#note the house with 4 windows is smaller than the one with 3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewritingrowlet · 1 year ago

Text

The Guardian Angel, ft. ICHILLIN' Joonie

tags: cum-in-mouth, deepthroat, quickie, creampie (both type), anal, rough, daddy kink

word count: 8k+

warning: mention of firearms and depiction of use of firearms; reader discretion is advised.

author's note: I saw this picture of Joonie holding a toy gun and said "fuck it", so here we are. I wanted to get this fic out ASAP so that I could start working on The Outing Trip 3 and the ideas that are currently sitting in my inbox. Joonie is referred to as Junhee in this fic, btw.

“Excuse me, Mr. Director”, Mr. Kang, your chauffeur, calls out to you, waking you up from your peaceful nap, “we have arrived, sir”. “Hngh? We have?”, you say, rubbing your eyes to speed up the process, “can I ask what time this is?”. Mr. Kang looks at his watch, “it is 8:09 pm, sir”. You look outside the window of the car and see that it is dark out there. “Any news about the Guardian Angel, Mr. Kang?”, you ask. “The Angel is in position, sir. I was asked by the Angel to tell you to mind where you stand and not break line of sight—I’d also like to remind you that I’m keeping an eye on you as well, Mr. Director”, Mr. Kang explains as he shows you the gun on his hip. “Thank you, Mr. Kang. Be safe, okay? We can’t afford to lose you. I’ll see you in less than an hour”, you say to him before putting on an earpiece and getting out of the car.

“In case you forgot how you’ve ended up in this situation, let’s do a quick recap”, your brain says before starting. “You, Han Jinwoo, are the founder and director of a handful of companies, one of them being a nickel mining company that mainly operates in a developing country that is known for its messy politics. Over the past few years, you’ve been receiving extreme threats and defamations from people all over the world, including your own countrymen, for, and I quote: ‘destroying both the environment and the people of the country by ways of exploitation for capitalistic greed'. Those threats have led you to getting armored cars and extra security to keep an eye on you in public”. “Thank you for reminding me, brain; that was super helpful”, you say to yourself.

So here you are, standing in front of an empty lot that you’ve bought for an ungodly amount of money. You’re planning to build a new office building so that you can house 2 of your smaller companies here because the rent on the current building is getting ridiculous, and you’re here to meet some architects and engineers to talk about the construction.

Before you get closer to the construction site, you want to make sure that the Angel has eyes on you. You turn around and scan the buildings across the street, hoping that you’ll see the Angel. “Looking for me, director?”, you hear the Guardian Angel say in a calm but serious tone from your earpiece, “you don’t have a sniper scope like I do; you’re not seeing shit, love”. You bring your wrist closer to your mouth and speak softly into the mic, “don’t let me die, okay? I love you”. You don’t hear a reply, but you see flashing lights that spell out “ILY” in morse code. That’s your Guardian Angel, Park Junhee, a spec-ops-turned-private-military who also happens to be your beloved fiancé.

You turn towards the construction site and see some people with hard hats talking among themselves while seemingly waiting for you. “Good evening, ladies and gents. I apologize for being late”, you greet them. “Not at all, Mr. Director. I’d say you’re perfectly on time”, Mrs. Hwang, an architect, says as she shakes your hand. “Can I have a recap of our progress, Mrs. Hwang?”, you ask her. She shows you the site plan and some blueprints and explain to you that they’re planning to build the first 4 floors as soon as the materials arrive and aiming to finish it in 40 days. “Sir, I regret to inform you that the steel beams have been in transport longer than they should’ve been, thus slowing down the progress”, she says, “we have also been seeing protestors gathering here and harassing workers, sir. If I may, Mr. Director, I suggest having security here”. She is correct; while you may not have the cleanest hands and be the kindest businessman around, you certainly don’t want the innocent workers to be harassed or potentially be put in danger. “I’ll contact Nighthaven and see if they can help. Thank you, Mrs. Hwang—anyone else?”, you say.

An engineer asks for your attention, so you turn to him and listen to him. You’re deep into his speech when you hear Junhee warn you, “sir, there’s a man holding a knife running towards your position. Permission to engage, sir.”. “Don’t kill him!”, you yell out, and the people around you look at you in confusion. “Engaging”, Junhee calmly says, and you immediately hear a scream of pain from behind. You and everyone else walk towards the source of the scream and see that there’s a man lying on the ground with a butcher’s knife next to him. To your surprise, the man pulls out a gun and aims it at you, but instead of dying, you hear the man scream again; Junhee has shot him in the arm, forcing him to drop his gun. “Nonlethal, sir, as you asked. Wrap this up quick, please”, Junhee says, and you can hear the worry in her voice.

“I can’t risk losing you, ladies and gents. We’ll meet again at my office tomorrow morning, okay? Scatter, please, and be safe”, you tell Mrs. Hwang and company. Mr. Kang jumps out of the car and opens the door for you, “Mr. Director, get in, please”. “Mr. Kang, call an ambulance and make sure the man gets help, okay?”, you say as you get in the car. Mr. Kang calls his contact as he’s driving to make sure the man can be attended to with no questions asked. “We’re done, Angel—see you at home”, you say to Junhee over the mic. “Yes, sir”, she says.

“I’m home”, you say as you open the door and enter the house. You see that Junhee is pacing back and forth nervously while waiting for you. “There you are”, she says, “are you okay, love?”. “Yes, I am. Thank you for covering me, baby; I would’ve died otherwise”, you tell her before coming in for a hug. “You’re much more than a client to me, love”, she says, her voice shaking from the emotions. “I know, baby. I’m still alive because of you, you know that right?”, you say. Junhee was a spec ops personnel and all that, but considering that you’re her fiancé, she feels way more attached to you. “Please don’t die, love. I don’t know what I would do without you”, she says as her eyes turn to a waterfall. “I’m here for you and will continue to be, love. You’re there for me as well, aren’t you, my Guardian Angel?”, you say. “Why did you ask for non-lethal, though? I-I had perfect line of sight, love”, she asks. “We’ve caught enough flaks, baby; we don’t need more”, you say, pressing your lips on her head. “But you could’ve died!”, she screams, “please don’t die, I’m begging you”.

You let Junhee cry to her heart’s content in your arms for a few minutes while offering words of comfort and assuring her that you’re fine. Junhee breaks the hug and tells you to take off your clothes; “I need to make sure you’re not hurt—not even a scratch”, she says. You do as she says and start by taking off your shirt and trousers, revealing the bulletproof vest underneath; “thank you for listening to me and wearing a vest”, she comments with a smile, “continue, please—wait, actually”. She cuts herself off and runs towards the bedroom, leaving you with only a bulletproof vest and boxers on.

She walks out of the bedroom while singing Happy Birthday and holding a cake, and only now do you remember that it is your birthday. “Did you actually forget that today is your birthday, love?”, she asks. “Time flies, love. I was so occupied with work”, you admit. Junhee tells you to make a wish, so you close your eyes and pray for your and Junhee’s safety and prosperity before blowing the candles. “Hurray, happy birthday, love!”, she excitedly says. “Are we eating that, or?”, you ask. “Later”, she says, putting the cake on the dining table. Junhee begins taking off her Agent 47-esque attire and vest and throwing them to the side before approaching you and helping you take off yours.

She pulls you towards the sofa and tells you to sit down, “I want to suck your cock”. Junhee likes sucking your cock to celebrate both your and her birthdays, so this is nothing new or odd to you. Junhee pulls down your boxers and immediately take you in her mouth. “Oh, so good, baby”, you moan, “always so good to me”. Junhee gives you a wink and go down on your cock until her nose touches your pelvis, making her gag slightly in the process. You throw your head back and pet Junhee’s head as you bask in the sensation of her wet mouth and the sounds she’s making.

You feel your cock twitch in her mouth, and you know Junhee feels it too, proven by how she bobs her head faster on your shaft. “Ah, I’m about to cum, love”, you announce to her. Junhee moves up and leave only your tip in her mouth, ready to accept your cum. With a groan, you finally blow your load and flood her mouth with it. Junhee yelps a little bit when your cum hits her throat when she wasn’t ready, but keeps her lips tight around your cock. She closes her lips after pulling away from your cock before swallowing your cum. “Tasty as usual. Thank you, love”. You shake your head weakly, “no, thank you, love”.

Junhee helps you put your boxers on again before sitting next to you on the sofa. “Love, I want to buy firearms tomorrow”, she says. “Plural, baby?”, you ask her. “I want to sell my handgun, get a new handgun and rifle, and buy some ammo for them”, she explains, “you want to come along? We can practice shooting after”. You rub your chin and think about tomorrow’s agenda, “I have a meeting with the people from earlier so you’ll need to be with me first and then I’ll come with you—can I come with you, though? I’d hate to find out that the gun shop people hate me while I’m there with you”. Junhee laughs at you, “so what? C’mon, love, come with me, please”.

“Good morning, everyone. I apologize for ending the meeting abruptly last night”, you say as you enter the meeting room and see that everyone has come to the meeting, “is everyone okay, by the way?”. Mrs. Hwang answers for the group, “we’re okay, director. With respect, it was you that he wanted, not us”. “That is correct, Mrs. Hwang. Let’s start now, okay?”, you say as you press the button to roll down the blinds. Obviously, they notice Junhee’s presence in the room as she sticks out like sore pretty thumb, but no one dares ask you about her and jump straight to the conversation.

Since you have let the architects come up with the design, the engineers have little trouble following it since nothing is out of the ordinary or defying the laws of physics. Instead, they offer you ways to shave off some expense by “making the construction process less redundant”. You have no idea what this man is talking about, but since he assures you that it won’t compromise with the building’s quality and strength, you decide to agree. “We have received news saying that the steel beams I mentioned last night will arrive in 2 days, director”, Mrs. Hwang says. “Understood, Mrs. Hwang; please make sure we can continue the construction soon”, you say to her with a nod.

The meeting ends after about 40-something minutes, and everyone leaves together as a group, filing one by one out the door. Junhee drops the cold front and approaches you for a kiss. She takes your hands and put them on her tits, encouraging you to play with them. “Your tits are so soft, baby. Are you sure you’re wearing a bra?”, you comment as you juggle and squeeze them. “I’m wearing your favorite sports bra but no vests”, she says, “love, I’m wet; touch me, please”. You press a button to lock the doors and take off your trousers and boxers, “come to me, baby”.

Junhee pulls her trousers and panties down to give your cock access to her pussy. She jumps into your lap and immediately impale herself on your erect cock, letting out a soft moan in the process. “You-you’re filling me up so well, love—ah, hngh”, she says with heavy breaths. You want to cum so bad, so you thrust up and meet her in the middle, “Fuck, I want to cum for you, baby”. Junhee’s heart is palpitating like crazy, “ah-ah-ah—yes-yes, cum for your fiancé, love—ah, fuck—I’m so close, love”.

You keep thrusting up while Junhee keeps going down as the both of you are chasing your own orgasms. “Love, love—oh, please”, Junhee calls out to you, “I’M CUMMING!”. The way her pussy is squeezing your cock forces you to blow at the same time, and nothing beats the feeling of cumming together with your fiancé. Junhee leans forward for a hug, and the two of you stay silent while catching your breaths. “The—hah, God—the cum will drip down if you stand up”, you say to her. Junhee tells you to lay her on the table and get ready to scoop up the leak. Thankfully the leak isn’t too crazy, and she licks it off your hand. “That’s one pew-pew down, wanna move on to the next?”, you ask her. “Ye-yeah, help me put on my pants, please”.

Mr. Kang drops you off in front of the gun shop, and Junhee leads you into it. “Good afternoon!”, Junhee says to the staffs. “Good afternoon to you as well, Miss Park. Can I help you?”, a female staff says. “Yeah, I’m looking to trade this in for a G43X MOS”, she pulls out her handgun and unloads it before putting it on the counter. The staff picks it up and inspects it, “G19, hey? Anything else?”. “No, that’s it—oh, some 9mm ammo, please”, she says. The staff then leaves you two alone and do whatever he needs to for the trade-in. “I thought you were buying a rifle?”, you ask. Junhee shakes her head, “on second thought, I don’t think I need a new one now. The one we have now still works well—you saw it last night”. You have little clue about firearms, but Junhee knows her stuff, so you trust her judgment on the matter.

The staff comes back outside and invites you two to the range to test her new handgun. The staff hands each of you some headset and safety glasses and asks you to put them on. Junhee then hands the gun to you and asks you to load it yourself, “do not put your finger on the trigger unless you’re ready to shoot—you don’t want to kill us, do you?”. You shake your head and take the gun from her hands. “Aim at that target, love”, she says. You’ve shot a gun before (under Junhee’s supervision, obviously), so you know how to unlock the safety switch and get ready to shoot. “I’m ready”, you say to her. “I know they’ve fired this gun multiple times during production to test it, but technically it’s a virgin; take her cherry like you did mine, love”, she says as she steps away from you.

You steady your aim and start firing one bullet at a time until you’ve shot all 10 of them. “Not bad”, Junhee comments, “you missed one, love—that might hit a bystander, you know?”. You apologize for missing, but she rejects it, “you can apologize by getting better, okay? You need to be able to handle a gun well in case I’m not there to protect you. Come, let’s get out of here”.

Junhee leads you to the front and pays for her new pistol and a box of 9mm ammo. “Sorry for being pushy, but is he your client, Miss Park?”, the staff asks. Junhee looks at you and chuckles, “yeah, something like that. Alright, we’re leaving. See you soon!”. You open and hold the door for your fiancé, earning a cute smile from her; “who would’ve thought a girl this cute was spec ops? Looks can really fool you, huh?”, you think to yourself.

“Love, can we go home, or do you need to go back to the office?”, she asks. “We can go home, yeah. We need to talk”, you say, keeping things vague for Junhee. “Oh, um, okay, love”, she says nervously. She tries asking you what you want to talk about, but you wave her off and tell her that she’ll know soon enough. “Excuse me, sir”, Mr. Kang says, “the news of Miss Park’s work last night has broken out. Personally, I would like to commend her for not killing him”. “It was my fiancé’s wish to shoot him in the leg, Mr. Kang; I was just following orders”, Junhee says. “That is good thinking, sir; the public might dislike you, but not killing him will make you look not as bad”, Mr. Kang says. “What do you think if I pay for his medical expenses?”, you ask your fiancé. “Yeah, I guess we can do that. I’ll call someone and have them take care of it”, she says.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about? I’m not in trouble, am I? Please say no, oppa”, Junhee asks as you enter the bedroom with her. Junhee stopped calling you oppa after you two got engaged and nowadays she usually calls you that when she wants something. You laugh at her as you hold her hands, “no, you’re not in trouble, baby; I just wanted to say that I’ve booked a restaurant this weekend for our anniversary”. Junhee falls forward limply into your arms, “aaaah, you scared meeeee—I thought you were going to scold me or something, aaaaah”. “Ahaha no, of course not. Can I ask you to wear a dress, though?”, you say to her. Junhee huffs: she doesn’t like wearing a dress because she can’t keep her gun on her hip, “ugh, fine—please keep in mind that I’m only doing it for you”. You put on a confused face, “if not for me, then who are you dressing up for?”. “Nobody, oppa, I promise”, she says in a low voice, “if it was up to me, I’d not wear anything when I’m with you and just let you do whatever to me”. “One day, baby, okay?”, you peck her forehead.

“Baby, aren’t you hungry? Want to ask the cook to make you something?”, you ask your fiancé. “I’m hungry for your cum”, she says with a naughty smirk, “but honestly, I am. Can we have fettucine, love?”. You ask her to sit on the bed while you call the cook, “good evening, Miss Ahn. Can we have two fettucine alfredo, please?”. You hang up the phone after getting an answer, “she’s making us some right now. Do you want to do anything while we wait?”. Junhee moves to the center of the bed and rests her head on a pillow, “cuddle, please”.

You join her in bed and Junhee rests her head on your shoulder, the rest of her body hugging you from the side. “I love you”, she says. “I love you too, baby”, you answer. “No, no, you must’ve not heard me; I love you”, she repeats with a pout. “I love you more, baby”, you correct yourself. “There you go—wasn’t so hard, was it?”, she pecks you on the cheek after. You hear Junhee yawn, so you pat her on the back softly and encourage her to get a quick shuteye. She’s private military and all that, but deep inside, she’s just a girl who wants to love and be loved—Junhee doesn’t like being referred to as a girl, by the way; “you turned me into a proper woman, oppa—your woman”, she said after her first time.

The buzz from your phone shakes you awake, so you reach over to the bedside table and see the text from Miss Ahn saying that the food is ready. “Junhee, my baby, the food is ready, love”, you poke her in the cheek repeatedly to wake her up. “Hng, carry me, love”, she whines cutely. You carry her on your back and head towards the dining room.

Miss Ahn is waiting for you at the table when you arrive and welcomes you to dinner. “Your dinner is ready, sir and madam”, she says. “Wow, thank you, Miss Ahn. You’re the best!”, Junhee praises Miss Ahn with two thumbs-up and a gleeful smile. Miss Ahn then excuses herself to go home, since it’s almost the end of her working hours.

“Thanks for the meal!”, Junhee exclaims as she picks up some fettucine noodles with a fork and puts it in her mouth, “oh my, delicious as always”. “Apologies, sir”, Miss Ahn returns to the dining room, “your parents sent you a bottle of wine this morning, would you like some as company?”. You see that Junhee also wants some, so you agree to Miss Ahn’s offer and she disappears once again to get the wine and some glasses. “Oooh, a Chateau Margaux”, you say as she brings the bottle to the table. Miss Ahn pours some wine into each of the empty glasses and fills them halfway. “Is that expensive, love?”, Junhee asks. “Yeah, I think so; my mom is a bit of a wine connoisseur, so I’d like to guess that it is”, you tell her. Junhee takes a sip and smacks her lips after, “that’s really good, love”.

You send Miss Ahn away so that she can go home before digging into your fettucine and wine. “This is really good, wow”, you comment. You look at Junhee as you’re chewing and see that she has finished her fettucine. She leans back in her chair and lets out a tiny burp, “oh, sorry, love. It was too fucking good”. “Which one tastes better: the fettucine or my cum?”, you tease her. Junhee’s cheeks are red thanks to you, and she can’t come up with an answer; “you’re not comparing an apple to another apple, though, love; you’re comparing an apple to a banana”, she argues. You shake your head and laugh, “sure, baby, whatever you say”.

“It’s Saturday, isn’t it?”, you think to yourself as you’re waking up in the morning. You look around in the dark and see that Junhee is still in dreamland in your arms. You move her arms and legs softly and set them on the bed so that you can get off and stretch your body.

After stretching, you decide to check out Junhee’s gun shelf in the bedroom. You open the shelf and see an unloaded rifle with a suppressor attached to the end of its barrel and two pistols, presumably Glocks, since Junhee likes them so much. When you look down, you see a bunch of magazines lined up tidily and a few boxes of ammunition. You pick up the rifle and rotate it around to inspect it; “feels like a very solid rifle—what is this big ass scope, though?”, you think to yourself. “Looking for something, love?”, Junhee comments as she wakes up. You put the rifle back in its place, “sorry, baby; I was just curious”. “I’m glad that you’re not scared of them”, she comments, “it’s helpful to not be scared of guns, especially when they’re used to protect you”. You turn your attention back to the shelf, “did you modify these things, baby?”.

Junhee gets off the bed and stands next to you. She grabs the rifle from the rack and shows you what part she’s swapped out, such as trigger, charging handle, and bolt carrier group; “obviously you can see the scope and suppressor”, she says. You can hear the enthusiasm in her voice whenever she’s talking about firearms, and you want to keep going for now. “Can you tell me about the pistols? Are these the MOS thingy?”, you ask. “The right one is, but this one isn’t”, she says as she picks up one of them, “this is a Glock G45 with an Omega 9K suppressor and extended mag—Nighthaven gave me this gun as a parting gift”. Junhee puts it back after inspecting it and closes the shelf, “that’s enough gun talk for today, love. Let’s do something else”. “Such as?”, you ask. “Such as giving me your cum before breakfast”, she bites her lip naughtily.

She asks you to sit on the edge of the bed while getting down on both knees in front of you. You pull your boxers down to help her get what she wants, and she strokes your cock immediately; “do you never get tired of having sex, baby?”, you ask. “How can I get tired of sex when my fiancé has such a perfect cock? Not to mention that you were my first and my only”, she says. You keep your eyes on her as she does your favorite thing: tying her hair into a ponytail, even going as far as bending backwards slightly to show off her tits. “God, you look so hot every time you do that”, you comment.

Junhee unbuttons her pajama top and throws it to the side, her tits now free from their restraints. “Love, I know I’ve asked you this before, but what do you think about my tits?”, she says as she holds them with both hands. “If it was up to me, love, I’d carry you in my arms and just suck your tits all day everyday while my cock is deep in your pussy”, you lick your lips at the thought, “would you let me do that?”. Junhee reaches down and starts touching herself, “oppa, I need you so bad—ah, oh—please, oppa”. You pull Junhee onto your lap, your cock pressing against her stomach while your hands are busy fiddling her nipples, “what’s the password, baby?”. “Ah, nghh—please, daddy”, she says with a moan.

You wanted her to say “love”, but “daddy” works just as well if not better. You lift Junhee up by her thighs and impale her pussy with your cock, earning a loud moan from her. “Daddy—ah, fuck, hng—daddy, I love you—ahhh—I love you so much”, Junhee says between noisy moans. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight”, you praise her as you grit your teeth, “wanna cum for your daddy?”. “Yes, yes, I—AH, FUCK”, Junhee cums as soon as she lets out a scream, and you’re trying your hardest to not bust despite the tight squeeze.

