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sweetchildcloud · 4 months

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||MINI ME|| written by me ☆~♡~◇

Plot: Gojo being an affectionate father as he meets his baby for the first time.

Tags-Breast feeding mention,lots of cuddles,fluff,fatherly love,heartwarming,cute overload.

@muzansslxt

“You’re cuter” Gojo teases, but he is pleased. He likes watching you nurse Hotaru. It’s a special moment, for the both of you and your child. “He’s adorable” Satoru continues, his voice dripping with affection “but his mother… hm, far more gorgeous" Satoru laughs softly and pulls the baby in for a tight squeeze. Then, he lifts his head and stares at him once more, holding him at arm's length. The baby’s eyes are wide and bright, like stars in the sky "You have my eyes, little one. You have my eyes...and that adorable chuckle" He adds, before grinning to himself. It feels good looking at his baby. Good and strange. The whole situation was a bit surreal, in a good way, but... "I think I'm starting to understand what being a dad means"

Hatoru yawned as he wobbled scooting near his father chest and laying his head on his shoulder.

Satoru grins as he feels the weight of his son’s head resting on his shoulder. He gently caress Hotaru’s head as the baby falls asleep, and Satoru’s hand comes down to rub soft circles on his son’s back.

Hatoru yawned and he whimpered softly as he couldn't sleep continuously sifting in his dad embrace.

Satoru looks down at his son, noticing the baby’s tired, watery eyes. Immediately, he feels guilt again, realizing that his son is still adjusting to his new surroundings and hasn’t gotten used to falling asleep by himself yet. With a gentle sigh, he pulls Hotaru close to himself again, his grip tightening around the baby as a way to offer more comfort. “Shh” Satoru whispers quietly as he rocks his son “It’s okay… I’m here. I’m here….”

But that didn't help much as Hotaru whimper continued, his tiny fists clutching to his chest as he whimpers, more maybe he needed his pacifier.

Satoru’s heart twists when he hears the cries continue. He couldn’t stand seeing his son like this, with his tiny fists clutching his cheeks and his big, blue eyes so watery. Without a second thought, he pulls out a pacifier from his pocket and pops it into Hotaru’s mouth. The baby chews on the pacifier with an adorable expression, sucking on it as he does. “Better?” Satoru smiles, letting out a breath of relief.

Satoru stares at his son for a long moment, his breath caught in his throat over how *tiny* the baby is. His tiny fists on Satoru’s chest, his chubby cheeks as they wobble with his yawns, a small smear of drool as he sucks on the pacifier—everything about the little one makes Satoru’s heart swell. The baby looks incredibly adorable right now, and Satoru can’t help but feel a little happy to see the little one so calm.

"Boop" Gojo said soflty as he booped softly Hatoru little bitty nose with the tip of his finger and the baby made a cooing noise curling up his nose.

You sighed looking at the two of them and how cute they were before you let a yawn of your own "Let's go to bed sweetie" you said tiredly at Gojo.

“In a few minutes” Satoru pouted whispering, his gaze still on his son. “Just…” The baby’s sleepy eyes are adorable, and he can’t help but feel affectionate seeing them in this state. “Just let me cherish this moment, please?”

"Oh my god you're so adorable, you're not having a baby fever now are you?" You asked smirking looking at him.

“Maybe a little...” Satoru smiles, not denying it. The entire situation with them becoming parents was a bit overwhelming, but... it was so worth it. He loves it here, with his son in his arms, smiling at him just as he is. “You’re not jealous are you? And “If you mean ‘is seeing my baby like this making me feel all kinds of feels’? Yes” he answers, feeling a bit sheepish “And if it’s not baby fever, then… I don’t even know what to call it. Just watching him sleep makes me smile for some reason”

He paused before adding

“Is that weird?” He asks, still admiring Hotaru’s sleeping form. “I just feel…” A strange feeling of warmth erupted throughout his body. Love, maybe? “I feel content”

"No,not at all,it just means that you love your son and I feel the same" you said caressing softly the baby cheek as he sleeps

The warm sensation spreads through Gojo’s chest as he stares down at his son. Hatoru is so small and innocent that he makes Gojo want to cover him in kisses and hugs. He never imagined being a father would make him feel like this. Love and affection, sure, but this… this is a whole new world of emotions that he’s never experienced before. “It’s a nice feeling” he murmurs. “A very nice feeling”

“We should get to bed now, right?” He asks, still watching his son’s sleeping face, then looking over to you. He doesn’t want to miss this moment, but he also doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself.

