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aflame4goinghome · 7 months

Text

Part Of The Band

j.t.k x f.reader

part one

a/n: this is my first time writing Jake and I have to admit that it’s been so intimidating. he was the one I was soooo scared to write, since he’s my main lane. I plan to make this into a series, so I really hope you all enjoy it :)

word count: 5k

summary: your best friend asks you to come with her to a concert for a band that you’re unfamiliar with. your decision to go proves to have more repercussions than you thought when you run into the band at your favorite bar after the show. you never would have imagined the pull that you’d feel toward their guitarist, or that you would somehow manage to capture his attention…

warnings: yearning, some cussing, mentions of alcohol, smoking. some parts are slightly sexually implicit, including: light groping, kissing, and some sexual language. minors beware! the next part will definitely contain smut.

You’ve never been one to pass up on a night out, especially if it involves music. Music is something that you actively search for constantly, it defines you. You’d do anything to just be able to listen to live music, to close your eyes and just feel it flow through your body. Since you lack any actual musical talent besides half-decent singing, you just listen to it as much as you can.

So, when your roommate and best friend, Sophie, asked you to come with her to a concert tonight last minute, you could hardly just say no. Did you have a big midterm tomorrow afternoon that you needed to study for? Maybe. But live music always comes first. Sophie was always finding last-minute concerts for you to go to together- it was kind of your thing. This time, however, it was a band you didn’t really know.

You’re pretty sure you’ve heard one of their singles, Heat Above, online somewhere a few times but that was the most knowledge you had of Greta Van Fleet. You don’t know much about their background or their names, just that they make rock music and that’s all you need to be convinced to go. You and Sophie had always found yourselves at the Greek Theatre for just about any kind of concert, so this wasn’t a new thing for you.

The show is meant to start at 7:00 pm, but Sophie is always determined to be as close to the stage as possible, so you’re getting ready in the afternoon to get there around 2:30 or 3 o’clock. In the name of comfortability, you opt to wear ripped black skinny jeans, a white halter top, and your Doc Martens. You keep your hair down, wavy and lying right below your shoulders. You put on some simple makeup, just to cover up any blemishes you might have, do some tight-lined eyeliner, and put on a bit of your favorite silver eyeshadow. You take a deep breath. Okay, you’re ready.

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Sophie calls your Uber over to the Greek and you both arrive there just in time. You see about 50 people there already, so you both know that you’ll have a great spot in the small pit. You guys sit down at the end of the line and make yourselves comfortable to wait in the line for several hours until you’re let into the venue. Late October in LA can be pretty comfortable, today is in the mid-70s, so it isn’t a terrible day to camp out. You and Sophie talk about schoolwork, gossip about your friends, and play various games until it’s suddenly 6 o’clock and it’s time to head into the venue.

The group walks down the steps of the Greek and security has the line start all the way to the left of the pit. You and Sophie end up standing toward the front of the right side of the stage, which you’re perfectly content with. It’s not long before the openers come on- they were all great. The energy in the theatre was amazing and the weather was beautiful, it was like a dream.

Next thing you know, the lights go out and it’s pitch black. The crowd goes wild, screaming for the band to come out. Ominous music starts to play over the speakers and a short video plays on the screens on the sides of the stage. You can tell that the band enjoyed building suspense and it certainly works.

Suddenly, you see a dark silhouette emerge from stage left and appear right in front of your gaze. He’s holding a guitar, stepping up to the front of the stage where you assume his pedals are, and strikes a loud chord, bringing everyone’s attention to him. The lights turn up, with a sole spotlight on him, as he starts to play a dark, hypnotizing melody that almost takes the air out of your lungs. You turn your focus to the drummer and keyboardist entering the stage now, adding to the mix and making the sound grow even larger and darker than before.

The crowd then screams as the singer walks out with an enormous smile on his face. You can immediately tell what fans would love about him, he exudes brightness and kindness from the second you look at him. He begins vocalizing and you’re taken aback by his singing abilities, his voice is truly amazing.

The first verse begins and you decide to turn your attention back to the guitarist. You study the way he moves on stage; how he walks upstage then downstage with this confident strut that you can’t help but feel mesmerized by. You notice a theme of blue in their outfits but are drawn specifically to the design on the guitarist’s suit, covered in stars and astrological symbols of the Taurus, paired with dark boots. It’s honestly beautiful.

As you’re admiring what he’s wearing, you take a moment to truly look at him. He has long brown hair with a slight wave to it, falling an inch or two below his collarbones. His eyebrows are dark and quite thick, knit tightly as he’s concentrating on what he’s playing. His eyes are equally as dark, though it's hard to tell their exact hue from this many feet away.

You catch yourself staring for too long and want to make the effort to shift your eyes elsewhere and as you do, his eyes meet yours. It’s a concert, of course the band is going to make eye contact with their fans, it’s a small pit. But he seems to hold his gaze for several seconds to the point where you think he might actually be looking at you specifically. You give him a shy smile, which he returns, and then moves on with the song.

The rest of the song continues and you think you’re really starting to like Greta Van Fleet, the music is truly fantastic. The singer’s voice is beautiful and like nothing you’ve ever heard before. Suddenly he stops and the guitarist approaches the end of the stage, seemingly for his guitar solo. It’s nothing short of amazing, the way that he plays the guitar is so captivating, it’s like your eyes can’t look away.

You hear the crowd go insane for it, screaming things like “Yeah Jake!” “Do it, Jakey!” “Fuck it up!!” and you’re sure that he’s eating it all up. Jake, you think to yourself. Interesting. It becomes clear that the girls go crazy for him and you know that must give him some sort of complex. He seems so confident and you can’t blame him, with all the praise that he’s receiving- praise that is very well-deserved.

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All of the following songs go the same exact way. You can’t seem to take your eyes off of Jake. You’ve also deeply fallen in love with their music and the love that it emits. You feel very glad about your decision to go to the concert tonight- you can feel that this has changed the course of your life in some way. Throughout the show, you notice that sometimes Jake would catch you watching him, which you didn’t mind. Surely he was used to being watched on stage like that, in amazement and admiration. You truly do admire him and his talent, it’s something very special. All of his riffs are so satisfying to hear and the chords blend so perfectly.

Once the encore ends, the band goes to leave the stage. You watch Jake as he walks toward the end of the stage, which you assume is to hand out his guitar picks before leaving for the night. Much to your surprise, he looks right at you as he leans over and tosses it to you. Your cheeks turn a shade of pink and you look up at him, smiling and thanking him. What a night to remember. You think that this would be it, but you are dead wrong.

You and Sophie turn to exit the pit, which takes some time considering how close you are to the front. You’re eventually able to exit the theatre and wait on the sidewalk for a game plan. “So… you wanna go to the Tavern?” Sophie asks. The Tavern is your go-to bar in Beverly Hills; it has a good atmosphere, great cocktails, and isn’t too far from campus. You and Sophie go there at least once every weekend, they all know your names there. You glare at her with a concerned look, “Soph, I have such a big exam tomorrow, are you serious?” She rolls her eyes, “Come on! Live a little! You’re telling me you don’t wanna at least get a little drunk to take your mind off of it? We just saw an amazing show, let’s go celebrate!”

Sophie always knew how to convince you to do anything, no matter what it was. She knew your weaknesses every time. You groan, “Ugh, fine. But if you have to wake my ass up tomorrow at 2 pm for my exam because I’m too hungover, you'll have no one to blame but yourself.” She smiles wide and says “I know, I know. I’ve already called the Uber to take us there now.” Cheeky girl, she knew she’d convince you.

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It's already midnight by the time you arrive at the Tavern. The last call is always at 1 am so you know that you won't be there too long. You both walk in and find your favorite booth in the back, placing your jackets down before going up to the bar to order your drinks. Sophie orders you both a shot of tequila, then gets herself a margarita. You order a bourbon punch and turn back to take a seat in your booth. You both take your shots when you sit down, then you debrief tonight’s events.

“So, what did you think of the band? Did you like them?” Sophie asks.

“Yeah, it was amazing actually. I don’t know how I hadn’t found them before now. The music that they make is extraordinary,” you reply with a smile. You do have some questions, though. “So what’s their deal? The lore?”

“Oh, well they’re from Michigan. They’re actually brothers, besides the drummer- though they all grew up together. Josh, the singer, and Jake, the guitarist, are twins.” You nod your head. I did think they looked alike, you think to yourself. “Sam is their younger brother, and Danny is his best friend. They’ve been making music for a while but they blew up a lot in like 2019 and then this new album skyrocketed their fame.”

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me. This album is absolutely breathtaking. From what I heard tonight, their music is so mind-blowing. It really took my breath away,” you explain.

“I knew you'd love it. I’m so glad that you’re into them now. Especially Jake, it seemed,” she smirked.

You reach over to smack her on the arm and exclaim, “Sophie! That’s crazy! I don’t know where you got that idea! I was not into him.” The blush that’s made its way to your face tells a different story, however.

“You so were! You couldn’t take your eyes off of him that entire show, I watched you. I think he might’ve been looking at you too, you know,” she jests. Just the thought that Jake might have been actually interested in you made your stomach turn. You shake your head.

“No, Soph. There’s no way. Sure, we might have locked eyes once or twice, but there were thousands of people there. I’m sure he looks at all of his fans like that…” you trail off, wanting to shut this conversation down as soon as possible to save yourself from any further embarrassment. You pick up your glass, which is half empty, then chug the whole thing. “Oh, look at that, my drink is gone. I’m gonna go get another, I’ll be back.” You smirk at her, successfully avoiding the conversation for now, and then get up from your seat to walk back to the bar.

As you approach the bar, there’s a group of men leaning against it, ordering drinks. You go to stand on the right of them to wait your turn and the man next to you senses your presence and turns to look at you. As he turns in your direction, you see the long chestnut hair and are met with dark chocolate eyes. You’re immediately hit with the realization: Oh my god. It’s Jake.

He looks at you and offers a soft smile as a greeting. “Hi…” you manage to let out, looking up at him. “Hey,” he replies. You glance behind him and see the rest of the band. Oh my GOD. Greta Van Fleet is at my bar. You just stand there leaning against the bar for a moment looking at him, unsure of what to say next. You find yourself looking him up and down, analyzing what he’s wearing off the stage.