You pull out and ask Junhee to lie on her stomach on the edge of the bed, and unsurprisingly, she obeys right away. You hold your cock and push forward until you feel the warmth of her pussy again—Junhee’s moan is even louder this time, “God, how are you even tighter, baby?”. Junhee screams very loudly at the first contact, seemingly in pain, “tha-that’s my ass, daddy; you-you’re in my ass”. You rub your eyes in disbelief and take a closer look: you are indeed in her ass; “but how did I get in your ass so easily?”, you ask. “I-I’ve been training it, love”, she admits, “I-I wanted to give you my last cherry—ahng, so big, fuck”.

You pull out to process her words, “do you want to say it again?”. Junhee stands up and hugs you, falling limp in your arms like she usually does; “I-I wanted to give you my last cherry, love. That way I’ll be yours entirely”, she says in a weak voice. “But it hurts, no? I don’t want to hurt you, baby”, you say to her. “It did hurt, but it’s only right that I give you my anal cherry”, she says, “please, let me be selfish this one time”. You ask her once again and you’re met with her unwavering determination, so you decide to play along.

Junhee returns to her previous position on the edge of the bed and spreads her cheeks for you, “please, daddy, grant me my wish; I want to be yours enti—FUCK, GENTLY, DADDY”. Your cock is halfway in her ass when she screams it out, “God, baby, you’re so tight”. “Ah-ah-ah—I’m yours, daddy. I’m yours—oh, fuck”, she chants as you fuck her ass at a slow tempo. Once you feel like her rear muscles has relaxed and is stretched enough to accommodate your girth somewhat comfortably, you start fucking her faster. Junhee screams as she feels the increased pace, “YES, YES, I’M YOURS, DADDY”. Her loud chants rile you up even more, and you quietly wish that a household assistant doesn’t happen to be outside the bedroom right now.

The tightness of her ass is different than her pussy’s, and you feel like it’s trying to milk your cum out of your cock. “Baby, I’m about to bust”, you announce to her with a groan. “FUCK, YES, GIVE IT TO ME—GIVE IT TO ME IN THE ASS”, she yells, straining her voice cord—you hope that she won’t lose her voice after this and promise yourself that you’ll give her some water. “AH, FUCK”, you scream out as you release your load in her ass for the first time ever, and you feel splashes on your thighs—Junhee is squirting from anal sex, isn’t that crazy?

You try to pull out, but Junhee tells you to stay inside. “It’s so hot, daddy”, she says, “now I belong to you entirely”. You bend forward and peck her on the nape, “thank you, baby. It was an honor to be your first. I love you, darling”. Junhee then asks you to pull out, citing the pain from the stretch, so you do as she asks and inspect the result of your work. Your cum is dripping out of her gaped asshole that is trying its hardest to return to its original shape. You keep an eye on it until it closes perfectly, and pecks Junhee in the ass, making her gasp in surprise. “Did you like it, daddy?”, she asks. You pull her into a hug before answering, “yes, baby, I liked it a lot. Thank you so much”. “I’m yours now, daddy—like, yours yours, you know?”, Junhee says before pecking you in the cheek. “I know you mean well, but you’re not my property, love”, you say with a smile, “I love you, baby”. “But you get what I mean, right? I’ll do whatever for you, daddy”, she says. You chuckle at her words, “can you eat well and stay healthy for me, love?”. “Aaaaah, you’re not cooperating with meeeeee”, she whines, “you’re so lucky I love you”. You hold her head with both hands, “I know, baby; I’m grateful for you every single day”. Your sweet words make Junhee blush, “I-I’m grateful for you as well, love. I can’t thank you enough for the love you’re showering me with”.

It is now 2 hours before you need to leave for dinner. You’ve been busy looking for clothes in the walk-in closet, even going as far as asking Mr. Kang for ideas; “I suggest a white shirt, a three-piece suit in navy-blue, and an orange striped tie, sir”, he said over the phone earlier; his love for those colors is second to none. “I’ll go along with your idea today, Mr. Kang”, you say to yourself. You fetch an orange tie from the shelf and a navy-blue three-piece suit that is tidily kept in cover bag. After putting them on, you grab a box of shoes and head towards the bedroom to check on Junhee.

“Baby”, you knock on the bedroom door, “have you chosen a dress yet?”. Junhee opens the door and walks out, and your jaw drops to the floor right away; she has put on a very fancy white dress and has a matching handbag in her hands. “Dear Lord, you’re so beautiful”, you comment as your eyes roam all over her body from head to toe. “You remember this dress, don’t you?”, she asks—how can you not remember? You gave her that dress as a gift after establishing the first mine under OreQuest Co. last year. You take her hand and peck it, “I can’t wait to get married to you, baby. I love you so much”. “I can’t wait to get married to you, love. I love you more”, she says with a lovely smile, copying your line.

Mr. Kang greets you as you and Junhee walk towards the row of cars, “looking sharp, sir and madam—I see that you’ve agreed to my suggestion, sir”. You shake his hand in appreciation, “I trust your sense of fashion, Mr. Kang. I must say it’s very on-point”. Mr. Kang accepts your thanks with a smile, “may I know which car we’re taking, sir?”. You look around your collection of expensive cars, “can we take the Ghost? That’s armored too, right?”. “It is, sir, just not as thick as the Cadillac”, he says, “please, have a seat”. You open a door for Junhee before getting in yourself, followed by Mr. Kang. “The Sapphire, please, Mr. Kang”, you say to him. Mr. Kang turns on the car and starts driving out of the garage, “certainly, sir”.

During the ride, Junhee pulls out her trusty G45 from her handbag and puts it in the compartment in the center of the seat, “I’ll be unarmed tonight, Mr. Kang; we’re relying on you”. “Understood, madam. Speaking of which, I have an AR-15 in this bag next to me as well”, he says. “Is that a 16-inch, Mr. Kang?”, Junhee asks as she takes a peek. “11-and-a-half, madam; I recently came up with a new build and have been training with it”, Mr. Kang explains. Mr. Kang used to be Junhee’s subordinate during her Nighthaven days, and she was the one who convinced you to hire him as a chauffeur. “You’ve always been the creative one, Mr. Kang—I’ll need a list of the parts you used for it, by the way”, she praises him.

Mr. Kang drops you off in front of The Sapphire and opens the door for you with a press of a button. “Director Han”, a staff greets you at the door with a polite bow, “your reservation is ready, sir. Kindly follow me, please”. You hold Junhee’s hand as you follow the staff to your table, secluded from the rest of the visitors. You pull out some money from Junhee’s handbag (since you don’t carry much cash) and hand it to him, “thank you for your help”. “Thank you for the visit, director. Your appetizers will come out soon. Have a good night, sir and madam”, the staff bows again and walks away with a smile. “How did he know that you’re a director, love?”, Junhee asks. You chuckle at her question, “I mean, almost everyone does, whether they hate me or not. Not to mention that The Sapphire’s owners have been good friends with my parents since I was a kid”.

A waiter sets some plates with fancy food on your table while another pours some wine into the glasses. “How long is this dinner, by the way, love?”, Junhee asks as she eyes the food. “9 courses, I think”, you answer her and turn to the waiters and one of them gives you a nod, “yes, 9 courses. Thank you very much, we will be enjoying this”. You lift a glass of wine for a toast, “to us, baby, until the end of time”. Junhee lifts her glass and clinks it with yours, “to us, love, until the end of time”.

“Here’s your final course, sir and madam”, the waiter says. “Ah, the last one already?”, you comment, “where has time gone, baby?”. Junhee smiles at you oh-so-warmly, “time flies like a fighter jet when you spend it by talking and laughing with those you love, honey”. Truer words have never been said before and they make you realize how blessed you’ve been throughout your life; “I love you so, so much, baby, but I can’t come up with the words to express myself”, you say with glassy eyes, “I want to get you a gift right now—you know, like a symbol”. “You are my gift, honey—one that never stops giving”, she says with teary eyes as well.

You walk out of the restaurant hand-in-hand with Junhee and head towards the car. You open the passenger door and ask Junhee to enter first. You hear a commotion from your left, but initially pay no attention to it and keep minding your business. That is, until the source of the commotion, a man who has a shirt with your face crossed out, appears from around the corner and aims his gun at you. You scream in pain when you feel hot lead hit your left shoulder, and Junhee screams in panic and pulls you into the car. Mr. Kang gets ready to jump out and shoot back, but you tell him no; “don’t, Mr. Kang—just get us out, please”, you say before grunting from the pain.

Mr. Kang plants his foot on the gas and speeds away to get some help for you, and you hear some more shots land on the car. “Love, love”, Junhee calls out to you as tears flow down her cheeks, “stay with me, stay with me, please. Faster, Mr. Kang!”. Your eyelids feel like they weigh a quintal, and you feel powerless to keep them open.

You’re lying flat on your back with a bright light shining right in your eyes, and you wonder if you died and is seeing God right now. “God, please protect my fiancé; watch over her and bless her like you’ve blessed me”, you mutter to yourself. “Oppa! Oppa!”, you hear Junhee’s voice coming from God-knows-where, and you can’t help but shed tears. “I’m so sorry for breaking your heart, love. I never meant it to end like this. I love you, baby”, you say to yourself.

A higher power places your soul back into your body as if telling you that this isn’t over yet, and you jolt as if you were electrocuted. You look to your right and see Junhee sitting on a chair next to you: she’s crying her heart out with her hands on her face. “Junhee-yah”, you weakly call out to her, and she gasps in shock before rushing to you. “Love! Love, you’re awake—oh God, thank you—thank you so much”, she says in tears, “I’m so sorry, love. I-I was supposed to protect you. Oh, God, I failed you”. You try to sit, but Junhee holds you down, “no-no-no, please, just lay down. You’re safe here; Mr. Kang is guarding the door”. You wipe her tears with your thumb, “are you okay, baby? Are you hurt?”. Junhee shakes her head as she presses your hand against her cheek, “I-I’m fine, love”. You show her a gentle smile, “then you didn’t fail anyone, love; this is simply an accident”.

You take a good look around the room and the IV drip and heart monitor tell you that you’re at a hospital. “Thank you for bringing me here, love”, you tell Junhee, “I hope no one gave you trouble”. Junhee exhales deeply before answering, “this hospital is secretly owned and run by Nighthaven; they don't ask questions”. You suddenly feel a sharp pain in your shoulder area, and you let out a grunt because of it; “do you know where he hit me?”, you ask her. “Somewhere here”, she points at her own shoulder, under the collarbone, “the bullet is still sitting in your body, by the way—it’s fine, though, you’ll live”.

Junhee sits back down in her chair and texts Mr. Kang and your parents, telling them that you’re alive and well—minus the bullet wound. You chuckle while looking at her, “I was about to ask if you’re hungry, but we literally just had dinner”. Junhee pecks you in the cheek, “I haven’t even thanked you for taking me to dinner—thank you, love”. Since you can’t sit and peck her back, you opt to peck her hand instead, “happy anniversary, baby”. “Happy anniversary, oppa”, she replies with a merry smile.

You’re cleared to go home after spending 3 days in the hospital, and you finally see Mr. Kang since the shooting as you’re walking to the car. “Director, pleased to see you again”, he says with a bow, “my apologies for not reacting in time, sir”. You pat him on the back, “it’s fine, Mr. Kang. As long as no one else got hurt, I’m content with it”. He nods and smiles, “one more thing, sir; your secretary received a message from your parents saying that they’re inviting you to dinner on the 21st”. “Dinner, Mr. Kang? Did they forget what just happened?”, you let out an amused chuckle. “The dinner will be at their house, sir, and your fiancé has arranged for Nighthaven to guard the area—she might not be one of them anymore, but she’s still the highly-respected Head of Personnel Development in their eyes”, he explains. “Aaaah, I want to go hoooome”, Junhee whines, “love, please; can we not go home already?”. “You heard the lady, Mr. Kang; let’s go home”, you say to him.

Junhee drags you to the bedroom and asks you to sit on the edge of the bed, presumably because she desperately wants your cock after spending a few days without sex. “Are you that horny, baby?”, you ask Junhee, who is seemingly in a rush to strip. “You have no idea”, she says, “I would’ve sucked your cock and have you cum in me that night if it wasn’t for that fucking bastard”. She turns away from you and holds your cock as she lowers herself, “I want it in my ass, daddy—can I have it in my ass, please?”. You both know that your cock and her asshole are dry, but you don’t want to ruin Junhee’s mood, so you let her do what she wants and agree to fuck her ass again.

Hearing your approval, she starts lowering her butt until your tip is at her entrance. Once she manages to get the tip in, you pull her down roughly and fill her ass with your entire shaft. She throws her head back and screams, “ah-ah—daddy, so full—ah-ah, yes”. You then yank her hair and ask her where your cock is; “it-it’s in my ass, daddy—FUCK, YES, PLEASE”, she answers with a scream because you’re getting impatient with the slow pace and thrust up into her ass.

You feel tired after a few minutes, so you pull out and ask her to get on her hands and knees on the bed. Junhee’s arms become limp as you’re fucking her from behind, causing her to drop her torso onto the bed. You spank her multiple times as you’re fucking her ass hard and fast, making Junhee scream both in pain and pleasure. “Daddy, daddy, yes—fuck, yes—do me, daddy”, she chants repeatedly. “I hope you like it rough”, you say to her as you plant your feet on the bed to get a better posture to fuck her.

You finally blow your load in her ass with a groan, but unlike last time, Junhee isn’t squirting. She also doesn’t resist when you pull out, choosing to drop her ass flat onto the bed due to exhaustion. “You were so rough, daddy; I don’t think I’ll be able to walk after this”, she comments with heavy breaths. “I’m so sorry, love. You made me really horny, and I went off the rails”, you apologize as you pat her back gently.

You roll Junhee onto her back and cuddle her, “I know I technically didn’t go anywhere, but I’ve missed you so much, baby”. Junhee steals a peck from your cheek, “I’ve missed you too, love. I’m so glad you’re okay now”. You glance at the clock hanging on the wall and see that you still have a lot of time until bedtime, “love, are we ready to call it a night or do you have other ideas?”. She gathers her might and straddles your thighs, “you haven’t filled my pussy, love; one more round, please? I want you to make me sore”.

Her words arouse you, and you feel your cock hardening again instantly after hearing that you’ll be doing another round. Junhee holds your cock in one hand and starts stroking it, “always so hard for me, aren’t you? I love it”. You close your eyes and enjoy the handjob she’s giving you. That is, until she asks for your attention; “eyes on me, love”, she says with a smile. You look at Junhee in the eyes, and she immediately stuff herself with your cock. “Fuck, the size catches me off guard every single time”, she says before taking the entirety of your cock in her pussy, “oh, fuck, so full again”.

You don’t want to miss out on Junhee’s heavenly soft moans, so you pull her down and keep her in your arms while her hips are busy going up and down your cock at a relaxed tempo. “Moan for me, love; you know how much I love the sound”, you say to her. Junhee nibbles your ear before moaning right into your ears. “Ah-ah—honey, I love you so much”, she says softly into your ears, “everything about you is just perfect, honey—take me, honey, yes”. You want to reply to her with your own words, but your low voice doesn’t sound as sexy as hers, so you decide to do something else. You latch your lips on her neck and start sucking and nibbling, feeling keen on planting hickeys on her pale skin. “Yes, mark me, love—I’ll show them who I belong to”, Junhee eggs you on. With her encouragement, you suck on her neck harder until it’s red.

Rough sex is fun and all, but nothing beats slow romantic sex with very minimal profanity, as you’re able to rejoice in the sensations and show your significant other how much you love them, just like how you and Junhee are doing it right now. “My love, I want to cum with you”, she says softly between moans. “Kiss me, baby”, you say to her as you guide her chin towards you. Junhee plants her lips on yours and starts kissing you lovingly and passionately, adding a bit of tongue wrestling on top of it. Junhee breaks the kiss to deliver some news, “I’m so close, my love. Please, please finish with me”.

Orgasm is finally at the door again after what felt like half an hour, and your cock twitches in Junhee’s pussy. “Yes, love, give it to—OH, GOD”, Junhee cuts herself off and yelps as she reaches her peak. You follow closely behind her and blow your load inside her pussy. Junhee kisses you again as she rides her high, only breaking it after it passes. “I love you so much, honey”, she says. “How much?”, you say with a teasing smile. Junhee straightens her posture and makes a big circle with her hands, “thiiiiis much”. You laugh at her antic, “I love you more, baby”.

There are stray strands of hair all over her face, so you do your best to tidy them up for her. She lies on your body after you’re done, “thank you for everything, love”. “You’re welcome, baby. Thank you”, you reply to her, “you want to let me out, or no?”. “No, let’s just stay like this until tomorrow, that way I’ll be able to ride you first thing in the morning—would you consent to that, by the way?”, she says. You smile at her, “of course; it’s not like you’ll cut my penis off when I’m asleep, is it? What makes you want me to stay inside, though?”.

She plants her hands on your chest and looks at you, “I don’t know if other men’s penis does this, but yours doesn’t shrink; you’re just limp—you’re very big, by the way, if you haven’t noticed already. I’d love to keep your penis in my mouth or vagina all day long if it was up to me”. You laugh at her words, “it feels like you’d do a lot of things if it was up to you”. She slaps your chest playfully before resting on your body again, “I really want to be naked all day and let you do what you want to me, though”. “What about the household assistants, love? You don’t want them to see you run around the house naked, do you?”, you ask. “Oh, you’re right”, she says as the gears in her head turn, “we can give them a day off, no? That way the house will be empty. Please say yes, love”. You smile and shake your head in amusement, “sure, baby. Just tell me when, okay?”.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #ichillin smut #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader smut #male reader

158 notes · View notes

bluecanvasshoe · 6 months ago

Text

Time and Place - EEAIETIF

Chapter 3 of Everything Eats and is Eaten (Time is Fed)

Red Dead Redemption x teen!fem!reader

Summary: The journey to Saint Denis is a lonely, daunting task. But the world really isn't as big as it seems, and maybe this is only the start of a long trip down old roads.

Warnings: descriptions of panic attacks, big cat jumps u, talk of guns

A/N: This chapter is a little short, i will admit, but i had trouble writing this one. However, this one is still important to the plot!!! i'm excited for the next though! stay tuned!!

and thank god in the most atheist way possible for the ability to write in html on posts. i would not have survived without it

this is PLATONIC! :D

Word count: 2.3k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna join! :)

-----

It was late at night, the stars having come out and the moon shining bright, outdoing the stars’ brilliance.

You slipped out of bed, dressed in two layers of clothes to minimize the amount of things you needed to store in your old, patched-up bag. Holding your breath, you listened for anyone outside of your room.

It was quiet. The house creaked occasionally, and crickets chirped outside, but it was quiet.

Standing up cautiously, you pursed your lips as you prayed the floorboards wouldn’t creak obnoxiously loud. They thankfully didn’t, allowing you to tiptoe towards your bag. It had been hidden underneath your splintered, wooden wardrobe, packed with bare-minimum necessities.

Slinging it over your shoulders, you shuffled to the door of your bedroom and twisted the handle. Taking one last look at the bedroom you’d had for years so far, you realized that this would likely be the last time you’d be in this godforsaken house.

The bed was unmade, the window open to allow the breeze in. Shadows of tree branches were cast on the low ceiling, the room bathed in a dark blue light. It was peaceful. Your life was peaceful. Nightmares would plague you regularly, but farm life in a quiet, field-filled area would calm your nerves. Meals were assured, and you were never alone and left to drown in your thoughts often. There weren’t many people to talk to, and you hadn’t had a nervous fit in some time.

Were you ready to leave?

Was chasing a ‘maybe’ worth it?

It was a thought that you neglected to mull over, considering the fact that you gave yourself an afternoon to crack a plan on how to get out of your new home. But you figured that it’d be time to leave home soon enough, as you were, responsibility-wise, more than capable of living alone and old enough anyways.

Sighing, you pushed down any feelings of uncertainty and anxiousness.

You turned, closing the door gently and taking a deep, quiet breath. The stairs, a formidable enemy, now stood before you and freedom. A hand on the banister, you walked down with caution, dodging floorboards you knew would groan under your weight. One screeched underneath you, and you froze.

Anne was a light sleeper; she said she became one after beginning to take in foster kids, whatever that meant. There had been many times when you would attempt to slip out undetected, only to be jumpscared by a sleep-ridden Anne with a disappointed look on her face. The surprisingly big rats you lived with, or your supposed brothers, had also been the cause of Anne’s lack of sleep.

However, seconds passed… and nothing happened. Breathing a sigh of relief, you continued down the staircase and approached the backdoor. You fished a note out of the pocket of your bottoms, unfolding it and giving the letter a quick once-over before placing it on the dining table.

A closet stood to your left, the key to it in your pocket. You slowly walked towards it, pulling out the small metal tool before raising it to the closet door’s lock. Inserting it, you twisted the handle of the key before carefully opening the well-oiled door, a contrast to the neglected hinges of the rest of the house. Inside hung an array of guns, from hunting rifles for smaller game to a shotgun with rib-breaking knockback.

Reaching in, you grabbed a hunting rifle, extra ammo, gun oil, and a brush. David would notice a gun of his was gone; he always noticed. He noticed if one was tampered with, he noticed if one was ever so slightly askew from their normal positions, and he sure as hell would notice if one was missing. But when was the last time he used a hunting rifle, anyways? It won’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.

You closed the closet’s door, locking it before walking back over to the dining table to place the key on the note.

Finally, you reached the back entrance and pulled the door open. The breeze hit your face, the scent of spring carried in the night’s air. The outside was pitch black, but these parts were known for the quiet, lawful community, so there wasn’t a need for fear despite the nagging feeling in your chest.