"You can bring the baby in our bed so that we can sleep together"

Satoru looks down at Hotaru at your suggestion and his heart flutters. Yes. He wants that. He wants that very, *very* much. The two of you could sleep in bed with the baby together. Hold him close as he sleeps. It would be the most content moment of his life. Satoru swallows, trying to keep himself from smiling like an idiot. “That’s a great idea”

Satoru nods and gets up, taking his son in his arms once more. The baby is *so* light. So delicate. So cute. He chuckles as he follows you up the stairs, and walks into the bedroom. Your bed is large enough for a king, and it doesn’t take you long to climb into bed and pull Hotaru with each of you at either side. “We’re a family” Satoru whispers, his voice nearly breaking. “We’re a family now”

"Are you crying?" You asked giggling softly at your husband antics.

Satoru gives you a sheepish smile. It’s true, he has tears in his eyes. Not tears of sadness, but tears of pure joy. “Am I crying?” he chuckles softly, wiping his eyes. “Maybe just a little. This—” he gestures to their family in bed “—it’s just so beautiful… so precious…” “We created this…” He continues. “Me and you, together, we created this perfect thing” Satoru smiles again, his voice cracking with emotion as he stares down at his son. “There’s nothing better in the world than this”

“You’re a sentimental idiot” you giggled and rolled your eyes amusedly, but you didn't object when Satoru sweeps you up in a warm embrace and pulls you close to hug you. You’re a family now. Hotaru is yours, and together, you are more than you’ve ever been.

Bonus:

Satoru laughs softly, pressing his face against you “I’m a sentimental idiot” He agrees, smiling against your cheek. “But my God, I don’t think there’s anything in the world that can make me so happy right now. You and our baby…” He trails off as he continues to embrace you contented and completely at ease as you both slowly drift off to sleep.

♤♡◇♧☆♤♡◇♧☆♤♡◇♧☆♤♡◇♧☆♤

Me thinking about this:

☆Happy,happy,happy~☆

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i-will-write · 1 year

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me? abandoning wips? no no no you misunderstand me, i have never abandoned a single wip i’ve ever thought of, i just find other wips to entertain myself with until i eventually go back to the other wips i was on years ago

#and so the cicle continue on #forever and ever #amen #anyway #post shamelessy ripped off for precious reblog #fanfiction #ao3 #fanfic #writing #writers #writer problems #writers meme #wip #wip stuff #wips #too many wips #i have so many wips #writers woes

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elialys · 4 months

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"You know, I am a fucking disaster. But I'm also relentless. And I'm loyal. I think we can make you a newsreader."

THE NEWSREADER | 1.01 "Three, Two, One..."

#Anna Torv #Sam Reid #Helen Norville #Dale Jennings #The Newsreader #Helen x Dale #helendale #this episode is everything #as a writer i am IN LOVE with the storytelling #the way this episode makes you care so deeply about those two in less than an hour is incredible #incredible writing & incredible performances #incredible cinematography too everything about this show is so pretty #those two are so damn precious I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL #disastrous lonely people finding each other is one of my biggest weaknesses and i regret nothing #gifs*#mine #listened to half an audiobook making this & had the time of my life tbh #just sad that it looks so bad on mobile but ah well 🫠

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nocreativityfornames · 6 months

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More detailed:

Zombie Apocalypse AU: self explanatory, it's the end of the world, the brothers are humans and not actually related ( apart from the twins and Lucifer and Satan maybe ) and they just come together with MC as a group to survive together. Bonus points if some of them die throughout the event. Yeah, that's right, I want that ANGST. ( Solmare will never give it to us though... )

MC gets sick and the brothers have to take care of them: already talked about this in this post :3

Lucifer is out for the weekend, chaos ensues in the house: classic movie trope, the dad leaves and everyone's excited to do whatever the fuck they want and throw a massive party in the house, only for the parent to send a text saying they're coming back earlier than expected. CHAOS.

