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vampi-fixx · 2 years

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a matter of habit

ミ★ pairing: yusuke urameshi x reader ミ★ fandom: yu yu hakusho ミ★ summary: yusuke has a habit of stopping by your place, bringing food and another type of delight. ミ★ genre: smut. 18+ only ミ★ word count: 1,776 ミ★ warnings: friends with benefits, unprotected sex, kitchen sex, afab reader

He shows up at your apartment unannounced, like always, hours after his ramen stand closes for the night. It’s not like Yusuke to ring you up anyways, since he thinks all forms of technology are “a fuckin’ headache,” and after the first few visits, you’ve come to expect his knocking at all hours of the night. Welcome it, in fact.

“Yo,” Yusuke greets. He’s wearing his favorite green jacket, but you’re surprised to see his hair isn’t slicked-up in its usual style–he must have showered before heading over here. You did mention last time that the smell of pork broth clinging to him was kind of a mood-killer. In his hand is a plastic bag, holding what you have no doubt is food. The one thing you can say about Yusuke is that he’s always considerate enough to bring grub whenever he swings by.

“Gonna let a guy in?” He shudders, hunching his shoulders up. “It’s freezing!”

“Was hardly expecting to see you,” you quip, leading him inside.

“Yeah, well, I hope you weren’t expecting Santa.” He shuts the door with a kick, deposits the bag on your coffee table, and slumps into the couch cushions, looking entirely at home. You suppose it’s not a long-shot, considering how often he’s been over.

“Hmm… you’re a lot less jolly than him,” you muse, plopping down next to him. “Less round too.”

“Thanks! I try to stay in shape,” he says, patting his stomach. Despite his sarcasm, you can definitely attest to his stellar physique. “Gotta, after all.” He sighs. “All that ramen would get to me otherwise.”

“Is that why you’re giving me the leftovers?” you ask wryly. “Trying to fatten me up instead?”

“Leftovers?” He furrows his brows, and you’re surprised to hear he actually sounds offended. “(Y/N), what are you talking about?! I always make you a fresh batch. Besides, I’m sick of all these noodles. This,” he starts, unwrapping the bag’s contents, “is Chinese takeout.”

You grin, rolling your eyes as you help him. “I still say you’re trying to make me fat.”

He scoffs. “It’s not like anyone would complain—hell, I wouldn’t complain if your ass got bigger.” He waggles his brows, sneaking a glance at your rear, and you laugh, smacking him on the shoulder.

The two of you dig into the food, reruns of your favorite sitcom playing in the background. When the both of you are full and satisfied, empty takeout cartons littering your table, you lean back into the couch. Your head rests on Yusuke’s shoulder, and he drapes your quilt over your bodies (He does make sure to grumble about your tendency to hog the blanket, though). His hand rests on your thigh, and the heat of his palm seems to disperse through your leggings. You shiver.

“What? You cold or something?”

“You could say that,” you say, distracted, shifting under his touch.

“It’s a yes or no answer.”

“Then I guess I’m saying no, it’s actually getting kind of warm in here, don’t you think?”

Yusuke shoots you a confused look. You decide to show him what you mean—he is a man of action after all. You move so that you’re straddling his lap, all pretense of watching the TV gone.

“So, if you were Santa, would I get my wish granted?”

He pauses. “Depends,” he finally says, gaze darting to your chest. Yusuke’s laser-focused on the ample cleavage your tank top provides, and you have to clear your throat for him to break his stare. “Uh, what is it you want?”

“There’s this guy….” you begin, curling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “And… we have a thing.”

“Uh-huh…” he says, fully intending for you to go on, his hands sliding up to cup your ass. You don’t miss his attempt to angle you towards the tent in his pants, and you bite back a smile, resisting his guidance.

“And… I was thinking…”

“I’m not a mind-reader, (Y/N.) You gotta tell me–”

You press a finger to his lips. “Shh. I was wondering if you wanted to break the new kitchen in? You do seem to like it an awful lot—”

You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s hoisting you up and speeding to the kitchen. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms latching around his neck.

“I thought you’d never ask!” He exclaims.

You laugh. Yusuke deposits you on the kitchen counter, then his lips are on yours, quelling your mirth. With his hips pressed tight against yours, you can feel just how excited he is. A roll of your hips has him groaning into your mouth.

“You’ve got… way too many clothes on,” you say. You reach for his jacket and yank it off. It doesn’t even hit the ground before his hands are up your shirt, and you moan as you feel his fingers cup your breasts. You tilt your head back, and his mouth finds its way to your neck, his teeth biting down. You gasp, bucking into his hips. He groans.

Your hands dart for his belt buckle. You’ve become a pro at undoing it swiftly, but as his jeans slip down his legs you come face-to-face with—

“Pfft.” You have to stifle a laugh.

“What? Laundry day is tomorrow!”

“Or were you just… excited to see me?” you ask, raising a brow. You grasp his unclothed length and pump it, still feeling the vestiges of humor at the fact that he came to your place commando. “I guess it does make things easier.”

“Mm, yeah that too.” Yusuke grunts, his jaw clenching.

He tugs impatiently at your leggings, and you laugh, removing your hands from his body to slip them down your legs. He wastes no time before delving his fingers right into you, without warning. Your breaths stutter, and he swears.

“Damn, you’re pretty excited too, huh.”

“I-I was hoping you’d drop by.” You gasp as his fingers start pumpinginto you, much like how he plans to with his cock. “Did you bring a condom?” you ask, trying to hold onto your last thread of sense before you snap—

Yusuke swears. “Shit, that’s the one thing I forgot.”

“Well,” you say, dazed by the feel of him, velvet steel, against your palm, at the way his fingers, so thick, are still thrusting into you. “I guess as long as you… pull out…”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm.”

“Well then, what are we waiting for?”

Yusuke pulls his fingers out of you, and you nearly whine at the loss, but then he’s dragging your ass to the edge of the counter. You spread your legs wide, propping yourself up with your arms, and he enters you in one, swift thrust. You jerk against him. He’s hot and hard and fills every part of you. He groans lowly.

“Fuck, this is—“

“Y-yeah—”

“So tight and hot.”

He slams his hips into you, and you moan. Your legs wrap around his thighs as he thrusts in-and-out of you in a messy, erratic rhythm. Yusuke grunts as you clench around him, his hands gripping the counter before him.

“Lie down,” he commands. You comply, leaning back until Yusuke jerks you forward, and you nearly fall backwards. He wraps your thighs around his waist, leaning forwards before pummeling into you. You gasp, your hands scrambling for purchase on the counter. For some kind of grounding. His fingers dig into your hips, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head when he hits a spot inside of you that has you clenching around himself, pleasure bursting out of you.

“F-fuck!”

The smack of your ass meeting his hips fills the air, mixed in with your whines and Yusuke’s grunts.

“M-Man, I’ve been… thinking about this since… since the day you moved into this… fancy new place,” he says, voice strained.

You laugh breathlessly, but it’s cut off by a moan. “Yusuke, y-you… you perv.”

“Wanna… wanna bend you over every single fucking surface… bet you’d like it too.” He’s fucking into you so rawly, so thoroughly, that all you can feel is every inch of him, your nerves alight with a growing fire.

“I—! Yeah.” Your words come out as gasps. You don’t think you’re physically capable of anything more. “I-I would.”

“You fucking love this cock, right? I-I want you to say it,” he grunts.

“Y-yes, Yusuke, I—I fucking love it. I want you to fuck me on every surface in this goddamn place.” You clench your eyes shut, feeling your pleasure crescendo-ing if he could just keep going at it—

He inhales sharply, his thrusts speeding up. Shakily, your hand comes between your legs to play with your clit, and it’s not long before you’re tightening around him, mewling out his name as you reach your end. With a strangled grunt, he cums as well, his release painting your thighs in thick spurts as he pulls out, jerking the last drops out.

Your legs slip from his sides, and he falls forward, nearly knocking your chin with his forehead to land face-first into your chest with a satisfied groan.

“Hey,” you mumble, exhaustion creeping into you. It was late. “Watch the goods.”

“Sorry.” He grins up at you weakly. “Wouldn’t wanna damage ‘em. ‘Specially since I like ‘em so much.”

“That’s right. Keep up the sweet talk and maybe next time… I’ll let you appraise them better.”

He laughs. “God, you’re fucking perfect. Ya’ freak. We’d probably fuck all day if you let me.”

That sounds exhausting, considering Yusuke’s stamina, but… you can’t deny that the idea appeals to you. “That can be arranged.” Your eyes are slipping shut, but you feel his head perk up, and force yourself to stay conscious. “I can take the day off from work. And you’ll have me all to yourself.”

It takes him a second to mull it over. When he speaks, his voice is uncharacteristically quiet. “You mean it? You’d take off from your fancy job?”

You hum, thinking about it yourself. “For you? Yeah. I would.”

Your eyes are slipping shut again, but you don’t stop them this time. To your surprise, you feel Yusuke’s weight leave you, and instead he’s lifting you up. You yelp, your eyes snapping open to see him carrying you, bridal style, to your room.

“Better rest up. You’re taking off work tomorrow and we’re getting breakfast first thing. My treat.”

“You’ll need it for all the activities we’re gonna be doing.” He grins cheekily.

#yusuke urameshi x reader #yyh x reader #yyh imagine #yusuke x reader #yyh thots;#tati writes

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outpostsofbabel · 2 years

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Demigods and Semi-devils, Chapter VI (XII)

Duan Yu pointed behind the Crocodile God. “One of my masters is already standing behind you.”

The man had not sensed anyone and glanced back in alarm. Duan Yu took a slanting step forward as he did so. Moving like a drifting breeze, he reached for the Crocodile God’s chest, aiming for the man’s Shanzhong Acupoint with his thumb. It was clumsily done. But Duan Yu’s body held within it the internal energy of seven Boundless Sword disciples. Even though he wasn’t actively channelling this power, it was still a considerable force.

The Crocodile God felt an obstruction in his chest, for Duan Yu’s left hand was now touching his Shenque Acupoint, just over his navel. Although there had been many acupoints listed in the scrolls containing the Divine Art of the Northern Darkness, Duan Yu had only practiced what was written about the Lung and Ren Meridians. The two acupoints he had targeted were located on the Lung Meridian.

Startled, the Crocodile God exerted his own energies to resist. Instead, he felt his energy seeping out through his Shanzhong Acupoint and his whole body getting weaker as a result. Duan Yu had picked him up and turned him upside down, so that his feet were waving in the air. When he let go, the Crocodile God’s large bald head hit the ground with a thud. Fortunately, the floor of the great hall was covered with carpets, so the Crocodile God came to no harm. He sprang to his feet with a Leaping Carp manoeuvre, grabbing at Duan Yu with his left hand.

The onlookers were completely taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. Duan Zhengchun had wanted to intervene when he saw the Crocodile God’s swift, fierce attack. But his son had taken another odd, slanting step to the left, evading his opponent’s clawing fingers with just one stride. “Incredible!” Duan Zhengchun cried. The Crocodile God chopped towards Duan Yu with his other palm. Duan Yu offered no resistance, but simply slipped aside with another two steps.

Angry and surprised that he had failed to hit Duan Yu with two moves, the Crocodile God let out a roar of rage and lunged for the boy’s midsection with both hands outstretched. They were only several feet apart and every particle of his energy had gone into the attack - his arms, his hands and even his fingertips were surging with power. In his fury, he no longer cared that the so-called future of the South Seas Clan would be torn to pieces if the blow struck true.

“Watch out!” cried four voices in unison. They belonged to the Baoding Emperor, Duan Zhengchun, the Sage of the Jade Hollow and Gao Shengtai. In two steps, Duan Yu moved lightly as a feather to stand behind the Crocodile God, landing a pat on the back of his bald head.

The Crocodile God felt as if a shadow had touched him. My life is over, he thought. But the brief contact also told him that Duan Yu’s blow had absolutely no force in it. With a hiss of breath, he had clawed five bloody streaks on the back of Duan Yu’s hand. Duan Yu had hurriedly drawn back, but the Crocodile God’s strength was far from spent. The momentum of his slash, carried forward and down, meant he left five claw marks on his own forehead.

Duan Yu had successfully dodged three attacks, making him the victor. But a sense of childish mischief had led him to smack the Crocodile God’s head in passing - a move that had very nearly resulted in him being snared by his opponent. He had no idea that his internal energies were strong by now, and even less idea of how to use them. Pale with fright, he stumbled over to hide behind his father.

The Sage glanced at her son. Well, I see. You’ve learnt this strange martial art from your uncle and father, and hidden it from me.

“Third Master Yue!” Mu Wanqing called loudly. “You couldn’t beat him with three blows, and in fact you took a nasty tumble. Hurry up and kowtow to your new master.”

The Crocodile God tugged at his ear in an awkward manner, his face red. “It doesn’t count. He didn’t even try to hit me.”

Mu Wanqing waggled her finger at him. “Aren’t you ashamed? If you don’t call Duan Yu your master, you’re a bastard son of a whore. Would you rather call him your master, or be a bastard?”

“Neither!” the Crocodile God snarled. “I want to fight him properly.”

Duan Zhengchun had not yet managed to make sense of his son’s extraordinary footwork. He said quietly: “Don’t hit him - just wait for an opportunity to target his acupoints.”

“I’m scared,” Duan Yu whispered back. “I don’t think I can do it.”

“Don’t be afraid,” Duan Zhengchun replied. “I’ll be here, taking care of everything.”

Encouraged by his father’s support, Duan Yu came out from behind his father’s back. “You couldn’t knock me over in three blows,” he said. “You have to call me master now.” The Crocodile God howled in anger, lashing out at him with his palms.

Duan Yu slipped past the blow with a light step backwards and sideways; a tea table shattered with a crack under the force of the Crocodile God’s blow. Very calmly and with great focus, he began to recite lines from the Book of Changes.

“Look at the course of one’s life - advance, retreat. When one rests, he loses all consciousness of himself. When he walks in his courtyard, he sees no one in it. The cauldron has the places of its ears changed - progress is stopped. It is not to one’s advantage to move at all. Like the ram butting against the fence, he cannot retreat, nor can he advance.”

He had stopped watching the Crocodile God entirely, but was concentrating entirely on his own footwork - moving left and right, advancing with slanting steps and retreating with regular ones. The Crocodile God was lashing out more quickly and fiercely than ever, and the hall rang with clatters, clangs and crashes as he destroyed chairs, tables, teapots and teacups. But not a single blow landed on Duan Yu’s body.

In the blink of an eye, the Crocodile God had rained more than thirty blows down on the furniture around him. Both the Baoding Emperor and the Guardian Prince of the South had realised by now that Duan Yu had only a shallow grasp of the techniques he was using. It was clear that he didn’t know any martial arts at all, but had - it seemed to them - been taught this almost-mystical footwork by a great master. Every step referenced one of the sixty-four hexagrams in the Book of Changes, but was unimaginably bizarre even so. Had Duan Yu been in a proper fight, he would have been subdued with a single blow. But instead, he chose to pace around in his own fashion. As strong as the Crocodile God was, he simply couldn’t touch him.

After a little while, the two brothers exchanged worried glances. If the Crocodile God just closes his eyes and ignores Duan Yu completely, but lashes out around him, he will no doubt hit him within seconds. But the Crocodile God’s face was turning yellow and his eyes beginning to bulge. This strategy had clearly not occurred to him, and no matter how he attacked, he always missed Duan Yu by a foot or two.

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yuckydraws · 2 years

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Yu! You know the whole thing with "Lace your fingers together, put the fingers of one hand up, and then they're grabbed by the one saying it before being pulled in close"?

Well! What if Blue, Stretch, Red, Vant, Pup and Coffee's s/o did that to them? Like, pulls them in with their hand around their waist before giving them a little smooch?

If y’all don’t know what they mean, basically S/O interlaces their fingers with the boys and traps their arms above their head, thoroughly leaving the boys pinned.

This post by @apple-duck (hope you don’t mind the tag!) is a great visualization!

Some of these got… a little suggestive so they’ll be under the cut!

•••••••••••••

Blue: He’s shocked. That’s what he wanted to do to you!!!! But… oh. You know what? This is fine. He likes this. He’ll get over his surprise and kiss you back.

Bee: He probably wouldn’t try to trick his S/O, but he’d fall for it so easily if his S/O tried it on him. When you pin him his eye-lights shrink before dilating and his face erupts in a beautiful, bright honey color. He won’t respond to the first kiss, but when you pull away in question he leans in for another.

Red: You!!!! He was!!! Okay, he can’t be too mad when you’re kissing him. He just goes with it, but he’s very flushed. He will get you back for this… watch out.

Vant: He also probably wouldn’t try to trick his S/O to do this. If he wants to pin you down, he’ll just pin you down (consensually, of course). However, if you pinned him down? Oooohhh you’re seeing a very different side of him, all flustered and quiet - no smart comments or objections. After a moment he’ll pull away from the kiss and your grip and run off (he doesn’t want you to know that he’s a big ol’ switch… well he does, but he’s worried what your reaction will be) and avoid you for a little bit.

Pup: He was hoping you’d do this. He leans into the kiss and when you pull away, he waggles his bone brows at you saying, “that’s quite the grip you got there darlin’.” Of course, he could easily get out of it if he wanted to, but he doesn’t.

Coffee: His sockets are wide and his face is flushed a marigold color when you pull away, he says “ohmystarsthatwassohot-” under his breath. He didn’t think you’d hear it, but with how you’re laughing right now… it’s safe to assume you did hear it. Goodbye now, he’s going to turtle into his hoodie.

#valacre #yucky answers #yucky yaks #yucky writes #mutuals #headcannons #undertale #underswap #us sans #us papyrus #underfell #uf sans #fellswap #fs sans #fs papyrus #fellswap gold #fsg papyrus #cw.suggestive

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besanii · 4 years

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He watches as Wei Ying backs away from him, the horror on his face twisting like a knife in his own heart as he shakes his head and reaches out a hand towards him to halt his steps. But Wei Yingflinches from his touch, the tears flowing thick and fast now, so he stops where he is and allows him to stumble out of his reach.

“Wei Ying,” he says desperately. “Wei Ying, listen to me—”

“Tell me it isn’t true,” Wei Ying begs. His eyes are red, his nose scrunched and face blotchy from struggling to hold back his tears. “Tell me what he says isn’t true, Lan Zhan. Please.”

Lan Wangji glances at the sky. They’re running out of time. They have less than an hour before the solar eclipse ends, and then it will be too late. These last twenty years of careful planning would have been for nothing. He turns back to Wei Ying, struggling to hold himself together, distraught.

“Wei Ying,” he says again. “I can explain. I promise I’ll explain. But right now, we don’t have much time—”

“No, don’t listen to him, Wei-gongzi.” Meng Yao steps out from behind a gap in the rock formations scattered about the gorge, his dark eyes glinting even as he wears an expression of concern on his face. “He’s only trying to get you to drop your guard for long enough to get what he wants. He doesn’t really care about you. He only cares about saving his lover, whose soul he planted inside your body, and the only way to do that is by killing you.”

“Be quiet!” Lan Wangji snarls, but it’s too late. Wei Ying is already regarding him with distrust, with fear…with heartbreak. “Wei Ying, don’t listen to him. Please—”

“Is he telling the truth?” he demands tearfully. When Lan Wangji hesitates, he raises his voice, panicked. “Answer me! Is he telling the truth?”

There is no reasoning with Wei Ying in this state, so Lan Wangji reins in his temper and impatience and takes a deep breath. He glares at Meng Yao where he stands just out of Wei Ying’s line of sight, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“Wei Ying,” he says as calmly as he can manage. “Someone very important to me was grievously hurt and their life in danger—the only way to save him was to send him here, to the mortal realm, to undergo three mortal trials in order to heal his soul so he can return. And you—you are him. I’m trying to save you.”