He has on a different pair of boots now, a light brown color. He's wearing some tattered blue jeans and a navy blue, long-sleeved button-up shirt, of which the top four buttons are undone, leaving his upper chest partially exposed. The lighting in the Tavern reflects off of it in such a mesmerizing way. You realize that you’ve been staring for far too long and go to say something, but luckily he beats you to it.

“Were you at our show tonight? I think I remember your face…” Jake says, looking into your eyes as though he’s piercing right into your soul, studying you. You feel stuck, though you’re not sure why. Up until today, you weren’t a fan of theirs and you wouldn’t have thought anything about this interaction at all whatsoever. So why were you so flustered? You finally work up the courage to answer.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was there. It was… spectacular,” you say with a shy smile, finally meeting his gaze. He smiles back at you when your attention is suddenly pulled away by the sound of a loud voice coming from behind him.

“You really liked it? I’m so glad. I get so in my head sometimes, y’know, I was so nervous. So it’s lovely to hear that I didn’t totally crash and burn.” The man that you now understand to be Jake’s curly-headed twin reaches over the bar past Jake and extends his hand out to you. “I’m Josh, by the way,” he adds with a wide smile. You reach your hand out to shake his, in total shock that this is actually happening.

“Hi, Josh. I’m Y/N, which I was just about to tell your brother here…” you joke, making him realize that he’d accidentally interrupted something. He makes an “oh that’s awkward” kind of face and pulls at his collar, causing you to laugh. Jake watches as you interact with his twin with a look on his face that you can’t quite place. Like he’s trying to figure you out.

“Sorry about him, Y/N, sometimes he just speaks first and then thinks after,” you hear from further down the bar. You look up to see that voice coming from Sam next to him, who gets a shove from his older brother and erupts into contagious laughter. You watch Danny shake his head, chuckling, and you laugh along with them. Jake looks over at you, smiling. You smile back at him and he speaks up, drawing your attention back to him and him alone.

“What are you drinking, Y/N?” he asks. “Oh, um, a bourbon punch,” you answer. “Another bourbon punch for this lovely lady here, please,” he says to the bartender, “You can put it on my tab.” You look at him in shock and try to protest but he sees it coming, saying “No, I insist. As a thank you, for your support and for making my brother happy for a moment there with your compliment- he’s easy to please.”

He leans one arm onto the counter and smirks at you as the bartender places your drink down in front of you. “Cheers, sweetheart,” Jake says, raising his glass to yours. You glance down at the glass to see what he’s drinking, which seems to be whisky, neat. It suits him. You smile at him and say “Cheers” and take a sip of your fresh drink. His eyes are looking into yours so intently that it almost feels like they’re burning into you. Something about him is so intriguing yet slightly intimidating that you want to learn more.

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“Are you here alone?” he asks. “Oh, no, I’m here with a friend. She’s back there at our table.” Jake looks behind you to see Sophie, who has been intently watching this entire interaction unfold. He smiles and gives her a little wave to come over, so she stands up and comes up to the bar. “Would you both like to join us for a round? We have a larger booth upstairs with a few of our friends.” His eyes look down at you for an answer, waiting and hoping for a yes. Before you can answer, Sophie chimes in to answer for you, “We’d love to!” she says, elbowing your side to encourage you to agree and you nod along. “Yeah, sure, we can stay for a bit longer,” you reply, looking up at Jake, who seems satisfied with that answer.

The rest of the guys get their drinks and you follow them up the winding staircase to the large booth that they reserved. When you arrive at the table, you see a few other people waiting there whom you assume to be part of their management, security, and some personal friends. Danny and Sam slide in first to the left to join their friends and Josh goes for an open spot on the right side. Jake extends his hand out, offering for you to take a seat between them, and then slides in on the left next to you. Sophie opts to sit next to Sam on the end, across from you.

You both introduce yourselves to the rest of the group. Their friends seem unsurprised that they managed to make friends in the short time they’ve been in the bar. From the few minutes you’ve spent with them, you can tell that their social and charismatic tendencies would likely often lead to new friendships everywhere they go. It’s something you’re starting to admire about them.

As you’re getting to know the group, it’s impossible not to notice Jake’s eyes on you. He’s studying you as you speak, watching the way your lips move and admiring you. It’s difficult to ignore, though you try your best to. He starts speaking and you turn your head to look at him, taking the time to look him over as well. You look at his eyes, mostly, a mesmerizing dark chocolate color that turns into amber when the light touches them. His nose is straight and pointed, his lips look soft and full.

He catches you staring at him, just for a moment, and uses the opportunity to place his right hand on your knee, exposed by the large rips in your jeans, rubbing small circles on top of it. It makes you jump a little at first touch, startled by his actions. You couldn’t believe this was real life. You look up at him and you both lock eyes. It falls silent for a moment and Josh starts a conversation with Daniel across the table, everyone else engaging and chiming in. Jake takes this opportunity to lean into your ear a bit to talk to you on his own, which he’s been dying to do.

“I know you were watching me earlier, at the show…” he whispers in your ear, loud enough only for you to hear. Your heart nearly stops, but he continues. “It’s okay, you know, I don’t mind it. If anything, I kind of liked it,” he says, his breath feeling hot on your skin. “Maybe I was,” you answer shyly, turning your face toward him a bit so that he can hear you more clearly. Your eyes meet and you watch as his eyes quickly dart to your lips, then back up to look at you once more.

“I was watching you too,” he says, sliding his hand a bit higher above your knee, resting on your inner thigh, slightly gripping it. “Watching you study me… and how my fingers worshipped the strings…” he continues, leaning closer to your ear, his lips grazing lightly over it. Shivers run down your back and continue down toward your core, causing you to silently yearn for more. You inhale deeply, then ask “And what did you think about that, Jake?” saying his name in a honeyed tone, causing him to squeeze your thigh and look deep into your eyes, piercing through them. You knew exactly what he was thinking, but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to be absolutely sure that what you thought was about to happen was actually happening.

“Do you wanna go outside for a smoke, Y/N?” Jake asks, slightly loud enough so that the others can hear. Sophie looks at you, smirking; she clearly can tell exactly what’s going on. She nods at you, encouraging you to go. “Uh, yeah Jake, sure,” you mutter, a bit awkwardly. You weren’t expecting him to try and get you alone, you had felt all this time that he was just playing with you. It’s clear now, though, that this was not a game.

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He stands up from the booth and offers his hand to help you up as well. Despite the dark aura that surrounds him, he still appears to be quite the gentleman. You stand up from the booth, shoot Sophie a nervous look, and then turn around to head back down the stairs. Jake follows closely behind you.

You get to the bottom of the stairs and head to the back of the Tavern to go out the back door, to the smoking area. It’s an outdoor patio behind the bar, illuminated with low-lit string lights and decorated with some picnic tables with a few ashtrays. You exit through the door and turn around to face him as the door closes silently behind him. His eyes are darker now, piercing into you as he approaches you. You back up slowly until the backs of your legs hit one of the tables and then sit on the edge of it while Jake takes out a pack of Marlboro Reds and a black lighter from his back pocket.

He pulls a cigarette out of the pack, places it between his lips, and then brings the lighter up to light it. He takes a long drag out of it and blows it to the side, avoiding blowing any smoke in your face, then steps closer to you until he’s standing between your legs, only inches away from you. He puts the cigarette down to sit on the ashtray for a moment and he finally speaks.

“Y/N/ I can’t seem to stop thinking about you. You’ve captivated me from the second the lights turned up on that stage tonight. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you…” he says, bringing his hand up to your cheek and running his thumb along your cheek. He’s watching your eyes, how they look up at him with anticipation, waiting for him. He can feel the power that he has over you.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either… Seeing you for the first time on stage tonight has caused you to completely take over my thoughts ever since. No matter how hard I tried to watch the others, my eyes kept getting drawn right back to you. It was like I couldn’t control it,” you say, glancing down at his lips and then back to his eyes longingly. “I don’t feel like I can control myself around you, baby… I’m being tempted to throw out all of my rules for you,” Jake says in a low whisper, bringing his face closer to yours.

Your eyes look up at his, pleading. He can’t hold himself back anymore, finally closing the gap between you. He kisses you so deeply that it takes the air out of your lungs. He leans into you and his hand that was once on your cheek grasps the back of your neck tightly, causing you to let out a quiet whimper. Just the sound of it lights a fire within him, he takes his other hand to hold your hip in place and groans into your mouth. You place your hands around his neck and pull him closer to you, your bodies now flush together.

Jake pulls away, his face still only a few inches from yours, and tries to catch his breath. His left hand squeezes your hip as the other leaves your neck in order to reach behind you to grab his cigarette, still lit. He takes a drag from it blowing it to the side, but keeps his eyes locked on yours and watches as you stare at his lips when he blows the smoke out. He takes note of your interest in the way he’s blowing the smoke and says, “Open your mouth.”

You immediately obey, knowing you’d do anything he asks you to, and open your mouth. He takes another drag of the cigarette and kisses you again, blowing the smoke into your mouth and you breathe it in as you lean into the kiss. This elicits another moan from him, clearly turned on by the act. He leans into you harder and bucks his hips into you slightly, trying to release some tension. You moan quietly into his mouth at the sensation, your desire starting to pulsate between your legs.

His lips leave your mouth and place kisses along your jaw then down your neck, causing you to let out a small sigh. “You don’t even know what you do to me, sweetheart,” Jake mutters against your skin. He brings his mouth back to yours and kisses you once more, but you pull yourself away.

“Jake… I want this. I want you, but… not now.” He looks disappointed by your words but backs away slightly, sliding both of his hands down to your waist. “I’m sorry, I just- I have this big exam tomorrow and I’ve already stayed out so much later than I ever even intended to. I have to go home.”

He nods his head in understanding, then it seems like a lightbulb lights up in his head. He smiles and says, “Come to the show tomorrow night, then. Please… I need to see you again. I want to see you front and center when I play.” You’re taken aback completely at his kind offer. You know you need to see him again too, and you’d like nothing more than to watch them perform again. You nod your head, “Oh, Jake. I would love to go. That’s so sweet,” you say, smiling bashfully. Jake’s face lights up at your answer, “It’s gonna be a great show, baby. You won’t regret it. I’ll have Jenn email you the tickets as soon as we get back to our hotel, one for Sophie too.” You thank him and place a soft peck on his cheek, causing a hue of pink to form there. You both go back inside and return to your friends upstairs.