The bros become humans for a few days/a week: they're hit with some spell, idk, but become a human for a limited amount of time and have to learn what it's like to live as a human. ( I CRAVE for this to have a scene where Satan gets a paper cut and is just blown away because wtf, HUMANS ARE THAT FRAGILE?!?! ) They're all grow a massive respect for MC at the end, because how the fuck do you live like this??

MC becomes an actual sheep: could be another animal too, but I chose sheep because you know, MC is represented by a sheep. It'd just be a cute scenario, and funny too. Give it to me!

Satan & MC bring a cat home and attempt to hide it from the others: idk, could be satan or mc that finds a hurt street kitten, so they bring it home with them and immediately text the other like: "HELP, EMERGENCY SITUATION, CAT INVOLVED!!"

They keep the kitten in one of their rooms and hide it from the others, but slowly, one by one the brothers start finding out about it, and OH BOY DO THEY GET ATTACHED.

The last one who finds out is Lucifer, obviously, but at that point everyone has already grown heart eyes for the tiny thing, and he can't say no to keeping it because all his 6 little brothers + MC are pleading him to let the cat stay and his heart can't take it. WE ADOPT A CAT, FINALLY!

( this one is just what I have as canon for my mc, honestly XD )

#om writers from tumblr feel free to take any of these and turn into a fic because I'd READ THE SHIT out of any of them #especially the satan & mc adopt a cat one because it's far too precious to me #also the apocalypse one because tlou is one of my favorites games ever and a zombie apocalypse au with the bros would break my heart #BUT IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #omnb #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me #obey me polls #☙ no creativity for names ✾

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abronzeagegod · 4 months

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Dead Letters, Missing Wife

Dead Letter #0 & 1 Marriage Certificate and 'Come Find Me'

[a cleaned up and longer version of this post and prompt]

You had just turned 18 over the weekend. Reaching the age of majority or whatever. Sunday birthdays are whatever, you have the day off of school and responsibilities but the looming threat of Monday hangs over the entire day.

At least with this Monday you have the joy of looking forward to belated birthday letters and things being delivered to you since the mail doesn't go on Sundays.

Sure enough after school there was a small stack of letters for you.

Grandma, aunts, uncles, your one weird cousin that lives in the mountains.

All birthday wishes and greetings. I was nice.

Then there was a large, thick envelope that said, "Department of Recognition, Vows, and Contracts."

You carefully tear along the edge of the large envelope and open it. Two things are there. One is something that looks like what you imagine your eventual college diploma would look like. Thick, impressive paper that almost feels laminated, some kind of fun calligraphy across it. There was also a piece of paper.

The paper was forgotten about at first.

The certificate, was a marriage certificate. For you and your first crush, your best friend at 6 years old, Siobhan.

There was your name and Siobhan Winters.

"This certificate recognizes the wedding vows exchanged between these two parties as complete and binding upon the youngest reaching their age of majority."

The memories come flooding back. You hadn't thought of Siobhan in years. Hell, you haven't even seen them in twice as long.

You were a demanding six year old. It was something about you that you were just adamant that this was how things were and how they were supposed to be. And seeing Siobhan, a cute little kid with long blonde hair that was so blonde it was almost white, big green eyes, and just this quiet demeanor to everyone but you, of course she was the one that you figured out what the terms "crush" and "fall in love" and everything meant. Those words were just words, descriptions of parents and grandparents and why they were together for so long, but Siobhan was the person that made the definition real and gave it tangibility and form for you.

She was your best friend but that wasn't quite enough for you at six years old. You dragged her to the pond out back of the neighborhood. The pond was on the edge of a small wood, really nothing more than a copse of trees and wilderness in the suburban sprawl, but it felt like a great and terrible wood when you were that small.