It almost works. Wei Ying’s features soften into uncertainty for a brief moment, before morphing into disbelief. Into pain. Into betrayal.

“So all this time…I’ve just been a replacement,” he says faintly. “All those times you told me you loved me, all those things you did…was because you took me for him. For your lost lover—”

“No!” Lan Wangji moves forward to take his hands, but Wei Ying shrinks even further away. His arm hangs in the air between them, helpless. “No, Wei Ying, that’s not true. I meant it all. Every word of it.”

“Is that so?” Meng Yao interjects silkily, slipping in behind Wei Ying to murmur in his ear. “Do you know who he is, Wei-gongzi? The man you call Lan Zhan doesn’t even exist. His true identity is Hanguang-jun, the God of War.”

Wei Ying sways dangerously where he stands, but before Lan Wangji can make a move to catch him, he rights himself again, holding a hand to his temple. The other hand is visibly trembling as he uses it to keep Lan Wangji at bay. His face is pale and clammy, a deep frown creasing his brow, damp with sweat.

“Hanguang-jun?” he says, voice strangled. “The God of War?”

He looks to Lan Wangji pleadingly, but Lan Wangji says nothing to refute it. There’s nothing he can say to refute it, even if he had wanted to. Guilt and shame rise in his throat like bile, but they don’t have time. The eclipse is almost over. He clenches his fists, squares his shoulders, and raises his head.

“Begone, demon,” he thunders, voice echoing around the gorge. Both Wei Ying and Meng Yao clap their hands over their ears in pain at the sound. “You will not poison his mind any further!”

Wei Ying has fallen to the ground with a whimper, his head still in his hands; mortal ears are not made to hear the voices of gods, even if the soul inside the body is an immortal one. Lan Wangji wants desperately to go to him, to ease his pain, but he must first rid him of Meng Yao’s influence. Bichen materialises before him, unsheathed and pointed directly at Meng Yao’s chest; the demon laughs, high and mocking, and claps his hands in delight.

“Yes, yes, there it is,” he laughs, “the righteous and mighty Hanguang-jun, here to rid the world of the evil demon! Look carefully, Wei-gongzi—look carefully at your beloved!”

But Wei Ying doesn’t raise his head, doesn’t spare Lan Wangji or Meng Yao a glance. He’s hunched over, kneeling on the cold ground, hands over his ears; he sobs and shakes his head, his lips moving silently over and over. The sight of his distress roots Lan Wangji to the spot, striking him through the heart like a bolt of lightning. Bichen clatters to the floor.

“Wei Ying…Wei Ying, please,” he begs, sinking down to his knees. “Wei Ying, please trust me. You have to trust me.”

Meng Yao laughs again.

“Trust you?” he says. “How can you be trusted, Hanguang-jun? You’ve been lying about your identity to his face for three years! What else have you been lying about? Your relationship? Your feelings?”

His next words are choked on a gasp as Bichen buries itself into his chest. He grins at Lan Wangji and waggles his fingers playfully at the two of them as his physical body begins to disintegrate into wisps of smoke.

“Is he even real, Hanguang-jun?”

Wei Ying goes very still. The last piece of Meng Yao fades, the ghost of a menacing grin accompanied by his chilling, mocking laughter carried through the gorge on the smoky remains of his corporeal body.

Lan Wangji’s heart drops to his stomach. He staggers forward and falls to his knees in front of him, every fibre of his being screaming to take him in his arms and shield him from Meng Yao’s cruel words, but he can’t. Not when Wei Ying continues to shy from his touch. Not even if the flicker of flame in his chest threatens to shatter from the pain.

He clenches his jaw against the pain. The flame spirit is weakening with every passing moment, and once it goes out his body will return to its frozen stasis without his heart. But he can’t do that until the soul inside Wei Ying’s body—until Wei Ying reascends. He needs to get Wei Ying’s trust, needs Wei Ying to see—they’re running out of time.

“Wei Ying,” he tries again, his hands hovering over his shoulders, aching to touch. “My name is Lan Wangji. I am also Hanguang-jun, the God of War. I do have an older brother—his name is Lan Xichen, but you would know him better as Zewu-zun, the God of Medicine and Healing.

“I made a promise to watch over you, to protect you, but I couldn’t protect you from the people who wanted to destroy you for something that wasn’t your fault—so we devised a plan to send you here to the mortal realm to protect you from them until you were strong enough to return. This is the last trial. After this, it will all be over. They won’t be able to hurt you anymore. You’ll be immortal again—”

“But I won’t be me, will I?” Wei Ying says softly. He lifts his head from his hands, staring down at them like he’s seeing them for the very first time. “I won’t be Wei Ying. Or have I always been just a doppelganger, an empty vessel that only exists to serve its purpose and then discarded? Is my life here even real? My family? My friends?”

“Of course you’re real,” Lan Wangji replies, aghast. “Wei Ying, you’re real. Everything here is real. All of it.”

Wei Ying looks at him then, his eyes haunted by doubt and sorrow.

“Did you ever love me?” he asks. “Not him. Me. Wei Ying. Did you ever love me for me? Or was it because I’m him?”

Wei Ying. Bright, beautiful Wei Ying who had suffered so many hardships in his short life and still smiled with so much joy. Who had taken him in without a second thought when he had thought him in danger, had done his best to nurse him back to health despite his being a perfect stranger. Who had forged a life of his own, and who just wanted to be loved.

If only we could be like this forever, he had thought fondly only last night as he pressed a kiss to Wei Ying’s forehead. Just Wei Ying and Lan Zhan.

The words die on his tongue. The hesitation is answer enough.

Wei Ying laughs, brittle, hard, wounded.

“You must love him a lot, to be willing to do so much for him,” he says bitterly. “He must be an amazing person to be loved by you.”

“Wei Ying…” Lan Wangji starts. He trails off, unsure of what to say. “I—”

Wei Ying shakes his head and holds up a hand to stay his words.

“Don’t say anything.” Lan Wangji closes his mouth immediately. “I have no way of knowing if anything you’ve ever told me about yourself is real. I don’t know if what you’re tell me right now is real. But I know that Wei Ying is real. Everyone I know here: Jiang-shushu, Yu-furen, Jiang Cheng, Shijie. All of them are real. This life is real. Everything inside me tells me it’s real. I know it in my soul.”

He looks up at Lan Wangji then, his eyes brittle and anguished. He’s so beautiful, even now. The shame and guilt of what he’s about to do, the selfishness of his own decisions, wages war with the anxiety inside Lan Wangji. But they don’t have time. It must be obvious, because Wei Ying shakes his head and exhales.

“I don’t know if you love Wei Ying,” he says, his voice cracking. “But I know you love him. And I know I love you. So whatever you need from me that will save him…you can take it. Just take it.”

He reaches out and takes Lan Wangji’s head between his hands, presses their foreheads together and stares deep into his eyes. In them, Lan Wangji sees an infinite amount of sorrow, resignation…and love. Pain lances through his chest at the sight, the flame spirit sitting in place of his heart flaring painfully in response. He gasps around it, tears burning in his eyes.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying murmurs into the space between them. “If the whole purpose of my life is to die here today, then that is what I’ll do. But I want you to promise me something.”

He takes a deep breath and traces Lan Wangji’s cheekbone with his thumb, tears spilling down his own.

“When you and your lover reunite, I want you to remember. The person you spent three years with here in the mortal realm, who nursed you back to health and who agreed to marry you—was Wei Ying. Not anyone else. It was Wei Ying. Don’t you dare get us confused.”

He pulls back before Lan Wangji can react, ignoring the aborted noise of protest he makes. He smiles, but it’s lopsided and wobbly at the corners despite the determination in his eyes.

“Do it,” he says, and turns his back on him.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji chokes, his throat constricting. “I—I’m…Wei Ying—”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says softly. “Please. Just do it.”

Above them, the sun is starting to peek out from behind the shadows. The eclipse is almost over. They don’t have much time left—

“Wei Ying,” he says again, tears obscuring his vision until Wei Ying is just a hazy blur before him. He blinks them back and raises his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry—”

Wei Ying bows his head and weeps.

—

Wen Ning looks up at the flash that erupts from the cauldron in the centre of the talisman array. A phoenix burst forth with a shriek, the tips of its fiery wings reaching to the furthest edges of the vast chamber; it circles around twice, drowning the entire place in blazing heat, before slowing down and shedding the flames as it lands.

A tall young man draped in black and red emerges from the fire. He turns to Wen Ning, down on one knee, and regards him with blank, grey eyes.

“Congratulations on your successful ascension,” Wen Ning says, bowing his head. “Wei Wuxian-shangshen.”

Notes:

shangshen (上神) - High God

Based on Love and Destiny (三生三世宸汐缘), where Jiu Chen, the God of War, sends Linxi (a vermilion bird spirit) down into the mortal realm to cleanse her soul of the dark energy that had been imbued into it from when she was a baby, and she returns from it in her true form as a phoenix.

#mdzs #wangxian #angst prompt meme #love and destiny au #my writing #phoenix!wwx #dragon!lwj #character death #also kind of reincarnation #🔪🔪🔪🔪#meng yao is here #being a demon #trying to sow discord #and there is a lot of pain #but then WWX returns #there is a happy ending to the story #but i got stuck writing itand this is the only part that's available LMAO #shifting ground fic

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Riding On

Ch 18-Home Run

Summary: Frank’s competitive side comes out to play during an event at Mary’s school, and then he and Fliss get their first child free evening in well over 6 months.

Warnings: Bad Language words, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Special thanks to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork for her little drabble which was posted as part of her Birthday Celebrations which I used in here.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 17

Taking more than her share, had me fighting for air, she told me to come, but I was already there 'Cause the walls start shaking, the Earth was quaking, my mind was aching and we were making it. And you shook me all night long, yeah, you shook me all night long

February 2020

Fliss watched as Frank adjusted the blue Red Sox hat on his head slightly, the baseball bat hanging loosely in one hand before he took up position, turning slightly to the side, his long fingers curling around the handle.

"Five bucks says he misses..." Bill spoke and Fliss gave him a dig in the ribs.

"No chance Poppa B" Mary laughed from where she stood in front of Fliss "Frank's got a wicked swing."

Fliss saw Frank who was laughing at something that one of the school teachers who was current performing the role of catcher before his face suddenly warped into one of utter concentrate as the pitcher wound up. Sure enough, a second or so later Frank swung the bat forward and with a satisfying cracking sound he connected with the baseball and set off at a sprint. Fliss and Mary cheered along with the rest of the crowd who had gathered to watch and Frank rounded first base, then onto second as the other guy positioned there had also started to make his way home. Frank made it to 3rd easily, and then Fliss spotted the expression on his face change as he glanced around and set off at a sprint clearly going for home. The gathered crowd started to yell as the ball came flying in towards the catcher but Frank was there just that little bit faster, dropping into a slide and his boot hit the little square marked out as home before the ball. He jumped up, a huge grin on his face as the other parents on the team all cheered and congratulated him, various other yells ringing out around the little playing field, Fliss, Mary, Bill and Verity joining in.

"Told ya!" Mary shouted as she jumped up and down. "Home run!"

Fliss looked up at her dad who was chuckling as he watched Frank who was now doubled over, hands on his knees, catching his breath. He wiped at his dirty jeans, which were covered in the orange dust from the school playing field and glanced over towards them, shrugging playfully.

"Well considering he said he would rather stick hot pins in his eyes than play in the Staff v Parents game he looks like he's enjoying himself." Bonnie grinned as she gently placed a hand on Fliss shoulder, leaning over to pull a face at Alex. The 6 month old baby grinned and waggled his arms furiously letting out a loud giggle, a stream of drool trickled down his chin and Fliss wiped it away with the bib round his neck.

"Well Mary called him a chicken." Fliss snorted, gently running a hand down Alex's flushed cheek, thankful he seemed to be in a temporary respite from his teething pain. "Said he was only refusing to take part because he was scared he wasn't good enough. And let's face it, he's not one to back down from a challenge is he?"

Bonnie laughed and then someone called her away. Apologising she headed off and the family turned their attention back to the game. It finished about 20 minutes or so later when the last batter was caught out, but it didn't matter as the Parents had won anyway. They all let out a little cheer, before the two teams congratulated one another and dispersed, Frank making his way back over to where his family was stood. He chuckled as Mary ran towards him and he swung her up with a little huff and she tipped his hat back to look at him.

"You're all sweaty." She pulled a face and Frank rolled his eyes as he set her down.

"Yeah, well it’s in the 70s and I've been running." He shrugged, dropping a kiss to Fliss' cheek.

"Hey babe...Ruth. She teased and Frank chuckled before he smiled at his baby boy.

"How's he feeling?"

"He seems OK." Fliss shrugged, looking at him. "Mind you, I've not tried putting him down yet since he stopped crying."

"Let me take him for a bit." Frank said and Fliss passed him over, Alex immediately reached up for his cap. Frank jerked his head out of the way and Alex let out a noise of protest until Fliss handed him his teething ring from his buggy. They baby grabbed it and instantly jammed it into his mouth, chomping away whilst babbling to no one in particular. Frank dropped a kiss to his head as they walked over the field, making their way to the little refreshment tent where a few if the other parents all turned and cheered as Frank walked in. He grinned, flushing a little at the attention and nodded to Rosie's mom and dad as they wandered over to talk to them. Fliss glanced around and caught the eye of one of the other moms who she recognised as being the one who'd been chatting shit about Frank and Mary last June. She narrowed her eyes a little, staring the bitch out and the other woman hastily averted her gaze and making Fliss smirk.

"Stop it." Frank warned in her ear and she turned to look at him, her best innocent expression in her face.

"Stop what?"

"You know full well what." He arched an eyebrow and Fliss shrugged.

"She's a bitch." she offered as justification and Frank merely rolled his eyes, adjusting Alex slightly in his arms, turning the baby so his back was pressed to his chest, one strong arm under his butt, the other hand pressed over his little belly so they small boy could look round the tent. He waggled his arms and legs excitedly as he saw Bonnie who waved her fingers towards him and smiled as she passed with a box in her arms, heading towards the small table set out at the front.

The rest of the gala passed fairly quickly. It had been pulled together as a way for teachers and parents to bond, a little bit of fun one Friday afternoon in February. And according to the Principal as she spoke, it was going to be a yearly thing from now on. The Staff V Parents Baseball Trophy was handed to the captain of the parents’ team, a tall dark haired man whose daughter was in first grade who grinned and teased the staff members about how good it would look in the cabinet in the entrance hall with the word Parents engraved on the plate for at least the next 12 months, and then there were a few individual trophies handed out. One for best catch which went to the 3rd grade tutor, best display of acrobatics which went to Rosie's dad for his specular trip over his own feet as he ran to 3rd base, most animated player which went to the school's janitor who had been ferociously rallying his team all afternoon and then finally the Top Slugger trophy which to Fliss' delight was awarded to Frank for his absolute peach of a hit and home run. Frank let out a little groan as his name was called and everyone in the tent turned to face him. He accepted his trophy with one hand, Alex still held easily to his chest with the other and declined to say much other than he'd had fun and it has been a nice afternoon, thanking everyone who has organised the day, before cheekily quipping it was about time Bonnie did some actual work, which earned him a slap upside the head when she was walking past him later.

Eventually it was time to leave and they made their way back to the cars. Mary retrieved her stuff from Frank's truck, handing it to Bill who tossed it into his Range Rover before Frank then handed Bill a changing bag for Alex as Fliss picked him up from the stroller so Bill could collapse it.

"Sure you don't mind dropping Mary off at Roberta’s?" Frank asked as Bill popped the stroller into the trunk and closed it.

"Not at all, it's on the way." Bill smiled watching Mary give Fliss a hug goodbye before she turned and did the same to Frank.

"Behave." He said sternly and she rolled her eyes.

"I always do."

"Huh must be just us you're a pain in the ass for." Frank shrugged, earning him a little dig in the stomach from Mary. He huffed a breath, grinning as she clambered into the back of the car.

"One down...one to go." Bill muttered to where Fliss was holding Alex to her, gently kissing his head.

"Yeah and something tells me this one's gonna be a little more awkward to get in your car." Frank sighed and Bill chuckled. Frank turned to him "I know I don’t need to ask but..."

"He'll be fine." Bill smiled "travel cot and baby monitor all set up."

Frank gave a nod as Bill clapped him on the shoulder and they both turned to Fliss who was now talking to her mother in a worried tone as Alex was starting to grumble.

"You know, I'm not sure..."

"Stop. Now." Verity looked at Fliss, giving her a significant look and Fliss knew why. Her mom and dad taking Alex overnight was a trial run for a few weeks’ time when she was planning to take Frank away for the weekend as a birthday gift. It was more a trial run for her than Alex, mind, as she was still ridiculously clingy to him, a fact she knew and was actively trying to get over.

"He's teething Fliss, not dying." Bill looked at her.

"I know that" Fliss replied hotly "but he's a little grouchy and he's in pain..."

“So we'll dose him up with medicine, give him cuddles and let him sleep." Verity responded simply.

"Love, we've done this before remember? And we had 2 of them with Charlie and Joel." Bill chuckled as Fliss chewed on her lip.

"But what if he won't settle? I mean he's only just cut his first one and..."

"Honey, we're 15 minutes away." Frank soothed.

“Yup, any issues we'll call and bring him straight back." Verity nodded. Frank looked at Bill who gave him a small wink which he understood perfectly. There was no way Alex was coming back tonight, even if he was grouchy. Frank knew Bill and V would just take it in their stride to give them their first child free night in well over 6 months.

Fliss took a deep breath and nodded. "Ok, I know I'm flapping...I'm sorry..."

She moved to the car and gently placed him in the car seat before Frank stepped forward to take it from their truck to Bill's. Once it was secured, he dropped a kiss to his head and moved so Fliss could so the same.

She stepped back, closing the door and Frank gently pulled her right hand away from her left where it had begun to worry at the knuckles, the way she always did when she was a little panicked. He laced his fingers with hers, thumb gently stroking the back of her hand in slow, comforting arcs, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Ok, we'll see you tomorrow." Bill smiled as he opened the driver’s side door. "And try to enjoy your night alone yeah? Ill permit one text an hour to check up otherwise I'll sever all communication."

Fliss rolled her eyes but stayed silent. Frank didn't miss the way her fingers squeezed around his as they waved goodbye to Bill's car as it pulled out of the space next to theirs.

"So, what do you-" Frank stopped dead as he looked down at Fliss who has just burst into tears. "-oh honey!" He chuckled, as she pressed her face into his t-shirt, his arms wrapping around her, gently rubbing her back over her pale blue top.

"I know I’m being stupid but I can't help it." She sobbed "He's my baby Frank and he has a sore mouth and he's been all grouchy and..."

"Yes he is, yes he does, and yes he has." Frank pulled back, cupping her face in his hands, wiping her tears away with his thumbs "But your mom and dad will be fine. The last few nights after his feed and some Orajel he's settled right down, and if he doesn't they've got the Tylenol. He'll be fine, I promise."

Fliss nodded and Frank dipped his head, giving her a soft kiss. "Now, we got the rest of the afternoon and the entire night to ourselves...and dare I say it a lie in tomorrow morning." He grinned, turning to open the passenger door for her. "Do you wanna go out for a few drinks or..."

Fliss wrinkled her nose "is it bad I just wanna do nothing?" Frank laughed as Fliss shrugged "I mean I have a book that I haven't opened in like a week, I've got a bottle of pinot in the fridge..."

"So you wanna curl up on the window seat and not be disturbed?" Frank arched his eyebrow.