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“Soph, you ready to go home?” you ask her. “I really gotta get up for this midterm tomorrow,” you explain to the others, who all nod and wish you luck. Sophie nods and says goodnight to everyone. Jake offers to walk you both out to the bus stop to wait for the bus to take you back to your apartment. Sophie goes to sit on the bench as you wait a bit behind with Jake.

He places a soft goodnight kiss on your lips and you hum into it and smile as he brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “Here, let me see your phone,” he says, taking it and typing in his phone number, putting his contact name as “Sir Jacob ⚔️”, which makes you giggle. “Text me when you make it home safe, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says with a smirk. “See you tomorrow, Jake,” you reply as he turns back to the front door of the Tavern. He turns back around and gives you a soft smile, and you wave goodbye before he goes back inside.

You turn around and sit down on the bench next to Sophie, who finally wants to know all of the details. The bus arrives and you fill her in on everything on the ride home, causing her to laugh and scream in excitement, much to the dismay of the other exhausted people who are on the city bus at one o’clock in the morning. You tell her that he’s sending you tickets for both of you to go to the next show tomorrow night and that he’s asking security to put you in the front row, which she is so psyched about.

You both finally arrive home and you take your makeup off, put some comfier clothes on, and collapse into bed. What a night, you think to yourself. It was nothing like you ever could have imagined. You turn over and plug your phone in, then open up the messages app and type in “Sir Jacob ⚔️”.

You: home safe <3

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Good. Sweet dreams, beautiful.

You: goodnight, jake

You place your phone down on your bedside table and flop down on your back, letting out a long sigh. You think about your exam tomorrow and the excitement that will come thereafter. You wonder where tomorrow night will lead you as you close your eyes and try to fall asleep. God, what have I gotten myself into?

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this story will be continued... comment to be added to the taglist! thank you so much for reading!

part two

#greta van fleet #jakegvf #jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fic #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x you #gvf #starcatcher #Spotify

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ataraxixx · 7 months

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post/crystallized au stuff and then a silly comic about aftonsparv .... i should do full drawings again soon but ive been busy with a lot of schoolwork and most of my serious drawing energy goes into comms so you guys get le silly doodles. ilove citrus

#ajax art #citrusshipping #ninjago #yea #post crystallized au

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cripple-punk-dad · 5 months

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I find it exceptionally frustrating that people don't realize just how many barriers there are in front of trans people and our access to college/university/higher education. I'm mainly talking about the United States here, but I know other countries are just as bad or worse.

There's the obvious bias present in the application process, but there's also things like systemically unequal access to well-paying jobs because of unchecked discrimination in the hiring/onboarding process (you getting outed because you have to show an ID that doesn't have the correct gender marker) which prevents us from getting enough money to pay for tuition without going into debt.

There's bias present in housing availability. Not just because of a lack of income, but because again you will, more likely than not, have to out yourself for identification. I didn't move out of my parents house until halfway through my first semester. That meant I was commuting an hour and a half on public transportation every single day, 6 days a week just to go to class.

There's the lack of access to trans-specific healthcare which negatively impacts mental and physical health, which seriously impacts our ability to focus on schoolwork. I know that here in Utah, there are two or three gender clinics IN THE ENTIRE STATE. It can take forever just to get an appointment, and then most insurances don't cover treatment which means you're paying out of pocket. HRT and surgery are often prohibitively expensive. That obviously goes hand-in-hand with able-ism, because god forbid you be trans AND disabled. Or trans and any other marginalized identity.

Along with that, there's the stress that comes from attending courses in an increasingly transphobic country that has a history of violent, life-threatening attacks on visibly trans people and college campus' in general. And, of course, there's the constant misgendering and micro-aggressions that come from fellow students and faculty, which also add to the seriously declining mental state of the average trans college student.

I'm stealth in most of my circles, meaning that as far as most people know, I'm a cis guy. But the amount of mental and physical energy that I have to exert in order to maintain that stealth status is exhausting, even without acknowledging that I am physically disabled. When half of your energy is going into survival, you can't exactly do well on your finals, can you?

Anyways, this scholarship is for trans people attending college. I encourage y'all to fill it out if you need the money.

#TransgenderFirst #trans community #trans people

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aiilurociide · 2 months

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I'm stoked to continue seeing the development of your story! Your art, world-building, story-telling, etc, have come so far since I first started following you years ago. At the same time, I'm over here sobbing cause the @newdawnoldfaces account has disappeared and I can't look at the character headshots anymore XD.

🥺 Oh I’ll cry-

Gosh, thank you so much, sincerely. To have your continued support, love, and enthusiasm truly goes such a long way for keeping me driven, and I can never thank y’all enough for that — especially those of you who have stuck around with the story since near the beginning <3

The story itself is finished! I have a very clear idea of what the story is meant to portray, several important details and clever foreshadowings I’m especially excited to enact, and where the plot will reach out. I just have to iron out some of the specifics and do a little bit of restructuring here and there, with some minor world building tweaks, before I’m ready to start sharing… And brand new headshots with full character profiles are one of the biggest things on the list ;) So don’t mourn the old ones too deeply!!

Admittedly, the main reason it’s taken so long for me to feel comfortable enough actually unveiling things is because my housing situation is very unstable at the moment; it wholly depends on my grades in college, and seeing as I’m on academic probation at the moment, it’s been… Stressful, to say the very least. So most of my energy has been poured into my schoolwork and trying to stay afloat there, or trying to save up money via commissions just in case I do end up homeless. I’ve got vital medications I need that have to be paid for, after all…

So unfortunately, Ailurocide isn’t my primary focus at the moment, as much as I wish it were. It probably won’t be given my full attention and love for some time, as disappointing as that is not only for all of you, but for myself as well.

But rest assured that it will come out someday in full! And that I am so excited to begin sharing it with you, and watching everyone unveil the mystery, mythos, and magic that Ailurocide has to offer <3 And know that I appreciate everyone’s patience, kindness, support and encouragement so so deeply — and that messages like these truly make my day, every time.

#spotty speaks #ailurocide #ailurocide: tumblr stuffs #thecatspirits #ask

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dilucsfav · 2 years

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CEO itto hcs and scenarios!!

HI LOVESSNSS<333 im super sorry for not really being active :( ive been super busy with schoolwork and midterms are soon sobbing n shitting fr LNMFOAPDKJSKJL- i have something a lil different to write about today!! what if... itto headcanons. BUT,,, theres a twist. CEO itto. SCREAMING AT JUST THE THOUGHT OF IT TBH.

this isnt a request or anything but i thought about it all day so why not write about it? i need to tame my sexual fantasies over this big boobed man somehow so hopefully you guys wont complain,,, PLEASE DONT PUNCH ME I PROMISE I'LL DO THE REST OF THE REQUESTS. have a great day !! dont forget to drink a big glass of water and play some good music and have a snack <33.

warning(s): not really fluff,, mainly just how i think he'd be as a ceo!!,,,, also nsfw. yw.

homeboy would be the funniest boss, and guy, you'd ever have. he'd be so clueless with stuff going on in the company n shit, dont even know how hes a ceo. bro probably hacked life or something

literally has a secret handshake with each of his workers (goes for his friends, partner, etc too!!)

^^ high key the handshakes could be super long and he'd remember EVERY DAMN ONE. and which person he made the handshake with

i couldnt see him drinking coffee in the morning... he probably starts his day off with a medium rare steak for breakfast and a red bull. maybe two red bulls if he stayed up too late on a gaming match.

even if you didnt work at the company, he probably enjoys for you to come in the office with him sometimes and watch him work. a lot of the times when you do, its quiet because he has a lot of things to do. but sometimes, he'll rant to you about his work throughout the day and let you do little tasks for him!

^^^ just imagine you sitting next to him at his desk. his back pressed against the chair and his eyes glued to his paperwork/project, his eyebrows tinted together.

with a huge role in the company comes lots of stress. as long as you hold him tighter when you two sleep together, rub his hair and allow him to rest peacefully, he's happy :)

he'd try sticking to his daily routine. but hes just so so disorganized its difficult :((.

^^^ omg but on good days he'd wake up early, eat a big breakfast, workout, shower, go to work, come home, eat dinner with you, do more work (or do onikabuto fights with you), and then go to sleep with you!! very busy man :(((

would walk around the place with a button or two too undone. come on now im right.

would be such a sweetheart though if you were super stressed about work and weren't having a good day!! he would calmly talk to you and allow you to take day(s) off to calm down and detress. your health matters to him!

nsfw:

hes very stressed ykwim and he'd like a way to relieve that... so instead of doing onikabuto fights, he does you

office sex?? yeah that wouldnt really happen that often BECAUSE ITTO IS SO FUCKING VOCAL. but when it does?? put your big boy panties on bc this man would keep you on his desk (or lap) and it would be so sososooso so so so so so SOOO....

yeah.

hes fast. dont try to argue with me and say he doesnt go fast

BIG DICK ENERGY. absolutely massive

^^ fifteen meter women defeater tbh

oh but he'd talk so so dirty to you it's making me act up rn

he whines. and grunts.

you already know that daddy has big boy bucks. he'd fuck you so sweetly in his big ass rich man home.

fucking on his pool table? yeah. on the balcony? already did before. in the kitchen, living room floor, the bathroom shower floor and counter, the backseat of his fancy car, in the backyard (and many more places)? done.

when he comes home late he tries to sneak into bed, as to not wake you, but you're awake already sometimes because you've been waiting for him for oh so long

^^ how could he resist your request when he wants you too??

^^ to add more onto that, imagine him sliding off his belt while staring at you omg-

-and then tying you up with your ass in the air as youre just begging for him

"you want it, too? oh, (Y/N), please let me fuck you."

seeing stars tbh

kinda a whiny dom,, but in a submissive way? like extremely dom but? sometimes in a submissive way? PLEASEEE

kinda nsfw hc, not really, but he's a great kisser.

STOP HE LOVES THIGHS. SKINNY THIGHS, THICK THIGHS, AVERAGE THIGHS, ANY THIGHS HE JUST LOVES.

and ass. he loves asses.

(maybe thats why his favorite position is doggystyle)

lots of sex with him is intimate, some of it is eager, sometimes its super quick, it really just depends!

if you love itto and you also love demon slayer, you love rengoku. sorry i dont make the rules here.