You donned a veil because there was something Traditional, and Correct, about hiding your face from your best friend/crush. You didn't have a ring but you did spend your allowance on candy at the corner shop, and in your haul were two candy rings.

There were somethings about weddings that you know, but you don't know much.

You know there was a veil, that was very important. You know there were rings. You know there were vows and witnesses.

There were vows, you know that for a fact. You just can't quite remember, now, what they were. Siobhan said them with such gravitas and meaning and weight to them that you still feel the shivers up your spine when you think about it.

The frogs were your witnesses.

The ring pops were the binding rings, exchanged with words of devotion.

Siobhan lifted your veil, and pulled you into a hug.

As far as the two of you were concerned, you were married!

The frogs croaked in happiness.

Apparently, the Department of Recognition, Vows, and Contracts also thought that the marriage was real. And as the younger of the two, you were the last one to reach the age of majority, and the marriage certificate was mailed to you.

As if that answered any questions.

The nostalgia calls after you and you want to remember Siobhan as they were and not the hazy memories of childhood.

You immediately start digging through your old year books, or whatever the grade school equivalent of a year books was.

It was only then that you recall that Siobhan never made it to picture day in kindergarten.

Nor did she make it to picture day the year after, or the year after, or any year until she moved away in sixth grade.

Puzzled, intrigued, and now even more confused, you head downstairs where you find your mom working hard on a crossword puzzle.

"Hey, what's a four letter word for black and white?" she asks.

"Oreo," you answer without really thinking about it. "Hey, do you remember my friend Siobhan? From kindergarten and grade school?"

Your mom finishes filling in your answer, looking pleased with herself for having most of the puzzle finished. "Was that the weird one with the cape and the glasses?"

"No, that was Steph."

"Oh yeah, she really loved random trivia, didn't she?"

"Yup."

"Siobhan was the one that was always looking for dinosaur bones in everyone's backyard?"

"That's Joel. No, Siobhan. She came over all the time, we would go play in the backyard, and went to the park together like every day. You didn't like her dad like at all. One day after kindergarten I demanded that I was gonna make her my wife and did a little ceremony out by the pond."

"Oh! Right!" Your mom looks up at you, lost in memory for a second. "Lived across the street, wild black hair, always asked if we had Cheetos."

"No. Mom. That was Matt. Siobhan. Cute kid, always seemed to be the smallest kid in class. Green eyes that had a look you called 'an old soul with the million yard stare'. Platinum blonde hair that was almost grey in a very long braid all the time."

Your mom makes eye contact with you but she doesn't seem to see you. "You never had a friend like that," she says in a strange, almost monotone.

Confused and a little weirded out, you decide to drop it, and head back up to your room. If you mom wasn't going to help you then perhaps the internet would. You don't like to brag, but you're extremely adept at Facebook stalking and finding people.

One time, at your part time job over the summer, you had a really weird coworker that you only knew for three days, lied about almost everything, and then was fired for being outrageously high on the clock. They claimed that they were getting a job in a small town in Alaska as a Fire Marshall and promptly disappeared.

All you had to find them was their first name and the fact that they worked at the same place you did for a very short amount of time.

It took you only a couple of days to find them. They did not move to Alaska, they went one town over and bounced around between barbacking jobs and running a mildly successful etsy shop.

So you use all the skills that you possess and try to reach out to all sorts of people to find someone with a shared memory of Siobhan. Friends, teachers, people you shared classes with that you'd rather never speak to again.

Every. Single. Response. "You never had a friend like that."

This went from being some weird, intriguing mystery, to something vaguely sinister, and deeply creepy.

No one seemed to remember Siobhan except for you. You remember them now, perfectly. Your first crush. The first person you ever developed feelings for, as real and as deep as any 6 year old possibly could develop.

You remember her vividly. Hugging her was the best. She was shy and didn't like to be touched too much, so when she did let you hug her it was the best. It was like hugging a piece of glass. Sharp, beautiful, and fragile. You always felt that if you hugged her too tightly she was shatter.

