#[definitely let me know if any of this isn't all right or if you need more to work with!]

[dwaekkicidal]

Oh my god I beg for some mean skz smut 😔😔

hmmmm ok but what are we thinking for the hyung line?

is it about meanie channie who snaps after you slut yourself out in the studio when staff was in there- along with the rest of 3racha who you know has a little crush on you hehe. he barely waits for them to walk out the door before shoving you towards the door, forcing you to lock it before shoving his cock into you while you're pushed up against the door- mind you with minimum prep because "You don't deserve it. after that shit." his cock is soooo much thicker like this!!!! >.< and he manages to make his thrusts prove his anger? hips smacking into yours so harshly that it feels like the soundproof door isn't enough to drown any sounds out

what about brat tamer minho who forces you to sit between his legs and watch him jerk himself off? you have a pretty little vibrator thats connect to your clit and your g-spot simultaneously, and he has the controls on his phone that rests in his free hand. he fucks with the controls so much... maybe even teasing u by drawing his full name- in english AND korean- before setting it to the highest setting and leaving it like that until you're cumming at least 3 times.

my sweet binnie who's only mean if you beg him to be or if you reaaaaally push his buttons- maybe throw in a dig or two about how theres another man out there thats better than he is (spoiler: theres literally negative of them). your punishment (reward) is always the same! one of those those sexy ass arms around your neck and squeezing as he fucks into you so roughly that your whole body is jumping forward, your moans cutting off from how aggressive he gives it to you!!!

ok but what about lover boy hyunjin who is actually one of the meanest doms you have ever seen, 99% of the time it being unprompted as well??? the first time you push him to get rough in bed, you're in for ittt~ he ties your wrists up and connects you to the hook in the ceiling, leaving just enough rope for you to be on your tippy toes (also the same hook he previously told you was for painting... yeah, my fucking ass) and speaking of asses, yours is sooo sore from the big handed smacks he leaves there >< he'll always stop if you want it, but otherwise he has no plans to until you submit to him completely <3

whats on the menu for the maknaes today?

definitely munch hannie who ties you up with the most random shit that works- any ties he has laying around, your panties, and sometimes he'll straight up rip his shoelaces out for it?? but it's all so that he can show off the shibari he secretly learned- the main one being a series of knots that tie your arms to a leg each, forcing you wide open for him all the while he eats. and what a messy fucking eater!!! your last 3 orgasms worth of cum dripping down his jaw as he nibbles at your sensitive spots <3

"angel boy" felix me thinks.. who makes you fuck yourself onto him in doggy, refusing to put any effort because he's the "angel" who deserves to be worshipped (yes but...) if you falter even slightly or move to his disliking, you're getting a series of mean smacks- ones that leave a pretty little heart shape in its wake from the pretty pink paddle he insisted on buying (OR HIS INITIALS IF HE GETS A CUSTOM PADDLE OMFFF)

ohhhh but owner seungmin who fucks your brains out with a pretty little collar around your neck <3 (maybe even one also with his initials engraved hehe) he tugs at it to fuck you back onto him, not even need a leash when he slides his finger through one of the loops. huffs and puffs about how tight you are while he actively works to make you tighter, from squeezing your legs together to overstimulating the hell out of you all the while he disallows himself to cum for as long as he can handle, all so when he finally busts theres so much and its all getting fucked right back into you

and god... toy fiend jeongin... the second you let him know you're ok with toys being brought into the bedroom, you're almost regretting everything!!! he's SO fucked up about it >:( he keeps one of those big hands around your throat while the other slides a vibrator as deep into you as it physically can go without causing you pain... and when you squirm around and your legs squeeze together, he's either digging his fingers into your thigh to push them apart or he's biting whatever he's closest to- your thighs, your calf, your shoulder, or (his favorite) your nipples <3

hnnnnng....

Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

@aeri-skzver

[sunnylucy31]

TheShatteredQueen posted in /r/AmITheAsshole:

AITA for doing whatever I can to save my people from genocide?

So obviously that title needs a bit of clarification. I (21f) am leader of a very small and tight knit minority group that's being persecuted by a very rich and very powerful man (3200m) and his family. For anonymity's sake we'll call him "Thunderbeard." He wants us all exterminated and our souls sent straight to eternal punishment, just because he has beef with our parents, my father (10000m) in particular. My father is also his father, but that doesn't really matter to him so we'll leave that aside.

We don't want anything to do with our parents; they made us solely to use as expendable soldiers, and we want more out of life. I literally diced one of them (7400m) and threw the pieces into super hell so we could avoid that. Unfortunately we only got a couple days of peace before Thunderbeard learned about us and had a bunch of his "employees" start hunting us. This was about five years ago.

I've lost good people. I can't imagine how they must be suffering right now, for no good reason. We'll all join them if we don't do something. I have a long term plan, but to enact it I need to buy us time.