#itto headcanons #itto x reader #itto smut #arataki itto #genshin itto #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin fluff #genshin fanfic #geo daddy

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idontplaytrack · 1 month

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MY CHARMED ONE [9]

Capri Donahue x Harper Sibling!fem reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, hospital mentions, coarse language

In which Capri goes to PT for her injury. And then she tries to do schoolwork while on meds. Reader goes a little crazy having to deal with her antics while Capri makes a revelation.

“Oh, hi, baby!” Capri didn’t know you were going to be at her house so she was thrilled to see you. Thrilled.

“Is she-”

“Oh, yeah.” Her Mom nodded knowingly.

“Guess schoolwork will have to wait.” You held back a laugh.

“Okay, will you be good and not give y/n a hard time having to deal with your high ass? I’ve got to go back to work.” Her Mom sat her down on the couch to be with you.

“Okay, fine.” She pouted, “Bye-bye.”

“Bye, Capri.” Her Mom smiled, “If anything happens- call me. Also, if you need anything from the store, let me know so I can pick them up on my way home tonight.”

“Okayyyy.” Capri said back.

“Bye, y/n.”

“Bye, Trina.” You waved to her Mom. Yeah, she kinda had you start calling her by her first name recently, thinking that ‘Mrs. Donahue’ was way too formal.

“At least she doesn’t sing Chicago.” Capri quips absentmindedly.

“What?” You mumbled.

“It’s a joke.” She giggles, “Trina Vega?”

“Oh.” You chuckled when you finally got her joke.

“Yeah.” She nodded, “What time- what time did you get here?”

“I dunno. An hour ago?”

“Oh, that’s so long.” Capri glares at you. Well, her eyes were widened, so there’s that. “No, babe. It was okay. Did you want something to eat? It’s just about lunchtime.”

“Can we get burgers?”

“Uh, sure. I’m sure we can find someplace that delivers.”

“Can you make ‘em?” She requested.

“Me?” You asked her, bewildered.

“Yeah, you. You can cook. We have everything you need.” She nodded excitedly.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make us burgers for lunch.” You gave in, throwing your hands up in mock defeat. You got up to go to the kitchen. And told her to stay put, but she hobbles over there to join you anyway.

“Capri, I told you-”

“I’m boreeeeed.” She complains. You laugh, “Okay, just- sit down. Please. You can’t put weight on that leg yet.”

“Okay, fine. I’m sitting.” She huffs, pouting, sitting herself down at the dining table.

“Well? Talk to me, then. Since you’re bored?” You suggested, getting a pack of ground beef out from her fridge to start preparing the meal.

Capri then proceeded to talk to you about anything and everything that came to her mind. You loved this side of her that didn’t show unless she was alone with you. That was for you only.

“You look so hot.” She said out of the blue.

You scoffed, brushing her comment of while constructing the burgers, “Do you want cheese on yours?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, “Maybe some lettuce. Just lettuce, though.”

“Alright.” You shrugged, got that done and handed her the plate.

————

“You haven’t done any schoolwork for the past three days? Capri, god. We’re graduating this year- that’s not gonna help.” You put down your half-eaten burger.

“I was caught up until three days ago. I got pissed off over nothing because I started my period. But hey, I feel better now so I’ll get back to it tomorrow.”

“Today.” You said.

“Alright, fine.” Capri threw her hands up in mock defeat. She then grabbed her can of soda and tried to open it with one hand. Obviously, she couldn’t but she still didn’t want to ask you for help.

“Need some help?” You ask.

She sulks, “Yeah. God, I hate this.”

“You’re okay- I got you.” You smiled, handing her the can back then you resumed eating your burger, “It’s been what, 9 days? Take it easy, babe. Enjoy having other people help you do stuff.”

Capri snorts, taking a sip of her beverage, “I think you’re enjoying me being high on pain meds too much.”

“Hey, I have not said that.” You gasped, “Every time I come over, you’re the one giving me a surprise with this whole golden retriever energy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She guffaws, “I really- I really act that different? Damn.”

“You can’t tell, but yeah.” You told her, pushing your now empty plate aside.

“Eh, whatever.” She shrugs, “This is great. You may be an even better cook than my Mom, baby.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” You chuckled, “Thanks, babe.”

“So I’ve been told.” She beamed brightly, taking the last bite of her food.

“Is it?” You teased.

“Yeah, by you.” She glares at you, eyebrows raised for a second. You could not take her seriously like that. Anyway, after you washed the dishes, you decided to help Capri with her schoolwork. The result? You found out the limit of your patience. And it was not very high. “Capri, come on. You know this. You tutored me on this when I was out of school that week.”

“I can’t.” She answers in a singsongy tone, “I tried. I’m still fucking high right now, baby.” Capri rests her chin on folded arms, doodling on the paper with a pencil. She had a point. Maybe schoolwork wasn’t a priority right now since she couldn’t focus at all. It’s not like she was severely behind on the work.

“Are you okay?” You scooted closer to her, shutting the school books and stacking them together.

“I’m high.” She stated, still doodling. “I can’t do anything while I’m high, because I don’t remember a single thing I learnt in school.”

Next thing you knew, she was on the verge of tears. These damn pills and their side effects.

“Capri. Everything’s okay, don’t worry.” You rubbed her arm comfortingly.

“I know, I just feel like shit because of the meds sometimes- like why do they do that?” Capri huffs, “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah, honey - anything.”

“Sometimes…I feel like I’m not good enough for you?” She reveals, “Like- I dunno, I was mean for so long, almost died and expected people to help me just ‘cause? How I even got you as my girlfriend keeps me awake at night sometimes because I really just…got lucky. You’re so nice, so smart. And even when I was a bitch to Darby.”

“Capri, I don’t care about the past. You’ve changed a lot in such a short period of time - for the better and I’m so proud of you for that. The Capri I got to know has been sweet all along. You were just a kid being a little shit sometimes- though as a kid myself some years ago, that hurt. You gave my box of Barbies terrible haircuts, so what? But I don’t play with them anymore, that doesn’t bother me anymore. You made up with Darby, things are okay again. Because life moves fast and things change. I’ve got other things to focus on. We all do. And right now, things might suck a bit because you’re injured, and you’ve got every right to be upset. But move forward from that. Life’s too short, baby.”

Capri looks at you with glossy eyes, her chin still rested on her folded arms. She pushes the piece of paper towards you. There was a bunch of hearts on it.

You smiled, “You see? This. This is what I love- the little things you do for me. Remembering what I love to order at different places, my favourite snacks, candies, writing me little notes on the mirror when I shower, you watching my favourite shows with me. The daily mundane things. You know me, Capri- so well and we haven’t even been together that long. And I am just so in love with you, Capri. You’re perfect the way you are and perfect for me. I don’t care how many bad days you have, I’ll be right there with you no matter what.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Your smile mirrors hers.

“Will you cuddle with me?” She asks quietly. You agreed in a heartbeat, leading her over to the couch. You helped her sit down carefully before you sat down yourself. Wrapping your arms around her, she lays her head on your chest, cautiously manoeuvring her legs to be fully on the couch. Absentmindedly, you were tracing random shapes on her arm with your fingers as you simply enjoyed her company.

“I think Charmed’s on now, you wanna watch?” Capri broke the silence quickly. You looked down at her and grinned, “You know that?”

She puckers up her lips for a kiss which you gladly gave her, “I remember.”

#auli’i cravalho #capri donahue #darby harper #darby and the dead #reader insert #female reader #x reader #alternative universe #wlw fanfic #wlw fluff #wlw angst #romance #injury #fanfiction

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web-spur · 4 months

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Update, as promised!

It was a simple plan: sneak in through the ventilation at night, find the room that reads J-E on the 10th floor, and figure out what Oscorp is doing with the strange substance from the meteor crash. (Lookin' back on it, I should've done more pre-plannin')

After sneakin' into room J-E, I began to look around. Lo and behold, some poor scientist forgot to put up a cylindrical container(of said substance). I also found some research papers that I'm yet to read through, I plan on doin' that in the mornin'. I bumped into a desk when I wasn't payin' attention and it teetered off. I tried to catch it with a web, but it shattered on the ground(incredible casing design, Oscorp /s). A guy peeked 'round the corner and called for security. I'd rather not get into a fight on a stealth mission, so I fled back into the vents.

I swung home, through the cold(ehh, if anybody has any tips for suits made for winter weather, I'm all ears!), and got ready for bed. That was enough adventure for me. I put my suit up, thought I saw somethin' move on it but wasn't too sure. I woke up this mornin' and pulled up my laptop while I ate breakfast, did my mornin' routine, schoolwork, then got prepared for an afternoon patrol. My suit had CHANGED???? It's black and white with blue accents now, I had no clue what happened until I looked at what my Mom was watchin' on TV. Well, I can add thievery to my list of crimes. Oscorp reported the substance stolen and, of course, I'm blamed for it. Whatever it is, it's bonded itself to my suit and changed my webbing to black too. I felt stronger when I took it for a spin, lots of energy to help 'round NYC. I can't return it to Oscorp and I feel a lot better usin' it. Things are lookin' up from here!

TL;DR: Attempt to break into Oscorp goes sideways, I have a new suit.

#spidersona #webspur #oc: web-spur #oc askblog #marvel oc #oc: charge #symbiote storyline

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fluffydice · 1 year

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Fun fact Kubouysu has ADHD he told me himself.

Anyways, Kuboyasu with ADHD headcanons because I’m in a mood about my own ADHD

- Stims sometimes with a swear because I do that and it’s oddly fitting and also terrible.

- He used to close and open the top of his spray cans all the time.

- Obviously, in his new life, the first is no longer appropriate for everyday interactions, and the second isn’t really an option anymore. For a while he finds himself breaking pencils, pens, etc, until he figures out a replacement for that stim, but the first is harder to figure out.

- His ADHD gets ‘worse’ when he finally starts trying in school. In actuality, school isn’t built for kids with disabilities and it’s agony for Kuboyasu to sit through school all day.

- He’s very emotional and has trouble regulating these emotions. He was trained when he was young to transfer sadness into anger, but now that it’s not okay for him to do that anymore he finds himself expressing his sadness and tearing up more often. This often just pisses him off, bringing it back to square one.