There was no way you could let this rest now. No way that you could let this end now.

You call the government office that issued you the certificate of marriage. Or at least. You tried to contact the government office.

The website listed no such department, neither locally nor federally.

You called city hall and they transferred you to a dead line.

Out of desperation you called the post office to see where the letter came from.

"Hello," you say for the fifth time this particular call after being transferred too many times. "I was hoping that you could help me track down who sent me a letter and not transfer me to someone else. I received a marriage certificate with my name and information but I can't find anyone who would have sent this to me, the department seemingly doesn't exist."

The deep, bored, and phlegmy voice asked simply, "And your spouse?"

"Siobhan Winters, I can't find any record of her either!" you say, perhaps too loudly, but your frustration is overwhelming you.

"Oh. You got a dead letter. Undeliverable since Siobhan Winters ain't here. But if your her spouse w can send you all the stuff we got sitting here for her. Do you accept?"

"Yes! Wait. What? What do you mean?"

"Everything will be delivered to you in the next two to three business days, thank you for contacting the Dead Letter Office. You have a pleasant day."

You couldn't do anything else before he hung up. You stare at the phone for a while before putting it down.

All you can do is wait for the dead letters to make it to you.

When the letters finally arrived there were boxes full. At least six boxes full of mail, and a few packages. It would take you, by rough estimate, at least three days to go through it all. Even if half of it was spam mail, it would take forever.

But on top of one of the boxes that you just found outside your front door, seemingly delivered before the sun rose, was a letter. It was addressed to you, sort of.

"To the spouse of Siobhan Winters"

That was you, by all accounts.

The letter was sealed with wax, and seemingly made out of heavy parchment, like some kind of ancient letter.

You opened it first.

"To my love,

I fear I must apologize for a great many things. I never wished to abandon you or break our vows, but there are actions I must take, deeds that must be done, purposes I must fulfill. If you have found this, found me, then I am sure you have many questions.

If you must search me out, then you can find my trail starting at our favorite place.

I love you still. I love you forever.

I still remember our vows and will endeavor to never corrupt or break them.

Please find me.

I miss you.

I need you.

I am so afraid.

Yours till the end of time,

Siobhan Winters"

You carefully fold the letter, and hold it close to you for a second.

It seems like you have to go out and find your wife.

You bring all the boxes inside, carefully put them in your bedroom where space is already running low. Your parents, barely awake and carefully sipping coffee watch you with mild confusion and interest.

"Everything good?" your dad asked as you carried in the last box.

"Mix up with the post office. A bunch of unsent mail finally made it my way," you half explain.

"Ok..."

With all of the boxes in your room you start to unpack and sort them.

There were hundreds if not thousands of spam mail for Siobhan. It seems that the only people that remember her are you and the person in charge of trying to sell HelloFresh boxes.

There seemed to be four serious piles of mail by the time that you finish sorting all six boxes.

The first pile, the biggest one, was spam mail. The one inexhaustible truth in the universe.

They were all addressed to Siobhan Winters, but seemingly were listed under a couple dozen addresses all over the country. There was something there, a code or a pattern in Siobhan's movements. But you don't quite have the brain power to think that one through.

The second pile were bills. None of them were overdue, but just notices for the stopping and starting of service. This felt like a pattern too, one that you could combine with the spam mail to really track where Siobhan had been over the course of the years she's been gone.

But that wasn't the important thing, yet.

Because the third and forth piles were much more interesting, and they were all addressed to "The Spouse of Siobhan Winters".

There were letters, all extremely similar to the first one you opened, all addressed the same, all sealed similarly.

Then there were packages. They were of various sizes but most of them were pretty small.

This was a mystery and an adventure, so you wanted to start at the end. Find Siobhan right away and then work through the rest.

After carefully looking over each letter you see that there were small numbers written on the back of each letter and package, right near the seal.

You couldn't make out the exact details of the seal in the dark purple wax, but you realize that it was probably a tower of some kind with some squiggly line accents.