You stepped out of the house, closing the door behind you as quietly as possible. You crouched down, grabbing your working boots before pulling them on and lacing them up with practiced ease. Going over a list in your head, you triple-checked your memory to make sure you’d grabbed everything you needed before setting off to the ranch’s stables.

Most horses owned by your foster family were shires, as things like hay or products to be sold often needed to be transported to and from the ranch. Thankfully, there were a few horses used simply for riding, though there was one in particular that you had taken a liking to. He was fast enough and had good endurance, a reliable horse to be out on the road with.

You tacked him up, mulling over your reckless decisions once again, and finally got out onto the road.

—

The first word you’d use to describe the journey to Saint Denis would be one thing: eerie.

You see, where your foster home was situated sat a few miles west from the Grizzlies. That, of course, was out of the picture. A snowy, mountainous wasteland was hopeless and risky to go through alone.

So, you opted to cut through West Elizabeth.

But the crevices and corners of this place held strange secrets that made you afraid of nighttime. The only thing that comforted you in the dead of night was the fact that your horse was incredibly easy to spook and therefore would make some sort of noise if there was something amiss. Nevertheless, the fear persisted.

And to add to your fear of the night in general, the feeling of being a teenager, on the run and alone in relatively unknown territory was terrifying. Not knowing what to do, where to go, or if your decision would derail your life was a daunting thought. You were in such a big space, nothing in each direction, no way of finding anything; not the right path, not a helpful stranger, hell, not even yourself in the midst of this void-on-earth. You have never been in this situation before, nor do you know anyone who has. A feeling of doom has plagued you for far too long.

But maybe the nothingness was okay, because the silence that came with less and less interaction cleared your mind, allowed you to think for once in years. You forgot how much alone time helped.

–

Birds chirped and foxes yowled as you trudged your way through the dirt paths of West Elizabeth. During the day, and especially the morning, it was peaceful.

The sun had risen not long ago, and its rays were still golden and rich. Dark, green pines riddled with budding pine cones were doused in the light, casting soft shadows and highlighting the hidden shades of light green within their needles. Bushes, shrubs, weeds, and flowers swayed softly, the sound of leaves creating a cacophony of nature and highlighting the silence of the morning.

Your horse trudged on at a slow pace, rocking you back and forth in a repetitive motion.

A few minutes went by of map checking and endless, tree-filled nothingness when the borderline unnatural growl of a cougar was heard. The horse beneath you immediately went into flight mode, rearing and causing you to fall from your spot on its back.

You hit the ground with a thump, the wind being knocked from your chest as panic and adrenaline coursed through your veins.

You reached for the hunting rifle you nicked from David’s collection on your back, only to find nothing there. You panicked and watched as the beige, human-sized mountain lion spotted oh-so-vulnerable you, getting ready to pounce with a guttural growl. Your vision grew white and fuzzy, the wildcat looking closer than it actually was, the trees caving in on you.

It jerked to the left, letting out a piercing yowl as one of its back legs gave out. A muffled bang, and then it stumbled before turning its attention to a figure. Your vision cleared the slightest bit, and your panic-muddled brain recognized the shape of a man holding a shotgun.

The next few moments felt like a dream, your head dizzy and eyes perpetually unfocused. The hard, rough gravel beneath you grounded your thoughts as rocks dug into your hands that held your body up.

Then, a hand was put in front of your face.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Hello? I’m—“ An older man’s voice came from above you, causing you to crane your head up towards him. He had a scruffy beard and a brimmed hat, his skin tanned and freckled from the sun. His clothes were obviously patched up in a few places, a shotgun held in his free hand.

You took his hand hesitantly, looking up at him with slight confusion as you stood.

“Where’s my horse?” you asked, looking past his shoulder and seeing nothing.

The man scoffed, “I just saved your goddamn life, and you thank me like that?” He had a bushy eyebrow raised, his expression one of slight annoyance.

Your eyebrows raised as your focus went back to the heroic stranger in front of you. “Of course, I—thank you, sir, I didn’t mean to offend—” “Kid, are you serious?” he laughed. “I was joking. Jesus, you got a stick up your ass or somethin’?" He grinned, stepping away and adjusting the hat on his head.

“He ain’t far; don’t worry. I’ll get him for ya, let you regain your senses and whatnot.” He turned before you could protest, leaving you standing there, incredibly confused as you watched his retreating figure.

Sighing, you busied yourself with dusting off your clothes and taking a breath. Though the cougar was long dead, you were still afraid of another wild animal jumping out at you, but this time, you wouldn’t have the safety of the hunter. Your mind cleared, and you decided to listen to the birds chirping to busy your mind as the adrenaline wore off.

You looked up from your absentminded staring when the sound of gravel under worn boots was followed by languid hoofbeats further ahead. The man was walking towards you, a slight limp in his step you hadn’t noticed before.

“Here he is,” the man said, meeting you halfway as you approached him and your horse. “Got some bad news, though… Looks like your bedroll fell off when he was runnin’. He must’ve kicked it or somethin’, ‘cause it’s pretty damn torn up.” The older man handed back the reins of your not-so-trusty steed. You accepted them into your hands, a palm tentatively brushing down the horse's nose and resting on his neck.

You whispered a curse under your breath, pursing your lips.

“That’s… That ain’t too good. Thanks for tellin’ me, sir. I'll be off if you don’t need any kind of payment—” “Payment?” He interrupted, chuckling as he shook his head. “Jesus Christ. Loosen up, kid. And we still say the youth are too laid back.”

You didn’t know how to reply.

“Uh, I—” “Listen, I’ve got a friend back at the Hanging Dog Ranch. You heard of it?” You listened with slight annoyance, sharing a one-sided, exasperated glance with your horse.

“No, I’m not really from around—” “Well, it’s a nice place.” Oh. My. God.

You decided to let him speak, seeing as he just couldn’t let you get a word in no matter what.

“I can ask him if he’s got an extra bedroll or something. Mind givin’ me a ride?” He gestured to the horse, and you inwardly groaned.

“Yeah, of course.” You sighed, walking around to the side of the animal before stepping up and onto him with practiced ease. Getting yourself settled into the stiff saddle, you turned him around to help get the older man up. Extending a calloused hand that was grabbed by his, you helped pull him up behind you.

“Oh, and uh, by the way, my name’s Guy.”

Of course.

–

After a myriad of confusing instructions that went along the lines of, ”Go right. No, wait, no, go left. Actually… yeah, yeah, go right,” the two of you had finally made it to the incredibly scenic ranch. Purple beds of lavender flourished before it, small streams of water separating the full and healthy grass. Deer grazed in pairs or small groups, their heads lifting and regarding you, your horse, and the awfully chatty stranger behind you.

Stopping at the ranch, the man went on about his long-winded past with the owner and his family. “You see, we met at an auction. It smelled like shit, and that’s about all I remember from it, other than—” “Yeah, that’s… uh-huh, sounds real interesting.” You nodded, stepping down and onto the ground beneath you, tying the reins of your now very dusty steed onto a hitching post just outside the ranch’s gates.

Helping the old man off, the two of you set off to the larger house that overlooked the rest of the ranch’s buildings. “You stay here. I’ll go talk to the old bastard.” Guy said, holding the back of his right hip as he turned and walked off, his boots squelching in the mud of the path.

You absorbed yourself in the scenery when a familiar face rounded a corner.

You were looking for Charles Smith. You’d be happy with just Charles Smith.

So why is John Marston here?

Your eyes widened, mouth agape, as you watched him narrow his eyes, looking at you with slight familiarity before it clicked. He looked the same as ever, but his hair was a bit shorter, and his clothes were more civilian, ranch hand-like than they were outlaw.

“No way,” you saw him mouth, dropping the mallet he held and jogging towards you.

You couldn't move, standing there with wide eyes.

“Kid?”

TAGLIST!!!

@gallantys

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #platonic rdr2 x reader #platonic x reader #charles smith rdr2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #john marston #john marston rdr2 #john marston x reader #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 community #red dead redemption community #rdr2 john #rdr2 john marston #blue’s RDR2 fics

51 notes · View notes

onepiecereactions · 4 months ago

Text

Painting the sky Chapter 1

Note: Smoker X Reader. Chapter 1 on 7.

This chapter is SFW.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (4bis)

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Painting the sky. Day 1

Smoker wandered aournd the streets of the small town with an angry face, his eternal cigars between his lips.

He hated taking vacations. But Headquarters ordered him to every year.

The vice-admiral had then developed a whole plan thanks to Tashigi's precious help to reduce his days of absence as much as possible.

His plan consisted in taking his break at the same time as Captain Tashigi to minimize the consequences of their absence. This obviously had nothing to do with the fact that the smoke man was incapable of filling out a report worthy of the name without the help of the brunette. She had also taken the habit of taking a few days of vacation during her birthday, on October 6, to be able to see her family in East Blue and enjoy the festivities.

A small ritual had then been created between the two soldiers: the woman would go spend some time with her family and he would put his suitcases down on an island in South Blue to be able to relax for a few days, impatiently waiting for the swordswoman to return so he could set foot in New Marineford again.

This is how Smoker found himself, for yet another year, walking the streets of a city he didn't care about at all, on an island whose name he didn't even know, his furrowed brow.

"Hoï, the man with the grey hairs !" A man in his fifties addressed the vice-admiral in a hoarse voice soaked in alcohol.

"You look like a pirate! I sell most of my beautiful treasure maps to guys like you! You are one hundred percent sure to find a fabulous treasure with my maps, guaranteed satisfied or your money back!" He screamed, gesturing wildly to the soldier to get him to come closer to his business.

Smoker looked at him with disdain from the moment he compared him to a pirate. Sure, he was dressed in civilian clothes and not really known to most of the world's population, but still...

He didn't bother to answer and walked away, continuing his walk, turning into one of the streets perpendicular to the old market square. The vice-admiral glanced at his watch and sighed. He had the feeling that time stretched out endlessly every time he was on leave. These few days seemed like entire weeks away from New Marineford.

"Watch out, old man!" Another man, much smaller than him, cut him off with his cart loaded with crates where hungry-looking chickens were piled up.

Smoker felt his anger rising, the temptation to immediately return to his guest room and hide there for the rest of his trip was becoming dangerously tempting.

However, he remembered his colleague's precious advice each time they went on vacation: "Vice-Admiral, take advantage of it to rest and enjoy human warmth!".

"I'll give you some human warmth." He growled as he turned around, heading for his room. He passed several civilians who seemed to recognize him but kept their distance. As he caught sight of the island's post office, he spotted a small shop in the distance, between two houses. The storefront was discreet, even neglected, and only allowed a single line to be seen on the window.

"Coco Art Gallery."

As he passed the store, his attention was caught by a dozen notebooks stored in the storefront. Their cover was bound with finesse and elegance, gold threads connecting the pages at their heart. Again, the captain's face reappeared in the vice-admiral's mind.

When the two colleagues went on leave, Smoker had taken the habit of bringing her back from his trip a birthday present. Nothing very exuberant but Tashigi knew that this gift had been the result of hard and long reflection from the vice-admiral who was really not talented for human relations.

He glanced at the window but did not distinguish any silhouette inside. He tried to enter anyway and pushed the door which was not locked.

He entered a long room, the floor covered with old and damaged parquet, the walls painted in a deep bottle green that highlighted the various paintings hanging on the wall. A small bell rang as the door closed delicately behind him.

The Vice Admiral was so taken aback by the interior of the room that he nearly dropped his cigars. The works were breathtakingly beautiful, even for a man like him who knew little about art.

He moved closer to the first painting on his right and examined it for a long time. The work depicted a gigantic three-masted sailing ship caught in the torpor of a rough ocean, the waves as black as night. In the background, the reassuring light of the island's lighthouse was visible while barely perceptible hostile shadows danced dangerously beneath the ship. As he got closer, Smoker was surprised by the details. The faces of the sailors on board were painted with fear and anguish.

Smoker took his gaze away from the painting and walked into the room. A counter with a cash register stood opposite to the entrance. The walls, several meters high, were covered with titanic paintings. Other works had been piled up on the floor, there was certainly no more room to hang them.

The vice-admiral, hearing no one, continued his contemplation of the wall to his right. Three small paintings, barely larger than his hand, told the story of peasants hurt by cold and hunger in the fields of corn on what seemed to be a winter island in the North Blue. The emotions of the characters were striking, each feature of their faces perfectly painted, even if they were so small.

"Hello, can I help you?"

A woman, smaller than the vice-admiral, walked between the paintings on the floor to get closer to him, taking him out of his contemplation.

He inspected her quickly. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, paint stains covering part of her casual outfit, a few brushes were hanging from her belt. Her smile was warm and a sort of soothing calm emanated from her.

He greeted her respectfully even though she seemed to be slightly younger than him.

" I'm looking for a gift for my... friend..." He began.

Being naturally suspicious, even towards civilians, the vice admiral always made sure to never give away too much information about his activities, especially when he was in civilian clothes.

"Yes, of course! Did you have anything in particular in mind?" She asked as she turned back to the counter.

"I saw your notebooks. She's the type to take a lot of notes for her work so I think these could be useful to her."

"Oh, very good idea!" She slipped through the paintings to lean over the display case where she grabbed the various notebooks stored there. She then lined them up on the counter and let the man examine them.

"They are beautiful. Where did you find them?" Smoker hesitated between two notebooks decorated with gilding and thin painted details.

"All the works you see in this gallery are my creation!"

Smoker lost one of his cigars which silently crashed on the parquet floor. He turned around and contemplated the room a little more seriously. There must have been about thirty paintings on the walls, at least as many on the floor and about twenty notebooks. He saw behind the counter a discreet door that must have led to a workshop.

"You are talented..." He admitted as he put a new cigar between his lips.

"This gallery is non-smoking please, I fear that the smoke will alter the colors of some paintings." She asked her elder respectfully.

The vice-admiral nodded gently in apology and immediately put down his cigars.

"I'll take this one." He continued, handing her one of the notebooks.

"The Rosemarie, very good choice!" She replied with a smile as she made the transaction at the cash register.

"Your friend will be delighted." She finished with a slight wink, a childish smile on her lips, emphasizing the term "friend".

Smoker felt embarrassment rise to his cheeks. He was always uncomfortable when someone mentioned his relationship with the swordswoman in such a way.

"No, it's not... Anyway, thanks." Destabilized, Smoker quickly turned away and left the gallery, his eternal grumpy look on his face.

"Vice Admiral Smoker, you forgot the notebook!" The woman had chased him in his escape and her voice had echoed throughout the street. Passersby had all turned around as he walked away, speaking in low voices.

Angry that his anonymity was disappearing on the first day of his vacation, the vice admiral turned around grumbling, mumbling a vague "thank you" that seemed insincere, took the notebook from the artist who gave him her most beautiful smile that he found particularly annoying and left at full speed to take refuge in the calm of his guest room.

#one piece

9 notes · View notes

rayrayor · 2 years ago

Text

So Lily is ready to move in to her dorm and just to get to know her roommate. But Milkovich and Gallagher family members have Gracie and her moms learn more than they bargained for about her family. Papa is in full Mickey form .

Notes:

So AO3 was down today and I could not get into a draft ( lesson back up drafts)

I recently began reading the series by SPNDreamer228 , Lina Milkovich Gallagher and loving it .

I just love the Galladads universe and finding new authors to enjoy.

So while waiting for the AO3 superstars to work their magic , I decided to visit my Galladads and Lily Gazer as I could not get in and read the last work I had left of Lina .

MOVE IN DAY

Gracie and her moms just moved in her bags and she sat in her dorm bed nervous, her roommate and her chatted a few times when rooms were assigned . The bit she had, her roommate was nice. They had not said anything to Gracie but her roommate also seemed very strait laced , had gone to a private girls school started college at 17. Their fear was like always, Gracie would be judged by having two moms.

There were boxes on the other bed but no roommate. Suddenly a petite red head burst through the door with a coffee . She was striking , long red hair with curl, pale skin dotted with freckles and piercing blue eyes Her smile was a big sunbeam .

” omg hi Gracie , I’m Lily . Those are cool glasses, I love vintage things. “

She pulled Gracie into a hug then turned and introduced herself to them.

” Lily did your parents leave?”

” No ma’am I think they are around here..”

” Lily baby your RA said you could have your electric kettle, I think it will be good to have, you drink way too much caffeine, Uncle Carl sent you all that weird tea you both drink.”

Gracie and her moms stared a very tall muscled ginger who matched Lily’s coloring . He was an incredibly handsome man.

After gently dropping a kiss on his daughters head he turned .

” You must be Gracie , I love that lip gloss it’s gorgeous. Oh shit hi sorry . I am Ian, Lily’s dad. “

” I am Angie and this is my wife Sue. First time drop off?”

” No Lily’s older brother Liam went here , by the way Lily he is driving in for dinner . “

“ Cool , Gracie you will like Liam , he was an economics major like you. He is in law school now .. umm do I want to know.. where is papa?”

The redhead broke into a fond but amused look .

” When I left him he was grumbling about the safety logs on the fire extinguishers “

He turned to the ladies “ My husband is a bit overprotective, he can be um …let’s say …passionate when it comes to the kids .”

At husband Gracie and her moms grinned at each other .

” Fuck you, fuck you and especially fuck you “ They heard bellowing down the hall. Lily dropped her head into her hands .

Angie grinned “ Sounds like a party all ready”

Lily looked resigned “ Yeah not really . 5. 4. 3. 2. 1”

” Aye punk waaay too many boys sniffing around here , studies first.“

She teased “ Again what if I am a lesbian like Aunt Debbie and Sandy , lots of girls papa”

” No dyke bars with them until 18 don’t need some drag king making moves”

Ian’s voice showed that these seemed to be regular conversations in the family.

” Mick for the hundredth time , 21. Legal drinking age is 21. “

After being introduced to the tough looking man named Mickey of all things they watched him check out the windows then the lock on the girls door, frowning .

Lily’s papa as she called him was smaller than his husband , stocky but not in a way that was heavy but compact and powerful . His husband was carved and shredded muscle but the brunette a powerhouse. He had electric blue eyes that matched his daughters perfectly . Lily side by side with them looked almost like a 50/50 mix of them both.He turned and addressed both girls now sitting on the bed passing Lily’s coffee back and forth.

” Listen up cupcakes, that lock ain’t for shit , next week I will come back , drill that one out put in ones like at the grow houses. Hmm maybe when I come back , get a steel enforced door…”

” Papa you can’t just yank out a door at university “

” For what we are paying if I want remodel this whole room for you both I will .And by the way can that skirt get any shorter punk ? It looks like one Aunt Mandy would have wore to try and flirt with daddy back in the day.”

Gracie laughed and her moms checked out Lily’s knee length wrap dress with tights, confused.

“ Says the man always trying to low key flirt with sleeveless shirts… oh Ian look at my pale biceps, got ‘em in juvie working out .”

” Douche bag, I married him”

” Ass wipe he was my boyfriend first “

” ohhh a gay boy with his girl beard , whatever Mands”

Ian had stopped making Lily’s bed and was watching , arms folded .

” Daddy are you gonna stop this?”

” Sorry baby it’s been like a long time since they fought over me like this . Last time I think she was pregnant with you ( Gracie’s moms exchanged knowing looks ) and they were fighting over clouds or stars on your nursery ceiling. This is kind of puffing up my ego. Your old man does not pull the same looks like when I was younger.”

” Pulease every time you drag me to boystown it’s like he ain’t Macy’s and you ain’t window shopping “ Mickey snorted.

Gracie was fascinated. She loved her moms but they were both stoic and very PC. Lily’s dads were rough and loud but you could hear not insults . but love.

” Daddy?”

Ian took action , he loped over to Mickey and pulled him in as he sputtered and gave Mandy the finger. Both Gracie and her moms realized then he had knuckle tats which spelled fuck u- up .

” Baby , look Lily and now Lily and Gracie will be fine with the door they have. You spent her teen years threatening to take doors off and now you wanna put one on? “

He pulled up brows furrowed at his husband , bottom lip being chewed on while now that Ian was taming his thug shrew, Lily calmly opened boxes and split a snickers with Gracie.

” Firecrotch ( Sue almost choked on her gum) what if there is a fire?”

” It’s already a fire door Mick”

” tsunami.”

” We are in Illinois. They are on the third floor and if the room is flooding, I prefer they get out easier .”

A deep discontented huff

“ Use your words Mick “

” ok what if a bunch of good time Charlies come rolling down the halls at 3 am?”

” Well it’s not 1943 so those good time Charlie’s would be dead so not a lot of trouble and Lily knows those moves from you when you worked for the cart..in Mexico when you worked in Mexico.”

” Fine fucking ok no new door. Can I put a chain inside like a motel “

” yeah”

He turned to the girls “ oh and getting you both bear spray in case you are going through campus late or early.”

” Mick they can’t carry bear spray “

” You got a better idea Aunt know it all not like she can take a 38 into class.”

” Well Uncle Officer Carl could get them pepper spray “

“ Terrifies me that Carl Gallagher has access to a badge, guns and

chemical warfare”

” UNCLE IGGY “ Lily ran and was scooped up by a blonde man also with knuckle tats . She was put down and slugged him hard.

” Ow Lily “

“ That’s for after all these years getting conned to join uncle Joey in that hair brain scheme and going back!”

” Could have brought her when you guys came out, fuck Mandy why did you hit me”

” also pissed “

Mickey hugged Iggy. “ love you man but told you she was not growing up in prison visiting room like us , you all know you go in she doesn’t come out to Statesville. “

Gracie and her moms both noticed Ian and Lily rubbing the bridge of their noses.

” Well now that you have met the Milkovich’s , any Gallagher’s besides Liam showing up ?”