- He’s frustrated with school because he can’t seem to just sit still and pay attention. He’s frustrated with himself because he seems like such a big crybaby now. He also just…misses his old friends. He misses his old life, because there are so many new sensations in this one he isn’t used to.

- Kuboyasu is used to loud noises. What drives him crazy now is the sound of pencils writing and papers rustling.

- As he gets more stressed out over time, he gets more sensitive to stimulus, and his emotions are getting harder and harder to regulate. One day it’s just too much, and Matsuzaki finds him skipping school behind the building, teary-eyed with bloody knuckles from punching the wall to try and calm down.

- It gets better from there. Kuboyasu stays after school with Matsuzaki in his office to catch up on schoolwork and to begin cooling down from the stress of the day. Kuboyasu gets most of his work done during this time because he knows very little will get done without someone keeping him focused.

- Kuboyasu also goes there whenever he begins to get overstimulated.

- Sometimes, to help him burn energy, Matsuzaki will give him drills to do. Kuboyasu greatly enjoys these. He also gives him little jobs to do, like helping him carry things to other classrooms or setting up for gym. The simple tasks help Kuboyasu reset.

I could go on more, but if I do it’ll be in a reblog :)

#adhd headcanon #kuboyasu aren #kuboyasu aren my beloved #saiki k #fluffy cooks a headcanon

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criesinmultifandommess · 8 months

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A Dragon's Greatest Treasure

sorry for disappearing! i got caught up in schoolwork and yeah :D i started writing this quite a while ago, maybe a couple months back? idk but the second paragraph was going to be followed by an in-depth description of all the parents seeing their kids start acting up, but im too sad about the current arc CUCURUCHO GIVE THE KIDS BACK YOU MONSTER!!!! anyway enjoy :)

There was no warning for what would happen. There was no announcement from the Federation, no appearance from the Binary Code or Cucurucho. It was just a normal day for the residents of Quesadilla Island. Until everyone’s kids started acting…strangely.

No one was prepared for dragon puberty.

In the group chat between all the parents, Cellbit messages them all to come to the adoption center, mentioning that he has information about the sudden changes to their children. A few moments later, the center is flooded with people. Everyone immediately begins crowding around Cellbit, concerned and anxious.

“Quiet, please, everyone! Silêncio, por favor.” The Brazilian begins shouting over the commotion. As the residents begin to settle, Cellbit finally begins speaking. “Okay, thank you. I know that all of our kids have started doing some weird stuff lately. Mostre a eles, Richas.”

On cue, Richarlyson jumps and hovers in mid-air for several seconds.

“Yeah! He accidentally jumped into a hole near the Copacabana, but he did not fall down right away.” Forever comments, Richarlyson nodding along.

“Really? Pomme hasn’t done that, but she has—”

Baghera is cut off when purple sparks begin appearing around Pomme, before she vanishes into thin air. Everyone but the French residents begin panicking, beginning to look around for the missing girl. She pops back into view a few feet away from where she disappeared, violet sparkles eventually fading away.

“She disappears like that.” Baghera lets out a tired sigh. “The first time it happened, we looked around for a few minutes, but she appeared right back where she disappeared.”

“When Baghera messaged us saying that she disappeared, I thought it was the Federation or the Code attacking.” Etoiles shakes his head, frowning. “I would have showed them my Code Breaker sword.”

“Oh, well, nothing that exciting has happened to Ramón. He’s just been really hyper, which isn’t like him at all. There he goes.”

Right as Fit finishes speaking, his son begins twitching and starts racing around the room with incredible speed. Eventually, everyone stops watching him once it becomes apparent he’s not going to stop for a while.

“Chayanne can apparently breathe fire now,” Phil laughs and gestures at his kid. In response, Chayanne lets out a little burst of flame, not enough to harm anyone, but it does cause those around him to jump away in surprise.

“Wait, that’s so cool! Leo, can you do that?” They shake their head, and Foolish’s shoulders drop slightly. “Oh, that’s fine. Well, Leo does this.”

Foolish pulls out a piece of gold from his backpack, but instead of just Leo, all of the kids lunge for the nugget immediately. The parents pull their respective child back, but not before the young dragons begin hissing and clawing at each other.

“Oh my gosh, Dapper, stop it! He started hissing at me too!” Bad says while wrangling with his son. Once they’re all under control, he turns to Cellbit. “So, they all do some things, but some of the kids have special quirks? What’s going on?”

“Pare, Richas! Okay. I was looking around for some kind of explanation, and when I came here, I found this book called ‘The Early Stages of a Dragon’. I will read it.” Cellbit clears his throat.

“During the early stages of a newly hatched dragon, they do not exhibit any traits of an adult dragon. However, when they reach the age of one, they begin to showcase these traits during a period called the first growth period. These traits include fire breathing, beginning to fly, small instances of dragon magic, bursts of random energy, a tendency to hoard valuables, and becoming physical through biting, scratching, and hissing. Young dragons will experience a week of showcasing these traits, before eventually regaining control and calming down.”

With that, Cellbit closes the book. “That’s it. There’s two other growth periods, but it says it won’t happen for a while, so we should be fine.”

“Does this mean all the eggs are going to start disappearing?”

“And breathing fire?”

The adults start muttering worriedly, and Cellbit raises a hand to quiet everyone again. “They may, or they may not. But we should all be safe and start carrying around water buckets.”

“And maybe don’t take out shiny things.” Bad turns to Foolish and sighs. “You’re going to have to start covering yourself up, Foolish, I’m sorry.”

“What? That’s crazy.”

Slowly, the tension in the room fades away as they all start cracking jokes. Some break off into groups, but never stray too far to keep an eye on the kids. The children play with each other, parents making sure to keep their kids’ aggression levels low and stepping in if one starts growling. It’s a peaceful kind of chaos. Life on the island may never be the same again, but at least they have each other.

Right?

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp drabble #qsmp cellbit #qsmp kids #dragon puberty #i couldnt fit tallulah in sorry tallulah enjoyers #shes sleeping idk #i have so many more fics boiling in my drafts y'all #but will they see the light of day? probably not teehee #i would say expect more but i would just be lying #i love being a writer :)

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eleanorfenyxwrites · 2 years

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Honey-Sweet and Heavy

3zun extra for Tales From Jianghu Shopping Center - some of y'all were interested in how Meng Yao / 3zun fits into this universe and now, months after I answered the ask about it (I just scrolled to check, it was mid-July holy shit) I'm answering that question with fic! And I'm definitely not procrastinating my schoolwork, nope nope nope!

[Masterpost] [AO3]

-/-

JUNE

As is unfortunately common for Meng Yao’s Wednesday nights, the first thought he has at roughly 8:47pm is hands, hands, hands in a sort of… mildly obsessive loop that only ends when he forces himself to tip his head back enough to instead see (and think) shoulders, shoulders, shoulders . It feels like he has to tip his head back as far as it can go before he finally sees the guy’s face, but unfortunately he’s handsome enough that that’s not much better than drooling over his stupid massive hands, or his even more idiotically broad shoulders.

“Hey,” Gym Guy says, friendly enough around the way he can’t seem to ever talk like he’s isn’t two seconds away from getting pissed off.

“Hey. The usual?” Two loads for the wash. Pre-soak, hot wash, hot rinse, extra rinse on cold, spin dry. One load for the dryer, 80 minutes, extra-dry. No soap needed, he brings his own. Dryer sheets, yes, he never remembers to snag them from his house on his way out.

“Yep.”

Meng Yao has the change – in quarters, of course – for his $10 bill (minus a buck) and a couple of dryer sheets ready to slide across the counter before Gym Guy even pulls out his wallet.

“4 and 5 are free if you want, and you can throw it all in dryer 1 when they’re done washing. The others aren’t running as hot as they should, you’ll probably end up with some stuff still damp otherwise.”

As usual, Gym Guy thanks him with a gruff little nod (that Meng Yao tends to ride the high of for the rest of his shift) before he turns and hauls two enormous canvas bags of laundry through the dingy laundromat like they don’t weigh anything at all. Meng Yao watches him and wonders if the guy could bench press him. He definitely looks like he could, anyway.

Meng Yao allows himself roughly four minutes to watch Gym Guy as he bends over and loads armfuls of towels and a few random odds and ends of clothing into the two industrial-sized washing machines conveniently located straight ahead from the counter behind which he’s perched. Any longer than four minutes and he knows the likelihood of him being able to look away (preferably without getting caught) decreases dramatically, so he never allows himself to look longer.

When his four minutes (and extra forty-seven seconds, he’s had a hard day okay?) are up, Meng Yao regretfully looks away from the shift of Gym Guy’s muscles through his gray t-shirt advertising his gym and goes back to the busy work he’d assigned himself for the night, expressly for the purpose of distracting him from Gym Guy. Not that he doesn’t typically end up doing way more than his job description entails, of course, but Gym Guy is distracting enough that Meng Yao has to actually assign himself something in order to avoid making a fool out of himself.

He settles in to go back to his project with a little creak of the wood-and-vinyl stool underneath him, the clanking of quarters dropping into the metal collection boxes followed by the hum and slosh of first one machine and then the other helping to soothe some of the adrenaline-spiked energy humming under his skin.

So long as Gym Guy stays on the other side of the (admittedly very small) space and minds his own business, Meng Yao can usually tune him out about halfway through the wash cycle, if his task is engrossing enough. This late on a Wednesday night they’re usually the only ones in the laundromat, though every other week one of the nurses from the hospital in town comes in off her back-to-back graveyard shifts to run all of her scrubs through the same sort of sanitizing wash Gym Guy uses for his stuff. She’s cute, Meng Yao has noticed, and she’s always nice, if a little tired around the edges. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t noticed that Gym Guy never bothers flirting with her even when she’d shown tentative interest in him at first.

He’s having a harder time ignoring Gym Guy’s presence tonight, but that’s got more to do with being unable to concentrate as well as he usually can than anything else. Gym Guy is sitting where he always does in one of the too-small plastic chairs by the front windows pretending to pay attention to QVC playing on the small TV up in the corner, perfectly within the usual respectful distance he always keeps. Meng Yao’s just tired tonight, having interrupted his own sleep schedule, such as it is, to finally go and visit his father just on the other side of town earlier this afternoon before the start of his shift. The twinge in his ribs and his hip remind him that he should have probably decided to do it on one of his few days off, but then again he hadn’t exactly expected his father to have him thrown down the front steps without even letting him in the door of his house, either.