The last letter, one with the number 60 on it, was the highest one you found, so you opened that one first.

Answers to start, adventure later.

"My love,

There is an order and a reason for this. It may be difficult, and it may change you in ways that you cannot see or predict. I say this now, here, that the road is long and difficult, for the better and the worse, and the changes are fundamental and total and incomprehensible until you go through it.

I do not want to discourage you from this journey.

I want you to be prepared.

You cannot remain, the act of searching has already started and changed you. There is no going back.

If you stop I would not blame you, nor would I intrude upon the peace you would inevitably seek and find. I would weep for the loss.

If you do wish to continue, you must know that there is an order, a reason, and a pattern to the journey. You cannot jump to the end, even though I recall you desperately reading the last chapters of books in school because you needed to know if there was a happy ending. This is not a story you can skip to the end.

I'm sorry.

The journey will be long and will alter everything for you. In the end there will be a choice, for you to make alone.

I'm sorry that all you have of me are these dead letters. But if you follow them in order, if you undergo the journey with me, after me, you will understand.

Yours for all time,

Siobhan"

You close the letter and sit on your bed.

After all this time she still remembers you so clearly it seemed. You still look up the plot summary of movies and TV shows before you start watching them. You'll spoil yourself left and right on things to make sure that they aren't going to end badly or not be worth the time investment.

It seems that this is not something that you can skip to the end of, this is a journey that you will have to take from the beginning.

There were so many letters and packages.

And you had a feeling that many of these things would have you going to wildly different places.

You grab your bag, stuff in some snacks and a bottle of water, and grab letter number 2.

If this is how it has to be, then you're going to start walking to the old pond where the two of you got married in kindergarten.

i have a kofi

#dead letters missing wife #i have some ideas going forward but before i went further i had to double back and clean some stuff up #work has also been killing me so time is precious #i'm working on like 4 other writing projects at the same time too #my fiction #writeblr #writers on tumblr

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scarlet-traveler · 5 months

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I think my fave Bakugou headcanon is that when he gets sleepy, all of his inhibitions go out the window. He loses the tough-guy exterior, the perpetual scowl on his face smooths out into something softer, making him look a lot younger, like the kid he actually is and not the hero everybody around him has forced him to be, and any filter that he could’ve had for his words is completely shot.

It’s always fun imagining Baku being our favorite swear guy, stomping around and trying to be stand-offish, but then as his early bedtime steadily approaches the mask starts to slip away, and then he’s docile as he hangs with the squad, looking genuinely happy and interested to be there. He leans into Kirishima’s arm slung over his shoulder, sides with Kaminari against Sero for whatever crazy debate they’ve started this time that he would usually scoff at if he were more awake. He wouldn’t even be bothered by Deku’s muttering nearby, offering up his own addendums to the other boy’s notes, no longer able to hide the fact that he’s an analytical nerd as well and too tired to even think to try.

The time frame of this is pretty short-lived though. The class gets maybe an hour at most of this softer Bakugou before he’s either slinking off to his room for the night or conking out on the nearest shoulder, trapping that classmate there until somebody has the will to disturb him.

Just- sleepy Bakugou, man.

#mha #bakugou katsuki #traveler writes #headcanon #sleepy Baku - too soft too precious too pure for this world #anyway I’m thinking about this because I started writing a sorta related drabble to get around some writers block #might have it posted by the end of the week or whenever I get the time to type it up :D

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twistedappletree · 10 months

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TYPE: One-shot (bite sized!)

JURISDICTION: It’s feelings realization, your honor.

PAIRING: Jin Ling/Lan Sizhui

SIDE CHARACTERS: Lan Jingyi, unnamed town girls

ELEMENTS: Town setting, canon universe, first kiss, Jin Ling POV, internal monologue, awkward juniors being awkward because feelings are confusing~

•

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong with himself because it’s obvious now—why he doesn’t know how to talk to girls, why it bothers him to see Lan Sizhui so natural at it, why it hurts so much to walk away from him.

Stupidly perfect, charming Lan Sizhui.