"Well, not all night." Fliss shook her head "but maybe for an hour or so when I finish the yard."

"Ok, well, let's make a deal." Frank's hand dropped to her hips "We take our own time till say 7 ish and then sit down for dinner and a movie."

"Oh my god, perfect" Fliss groaned. Frank shook his head as he snorted.

"When did we get so pathetic that we get our first child free evening in 6 months and you're gonna spend it reading about some lame ass British Detective and I'm gonna be screwing with boat parts?"

"Ok first off there is nothing pathetic about Detective Super Intendant Roy Grace and second off...will you be greasy?"

Frank's head fell back as a loud rumble of laughter erupted from his chest. When he looked back at Fliss she shrugged and he arched an eyebrow.

"You're terrible, you know that?"

"Not my fault you're such a dirty boat daddy."

"Dirty boat daddy?" Frank scoffed as he raised an eyebrow. "What the fuck..."

Fliss grinned as she traced Frank's bicep with the fingers of her right hand "You're my baby daddy...and you get dirty on boats..."

"You don't half talk some shit at times." He snorted and Fliss poked her tongue out, catching it between her teeth as she smiled.

"You love it."

"I love you." He bent down pressing his lips to hers before he stepped back "Now come on, I got some grease to smear up my arms."

"Can you wipe some on your face too?" Fliss asked as the climbed in the truck. Frank merely rolled his eyes with a smirk in response.

****

Fliss stretched her legs out as she reached the end of her chapter, Thor giving a little annoyed huff as she jostled his head from where it was laying in her lap as they sat curled up, snuggled into the cushions on the large window seat.

"Sorry boy." She chuckled, scratching behind his ears as she glanced outside over the garden. It was dark out, the various garden lights strung up on the fence illuminated the panels which separated their private space to the large garden that belonged to the next house along. They’d really lucked out on this property. The house itself was set into almost 2 acres of land, and not to mention the 8 that now belonged to Sandybrook Stables after they’d purchased the additional 3 at the back. Which reminded Fliss, she really should get the architect onto the re-design.

Reaching for her phone she gave a yelp as she realised what time it was. Almost 8pm. They’d gone well over an hour later than they’d agreed, and given that there was no sign of Frank, he too had clearly forgotten. She stood up, fired her mum a quick message and then called their favourite Italian, ringing through an order for delivery. The guy on the phone was apologetic, saying it would be at least 45 minutes before it arrived but Fliss assured him it was no bother. No sooner had she put the phone down than her mom sent her a message back which was a picture of Alex fast asleep in the crib at her parents, his little cheeks still slightly red, but he looked peaceful. Satisfied everything was ok, she bit her lip before she smiled to herself and pulled open the fridge, tossing a 6 pack into a cool box. Instructing Thor to stay she headed out the back door and round the side of the pool and out of the garden onto the main front area. The garage door was open, the light from inside streaming onto the gravel driveway and the low tones of AC/DC hit her ears as she approached along with Frank’s curses.

The reason for his cursing was simple. No matter how much digging into the boats engine, or twisting his hand at impossible angles, the mother fucking part still wouldn’t come out. Snarling in frustration, he yanked his hand out, and grabbed a wrench, hitting the metal against it, cursing “You son of a bitch, you’re coming out of there whether ya wa like it or not. I’ve been fahking with you all God damn night!”

Fliss climbed the ladder next to the boat and snorted as she set down the cooler on the boards of the deck, arching a brow. It wasn’t often that Frank lost his cool, but when he did, he usually turned a bit Boston.

“You alright Sailor or should I be worried?” she spoke, perching on the edge. Frank fell back on his heels, grabbing a rag to wipe at his grease-covered hands and looked round at her, his brow beaded with sweat.

“If you got a beer in that cooler there, then you got nothing to worry about.” His eyes were hopeful and Fliss leaned forward, popping open the top and drawing out the six-pack. Smiling, Frank pushed himself to a stand and took one, removing the cap and draining a good third of it in one go. “Confirmed, nothing to worry about now Cowgirl!”

Fliss grabbed herself a beer and watched as Frank stepped closer, his hands resting either side of her thighs as she sat perched on the edge of the hull. “You get bored reading already?”

“Well I’d read enough anyway, but then realised the time. Baby its gone 8.”

“Seriously?” Frank frowned and then sighed as Fliss nodded. “Shit, sorry, I lost track o’time.”

“It’s ok, I did the same.” Fliss shrugged “Guess a child free few hours really is a treat.”

Frank smiled softly “We should probably order dinner.

Fliss smirked “Already done, we got like…40 mintues.” she wrapped her hands around Frank’s neck and tugged him closer.

“Whoa whoa baby, I’m covered in shit.” He gave a laugh as he protested slightly.

Rolling her eyes, she snorted. “No, if you were covered in shit, it would be because I worked you for a day at the stables. You Frank…” Her voice lowered, and her eyes turned hooded, leaning up to his lips, whispering against them. “You are covered in grease, and that makes me so unbelievably hot for you, that if you don’t fuck me on this deck, I won’t forgive you.”

“Enough said, consider yourself fucked on deck Baby,” Frank smirked, catching Fliss’ lips. At that point the music changed and flicked over from Whole Lotta Rosie to You Shook Me All Night Long, Frank’s favourite song and he smirked against her mouth as he began to sing the first verse, all the time keeping his lips a mere centimetre or so away from hers.

“She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I ever seen, she had the sightless eyes, telling me no lies, knocking me out with those American thighs…”

“Err British thighs, thank you.” Fliss corrected him. Frank simply arched an eyebrow and pulled her easily off the edge of the boat she was leaning against. She giggled as she wrapped her legs around his slim waist, leaning in to press her lips to his in a slow kiss as he walked them over to the benches at the rear of the boat. The kiss remained soft, teasing licks, a slow pace, but it was no less intense than a furious one, if anything it felt more powerful than normal, the pair of them truly alone for the first time in months. With each steady, deliberate tangle of their tongues, Fliss could feel everything. The heat, the spark, the butterflies swarming inside of her stomach.

In an easy, graceful moment Frank turned and sat on the edge of the bench, his hands letting go of Fliss’ hips as she straddled him, reaching up to cup the sides of her face, holding her still while his mouth had its way with hers. Pulling back a little he softly bit her lip, drawing a groan from her mouth and he grinned, resting his forehead against hers.

“What the fuck was in that book you were reading?” he asked and Fliss laughed

“Rape, murder…” she pondered, before she grinned wickedly “A police man in a uniform with handcuffs…”

“So is it the Uniform or the handcuffs that have got you all worked up Pretty Girl?”

“Neither, it’s the dirty, boat Daddy that I’m currently straddling”

At that Frank tipped his head back in a loud laugh, his hands brushing Fliss’ hair back off her face. “I fahkin love you.” he chuckled, as she pressed her lips to his again.

“Good job.” She mumbled against his mouth “Seeing as you’re the father of my kids…and you’re marrying me.” She added as somewhat of an afterthought.

Kids. Plural.

Frank glanced at her, her eyes shining against the lights of the garage and he smiled softly, his chest tightening a little with emotion. Mary’s adoption had only been finalised a few weeks prior, the ink probably still wet on all the documents but in their mind it had been a done deal months ago, from the moment they’d made the decision. Still, it stirred all kinds of warm feelings in his chest when he heard her say it. She smiled, reaching up to brush her hands through the longer strands of hair on his head before her fingers delicately danced down over his shoulders, his strong arms before she gripped at the hem of his T-shirt. He raised his arms allowing her to pull it off, before she dropped her head and chained open mouthed, warm kisses across his collar bone.

Happy to let her take charge for a moment, Frank tipped his head back sighing as she nipped up his neck to his jaw, her mouth skating over the stubble of his beard before she met his mouth again and this time the kiss was fierce. In a flash, Frank fisted his hand in the loose t-shirt she was wearing, yanking it over her head, giving a soft groan as he realised she was wearing no bra. His large hands spread over her back, pulling her snug against his chest, his fingers sliding up and down her spine causing her to shiver a little, letting out a soft moan that morphed into that oh so familiar whimper he knew and loved.

“I could listen to you make that sound for days,” he muttered and Fliss smiled against his mouth, kissing him again. A few seconds later, deciding to push things a little as Fliss seemed to be in a demanding mood, Frank pulled back, his bright blue eyes almost icy with intensity and issued a single word instruction. “Strip” Fliss felt her stomach bottom out with excitement when his demand registered. She swallowed and stood between his legs, slipping down the shorts she was wearing, Frank’s eyes watching her as she then slid down her panties, her gaze never once leaving his face. When he finished looking her up and down as she stood naked in front of him, his eyes met hers a look of pure, unadulterated wonderment and appreciation on his face.

And it was all for her.

“Like what you see sailor?” she bit her lip, her skin tingling with excitement as Frank arched an eyebrow.

“Like you wouldn’t believe…” his hands reached out and grabbed her hips as he stood up, pivoting them so that the back of Fliss’ legs pressed against the bench he had been sat on. His hands slid up, thumbs brushing the underneath of her breasts as he kissed her once more, softly, before he pulled back, his lips gently sucking at that spot on her delicate neck, his teeth nipping at her skin.

“Wanna turn around and get on your knees for me baby girl?” he whispered his question. Fliss looked at him, wide eyed, and he noted that where there had at one time been a slight apprehension in those deep browns at being put in such a position, now there was nothing but excitement, and he wasn’t quite sure when that had changed. But it had, and he loved it. He loved the fact she trusted him, that she was happy to simply be pliant in his hands. She nodded and turned, kneeling on the bench in front of him, bending over, gripping the back with her hands. Frank reached out, gently manoeuvring so she was positioned where he wanted her to be and then stepped back, biting back the groan that bubbled in his throat at the site of her there, ready and waiting.

Fliss’ head was spinning. She couldn’t see him, but could feel him behind her. He wasn’t touching her yet, but he didn’t have to. Just the fact she could feel the heat of his gaze and his presence was enough to send her into a freefall. Every inch of her skin felt like it was on fire, the ache between her legs intensifying with each passing second. Then she heard a soft thud—Frank dropping to his knees, she assumed, but the gentle press of his mouth to the inside of her left thigh was still a shock, even though she knew it was coming. She inhaled sharply and Frank paused, his hands sliding up the outside of her thighs.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice low with desire. “Yeah.” Fliss’ breath was equally loaded and she let out a sigh as his mouth traced a line of kisses up her thigh, then he moved to do the same to the inside of her right. Her eyes closed, Fliss breathed in slowly in an attempt to steady herself, to stay calm and collected. She was ridiculously close already and his mouth hadn’t even touched that part of her body yet. When his tongue finally made contact, she lost all semblance of cool. Her eyes flew open and she let out a loud cry as the tip of his tongue swirled against her made. It was mere seconds but she was already panting, her hands curling around the back of the bench, the feel of his beard scratching against her was almost too much. Frank fucking her with his mouth, from behind, on the deck of the boat, in their garage was the single hottest thing she had ever experienced, and she wanted it to last as long as possible. Frank however, seemed to have other ideas. Whilst he kept the slow, steady rhythm with ease, he let out a low hum, something he knew would send her wild.

“Fuck,” she whined. “Frank, I…” His tongue swirled faster, his hands gripping the outside of her thighs tightly as she felt the pressure inside her turn white hot. When he slipped his finger inside her she gasped, his mouth matching every gentle but firm thrust his hand made. It all resulted in a sensation so heavenly, it was agonizing and it spread from between her legs to the farthest reaches of her body, until she could take it no more. With a loud cry she came, hard, pushing back onto his face and her knees buckled slightly, her hand slipping on the wooden rail of the bench, her body and mind completely gone. Frank stood up, giving her a moment as he quickly shed his jeans and boxers before his hands gripped her hips and he bent over to kiss her neck. “You good?” he asked and she gave a hum of satisfaction as she turned her head to look at him, her brown eyes meeting his as she nodded. “Jesus Frank…” she stuttered and he smirked, his grin slipping slightly as she reached back and gripped him in her hand, a choked little grunt escaping his own mouth as her palm tightened around his now throbbing cock. His hands dropped to her hips and he pulled her backwards and up slightly, manoeuvring her so she was exactly where he needed and with smooth, fluid thrust forward he slid slowly into her, the deliberate languid pace allowing her to feel every glorious inch of him. “Lissy,” he growled, and that was the last word he uttered as he thrust into her over, and over, screams and cries and grunts filling the air in the large garage, echoing slightly off the walls. As his hands tightened on her hips, Fliss knew he was close and so was she. He let go with his right hand, dropping it round between her legs to palm her clit and the warm press of his hand combined with the steady rhythm of his thrusts sent Fliss over the edge again and just as a low growl ripped from Frank’s throat, orgasm number two spiked through her. Only this time when she lost it, she was a complete mess. Every single muscle in her body cramped and quivered as she tensed in front of Frank, bucking violently until she sagged forward, her sailor’s arms wrapping around her as he gave a few more deep thrusts before he shuddered, his arms tightening their hold and he groaned loudly, his hips faltering as he came with a surge that brewed right from his feet. They both remained still for a second until Frank slowly and gently pulled away. He pressed his lips to Fliss’ lower back, showering her in gentle kisses, as he made his way up her spine before he reached the crook of her shoulder. Fliss’s eyes were still closed but her face sported a sated smile as she let out a hum of satisfaction. Picking her up, Frank sat down on the bench so she was cradled in his lap, reaching for the tartan blanket that was draped over the seat a few down and he wrapped it around them both, kissing her hair line.

“Suppose that’s one way to christen the boat.” She eventually spoke and Frank chuckled.

"God bless the good lady Felicity...and all who sail in her." He retorted, giving a little salute. Fliss snorted and slapped his arm.

“You’re such a wanker.” She shook her head and Frank laughed, kissing her gently”

“You love it, honey.” “No, I love you. Which means I put up with all your wanker-ish traits because I have no choice.”

****

Once Frank had showered he made his way downstairs dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and t-shirt. Fliss had already laid the take-out boxes on the counter so he parked himself down on one of the stools as Fliss handed him a beer, taking a glass of wine for herself. They talked as they ate, Fliss teasing Frank about getting him a display cabinet for his baseball trophy to which he snorted and told her he wasn't intending on making it a habit. Once they'd finished their food, they cleared the dishes and Frank made his way to the sofa whilst Fliss let Thor out into the yard as he was pawing at the door.

Frank absentmindedly flicked through the news channels, pausing at a report on Trump's latest activity and the reaction to a stupid tweet he had made regarding guns and he shook his head, scoffing in disgust.

"I dont know why you watch anything about him." Fliss called as she shut the door "it just winds you up."

"His brain is a fucking scribble" Frank retorted, "I mean...just look at him Fliss!"

"I'd rather not!" She called back, shooing Fred down from where he had hopped up onto the kitchen counter.

"President of the free world and he's an absolute tool." Frank continued his chunnering as he stretched out, his legs on the coffee table and his arms extending quite forcefully behind his head as he yawned. Unfortunately, Fliss had chosen that exact moment to cross the room ready to wrap her arms around him from behind and as she bent to do so the back of Frank's closed left fist connected with the top of her left cheekbone, just in the outside corner of her eye, and she gave a yelp of surprise. As soon as it happened Frank jerked his head round and as he saw Fliss recoiling from the accidental blow his blood ran cold.

"Shit..." he sprang over the back of the couch, ignoring Thor who was now growling furiously at him. "Oh my god, Lissy, I'm so fahkin' sorry..."

She straightened up blinking, her hands falling to his biceps as he gently cradled her face. "Frank its fine, you just caught my eye a little that’s all, it won't even bruise."

"Well, maybe not but..."

"Did you-Thor!" Fliss yelled at the dog, turning to look at him "Stop!" The German shepherd fell silent and flopped his butt down on the floor, his dark amber eyes still fixed on Frank, as Fliss turned back to him. "Did you mean to do it?"

"No, of course not..."

"Then there you go. It was an accident." She smiled, "it wasn't even hard enough to bruise, trust me, I know."

"That's not funny." Frank said quietly and Fliss sighed.

"It wasn't meant to be." She shook her head as Frank's eyes roved her face, utter dismay across every inch of his own. "Frankie..."

"Baby, I'm so..."

"Stop apologising." She said softly "it was an accident. Nothing more." Frank looked at her again before she stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. "Please don't."

"Don't what?" He asked

"Worry that you've hurt me, or scared me. Because you haven't." She shook her head "would you be this bothered if I didn't have the history I did?"

Frank hesitated. Of course he'd be bothered about hitting his girl, regardless of it being accidentally, but she was right. He wouldn't feel the concern he did has she not been subjected to the abuse she had suffered previously. He gave a little sheepish shrug and Fliss shook her head again, smiling.

"I'm not made of glass Sailor, I'm not gonna shatter over something like this. Not anymore." She took his hand in hers, pressed a kiss to his knuckles and then let go. Frank dropped it to his side, curling both hands on her hips as her arms slid up round his neck. "Can we forget this now and snuggle up with a movie?"

Frank nodded "ok, sounds good..."

After a little deliberation and poking around the channels Fliss’ eyes lit up when she realised that one of the channels was now dedicated to James Bond, the next movie showing being Skyfall, one of her favourites. However, fifteen minutes in Frank felt her head growing heavy against his chest as they lay sprawled on the sofa. He glanced down to see her eyes closed, her lids fluttering slightly, lashes laying against her cheeks as she slept. With a smile he pressed a kiss to her head, his hand gently resting around her back as she lay snuggled into him. It can’t have been much more than twenty minutes later when he too felt his eyes growing heavy, the exertion of the day finally getting to much for him and he nodded off, both of them waking with a jolt when the music for the end credits kicked in and Fred hopped up onto the back of the sofa before landing on Frank’s chest by Fliss’ head with a loud purr.

“Jesus Fred…” Frank grumbled, pushing him off as Fliss sat up, blinking. “Fucking one eyed bastard.”

Fred glared at him and slunk off, jumping up onto the armchair where he curled up, his tail flicking.

“What a rock and roll lifestyle we lead.” Fliss stretched slightly as she yawned and Frank shrugged.

“Well we had a busy day.” “Even busier evening.” She quipped and Frank chuckled, his hand rubbing at her back before she stood up, her hands rubbing at her eyes. With a heave Frank swung his legs off the couch and he too stood, pulling his girl into a hug.

“You go up, I’ll sort Thor check the doors.”

She gave him a quick peck and then left him to it, padding tiredly up the stairs. She headed into the bathroom to clean her teeth and was just climbing in between the soft sheets when Frank walked into the room, Thor behind him, the dog flopping down with a sigh into his basket. Fliss’ eyes fell to the empty bassinet and she suddenly felt a little pang for her missing baby, but she knew from the various texts and the conversation she’d had with her parents earlier that he was perfectly fine so she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

It wasn’t long before Frank joined her in bed and she shuffled over to him, tossing her leg over his as he kissed her forehead, his hand sliding up the back of her sleep cami, palm warm against her skin.

“Love you.” He yawned and she smiled.

“Love you too.” She sighed contentedly, her eyes closing as they both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

*****

Frank woke the next morning to an empty bed. With a stretch he rubbed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Of course it would be too much to hope Fliss would be able to lay in. And then he turned over to check the time and did a double take. It was almost 10 am.

“Fuck!” he gave a little chuckle. Guess he’d been a lot more tired than he thought. Swinging his legs out of bed he padded into the bathroom, sorted his bladder out and went about the rest of his normal morning routine before he grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of sweats and headed downstairs. He paused in the doorway to the large family area, watching as she was stood at the stove, dressed in one of his button downs. It skimmed the curve of her ass, ending in the middle of her thighs and he smiled as he watched her move. He couldn’t quite remember the last time he saw her like this in the kitchen, it was certainly before Alex was born, most likely on one of their kid free Friday nights that had abruptly halted when he’d arrived, not that Frank would change a thing about it mind, but it was still nice to have it back, even it if was just for one morning.