” You mean us?”

Uncle Lip swung her around then hugged her dads and patted Iggy on the shoulder.Tami gave hugs then settled a death glare on Mandy.

”Mandy so surprised your clients allowed you away .”

” Really you do hair Tami , hey Iggy let’s go check in at the hotel . Lily bean I love you see you at dinner “

Uncle Lip chatted about the new men’s group he started for AA and Tami slid behind Lily to French braid her hair. Lily’s gaze intensified and both her and Mickey were watching Ian fold and refold her clothes mumbling softly about keeping it organized.

Soothing and quiet “ Daddy did you take your pills , you ok , kind of a stressful day?”

” Fourth person who asked and yes I did baby girl , guessing papa even counted them this time “

Mickey pulled Ian into his arms and traced his face with his thumb, the lines in the scowl now gone. His voice was warm but with a hint of almost stern .

“ c’mon tough guy, let’s get these two to the hotel , take a nap before the whole hoard terrorizes the waitstaff for Gallagher Family dinner .”

“ But … Mick I haven’t finished sorting Lily’s stuff “

” Daddy I will finish it , you can check it in the morning.Go nap with papa he looks tired and he is insufferable when cranky.“ She winked at her papa who mouthed “ thank you “

She was pulled in tight and heard a sniffle. Uncle Lip put his hand on his shoulder.

” Ian point out the RA Mickey almost decked “ He walked them out .

” He is gonna crash isn’t he papa, I fucking hate bipolar disease so much “

Two pairs of blue stared at each other . Mickey knelt down and cupped his daughter’s face . It was the tenderness and sadness in both their eyes that made both women choke up.

” I know. Lily I hate it too but Daddy has been living with this since you age. I have been keeping an eye on his sappy ass since I was 19. He hardly gets big episodes because we know what is a support med and what is a med change. The older we get the more this lessens. We know what this is , we know what to do. He is gonna bitch and fuss and I am gonna make him take his pill. We are gonna nap. Then everyone is gonna be loud and crazy and wear him out. He has an appointment Monday . Also punk we talked about this . He goes gown , you do not come home. That will stress him more, got it?”

” But papa..I “

” Nope , no . Lily Gazer we stick to the plans ok .”

He turned to Gracie and family a look of sadness and pride on his face. “ My husband has some mental health challenges with his illness but it’s managed well, big emotions good or bad can set him off level. “

” Pops , hey dad is with Lip looking for you.” In the door was a tall young black man who had very similar features as Ian. Mickey reached out for a hug as the man whispered.

”Hi Pops , hey you get dad, I got Lily “

Mickey patted the young man’s cheek then hugged his daughter , wiping a tear.

As he walked out he looked at Gracie’s moms.

“ Aye we live in Chicago , I know you all from Maine. Lily comes home on long weekends, Gracie comes with. Family watches family .”

Liam smiled at Lily.

” Hey baby sis, dads gonna be ok , pops got him . Hey I am Liam by the way.” He shook hands all around.

” Lily there is the ice cream social on the quad. Gracie wanna join , will spill the tea on the first year Econ professors.”

Sue looked at their daughter

” Take off we have to go pay for meal plan , text us when you are done we can then get our reservations for dinner .”

As they headed out Lily hugged them both “ Thanks for not freaking out, my family can be a lot.”

The women watched as the young adults headed off laughing and pushing each other with ease.

Angie smiled “ Babe is it me or do you feel better the Gallagher’s have Gracie in their sights?”

Her wife grinned “ Yeah 1000% better. They are gonna keep her safe and loved while she is away from us.”

#gallavich #gallavich fanfic #gallavich fic #ian and mickey #mickey x ian #mickey milkovich #shameless fanfiction #galladads #Lily GazerGallagher

11 notes · View notes

jankwritten · 1 year ago

Text

Day two of re-deep cleaning my carpets: I went over each room TWICE and the water was still coming out black. However, I have figured out how to REALLY effectively use the machine now, and got out way more of the stains than I did when I deep cleaned the carpets before Christmas time.

My cousin suggested a cheaper cleaning solution than the name-branded one I’ve been using, which I might investigate after I run out of soap. I’m positive that if I did another sweep of both rooms, I’d still be pulling out huge clumps of nastiness, so the soap I’m using right now is good and all, it’s just expensive.

My other worry is that the carpet feels slightly sticky after cleaning. I’m not sure if I should put some hot water into the machine with no soap and run that over to clean up any residue or what, but right now I’m too tired - I’ve been cleaning this shit for 3 hours.

Right now, I’m just satisfied that instead of huge discolored patches everywhere, there are smaller areas of it in smaller, harder to see places.

I’m a little scared of the big living room, which is the worst in the whole house (aside from my papas room). My littlest cousin, now 17, would camp out in one chair for DAYS out there, and he’s notorious for spilling shit. Just the other day he spilled soda all over the carpet, though he did apologize to me for it because he knew I’d cleaned the carpets semi recently LMAO. Those stains were easy enough to get out, but the ones in the big living room are INSANE. Streaks of orange and bright pink completely caked in, nasty speckly spots from food spills, etc. I shudder at the thought. I’ll try tackling that room on Sunday. I’ll have to move all the furniture out of the way, but my grandparents have been good sports about letting me fuck with everything for the sake of cleaning the house.

(Please note that this carpet hasn’t been cleaned in about 10 years, that it has weathered at least 6 children from infant to teenager, and is in the home of two older folks who can’t vacuum or clean as often as the place needs. Since moving in in 2022, I’ve made it my mission to help make the house cleaner, and I’ve so far succeeded! The kitchen is a nightmare, but some battles I just can’t win LMFAO.

Also please note that glitter is a generational curse and at least 1/4 of the debris I keep pulling out of the carpet is chunky silver glitter. I don’t know how but it is in EVERY inch of the carpet in this house.

Triple note that I am in dire need of moving the furniture out of my room and closet and hitting the carpet in there again now that I know what Horrors lie beyond one imperfect deep clean. My room was originally inhabited by nightmare meth aunt who had mold growing in the windows, burnt a huge hole in the carpet that the old cat used to pee in, had broken mirrors laying on the floor, and left behind various, sticky brown stains all over the carpet that I figured I just wouldn’t be able to get out. I now know how to get them out and by the gods. Will I do that. Sometime. Eventually.)

#Rhys irl #I turn 22 and suddenly I need to clean #no I’ve always needed to clean #I suffer from the if I look at it too long I need to fix it disorder #I was laying face down on the carpet the other day and thought. this smells like cat piss.#and that was it 😭

3 notes · View notes

wisteria-empress · 2 years ago

Text

My dear living adventure to escape (THIRD CHAPTER)

my dear-maybe this life is not for me

Author note

Hello everyone author here so in trying to update everyday I did write a lot more but it don't save so I'm trying to rewrite this on a school night wish me luck 🥲

"GIYU WAIT UP DONT LEAVE ME HERE WITH HER😢" was what sabito said before giyu left him

"Think this as pay back sabito" Giyu said looking back at Sabito with a grin Giyu was really leaving him well nothing we can do now

A few minutes later

"GIYU WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME"sabito was on the brink of tears how pitiful of Sabito always telling Giyu to act like a man yet not acting one himself what a fucking hypocrite Sabito is I hope Giyu finds a better man

Giyu was sitting on one of the garden benches when he respond back to Sabito

"i told you one and I'll tell you again think of this as pay back" Giyu responded Giyu had no regrets for what he had just done

"Why are you like this Giyu?" Sabito cried out he went beside Giyu and joined him on the bench

Kizana watched in anger she was hiding behind one of the flower covered bush careful in to not making any sounds

It was about 3 at the time and Giyu started to lay on Sabito shoulder that's when Sabito heard breathing where his shoulder was Giyu was asleep and Sabito had gotten flustered when he realized it he would've pushed Giyu off but he looked so peaceful and well beautiful his beauty was nothing compare to the garden he was far much more even compare to roses, daffodils,daisys,wisteria,Sakura,lotus,lilies,

Kizana could only watch in jealousy

It was about 5 when they were called once again Giyu had stayed with Sabito until he got called for dinner since Tsutako thought Giyu had left a few hours ago and didn't realize that Sabito was still here

"Giyu"a voice said it also came with a knock and that person was Sabito he had brought Giyu some food and some spare food for the trip they were bout to take a trip with no guarantee of making it out alive well maybe not that but you get the gist

By the time the lights went out it was 10 pm as well it was fall so it wasn't cold but it want warm either Sabito climb out from one of the windows in his bed room somehow he ended up with the smallest bedroom out of the 4 that was spilt amount his siblings and family it was still bigger than the servants quarter but smaller than either of his sisters or his parents

Giyu followed Sabito from the window Sabito jump down mid way as he slip against the walls it was hard enough to go down a wall but "a wall with no vines like in the books was even harder how does every book about how a royale escapes there's always some vine they use to escape" Giyu thought to himself Giyu was definitely the smarter one amount the duo he went to school with Sabito for as long as he remembered there wasn't a single moment in their lives that they were separated Giyu was also the one with a more feminine build Sabito was a lot more strong than Giyu only physically though physiologically Giyu was ,and there they were always there for each other no mater what

It only took a few more seconds till Sabito hit the ground with a thump ..... he fell how fucking stupid of him even inosuke would do that, Sabito looked at Giyu when he gracefully landed on the ground unlike him but that's when the escape really started Sabito looked around to see if there was any guards in sight when there wasn't they made their move they ran faster and faster to the point Giyu legs were trembling they were out of the palace's property out of its range it was to a point there's chance no one would find them till early morning

Both kids ran though the city by the time they were out of the kingdom it was about 12 if they kept at this pace they would be at the wisteria house by maybe 2 am

Giyu was tired but they have to keep running or they'll get caught and who would want that they ran into the enchanted forest ,the enchanted forest was a a clear flower path with blossoms as well as wisteria surrounding it the forest lit up the fire flys flew and the gems in the ground shined Sabito picked up one of the flowers it was a peony he took the flower and put in in Giyu hair, Giyu face turned a bright red after that

(Yk how in Sao they level up their skills it's kinda like that but more sword play and elemental it's kinda a sao Genshin mix also Genshin vision names cause I like how it sounds)

The gems color only become more vibrant as they walked the trail till they came to an open area a grassy flowery meadow no more trees only clear ground from here to where as far as his vision could see Sabito jumped into to soft grass and laid there for a moment

"Giyu come join me" Sabito said with a smile

"Look Sabito we're gonna have to hurry before that wisteria house thinks we made a sick joke of our reservation" Giyu looked at Sabito his eyes wandered of to some flowers in the distance as well as dragging Sabito to look at them

"Take a Break Giyu really we've been running for like an hour so chill out"Sabito responded to Giyus attempt to try getting him to move as well as dragging him

"Oh well then I'm leaving you" Giyu said walking away from Sabito,Sabito was laying in the meadow until Giyu tried to drag him

Sabito looked at Giyu when he he started to walk away from him after some time of Giyu leaving the meadow and Sabito behind,Sabito heard something or maybe someone...........

Footsteps............

loud ones stomping so loud it trembled the whole forest the birds started to fly away and the tiny critters began to hide while others ran what he saw left him speechless.............

.........A demon......

he thought to himself 'I thought these didn't exist anymore' anymore he said from he heard of demons when his father was a demon slayer, demons were man eating monsters that prey on humans, although Sabito has had training as a swordsman and was More than capable of taking down one himself he didn't have enough courage to do it himself

The Demon was a monstrously large, veiny, hulking monster with olive green skin, blood red fingernails, and beady yellow eyes with cross-hatch shaped pupils , all that training would do nothing against it he though when the demon turned its head to Sabito it stared at him with cold eyes

"What do we have here?" The demon questioned Sabito never responded

The demon reaches several of his arms at him with high speeds before he could react someone had pushed him before he could get hit

it was ✨Giyu✨ and yet with Sabito not getting thrown by the demon , Giyu was knocked to a tree his arm hit the tree first it started to bleed gushes of blood coming out but before Sabito could react to the blood coming out of Giyu' s arm the demon again again took another swing to him again yet this time the arm fell off

"HUH HOW DID MY ARM FALL OFF?"the demon questioned as he took another swing at Sabito that same arm also fell beneath him, a elderly man with a tenth mask stepped in

"EH WHO ARE YOU?"the demon questioned the man

The man said nothing as he Took out his katana once again before he attempted to slicing its head off yet the demon dodge the attack as trying to form one himself before one of his arms shot up from the ground the floor trembled once again

The took a swing at the demons neck with its sword and with it the demon was now dead his head and body started to fade into ash

"Are you boys okay?" The man questioned concerned of what just happened it was a lot to take in

"Im fine I think-" Sabito was cut off after remembering that Giyu still had blood coming out of him like a bloody tampon

Sabito ran toward Giyu checking to see if he was okay the pulse was fast his heart rate definitely increase as well as there still blood from when he took a hit from the demon his arm would be okay and he would live but he did pass out, the man help bandage Giyu

Author note:

SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE IVE BEEN REALLY BUSY AND MILE STONES ARE COMING UP SO I HAD ALMOST NO TIME TO WRITE BUT IM TRYING MY BEST AND THE TEAM MIGHT ACTUALLY DO A REREAD ON THIS SHIT SO YAY next chapter should come out in a week I know I said that last time but I'm really trying

Ending word count :1556

8 notes · View notes

presidentialapartmentslondon · 1 year ago

Text

How Big Ben Became London's Landmark? Explore 8 Fascinating Facts about Big Ben in London

Big Ben is perhaps one of the world’s most iconic landmarks, truly reflecting the grandeur of the United Kingdom and its capital, London. Overlooking the River Thames, this opulent clock, standing at more than 96 meters, lies in the Elizabeth Tower in Westminster’s House of Parliament.

Looking to explore London's historic charm without breaking the bank? Opt for budget-friendly holiday apartments in London and get ready to unravel the story behind the iconic Big Ben.

Since its creation in 1859, people can only speculate the reasoning behind its name. The two theories that stand out are that it was named after Sir Benjamin Hall, a politician who overlooked its installation, or after a boxing champion at the time named Benjamin Caunt.

1. Its Magnitude is a Wonder

It is no surprise that the clock tower took 15 years to be built. The Big Ben itself is the bell that chimes inside the clock and weighs almost 13 tons.

Its height can be judged by the fact that to get to the top of the tower, one has to climb a total of 399 steps. The dials on the clock have a 7-meter-long diameter, while the minute hand is 4.2 meters long, weighing over 100 kilos.

You can read also: How to Experience The Sherlock Holmes Walking Tour: Your Ultimate Guide!

2. The Engineering Was Outstanding

Although it is the world's largest four-faced clock, it comes as a surprise that Big Ben tells the time accurately within a second.

To protect the clock from any rain or snow that may hamper it, the engineers invented the double three-legged gravity escapement. Moreover, its pendulum has a stack of pre-decimal penny coins to modify the clock's pace.

3. The Clock Survived the Second World War

Big Ben has been through a lot! It was standing during the Second World War and was a visible target for the enemy planes.

On 10th May 1941, it was struck by German bombs, which damaged the windows and severely burnt the building. The Elizabeth Tower, too, underwent some damage. Surprisingly, the clock continued to function without a problem.

4. There is a Mysterious Prison room

One of the oddest things in the clock tower is the ancient, oak-paneled prison room last used in 1880 to hold the atheist MP Charles Bradlaugh. The prison room, accessible from The House of Commons, has since not been used as a holding cell and is currently used by the Petitions Committee.

5. The Bell Does Not Swing!

You will be surprised to see that the bell itself does not swing. It is struck from the outside to make it chime.

The bell is surrounded by 4 other smaller bells that ring together every hour with the main bell to make its unique melody, “the Westminister Quarters.”

Every 15 minutes, the smaller “quarter bells” chime with their different musical notes, B, F, G, and E.

6. Big Ben Went Silent For Four Years

The English weather was taking a heavy toll on the magnificent tower of Big Ben. This is why, after many decades of performing its duty, the clock was given four years to rest in 2017, when it was closed for renovation work.

7. It Was Renamed in Honor of Queen Elizabeth in 2012

In 2012, Queen Elizabeth II celebrated her Diamond Jubilee, and this occasion was marked by the renaming of the tower in her honor. The tower is now called “the Elizabeth Tower” after a unanimous vote in Parliament approved this move.

8. Big Ben is Regularly Featured in Films

Big Ben is our favorite movie character!

The tower has been featured in films and shows for years and now holds the title of London’s most iconic film location. It was featured in iconic films such as Mary Poppins, V for Vendetta, London Has Fallen, and many more.

The tower was blown a whopping 7 times in films, making use of special effects and CGI technology.

No trip to London is complete without walking up to this majestic tower overlooking the Thames and absorbing its formidable presence!

Conclusion:

As you plan your visit to London, immerse yourself in the city's history by exploring the iconic Big Ben. And for a comfortable stay in London, consider Presidential Serviced Apartments in Kensington. Enjoy the convenience of a central location and comfortable accommodations, making your London experience truly memorable.

#Big Ben London #london #london attractions #London iconic #sightseeing #london apartments #holiday apartments london #london guide #london travel

2 notes · View notes

kneejerknuck · 3 months ago

Text

almost

a quinn hughes rpf.

somewhere between past and present, between friendship and something more, Quinn and the MC keep finding their way back to each other. long summers, fleeting moments, and a connection they refuse to name. as old feelings resurface and the lines blur, they’re forced to ask themselves: was this always inevitable? or were they never meant to be?

about 3100 words.

this is just part 1.

The pantry door creaked as it swung shut, the sound swallowed by the quiet hum of the refrigerator. The house felt still, empty in a way that made your pulse echo in your ears. You pressed your palm against the cool countertop, glancing around the familiar kitchen—the faded tile, the chipped white cabinets, the peeling sealant around the sink.

Nothing had changed.

Except, maybe, you.

You hadn’t seen him in nearly a year. He’d arrived a few nights ago, but you hadn’t crossed paths yet—not this morning when you and your family pulled into the driveway, not when you carried your bags upstairs to one of the guest rooms. You knew he was here. Knew he had to be, unless he had better places to be. He usually did these days.

Your smartwatch buzzed against your wrist, breaking the silence.

Mom: Need you and Quinn to run an errand tonight—he’ll be there to pick you up at 4:30.

Your stomach flipped. You grabbed your phone.

You: What errand?

Mom: Groceries and supplies for tonight. I’ll share the list with you.

A second later, a link to the shared note appeared.

You: Ok, will do, thanks mom.

You exhaled, but the breath came out shaky. Two hours. That’s all you had before you saw him again. The anticipation curled in your chest, warm and anxious. It had been easier when you didn’t know when it would happen—when you could pretend it wasn’t coming at all. But now?

Now, you had time to think.

What if he had a girlfriend? He wasn’t just an NHL player anymore—he was a captain, a playoff contender. He had the kind of life that felt impossibly far from yours.

Girls must have been throwing themselves at him—beautiful girls, wealthy girls, models. The kind who belonged in the world he lived in now, the kind who understood the whirlwind of press conferences and private flights and nights out in cities you’d never been to. He probably had a sleek apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows, a doorman who greeted him by name, a fridge stocked with overpriced meal-prep deliveries.

You glanced around the kitchen again, your gaze catching on the cracked linoleum floor. It felt smaller now, like the walls had closed in while you weren’t looking.

You were almost surprised he and his brothers still came here. You expected them to be off somewhere else—chasing summer across the globe, hopping between concerts and clubs, then retreating to their Michigan cabin when they were tired of the noise. Not here. Not anymore.

But he was coming. And you hated how much that mattered to you.

Your phone screen lit up in your hand. Your last text from him stared back at you.

April 21st, 3:24 PM: Good luck tonight!April 21st, 3:49 PM: Thanks! :)

You traced your thumb over the screen, as if you could pull something more from the message. As if you could change it.

Two hours.

More than enough time to get ready. More than enough time to overthink everything.

—

Summer, eight years ago

The waves crashed against the shore, rolling in foamy and wild, pulling at the sand before retreating back into the ocean. The salty air clung to your skin, and the wind whipped strands of hair across your face as you stood ankle-deep in the surf, staring out at the water.

“You’re stalling,” Quinn said from behind you, voice edged with amusement.

“I’m not,” you argued, digging your toes into the wet sand.

“You are.”

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. He stood with his arms crossed, damp from when he'd already gone in earlier. His swim trunks clung to his legs, his hair a mess from the saltwater. He had run straight in the first chance he got, diving under the waves without hesitation, but you… well, you weren’t so sure.

The waves were big today. They roared as they broke, tumbling toward the shore with a force that made your stomach flip. The water was colder than you remembered, too, and every time the tide pulled back, the undertow tugged at your ankles like it wanted to drag you in itself.

“You used to love this,” Quinn pointed out.

You did. When you were younger, you would chase the waves, run straight into them without thinking twice. But now, you hesitated. Maybe it was because you were older, more aware of how unpredictable the ocean could be.

Quinn sighed dramatically and stepped beside you. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll go in with you.”

You glanced at him. “Really?”

He shrugged. “You just have to go when I go. No last-second backing out.”

You pursed your lips, pretending to consider it. “And if I do back out?”

A slow grin spread across his face. “Then I get to push you in.”

You groaned. “Fine.”

Quinn wiped a drop of water off his forehead and held out his hand. “Ready?”

You hesitated for only a second before gripping his palm. His hand was warm and solid, a contrast to the cool breeze sweeping across the sand.

“One…” Quinn started.

“Wait—”

“Two…”

“Quinn—”

“Three!”

He yanked you forward, and for a split second, you resisted, your feet dragging through the surf. But Quinn was stronger, and suddenly, the water was rushing toward you.