At least, he muses in relief, he hadn’t tried to go see him down at Golden Carp. Of course he knows now that his father probably wouldn’t have made such a spectacle out of him if he’d had so many witnesses around that aren’t his immediate family, but then again…a man willing to kick his own son down the stairs where anyone out walking their dog might have seen probably wouldn’t care who sees it anyway. (He supposes that if he had gone to Golden Carp at least there wouldn’t have been any stairs to send him toppling down, but hindsight’s 20/20 and all that.)

It’s just past 9 when the jangling of the phone ringing at the other end of the counter shakes Meng Yao out of his less-than-pleasant contemplation on his sorry lot in life. He winces as he stands from the stool to pick it up, the quiet clatter of the plastic handset against the base barely audible over the sloshing and chugging of Gym Guy’s wash cycles.

“Fitz’s 24-hour Coin-op Laundry,” Meng Yao answers through a hitching breath as his ribs – most likely fractured, he thinks – resettle. “How can I help you?”

Meng Yao has less than a second to brace himself and jerk the receiver away from his face for the sake of his poor eardrum before the owner of the laundromat starts shouting loudly enough at him that he senses Gym Guy’s attention shifting from the TV to him. Great.

He lets the tirade go on for as long as he can stand before he attempts to cut in and maybe, if he’s lucky, defuse the bomb that is his boss’s notorious temper. This time of night he’s probably at least a full 12-pack into his usual 24-pack night, though, so Meng Yao’s hopes aren’t high.

“Mr Jameson - Mr - I didn’t - Mr Jameson I promise it won’t happen again -”

Meng Yao sighs well away from the receiver and turns his back to the rest of the laundromat, the cord stretching across his chest with the movement. He tangles his fingers between a few of the tight curls in it and clutches hard enough that his knuckles ache ever so slightly.

Finally, there’s a long enough break in the vitriol for Meng Yao to hurry and attempt to explain, “Mr Jameson. As I said this afternoon, I apologize for being late. I understand that it created difficulties for Anne, it was not my intention to make her late to pick up her children from daycare. I had a..a family emergency that required medical attention, it won’t be happening aga-“

Meng Yao gives in and hides his eyes behind his free hand as his boss gains a second wind and resumes shouting, something about how that’s no excuse, that unless he’d broken bones himself there was no reason not to be on time (as if on cue, his ribs and hip protest the fact that he’s currently upright and standing on a hard tile-and-concrete floor). Meng Yao attempts several more times to cut in to apologize further, but in the end it’s useless.

He sets the phone down carefully on the countertop and takes two shallow, grounding breaths before turning back to the room at large. It is, mercifully, still only occupied by Gym Guy.

Unfortunately, Gym Guy is looking right at him – glaring, actually – and Meng Yao ducks his head quickly rather than face that head-on. As quietly as he can he drags his stool and his filing project closer to the phone and settles down again, lips pressed tightly together around the possibility of a pained noise escaping his control. Meng Yao keeps an ear out for convenient places to demur a quiet, “Yes, Mr Jameson,” in between all the slights to his character and his (impeccable, unnecessarily driven, unusual) disappointing work ethic, but for the most part he turns his attention back to his project for something of a distraction.

Eventually, Mr Jameson’s tirade peters out enough for Meng Yao to lift the phone to his ear again and actually get a few words in edgewise. “I’m sorry for my…unsatisfactory behavior, Mr Jameson,” he lies through his teeth, “But please rest assured that I will not allow this to happen again. If you’ll excuse me, I have customers to attend to.”

Meng Yao returns the phone to its cradle before Mr Jameson can rally enough to start again and he closes his eyes in relief, hand still resting on the receiver as he exhales, long and slow just like Meng Shi taught him.

“That happen a lot?” Gym Guy’s voice is a low rumble under the sloshing of the washing machines and a too-chipper bottle blonde on the TV espousing the many benefits of a Casio label printer (“Look how easy it could be to label all your folders in just a couple easy steps!” If he had 90 bucks he’d buy the thing in a heartbeat).

“Me being late or Mr Jameson yelling?”

“The yelling. You don’t seem the type to run late.”

“The yelling, pretty regularly, yes, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. As for running late – I don’t. Ever . Today I just…”

“Family emergency.” Gym Guy nods like he gets it, like he knows exactly what happened despite Meng Yao not breathing a word of it to anyone at all. “No explanation needed as far as I’m concerned, especially if it’s not something you make a habit out of.”

Meng Yao blinks and tries to think of something clever to say, but between such a long stressful day and Gym Guy’s close proximity outside of their typical routine when he first arrives and Meng Yao can be prepared for it, Meng Yao’s thoughts are feeling a little too scrambled to be very clever at the moment.

“Right. Yeah. Thanks..?” Meng Yao trails off a little with a bit of a leading tone in his voice, and finally - after a frankly embarrassingly long time - Gym Guy seems to realize that they don’t actually know each other. He hurries to stick out one of his stupid enormous hands that Meng Yao has his little weekly crises over, and Meng Yao can’t be sure but it looks like his cheeks might be just a touch pink in the unflattering glow of the halogen lights overhead.

“Nie Mingjue.”

Meng Yao slips his hand into Nie Mingjue’s and absolutely does not have a second, slightly smaller crisis over how small his own palm is in comparison. That’s just the same crisis in a different flavor, it barely counts.

“Well thank you, Nie Mingjue.”

“Anytime.”

Gym Guy – Nie Mingjue, he mentally corrects himself, though he’s pretty sure he’ll always be ‘Gym Guy’ in his head – goes back to his seat by the TV set, Meng Yao returns to his filing, and just like that their usual weekly pattern resumes.

Right up until Nie Mingjue leaves a business card behind on his way out, with what seems to be a pager number scribbled on the back with the same shitty blue ballpoint pen Glenda down the street uses for her crosswords every Sunday evening.

-/-

“Let me get this straight,” Lan Xichen begins, poorly concealing a laugh behind his indulgent smile, and Nie Mingjue grumbles at him as he focuses on flipping a massive pancake with an expert flick of his wrist.

“Must you?”

“Well yes, darling, because it’s a bit unclear. You went to do the gym laundry on Wednesday evening like usual, yes?”

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue agrees begrudgingly, with the feeling that he’s walking into a trap.

“And the same young man who always mans the counter was there, but he seemed like he wasn’t feeling well?”

“No, he looked like he was injured . He wasn’t moving right.” Nie Mingjue ignores the amused little hum Lan Xichen offers in response to that. (It’s not weird to know how someone moves! It’s his job to make sure he keeps an eye on how people are moving, to make sure that he can prevent injuries before they happen or else prevent existing injuries from worsening. It’s normal!)

“So he was injured, but you didn’t ask about it because it would be rude and possibly a little…alarming to tell him that you’ve noticed him moving differently than usual. That much I understand. And then he got a phone call?”

Nie Mingjue grunts an assent before he elaborates. “Sounded like it was Mark Jameson. Fucking hate that guy.” The pancake takes the brunt of his irritation as he flips it perhaps too aggressively onto the plate waiting next to the griddle. He places a few sliced strawberries beside it much less aggressively and turns to set the plate in front of his boyfriend where he’s perched at the bar counter, and the kiss to his cheek Lan Xichen gives him soothes him only a little.

“And this would be the Mark Jameson who makes a nuisance of himself at every City Commerce Board meeting, and is generally belligerent to anyone and everyone no matter the circumstances?”

“That’s the one.”

“I see. So Mark Jameson, the belligerent drunk who owns the laundromat whom you hate, called to yell at this very polite and wonderful young man whom you quite like – who always knows precisely what you want without you having to say it anymore after having only told him once before, nearly a year ago. And Mr Jameson berated him for upwards of 20 minutes within your hearing?”

Nie Mingjue glares daggers at the new circle of batter bubbling sluggishly on the only functional hot spot on the griddle, mildly pissed that it isn’t ready to flip yet so he can’t vent his anger that way again so soon.

“Yes. And then like I already said , Meng Yao told me that Jameson yells at him all the time despite the fact that every time I see him he’s doing exactly what it seems like he should be – and more! He’s always doing something to keep himself busy, not just reading a magazine or watching the TV to pass the time, even when it’s just the two of us in there and I clearly don’t need anything.”

“And so you offered him a job instead…to get him away from Mr Jameson?”

Nie Mingjue huffs and feels his neck heat up because, well…Lan Xichen does have a point in not being able to follow the thread from there. Because no, Nie Mingjue hadn’t.. quite ..offered him a job.

“I left my card,” he mutters and flips the pancake even though it’s still too early. Almost half of it sticks to the griddle he’d forgotten to grease between pancakes, but since he’ll be eating this one he doesn’t bother caring. “With my number on it.”

“The landline at the gym?”

“...My beeper.”

There’s a beat of silence save for the quiet sizzle of his pancake, and then Lan Xichen bursts into delighted giggles so infectious that Nie Mingjue can’t even be upset with him. It is fairly ridiculous after all, especially since he hadn’t even given Meng Yao the card directly but had instead just left it on the seat he always uses, the one with the best view of the TV up in the corner as well as the farthest from the counter to avoid possibly making Meng Yao uncomfortable when they’re alone late into the evenings.

He flips his pancake onto the second waiting plate and lets Lan Xichen douse it in syrup and whipped cream for him – their shared tendency to eat healthily is nowhere to be seen when they eat breakfast together at the Nie house (and need the extra calories anyway) – and thankfully then Lan Xichen is too busy kissing whipped cream and sugared strawberry juice from his lips to bother him anymore about his awkward attempts at getting Meng Yao out of what’s clearly a tough spot.

But then, come Monday morning, he discovers that for some reason it actually worked .

“Nie Mingjue,” Meng Yao greets him when Nie Mingjue shows up at 6:30am on the dot to start getting the gym ready to open at 7. He’s standing in front of the doors, hands clasped tightly together in front of him, anxiety written into every line of his body as Nie Mingjue approaches.

“Meng Yao.”

They stare at each other for a moment in the clammy early June humidity already clinging to the small of Nie Mingjue’s back before Meng Yao sucks in a sharp breath and sticks a hand out between them, Nie Mingjue’s business card pinched neatly between his first two fingers.

“Nie Mingjue, I’m flattered and everything but-”

“Come work for me.”

