your obnoxious coworkers never get off your ass about how single you are, and your temporary husband is too happy to make them eat their words.

Burning in the winter wind ❆ changbin @astraystayyh (4.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ (fake) enemies to lovers. hurt/comfort. college!au. [posted: 26/02/24.]

Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.

The snow falls, we fall apart ❆ hyunjin @astraystayyh (13k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ roommates to lovers. angst. hurt/comfort. slow burn. longing.

when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

(+18) Empty my mind ❆ han jisung @forlix (6.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ friends with benefits to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort. [posted: 06/01/24]

For the first time in a long time, Han Jisung has something to lose.

Everything has changed (besides myself) ❆ lee felix @forlix (5.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff. [posted: 09/12/2023]

You spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

Warm winter ❆ kim seungmin @forlix

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff

“i don’t deserve you,” he breathes, “but god, i want to.”

Please fall before I fall ❆ jeongin @astraystayyh (2.8k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ childhood best friends to lovers. hint of unrequited love (they're idiots) [posted: 18/01/24]

3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours. (and ended up confessing along the way)

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

...titles are all inspired by han's incredible songwriting in Winter Falls, han write a happy song #challengefailed.

[angieloveshua]

“My five stars danmei novels.” | Short maybe not short reasons why I like them.

🎋 —Yuwu.

carrd.

Another one by the Queen. I wanted to read Yuwu a long time ago, and when I finished it, I was extremely satisfied. Meatbun just doesn't fail.

Mo Xi and Gu Mang are characters that I both love and respect. In fact, Gu Mang is one of my best friend's protégé (in this parentheses, I want to cheer on her because she had to bear with my curses on a certain character at 5:00 a.m.)

Yuwu is a novel that shows the cruelty of slavery. It makes feel horrified when you read the pain slaves have to go through —people of high class often forgot that they were humans, just like them. The fight for their rights is depicted in the book and the way it was managed with was immaculate.

Yuwu also has two of my favourite things in novels: politics and cultivation. There are a lot of intrigues, and I want to mention that this novel is connected with 2ha and if you have read said book before, you'll understand more about the character's origins.

Did I cry? For God's sake, this is a novel by Meatbun. I remember I was traveling with my family when I was reading the last chapters and I was this )( close to cry in public. Meatbun just has a way to get into your heart with her words.

🎋 —Fanservice Paradox.

carrd.

This is my most recently read novel, and the first thing I want to say is that YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO THIS BOP NOW. Pozhen help this novel get its five stars.

Fanservice Paradox is about a boyband! I actually stan BTS, and Kaleido sort of make me thing about them because they both started in a small company and now they're superstars love by millions of people!

Zhichu knows how to write that tension between her characters. It was so satisfying reading it —you end up shipping them as hard as TingJue fans!

This book also has a lot of philosophical and mathematical thinking. Fang Juexia has a degree on mathematics and Pei Tingsong is a student of philosophy. Their studies have a lot of influence on the way they view life and they make you reflect.

🎋 —TGCF.

carrd.

TGCF holds a special place in my heart. I read it when I was going through a hard moment in my life, and it helped me a lot.

I didn't know I could cry so much reading a novel until Hua Cheng popped up. Yes, that handsome gentleman made me realised I wasn't as strong as I thought. There moments I was doing OK and then I thought about him and I had tears in my eyes, I'm not lying.

And guys, there's a reason why Xie Lian is Hua Cheng's only god —he makes you want to worship him once you've gone through all his story (but remember to worship them together so that your wishes come true!)

THEIR RELATIONSHIP, OMG. Just one word: devotion.

I liked the way the story is written, with one volume in the present and the other in the past. The arcs are also amazing <3.

🎋 —Wushuang.

carrd.

I TAKE FULL OFFENSE if you've been following me all this time without reading this novel, seriously, stop what you're doing right now and go read it.

Wushuang is a Qian Qiu's sequel (another amazing novel, by the way), and it has POLITICS AND MARTIAL ARTS. 💖

Feng Xiao is a beauty with amazing martial skills (hey, he even had a fight with Yan Wushi once), and Cui Buqu has the kind of brain you want to kiss. FengCui is my best friend's favourite couple! Although these two aren't the kind to recite poetry, their actions speak how much they care about each other.

The plot is [chef's kiss]. I didn't want to do anything besides reading Wushuang at that time because it was just so addictive.

🎋 —Nan Chan.

carrd.

I remember this novel as the one with the best first chapter I've read in my life, just read the following:

“What do you see?”

“A mountain of corpses amidst a sea of blood.”

“Why have you come?”

“To kill.”

AND THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT YOU FIND WHEN YOU OPEN THE NOVEL. Tell me you if you're not baited.

Nan Chan is a novel that covers the Eight Sufferings in life according to Buddhism in a series of arcs that have characters that make you easily connected with their stories.

The main characters are 🥺. And, oh, this novel has a dragon, A DRAGON. Cang Ji is the best. ♡ And Jing Lin, get behind me, I'll protect you! (said the girl who is 1.50 m tall). Reading their wedding was literally one of the best things that could happened in my life.

And, ah, how can't I not say this? This novel has the character I hate the most. Tao Zhi, fuck you.

And that's it for this part of Angie recs! Hope you give a try to all these amazing novels. ♡

I'll post pt. 4 when BAB has more official art.

[aju-naisu]

jeonghan: oh, let me see what you have!

dino, running away: a k n I F E

jeonghan, screaming: n O ! !

joshua, in the background: oh my god, why does he have a kni