•

In which Jin Ling is bad at feelings, Lan Sizhui’s ‘people-pleasing’ is mistaken as flirting and both discover the magic of (young and awkward) communication.

{ AO3 }

🍁

Jin Ling doesn’t know how to talk to girls.

In fact, he’s better at scaring them away more than anything. Lan Jingyi doesn’t know how to talk to girls either, which makes Jin Ling feel better knowing there’s someone equally as hopeless as him—and let’s face it, it would be devastatingly embarrassing if Lan Jingyi out of all people were better at courting than him.

The thing is, no matter how much Lan Jingyi sucks at talking to girls, he still seems to enjoy it.

Jin Ling doesn’t.

And because of this, he feels like there’s something wrong with him beyond terrible social skills. That’s why, when he sees Lan Sizhui easily talking to girls as though it’s second nature, he experiences a crushing mix of jealousy and despair.

Jealousy because he’s better than Jin Ling at something? Maybe. Despair for the same reason? Possibly. But Jin Ling doesn’t even like talking to girls, or other people in general, so this reasoning doesn’t quite make sense.

They’re at the docks of a new town, going through the same routine as usual: a flock of girls their age oohs and ahhs at the young cultivators of the esteemed Lan clan, then swarms Lan Sizhui in particular—all batting eyelashes and playful smiles as they bombard him with questions.

And Lan Sizhui, a gentleman to a fault, humors them, laughs with them, matches their smiles in all the right ways at all the right times, making the group of pretty young girls swoon.

But it isn’t fair because Lan Sizhui’s smile could make anyone swoon, including Jin Ling—Wait, he thinks, What?!

Jin Ling glances at Lan Jingyi who definitely isn’t swooning and, instead, is dreamily staring at (and salivating over) the contents of a nearby food stall.

The fishermen are tending to their catches, the shopkeepers are peddling their wares, the children are chasing each other around the docks. No one is swooning over Lan Sizhui’s handsome smile except the girls… and Jin Ling.

He digs his nails into his hand to bring himself back to his senses. What the hell is wrong with me?

One of the girls makes Lan Sizhui laugh—a beautiful, carefree, genuine laugh—and Jin Ling’s heart drops.

Stupidly perfect, charming Lan Sizhui.

•

The three young cultivators stop at a tea house, still accompanied by the giggling group of girls who insist on showing them around.

They take their seats inside and Jin Ling scrunches his nose at the way the girls strategically position themselves on both sides of Lan Sizhui. Not even Lan Jingyi is given the chance to claim a seat next to his best friend.

Lan Sizhui graciously pours everyone tea while the girls argue about who gets to pour his. Lan Jingyi clings onto the conversation by telling unprompted jokes and Jin Ling tries to drown out the noise by lazily resting his cheek on his fist and staring at the wall.

Half an hour goes by in what seems like seconds and Jin Ling hasn’t spoken a word. No one seems to notice his silence or the very clear boredom and annoyance plastered on his face.

He suddenly stands up and smooths his hands over his robes. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Wait,” Lan Sizhui calls, his face swimming with something Jin Ling can’t quite place. Worry? Anxiety?

“I’ll go with you,” he says, trying to stand up but the girls suddenly whine and paw at his robes, tugging him back down to his seat.

Jin Ling rolls his eyes at the pathetic sight. “Don’t bother. I won’t be gone long anyway.”

Lan Sizhui frowns and Jin Ling doesn’t understand why. Surely, if Wei Wuxian were here, he’d be egging the Lan boy on, telling him how proud he is, how Lan Sizhui is such a heartbreaker (because my god, is he ever).

Without another word, Jin Ling reluctantly tears his gaze from Lan Sizhui, walks out of the tea house and into the street. His head pounds, his heart aches, the world drains of color.

Stupidly perfect, charming Lan Sizhui.

•

Jin Ling sits on a crescent moon bridge in a spacious garden, idly dipping a cattail stalk into the pond below and watching as a colorful spectrum of koi fish nip at what they think is food.