Nie Mingjue blinks as the half-finished rejection registers, and Meng Yao blinks up at him looking both similarly startled and just as uncertain how to proceed.

“Excuse me?” Meng Yao finally manages with his usual smile pinched into place. Nie Mingjue clears his throat and comforts himself with the fact that the Unclean Realm is the earliest business in the strip mall to open, so no one in this gossiping little micro-community he has to see on a daily basis is present to witness him already blundering his way through something that should be so simple.

“I can tell you work hard, and your memory seems pretty fucking good. Jameson’s an asshole who can’t see a good thing when he’s staring one right in the face, let alone appreciate what he’s got, so..if you’re interested…”

“A job,” Meng Yao repeats in a way that should probably be a question. Nie Mingjue nods just in case it was meant to be one even though it didn’t quite sound like it. “Here. Doing what, exactly?”

Nie Mingjue shrugs a bit and crosses his arms over his chest, though he drops them again instantly (Lan Xichen has told him it makes him look intimidating, and the last thing he wants to do is scare Meng Yao off). “Front of house? I run a few courses throughout the week, but it’s hard to find time to do all the administrative parts of it when I’m also running the classes and doing personal training sessions in between them. Members can pay their dues any day throughout the month, which can get tough to keep track of amongst everything else. I’ve got electricity bills and rent to pay, documents from the last…oh, ten years or so? that should really be filed properly…”

Nie Mingjue trails off into amused silence at the downright dreamy look that’s crept over Meng Yao’s expression. It takes a few long seconds – in which a single rustbucket car passes by on the main road off to the left already blaring something loud and grungy despite the hour – before Meng Yao seems to give himself a little shake and the dreamy expression is gone, replaced by his usual polite smile.

“I was under the impression that your brother assists you?” Meng Yao asks, and Nie Mingjue is once again impressed with his ability to recall even the most insignificant details he’d probably mentioned in passing months or more ago.

“Stick around and try it out for a week and you’ll understand exactly why I need you instead.”

That dreamy look slips back in for a fraction of a second before it’s gone again so quickly Nie Mingjue wonders if he imagined it. Between one second and the next, though, Meng Yao is once again holding out his hand, although this time there’s nothing caught between his fingers. Cautiously, mildly afraid of spooking him, Nie Mingjue reaches across the distance between them to shake Meng Yao’s hand a couple times.

“When should I start?” Meng Yao asks. Nie Mingjue can’t do anything at all to stop the smug smirk that twitches at the corner of his lips at the thought of telling Lan Xichen he didn’t actually fuck this up at all.

“Soon as you want? I don’t think Mark Jameson is the kind of bastard who deserves a two-week notice and it’s not like I’ll be calling him for a reference anyway, but I’ll leave that up to you.”

“I’d like to not burn bridges if I don’t have to, so I’ll at least work out a week’s notice, if that’s alright?” Meng Yao hedges, nervous around the edges. “And I’m assuming this isn’t another night shift gig-”

Nie Mingjue winces just a little and shakes his head, abruptly remembering that while his day’s just beginning, at this time of morning Meng Yao must be practically ready to pass out after a full shift through the night at the laundromat.

“Days, yeah. You don’t have to come in as early as I do if you don’t want to, though.”

Meng Yao hums without comment, but Nie Mingue thinks he can safely assume, even from the little that he knows about the other man, that he’ll be there every morning at 6:30, on the dot, just like him.

“And next week works just fine,” Nie Mingjue adds to be on the safe side. Meng Yao’s shoulders relax a little more and Nie Mingjue finds himself feeling a little smug about that too. It’s a nice feeling to know he can actually make someone feel relaxed (besides Lan Xichen, everyone else tends to get a bit…wary when he’s around. Even [or maybe especially] his own brother).

“Will you need an extra day or two after to get your sleep schedule switched around?”

“I can fix it quickly. I’ll be in a week from today.”

Meng Yao leaves just like that with a sweet smile up at him in parting, seeming…lighter than he has every other time their paths have crossed. Nie Mingjue watches him go with something like satisfaction tugging at the corner of a little smile of his own.

Lan Xichen’s poorly-concealed surprise (and his fond amusement) when Nie Mingjue tells him the news is only surpassed by the betrayed glare Nie Huaisang gives him when he tells his brother he’s being replaced (but that it does not give him an excuse to stop showing up at the gym entirely!).

-/-

AUGUST

It somehow always manages to catch Lan Xichen by surprise that the hottest days of summer are so late in the year. When June sweeps in on thunderheads and blistering winds after the cool rains of May it seems like that must be the hottest the days will become, sticky and threatening with rumbles off in the distance, felt more than heard. Or when July burns hot enough to turn the sky white and the asphalt cracks apart between puddles of shimmering heat, and the kids from the apartments down the street all dare each other to see if they can really fry an egg on the blacktop before Madam Yu or Lan Qiren chases them off with a round of scolding – surely those days are the peak of summer?

But then August comes, with its golden days that melt into molasses evenings, the sun rising in a flurry of hot winds and lingering high overhead for long hours, refusing to set properly until well after the fireflies have settled back into the rustling yellowed grass for the night and the trees are holding their breath, waiting for the brief respite of a hot sticky night before the sun burns overhead again.

Lan Xichen stands at the front windows of Cloud Recesses and looks across the foreboding expanse of the parking lot – that reminds him of nothing today so much as the griddle Nie Mingjue makes them pancakes on every Sunday morning – towards the squat bulk of the Unclean Realm Fitness Center with a sort of restless itching under his skin that he doesn’t think he can blame on the thin layer of sweat-salt dusting his back and arms.

“I’d like to have dinner at Lotus Pier tonight,” he tells Lan Qiren when his Uncle finishes locking up the safe in the back for the night. “I heard from Wangji that they made a big batch of liang mian for lunch and offered the leftovers to anyone who wants them for dinner tonight.”

Lan Qiren just nods and glares out at the heat mirages winking in the cups and dips of the parking lot that’s badly in need of re-tarring it’ll probably never see. “I’ll make some tonight with cucumber and sesame for you and Wangji to eat tomorrow, you shouldn’t eat anything hot with the weather like this.”

“Thank you, Uncle, that would be appreciated.”

“Hmph. Be home by midnight.”

“Yes Uncle,” Lan Xichen agrees easily. Perhaps most would think he should chafe at being in his 20’s and still beholden to a curfew, but anyone who would think such things wouldn’t have had Lan Qiren for a guardian as a teenager and known how short the leash could be. (Besides, he knows his Uncle can’t sleep until he and Wangji are both home safe, and the curfew is more out of courtesy to him and his sleep schedule than it is any desire to control Lan Xichen’s freedom too much.)

Lan Qiren offers another nod and allows Lan Xichen to open the door for him, heat billowing into the cold vacuum of the shop and heating Lan Xichen’s face. They live close enough to the Jianghu Center to walk to and from work, and so Lan Xichen lingers there at the windows until he sees Lan Qiren disappear across the street and around the corner, headed for their tree-dense neighborhood, and only then does he turn his attention back to the windowed front of the Unclean Realm – where he spots Meng Yao’s teasing glance through the door over the sign he deftly flips over to ‘Closed’ with a smile.

Lan Xichen does not, as a general rule, scramble . Lan Qiren raised him and Lan Wangji to carry themselves with dignity. They even both took ballet lessons as children to help with such important things as grace, and balance, and giving Lan Qiren free time three evenings a week to gossip with the aunties who run the Asian market down the street.

He does, however, hurry (gracefully) to finish locking up the shop and head across the parking lot to that beckoning gaze, the lingering heat of the day settling under his skin like the pleased flush already darkening his ears.

“Hello A-Yao,” he greets as warmly as the air outside as he shuts and locks the door to the gym behind himself.

“Hi Er-ge. You’re so…prompt,” Meng Yao teases him with a smile and a pointed tap of a sheaf of papers on his desk to align them. Lan Xichen can’t even remotely deny it, so instead he shrugs (gracefully) and offers up an unapologetic smile.

“Where’s A-Sang?”

“Jiang Cheng took him out for dinner and then they’re going to the arcade, I believe.”

“Didi’s been running his mouth off for weeks about getting the highest score in Dragon’s Lair, so Jiang Cheng told him he has to either do it again to prove it or else shut the fuck up,” Nie Mingjue calls through the open door to his office behind the front desk. “And we’re all very grateful.”

“I see,” Lan Xichen laughs with a lift of his chin and Meng Yao dimples up at him so sweetly that Lan Xichen doesn’t resist the urge to lean over the vinyl counter displaying the gym’s name and logo to press a shy kiss to his cheek. This… thing that the three of them are apparently doing for real – for the long haul – is still new enough that it sets his stomach fluttering each time he remembers he’s allowed to show such little affections, and judging by the way Meng Yao blushes he’s similarly shy but equally as pleased to be doted on.

He leaves Meng Yao tidying up his workspace for the evening and continues on into Nie Mingjue’s office to give his other boyfriend a kiss to his cheek as well, one that’s more comfortable, like coming home at the end of a long day, but no less thrilling for the mundanity of it.

“Hi,” Nie Mingjue greets, happy and soft around the edges, so Lan Xichen kisses him again on his forehead and lingers long enough to taste the salt on his skin. Their air conditioner has long since been fixed, of course, but Meng Yao’s administrative skills (and eagerness to help with any other tasks that need doing) means that Nie Mingjue is now able to teach classes all day long, and no amount of AC in the world can completely combat the sort of rigorous workout Nie Mingjue now gets on a daily basis.

“Hello darling. Will I go get things set up out back?”

“Yeah sure, but there’s not much to do. The chairs are still set up from last time, just need the noodles from next door. A-Yao’s already got the Igloo under the desk stocked up, I’ll take it out when we’re done in here.”

Lan Xichen, pleased to have a task that’ll help keep him from distracting either of his boyfriends as they finish up for the day, heads over to Lotus Pier to snag the noodles Jiang Yanli had at some point this afternoon portioned out nicely for everyone in the shopping center in a small army of takeout containers topped with paper-wrapped chopsticks, and he makes sure to thank her as he snags the containers labeled for his family, the Nie brothers, and Meng Yao. She gives him a wave and a sweet smile from over the sizzling wok she’s dutifully manning despite the heat of the day, but in the interest of not distracting her during the start of the dinner rush he doesn’t linger for a chat like he otherwise might. As he crosses back over to the gym he’s pleased to hear the rattling and creaking of the deck chairs Nie Mingjue now keeps stashed outside the utility door for evenings just like this.