He thought back to the first time he saw her dressed in one of his shirts. It was a Saturday in his old apartment, not long after they'd started dating. He found her in the kitchen much like she was now, making a coffee having woken early and not wanted to disturb him. He remembered thinking it was the first time a woman had ever done that, made herself at home, because in fairness she was the only woman that had lasted longer than a night in 8 years. It had stirred something in him then, a feeling of contentment, much like the one he was feeling now. His life had changed dramatically since she’d walked into it approximately 2 and a half years or so. In some ways the time had flown by, in others it felt like a life time when he considered everything they’d been through, both of them so far from the people they had been, yet so similar too.

With a smile he stepped into the room and walked over to her, and the fact she didn’t jump when he wrapped his arms aroud her from behind told him she’d been well aware of his presence in the doorway for a while.

“I thought we were supposed to be having a lazy morning complete with lie in” Frank’s hand gently brushed Fliss’ wild locks off her neck before he pressed a kiss to her skin

“I did.” Fliss smiled “I didn’t wake up until 8:30. Normally your son has me up at 6.”

“Our son.”

“When he wakes me up at 6 am he’s your son.” She turned her head to glance at him. “Dad’s gonna collect Mary and drop them both off at half past midday ish.”

“Well then, you really could have stayed in bed.” He pouted and she chuckled.

“Once I’m awake I’m awake…” she shrugged “No point staying there.”

“You should’a woken me up, I could’a given you a good reason to stay put.” His lips pressed more kisses to her neck and Fliss laughed, swatting at his head playfully.

“I’ll burn breakfast.”

“So?”

“I’m hungry.”

“So am I.”

“I meant for food.” She turned in his arms and he shrugged playfully giving her a deep kiss.

“Morning honey.” He smiled against her lips and she let out a little chuckle.

“Morning hot shot.” She grinned, patting his chest “you wanna set the places and pour us a coffee each? This is nearly done.”

Doing as he was told, Frank stepped back, grabbing cutlery and placing it on the breakfast bar before he made them both a coffee and grabbed the orange juice and a couple of glasses. As he set it all down on the side, Fliss dropped two plates of pancakes, bacon and eggs on the place mats and Frank gave a little groan of delight.

“You didn’t have to do this.” He looked at her.

“It’s just breakfast” she shrugged “Plus, thought it would be nice, just the two of us. And I wanted to talk to you.”

“Sounds ominous.” He arched an eyebrow as she sat next to him.

“No, not really.” She shrugged “I was just thinking yesterday a little. I wanna go back to work Frank, like full time. I’m ready.”

“Okay.” He nodded, “That’s fine. Did you think I was gonna protest or something?”

“No, I just wanted to discuss it, remember, we said we would do that after last time?”

“Liss, this is different.” He said, shaking his head as he cut into a pancake. “He’s almost 6 months old now, we’ll be weaning him soon.” “Yeah, I was thinking I can start pushing up the hours and then when he’s fully converted onto solids, which by the way, I’m not looking forward to those nappy changes…” she wrinkled her nose and Frank laughed, popping a piece of his breakfast into his mouth “well, when all that’s done then I’m back to full time.”

“Like I said, if you’re ready then fine.” Frank looked at her, hi hand dropping to her knee. “Guess we should start looking for a childminder huh?”

“Mum said she’d help out but I don’t want her to have him all the time, she’s got her own life. But I was thinking she could maybe have him two days a week, as she’ll sulk if I don’t let her have him some time.” Fliss shrugged “The other days, I thought we could speak to the one that Bonnie’s sister uses. She’s not far from Mum and Dad.” “Yeah, ok. Get her number and we’ll go meet her.” Frank agreed, shovelling more of his breakfast into his mouth.

“I also wanna call the architect that Steeby knows” Fliss added, taking a bite of food “Start getting the plans drawn up for the expansion. I’d really like to have that completed by the wedding. We got nearly 7 months. I think it’s doable. The additional stables won’t take long, or the lunging pen and the paddock move. The big job is gonna be the extension to the office and tack room but…again, a couple of weeks and Dad reckons it’ll be done. He doesn’t think that it’ll be much over 12 weeks in total if we get the right guys on the job.” Frank nodded “Well, the land is already ours so, go for it.”

“Yeah?” Fliss smiled and Frank returned the gesture, squeezing her knee.

“Yeah, let’s do it. Get the designs drawn up and some quotes for the work.”

“I love you.” Fliss beamed, leaning over to kiss him softly and he smiled, his nose bumping hers slightly.

“That’s because I’m a very lovable guy” he grinned and Fliss snorted, pulling back.

“Suppose so.”

They ate their breakfast and once the dishes were over they both retired to the sofa, Frank flicking on the news channel, Fliss picking up her book again, Fred curling up behind her head on the sofa back, Thor jumping up beside her. Frank gave a grunt and a huff, pushing the dog’s huge paw off his thigh before he flopped down, head in his lap. It was lazy, comfortable and remained that way until at midday, Fliss headed upstairs to pull on something a little more substantial than Frank’s shirt, much to his chagrin. When she came down dressed in a pair of breaches and a polo shirt little over 20 minutes later he smiled at her.

“You got a class this afternoon?”

“Yeah I’m taking Mary’s one at 2.” She said. “But I need to ride Cap beforehand and then Bronson needs working and Heidi could do with a walk round the trail too, her back leg keeps swelling up.” “Still bad?”

Fliss wrinkled her nose as she crossed to the fridge “Nothing unusual for her age, the vet said it’s a touch of arthritis which is why I don’t school her any more. It tends to go down when she’s done a bit of walking. If I take her for half an hour hack round she’ll be fine. It’s when it stops going down that I’ve got a problem, but I don’t even want to think about that.” She shook her head, pulling the water out of the fridge. “I can’t imagine my life without her.”

“She’s certainly been with you a long time.” Frank looked at her and Fliss nodded

“20 years this year.” She sighed “Hard to believe really. She was the first horse I ever owned, best one I could have hoped for.”

“How long do you think Mary has with Monty?” Frank asked, declining Fliss’ offer of a glass of water. “I mean till she outgrows him.” “She won’t” Fliss shook her head “I can still ride Monty, he’s a welsh cob. Chunky, she’ll be good with him until he drops. But I do think she’ll be looking for something a little more advanced as well in a couple of years, when Monty needs to slow down again, but we can cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Oh, great.” Frank rolled his eyes and Fliss laughed as she sat next to him.

“Behave, it’s not like it costs anything to keep another.” “I’m referring to the advanced bit.” Frank looked at her “Still scares the crap out of me when she sails over those damned fences.”

“She’s good at it.” Fliss shrugged “If she gets placed in the final competition next month she’s got third place over all. She wins it, then she’s gonna take second. Not to mention the fact that she’s basically already won the Junior Rider class. Not bad for a first season.”

Frank smiled proudly, but before he could say anything else the back door opened and Mary skipped inside, her voice carrying over the room.

“That’s just not true Poppa B and you know it!” She sing songed and Bill rolled his eyes as he carried Alex’s car chair inside.

“Is so.” He nodded “I know someone it happened to.”

“Nah ah!” she shook her head “When you swallow gum it can’t physically wrap around your ribs as when you eat it goes down to your stomach. It’s impossible.”

“Smart ass.” Bill chuckled as Fliss stood up, crossing the room.

“Hi!” she smiled, before she beamed down at Alex who grinned and started to thrash his legs and arms about at the sight of his momma, screeching. “Hi baby, I missed you!”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Mary looked at Fliss who laughed, and pulled her into a hug.

“And you, dur!”

“You have a good time?” Frank asked as Mary flopped next to him.

“Yeah, we had fish tacos.” Mary smiled “They were well nice.” “Fish tacos.” Frank made an approving noise in his throat.

“Yeah and then we watched some more of The Mandalorian. And I had hot chocolate and went to bed.” Fliss, who now had Alex cradled in her arms, turned to face them both. “Sounds better than my night.” She quipped giving Frank a wink as he raised an eyebrow.

“Oh does it?”

“Why does something tell me I don’t wanna know?” Bill asked and Fliss turned to look at her dad, an innocent look on her face.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She chuckled “I just helped Frank with some stuff on the boat.”

“Sure you did.” Bill rolled his eyes before his eyes twinkled cheekily “Hope you scrubbed the deck afterwards.”

**** Chapter 19

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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malereader-inserts · 4 years

Text

broken crown | xii.

“I’m vocalising this now,” You say to your boyfriend who looked unphased to the fact that you will exclaim about how dangerous something is - years of hearing you blabber on about it, “I just hope we don’t die.”

Word count: 2,331

You really didn’t know if this was going to work.

You stood here under the invisibility cloak with Harry as you look at Hermione and Ron pose as death eaters to get into Bellatrix’s vault. You and the rest had took off on the first of May, exactly when the potion was ready to be drunk. It had been three weeks since you last saw your dad, and you knew he was even more worried.

However, somehow all of you managed to get into the cart with a goblin under a spell. The cart hurtles through the darkness, ferrying the lot of you down the rickety rails, twisting and turning, sloping ever downward. Harry leans toward Griphook, who commandeers the cart.

“How long before they come after us?”

“Time will tell,” you hear Griphook answer, but you weren’t satisfied.

Harry’s eyes meet Griphook’s in the flickering darkness, before looking at you, Harry could tell that you weren’t happy with the answer. Then, Ron’s face appears over Harry’s shoulder.

“What’s that? Up ahead,” Ron points in the distance, directly over the tracks, something shimmers like a curtain of water.

“I should have known,” The goblin sneers, furiously, Griphook starts to throw levers, trying to slow the cart.

“What is that, Griphook?” You asked as the wheels screeched, throwing off sparks.

“Griphook! What is that!” Harry shouted this time, hoping the goblin would listen to him however Griphook doesn’t answer, furiously preoccupied with the cart.

Harry turns to Hermione, hoping she has an explanation since there was no point in asking you as you were also asking what it was to Griphool, but she just shakes her head, staring up ahead as Griphook slumps back, powerless, watching in grim resignation as the cart careens wildly down the rail and pierces the shimmering curtain. Instantly, water engulfs you and the rest with ferocious power.

The seats beneath them collapse, flipping downward and you drop in a cascade of roaring water toward the ground rushing up 30 feet below. You held your hand out, trying to focus whilst dropping down but slowly, one by one you splash down relatively gently and relatively unscathed. As the water drains away, you all peer upward, watching as alarms blare out, the cart rattles back the way it came.

“Well done,” Both Harry and Hermione complimented.

You tilted your head, “Hermione... you look like... you?”

Griphook nods to the waterfall, “The Thief’s Downfall. Washes away all enchantments. Can be deadly.”

Ron scoffs, “You don’t say,” watching as the cart’s alarms grow faint, “Just out of interest... is there any other way out of here?”

“No.” Griphook had replied as you stare at him grimly, never a fan of goblins you were.

“What the devil are you all doing down here!” You jumped at the new voice as everyone turn, seeing a soaking Bogrod, cleansed of the Imperius curse, backing away in angry confusion.

“We need him!” Griphook sneers as the other goblin points fingers at him.

“Is this your doing, Griphook? You have no rights here anymore. When you gave up your keys, you--”

Hermione and Harry raise their wands as you stand by idle, watching the little thing furiously rant away. As one of them was about to cast the spell they were too late. It was Ron, who lifted his wand quickest and cast the spell.

“Imperio!” Bogrod blinks, resumes his mild demeanour. Harry and Hermione turn, see Ron, wand outstretched. Griphook steps past, pushes Bogrod on.

“Well done.”

All of you watch the goblins go, as you exchange a glance with each other. Just then a moan is heard, deep and unsettling, coming from down the tunnel. Ron cocks his ear in disbelief

“No. It’s not possible...” Just outside Lestrange Vault, Ron appears first, trailed by Harry, you and Hermione, and finds Bogrod standing placidly by himself. As Harry and Hermione hang back, Ron moves forward slowly, squinting.

Something massive shifts heavily, chains clinking. They all look a giant dragon tethered to the ground, bars access to a deep vault. Its scales are pale and flaky, its eyes milky.

“That’s a Welsh Green,” You identified with a grim look

“It looks like it’s been down here forever,” Hermione follows up.

The hinges squeal sharply and you all jump, watching Griphook in the shadows take something from a wooden box on the wall. An odd-looking metal instrument. As he steps into the light, he tosses it to Hermione. She glances from it to Griphook, sees him eyeing her with a strange intensity.

“Go on,” He encourages as she looks unsure.

Then gives it a shake. A shrill ringing echoes of the rocky passage, eerie and unpleasant. The dragon rears back instantly, howling in fear, then, as the ringing subsides, settles. Ron nods knowingly.

“It’s been trained to expect pain when it hears the noise,” Ron explains as Hermione’s eyes flash to Ron, then to the scars on the dragon’s face and neck.

“That’s barbaric. I...” Hermione looked disgusted, she hands the instrument back, horrified.

Griphook takes it, unmoved, “We’ll only have a few seconds. In other words... they’ll be no do-overs. Understood?”

Everyone eyes the dragon, nod.

“Ready, Bogrod?” Griphook calls to the other.

“Hm? Oh. Yes. Of course,” Bogrod holds up his hand, waggles it. Griphook nods, eyes the dragon.

Its eyes glimmer angrily. Griphook raises the instrument and shakes it. The cacophony is murderous. You, Harry, Ron and Hermione grimaced. The dragon roars hoarsely, then slowly retreats. Bogrod strides forth, blissfully ignoring the dragon’s bobbing head and presses his hand to the vault’s door. It melts.

Everyone rushes inside. In the ensuing silence, the dragon spits fire just as the vault re-seals itself and all goes dark. You pulled your wand from your boot and held it out

“Lumos!”

Everyone’s wandtips bloom, illuminate a huge vault swimming in glittering treasure and eerie artefacts. You hear Ron softly curse at the sight as yu=ou chuckle under your breath

“Look,” Hermione crosses to what appears to be the Sword of Gryffindor, “No wonder Bellatrix thought it was real.”

Harry pays no attention, having drifted away from the others, playing his wandlight over the glittering walls. The others notice and go silent, watching. Griphook eyes Harry with particular curiosity.

Finally, Ron speaks, “Is it here, Harry? Can you feel anything?”

Harry doesn’t respond, his wandlight continuing to travel over the small treasures above. As Hermione watched, transfixed, her hand dangles nary a quarter inch from the lip of a silver bowl perched on the edge of the table beside her. The skin of Hermione’s wrist brushes the lip of the bowl.

Harry stares at the ancient cup above, glimmering dully in the light of his wand when Hermione yelps. As the others turn, they see her retract her hand, as if stung, sending the bowl tumbling to the floor. She holds up her wrist -- displays a red welt

“It’s hot!”

All eyes turn to the bowl, wobbling madly on the floor, when it splits apart and begins to multiply.

“They’ve added Gemino and Flagrante Curses!” Griphook explains loudly, “Everything you touch will burn and multiply!”

The multiplying bowls skitter across the floor and flip into the air. As one caroms off Ron’s shoe, it bursts into twenty more.

“Ron, your foot!” You pointed out to him as he tries to move it away.

It’s smoking as Ron stamps the ground. Harry pivots, tipping a towering stack of galleons to the floor where they multiply like cockroaches. Instantly, the room is a riot of multiplying white-hot metal.

“We’ll be crushed! Hurry!” Griphook shouts with great urgency.

Harry points his wand once again at the small cup near the ceiling, “That’s it. Up there.”

“How’re we going to reach it?” Hermione asked as Harry looks at her.

“Give me the sword! The real one.”

Hermione reaches into her beaded bag, tosses it to Harry, who catches it by the hilt. Griphook’s eyes glitter greedily at the sight of it, you hadn’t missed the glance and you detested the look. Instantly, Harry begins to scale the multiplying mountain of objects, climbing towards the cup, ignoring the look of Griphook, you watch your boyfriend worriedly.

As the sizzling surface shifts beneath his feet, he moves upward, beads of sweat trailing over his forehead. Suddenly, halfway up, he slips and instinctively to keep from falling, he reaches out and plants the flesh of his palm against the shifting slope.

Instantly, objects explode forth, multiplying crazily and cascading down onto you, Ron, Hermione and Griphook in a small avalanche.

“Keep going!” You shouted, a small tone of panic within your voice.

Harry climbs faster the sound deafening, objects clanging off one another until, finally, he stops just shy of the ceiling. Reaching out, he extends his arm further, then further still, and slips the sword’s tip through the cup’s handle. As it shimmies down the blade, a scream rises. Harry looks down, sees a terrified Bogrod pinned against the door, watching as Griphook sinks beneath the rising tide. Ron dashes forward, grabs Griphook’s fingers as he’s about to go under and yanks the blistered Goblin free.

“Harry! Behind you!” Hermione screeches in a hurry.

Harry turns and sees the swelling mountain has reached the ceiling and with nowhere else to go, it was about to spill itself down upon him. Turning back Harry leaps. He plummets, feet first, soaring through the air, then crashes down on the swelling treasure. The sword and cup fly free.

“The cup!” Ron exclaimed.

Harry dives into the scalding treasure, hand outstretched, and catches it. Instantly, dozens of Hufflepuff Cups burst from his fist, but he holds tight to the original, grimacing in pain.

“In here!” Hermione holds her beaded bag before Harry and he jams it inside.

As they turn for the door, they stop. Griphook holds the sword, the real sword, in his hands, turning the blade in the light.

“We have a deal, Griphook,” Harry spoke as Griphook looks up. A kind of madness burns in his eyes.

The Goblin sneered, “I said I’d get you in. I never said anything about getting you out.” Pivoting swiftly, he slams Bogrod’s hand to the door and as it melts.

You, Harry, Ron and Hermione ride an avalanche of silver and gold into the outer chamber. As you four find your feet, the dragon roars and spits fire, illuminating the tunnel. Shadows approach, stretching over the tunnel walls, it was the Gringotts goblins and guards.

Harry screamed, “Griphook! Griphook!”

But, Griphook merely looks back, grins madly and, sword in hand, rushes to join the approaching throng, “Thieves! Help! Thieves!”

“Foul little git. Least we’ve got Bogrod,” Ron tried to be positive however the dragon spits again, reducing Bogrod to dust, “That’s unfortunate.”

“You had to speak so soon?” You asked sarcastically as Ron gives you strained smile.

‘Stupefy!’ Harry bellowed.

Ron, you and Hermione joined in: jets of red light flew into the crowd of goblins and some toppled over, but others advanced, and Harry saw several wizard guards running around the corner.

The tethered dragon let out a roar, and a gush of flame flew over the goblins: the wizards fled, doubled-up, back the way they had come, and inspiration, or madness, came to Harry. Pointing his wand at the thick cuffs chaining the beast to the floor he yelled, ‘Relashio!’ The cuffs broke open with loud bangs.

“This way!” Harry yelled, and still shooting Stunning Spells at the advancing goblins he sprinted towards the blind dragon.

“Harry – Harry – what are you doing?” cried Hermione.

“Get up, climb up, come on –”

The dragon had not realised that it was free: Harry’s foot found the crook of its hind leg and he pulled himself up on to its back. The scales were hard as steel: it did not even seem to feel him. He stretched out an arm; Hermione hoisted herself up; Ron climbed on behind them, and then lastly you with a second later the dragon became aware that it was untethered.