The town’s bustle and noise is muffled enough that he can finally hear himself think. No one else is in the garden but him and he hopes it stays that way.

The problem is, he doesn’t know what to think about. He doesn’t know if thinking is even worth it.

All he knows is that he wants to be alone. He hates to be alone. He hates him. He wants him. He wants, he hates, he—

“Young Master Jin?”

The cattail falls into the pond and Jin Ling’s chest fills with light. He looks up at Lan Sizhui, at his starlight skin shaming the sun, at his soft, downturned lips parted with visible worry, at his raven hair dusting the top of his gentle amethyst eyes.

He hates him.

“May I sit?” Lan Sizhui asks, a sheepish smile on his face.

No, Jin Ling thinks as he looks back down at the pond and scoots over. Lan Sizhui sits next to him and curiously stares down at the koi fish.

“Where’s your entourage?” Jin Ling asks, trying to sound as disinterested as possible.

“Oh,” Lan Sizhui smiles, “I left them with Jingyi at the tea house.”

Jin Ling huffs, his bangs fluttering forward like a curtain. “I can’t tell if that’s a blessing or a curse.”

A soft chuckle escapes Lan Sizhui’s lips, low and sweet like chimes in the wind. Jin Ling draws his knees up to his chest and plants his chin between them, hugging his shins.

He wants him.

“They didn’t seem to mind,” Lan Sizhui assures, “And I was worried about you. I wanted to find you and apologize—“

Jin Ling snaps his head up and stares at him. “Huh? For what?”

“For neglecting you at the tea house,” Lan Sizhui frowns, regret flooding his voice. “I was trying to be polite to the girls, but…” He thinks for a moment then shakes his head. “That’s not an excuse to ignore my friends. I’m sorry.”

Jin Ling wants to keep being angry but his heart betrays him. Because Lan Sizhui is looking directly into his eyes, because his apology is earnest and true, because he’s genuinely afraid he hurt Jin Ling’s feelings.

And he did. He did.

So why can’t Jin Ling stay mad at him? He’s horrified by the words that seem to subconsciously spill out of his mouth. “It’s okay.”

But it’s not okay and they both know it. Lan Sizhui knows it by looking at Jin Ling, and Jin Ling knows it by the way Lan Sizhui makes him feel like his heart’s been thrown into a furnace full of fireworks.

He hates him.

“You talk to a lot of girls,” Jin Ling quietly mumbles, almost hoping Lan Sizhui won’t hear him. “Don’t you like any of them?”

Lan Sizhui’s a bit taken aback by the question but ponders it for a moment before replying, “It’s important to show others courtesy and respect. When someone talks to me, I acknowledge them because it’s the polite thing to do.”

“Lan sect rules?” Jin Ling teases.

Lan Sizhui laughs. “Human rules.”

Jin Ling suddenly wonders if maybe he’s not bad at talking to people. Maybe he’s just bad at being human.

“If you really want to know,” Lan Sizhui starts, “I can’t like someone in… that way if I’ve only just met them. I have to be friends with them first.”

Heat invades Jin Ling’s cheeks and he hugs his knees tighter while recalling Lan Sizhui’s words from earlier: ‘That’s not an excuse to ignore my friends.’

Could he mean…? Maybe…?

Jin Ling mentally curses at himself. Don’t be stupid. “Then… do you like any of your friends?”

You absolute idiot.

Lan Sizhui blushes and Jin Ling can’t look at him because if he looks at him, he’ll crack and say too much and ruin everything and—

“Yes,” Lan Sizhui answers.

He wants him.

“And… and I hope he likes me too.”

He.

The silence between them is deafening, terrifying, revealing. The type of silence words can’t fill but actions can.

It’s too much and Jin Ling caves. He’s looking at him now. Amber eyes burn in the violet reflection of Lan Sizhui’s intense, hopeful stare.

Stupidly…

Their fingers touch and a fire ignites.

Perfect…

Warm breath against skin, time slows down.

Charming…

Their lips meet and the world stops.

Lan Sizhui.

He loves him.

{ 🖤 }

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