Lan Xichen rounds the corner of the building and smiles to see Nie Mingjue just getting settled into his preferred seat, a lounger that someone (probably the Jiang brothers during an ill-advised nighttime spree with Nie Huaisang) stole from the local pool. Wherever it came from, it now serves as a perfect place for Nie Mingjue to stretch out his tired muscles and soak up the honey heat of the evening to relax. Lan Xichen lingers just out of sight to watch Meng Yao smile at him as he perches in his lap to pass him a beer, the brown glass bottle already covered in citrine crystals, droplets of condensation reflecting the same sun that limns them both in late-summer gold.

“Ah, our beloved hero returns,” Meng Yao says happily when he spots him. “And with enough noodles to feed an entire army, Da-ge!”

“They’re not all for us, but I figured it’s no use bothering them twice during the dinner rush to fetch everyone else’s,” Lan Xichen answers magnanimously with a little slap to Nie Mingjue’s grasping hand reaching for the container marked ‘Teacher Lan’. He doles out the proper containers quickly, sets the rest safely out of reach of Nie Mingjue pinned under Meng Yao, and settles into his creaking chair with a happy sigh, more than content to enjoy their presence as they eat together in companionable silence.

Unsurprisingly, Nie Mingjue finishes his portion first. Lan Xichen watches in amused silence as he sets his container aside, drains his beer in a few long pulls with swallows that make his pronounced adam’s apple bob, and then sets that aside as well to leave his hands free to start feeling up Meng Yao almost lazily. Lan Xichen settles in with one leg crossed primly over the other, elbows on the hard metal arms of his pool chair, and smirks around his next bite to see Meng Yao pout and swat half-heartedly at Nie Mingjue’s shamelessly roaming hands.

“I’m eating , Da-ge,” he scolds, his wrist in front of his lips to attempt to stay polite while talking with his mouth full, and Nie Mingjue’s happy chuckling settles something deep in Lan Xichen’s chest. He’d worried when they’d started this that he would grow jealous after spending so long pursuing his best friend and having really only just caught him for keeps, but so far he’s only been happy that there’s one more person in Nie Mingjue’s life who can make him laugh and feel as adored as he deserves (and who laughs and allows them to adore him in return, as well).

“I’m not stopping you from eating, A-Yao, and this is your fault for flirting with me all day when I couldn’t do anything about it anyway.”

“I was not flirting , I was picking up after your class of heathens left their pads and foam blocks all over the floor!”

“And how did you know which incident I was talking about specifically if you weren’t sticking your ass out on purpose to rile me up, huh?”

Lan Xichen laughs out loud then and leans forward, stands up just enough to duck in and press a conciliatory kiss to Meng Yao’s cheek while he grumbles half-heartedly and stabs his chopsticks into his noodles with more viciousness than they deserve.

Nie Mingjue doesn’t stop his wandering hands but Meng Yao doesn’t protest again, he simply finishes his dinner quickly and sets his container aside to turn and lounge back against Nie Mingjue’s broad chest properly with every visible effort to get comfortable, sinking into him and cracking open a water bottle to sip on carefully as dusk falls soft and purple-blue around them.

“Xichen, c’mere,” Nie Mingjue eventually mumbles when he finishes his own portion. There’s no question anymore about how they’ll all fit together – Meng Yao parts his legs enough to give him room to straddle Nie Mingjue’s thighs just above his knees, and then Meng Yao brings his legs back in to drape them over Lan Xichen’s thighs in turn, the three of them tangling together easily to the tune of the complaining creaks from sun-bleached vinyl straps and the metal frame of the chair.

Lan Xichen ignores the furniture’s protest in favor of leaning in to kiss his partners indiscriminately, lips catching on and skating across sun- and blush-warmed skin. Meng Yao’s delicate ear. The tip of Nie Mingjue’s nose. Nie Mingjue’s lips first, then Meng Yao’s when he turns his head to seek him out for his turn.

He and Nie Mingjue have fit together seamlessly since the day they both realized they want to, but there’s something special about having Meng Yao between them like this, soft and warm and trusting in the hazy dark. The streetlamps out in the parking lot and down by the road click on with their low electrical fizzing buzz, but here behind the gym, among the plumbing pipes and their new hulking AC units now silent for the night to save electricity, there’s none of that harsh orange glow. There’s only the three of them in the slowly-oozing night, comfortable in their shadows and the sticky August gloaming, too hot to be so close but unwilling to part for long enough to let the breeze cool them into getting comfortable again.

Nie Mingjue’s hands skate up and down Lan Xichen’s back, his sides. Meng Yao’s hands tangle in his hair, cup the back of his neck. Lan Xichen kisses them both with lazy appreciation, his entire world narrowed down to the two men underneath him that he hopes know how much he loves them, even though Meng Yao is such a recent (but vital) addition to their relationship.

True night falls as they make out and they pay it no mind tangled up together, trading kisses and quiet laughter and anecdotes about their days all with the same ease in their first perfect August together.

-/-

BONUS

“It’s alright, A-Cheng, I promise,” Nie Huaisang wheedles as he unlocks the door to the gym and drags his newly-minted boyfriend (!) into the dark, absolute except for the squares of dull orange cutting through the gloom from the streetlamps out in the parking lot. He drags Jiang Cheng quickly, eagerly away from the front windows and further into the darkened building, more than confident in his ability to wend his way through the obstacles of machines and equipment without injury.

“You’re sure your brother isn’t here?” Jiang Cheng asks, dubious, and Nie Huaisang wishes the lights were on so his boyfriend (!!) could see him pouting at him over his shoulder for his lack of trust.

“I told you, he always goes straight home after he locks up! He’s always talking about responsibility and duty and ‘eating a hearty dinner’ and ‘getting enough rest’. So boring! But good for us now, I suppose, so maybe I can forgive him.”

“How kind of you,” Jiang Cheng says dryly enough Nie Huaisang doesn’t have to be able to see him to know he’s rolling his eyes at him.

“I know! I’m the best didi, aren’t I?”

“You’re something alright,” Jiang Cheng mutters under his breath, but he squeezes Nie Huaisang’s hand tightly and then brings it up to his lips to kiss his knuckles, which is just so unbelievably sweet that Nie Huaisang can forgive him his sass. (As if it isn’t part of what he likes so much about Jiang Cheng anyway.)

“Come on, we’ll just grab some soda and head out back, okay? No one’ll look for us out there, even if Da-ge does happen to come back out here for some reason tonight.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng shrugs easily, so trusting. Nie Huaisang squeezes his hand back and guides him through the gym, steals a few cans of Coke from the fridge under the front desk by feel, and manages to sneak a kiss when he straightens back up. He tows Jiang Cheng through the gym while his boyfriend (!!!) recovers from such a devastating surprise attack, and Nie Huaisang is so busy being pleased with himself that he wouldn’t have even stopped at the back door had Jiang Cheng not tugged on his hand and hissed a frantic, “ Wait, stop, A-Sang! ”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, bewildered, and then his eyes make sense of what he can see through the glass-paneled back door and he barely manages to stifle his yelp in the back of Jiang Cheng’s hand still laced with his own.

The space behind the gym is as dark as he’d expected it to be – he’d brought Jiang Cheng here for a reason after all – so the tangled mess of limbs and disheveled clothing looks a bit like some sort of eldritch Lovecraftian monster before it crystalizes into the distinct forms of his brother making out with not one but two men, who he quickly identifies as Meng Yao by his gray Unclean Realm t-shirt and Lan Xichen by his white Cloud Recesses polo practically glowing in the dark.

“Whoa,” Jiang Cheng breathes from over his shoulder, and Nie Huaisang finds he suddenly understands how Nie Mingjue feels every time he’s confronted with Nie Huaisang’s interest in erotica. There is nothing chaste about the way Nie Mingjue has his hands hiked up under Lan Xichen’s shirt or the way Meng Yao is rolling his hips in between the two of them, and Nie Huaisang feels like his face is on fire.

“Oh my god. Oh no,” he breathes, despairing. “A-Cheng…I think my brother fucks .”

Jiang Cheng snorts at that and releases his hand to swat his ass lightly. “Clearly. So…what now? Your place is clearly unoccupied considering what we’re looking at.”

Nie Huaisang swallows and tears his gaze away from the spectacle he wishes he’d never seen and momentarily tables his fantasy of burning the deck chairs Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian had stolen for him when he’d complained about having nowhere to sit outside to hang out with them.

“A-Cheng,” he whines, pleading. “This is a crisis !”

“A-Sang, you’re the horniest person I’ve ever met,” Jiang Cheng snorts, and now that Nie Huaisang has turned to look at him he can see just how hard his boyfriend (!!!!) is trying not to laugh at his torment. “What’s the big deal? That he fucks more than you?”

“Oh and if you walked in on your parents like that -” he jams his thumb over his shoulder towards the three out back- “You’d be totally cool and ready to do it with me two seconds later?”

Jiang Cheng’s expression twists in distaste and Nie Huaisang knows his point has been thoroughly made, so there’s no need to gloat about it.

“Ugh. Ew. Take me home, A-Cheng, my delicate constitution can’t handle this. I’m in shock. Shock, I tell you. Come take care of me.”

“You’re so weird,” Jiang Cheng mutters but takes his hand again anyway and they hurry to leave the gym – and Nie Mingjue’s shocking sex life – far enough behind them for Nie Huaisang to pretend he never had to witness it in the first place.

#the untamed fanfic #3zun #Sangcheng #modern AU #the sangcheng is very brief (and newly established) at the end #the focus is of course 3zun #Tales From Jianghu Shopping Center #Honey-Sweet and Heavy #Edit: Fixed the weird formatting issue from pasting directly from google docs #Sorry for the time skip. I started to write LXC and MY meeting/being attracted to each other/starting poly negotiations #but it just didn't fit with the Vibes and you know that's what I'm going for in everything but especially this 'verse #I have a running document keeping up with all the scenes/things I cut when they're not working out for me and I'm thinking #I might post them before the year is out just for funsies #In which case you'd see the snippet I wrote before I cut it #But anyway just know that sometime between June and August 3zun got together and are having a GREAT time

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