The first wave hit fast, crashing over your shoulders, stealing the breath from your lungs. The cold wrapped around you as you stumbled, laughter bubbling out as you resurfaced.

“You suck!” you gasped, swiping water from your eyes.

Quinn only grinned, flicking a handful of seawater in your direction. “You weren’t gonna do it without me,” he teased.

You tried to glare at him, but you were already smiling. “You dragged me!”

“Same thing.”

Another wave rolled toward you, and this time, you dove under on your own, kicking forward into the blue-green world beneath the surface. When you came back up, Quinn was floating beside you, eyes squinting against the sun.

A loud voice called from the shore—one of the parents announcing that lunch was ready. Quinn tipped his head back in the water, exhaling. “Bet you I can race you to shore.”

“You wish.”

“You’re on.”

And just like that, you both surged forward, fighting against the waves, laughter mixing with the roar of the ocean.

—

Present Day

It was not more than enough time.

Your phone screen glowed—4:44 PM. Fourteen minutes late, and you were still standing in front of the mirror, curling wand clutched in your hand, hair only halfway done.

You exhaled sharply, letting another curl slip from your fingers. This was supposed to be effortless, beachy, cool—but instead, it was turning into a full-blown crisis. Why couldn’t you just throw your hair up and call it a day? Why did it have to matter this much?

Because it was Quinn.

Your stomach twisted. He was already supposed to be here. Had he texted? You snatched your phone again, checking your notifications. Nothing.

Maybe he wasn’t coming.

You hadn’t even heard him get back to the house, but he had to be here, right? Unless he forgot. Unless he had something better to do. The thought made you restless, buzzing with the need to move, to do something.

You abandoned your curling iron and turned to the pile of clothes scattered across the bed. The hair was just going to have to be good enough. The jean shorts were an easy choice, but the shirt? Impossible. You pulled one on, turned to the mirror, and immediately ripped it off. The second one lasted a few more seconds before joining the

first on the floor.

It was after 5:00 PM now.

You barely had the next top over your head when a soft tap, tap sounded against your door. You froze.

“Hello?” Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be.

A beat of silence, then—“So you are in there.”

The door cracked open before you could stop it, and then he was there.

Quinn leaned against the frame, one hand resting on the knob, his gaze flicking over the room—clothes everywhere, hair products scattered across the dresser. His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile.

Your face burned. “Hi,” you said, raising a hand in a small, shy wave.

“Hi.” He said it back, softer. His expression hovered between amused and something else—something more guarded, like the version of him you saw in interviews. “We were supposed to go run errands almost forty-five minutes ago.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “I know. You should know by now that I’m always late. You need to plan for that.”

“I did,” he admitted. “That’s why I didn’t come get you until now. Figured either your lateness had evolved past its usual thirty minutes, or…” His lips curved, smug, “You’d fallen down a well.”

You snorted. “Are there even wells nearby?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He tilted his head toward the hallway. “Are you coming or what?”

You huffed, turning back to the mirror. “I’m trying to pick a shirt.” You gestured vaguely to the two options you’d already tried and discarded. “I can’t decide between this one or that one.”

Quinn’s gaze moved between them. Then, without hesitation, he nodded at one of the discarded tops. “That one. I like the color.”

You grabbed it off the bed. “Alright, leave so I can change.”

“Why?” He leaned against the doorframe like he had no intention of moving. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Your breath hitched. The teasing smirk on his lips told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

You rolled your eyes, forcing out a laugh. “You’re right, it’s not.” Then, before you could second-guess yourself, you peeled your shirt off and pulled on the one he’d picked. You caught the way his expression flickered—just for a split second, his jaw tightening, his gaze dipping to your collarbone before he looked away.

“Shall we?” You grabbed your purse and phone, brushing past him as you walked out the door. You didn’t look back, but in your head, you imagined the way he closed his eyes, the way he might’ve inhaled as your perfume trailed behind you. You didn’t need to check to know he was following.

—

Quinn had rented a modest SUV for the trip. He pulled the keys from his pocket and moved toward the driver’s side.

You frowned. “What are you doing?”

He gave you a look. “Getting in the car…?”

“No, absolutely not. I’ve seen the tweets, Quinn.”

His brows pulled together. “What tweets?”

“The ones about you almost killing the innocent pedestrians of Vancouver.”

He let out an exasperated laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious.” You held out your hand. “Keys.”

He rolled his eyes but tossed them to you anyway, walking around to the passenger side. “Happy?”

“Yes, everyone is much safer now.”

You slid into the driver’s seat, started the car, and rolled down the windows as Quinn connected his phone to Bluetooth. The music kicked in—something easy, something familiar—and you pulled out of the driveway.

The drive into town was short but beautiful. The coastline stretched out beside you, the sky a shade of summer blue so deep it looked endless. The air smelled like salt and sun and something else, something nostalgic, and for the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe.

Quinn sat beside you, one arm resting against the door, fingers tapping absently against his thigh. Your right hand sat in your lap while your left steered the wheel. It would have been so easy to reach for him. To let your fingers brush against his.

The thought alone made your chest tighten.

Quinn turned from the window and met your gaze.

Your breath caught.

You looked away first, snapping your attention back to the road, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. But you’d already felt the weight of it—that quiet, lingering look of his, the one you weren’t sure how to read anymore.

From the corner of your eye, you saw his hand shift, lifting slightly off his lap before hesitating.

For a second, you thought he might actually do it. Let his fingers graze over yours, close that unbearable space.

But then—his hand curled into a fist. Like he’d thought better of it.

Your pulse stuttered.

For a second, you thought he might actually reach for you. Might close that unbearable space between you, let his fingers graze over yours, let the warmth of his palm settle against your thigh.

But then—he curled his hand into a fist, dragging it back to his jeans, where it resumed its restless movements against the fabric. He cleared his throat. “Where are we going first?”

You exhaled, forcing yourself to focus. “Uh—groceries first. Then the liquor store for the party.” You risked another glance at him. “I figured we could just grab everything at Costco?”

“No,” Quinn said immediately, shaking his head. “Not Costco. Too many people. Can we go somewhere quieter?”

You frowned. “Since when do you care about crowds?”

He hesitated, rubbing his hands together, his gaze flicking out the window. “I just… this year was a lot. I need a break from people. From the media. Just wanna disappear for a little bit.” His voice was quieter now, like it wasn’t meant for you to hear. “Costco’s a little too risky for that.”

You nodded, flicking on the turn signal. “Right. That makes sense.”

A stretch of silence settled between you as you slowed for traffic, the summer crowd thickening in town. Parents walked hand-in-hand with their kids, weaving between storefronts. A group of teenagers loaded up surfboards into the back of an old Jeep, salt drying one their skin.

You tapped your fingers against the wheel. “So… I don’t know if you want to talk about it, but what was all of that like?”

Quinn glanced over. “All of what?”

You gestured vaguely. “The playoffs. The crowd. Having an entire city chanting your name. That had to feel…” You searched for the right word. “Intense.”

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. “Yeah. It was.”

You waited, but he didn’t elaborate. So you asked, “Were you nervous?” as you pulled into the grocery store parking lot. You found a spot and parked, turning off the engine.

Quinn exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Not nervous. Just… completely in it. Present. The energy in the building was insane.” His fingers tapped idly against his thigh. “Game one, when we stepped onto the ice and the fans were waving those towels—man, I had chills. It was the best feeling in the world.”

Your chest tightened.

“Tell me more.”

Quinn turned toward you slightly, leaning back against the passenger seat, his voice taking on a rare openness. “I just wanted to play well. Wanted us to play well. But I also couldn’t let myself feel it too much, you know? I’m always saying we can’t let the highs get too high or the lows get too low…” He trailed off in thought, “That first goal Nashville scored? I thought it was gonna suck the energy out of the building, but it didn’t. The fans stayed right there with us.”

His voice was warm now, excited. “And then when Dak scored our third goal—right after Pius’s? I swear, I’ve never heard a building that loud before. The pop was nuts.” He turned to you, eyes crinkling at the corners. “It was so cool.”

You smiled. “It really was.”

And then, before you could stop yourself—“I watched it live.”

His expression shifted, his focus narrowing in on you. “You did?”

You swallowed. Looked down at your hands, picking at your nails. “Of course. It was the first playoff game of the series. I wouldn’t have missed it.”

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

The whole truth was that you had watched every single game. Rearranged your schedule. Rescheduled plans. Sat alone in your apartment with the expensive Sportsnet subscription you only bought to watch him. The whole truth was that you had even gone to one game in person, blending into the sea of fans, cheering for him without him knowing you were there.

But you didn’t tell him that.

He was still looking at you when you glanced back up, studying you in that quiet, careful way of his.

“You were fantastic,” you said softly.

Quinn scoffed, shaking his head. “No, I wasn’t. I could’ve been better. Maybe if I had been, we would’ve made it farther…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I always hear the media say, ‘Guys have to find another gear in the playoffs.’ And I just—” He clenched his jaw. “I had nothing more to give. I wanted it so bad, but there was nothing left.”

The raw honesty in his voice made your throat tighten.

“Quinn,” you said gently. “You played incredibly.”

“No, I didn’t.” He exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair again, frustration woven into every movement. “I need to be better. I need to train harder. Work harder. I know better.”

When he looked back at you, his eyes were dark, distant—like he wasn’t really sitting beside you anymore, but somewhere else entirely.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” you murmured. “I just wanted to know what it was like from your perspective. It seemed incredible from where I was watching.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then, softer—“It’s okay. I’m sorry.” His fingers drummed against his knee. “I just… want to be better.”

You hesitated, then said, “Quinn. You won the Norris. I don’t know how much better you could’ve been.”

That made him pause. His lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Yeah. I did, didn’t I?”

Something in your chest unclenched at the shift in his expression—at the way he let himself look pleased for just a second.

But then he shook his head. “I can’t settle. Settling is what losers do. I won’t settle.”

You studied him for a moment, then softened. “I get that,” you said. “But you also need to celebrate your wins when they come. Life can’t always be a grind.”

Quinn didn’t answer right away. His hands moved again, just slightly, shifting toward you—but then he stopped. His gaze flickered over your lips, your chest, your torso, before slowly crawling back up to your face.

Something in the air thickened.

Then he cleared his throat and patted his pockets, like he was checking for his wallet. “We should probably get moving, huh?”

You nodded, grabbing your purse.

As you both stepped out of the car, you thought about all the things you didn’t say.

About the way his hand had almost, almost reached for yours.

Maybe some things weren’t meant to be said out loud. Not yet.

#q. hughes #rpf

2 notes · View notes

mooncakesofpan · 3 years ago

Text

Ten minutes

Gareth Emerson x Gn!Reader

A/n: this is purely self indulgent, I'm telling you now

Summary: Dustin, Mike, and Lucas are invited to watch Corroded coffin practice rather than waiting to see if anyone is at the hideout they goes snooping.

Warnings: suggestive content, strong language, Established relationship, Mike being odd, mentions of getting caught making out,

Word Count: 760

Stranger things Masterlist | Main Masterlist DO NOT STEAL MY WORK

Your hand was on Gareth's neck as you kissed him, your other hand on his thigh as you sat in his bed with him more he was leaning back slightly and you were between his legs making out with him. This wasn't something new you guys found yourself like this on more than one occasion, your pg kisses would snowball, which in knowing this and due to the multiple embarrassing moments from the past led Gareth to lock the door the moment he steps into his room to avoid the embarrassment of being caught again. it was embarrassing the first 3 times it happened after that changes were made.

He smiled against your lips.

“what time is it,” he said against your lips.

You pulled away the two of you panting to look at the clock on his bedside table “3:40,” you say

He thinks for a second “ten more minutes then I have to go open the garage okay,” he says leaning back in to connect your guy's lips giving a comforting squeeze to his thigh. at 4 o’clock corroded coffin was having practice and of course, the rest of hellfire was invited. but this was the first time the freshmen in hellfire had been invited to the practice. they didn't want to be late so they arrived about 15 mins early at 3:45 the house looked empty and the garage was closed the three teen boys didn't know if Gareth was there or not ”what should we do no one here” Lucas

“maybe someone inside, we could look threw the window,” Mike says.

“Mike that sounds like a really dumb idea,” Dustin responds to the boy's stupid idea

“do you have any other ideas,” Mike says.

“I don't know Maybe, Wait for Anyone to get out here!” Dustin yells throwing his hands up

Mike already making his way to the smaller window a bit higher up on the wall on the side of the house leaving the other two boys to follow him begrudgingly. mike jumps on the crates on the side of the house and peers threw the window along with the 2 other boys too curious to see what eve Mike had found.

there behind the gap in the curtain, they could see Gareth with his arms wrapped around someone's neck as he kissed them the group of boys gasped and ducked

“We at least now we know someone home,” Lucas says

“do you think we were supposed to see that,” Dustin says

“Who is that,” Mike asks

“I'm not sure maybe we should ask,” Lucas says the next thing they hear is the garage opening and voices

“your sisters at work right,” you ask

“yeah and Lillian and Ellie at the after-school care thing at their school,” Gareth says hands in his jean pockets

“well let me know if you need anything alright, oh, and also give me back my note tomorrow before Mr. burners class,” you say walking back to your car Gareth joins you in walking to your car.

“yeah yeah I’ll return your notes,” he says teasingly

saying goodbye to each other and your car pulls off leaving Gareth standing there the group of boys walks up to the curly-haired boy who turns around to walk back to his garage. The three boys near the side of his house not knowing what to do, confront Gareth or just let Gareth say something on his own about dating someone?

Pat Jeff and Eddie arrive as Lucas, Dustin, and Mike wait to not show up till everyone else is there not wanting to let everyone know they were there very early.

the older boys take a small break an hour into practice and Mike decides he's going to bring up what they saw.

“so Gareth who was that in your room earlier” Gareth almost chokes on the dr. pepper he's drinking.

“Were you guys looking threw my window!” Gareth's face scrunches up mike starts to scramble to explain “w-well we thought no one was home so we kinda just look threw the window” Dustin and Lucas facepalm at Mike's terrible excuse.

Eddie Pat and Jeff laugh at Gareth's red face, “one, don't look threw my windows like some fucking peeping toms you weirdos, and two that's my partner I thought you three knew” he said trying to drink the rest of the drink,

“wait why don't they ever sit with us at lunch” ”they tend to do homework in the library during lunch” Gareth shrugs.

#gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson #gareth #gareth the great #gareth stranger things #stranger things fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #x gn reader #x reader #xreader #fanfic #gareth emerson imagine

305 notes · View notes

justsabian · 3 years ago

Text

Humans are space.. pets? (Entry 7)

Masterpost

I decided after my last entry that it would be in my best interest to document anything and everything I can get my hands on to aid in making a plan. After I finished writing, I got up and wrote all the following notes; I am writing this introduction after for ease of reading. This entry will be mostly informational and provide insight into the living conditions of the sapients on this planet.

...

I could not get exact measurements of anything, so all measurements will be by my best estimation.

The dwelling is composed mostly of a smooth black stone. The walls and flooring are all this material, whereas the ceiling is made of sand composite. The ‘kitchen’ area carries over the main themes of the rest of the dwelling, but the bases of the counters seem to be metal. The drawers are capable of being pulled out to make a staircase and roll easily out- when not locked. It could be possible to climb up via the edges of the drawers, but it would be more difficult. The counters are too far apart to do a jump off of one onto the other. There are windows at eye level when standing on the counter, perhaps these could be broken or opened to climb out of; it would be a long drop on the other side though.

In the main entryway, there is a piece of furniture that resembles a couch. It’s in the center of the room and too heavy & large for me to drag anywhere. Besides that, the front area is barren. The sapients have removed the carrier they brought me here in, so it’s a non-factor.

The second room of the house, the ‘bedroom’, is slightly more furnished. There’s a storage unit across from the doorway (which has no actual door, I’m unsure why) and 3 smaller pieces of furniture. Two I would equate to being chairs or stools, and one that might be decorative as I see no obvious purpose for it (it’s shaped kind of like a lamp but there’s no lighting system). Above the storage unit there is one small, narrow window. Aside from that, there is a large rectangular piece of furniture that resembles a bed. There aren’t any blankets or pillows, just a sort of soft looking square of white material. There is a door out beside the bed, but the handle is too high up for me to reach and appears to work differently than a traditional human made one. Underneath the bed I have stored my ‘mattress’, as well as my journal. My remaining supplies are hidden under the storage unit.

To take stock:

Swiss army knife

One (1) plain granola bar

One (1) canteen with drinking water (1 quart)

Radio

4 AA Batteries (rechargeable)

Translator

Utility belt (Just empty pockets)

This journal

A pen (half of ink remains)

My current plan is pretty loose, but hopefully efficient. If it fails, I’ll have to factor in whatever variables I missed.

I’ll pack up my supplies onto my utility belt (that is what it’s made for, after all) and wait underneath the bed for a viable opportunity. When the sapients open the side door, I should be able to dodge out around their legs and get outside. Once out, I should be able to slip though the fence. The gaps are large enough for me to fit through if I saw correctly through the window. From there, I should be able to bolt. It’s mostly flat, plain terrain out there, but there are other sapient dwellings and various structures it may be possible to hide near. If I made it this far, the next goal would be to get to the wreck of the Dutchess. She’s in ruins, but I may be able to salvage something useful, even if it is just scrap metal. From here, I’d radio my team and let them know I got out. After gathering approximate locations, I’d be able to formulate an exact plan on how to get them all out. The next step would rely very heavily on Lily being able to make a way to communicate out of atmosphere, but we should be able to get something from the ruins of the Dutchess to send out an SOS. Then, hope and pray to whatever gods there might be.

Plan B is to wait it out and continue documenting what I can from the sapients. Perhaps more information will allow for a better plan to be made. This is probably the safer option.

I’m undecided what route I will take as of now. I want out now, but patience is an important skill to master and may reveal an easier way out.

Captain Crow, plotting. [There’s a crude doodle of a bird with a pencil next to his signature]

Entry 8

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

{Taglist <3}

(you can comment or message me to be added or removed! Thank you all so much for your support!)

@fishtale88 @anactualvelociraptor @ace-cat-nerd @thatquietkid108 @dyn-mellt @arataya @klltsun-25 @librowyrm

#humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are space pets #humans are strange #humans are space oddities

152 notes · View notes

post-leffert · 2 years ago

Text

Winter Street Patrol Basic Guide Zine

A.S.W.M Street Patrol Basic Guide v. 1.0, Winter 2022 @nticopyrite | Send any notes/edits to: [email protected]

Printable PDF (imposed – 12.1 MB) DOWNLOAD HERE

Notes: This mini-zine was created with our experience in a mid-sized town being at close to 7,000 feet in elevation with intense winter storms and a relatively smaller unsheltered community than other larger occupied areas. It’s notoriously hard to squat and camp in (though we’ve done it). We use the term “patrol” cause it’s what we started with and it stuck, use whatever terms your crew is cool with like “outreach” or whatever. Please amend and edit for your area.

According to the National Coalition for the Homeless, approximately seven hundred people experiencing or at risk of homelessness are killed from hypothermia annually in the so-called United States.

Absolutely no one should be left to sleep outside during cold weather yet a range of factors may force people to sleep in the cold; from discriminatory shelters kicking people out, being kicked out of a house during a storm, being forced to flee an abuser, simply being unprepared, etc. Raids sweeps and anti-homeless laws, such as anti-camping ordinances push people to camp in hidden and dispersed areas which puts them more at risk.

What is street patrol? Street Patrol (SP) consists of an autonomous (decentralized) volunteer crew or multiple crews of people who mobilize to support unsheltered relatives when weather is extremely cold. SP’s primary objective is to ensure people don’t freeze. This is done by providing cold weather gear, warm supplies, food, transportation, and possibly shelter if needed.

In some situations SP’s also act as copwatch and may intervene or de-escalate situations of police aggression and violence. SPs can also mobilize to defend encampments against “sweeps” and help to open up squats (get people sheltered in empty buildings!). Variations of crews supporting unsheltered relatives have also struck out against anti-homeless businesses with creative re-decoration or smashed windows, organized mass mobilizations and attacked cops for attacking relatives on the streets, and torn up anti-homeless barriers/benches etc. Some established street patrols have incorporated defense and attack into their practices and mobilize to address fascist threats at events.

Through building solid relationships of support we can go beyond paternalistic charity and provide meaningful solidarity that goes beyond one season. Mutual aid isn’t about being a “savior” it’s about solidarity. Make it a point with your crew that your effort organizes with unsheltered relatives. Street Patrol should be part of a larger effort to attack the root causes of homelessness such as capitalism and colonialism such as; Land Back, abolishing private property, fighting against the commodification of housing by supporting free camps and squats, food not bombs/meal distros, supporting rent strikes and attacking “slumlords” etc.

To the streets.

Street patrol can take anywhere from 1-4 hours (depending on when the crew starts). We recommend at least two people (3 being optimal) per crew/vehicle for street patrol. Always practice the buddy system! It’s up to you & your crew to organize internal communication (we recommend a Signal group), transportation, and supply pick up. It is important that anyone mobilizing for SP upholds any agreements and COVID safety protocols. Be aware that due to the unpredictable nature of some situations, SP crews place themselves at greater risk of COVID exposure as they may be in closer contact with unsheltered relatives who may be COVID positive.

Equipment: * Flashlights/headlamp (each persn on the SP crew). * Fully charged cell phone. * Warm packs (about a dozen per crew). * Emergency & wool blankets (about 4-6). * Basic first aid kit. * Trauma kit (if trained in its use).