“This is one mad idea, Harry,” You exclaimed at him, throwing another spell towards the guards below as he smiles devilishly handsome towards you as you scoffed, “This is not the time for charms, Harry!”

You all huddle together as everyone starts to prepare to return to Hogsmeade, you stood in front of the three of them, pointing your wand as it lets out hot arm - drying themselves from the cold water in the lake. You had seemed to dry off quicker than them. Hermione gets changed, placing a spell upon the blanket to stop you, three boys, from looking.

You get changed, not wanting to get sick from the wet clothes. You had lost your bag when you were getting chased by the snatchers months ago, but luckily, Hermione had transferred your important books in her bag. You were too oblivious to think that carrying a backpack was survive the whole journey.

May was awfully warmer than usual as you tied your boots up again and shoving your wand in them. Harry turned to look at Ron who was just sporting a think jacket, Hermione had a denim jacket as well as a zip-up hoodie underneath. He turns to look at you, sporting a teal slightly bigger sweatshirt tucked into your jeans in the front. He could see a white short turtleneck underneath to give you some warmth.

“Hogwarts then,” You hummed to Harry, who nods meekly, “I wonder what it’s like under Snape’s rule.”

“Probably bloody horrible,” Ron exclaims as Hermione fixes his hair, you smile to yourself as Hermione looked at you with eyes telling you to shut up.

Harry sighs, leaning his head against your shoulder, “So do I.”

Tagged

@carefulthatsharassment-sir @lanlanlan020202 @hanniejji @dumbssbtch @lea-the-foxe @stan-joonies @littertortilla @purpleshusbandd @svnfiwer

#broken crown #Remus Lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #remus lupin x male reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x male reader

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vannahfanfics · 3 years

Text

A Dash of Cream and Sugar

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Emi Fukukado, Shota Aizawa

Emi hunched over the counter, fist digging into her cheek with her lips pursed as she sourly fixated on the corner of the coffeeshop. Bent over a laptop, fingers smoothly gliding over the keyboard, the handsomest man she’d ever clapped eyes on diligently attended to his work. Onyx-black eyes lidded as they fixed on the computer screen, wavy brown-black hair tied in a loose bun behind his head, and a white dress shirt clinging to his lean but muscular frame, local prosecutor Shota Aizawa sure was a mouthwatering sight— and a frequent one. The man practically lived on coffee, and thus was a regular figure in the mom-and-pop coffee shop where Emi worked as a barista.

He’s so attractive that it’s a crime, she moped, slumping further into the counter as her longing mounted. She released a dreamy sigh, hearts practically beating in her eyes while she watched him take a languid sip of his black coffee. How can he walk around looking that fine when he’s a prosecutor? Talk about hypocritical! She giggled at her own joke, drawing the attention of her coworker Yu.

“Ahhh, daydreaming about life with our local sleep-deprived filthy rich prosecutor, are we, Emi?” the blonde woman crooned as she bopped Emi atop the head with an empty coffee cup. The other woman frowned and rubbed the top of her hair, turning to look at her friend with pursed lips.

“Not so loud!”

“Relax. The only one who’s unaware of your affections is the object of your affections,” Yu teased. Emi puffed out her cheeks angrily, but said nothing, because she was right. Despite Emi’s most valiant attempts at flirting— batting her eyelashes, fleeting touches, and even bending over the counter to give a great shot of her endowments— had failed miserably. The man was just oblivious. Stone-faced, he’d just take his coffee with a simple “thank you” and shamble off to his corner to attend to his paperwork.

Emi was at the end of her rope. She wasn’t getting any younger, and dammit, she wanted this man.

“What do I do, Yu?” she warbled miserably while turning to plank against Yu’s chest. The woman cooed and patted Emi’s back encouragingly, prompting the green-hand woman to seek further solace in her bosom. Buried in her pillowy chest, Emi’s words were muffled as she groaned, “I just want him to notice me…”

“Alas, my dear Emi, men are dense sometimes,” Yu tutted and patted Emi atop her head. “However, we women must persevere to win the hearts of men, however blockheaded they may be! It’s clear we have to take drastic measures.”

“Drastic measures?” Emi echoed, turning up her chin to peer at Yu with pursed lips and a few of her sea-green hair sticking up from her friend’s comforting caresses.

“That’s right!” Yu asserted and clapped her hands down on Emi’s shoulders, making her jump a little. “You have to lay it on so thick that he can’t possibly think you’re doing anything but flirting. Listen carefully, dear Emi, and we’ll net your man for sure!” Emi straightened up and Yu leaned in close to whisper fervently in her ear, both their gazes flickering to the unsuspecting man sitting quietly in his corner and type-type-typing away…

That’s how Emi found herself sauntering up to the small round table with a fresh coffee in hand, an exaggerated sashay in her hips and a pleasant smile on her freshly-glossed lips (courtesy of her savior Yu). She called cheerily to Shota, adding a delighted wave to play up the cute and endearing act, and her heart skipped a beat when his lidded black eyes slid in her direction. His eyebrows quirked up his forehead when he noticed the steaming cup of coffee in her hand, her seafoam green acrylic nails a stark contrast to the white paper cup.

“What do we have here?” he smirked, straightening in his chair. Emi’s knees nearly turned to jelly when he stretched his arms above his head, part of his dress shirt coming untucked from the waistband of his slate gray slacks and revealing a bit of his chiseled abdominals. She wobbled in her heels, legs stumbling in front of each other, but thankfully he had his eyes closed as he popped his aching vertebrae. It gave her just enough time to stagger up to the table and catch herself with the edge— and greet him with a million-dollar smile when he cracked his eyes open.

“You’ve been here for a while, hard at work,” she explained, setting the fresh coffee down. “I thought it was high time for a fresh cup.”

“Much appreciated, Emi.” Her nerves sang as he used her name, just like every time; with how often he was here, he was on a first-name basis with all the baristas, especially Emi since she worked full-time to supplement her income as a part-time standup comedian. He took the cup and brought it to his lips, sampling it with a teasingly raised eyebrow. He then smiled at her, and she wanted to do a happy somersault when she saw the pleased twinkle in his onyx eyes. “Perfect. I would be disappointed if you didn’t have my order memorized.”

“The strongest brew of the day with a dash of cream and sugar and an extra two shots of espresso, or as I like to call it, Liquid Death,” Emi joked with a waggle of her finger. “Of course I know it, since I make it almost every day.” Her heart thrummed when his smirk twitched into an amused smile.

“And yet, it’s not on the menu.”

“The management believes that it may unnerve our normal customers,” Emi purred with a playful wink. A chuckle rumbled in his chest, throaty in deep, and she melted against the table as her knees once again melted at the devilish attractiveness of this man. I’ll die before I even get to ask him out! She thought, resisting the urge to fan her slowly-flushing face.

“What a shame,” he tutted and took another sip. Emi watched him with an intense stare— more specifically, the writing in permanent marker on the cup he’d yet to notice, as it was currently hidden underneath his thumb. Would her and Yu’s carefully-constructed plan fall to pieces all due to unfortunate physics? Her heart pounded against his ribcage as she just watched him sip at the coffee, her brows furrowing more and more with each passing second.

Please notice me… I’m right here! she pleaded silently, nearly reduced to tears with frustration. Her heartbeat rose in pitch with each thump, until it thundered in her ears at near-deafening intensity.

“Emi? Emi. Emi.”

“O-oh!” she stammered when Shota’s voice finally reached her. She jerked violently and fluttered her eyelashes as she came back to reality; it took her a few moments to register that he was holding out some bills to her and looking at her in concern.

“You all right?”

“H-huh! Oh, yes. I just got lost in thought!” she evaded with a light-hearted laugh. She looked down at the offered bills, then waved a hand dismissively with a smile. “Oh, don’t worry about the coffee! I used my daily free drink.”

Shota raised an eyebrow questioningly, his hand falling a little.

“Well, that leaves you without a drink, now doesn’t it?”

“Bahhh, don’t sweat it!” she insisted with another fluttery wave, using her other hand to rub the back of her neck. “I don’t feel like drinking coffee today.” Shota looked unconvinced, but obediently tucked the bills back into his wallet. He picked up the coffee and sipped at it thoughtfully, once again failing to see the writing scrawled on the white surface. Emi wanted to fall over and throw a tantrum, it was so infuriating how the world hated her so!

“Still, I feel like I should repay you some way…”

“Really, it’s not ne—”

“If not monetary reimbursement, then perhaps a date?”

Emi almost spit all over him with the completely flabbergasted sound that came out of her mouth. Shota actually chuckled a little at the way her mouth fell open and she just stared unresponsively, dumbstruck.

“While you were staring off into space, I read your little love note,” he revealed, turning the coffee cup around and giving it a shake. Emi had written the poem “Roses are red, violets are blue, if it’s not too much trouble, can I go out with you? <3” in black permanent marker in the white space of the cup. “Quite original, I must say. Much more enjoyable than your phone number, though I suppose I’ll need it,” he said with a wolfish grin and a saucy wink that had Emi almost faint.

“O-okay,” she said breathily, submitting to the urge to fan her face as a blush blazed across her face. She retrieved her trusty permanent marker and the empty coffee cup, lifting it up with trembling hands to write down her number. Her quivering hands made the numbers jerky and twitchy, but thankfully still legible. When she handed it back to Shota, he appraised it with a hum, and then set it down.

“Thank you. What time do you get off tonight?”

“T-tonight?” she wheezed. Though this was everything she’d ever wanted, suddenly it felt like it was all happening too fast. Somehow, she remained steadfast and squeaked out, “Ei-eight…”

“All right then, Emi,” Shota smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I’ll see you for dinner, then. Now, you and I both should probably get back to work,” he said, motioning to the coffee bar with his chin. She looked back to see Yu struggling to man the front herself and casting desperate glances at Emi.

“O-okay!” she said breezily, wobbling as the situation finally began to dawn on her. Still, her friend needed her, so she staggered back to her workspace to replace Yu at the register and fumble through the orders with a hazy mind. She kept thinking how much Shota’s coffee order fit him— though he seemed dark and brooding, just like pure espresso, but there was a hint of sweetness, a dash of cream and sugar, swirling within. She couldn’t wait until their date, when she could really get a taste of her new favorite brew…

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#eraserjoke #eraserhead x ms. joke #ms. joke x eraserhead #shota aizawa #aizawa shota #emi fukukado #fukukado emi #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha

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screensirenfic · 3 years

Text

A Curse On Your Name - Chapter 9 - Sukuna’s Fingers

“Can we make this quick; I really don’t like graveyards…”

Mikasama asked, hoping that at least Getou would pick up on her uneasiness and try and put her out of her misery as quickly as possible.

“Why, Mika-Chan..? You afraid of the dark, or what’s hiding in it..?”

Teased Satoru, wiggling his fingers in an exaggerated parody of an old horror movie monster; the boy’s goofy grin doing nothing to up the intimidation factor, though she doubted that was his aim.

“Shut up, Satoru…”

Warned Getou; the boy having thankfully noticed her discomfort and rightfully deciding that Gojo’s jokes would do little to help the situation.

“Don’t worry; Mika-Chan. We’ll protect you…”

Crooned Satoru, stepping past her to take the lead; his long fingertips brushing against her own as he passed in a motion that had her tensing as if for impact.

It wasn’t their protection she was worried about; it was just her experience in graveyards was not one that needed revisiting.

She’d been the only one at her mother’s funeral. The only family she’d had in this world since she and her father had split.

Part of her had hoped he might’ve come, to pay his respects to the woman he once called wife, and support the daughter he’d abandoned almost longer ago than her memory could recall.

The other part of her was glad he didn’t show.

She didn’t know what she would’ve said if he did; her heart too hardened with anger and grief to even consider forgiving the man who’d left her without so much as a reason.

“So what exactly is it we’re looking for..?”

She asked, taking in the monotone scene of family shrines neatly organised in rows; the near metropolitan planning of the dead’s final resting place taking away some of the fear factor the encroaching darkness added.

“One of Sukuna’s Fingers…”

Geto replied; the morbid irony of searching for dismembered body parts in a graveyard not lost on her.

“Sukuna..?”

She repeated the name; the previous owner of the supposed Cursed Artefact not ringing any bells.

“Yeah; the dried-out, wrinkled fingers of the fabled King of Curses himself!”

Enthused Gojo; continuing to waggle his fingers about dramatically like a goddamn idiot.

“Sukuna was said to be a malevolent God made flesh that walked the earth over a thousand years ago…”

Explained Getou; the story sounding more like glorified folklore, if not for the serious nature of her more mature companion telling it.

“And now he’s the collectible Yu-Gi-Yo cards of Jujutsu Sorcery!”

Added Satoru; his lame attempt at lightening the mood earning himself an eye roll from Getou.

Immortal God or not; Sukuna was nothing but bones now, and that meant he was nothing to worry about.

“Hey Mika-Chan; I heard Sukuna supposedly had two of everything…”

Elaborated Satoru with his signature cocky grin; the brazen blonde surprisingly knowledgeable when it came to long dead deities.

“Two sets of arms, two sets of eyes; I wonder what else he had two of..?”

He mused; the dirty implications not going unnoticed by either her or Getou as Gojo snickered like a child; the oversized toddler finding it apparently hilarious to imagine the wild possibilities of Sukuna’s anatomy.

Trust Saturo to make everything about his di-

“Shit - Get down!”

She exclaimed, dragging both boys behind one of the gravestones, Mikasama being careful to only grab Satoru by the sleeve lest they have a repeat of what happened earlier in the courtyard.

“What is it?”

Getou asked, keeping his voice low in a whisper as they peered over the shrine, his hands already braced to summon forth his Cursed Energy if they needed defending.

“A Curse; I think…”

She replied, drawing their attention to the hulking creature slowly meandering down the rows of headstones just a mere ten feet away; its slug-like foot leaving a trail of slime behind that shimmered in the moonlight.

“It looks pretty powerful. Maybe a Grade 1 or 2…”

Analysed Getou; quickly setting his mind on tactics as they took in the lumbering beast that seemingly scoured the gravesites for something, perhaps Sukuna’s Finger.

“Got it!”

Exclaimed Gojo, the white-haired idiot making no attempt at secrecy as he leapfrogged the gravestones, making a beeline straight for the Curse.

“Gojo-!”

She hissed; already getting up on her feet, because the dumbass was going to get himself killed, and she wasn’t about to attend another funeral.

“Shhh…”

Hushed Getou, pulling her back down beside him before she could draw the attention of the Curse.

“It’s okay. He can handle it.”

Getou reassured her, not worried in the slightest for his kamikaze roommate, who was currently attempting to goad an oversized slug into battle.

“What do you mean?! He’s gonna get us all killed-!”

She protested, not about to go down with this rapidly sinking ship just because the bro-code forbade Getou from intervening in Gojo’s fights.

“Just trust me…”

Pleaded Getou, and against all common sense she did, watching and waiting whilst Satoru taunted an already angry Curse; the beast lurching forward with an unnatural force she’d thought impossible in its current form.

“Boop!”

Satoru smirked, reaching out to lightly bop the Curse on what she guessed was its nose; the entire creature dissolving into a coagulated soup the moment his finger made contact.

—————————————————

“Hi-yah!”

Mikasama came to to the sound of fighting, her head still spinning and her body in a world of pain as she pulled herself up from the crumpled heap she’d become on the floor of Susawa High’s hallway.

“What are you doing?!”

She could hear Megumi’s voice in the distance; the combination of fear and outrage spurring her into action as she struggled to her feet, determined to reach her student before he was killed by the Curse, or worse.

“Helping!”

Yelled the voice of Yuji Itadori; the boy having apparently gained his second wind as she followed the sounds of fighting to a gaping hole in the exterior wall; a battle worthy of the history books raging below as Yuji attempted to singlehandedly take on the Curse whilst Megumi watched on helplessly.

The kid wasn’t half bad, striking out with a quick series of punches and kicks that kept the Curse on the defensive, but if she knew anything about Cursed Spirits; it was that they were adaptable, and that relying on the same technique was a sure way to get yourself-

“Shit-!”

There it was!

The Curse had managed to get a hold of Yuji; its colossal hands squeezing round his rib cage like he was some kind of stress ball; the boy wriggling helplessly in its grip as the beast readied itself to swallow him whole.

“Help!”

Yuji let out a cry; the futility of the gesture not lost upon him as his eyes went wide with the realisation that this was it for him.

But not on her watch…

“Hraaaaah!”

She let out a battle cry as she leapt forward off the ledge to the Curse below, using the little Cursed Energy residue she had left to summon forth a massive Nodachi sword that made her arms burn from the effort of swinging it.

“Mikasama!”

Exclaimed Megumi, both shocked and relieved to see her back on her feet as she skewered the Curse’s skull with her sword, the blade sinking through bone and flesh alike as she landed on its back, using the hilt as a handle to cling onto the beast as it screamed and thrashed around in pain.

“SCREEEE!”

The Curse squealed in a pitch so high it hurt, the creature automatically flailing around in response as it tried to dislodge her from its skull, but she held strong, clinging to the hilt so tightly her hands felt numb.

The force of the creature’s movements whipped her body about like a rag doll, the devouring of Yuji Itadori forgotten as the Curse tossed the boy aside in favour of swatting at the woman on its back.

“Yuji!”

Exclaimed Megumi as the boy landed on the floor with a loud thump, quickly making his way over to the his side despite his own injuries as he helped Yuji get back on his feet.

“How much longer do you think she has..?”

Asked Yuji, referring to Mikasama as she played Cursed buckaroo; the beast trying everything in its power to throw her off; the sharp nature of her blade tearing through putrid flesh as the blade began to slip downwards.

“Not long…”

Warned Megumi, just as the blade was suddenly wrenched free, the metal snapping in half as its wielder was flung onto the floor; Mikasama now completely down and out for the count in this battle.

“What are you doing?!”

Exclaimed Megumi; his eyes drawn away from his injured teacher, to Yuji Itadori as he raised Sukuna’s mummified finger high into the air, tilting his head back as he went.

“Evening the odds a little bit…”

Replied Yuji, opening his mouth wide as he dropped the finger into it.

“No..!”

Yelled Megumi as the boy closed his mouth around the flesh, but it was already too late; Yuji having swallowed it down in one firm gulp and sealing his fate.