For squats and camps: * Crow bar & large bolt cutters. * Tents, sleeping bags, tarps. * Cars can be squats too, check for abandoned cars and bring appropriate tools. Check out the zine It’s Vacant, Take It! available here: www.sproutdistro.com/catalog/zines/direct-action/its-vacant-take-it 

* Hand warmers * Emergen-C * Cough lozenges * Beanie * Gloves * Socks * Facemask * “Know Your Rights: info

Additional items for outreach: * Sleeping bags (keep in mind wool blankets are better as they insulate even if they are wet). * Tents * Jackets * Underwear * Snacks (granola bars etc)

Some patrol/outreach recommendations:

* Ask unsheltered relatives where to check for other folks who may be in need of support. * Respect people’s privacy. Some don’t want to be bothered at their camps or in their cars. * Bring extra warm packs and offer them to unsheltered relatives to give to others. * SP can be conducted well before sundown when people are still moving around (before people hunker down and camp). In severe weather and surprise storms SP can be done anytime (early morning or late at night). In our experience the shelters are known to kick people out early in the morning while it’s still freezing. A few years ago a relative passed from freezing at local park after he was kicked from a nearby shelter in the early morning.

In most instances SP will mainly be locating unsheltered relatives who are caught out in the cold unprepared. Just a check-in and distribution of any cold weather gear, warm packs, etc usually is sufficient. But in other situations, the needs could be more serious.

What to do if a persn is unresponsive or in need of emergency medical attention (hypothermic): * Ensure that the relative is warm and covered. • Do not attempt to move them. • Contact local street medics or emergency services (state that no cops should be involved) immediately if you suspect someone is hypothermic, explain the situation, & wait for EMTs or street medics to arrive. Assess their condition and treat them only if you have the skills. Carry a med kit if you have basic first aid knowledge, carry a trauma kit if you are able. Life-threatening hypothermia can set in between 32 degrees F – 50 degrees F. It may be difficult to distinguish whether a person is profoundly hypothermic or deceased. The profoundly hypothermic person may have a pulse and respirations that are barely detectable.

Warning signs of hypothermia: * Uncontrollable shivering. * Drop in body temperature below 95F. * Slurred speech. * Clumsiness. * Fatigue. * Confusion.

Until medical help is available, follow these first-aid guidelines for hypothermia:

* Be gentle. When you’re helping a persn with hypothermia, handle them gently. Limit movements to only those that are necessary. Don’t massage or rub the persn. Excessive, vigorous or jarring movements may trigger cardiac arrest.

* Move the person out of the cold. Move the person to a warm, dry location if possible. If you’re unable to move the persn out of the cold, shield them from the cold and wind as much as possible. Keep them in a horizontal position if possible.

* Remove wet clothing. If the person is wearing wet clothing, remove it. Cut away clothing if necessary to avoid excessive movement.

* Cover the person with blankets. Use layers of dry blankets or coats to warm the persn. Cover their head, leaving only the face exposed.

* Insulate the persn’s body from the cold ground. If you’re outside, lay the person on their back on a blanket or other warm surface.

* Monitor breathing. A persn with severe hypothermia may appear unconscious, with no apparent signs of a pulse or breathing. If the persn’s breathing has stopped or appears dangerously low or shallow, begin CPR immediately if you’re trained.

* Provide warm beverages. If the affected persn is alert and able to swallow, provide a warm, sweet, non-alcoholic, non-caffeinated beverage to help warm the body.

* Use warm, dry compresses. Use a first-aid warm compress (a plastic fluid-filled bag that warms up when squeezed), hand warmers, or a makeshift compress of warm water in a plastic bottle or a dryer-warmed towel. Apply a compress only to the neck, chest wall or groin. Don’t apply a warm compress to the arms or legs. Heat applied to the arms and legs forces cold blood back toward the heart, lungs and brain, causing the core body temperature to drop. This can be fatal.

* Don’t apply direct heat. Don’t use hot water, a heating pad or a heating lamp to warm the person. The extreme heat can damage the skin or, even worse, cause irregular heartbeats so severe that they can cause the heart to stop.

Tips for surviving hypothermia: – Prevent any further heat loss by getting out of the wind, water, and removing wet clothing. – Be delicate. Organs are in a more fragile state. – Focus on warming the core (chest, neck, head, and groin) with fire, warm water, warm stones, blankets, layers, other people’s body heat—anything to turn the tide. – Be still. This may seem counterintuitive, but at this point pumping more blood will just lose heat through the limbs, and cold blood from the limbs can shock the core (aka “after drop”).

Treating frostbite: Beyond the basics, it’s important be exercise extreme caution if you are forced to deal with frostbite. You can cause even worse damage if you warm a frozen area and then let it freeze again. A range of sources recommend these steps to thaw frostbitten tissue: – Remove wet clothing. – Elevate slightly the injured area. – Start warming by soaking the area in warm water, and stop when the skin becomes soft. – Cover area with sterile medical cloth if possible. If frostbite has affected fingers and or toes, wrap each digit individually. Keep them separated. – Try not to move or use the damaged area at all. – Do not rub frostbitten areas because rubbing could cause tissue damage.

Basic tips for sleeping in extreme cold:

If shelter cannot be accessed the following tips may help anyone survive in the cold. Create or locate any kind of shelter that protects you from moisture and wind. Sleeping bags may give a false sense of protection from exposure. Most sleeping bags lose all insulating properties once they are wet.

We recommend using a combination of wool (or wool blend, some synthetics work like polyester fleece) blankets & a mylar (space) blanket or sleeping bag. If you combine a Mylar blanket with an insulating blanket, you will prevent all forms of heat loss. To do this, wrap yourself in a wool or fleece blanket. Put the Mylar blanket outside of these blankets. You can use duct tape to sandwich a Mylar blanket between two wool blankets for even more protection.

Although wool can be heavy and bulky, it loses little insulating properties when wet and is fairly water resistant. Mylar emergency sleeping bags retain body heat and are water & windproof. Combined with a wool emergency blanket (on the inside of the mylar bag), cold weather clothing, and other forms of insulation, this emergency sleep system can be the difference between life or death when faced with extreme cold conditions.

Keep in mind that mylar does not provide any insulation. It will reflect some of your body heat, but not if you are hypothermic.

Tips for using a Mylar blanket * NEVER put a Mylar blanket right next to your skin. You need an insulating layer between you and the Mylar. * Dry the Mylar blanket if it gets wet. Since it stops evaporation, sweat easily builds up on Mylar. This will make you wet and colder. Make sure you thoroughly dry the Mylar blanket. * Beware of rips. Mylar is very durable. However, once it punctures, it will rip easily along the puncture line. Use duct tape to repair tears. * Add a source of heat. If you are hypothermic, your body won’t have heat for the Mylar blanket to reflect back to you. You’ll need another source of heat. * Note: Hand warmers are not effective in warming someone’s core body temperature if they are suffering from hypothermia.

Other important tips:

The cold ground can suck a huge amount of heat away from your body. Use anything to create a barrier or padding between you and the ground (dry debris, dry leaves, cardboard, etc). Stay off the ground.

All your clothing should be dry. Change your clothes or dry them before attempting to sleep, if your clothes are wet, your risk of hypothermia is greatly increased.

Cover your head and neck, and block drafts, but don’t cover your head in your sleeping bag. If you breathe into your sleeping bag you may wake up warm and wet. Over time, all the added moisture will make your bag cold and clammy.

If possible, go to bed with a full stomach and stay hydrated. It’ll help you stay warm through the night. Pour heated water into a bottle and tuck it against you while you sleep. Try to wrap it in a sock or something similar.

Precautions to Reduce the Risks of Hypothermia: – Wear hats, mittens, gloves and clothing that create a static layer of warm air, provides a barrier against the wind, and keeps the body dry. – Wear loose fitting layers and outerwear that will keep you dry. – Avoid cotton: It dries slowly, and saps body heat when wet. Instead, pick synthetics or wool. – Avoid alcohol and other mood- and cognition-altering drugs. – Recognize the signs and symptoms of hypothermia (e.g., shivering, slurred speech, and drowsiness) that indicate the need to seek shelter and call for help. – Keep and carry emergency supplies containing blankets, non-caffeinated fluids, high-energy food, and an extra supply of medications for chronic conditions readily available.

Some SP specific questions/scenarios and responses/actions based upon our local experiences are (discuss or review these scenarios with your crew esp. if there are any new folks to SP): What to do if an unsheltered person requests transportation to a local shelter or another place? * Discuss with your crew before going on patrol whether or not you will be able to provide transportation or shelter. In some cases a crew doing SP communicated needs back to the larger group and other transportation was arranged (buddies who were ok with sharing space in their ride with possible COVID positive individuals etc). * Our group keeps emergency funds for hotel rooms. While there are many challenges and gets expensive quickly. We do not recommend checking anyone into a hotel with your credit card or information. Note that some unsheltered relatives will not have ID on them so that might be a barrier for room check-ins.

What to do with a safety/security threat? * Always use the buddy system. Read the section below “Mutual Defense & Addressing Threats.” Adapt these practices and make a plan with what works for your crew.

Mutual Defense & Addressing Threats:

SP volunteers may face cops/fascists, aggressively intoxicated and potentially threatening individuals. As outlined in our response recommendations below, we find it helpful to de-escalate, practice harm reduction, and communicate clearly that your crew is providing support and assistance. If people are hostile to you then your’e not part of their community, so don’t push it. We have realized over the years that our best defense and de-escalation tactic is building meaningful relationships and treating those with substance use or mental health issues with dignity and respect.

* No cops or any law enforcement agents. Do not call the cops on unsheltered relatives. We highly recommend that all volunteers patrolling familiarize themselves with their “rights.” If law enforcement agents ask what you’re doing you do not have to answer unless you are being detained. Simply ask, “Am I free to go?” If they answer “No” you have the right to know why you are being detained. Do not consent to any searches. You have the right to document law enforcement activities at a distance that is not interfering with their “work.” More info: https://www.aclu.org/know-your-rights. Local laws vary on providing identification, so do your research. * If there is a threat to your’s or other’s personal safety we recommend the following responses: Deescalate. Evade. Backup. Defend.

* Deescalate: We prefer any situation to be deescalated as a first response, check this resource for tips: www.neighborhoodanarchists.org/deescalation/. In our experience documenting a threatening situation with a phone camera can also help de-escalate a situation (though it could also aggravate a situation so be aware).

* Evade: If a heightened threat exists it may be more effective to evade or leave the area. Some tactics have been to return to your vehicle, lock the doors, leave if possible and call or text your crew for support.

* Backup: We do not recommend doing any street outreach/patrols without the buddy system. Our crew has a community defense Signal thread to mobilize if people face physical threats.

* Defend: We encourage volunteers to defend themselves against threats. Consider personal defense weapons such as pepper spray, knives and firearms. We recommend volunteers do training and orientation on personal and collective defense.

* Practice security culture. Recommended reading: What is Security Culture? A Guide to Staying Safe available at: www.sproutdistro.com/catalog/zines/security/what-is-security-culture-a-guide-to-staying-safe. We recommend that everyone be familiar with security culture and not to discuss other volunteer’s whereabouts or schedules with anyone. In the past we have had police and abusers attempt to contact volunteers and we want to ensure that we keep each other safe.

* Transformative and restorative justice processes are used to address conflicts.

Practice intersectionality. * We ask that everyone be actively aware of and accountable to gender, race, and class dynamics. Specifically the ways in which these matters pervade our everyday lives and inform and impact all of our relationships. Please read this on anti-colonialism and orient yourself: www.unsettlingminnesota.files.wordpress.com/2009/11/um_sourcebook_jan10_revision.pdf and Accomplices Not Allies (by us).

Check out these other zines: *DIY Emergency Tyvek Shelter *DIY Emergency Handwashing Station *How to start an Indigenous Mutual Aid COVID Relief Project

Compiled by Indigenous Action and Kinlani Mutual Aid Winter 2022 – v. 1.0 www.indigenousaction.org

#zine #zines #distro #winter #organizing #clothes #clothing #indigenous action #survival #guides #praxis #outdoors

13 notes · View notes

sour--disposition · 4 years ago

Text

Take Me By The Hand

harry lewis x fem!reader

requested: Heyy, could you do the ‘take my hand’ concept that you did with JJ, but with Harry?? Love your writing sm! Xxx

please see my pinned post for masterlist and request info!

One taking the others hand to help them up

You were 4 when you first met Harry properly. You’d been running around the playground, chasing after one of your friends when you’d taken a tumble and ended up in a small heap on the floor. Harry had come trotting over, sticking out a hand to help you up.

“Is your knee okay?”, he asked you.

“I don’t think so. It’s bleeding”, you told him sadly.

Harry kept hold of your hand, dragging you over to where the teachers on duty were standing. “She hurt her knee”, Harry said bluntly, poking one of the adults and then pointing to your knee.

Harry followed you and the teacher inside, sitting next to you as you had your knee cleaned and a plaster stuck on. The teacher left to fill in the accident book and write a note for you to take home. “I’m Harry”, the boy said as soon as she’d left.

“I’m Y/N”, you told him with a bright grin.

“Shall we be best friends?”, Harry asked with a toothy smile.

“Yes!”.

Holding hands whilst one walks on a small wall

You and Harry had stayed best friends from that day forward. There wasn’t anything that you didn’t do together. Harry would always be the first person you’d turn to whenever anything was wrong. He held your hand through every trip you took to the first aid room in your primary school and he shouldered his way through to sit next to you whenever you were in a classroom together.

Harry asked you out on your first date when you were both 15. You’d gone to his house after school, pestering him until he did his homework before you let him outside. He’d been pacing around the lawn in front of you, completely distracted from his kickaround with Josh, as you sat on the deck with Rosie.

“What’s wrong with him?”, she asked from beside you.

“I have no idea”, you told her. “You know what he’s like though”, you dismissed, all the while worrying about your best friend.

Rosie and Josh ran inside 20 minutes later to help set the table for dinner, leaving you and Harry alone in the back garden. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up with you?”, you asked him.

“Do you wanna go on a date?”, Harry blurted, leaving you stunned. The two of you were wide-eyed in surprise, both with words caught in your throat that you were desperately trying to say.

“Yeah”, you smiled.

A week later you met Harry by the beach. You’d seen each other through the week during school and spending the evenings after school together, but this evening felt different. This evening would be the one that potentially changed yours and Harry’s relationship forever.

You walked side by side down to the sea front, stopping and sitting on a small wall there. The two of you talked for hours, like you always did. Harry telling you about his family, about what happened in the few classes that you didn’t share together, telling you about his day and you returning the favour. You laughed well into the sunset, a soft silence falling over you as you watched the sun dip beneath the Guernsey horizon.

“It’s getting dark, and it’s cold. Let’s head back”, Harry suggested. As soon as you’d stood up, you stepped up onto the wall you’d just been sitting on, making you ever so slightly taller than Harry. With your arms held out for balance, you took a few tentative steps.

Harry reached out, grabbing your hand to keep you steady. You looked over to him, a shy smile on his face that you soon mirrored, paired with a rosy blush. Harry kept your hands entwined as you walked along the wall, matching his pace with yours so he didn’t rush you and cause you to stumble.

When you reached the end of the wall and jumped down, your hand didn’t leave Harry’s.

Holding hands whilst driving

Harry had never let whatever Youtube success he was gaining get in the way of the two of you. He always made time for you, always made you feel important. As soon as he’d learnt to drive and got a car, you and Harry would spend hours traversing the coastline, wind pouring into the window and billowing through your hair as you watched the cliffs and waves pass you by.

If you were in his car, Harry would insist on you being in the passenger seat, no matter who else was joining you. His hand would always rest on your thigh as he drove, only ever moving to change gear before quickly returning to its place.

Your fingers were wrapped loosely in his, making sure he was able to let go and reach for the gear stick whenever he needed to. The roads along the coastline were fairly straight, only ever bending slightly and no sharp turns in sight.

With the road empty bar from the two of you, Harry snuck a glance over to you. Your face was illuminated by the soft glow of the sun, hair windswept against the headrest and over your shoulders.

“I love you”, Harry said simply. It was no massive declaration, it didn’t have to be. You and Harry had been friends for 13 years, together for nearly 2. He’d loved you for as long as he could remember.

“I love you, too”.

Possessive hand holding

The first time you visited Harry in London was quite the nerve wracking experience. Aside from helping him move his stuff into his flat with Lux and Freezy, you’d barely seen him since he’d left the small island you both called home.

You waited by baggage claim, leg shaking with restless, nervous energy. It was just your luck that your suitcase was one of the last to make its way through and round the conveyor belt, the hall almost empty by the time you’d got your belongings.

Harry was waiting for you just outside arrivals, just as restless and nervous as you were. His eyes had been glued to the door from the minute you’d text him to let you know you’d reached baggage claim. Every person that walked out of the sliding doors that wasn’t you irritated him even further. It had only been a few weeks since he’d last seen you, and he was going mad.

At last, you trudged through the doors, looking a little worse for wear and incredibly pissed off. But you were there.

Harry wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. “I’ve missed you so much”, he whispered into your hair. “The guys are already at my place, I hope that’s alright”, he told you. “They’re really excited to meet you”.

At Harry’s apartment building, he kept a tight hold on your hand as he led you upstairs. “Harry, it’s okay”, you assured him, squeezing his hand.

“Just nervous”, he told you.

Harry led you into the apartment, pausing for a second so you could drop your case by the door and kick your shoes off. His deathly tight grip on your hand never waned, like he was scared you were going to escape.

“Lads, Y/N”, Harry said awkwardly as he led you through the doorway. “Y/N, both of the Cals, Ethan, JJ, Simon, Josh, Tobi and Vik”, he introduced, pointing to each man in turn as he said their names.

“Nice to meet you”, you smiled happily.

You sat next to Harry on the sofa, squeezed up against his side. His hand was still gripping onto yours, squeezing tighter whenever any of the guys started to talk to you. “Harry”, you whispered, wiggling your fingers in his grip. “What’s wrong?”.

“Someone looks a little jealous if you ask me”, Freezy poked, wicked grin shooting across the living room.

“Oh, give over”, you scoffed, flicking Harry in the chest. “You buffoon. There’s nothing to worry about. Now ease up, you’re cutting off blood flow to my fingers”, you teased.

Rubbing their thumb over the other’s hand

“I don’t wanna leave”, you sighed, leaning further into Harry’s chest. “I miss you too much”, you whispered.

“I miss you, too”, he told you, wrapping both arms around your body and pulling you closer.

Harry watched over your shoulder as you opened your phone and pulled up flight times for a few weeks time, scrolling through them to find the cheapest option. Seeing Harry as often as possible was taking its toll on your finances and Harry knew you’d only accept so much help from him.

“What if this was the last time you flew home?”, Harry asked into your hair.

“What do you mean?”, you asked, thumb pausing over the screen.

“I spoke to Cal about it the other day, before you came”, Harry started. “How would you feel about moving to London?”, he asked.

You turned in his arms, facing Harry. “Are you being serious?”, you asked, a blossoming grin eager to bloom over your face.

“As I’ve ever been”, he whispered.

3 weeks later, you waited at the gate in Guernsey airport, surrounded by your family. “I’m so happy for you”, your mum whispered as she pulled you in for a tight hug. When she pulled back, you were both laughing through the tears that had begun to shed. “You and Harry deserve to be happy”, she told you.

They watched and waved as you walked towards the flight bridge, knowing that this would be the last time they’d see you for a while. You sat in your seat, watching as Guernsey got smaller and smaller below you. Although leaving home was never going to be an easy thing, you knew that you could build a home wherever Harry was.

You’d already shipped a lot of your stuff over to Harry, leaving you only to bring a large suitcase with you on your flight. You had no idea what to expect when you arrived, whether your stuff would be in Harry’s room or boxes strewn into whatever corner of the apartment they could fit into.

“Here”, Harry said as you sat in the car in the car park outside of the apartment building. He handed you a key on a keyring. “House keys”, he told you.

“Thank you”, you smiled

Harry pulled your case behind you as you walked up to the apartment. You stilled in front of the door, Harry pulling to a stop next to you. “Are you okay?”, Harry asked, voice filled with concern.

“Yeah”, you assured him quietly. “It’s just a lot, y’know”, you murmured.

“I know”. Harry’s thumb skimmed across the back of your hand in a soft, repetitive, soothing pattern. “I love you”, he reminded you, thumb never halting its soft reassurance against your skin.

“I know”, you smiled up at him. “But I love you more”.

Unconsciously searching for the other’s hand whilst asleep

If you were to ask Harry when he knew you’d be in his life forever, he’d have told you when the two of you were 5. Teasing from the other kids about you being best friends with each other was almost never-ending, but you and Harry always found a way to make light of it.

It wasn’t uncommon to see you and Harry playing with the dolls amongst the other little girls or racing around through the mud with the other boys. Everyone quickly learnt that where Harry went, you went and where you went, Harry went.

Harry knew you were going to be his bestest friend forever when he’d sat down on the grass to play and realised that there were no toys left. You’d come and sat down next to him and you’d played in the mud together, making daisy chains and mud pies and potions that you stirred with sticks, never caring about the dirt coating your pretty pinafore dress.

If you were to ask Harry when he knew that your relationship was meant to last, he would fumble and stumble over his words, not really knowing what to say. It was something that brought his friends great joy, asking what he saw in the future for the two of you. After all, you had been together since you were 15.

The night Harry realised you were his one great love was rather anti-climatic. There was no fireworks or mind-blowing kiss or Earth shattering sex. In fact, you were curled up asleep next to Harry, hair piled on top of your head and the hem of one of his Sidemen Clothing shirts riding up on your thigh.

He’d shut his computer down and gotten ready for bed, sliding in next to you as quietly as possible. Whilst he was lounging in bed next to you, attention focused on the screen of his phone, you’d started shifting beside him. Harry laid stock still, not wanting to wake you up with any movements.