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i-idontunderstand-things · 4 years

Text

Transcript of 1 Man 100 Accents

I took far too long to do this, but.... it’s done now so I may as well post it. This will help me remember my fave video when it’s deleted :)

Mark: Argentina. Ethan: Argentina. Capital of the world. When you think of Argentina you think,,,, whO WOULD GO THERE?? *giggling* Mark: I was more lookin for an accent,, more than anything,, Ethan: OH, accent, accent. Mkay, re-run. *twirls finger in air* Mark: Austria. Ethan: Austria. Ehy mayte- whlcum tu Aughstria - Mark: Oh god… Ethan: wAIGHT for it though,,, Mark: *laughter* Ethan: Waight until I tell yew,, the country of Aughstria,, k?? We were invited by Gehrmay dyuring the world War Twooooo,,, one??? *laughter* Then Poulanghd said “hay,, how bout we help yu out!” They came oughva, we came oughva, we had a cuppa tea as we do In Austria,,, We said “oY, Germany, mAYBE,, dONT!” N that’s when it oll ‘appened. They kicked out, and I said, “Naw, naw naw, not in the northern hemisphere, gough down to the buttom, the buttom bitch o’ the barrel.” So we went and said hello to the Australians! Commonly miscommunicated with the Austrians. BUT,, we’re not them, they’re not us. BAck in Austria we go! Roight next to,,, GERMANY, roight next tu Pouland, r- rOIGHT next to France. Mark: Wh- what are you talking about?? *laughter* All Iwas asking for was an accent you,,, goddamn travesty,,, you human train wreck, you cant keep one train of thought- Ethan: *waggles finger* Next one, next one- Mark: Uhhh, paupa new Guinea Ethan: *looks down* Pff- couldn’t even tell you where that is- Mark: H- It’s funny cuz I don’t need you to-

*laughter*

Ethan: Paupa New guinea, I think, sounds-- when I think of it-- I go “PapWAH new guinea”- which makes me think that they might be Frennnnch… mghh,,, HEGLLUOGHHH-

*both burst out laughing*

Ethan: Weglcome to Paupa New guinea. *laughter* Same as Austria--- We hagve a very similar accents to Austria!! Wglhcoooome- t0--

*laughter*

Ethan: Give me one,, that really hits home- Mark: uhhh, Cuba? Ethan: Cyooba. Mark: *w h e e z e* Ethan: Capital of the cigahr- Mark: *w h e e z e*

*laughter*

Ethan: When yu think of Cyooba,,

*L A U GH T E R*

Ethan: When yu think of Cyooba, yu think,,, pghyooo, phyooogh, pghgoo, egl caystro, and his ssssensitive,,,, ssss,, sssIGNATURE mustache- Mark: *losing his shit* Ethan: Yu tink of the way that he burned the money, to keep his daughter warm at night-

*demonic noises*

He was makin 3, 4, 5, 6, MILLION DOLLARS A dAY,,, selling cohcaine,, in the united states of america!! Now, when you think, “hey, that’s not vehry cüül,” that’s when we had to embargainze them. Mark: *wheeze* Ethan: We said, “Ey Cyooba!! Back it off a little bit!! We can’t come near you, you can’t come near me, dat’s why we can’t have a shweet shweet smohky pohky,,,, anymore-” but now- the embargus has been lifted- an’ we can go back to motherland Cyooba- and get our sweet, h o t cigars. Widen our mouths- and we’ll go- *sucks invisibe cigar* *coughs* and that’s ‘ow you know- it’s a true hghuu--- human cigar.

*laughter*

Mark: I-- I don’t understand what happens in your brain-- *laughter* it doesn’t make any sense at all-- Ethan: Well it makes perfect sense to me :) Mark: Of course it does, course it does.. Ethan: * h a c k* Next. Mark: ..Russia. Ethan: …. Wghlcum to Russia. *laughter* Capital of s n o w,,, and bad weather. In here we have,, big radiation poison. It makes your big rats bigger, and your sack hang lower,,, and you-- *laughter* you can’t go anywhere near tha snow. If tha snow touches you,, you go “ohh FACK-” and then yu ded. You can’t even hh- help yourself- *laughter* noone can touch yu, noone can hug you- what kind of life is that? Not a life worth wiving. Ghgwhhhh- *L A U G H T E R* Which is why in nineteen eighty siiiiiiixx?? When chernobl went “Imma,,,, gonna ‘splode now,,,” people said “FACK.” Did you know,,, that when you think,, I think… when I think about…. CHERNOBL!!

*uncontrollable laughter*

Ethan: My mind says, ‘world war two, world war one, north korea! WHO KNOWS Wh-WHEN IT HAPPENED!!! But it was so SOOON- -- when it happened,, if you do the math … which i cAnT.. *laughing* You’ll realise it was 30….. yeearrsagooooo… 1986 is when it happened… Quick, quick do the math for me *snaps fingers* how many years ago?? Mark: 33 Ethan: When it happened, when the whole world said, “We’re going to die. We’re going to die. The llll,, the radiation was swpt up by the wind, much like the fires of…. North california-

*laughter*

Mark: Oh god… oh god- Ethan: And they were swept- swept- swept- swept- swept- and they went up into the smoky air,, and they… okay,, picture this alright??? One time, you’re going to bed,, and you wake up and you go pee in the night… and you see BOOM BOOM BOOM all over the place… from one… place actually. Mark: *actually suffocating from laughter* Ethan: uh,,, only one explosion. *C O U GH* ighgh- it gets me choked up sometimes- aghibfuh- it went SUPER BIG, and the whole government said,, “don’ worry about it,,, you cant…. The radiator cant ‘splode! It’s impossible!” Well listen here,, PHUCKER. IT IS!! It happened 2… years.. before 35 years ago!!! 33 years ago it happened ! Swept up by the wind,, it,, Sweden said, “Oh, we can feel it,,” and so they said “okay, we have to get it under control” they put so much sand *laughing* o- on top of it- *dissolves into laughter* Mark: your Russian accent has slipped a little bit- Ethan: yu don know anything-- Mark: *bursts out laughing* Ethan: They put some sand on top some dogs died some kids died and they tried to evacuate the WHOLE area but it was too late for them they said “ohhh yu can survive-” but now people go back,,, to BULLETS,, *pause* Sooo,, it’s still bad there. *Mark bursts out laughing* Mark: good god, man, I’m just lookin for an accent. You good? You good man? You good? Ethan: Wrap it up. Also Ethan: Next one. Mark: what?? Ethan: Ye, sure. Mark: Ughh, alright,, give me some Italy. Ethan: *scrunches his face up, preparing his accent,* Alexa? Play when the moon hits your eye its a big piece of pie,, song,, Alexa: Here’s Spotify (starts playing That’s Amore) Ethan: *mumbling* fucking.. asshole… Alexa stop. Alexa: *continues playing* Ethan: *mumbling along with song* shit… *puts on baby hands, hits camera* ringalingaling, bitches fkn shit… PAUSE!! PAUSE!! ALEXA!! PAUSEIT!! YOU STAY! You stay here ! shh! *blows kiss, gets up from table* you stay here! You don’t move a muscle! Stay! Stay. *walks away from camera, up the stairs* Mark: *to Spencer* Spenceyyy,,, you wouldn’t happen to know what happening here, would you?? Spencer: Mark: Spencer… your master has gone crazy! You need to run. Run away spencecr.. It’s not safe for you here… what the hell?? Alexa: *starts playing Lose Yourself as Ethan runs down the stairs with baby hands on* Ethan: *basically fucking turns into Eminem* through this hole that is gaping…… *bursts out laughing* as we move farther, new world order.. *flailing arms around, knocks gum off counter* *further struggling* Can,, can this be done??

Mark: *laughing in complete confusion* Goodbye,, remember that we only have a year. Ethan: H-- *contorts face* how much time do we have left??? Ghhghg Mark: ah,, fuckin,,,

*timer*

#crankgameplays #unus annus

18 notes · View notes

agapaic · 4 years

Note

tianshan / guess who i met on the street today~

19. (MATURE)

It’s a slow night, the house full—doors slamming and feet treading up the stairs, laughter drifting in-and-out while they wait for last-minute appointments—and Guan Shan has an 8pm slot pencilled in. A man in his forties, dinner at Baodu Feng, maybe a blowjob in the back of the car if Guan Shan’s feeling lively enough for a tip. It’s their usual rendezvous—Guan Shan a dewy youth at Hsien Yu’s side, a leather booth for two, a plate of sticky rice and tripe to share. He’s pressing aftershave beneath his shirt collar when Jian Yi slips into his bedroom.

‘Guess who I met on the street today,’ he croons, flopping onto Guan Shan’s bed, head propped behind his hands, eyes smugly on the low ceiling. A floor lamp in the corner of the room tinges his white hair yellow, and tonight he wears tight jeans and a sequined purple jumper to match the fake amethyst gemstone in his right earlobe.

Guan Shan grunts and moves over to his dresser, rifling for a clean tie in the drawers to match his paisley shirt. ‘Don’t care.’

‘Oh, I think you do.'

'Trust me,' Guan Shan counters impatiently. 'If it comes outta your mouth, I don't.'

'Too cruel, Red,' Jian Yi pouts. 'Maybe I won't tell you about Mr Talk, Dark, and Disgustingly Rich.'

Guan Shan rifling pauses. 'The thousand yuan tip guy?'

Jian Yi's expression is pointed and pleased, a dog who's caught the stick in its mouth. 'And you said you didn't care.'

'I don't,' Guan Shan says. 'I have an 8pm appointment. Real work.'

'Real blowjobs,' remarks Jian Yi, mouth downturned. He looks Guan Shan up and down. 'Let me guess. Hsien Yu, the old letch? Ugh, that guy needs a wife.'

'He's forty, not dead. And he doesn't fuckin' take without askin' first.' Guan Shan can't believe he's defending the guy, but he's a regular, and customers who use the services of the house and keep their hands to themselves are a rarity.

Jian Yi waves Guan Shan off. 'Talk, Dark, and Filthy Rich could take what he wanted from me any day.'

Guan Shan’s mouth twists in distaste. ‘You’re quick. What happened to your Monday Night Guy? Zhan-something?’

‘Oh,’ says Jian Yi, kicking his feet against the base of the bed. ‘Please. He’s marriage material.’

‘And the rich guy—’

‘Is a quick fuck in the furniture store and you’ll swallow if he tells you to.’

‘You’re disgustin’,’ Guan Shan mutters.

‘We work in the sex industry, my friend. No time to be coy.’

Companion industry, Guan Shan nearly corrects, but he’s not sure who he’d be trying to convince—Jian Yi or himself. Three years of this, and it’s chaste, for the most part, but not enough that Guan Shan can ignore the rest of it—car pulled over on the side of the road, head bowed into a lap; bruised knees on a tiled floor; a knife under a hotel bed, just in case.

‘Did you talk to him?’ Guan Shan asks, despite himself. ‘The guy.’

Jian Yi bolts upright, grinning. ‘I knew you were interested,’ he says, a sharp accusation, viciously triumphant. He indulges in it for a moment, then concedes. ‘I didn’t. I saw him in Chaoyang Park. He looked busy. All business. His bodyguard was wearing a suit that would pay more than my annual salary.’

Guan Shan grunts and props himself against the dresser, arms folded. It sounds right, to a point. Mr He flashed enough money during their appointment for Guan Shan to spend the evening in a state of nauseous awe. He’d had rich clients, men and women with busy schedules who travelled often and talked little and found it hard to sustain any kind of relationship.

He’d never been hired by someone like Mr He, money in his pores and charm to stop you in the streets. The man didn’t need to pay for Guan Shan’s company, not least for a companion who smiled little and laughed less. Granted, the books had been full last week, but Guan Shan was the wrong choice to boost the ego of a man like that.

‘You should call him,’ says Jian Yi, waggling his eyebrows. ‘See if he wants another round.’

‘We didn’t fuck,’ Guan Shan snipes. ‘We watched a fuckin’ basketball game.’

‘Oh, I know. You were in the tabloids.’ Jian Yi wiggles his fingers in Guan Shan’s direction. ‘Mr He Tian’s mystery man.’

Guan Shan rolls his eyes. ‘I’m not desperate. I’ve got other clients.’

‘Not ones that look like that. Not with that kind of money.’ Jian Yi gets to his feet, stretches cat-like until his jumper rises above his midriff. ‘I dunno, Red,’ he says, dropping his arms to his sides, shrugging. ‘What have you got to lose?’

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#19 days #ahoralasoledadnoestasola #tianshan #prompts #he tian #mo guan shan

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if-found-return-to-gusu · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday to Me Pt. 4

And so as if they’d been waiting for the queue, the party got started immediately. Jiang Cheng and Shijie went to the kitchen to get, I assumed, food while half the others started collecting rabbits to bring them up.

When the other half asked how they could help I playfully suggested “Gifts?”

Then my heart stopped for a second.

Lan Zhan.

Fucking

WINKED

At me!!!

He WINKED!!! And said “Later.”

(Actually it was really impressive. The rest of his face didn’t move. Just the lid. When I wink I look like a pirate that stubbed the toe on their only remaining foot.)

Then he had the audacity to try to get me to sit and relax while everyone else ran around to finish setting up. Mostly there was just kitchen duty and bunny wrangling. We divided the rest of our forces between the two tasks and I raced to collect my daughter.

“No one touches Suibian! She’s mine!”

While I scooped up my little girl, Lan Zhan helped A-Ling and A-Yuan collect a couple of bunnies of their own to help. He taught them how to hold them so they’d feel safe and wouldn’t squirm.

Oh.

That was a new emotion that I’d rather not look at too closely right now.

But… Oh…

I never knew he was that good with kids….

Oh.

I was distracted by a new form of longing by the look of absolute concentration on A-Yuan’s little face. And A-Ling was toddling just as carefully as he could on his little baby legs.

Actually I was a bit worried as they approached the stairs, but Jin Zixuan swooped his son up into his arms with the bunny and carried them both up.

Between all of us, minus Nie Huaisang who I have since learned is very allergic (which actually makes him coming to spend the evening in the bunny-den somehow even nicer which was not lost on me. Thanks. You really are a good friend.), it only took one parade up to the apartment to get all the buns safely tucked away in their little pen in Lan Zhan’s place.

Gamby and Aunty Yi started making little jibes or something at Lan Zhan based on his expression. I couldn’t really hear what they were saying but I did see how his ears turned a pretty pink.

DaGe coughed too like he was in on whatever joke they were sharing. Lan Zhan didn’t seem to get it either so I just shrugged and went back to saying my sweet goodbyes to my little girl, telling her to eat her hay and play nice with the other buns.

She looked up at me and flopped over again. She loves doing that next to me and I die every. Single. Time. She’s SO CUTE.

I heard Lan Xichen saying something about going back so that the Jiangs weren’t kept waiting on us, but then Lan Zhan came back to the part of the room with the bunnies. He started petting them and telling them not to worry. That they’d be back home the next day. That they’d like it there.

Of course they’d like it there. Wherever you are is the best place in the world. The place you call home could only be paradise.

I gave Suibian one last pat before I straightened up so I could go to Lan Zhan. I couldn’t resist hugging him again. So I didn’t.

He hugged me back almost as tight as Gamby had. I felt my eyes well again but I pushed it back.

“I can’t believe you did all this for me,” I admitted.

“It wasn’t just me,” he said. I could feel his chest vibrate with the deep timbre of his voice. “It began with Jiang Cheng and Huaisang too.”

I hugged him tighter as I felt another swell of emotion hit me. I was NOT going to cry on his shirt. No.

“Still,” I said. Wonder if he could feel my pout.

We stayed like that for just a little longer before he said “They’ll be waiting for us.”

Let them wait.

But he was right. I nodded and let go reluctantly. He called out to me before I could step away though. He moved in that dark quiet to cup my cheek so that he could kiss the other one.

I can still feel it burning against my cheek. That lingering kiss. If I press my fingers to it and then to my lips I can almost taste him.

“Happy birthday, Wei Ying,” he said, his voice low and soft. “I hope you’ll enjoy yourself tonight.”

My heart pounded in my throat and managed to force out a laugh. I threw my arms back around him, afraid if I looked at him another moment I’d…

“I know I will,” I said. I think my voice was steady. I hope it was. I leaned up to kiss his cheek. Fair’s fair.

He grinned at me. A real grin. My knees just about buckled. I was seriously tempted to suggest we forget about everyone downstairs waiting for us. For a moment all I wanted was to stay in that shadowed room with Lan Zhan’s arms holding me up.

We did eventually wander downstairs. I’m going to pretend people were staring because it was my birthday and NOT because I’d just spent way longer than necessary alone with Lan Zhan in his apartment while they waited for us.

I decidedly did NOT see Nie Huaisang waggling his eyebrows at me either.

At this point the food had all been set up and Shijie was gesturing for me to sit at the head of the table at the ‘place of honor’, whereupon I was granted a beautiful crown constructed from only the finest plastic and the best glitter money could buy! I descended gracefully on my royal throne and declared as their liege that the sweets and snacks were to be distributed evenly to my gracious subjects! None would be left wanting in my kingdom! Why even the court jester was allowed to partake with all his golden peacockyness. And anyone who dared go against this decree would be punished most severely with previously unforetold quantities of chilli pepper oil!

The youngest of my subjects cheered their agreement and practically launched themselves at the sweets the moment the proclamation was completed.

I piled some delicious morsels onto my plate, all of which smelled as delicious as they looked thanks to my Shijie’s expert hand. (It’s a wonder I’m not rolling from place to place from eating so much of her delicious sweets. Hard to keep this figure after a visit from Shijie. I'll tell you that for nothing.)

As I scooped up my portion of the bounty, Jiang Cheng and Shijie herself came to visit.

“So you’re coming, right?” Jiang Cheng said with all the clarity and tact of a divine sage.

“Uh of course I am. To what?” I asked, my mouth stuffed full of a cookie.

“‘To what?’ he says. Really? My birthday, dumbass.”

And I nearly choked on the cookie. Fortunately Shijie was there to pat my back.

Okay you have to understand. I haven’t been allowed at one of Jiang Cheng’s or Shijie’s birthdays since I was kicked out.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I gasped once I had successfully dislodged the cookie from my esophagus. “Madam Yu would KILL me!”

“Mother won’t be there this year,” Shijie said, offering me a tissue for my streaming eyes. (After all that time trying NOT to cry it was of course a cookie that did me in.)

“Yeah Dad’s got some press conference to go to or something so Mom’s playing arm candy all night. “ “Bet she loves that,” I said with no small amount of sarcasm.

“Tsh yeah. I mean she loves being paraded in front of the press.” Jiang Cheng agreed in the same tone as me.

“I wonder why she didn’t just go for the job herself,” I mused. An old argument.

“It’s not how it’s done,” Jiang Cheng and I said together. Shijie hid her snicker behind her hand.

God I miss them. I’m so thankful they tracked me down again.

“So yeah. Anyway. It’s still a bit to-do because of course it is, but it’d be a lot less stuffy if you were there to stir up some trouble.”

“Aww bro, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” I cooed as I wrapped my arms around him as obnoxiously as possible.

“Gitof me! Do I look like your “Lan Zhaan’??”

“Hey! I don’t sound like that!”

“Yes you dooooo. Lan Zhaan ooooh! Lan Zhaaaan. I’m gonna stare at you with gooey eyes until everyone else feels uncomfortable and leaves. What were you two doing up there so long by you--MMPH!”

I covered his mouth with my hand (earning me a disgusting lick uuugh. So gross) because Lan Zhan was walking by with a tray of something.

So to pretend my little brat of a brother wasn’t singing about my crush to the class I focused on what said crush was holding only to be actually distracted when I realized what I was looking at.

A huge tray FULL of Emperor’s Smile!!!

#wei wuxian #wei ying #the untamed #cql #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #Long Post #(Modern AU!)

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eyeslikefoxglove · 4 years

Text

Episode 21 - The PTSD is strong with this one & we need more braincells

Hello hello! Welcome to the commentary. How’s everyone? I’m frozen solid because it’s mid-June in Spain and yet we had 11°C yesterday. Fucking awesome!

I AM NOT WEARING MASCARA SO I CAN CRY ALL I WANT. I DONT KNOW IF THATS GOOD OR BAD THO.

Can I just take a second to appreciate how much this big strong powerful men emote? I mean, I know this isn’t western media where the tough guy can’t show emotions, and I don’t know that eastern media has the same hangups about men emoting but just... it’s so refreshing.

Huaisang bb you’re so sweet.

Oh, oh the PTSD is strong with this one.

Also, bless both JC and NHS, they absolutely noticed WWX flinch and, in their own ways, went and steamrolled over it so WWX wouldn’t feel scrutinised.

WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST TO INFORM YALL THAT I GOT A KITTEN ON MY LAP. (She’s kneading my boob, which, ow, but...)

*BICHEN GRIIIIIIIP*

How do y’all think the guards go deliver bad news to WRH? Like do they paper-rock-scissor it? Draw straws?

NMJ did you have to?

And once again I wonder what would’ve happened if JFM had let sect leader Yao kick it.