Instead, you reached a hand across the bed, seemingly searching for something. When you couldn’t find whatever it was you were looking for, a frown settled itself onto your face. Harry was sure you were dreaming, but couldn’t resist closing the gap between your fingers and his.

The minute Harry hooked his fingers around yours, the frown on your face disappeared, replaced by a soft, blissful smile. Harry had known you long enough and knew you well enough to know that you were still fast asleep, the gentle sighs falling from your mouth being a dead giveaway.

So, if you asked Harry when he knew that your love was meant to last, he’d tell anyone that listened that it was the moment he realised you loved him even in your dreams.

961 notes · View notes

elizabeethan · 3 years ago

Text

look in the mirror (and cry)

Part 3 / 5

Summary: Chrissy survives Vecna’s first attack, just barely.

Season 4 rewrite wherein Chrissy survives and Eddie is a soft worried angel

Author’s Note: TIME FOR FLUFF. if this turns into 6 chapters don't hurt me.

Rated M

Read on Ao3

Read my Other Things

Get added to my Hellcheer fic tag list

Tagging: @sotangledupinit @klauscarolove @itsfabianadocarmo

~~~~

It’s decided that she’s a sitting duck.

Max survives an attack, just barely making it out with the help of Kate Bush. Dustin says that she falls to the ground and it sounds just like what happened to Chrissy, only none of her limbs were snapped. She told them all what she saw, and it sounds eerily similar to what Nancy reported Chrissy describing to her.

It feels like only a matter of time, somehow. It feels like Chrissy isn’t safe no matter where she is, but especially in the house that haunted her visions of Vecna as he tried to curse her. It can’t be a good idea to let her go back there, right? Couldn’t he use that as a weakness somehow? If he’s in the Upside Down, couldn’t he find her in that version of their dimension and curse her again?

For some reason, everyone agrees with him. He really didn’t see that coming.

It’s like a sting operation. At first they tell him that he shouldn’t come, but he very forcefully and almost violently insists, and for some reason, they agree again, more reluctantly this time.

He’s still kind of a fugitive so he hides in the back of Steve Harrington’s car, shoved against the seat and covered with a blanket, and wishes that he hadn’t ditched his van. It’s much roomier.

He wishes more than anything that he could be the one to climb to her window once the light goes on, but it makes sense for Max to do it. Along with her Kate Bush tape, she lithely climbs to the roof beneath Chrissy’s bedroom window and knocks, somehow convincing her to come to the car with a bag of clothes in far less time than he expected.

He can’t really see much of her, the blanket obscuring his vision, but still, he can see the giant, heavy plaster covering her arm from her knuckles up to her underarm. It’s held close to her with a black sling which he assumes assists in keeping her shattered arm immobile and safe.

She lets out a tiny giggle, one that he wouldn’t expect from her after everything she’s been through, and he can feel her leaning forward towards him, the dainty fingers of her right hand lifting the blanket from over his head and exposing his eyes. Her smile beams down at him, and although it’s smaller and sadder than it has been, it’s genuine.

“Hi,” she whispers, her fingers playing with the hem of the blanket just by his chin. “Max said you were gonna be down there.”

“Hey,” he laughs breathlessly. “I, uh, yeah. Hiding.”

“Smooth,” he hears from the front seat, and if he could reach Robin with his elbow, he’d send it into her ribs.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” she says softly, voice sweet and tender in a way that makes him want to pull her into his arms and hold her there for as long as he can.

“Of course,” he whispers back, and in a moment of boldness, he moves his hidden hand and brushes her fingers with his. He wants to tell her, I'll always be here for you, or maybe, I'll never leave you again, but they both feel too… intimate, he supposes. At least for the full car. So he settles again for, “Of course.”

Reefer Rick’s been in jail for a couple months, and he’s expected to stay there for a few months more, so his place is empty. At first, he was too nervous to break into the house, settling for the boathouse, but then he spent the night throwing up in there, and Steve shoved an oar into his ribs a couple of times, after he witnessed the almost-death of his… friend… and he decided that he could use a little comfort. He deserves to sleep on a couch instead of a damp, smelly dock.

So when they get to the main house, he lets himself take a deep breath, lets himself settle just a bit as he searches through the kitchen for something to eat. “You like Spaghettios?” he calls into the living room where Chrissy stands stiffly, staring at Rick’s bookshelf with her right hand extended towards the spines.

“I don’t know,” she calls back, and he gasps dramatically.

“Chrissy Cunningham!” he shouts. “I’m about to rock your world.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. But she giggles again.

~~~~

Her mother doesn’t think she should be listening to loud music that can rot her brain. She hated the Walkman when she saw it, cringing and asking what she could possibly want with something that would play the horrid music directly into her ear drums, wondering where she even got it, but Chrissy only supplied a soft smile accompanied by a shrug as she pulled the headphones onto her ears.

The tape he made her has been playing constantly for a week now. She never thought she would get sick of this song, but it is getting a bit old by this point. Still, though, as she pokes through Reefer Rick’s house while Eddie makes some kind of canned catastrophe, she comes across his small collection of things lying on the checkered couch. And she noticed his own Walkman. And she opens it up and–

QUEEN – Somebody to Love.

“Dinner!” he calls theatrically, making her jump and anxiously force the top shut again. “You okay?”

He looks her up and down as he holds two white bowls with spoons sticking out, his hen-covered apron making her smile, and it’s reminiscent of that time a few weeks ago in the woods, the first time she saw those spiders crawling out of the clock face. She kind of likes the way he approaches her so playfully and immediately shifts into this serious, concerned demeanor when he sees her startling.

“Sorry,” she says quietly, offering him a small, disingenuous smile. “I didn’t–”

“Hey, you’re okay,” he tells her, and it feels different somehow. He didn’t just tell her that it’s okay, that it’s okay that she was touching his private stuff, that it’s okay that she’s so jumpy and annoying. He tells her that she’s okay. She’s here, she’s welcome, she’s alive and in one piece, technically, she’s safe.

She’s safe. She’s safe with him.

And because she knows she’s safe, she figures it’s also safe to lighten up and seek a little clarification as she gestures down to the Walkman. “Is this a backup? In case mine gets wrecked or something?”

His wide smile falters for a second before he plasters it back on, more forced this time, and walks to the couch adjacent to the one she stands by. “Sure,” he says, his voice enthusiastic but hesitant, somehow. “Come sit? I know Spaghettios probably isn’t the gourmet you’re used to at the Cunningham estate, but it’s gotta be better than the green Jell-o the hospital was giving you.”

That’s probably true, she thinks, so she obliges and sits beside him, not too close, but close enough so that it’s safe for her to take the hot bowl with her unbroken arm and rest it on her lap. “Thanks,” she murmurs softly.

“Hang on a second,” he encourages quietly, suddenly deep in thought as he stands, removing the apron and then walking towards the bookshelf she was just near. He takes a large hardcover book off the shelf, reads the cover– “Animal Farm,” he cringes– and walks it back over to her, lifting her bowl and placing the book down on her lap. “There ya go. Your own little TV Dinner table.”

With a soft giggle, she thanks him again, reaching for the spoon with a tiny smile as she watches him do the same. The spaghetti and tiny meatballs are surprisingly good, and she finds herself scarfing the dinner down without even thinking about the calories that have to be involved with something that doesn’t taste like paper.

She jumps again when the tape runs out, moving to reset it, but Eddie’s hand stops her so she meets his eyes. They’re deep and dark, wide and curious and caring as they gaze into her own, and she can’t help but to let her lips turn up slightly, her head tilting to the side in curiosity. “Do I finally get a break?”

“I thought you liked that song?” he asks with a soft laugh as he takes the headphones from around her neck.

“It’s my favorite. But I've heard it, like, two thousand times this week alone.”

“Right,” he chuckles as he stands up. “That’s why I figured we could try something else. We don’t know if you’re allowed to listen to other songs so we won't risk that,” he explains, walking back towards the shelf and fiddling with the old looking record player that sits one shelf up from the floor. “And I’m not gonna be one of those asshole douchebags who insists that you need to listen to the music the way it was meant to be heard,” he continues, his voice changing to a cloying, annoying mimicking tone that makes her laugh. “But I feel like it’ll sound different coming from the record through the speakers.”

With a giggle, she says, “Okay, let’s try it.”

It does sound a bit different, more crisp, or something, and she smiles as she sits down and notes the way that he closes his eyes passionately and dramatically, making a fist as he silently sings along into a fake microphone. “You’re crazy,” she laughs, and he looks at her with false incredulity, pretending his feelings are hurt by her claim.

“How dare you?” he asks during an instrumental break, careful not to interrupt his lip syncing.

“You’re not even singing!”

“I can hit these notes, Cunningham. I just didn’t want to make you jealous.”

With a hearty laugh, she assures him, “I wouldn’t get jealous; I'd give you a round of applause.”

As if just on time, he joins in with his own vocals, almost expertly meeting Freddie Mercury note for note with just as much charisma. He takes her bowl as he continues on with the second verse, placing it on the coffee table before them and taking her hand as he carefully lifts her into a standing position.

With laughter in her lungs and her throat and her heart, spilling from her mouth and from her eyes as happy tears poke against them, genuine joy hitting her for the first time since she can remember, she isn’t even embarrassed as she joins in with the backup vocals, accompanying his dramatic performance with ease and earning an excited grin from him.

He dances with her carefully yet playfully, still loudly singing along but missing a few notes as his laughter interrupts. He spins her, he holds her unbroken hand as he jumps up onto the couch, dropping it to mime the guitar solo. He starts jumping on the couch as the melody builds up, and she almost cries with laughter, her stomach hurting from the use of a group of muscles she hasn’t worked in such a long time. His voice squeaks out, almost hitting the highest note but missing as he cuts himself off and doubles over laughing, jumping down from the couch and taking her hand again as the melodic flow of the song settles her heart. His other hand wipes away a tear and then, before either of them know what’s happening, she’s leaning against his chest with her cast between them and her other arm around his waist, both of his arms holding her closely, his chin resting on the top of her head as they sway together.

And it's the most romantic thing she’s ever experienced.

He’s humming still, as the song starts to come to a close, his throat vibrating against her nose, and she wants to press her lips against his chest. She knows he was only kidding, making a scene to make her laugh, and even though he couldn’t hit all the notes, his voice was stunning. Her heart is calm for the first time in a long time, her fingers have stopped shaking, her eyes are closed as the song plays through.

“You’re a regular groupie, Christina Cunningham.”

She smiles wholeheartedly, letting out a soft, contented sigh. “You’re a regular rockstar, Edward Munson.”

“I’m a metalhead,” he defends, and she shrugs. With a chuckle, he says, “And my name isn’t Edward.”

“What is it?” she asks softly. Although the song has started again, she still doesn’t want to interrupt this.

“Edmund,” he tells her, almost shy.

“Edmund,” she repeats gently. “Well, Edmund, my name isn’t Christina.”

“Agh,” he curses, moving his hand from her back to snap in disappointment before placing it right back where it was, much to her satisfaction. “What is it?”

“Christine.”

“I had a 50/50 shot.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be gambling,” she jokes, and he tickles her ribs softly and she swears she feels his lips doing something when she giggles and squirms before settling against him again.

He holds her, swaying with her as the song runs through again, and then once more. He sings quietly about wanting to get out of this prison cell and she’s never felt more understood in her life. He sings that he takes a look in the mirror and cries and she almost cries, too. And his voice is so soft and gentle and it rumbles in her ear as he sings over and over and over about finding somebody to love. And that’s all she’s ever wanted, really. Somebody who wants to love her.

Overcome with emotions that she can’t quite identify, she finds herself squeezing his waist as she whispers, “Thank you.”

His lips do that thing again– whatever it is she isn’t sure, maybe a smile or maybe even a kiss, but she doesn’t want to let herself believe that too firmly– and he whispers back, “For gracing you with my flawlessly stunning musical talent?”

She laughs again and finds herself nuzzling her nose against his collarbone. “For everything. You saved my life.”

She feels him stiffen and worries that that must’ve been the wrong thing to say. Eddie hasn’t been in her life for very long at all, at least not significantly, and she was unconscious for half the time anyway. They haven’t seen each other for two weeks. This is only the third time they’ve hung out– fourth, if she counts the talent show in sixth grade. But still, something has shifted with her. Maybe having a near death, monster fueled experience with someone is a good way to form a connection with them. But every thought she has of Eddie is accompanied by a longing deep in the chambers of her heart and a fluttering deep in the pit of her stomach that has nothing to do with her need to purge her dinner. In fact, she doesn't need to purge her dinner, and she hasn’t felt like that in years.

The differences in her life can be pinpointed to Eddie Munson. His presence in the woods had to have been the thing that stopped the visions of those spiders in her head. He pulled her out of the curse she was under just by being there for her. Vecna was going to attack her anyway, whether she was at his trailer or a game or Jason’s house; Eddie’s the reason she’s still alive. She’d be gone if he wasn’t there when it happened. He’s the thing that gave her the strength to end things with Jason. He’s the reason she chose to run from her parents’ house, to flee the oppressive way that her mother would have monitored each bite she took of her dinner. And it was his idea to get her out of the house anyway, to avoid another Vecna attack.

He’s changed everything for her. And she wants him to know that she knows that, that she appreciates it. She wants him to know that, although she probably shouldn’t, she’s having feelings she’s never had before, ones that are undeniable and strong and don’t scare her even though they should.

But he stiffens, and maybe that’s not something he wants to hear from her.

“I left you,” he croaks out, his voice breaking and almost inaudible over the shredding guitar solo still blaring behind them. “I didn’t save you, Chrissy. I told you I would stay with you and I ran the second I got a chance. I’m a coward.”

“No,” she insists, shaking her head as she lifts it to look up at him. She moves her good hand from his back, using it without thinking to brush a long strand of hair back into place. “No, Eddie, if you weren’t there, I’d be–”

“Don’t,” he begs. His eyes are sadder than she’s ever seen, big and round and tearful. “Please. Don’t say it.” She doesn’t. She just stares at him, just as sadly, and nods. “I can’t– every time I think about–”

His breathing is faster, his hold on her tighter although she doesn’t mind. Tears are in his eyes and she notices the way his jaw starts trembling, panic setting in as he must recall the sight of her bones breaking and her body suspended. She can’t let him feel this way, especially not when he’s been so adamant about making her feel better, so even though she isn’t sure how he feels about her or what’s passing between them, she cups the back of his neck beneath his hair and pulls him close enough to touch her forehead to his. He hunches over to reach her, and something about it makes her smile.

“I’m here,” she tells him, recalling the way he’d done the exact thing for her. The way his words made her feel just a tiny bit better after the worst experience of her life. “I’m right here, and I'm here because of you. After you turned on Freddie,” she starts, earning a watery laugh against her lips which she mirrors, “it was like it broke through the spell, you know? And then all I saw was you. And I heard you calling out for me and I just… I just ran. I ran to you because I knew that if I could make it to your arms, I'd be safe. And I was. I still am.”

She feels him taking a deep breath, in through his mouth and out through his nose. He nods, his nose bumping against hers in a motion so intimate that her heart nearly stops. The song starts again, and even though she could be driven crazy at any moment hearing the same notes over and over, he keeps her sane. “I wish I stayed with you. I’m so sorry.”

“You couldn’t. You were right; you probably would’ve been arrested. Hawkins already started a manhunt; it’s not safe for you out there.”

“The Satanic Freak,” he muses, and she’s unable to decide if he’s being humorous or not.

“No,” she whispers. “The really nice guy who saved my life.”

That brings a small laugh from his lips, and it makes her smile. “Are you sure you don’t mean your true love saved you?” he asks, and she gives him a questioning look. “Freddie?”

Her smirk grows across her lips as his sense of humor returns. “No,” she says casually. “I’m more partial to Roger.”

“Roger?!” he balks, pulling away from her slightly but keeping his strong hands on the small of her back.

“Don’t act so surprised!”

“The drummer, Chrissy? You wound me.”

In a moment of boldness, she grins and shrugs. “I like his curls,” she says, flicking her fingers through his bangs.