Ughvhfnevus it’s this clown. Same as with Su She, if you see a bunch of screaming it’s just me not wanting to listen to Jin ZiXun.

The Nies: let’s throw a banquet to honour WWX’s return

Every asshole there: *gossips about WWX while in the room with him*

Once again I wish I could transmigrate (and speak mandarin lol) and just start delivering tongue lashings.

Listen, I have no idea how to play Guqin, but I did play the guitar for years and even from here I can see how much YiBo’s hands don’t match the melody. Nothing against him but why does this always happen? I know they got classes, so was the music not written by that time or something? Because one thing is not hitting the correct notes, another is plucking slow notes when the tempo is much faster.

JC: Since yours and LWJ’s unhappy separation...

My dumbass: do you mean breakup? *eyebrow waggle*

You will pry my “JC knows his brother is pinning after LWJ, he probably doesn’t want to know anything else” hc out of my cold dead hands thankyouverymuch.

WWX: *spouts a bunch of misdirection to avoid giving JC a straight answer*

JC: Bull-fucking-shit.

Should I count how many times WWX PTSDs all over the place or would you like me to leave your hearts intact? That’s two so far.

Ok ok, I feel that, if someone with a bit less trauma and a bit of insight (NHS maybe?) had seen the bit where ChenQing fucking hurts Shijie thing would’ve gone differently. I mean, yes, LWJ keeps warning WWX that this shit is gonna fuck him up, but as I said in my previous commentary LWJ also has the communication skills of a hermit crab so that wouldn’t work, and JC would be too wound up and WWX too busy trying to conceal his lack of golden core for that conversation to go anywhere. But if someone who WWX knows is a good egg (I’m not gonna say trusts bc paranoia) had sat him down and told him “your new instrument that you use for your new form of cultivation just hurt the person you love most please be careful when you use it.” I think it would’ve worked wonders towards his health overall.

I know Shijie says it’s like Zidian, but she’s not working with the fact that this thing is made for and by the Dark Side of the Force and I’m sorry but I can’t help but see ChenQing as a bit of a horrocrux almost. Or like, if you like me think the Burial Mounds is an Entity, something that’s a bit more sentient that it lets on.

Speaking of reputations and NHS being a good egg, I have oh-so-many ideas (I won’t say plot bunnies because I can’t write for shit) in which NHS for Reasons (time-travel? Letter from the future? His massive brain?) realises just how much damage WWX is doing to his public image. And he might be a sheltered dandy, but he saw what being the son of a sex worker did to Meng Yao despite how hard he worked (I’m assuming he doesn’t know about the whole betrayal business). This is way fucking worse, like hell is he going to let one of his best friends paint a target on his back. So he pulls back his sleeves, engages his slytherin brain and proceeds to lay down a plan to throughly destroy WWX’s reputation as a powerful genius.

I’m guessing LWJ and JC protest, and maybe WWX, and NHS just hits them with “do you want him respected or alive?” And they shut tf up. He glues himself to WWX, and brings up as many instances in which their behaviour can be compared as he can (we got drunk and punished at cloud recesses, we slept in class, we skipped to go fishing, I don’t carry my sword either). And, because assholes be assholes, people like Sect Leader Yao or Clown Cousin are quick to start spouting their own derogatory bullshit and thus WWX the untamed powerful prodigy dies a fiery death. Now he’s just a mouthy kid with a quick mind that “does tricks instead of battle” (I’ll never get bored of using that Thor quote). I also like to think that people who personally know WWX and are not pieces of shit go give NHS a tongue lashing for messing with what they thought was his friend, NHS takes that as a test of good eggness and bring them into the plan. Soon the whole Cloud Recesses class is swearing up, down, left, right and centre that all the shit WWX has ever successfully pulled is just an insane amount of luck and quick thinking.

I don’t know how would they work him into the battlefield (disguise? Mask?) to unleash his demonic cultivation but that’s Plot and I don’t do that.

Also, because I’m a terrible human being I want to say that people assume LWJ is on “pretty but useless” WWX like white on rice because *insert derogatory comment about being good in bed and sexual favours*. Because y’all know the assholes here are Like That. And WWX is horrified because holy fucking shit he’s gonna drag LWJ’s reputation down, he can’t have people thinking HGJ is ok with having him as a concubine pretty much. But before he can act LWJ politely all but confirms that yeah, he’s tapping that, y’all wish you were but he doesn’t share and none of y’all are good enough for his Wei Ying anyway. CUE FAKE/PRETEND RELATIONSHIP BECAUSE I AM INDEED TRASH FOR THAT TROPE.

Muahahahaha y’all thought I was gonna devolve into my personal hcs and not include my fave trope? Shouldn’t y’all know me better by now?

(Btw I like this bit ^ so I might polish it a little and post it separately as well, just a warning if you find yourself reading an eerily similar post by me)

WuJi is playing and LWJ is pining so much. Also, if LWJ did not just realise that, just like Yu the Great, WWX had no other option but tame resentful energy I’ll eat my blanket.

I refuse to believe Jiang Yanli didn’t become the unofficial war camp therapist/sounding board/only sane person/everyone’s mum/I just need a hug and a corner to cry in peace. There are not enough fics about Shijie being her gentle BAMF self while in the camp and it’s a pity. My crops are dying y’all!

Also, I will fight anyone who scoffs at Shijie being the epitome of the “gentle woman who cooks and waits for the men to come back from war”. Look at her mum, do you think it is easy for a kid (she was a kid in the flashback when WWX ran away) to see that day in and day out, to have that as a “role model” and decide that she was not going to be like her mum? That she didn’t like what she saw in her so she was going to be kind and gentle? And do you think it is easy for a person barely in their twenties to deal with years of verbal and psychological abuse for again, being gentle and kind, and not grow a hard shell of bitterness to protect themselves? And to keep being gentle and kind while at war, with your parents dead and your siblings unraveling before your very eyes? Shijie is so fucking strong and I love her.

Hey look, the White Walkers!

“Resentful energy is just energy” ok, valid. But my dude, you’ve got black ghost smoke coming out of you and can hear people screaming in your head. I’m not saying it is evil, like someone’s uptight set in his ways arrogant uncle; but it sure as shit ain’t healthy.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH (that’s a Clown Cousin scream btw)

Ok ok, just one little thing: IF SOMEONE ELSE CALLS WWX WEI YING AS A SHOW OF DISRESPECT IMMA SCALP THEM.

...are those crows eating that man alive? Yikes on bikes.

(Assume my comment about YiBo’s Guqin playing also goes for Xiao Zhan and his flute. I can’t play the flute but the tempo doesn’t match his fingers)

I’m just gonna say it, I think 3zun (well, 2zun as of now) suspect shit went down badly for WWX, that’s two questions by both of them in a very soft conciliatory tone. They are genuinely interested/worried about the topic, and don’t seem to come off as chiding or judgemental. I mean WWX is a weirdo irreverent kid and they’re sect leaders, they outrank him so much it’s ridiculous. I’m also counting the fact that both their baby brothers like him towards them being so kind. But I also think WWX just triggers all their big brother instincts the second he walks in.

Oh there’s a thought, Shijie, Wen Qing, NMJ and LXC take a look at everyone’s shitty parents and just decide to adopt everyone.

What happened at Yiling was a traumatised teenager (is WWX even 20?) PTSDing all over the place with the Dark Side of the Force whispering in his ear and an all powerful trinket at his disposal. Not saying I approve of all the torture and murder but he clearly isn’t revelling in them.

That is some outstanding bit of big-brothering on LXC’s side and I love it. Also, my dumbass just realised LWJ probably wasn’t quoting WWX when he was being punished (what is white what is black?) I think he was quoting his big brother. Which is magnitudes deep too, but in a different direction and I might love that scene even more.

Ok fuck it, I’m gonna tangent. So I had a terrible boyfriend when I was 15-18. He alienated me from my friends, sunk my self-esteem to the molten core of the earth, tried to convince me my parents were abusive and encouraged (aka threatened manipulated and cajoled) the slow tanking of my high school marks. I have A Problem when I see media where someone latches onto their significant other and everything they are shifts towards that person. Now, love, true genuine love, is powerful, and I believe it can be the catalyst for shifting your world-view for the better. I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t have a problem with people sticking with their romantic partner if it is clear their previous “family” is so much shit. I don’t have a problem with LWJ coming out of his shell and defying corrupt precepts because his love for WWX made them see they were wrong, or getting sassy and unrepentant during his punishment (I have a problem with the punishment bc that’s abuse but...). But I do side-eye WangXian being the only thing in their orbit. People need people, and WangXian have other good people around them. So I kind of love that yes, WWX showed him the system was corrupt, but it is the words of his brother he is sticking by to the defy said system.

Let’s go back to our scheduled slew of held pinning glances shall we?

LXC after That awkward run-in: WangJi I wasn’t gone that long, what the fuck did you two oblivious pining idiots do?

(LXC has “bitching” tea sessions with Shijie and you can’t convince me otherwise)

LWJ: *is being dramatic and not knocking on WWX’s door*

Me: oh my god you fucking idiot

Shijie: *walks in*

Me: oh thank god someone with a braincell.

Ah yes, there we go triggering WWX’s paranoia again. Why would he get a break.

OH MY GOD YOU PAIR OF FUCKING IDIOTS. THATS IT, FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT.

@ LWJ: bitch wtf was that? I know you’re shit at talking but have you thought about writing it down? Letters anyone? It worked for mr. Darcy.

(Yes LWJ is mr darcy and now I want an au where LWJ writes WWX letters and just pours everything in them, WWX finds them, any everything is sunshine and rainbows)

While this bullshit fight/misunderstanding is all on LWJ’s shoulders, I’m also going to scream at WWX. Because yes, he is in PTSD hell, but he trusted LWJ before, and yet he can’t get past his perceived notion of LWJ’s character (and his own inadequacies) to trust him again and ask for help. Plus, you know, he thinks he doesn’t deserve he’ll bc *waves hand at WWX’s trauma conga line*

These episodes can’t be good for my BP.

Thanks for reading!

#the untamed #cql #mdzs live action #mdzs #foxglove watches cql #foxglove watches the untamed #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #yunmeng trio #yunmeng siblings #commentary

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smkkbert · 4 years

Text

Time for a story - A husband’s job

Closing his eyes briefly, Oliver sucked in another deep breath of the fresh morning air. At the beginning of November, it was increasingly cold. He knew it was only a matter of time for Felicity to lecture him that he had to dress differently for his morning runs, so he wouldn’t be sick.

Just the thought of it amused Oliver. Every single day on the island had been colder than it could ever be here, and Lian Yu hadn’t offered any warm clothes either. It had prompted him to adapt to cold, so, whenever others felt cold, he could just chuckle. It had also helped him to strengthen his immunity to sicknesses of all kinds. He was barely ever cold.

Oliver turned into the driveway of his home at exactly five-fifty-two. Nodding his head, he smiled. He was more than satisfied with his time. He was all the more satisfied with Hawk’s time as the young dog had done really great today.

“Come here, Hawk,” Oliver said, and Hawk stepped closer to him quickly, “you have done good today. You are a good boy.”

Since Oliver had returned from his five years away, he hadn’t been a good sleeper. When he had gotten together with Felicity, that had caused problems. He had woken up around four in the morning, ready to start his day, but Felicity had slept next to him. He hadn’t wanted to wake her up, so he had done his best to just lie still and let her sleep for as long as she wanted to. Eventually, they had agreed that he was allowed to sneak out of bed by four-thirty to go for a run.

Having a training partner with him was a great experience. He knew that he would never get Felicity to run with him. Hawk loved it all the more, and he was making sure that Oliver got back into his best training form. His energy was motivating.

Petting Hawk’s fur with one hand, he loosened Hawk’s leash and nodded towards the house. Immediately, Hawk waggled his tail. Oliver didn’t need to say it for Hawk to know what would come right now.

“What do you say, Hawk?” Oliver asked. “A little race to the house? The winner gets five minutes of snuggle with Felicity.”

Hawk barked, giving his consent to the race. No more words were needed. Both of them started running to the door, activating the last of their energies to make this run. Although they both gave their best, Hawk won the race by far.

Chuckling, Oliver came to a stop in front of the door. Turning to Hawk, he patted his hand on his chest. Immediately, Hawk lifted onto his hindlegs, putting his front paws to Oliver’s chest. Oliver smiled, kissing Hawk’s nose.

Back when he had agreed to getting a dog, allowing Bruce to choose one that he thought fit into the family and gifting it to Felicity, Oliver had never believed that he would love this dog so much. He couldn’t have been more wrong. He was exactly that kind of person he had made fun of once upon a time. He was the kind of guy that loved his dog like a child.

Hawk had just enriched their family life in a way Oliver had never thought was possible. He was making sure that everyone was coming together at least every once in a while. He was spending the kids as well as him and Felicity comfort. He was giving Oliver strength in therapy, accompanying him to every single session.

“Good boy,” Oliver whispered and kissed his nose once more, “you deserve the snuggle with Felicity.”

When Oliver unlocked the front door, Hawk pushed past him to get in first. He didn’t hurry upstairs to get his prize though. Instead, he hurried into the kitchen to get some water Oliver guessed.

He, on the other hand, would use that time to quickly get some snuggles with Felicity first. He slipped out of his shoes and hurried upstairs. It was almost six now which was the time his alarm would go off in case he slept so long. Oliver would turn around to tell Felicity that he was heading under the shadow, and Felicity would either use those minutes to catch some more sleep or she would choose to be waken up and follow him into the shower.

Oliver opened the door as quietly as possible and slipped inside. He wanted to close the door to make it even harder for Hawk to come into the room and steal Felicity’s attention. He knew that Hawk would just jump up the door and onto the door handle to open it. They were trying to stop him from doing that, and closed doors didn’t help. Hence, he left the door ajar.

He tiptoed to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Felicity didn’t even stir. She continued to lie there motionlessly, looking unbelievable beautiful as she was sleeping peacefully. He could easily fall in love with her all over again, and he probably just did.

“Felicity,” he whispered, and it caused Felicity to take in a deep breath, “I’m back.”

Felicity grumbled slightly and turned her head to the other side. She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t have to. Oliver could already see that she was still so very tired that there was no way for him to get her to join him in the shower. Tugging some strands of her blonde curls out of Felicity’s face, he could see the small furrow between her eyebrows. She really didn’t want to wake up.

“I will head under the shower before I wake you,” Oliver whispered, gently stroking his fingertips against the furrow between her eyebrows until Felicity relaxed a little, “sleep tight.”

Smiling, Oliver leaned down and brushed his lips against Felicity’s forehead. As soon as his lips touched her warm skin, he stopped and frowned though. Felicity’s forehead wasn’t only warm. It was warmer than it should be. Felicity was running a slight fever.

Oliver bit back a deep sigh upon pulling back. He put his hand to her forehead for a moment before he rested both palms against her slightly reddened cheeks. Looking at her face thoroughly now, he could see that she was pale. In contrast to that, the skin under her eyes were darkened by shadows. They weren’t showing completely yet, but they were already there.

With a low sigh, Oliver shook his head. He shouldn’t be surprised that Felicity had caught a slight infection. Last weekend, it had been Tommy. Last week, it had been Addie. Before her, it had been Emmy, who had caught the infection in school. In a house with five children, four of them under ten years, one always infected the other. Felicity was particularly endangered when it came to infections because the kids always needed her the most when they were sick.

The problem was that Felicity wasn’t an easy patient. While the kids preferred to be cuddled 24/7 when they were sick, Felicity liked to ignore it. If Oliver gave her the chance to do it, she would just go to work until she either fell asleep at her desk or just passed out. Knowing Felicity would fight any symptom of the infection for as long as possible, it would probably end with the latter.

When Hawk came into the room, pushing the door open with his nose, Oliver moved aside quickly. Hawk didn’t hesitate as he jumped into the bed and snuggled up to Felicity. Attracted to the warm fur, Felicity rolled onto her side and wrapped an arm around Hawk. She pushed her face into his fur with a soft sight.

Pursing his lips, Oliver grabbed his phone from his nightstand and moved into the bedroom. He had already unlocked the display and found Emily’s name in his contacts by the time he sat down on the edge of the bathtub. With a single movement of his thumb, he made the call.

“Good morning, Oliver,” Emily said, taking the call quickly, “what can I do for you?”

Oliver wasn’t surprised that Emily sounded like she had been awake for hours already. Knowing Emily, Oliver wouldn’t be surprised if she really had been. Emily worked day and night if necessary. When he had become mayor, he had been disappointed that he couldn’t have snapped her from Felicity’s fingers. With Becky, Felicity had found someone just as great as Emily though.

“Hi, Emily.” Oliver sighed. “Felicity’s sick. She’s not coming to work today.”

“Really? Did you handcuff her to the bed or what did you do?”

Oliver chuckled. “I hope that I will get around doing so, but I will definitely do it if that’s what is necessary.”

“I don’t doubt that.” The amusement was definitely audible in her voice. “Anyway, Felicity doesn’t have any important appointments anyway. She was supposed to make one or two important phone calls, but I will call Mr. Wayne’s assistant and ask if he can do that instead.”

“He will do it.”

Oliver didn’t have any doubt. He knew Bruce and his feelings for Felicity well enough to know that he would do everything she could possibly need. As distant and as business-orientated he could seem, Oliver knew better than that.

“Thank you, Emily,” Oliver said. “See you soon.”

“See you.”

As soon as they had hung up, Oliver dialed Becky’s number. There was one more thing he would have to do to increase his chances of making Felicity stay home. He knew Felicity, and he knew what she needed to agree on staying home or to give into it more easily at least.

“Oliver?”

Unlike Emily, Becky sounded like he had just pulled her from her sleep. He wasn’t surprised by that either. He knew that Becky worked best when she put a little pressure on herself which was why she always set her alarm late, so she would have to hurry to get home.

“Sorry for waking you up, Becky, but you have to cancel all my appointments for today.”

“Oh, who’s sick now? Millie? William?”

“Felicity,” Oliver replied with a smile, “I will stay home with her to make sure she gets the rest she needs. Otherwise, she is going to work from bed or, even worse, escape the bed as soon as I have left the house.”

“No worries. I will handle everything. If anything important comes up, I will tell Mr. Diggle.”

“Perfect. Thanks.”

Ending the phone call, Oliver hurried to slip out of his clothes and hop into the shower. While the water was pelting down on his shoulders, massaging the tight spots on his shoulders and the back of his neck, Oliver tried to figure out how to tell Felicity that she had to stay home today. He already knew that it wasn’t going to be easy.

Felicity hated staying home and doing nothing. She was usually full of energy, so there was always enough of it to spread it between Queen Incorporated, Team Green Arrow work, five kids and him. That said a lot about her energy because being his wife alone had to cost a lot of energy. He wasn’t the easiest husband to care for.

The thought made Oliver grin a little. Turning off the water stream, he stepped out of the shower cabin and toweled himself. He hurried to slip into his sweat pants and a white shirt.

Stepping back into the bedroom, Oliver found Felicity curled up against Hawk’s back. Both of them were sleeping peacefully. Soft snoring came from the pillows at the head of the bed, but Oliver couldn’t say if it was Felicity or Hawk who was snoring. It didn’t matter anyway.

Oliver sat down on the edge of the bed once more. Brushing Felicity’s hair out of her face, he leaned over her and touched her forehead with his lips. Her skin still felt warm.

“Felicity,” he whispered with low voice, “hon.”

Felicity groaned, not yet opening her eyes. She turned her head, so she was facing him. The small furrow between her eyebrows told Oliver that she was caught on the verge between sleep and wake.

Brushing his fingers through her curly hair, he whispered, “Hon, I canceled your appointments for the day.”