For someone so cool and confident, the speed at which his eyes grow wide and his face turns beet red is surprising.

~~~~

#eddissy #eddissy fanfic #eddissy ff #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer ff #eddie x chrissy #eddie x chrissy fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddissy fluff #hellcheer fluff #this is the fluffy chapter pals #its one of my faves #hellcheer angst #angst #fluff #look in the mirror ff #fix it fic

16 notes · View notes

theres-a-goldensky · 4 years ago

Text

30 More The Untamed Fic Recs

Here we go again. Another Wangxian rec list. Are you bored of me yet?

Were these recs helpful to you? If so, you can check out my other Wangxian rec posts:

Part 1 - 40 recs

Part 2 - 23 recs

Part 3 - 23 recs

As ever, feel free to reblog.

You can also head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

(All recs are complete) (I’ve noted pairings, length, and rating, but not any warnings or additional tags.)

** denotes personal favorite

1. say it's here where our pieces fall in place by Lirelyn - ~69,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Lan Zhan meets Wei Wuxian after he adopts a small A-Yuan, because Wei Wuxian also has a past with him. Lots of adorable family feelings and emotional hurt/comfort.

As often happened, Wei Ying’s voice preceded his entrance, calling to his co-worker through the open door, “Frankie, they forgot to order spoons again, can you hold down the fort a little longer while I —”

Lan Wangji was already looking to his entrance, head turning as if magnetized toward the voice, so he saw the moment when Wei Ying’s eyes landed on A-Yuan and the smile fell from his face. He looked stricken, and Lan Wangji immediately looked to his son in alarm. A-Yuan seemed fine. His small eyebrows were pulled together in a small frown as he looked back at Wei Ying, but that wasn’t surprising, given the expression on Wei Ying’s face. Lan Wangji had seen that face beaming, laughing, whining, wheedling, and occasionally angry, but never like this. He looked blank and hollow and it stirred something fierce in Lan Wangji: he wanted to rise up and obliterate whatever was making him look like that. Then his eyes lifted to Lan Wangji and there was a flash of something almost like betrayal, before he pressed his lips together and turned his back.

“I’m going to run out to the store and get spoons,” he said in a flat voice to his co-worker, and left without looking their way again.

2. the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships - ~41,000 words, mature - This is an AU of the novel where Wei Wuxian puts two and two together when Lan Zhan sneaks that kiss from him. It changes a lot of things.

Against his own will, Wei Wuxian found himself glancing at Lan Wangji’s hands. They were… certainly large enough that one of them could wrap around both of his wrists. And Lan Wangji was certainly strong enough, tall enough, broad-shouldered enough to bodily pin him against the trunk of a tree with no chance of him breaking free. Lan Wangji was the first person he’d come across in his slow comb through the vicinity of where he’d been so headily kissed.

Wei Wuxian drew a sharp breath. There was a connection to be made here. He didn’t think he was crazy enough to make it. Perhaps he truly was going slightly insane with demonic cultivation if he could believe Lan Wangji, the paragon of virtue and respectability, who lived unflinchingly under Gusu Lan’s three thousand edicts, who had at best only tolerated his presence as children, would sneak up to him while he was blindfolded, pin him against a tree, and steal a kiss from him in broad daylight.

3. and his wanting grows teeth by yukla - ~25,000 words, teen - This is a very interesting AU where Lan Zhan is a traveling cultivator and runs into Wei Wuxian and the Jiangs looking for shelter during a snowstorm. No spoilers, but this fic goes to a pretty dark place that genuinely shocked me, but I enjoyed. (Still ends well though.)

Without further ado, they are hustled past the entrance and into a smaller greeting area. Huang-bobo approaches the brazier in the center with his hands outstretched, warming his fingers in the heat, but Lan Wangji hangs back. As he carefully brushes the snow free from his shoulders, he feels the burn of a curious gaze trailing up and down his body, lingering at the guqin still strapped to his back; when the sensation pauses at his face and stays there, he lifts his head.

The boy with the ribbon lights up at the eye contact, flashes another dazzling smile, and gives a little wave.

“You must be new here,” he whispers, something like laughter threaded into his voice, eyes scrunching into winking half-moons. “All dressed up in white like that! You might lose yourself in the snowstorm!”

Something stirs to life in Lan Wangji’s chest. It’s—uncomfortable, he decides, and so he steps away. Teasing should not be encouraged with a response.

4. Ghosts Shouldn't by ShanaStoryteller - ~15,000 words, not rated - After Wei Ying's death, his spirit seems to linger. The story is told from Lan Xichen's point of view. I love an outsider point of view. I also love the way the author fleshes out his character as well.

Lan Xichen means to force his way inside, angry ghost of the Yiling Patriarch or no, but then his brother lets out slow breath, settling, the pain easing from his face as he falls back into a more peaceful sleep.

His hair is moving on its own, so subtly Lan Xichen might not have noticed it if he hadn’t been looking at Wangji so intently. It’s like someone’s running their hand through his hair.

The window frosts over suddenly, thick enough that he can’t see through it. Anxiety spikes through him so quickly he’s nauseous with it, but then the frost melts away and the opening notes of Healing start up again.

He can’t tell if it’s a warning or not. Maybe it’s just an acknowledgement. Wei Wuxian knows he’s there.

5. **leading tone by silencemostofall - ~32,000 words, general - This is a modern AU set in a world where people who love you leave a mark of color on you the first time you touch. Wei Wuxian has no color on him. So much emotional hurt/comfort. So much of Wei Wuxian's terrible self-esteem.

He can cover up his palms with his gloves, so that the blankness does not draw stares. But he has no marks on his fingertips, which he cannot easily hide, and none visible on his face or neck, the blankness of which is even more difficult to hide. People look at him and, with a single glance, understand the single most devastating truth that he knows about himself.

They assume that he does not have very many marks. He may be an eccentric, dramatic person, but the likelihood that an individual has all of their marks on, say, their feet or their torso or other places that are not immediately obvious-- that probability goes down as your number of marks increases. He can laugh as much as he wants about how he loves touching people for the first time with odd places, like the knee or the elbow, but it doesn't quite mask the feeling of other that he knows he exudes.

They assume that he does not have a lot of marks. This, while a heavy weight, is not unbearably so. It is okay that they think he is not much loved. It chafes a bit, and feels occasionally like something he has to furiously push down within himself, but it is not unbearable. What would be unbearable is if they knew the truth: that he does not just have very few marks, but none. That he is simply an individual who is not loved at all.

6. **pastel by antebunny - ~7,000 words, gen - This is a remix work of the above fic. It's from Lan Zhan's point of view and just different enough to be interesting. Still lots of emotional hurt/comfort. I love this concept a whole lot, and both of these fics are great.

It’s a simmering day in May, and Wei Ying is wearing long sleeves, long pants, and gloves.

His choice of dress isn’t unusual for many reasons. For one, there’s plenty of people who don’t like strangers seeing their soulmarks. There’s plenty of people who wish to keep them private by covering them up. For another, Wei Ying spends most of his day in various chilly computer science department rooms, He could just be wearing long sleeves for that.

7. one good thing by Yuu_chi - ~27,000 words, teen - Wei Wuxian has died (or did he??) and is haunting his old home. Lan Zhan moves in. This story has a happy ending! And so much yearning!

To the flowers struggling to grow on the other side of the glass, he says, “We’re getting a new roommate. Well, I’m getting a new roommate - you’re getting somebody who might actually be able to water you for a change.” The flowers outside sway a little in the breeze, and Wei Wuxian nods contemplatively. “He can’t be any worse than the last guy who lived here. Remember when I spooked him while he was cooking and he nearly burnt the house down? Of course you don’t. You’re fucking foliage, your memory is worse than mine. I remember though, so it’s cool.”

There’s the sound of shuffling behind him and Wei Wuxian looks up to see the stranger has entered the kitchen, setting the last of the boxes down on the table. Disgustingly neat handwriting declares the box kitchen - homeware. The stranger carefully brushes his hair back from his face and, without so much as a second of hesitation, cracks open the box and begins unpacking.

“Wow, you really don’t waste any time, do you?” Wei Wuxian marvels. “You literally just got here - who cares about unpacking? Sit down for a moment, breathe, have something to eat. It’s not going anywhere.”

8. with you, I am home by tellthemstories - ~47,000 words, mature - Modern AU where Wei Wuxian is being forced to return home to entertain marriage proposals. So naturally instead he "convinces" Lan Zhan to pretend to date him. I love a good fake dating fic, and this one hits all the right beats.

Lan Zhan does that almost-smile thing that Wei Wuxian takes to mean he’s happy, or at the very least not-mad. “You don’t have any money.”

“Not true. I have the money from our last job, when we settled the vengeful spirit for the flower shop girl.” (He doesn’t. They have Lan Zhan’s money. Wei Wuxian spent his on a pack of loquats and three bottles of Emperor’s Smile wine.)

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian says. “Do it for me.”

Thinking back on it two weeks later, standing alone in the middle of Jin Ling’s graduation banquet and watching Lan Zhan walk away from him, Wei Wuxian realises that this, this was the moment when he should have known. He should have realised in the way Lan Zhan doesn’t hesitate or negotiate and just says with that half-fond, half-exasperated tone he gets sometimes, “Fine.”

9. and in the spring i shed my skin by wvlfqveen - ~11,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Wei Ying can't find Lan Zhan, but hey, there happens to be a rabbit here instead. Features a very slow Wei Ying, emotional hurt/comfort and accidental love confessions.

Immediately, his heart settles and he grins down at his new friend. “Oh, hello there,” he coos, reaching out to pet the fluffy ears. The bunny is very, very still under his hand.

“Did Lan Zhan bring you today?,” he continues cooing. “I’m sorry I missed that, but your Dad didn’t tell me he was bringing you.”

Lan Zhan rarely brings his rabbits to work since they are as tolerant of crowds and unnecessary noise as he is. They were probably relevant to today’s lesson but…

Wei Ying frowns. “Why would he leave you alone? And where is your cage?”

10. how, or when, or from where by sarahyyy - ~10,000 words, gen - Wei Ying wakes up in the hospital with amnesia and can't remember the last few years of his life, including his best friend and the guy he's in love with.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes so hard Wei Wuxian is surprised his eyeballs don’t just fall out of his eye sockets. “That’s the worst part. He did. Whatever mating ritual you both have going on is so fucking weird, Wei Wuxian.” He snorts. “If you’d stayed asleep for any longer, I’d have lost my shit and thrown my myself out a window just so I wouldn’t have to talk to Lan Wangji again.”

Wei Wuxian blinks at him. “Is this a good time to ask who Lan Wangji is?”

Jiang Cheng glares at him. “Your Lan Zhan,” he says, annoyed. Wei Wuxian must look as confused as he feels, because Jiang Cheng’s annoyance bleeds out into concern. “Your Lan er-gege? Your soulmate, Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “No bells are ringing.”

11. ** a shared plate by yukla - ~26,000 words, teen - This is an absolutely gorgeous fic about Wei Wuxian traveling the world post-canon to rediscover himself and restore his faith in humanity and eventually find his way back to Lan Zhan. The whole thing is great, but the last two chapters are just *chef's kiss*

Lan Zhan,

Just as the mountains stand unchanging and the green rivers flow ceaselessly, we will meet again — and between then and now, you cannot hope to avoid my letters, either! Haha! Lan Zhan, I’ve seen so many things and met so many people, and it’s only been a month!

I miss you already

It’s so hot that I find myself missing the wind in Gusu’s mountains. Your poor Wei Ying is I’m melting away, Lan Zhan...

I’m realizing now, sixteen years is a long time to be away — the world is vast, and quite a bit different than I remembered. And in sixteen years, a child can also grow up into a man! It’s your job to catch me up on A-Yuan’s fun childhood stories! I do remember hearing something about a pile of rabbits...

12. with your arms outstretched to me by annemari - ~14,000 words, teen - Lan Zhan finally gets up the nerve to ask Wei Ying on a date, but things don't go as expected. Features emotional hurt/comfort (are we sensing a theme with these recs??) and just regular hurt/comfort.

"Oh, man, I was hoping you had some water with you," Wei Ying says. "I totally forgot to bring any for myself. Stupid of me."

"There is enough for both of us," Lan Wangji says. He has another bigger bottle in the car, as well.

Wei Ying hums but he only takes a few sips. He presses it back into Lan Wangji's hand. "I don't need any more."

Lan Wangji is considering arguing, but then Wei Ying shifts a bit, moving his ankle, and gasps very, very quietly.

13. ** A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart - ~22,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian has finished traveling and returned to the Cloud Recesses and Lan Zhan. But their lives never do run smoothly.

“Lan Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian says, recognizing him after a moment. His heart slams against his rib cage. “Where is Lan Zhan? What’s happened?”

Lan Jingyi flaps a hand at him, gulping air. Wei Wuxian hands him the water, and leans back against Little Apple’s side as he waits impatiently for the boy to get his breath back.

“I’m so glad I found you,” Jingyi gasps, just as Wei Wuxian is about to throttle a proper answer out of him. “Hanguang Jun was in such a state when he woke up, we didn’t know if you’d come and gone already.”

“Where is he, Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian says, as evenly as he can. “What happened?”

14. So Why Not Crack Your Skull When the Mind Swells by greenteafiend - ~14,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel extraordinary pain unless he's touching Lan Zhan. Yet more of Wei Wuxian's self-esteem issues and Lan Zhan's steadfast devotion.

“Are you hurt, Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asks, pressing his hand to Wei Ying’s forehead to feel his temperature. There is no fever, but that doesn’t do much to mitigate Lan Wangji’s worries.

“No—I’m not hurt,” says Wei Ying, sagging forward to lean his weight into Lan Wangji’s hand like he can’t help himself.

It’s so strange—Lan Wangji can feel what Wei Ying is feeling. Although the relief is still very profound, wisps of other things are making themselves known; happiness; wistfulness; guilt. It’s all so fleeting that Lan Wangji can’t even begin to deduce what has provoked those feelings, but he wishes he knew their source.

15. puzzle pieces by Anonymous - ~6,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are roommates, and Wei Ying has started borrowing Lan Zhan's clothes.

“Hm? Oh.” With sleepy eyes that does— things to Lan Zhan’s heart, he blinks and tugs at the lower hem of the shirt, which is riding just above the curve of his thighs. Does Lan Zhan’s mouth water? Maybe. Yes. Absolutely. “Ah, yeah, sorry. Laundry day caught up to me before I could catch up with it. I saw this shirt left in the washer a few days ago, and—“ He blinks up at Lan Zhan through dark eyelashes that Lan Zhan wants to kiss, maybe, and gives him an uncharacteristically hesitant smile. “Do you mind?”

I mind the fact that we are not married, Lan Zhan thinks. But he can’t say that, and his tongue doesn’t know how to say anything else. So he stays silent.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says after a moment. “If you—oh, damn, I should’ve known, this is like real silk, must’ve been super expensive. Fuck. Okay, here, uh, I’ll take it off—“

16. ** Nothing But Trouble by brooklinegirl - ~60,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Wei Ying is trying to be a good brother and get Jiang Cheng laid. Somehow this plan involves pretending to date Lan Zhan.

"I won't!" Wei Ying insists. "I'll ask out someone...high stakes. I'll find someone. I'll...okay, how's this? I swear that I'll ask someone out and keep at it for at least two dates."

"No."

"Three dates."

"Nope."

"Okay, okay, five. That's fair! That's more than fair! One person, five dates." He points at Jiang Cheng. "You have to do it, too. That's how a pact works."

Jiang Cheng stares at him. "Five dates," he says flatly. "Five. And yours can't be Nie Huaisang."

17. i'm the one for your fire by occultings (microcomets) - ~43,000 words, explicit - This is a Modern AU and a Cherry Magic AU! (Side note: GO WATCH CHERRY MAGIC IF YOU HAVEN'T.) But in short, Wei Ying turns 30 without losing his virginity and gets the power to hear people's thoughts when he touches them. He gets more than he bargained for with Lan Zhan. The author does a good job of translating the story to these characters. Wei Ying is not forced to be like Adachi, the main character of Cherry Magic. He's still himself, and the same goes for Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan’s voice is so clear, so sudden that it’s as though it’s spoken, the slice of a sharp object through velvet.

He’s touching me.

Wei Ying startles for a moment, wonders if he’d somehow heard his own thoughts instead, but — no, that had definitely been Lan Zhan’s steady, factual baritone, loud and clear.

God, this is still so weird. It still doesn’t seem totally real. But how else can he account for hearing Lan Zhan’s voice in his head, as clearly as if he’d spoken to Wei Ying directly?

18. like blue flame over my fingertips by tangerinechar - ~37,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are roommates, and Lan Zhan just finds himself wanting to take care of Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji’s roommate. Is a problem.

He doesn’t get an answer to the roommate problem until the next morning, when Lan Xichen texts him telling him that the apartment he’d suggested (and helped pay rent for) to Lan Wangji said in the small text that it’d be two people per apartment, the second bedroom wasn’t actually a guest bedroom, sorry, Wangji, you can move in with me if you want, I have space —

No. Thank you for your kind offer, Brother, but I will be quite fine, Lan Wangji texts back.

19. ** some impulse of delight by handclaps - ~20,000 words, explicit - College AU where Wei Ying decides he needs to help Lan Zhan get used to touching people. Lan Zhan agrees. Wei Ying is dumb and in love. Lan Zhan is less dumb, but still as in love.

Lan Zhan shakes his head and fumbles, tries to push the cotton wool into Wei Wuxian’s hand.

“Sorry,” Wei Wuxian says, realising. “Touching people, I know.”

He feels dumb. He thought he’d worn Lan Zhan down more than this, that they were friends now and that his whole no touching thing was mostly overcome. He took Wei Wuxian’s hand easily, right? He looks down at his belly full of scratches, dabbing at them moodily.

“Sorry,” he says, again.

Lan Zhan makes some kind of noise, but he is busy packing the first aid kit back, placing everything exactly where it was before.

“Lan Zhan, you’re going to have to do something about this,” Wei Wuxian complains. “I know you don’t like touching people and usually it plays as a kind of gentlemanly thing, but what about emergencies?”

20. And I Will Call You Home by Spodumene - ~43,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian returns after a year of traveling and rejoins Lan Zhan in the Cloud Recesses. He's doing a good job of pining and ignoring the obvious. Look, at this point, it shouldn't be a surprise that I'm a sucker for stories where Wei Wuxian deals with his ~*~issues~*~ and Lan Zhan takes care of him, whether he asks for it or not. This story has lots of that. I also enjoyed the case fic aspect of it.

“I do, I think,” Wei Wuxian admits. “Would be nice to see his face again after so long. And at least this time, I’m going to show up draped in finery. What do you think, Lan Zhan? I can’t possibly disgrace him—or you—wearing a cloak like that.”

“You could never disgrace me,” Lan Wangji says gently, that soft, affectionate look back on his face.

Wei Wuxian grins, warmed to the tips of his toes.

“I’ll remind you of that later. The next time I’m three jars deep and feeling especially shameless, you’ll have to remember those words, Lan Er-gege.”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji says simply.

Wei Wuxian smiles some more, overwhelmed by fondness.

21. darling, am i a chore? by martyrsdaughter - ~7,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian really, really wants Lan Zhan to call him 'gege'. Lan Zhan knows a trump card when he sees one.

“You know what I want,” Wei Wuxian purrs, reaching up on his tiptoes to throw his arms over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Call me gege, won’t you? Call me and I’ll stop.”

Lan Wangji knows he will not stop, regardless of what he calls him. Still, he thinks about it. If there really is a way to make Wei Wuxian stop, should he not consider it? He doesn’t have any real interest in curbing his husband’s insatiable mischievousness, but he does like knowing things about him—everything there is to know.

If there’s something that persuasive in the world, that it can bring Wei Wuxian into submission when no one is under threat, could he stop himself from seeking it?

22. your name, safe in their mouth by astrolesbian - ~11,000 words, gen - Wei Wuxian & Lan Sizhui fic with the Wangxian in the background. Lan Sizhui wants another dad and Wei Wuxian wants a son, they just don't know how to explain that to each other.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

Lan Sizhui tucks his chin into his uncle’s shoulder, and lets his eyes fall closed.

“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it?” Wen Ning whispers to him kindly.

Lan Sizhui takes a deep breath, and takes stock of all his aches, his ringing ear, his hollow chest, the way he had selfishly wanted Wei Wuxian to keep speaking to him in that careful voice, like he was just a child to be soothed and there was no real danger. How dangerous, to pretend. “No,” he lies. “It doesn’t hurt that much at all.”

23. when you're doing all the leaving (then it's never your love lost) by tardigradeschool - ~26,000 words, teen - AU where Lan Zhan with Wei Wuxian to Jin Ling's one-month celebration. Things go down, and it leads to Lan Zhan discovering Wei Wuxian's missing golden core. This obviously will not do, and oh look, the best doctor in the world just happens to be right here.

“How—“ Lan Wangji chokes. “His core —?” He looks at Wen Ning, half accusatory in his shock. “Jin Zixun could not have—“

“No, no!” Wen Ning says, holding out his hands. “He hasn’t had one for years, don’t worry!”

This is not as reassuring as Wen Ning seems to think.

“Please explain,” Lan Wangji says, pained. He feels for Wei Wuxian’s pulse instead; in the absence of a golden core, it will have to do as reassurance that he’s still alive.

Wen Ning is so anxious that the story comes out in a ramble, out of order. Lan Wangji wants him to hurry up, but he’s also not confident in his own ability to speak, so he just keeps quiet and lets him talk. His heart feels as if it’s about to fall from his chest, beating nearly twice as fast as Wei Wuxian’s does under his fingers.

24. A Match in the Making by lareine - ~30,000 words, teen - A Modern AU where Wei Wuxian sees his single and bad ass friend Lan Zhan and his single and bad ass friend Mianmian and gets some very dumb ideas.

To return to the point: Lan Zhan was peak adulting. Mianmian was peak adulting. And if they were both at the peak, then they were on the same level. What level? That mysterious level thing that everyone mentioned when it came to dating.

Whatever level it was, Lan Zhan and Mianmian were on it together. Wei Ying nodded to himself. So, Lan Zhan and Mianmian were allowed to date each other. The next question was: were they compatible? Did they have chemistry or whatever the fuck people called it?

25. Crack me open, pour you out by Tenillypo - ~16,000 words, explicit - Lan Zhan gets cursed to say whatever he's thinking. So his worst nightmare. Mutual pining, first time, all good stuff.

Lan Wangji freezes with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, lifting his eyes to stare at Wei Ying.

"I know! Just completely paralyzed." Wei Ying mimes being still as a board. "I don't know how long I lay there. It must have been two days at least. Good thing for Little Apple. He wandered back to the village when he got hungry, and eventually a few of them got brave enough to come look for me. When they rolled me over, the figure fell out of my hand and I could move again. Cunning little thing." He shakes his head. "I was weak as a kitten for a little while after they took me back to the village, and by the time I recovered, they'd burned the whole place to the ground. Such a waste."

Lan Wangji slowly lowers his chopsticks, heart racing unpleasantly. In his head, a picture of Wei Ying slowly wasting to death alone in the middle of the woods, with Lan Wangji a hundred miles away and none the wiser.

26. Crazy, Rich Cultivators by ShanaStoryteller - 13,000 words, no rating - Lan Zhan wants to bring his boyfriend home to meet his family. There are some things he definitely didn't realize about Wei Ying.

“He has a life here,” he says down the line. He doesn’t say that he has a life here too, one he likes a lot more than the one he had before. He misses home. He’d miss Wei Ying more. But he doesn’t say that, doesn’t say how vibrant he is and how beautiful and how little interest Lan Zhan has at seeing him among the high society he grew up with.

“Well, your life is here, Wangji,” his brother says. “You can’t stay away from home forever. You’re going to have to see how he does with the rest of us sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.”

It might as well be never, as far as he’s concerned. His family can meet Wei Ying at their wedding.

“I’ll ask,” he says.

Wei Ying has no interest in cultivation politics. They’re horrible, the five clans have an iron tight alliance that’s thirty seconds away from collapsing in on itself the moment someone from one sect steps on another sect’s toes. It’s the worst and he hates it. Surely even just the idea of it will be so horrifying to Wei Ying that Lan Zhan will be able to tell his brother no.

27. just our hands clasped so tight by electrum ~4,000 words, teen - Lan Zhan really, really, really just wants to give Wei Ying everything he wants.

“Despite your best efforts,” Wei Wuxian agrees. He shakes his head in mock-dismay. “How much longer do you think that will last if you keep buying everything I look at?” When this, too, fails to soften Lan Zhan’s resolve, he tries a different tactic. “We couldn’t even afford potatoes,” he says. “Back when I was with the Wens, at the Burial Mounds. Only radishes! If I survived that, I can certainly survive without another pretty comb.”

Lan Zhan’s expression is at once unmoved and yet somehow stricken. “I would have bought Wei Ying potatoes,” he says, like Wei Wuxian doesn’t know, by this point, that Lan Zhan would buy him anything. “If I had known…”

28. ** Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller - ~64,000 words, no rating - Jin Ling & Wei Wuxian with Wangxian in the background. Jin Ling is the best boy! And as he tries to rehabilitate his sect and his family and keep himself alive at the same time, he realizes, horrifyingly, that he has to be the mature one.

29. ** an act too often neglected by Ariaste - Lan Xichen / Meng Yao, ~61,000 words, explicit - The Wangxian is in the background here, but the main story is about Lan Xichen meeting Meng Yao on a dating app and getting immediately dickmatized. Meanwhile. Meng Yao refuses to be won over by Lan Xichen's charm. It goes as well as you'd expect for him.

The caption below is equally sparse: “5’6. Demanding.”

Lan Xichen feels a low simmer of arousal kindle in the pit of his stomach, and he gazes at that word-- demanding --for nearly as long as he’d stared at the photograph. He swipes right.

A few minutes later, a notification pops up: < Hm, the size of your hands is promising.

This is familiar. This is the flirtation stage. Lan Xichen knows the steps to the dance.

30. My Land Beneath Me by longleggedgit - ~30,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Wei Wuxian is cast out of his sect and out of China to America. And Lan Zhan just...follows.

Lan Zhan always waited for his tea to cool before drinking, which meant he had nothing to do but give Wei Wuxian a judgmental look. “No more McDonald’s.”

“You’re just bitter because you get indigestion from anything that actually tastes good,” Wei Wuxian grumbled.

Because Lan Zhan was insufferably mature and patient, he didn’t rise to the bait. “We have time to stop somewhere before class,” he said.

“Fine. But you’re paying this time.”

It was a bad joke, and predictably, fell flat; Lan Zhan was, after all, paying for everything, every time. Wei Wuxian frowned into his mug.

“You know,” he said, after another swallow, “you really don’t have to be here. I’m going to figure something out.”

Interested in 86 more The Untamed fic recs?

Part 1 - 40 recs Part 2 - 23 recs Part 3 - 23 recs

#the untamed fic #the untamed #master of demonic cultivation #wangxian fic recs #wangxian fic #mdzs #lan xichen/jin guangyao #lan zhan #wei wuxian/lan wangji #wei wuxian #jin ling #lan sizhui #mxtx novels

141 notes · View notes