He knew it wasn’t exactly fair to wake her up that way. It was like ripping off the plaster before you had counted to three. Since their mornings were determined by a tide schedule that was only going to get more stressful when one of them dropped out, he couldn’t waste much time. Besides, Felicity would have to know that she had to stay home sooner or later anyway.

“You should stay home,” he told Felicity with whispered voice, “you’re sick.”

Usually, Felicity would frown at him angrily and try to fight him about it. He could even see how some muscles in her face were twitching in a weak attempt to show any anger. Her eyes were so glazed and her muscles so weak that it didn’t work though. She just looked utterly exhausted.

“I’m trying really hard to be mad at you,” Felicity said with raspy voice.”

“I know.”

“It doesn’t work though.”

“I know.” Oliver smiled softly. “To make it easier for you, I will stay home too to take care of you.”

“I won’t make it easy for you.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Oliver leaned down and placed a kiss to the corner of her lips. “Just close your eyes and sleep for a little longer. I will make sure the kids get all ready for the day.”

“I will come with you and-“

As soon as Felicity tried to sit up, Oliver pushed her back down at her shoulders. Felicity was too weak to even try to put up a fight. She just dropped back into the pillows with a tired yawn.

“I’ll do that. Just rest.”

He placed another kiss on her forehead and tugged the blanket closer around her. He knew it was stupid because she was no little kid, but he felt better doing so. After his time spent on the island, he knew what it was like to feel cold. From the slight trembling of Felicity’s body, he could see that she was feeling utterly cold.

Seeing her like that, Oliver wished that he could just snuggle up to her under the blanket. He wanted to wrap his arms around her as tightly as possible. Embraced by him, she would hopefully feel better.

Since he had to take care of the kids, he was relieved that Hawk took over the task of warming Felicity up. He crawled closer to Felicity, making sure that she could feel his warmth. She turned onto her side and snuggled back up to him, so his warmth affected her.

Oliver could watch the two of them forever, but he knew that he had to get downstairs. Breakfast wasn’t going to make itself.

With a brief glance at his watch, Oliver hurried downstairs. He knew he had to hurry because the kids always liked to waste a lot of time in the morning. He and Felicity usually had to kick their little butts a bit to make sure they left the house in time.

With that knowledge, Oliver just cracked some eggs into the pen and toasted some slices of bread. It wasn’t his favorite breakfast to make because he preferred to feed the kids some well-needed vitamins before letting them leave for the day, but Oliver guessed that he didn’t have much of a choice. He couldn’t let them be late for school.

As soon as the eggs were done, he pushed the pen off the hotplate and put the lid on top to keep the food warm. He hurried upstairs to wake the kids then.

Light was already coming from William’s room. He always set his alarm instead of letting Oliver or Felicity wake him. Usually, Oliver only saw him once he got downstairs, but today, he knocked at William’s door and stepped in as soon as his son allowed him to.

“Morning,” Oliver said, sticking his head in through the ajar door, “sorry to bother, but Felicity’s sick.”

William perked up his eyebrows. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Oliver sighed. “I will wake your siblings now. I could need your help downstairs though.”

William nodded. “I’ll hurry.”

“Thank you.”

There had been a time that Oliver had felt guilty about how much William had to cut back sometimes. When he was here, he often had to be considerate of his siblings because they were just so much younger than him. Family activities always had to be suitable for all kids which usually meant that they were child-friendly.

By now, Oliver knew that William liked being a big brother and taking responsibilities for them. The kids were looking up to him. They loved him, and he loved them.

Oliver proceeded waking up everyone else. He knocked at Emmy’s door and wasn’t surprised to find her lying across the bed with the blanket wrapped around her middle. Tommy needed several kisses and a long hug to get out of bed. Millie opened her eyes with a smile the moment Oliver stepped into the room, and Addie looked at him grumpily before he even got to tell her good morning.

He took Millie and Addie downstairs with him already. Usually, he and Felicity would both dress one of the two before taking them downstairs. Since he had to handle the morning alone, he felt it was the best to just let them have breakfast in their pajamas. There were a lot of things you learned about kids when you became a parent, and one of the most precious experience Oliver had made was figuring out that, if you tried to dress the kids in a hurry, it would only end in tears.

Downstairs in the kitchen, he lifted both girls into his arms and sat them down in the high chairs. He put some of the scrambled eggs on their plates and handed them their small forks that were particularly for kids. Millie was already quite trained in eating with it, while Addie still had her troubles. She wouldn’t let anybody help her though.

“Dada, where’s mama?”

With a sigh, Oliver brushed his fingers through Millie’s dark hair. She looked exactly like Felicity looked in old photos from her childhood. Just like Tommy, she had inherited Felicity’s naturally dark hair. Unlike Tommy’s hair, Millie’s was just as curly as their mother’s too.

“Mommy’s in bed,” he replied, “because she’s feeling sick.”

“Sick?” Addie asked while she was chewing her eggs. “How?”

“She is running a fever,” Oliver explained gently, “so she is feeling very tired, and she needs to rest. Daddy is going to stay home with her to make sure that she will get everything she needs to get better soon.”

“Tea, rusk and cuddles?”

Oliver smiled. “Tea, rusk and cuddles.”

“Rusk is yuck,” Addie said, shaking her head, “yuck, yuck, yuck.”

“I am almost sure that that’s going to be mommy’s reaction too,” Oliver said with a sigh and tickled Addie under her chin, “so maybe tea, soup and cuddles it’s going to be.”

“I can cuddle with mama too,” Millie offered proudly, “she taked care of me when I was sick.”

“She took very good care of you when you were sick.” Oliver tipped his forefinger on the tip of Millie’s nose. “We don’t want you to be sick again though which is why you and Addie will go on a little trip with Raisa today.”

“Cool!” Millie’s eyes grew wide. “Where?”

“It’s going to be a surprise,” Oliver lied as he didn’t have an answer to that yet, “but I can tell that it’s going to be very, very cool.”

Luckily, before Millie could ask any further questions, Oliver heard steps from the chairs. He hurried to spread the left scrambled eggs on the three plates for William, Emmy and Tommy. He also added a few slices of toasts to each plate and already held them out for the kids when they entered.

“Thanks, Dad.”

William grabbed his plate and hurried to sit down next to Addie, casually using his fork to push the remaining eggs closer together on her plate to make it easier for her. He fully ignored Addie’s protests that she could do it on her own.

Tommy smiled at Oliver when he handed him his plate. Emmy just looked at him with sleepy eyes. She sat down at the table and started picking in her food. She looked like she was about to fall asleep again right here with her face in her breakfast.

Usually, this was the time for him to prepare the kids’ lunch snacks for school. Given how much he loved cooking and how much he loved keeping an eye on a healthy family diet, he always put a lot of effort and energy into this. It bothered him a little that he wouldn’t get to prepare the kids’ lunch today, especially because he knew what they would probably have for lunch instead.

“Okay, here are ten dollars for each of you to buy yourself some lunch,” he said, handing his three oldest the money, “but please don’t use it just for sweets. If you buy a few sweets for dessert that’s okay, but you need real lunch.”

Emmy stared at the banknote like she had never seen one before. Frowning, she looked back and forth between the banknote and her father. She almost looked like she expected Oliver to tell her that she had to eat that small piece of paper for lunch.

“What’s that?”

“Money,” Oliver explained matter-of-factly, “which is the usual thing to use when you want to buy lunch.”

“But I never buy lunch,” Emmy said, her frown deepening, “because you always prepare our lunch.”

“Mommy is sick, so I didn’t have time to prepare lunch this morning,” Oliver explained calmly before he looked at William, “can you take my car and drop Emmy and Tommy at school on the way?”

“Sure.” William nodded before he frowned. “Felicity wanted to check a homework I have to hand in tomorrow. I have a couple free periods today, so I could work on that.”

“I will check if she had already taken a look at it.”

With that, Oliver hurried upstairs. There had been a time that he had been at least a little bit disappointed that his kids preferred to have Felicity check their homework. By now, he was relieved that at least William never asked. He had taken a look at one or two essays he had written, and Oliver had barely understood any of it.

As quietly as possible, he opened the door to the bedroom. While Felicity didn’t move, Hawk lifted his head from the pillow and looked at Oliver with a punishing gaze.

“Sorry,” he whispered more to the sleeping Felicity than to Hawk, “but William needed his homework.”

“On my nightstand,” Felicity replied sleepily, pointing a finger onto her nightstand, “all done.”

Oliver crossed the distance quickly. He grabbed the papers from the nightstand and leaned over Felicity’s head to brush a gentle kiss onto her cheekbone.

Fairytales might make little kids believe that all stepmothers were bad, but Felicity did the best she could to prove that the dark sides of fairytales weren’t true. There were stepmothers out there who loved their stepchildren as much as their own. There were stepmothers that made no difference between stepchildren and own children, stepmothers that didn’t care about that ungrateful prefix of their title. Felicity was definitely one of them.

Back downstairs, Oliver handed William the essay. Continuing to push scrambled eggs into his mouth with one hand, he skimmed through the commentary Felicity had left for him at the margin of the paper.

“I don’t understand half of these comments. Maybe I can-“

“Felicity needs her rest,” Oliver said gently, shaking his head, “you can ask her later if she is fitter then.”

William sighed, but he nodded his head. Still frowning, he continued reading the essay. His frown only seemed to deepen with everything he was reading.

Oliver was about to turn to Millie and offer her some grapes now that she had finished her scrambled eggs. Before he could do so, Tommy suddenly threw his fork across the room.

“Hey,” Oliver said loudly, turning towards him, “what are you doing?”

“If mama’s sick, I stay home too.”

Frowning at Oliver grumpily, Tommy crossed his arms in front of his chest. He looked quite determined, like nothing Oliver or anyone else could say or do would make him change his mind. If Felicity was staying home because she was sick, he wouldn’t leave her side.

A part of Oliver wanted to tell Tommy that Felicity really needed her rest now, and she wouldn’t have that with all the kids around her. He knew that Tommy would only get angrier if Oliver told him any of that though. He wouldn’t understand why he couldn’t help Felicity to feel better, and the last thing Oliver needed on top of everything else this morning was for Tommy to throw a temper tantrum.

“I want help mama too.”

With a sigh, Oliver turned to Millie. She didn’t look like she wanted to fight Oliver as much as Tommy did, but she seemed quite determined on her decision too. If he didn’t get a handle on this soon, nobody would go to school today.

That Addie hadn’t eaten a bit of her breakfast since Oliver had mentioned that Felicity was sick didn’t make it any easier. Addie was already quite light for her age and her height. She had to eat to at least maintain her weight if it didn’t increase yet.

Oliver rubbed his thumb against the tips of his fingers, taking some deep breaths. Usually, a situation like this was easy for him to handle. Usually, Felicity was at his side though. She always fooled around with the kids, making them smile and giggle to ease the situation. That was her magic.

“Okay, listen,” Oliver said, finding his calm again, “I have a suggestion.”

All kids, including William, looked at him. It was actually quite interesting to see how much all of them were affected by the fact that Felicity was sick. For a long time, he had believed that he was the only one whose life felt like it was getting out of control when Felicity was sick. In a lot of ways, she was the glue of the family, the one to mediate between all of them and to make them stick together even more tightly.

“We give mommy the rest she needs today and tomorrow,” he said, “but we will all do something great on Saturday. What do you say?”

“And what do we do?” Emmy asked, narrowing her eyes down at Oliver.

“We can talk about that tonight.”

“With pizza,” Addie said.

Oliver perked up his eyebrows. “You want pizza for dinner?”

She nodded her head firmly, making all her blonde curls jump up and down around her face.

“Okay,” he gave in because it seemed like the easiest way to calm the situation down once and for all, “we will talk about what we are going to do together while we are having pizza for dinner.”

Emmy, Tommy, Millie and Addie all cheered and exchanged high-fives. Oliver shot a glance at William, and he wasn’t surprised to find his oldest son doing his best to bite back a grin. The five had certainly used his short trip upstairs to decide how they could make him agree to order pizza for dinner. When it came to eating habits, they were all taking after Felicity.

Some other time, he might take revenge on them for it. Today there was just no time for that.

“Okay, you three,” he said and counted at William, Emmy and Tommy, “have to go upstairs and brush your teeth. Chop-chop.”

The kids didn’t have to be told twice. They dropped their cutlery to their tabletop and hurried upstairs. Oliver could hear William hushing his little siblings, reminding them that Felicity needed her rest.

Oliver just shook his head, releasing a deep sigh. If there was one thing for sure, it was that it wasn’t ever getting boring here.

→ → → → →

With another glance at his watch, Oliver decided that he should really be allowed to wake up Felicity now. He was all in for letting sick people stay in bed for as long as they wanted and needed, but he also firmly believed in airing bedrooms. Oliver didn’t doubt that the air was completely used up upstairs.

Oliver hurried upstairs and slipped into the bedroom quietly. By now, Felicity was lying across the mattress with the blanket covering her from the head to the toes. Only some tips of her hair sneaked out from under the blanket. The pot of tea he had brought upstairs for her a few hours ago was still untouched on the nightstand.

Pursing his lips, Oliver cocked his head. Even though he couldn’t really see Felicity, he already felt sorry for her. He barely remembered what it was like feeling sick because he barely ever was sick, but he could assume how hard it was. She had to feel really bad if she just wanted to shut out the world around her and crawl into her black hole.

At least Hawk was with her. He had rested his head on her knees, sleeping peacefully. Since he had jumped into bed this morning, he hadn’t left her side at all. He hadn’t even had breakfast yet, and he still didn’t complain. He just stayed by her side, spending comfort the same way he did when Oliver was in therapy.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Oliver stroked his hand down Felicity’s body under the blanket. She released a low sound, making him know what she was awake although she probably hoped that she’d still be fast asleep.

“You should come downstairs,” he suggested with lowered voice, assuming that she was suffering from a terrible headache, “so we can air the room a little.”

“Don’t want to get up.”

Oliver felt the corners of his lips twitching in response to her grumpy voice. She sounded like Emmy when someone tried to drag her out of the bed before ten a.m. on a Sunday morning.

“You could continue napping on the couch. There are fresh blankets and fluffy pillows.”

“Don’t want to go downstairs.”

“You don’t have to,” Oliver replied gently, “I’m going to carry you.”

There was a brief pause as Felicity considered her options. After some seconds, she eventually lowered the blanket from her face and looked at him. The expression in her eyes was hazy, and a fine film of sweat covered her pale face. Oliver put a hand to her forehead to feel that her skin was still warmer than it should be.

“Fine,” she said grumpily, „but I want to take my blanket downstairs.”

Oliver tried to hide his amusement. If the angry glance Felicity shot him was any indication, it didn’t exactly work though. Felicity could still see it, but he wasn’t surprised. She could always read in him like in an open book.

Since Oliver knew he would only make it worse if he said anything now, he simply pushed his arms under Felicity’s body and lifted her into his arms. Although her blanket certainly offered warmth already, she still snuggled as close to Oliver as possible. Her head rested right under his chin.

When Oliver turned to take her downstairs, Hawk jumped out of the bed and ran ahead quickly. Oliver only followed slowly, doing his best to make sure the blanket wouldn’t move from Felicity’s body. She was trembling from the cold already.

Downstairs in the living room, Oliver lay Felicity down on the couch. He exchanged her blanket against two fluffy wool blankets. Although Felicity released a dissatisfied sound at that, not happy with the cool fabric that was covering her now, she pulled the blanket as close around her possibly. She would never admit it, but Oliver was sure that she could smell the difference too. The new blankets just weren’t as overused and sweat through.

Hawk jumped to the foot of the couch, lying down at Felicity’s feet. He rested his head on her ankles and released a deep sigh.

“Do you want me to switch on TV for you?” Oliver asked, turning towards Felicity once more. “In the meantime, I could get you some of the soup I have cooked for you.”

“I am not hungry.”

“I know.” Oliver sighed, combing his fingers through Felicity’s hair. “You have to eat something though, and it’s Raisa’s special chicken soup. It will work its magic on you too. Trust me, it always does.”

Felicity scrunched up her nose. Even just the thought of food seemed to disgust her. Nonetheless, she nodded her head. She knew that Raisa’s soup could work magic. Even the kids could be convinced to eat something when they were sick, at least if it was Raisa’s special soup.

Oliver grabbed the remote from the couch table and switched on the TV. It didn’t offer anything really good, but at least one of those wildlife channels offered a documentary about koalas. They looked plushy and sweet, so he guessed it was something Felicity would like to watch.

He kissed her forehead and went into the kitchen. He had put the pot of soup to the hotplate, still warming the food. He lifted the lid from the pot and breathed in the delicious steam that came from the pot. Maybe he would eat a plate of soup today too.

For now, he just filled some of the soup on one plate. He had to make sure that Felicity was getting something good into her stomach before he would even serious consider eating anything. He could live without food for days. He had learned to ignore hunger after all. He hated the thought that anyone close to him didn’t eat regularly though.

With the plate in one hand and a spoon in one hand, Oliver returned to the living room. When he saw Felicity hidden behind the blanket completely, he stopped and cocked his head though. Maybe she was feeling a lot worse than he had suspected so far.

Hawk’s dark growling made Oliver direct his attention towards the TV that Hawk was growling at. Two kangaroos were jumping across the screen.

Quickly, Oliver stepped towards the couch table. He grabbed the remote and switched off the TV. He knew how much Felicity hated kangaroos. They completely freaked her out. Whenever they were in the zoo together, she hid behind him whenever they just got anywhere near their enclosure. She was as afraid of kangaroos as other women were of spiders.

“You do know that they are just on TV, right?”

“I’m sick,” Felicity grumbled from under the blanket, “so you are not allowed to mock me. Besides, they look like they are attacking me.”

Oliver put the plate of soup on the table and sat down on the couch. Pressing his lips together, he pulled down the blanket, so he could see her face. Her eyes were widened as much as the swelling around her eyes allowed her to open her eyes.

“Would I let anything or anyone attack you?”

“Why don’t you ever get sick?” Felicity suddenly changed the subject and frowned at him angrily. “It’s not fair!”

Oliver puckered his lips. If he was honest, he believed that those five years away had just made him immune to any kind of sickness. He had been so traumatized that his body had adapted to the constant stress. Even now, years after he had returned from living through that hell, his body was still running with all the adrenaline and all that stress hormones in his veins. They fought of any infection that threatened to take hold of him.

“The good thing,” Olive told her gently, “is that, if you are sick and I’m not, I can take very good care of you.”

Felicity grumbled, but she nodded her head briefly. No matter how grumpy she thought she looked, Oliver could see that she had already given in. She agreed with him because deep down she already knew that she was right.

When her gaze turned towards the soup on the couch table, Oliver smiled. That she could look at food without feeling sick was certainly a good sign. Maybe all the rest this morning had helped, and she was feeling a little better already.

Oliver adjusted the pillows behind Felicity’s back, helping her to sit up a little straighter. He grabbed the plate of soup from the couch table, and Felicity already reached out her hands for it, but Oliver didn’t give it to her. Instead, he filled a spoon with the soup and led it to Felicity’s lips. Felicity hesitated for a moment before she let him feed him.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” he asked after she had swallowed the first spoon of soup. “I knew you needed this soup.”

“And what else do you have up your sleeves for me, Mr. Queen?”

“Just the usual duty of a husband,” Oliver said, “making sure you keep warm and cozy. Get you some soup to make you feel better and maybe some ice cream for your throat if you behave. And after that, maybe we could take a bath together.”

Felicity nodded her head slowly, and she even managed the smallest of a smile. When he fed her the next spoon, Felicity put a hand to his knee and scratched her fingernails over his jeans.

“Maybe being sick is not that bad after all.”

* * *

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