Here's where things get complicated. Thunderbeard and his co-tyrants have kids similar to us, and a lot of them. Some are much younger than us, a few are much older, but they definitely outnumber us by a sizeable margin. Whenever Thunderbeard and Co need a job done, they typically send a few of the kids out to do it, more depending on how big the job is. The only reason they haven't been sent against us yet is because Thunderbeard thinks there's not enough of us to warrant it. My worry is that once he realizes he's wrong, he'll "rally the troops," as it were, and we'll be overwhelmed.

So I looked for ways to mitigate that, and happened on one that's a bit morally contentious. See, their kids are split into two groups (the criteria for which is a bit hard to follow and not really relevant atm) that have fought each other in the past. My thought was, if they fight again, maybe they'll weaken each other enough that we stand a chance against them. We've been laying the groundwork for that for a few years now, and earlier this week we kicked things firmly into motion. Barring any unforeseen mishaps, it could be the saving grace we've been praying for.

Now clearly that's not a good thing to do, I'm fully aware of that. It's already putting strain on my personal relationships. I just learned that I have a half-sister (19f) who I'd love to get to know, but she thinks I'm a "warmonger" and won't hear me out at all. It's all I can do some nights to fall asleep while the guilt eats away me.

But what else should we do? My people are counting on me to save them. We're damned even if we do nothing, so isn't the moral thing to fight however we can, even if it's sneaky and underhanded?

AITA?

StrengthAndEndurance: NTA. It's your job to think about what's best for the people under you, not anyone else. Keep your head high, don't let the guilt get to you.

FerrumMemoria: NTA. The oppressed have never gained anything by playing fair with their oppressors. In any liberation movement, bloodshed is inevitable. The ruler who does not recognize this is not fit to rule. Carry on as you have, and worry not about the judgement of history until you've survived to write it.

StargazerButch7: NTA. I understand feeling guilty, but there's no easy way out of this mess. We all appreciate the hard choices you have to make for our sakes. Keep the faith!

WaterloggedRedhead: NTA! Thunderbeard is the real asshole! Keep up the good work, we're all behind you!

Write an r/AmITheAsshole post told from your OC’s perspective. (Bonus: include replies from your other OCs.)

[jellyskink]

Just another Manic Muesday (Sorry I couldn't think of a better title lol.)

"Alright Dr. Pines, I'm pleased to report that your lab results for your bloodwork have finally been logged and updated to our medical system since the last we saw each other."

"H-huh? Oh! I'm certainly glad to hear that Dr. Oleander! Forgive me, I'm afraid my mind was wandering just now."

Sunshine shown through the windows of the medical doctor's office, bathing parts of the room with it's comforting warm rays. Outside, leaves of different colors and types scattered in the breeze with an air of playfullness to them. It was truly a lovely autumn day.

At least... it was as lovely as it could get lately. When it wasn't the occasional inanimate object coming to life to either cause mischief, panic, harm, or all of the above, the slowly randomizing weather definitely made it trickier to enjoy nature. 

Quite literally the other day it was a record-breaking freezing winter, followed the day after by a sweltering summer so hot that not only could you fry an egg on the sidewalk, but you could fry the chicken that laid it as well if you wanted to.

"That's quite alright, I just wanted to let you know that we did find some rather... interesting results."

"What kind of results? A-anything my Muse should be concerned over? I must inform him if there's anything that would cause him to worry over me!"

"Er, it's nothing as dire as that I assure you. I moreso wanted to let you know that in comparison to your first blood test, there's improvement to your overall health! I'm really proud of you that you're making progress."

"O-oh um thanks I suppose? I don't believe it's because of my choices truthfully. If it wasn't for my Muse's instance and kindness about my health I don't believe I could've done it on my own!"

"Dr. Pines I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit, only those who want help can accept it as they always say..."

"No, no! I'm serious! I'm truly thankful he's been stern that I see Stanley on a regular basis!

 I'm quite forgetful with taking care to see him regularly. Stanley's always worried about me, it pains me to see him filled with grief whenever I'm unable to talk to him for a bit due to my Muse and I's busy schedule.

Without him I'm sure my health and relationship with my Brother would be absolutely horrible!"

"..."

"Dr. Oleander? Is something the matter? You aren't speaking to me as much as you usually do."

"Forgive me Dr. Pines, I'm just a bit conflicted right now. I've just got a lot on my mind as well. On a similar subject, I do want to apologize for overstepping my boundaries with talking to you about your relationship with Mr.Cipher."

"..."

"I-it's fine. I know you didn't mean to be so crude on purpose. My Muse and I's relationship is often a subject to many due to it's complex and sublime love."

"Yes I believe you're right... Forgive me Doctor, I have a tendency to involve myself too much in my work."

"You d-don't need to apologize for that! It's a quality my Muse approves of you for! He wouldn't let just anyone treat any medical problems I have, the fact you have his trust is a sign you're great at what you do Doctor Oleander."

"... I appreciate your reassurance, though it still isn't very professional of me to be so casual with my speech with you about my troubles with my confidence as a medical practitioner."

"I don't mind! I swear!! I-I think you're a lot like the plant you share your surname with."

"I'm sorry?"

"Y-you know, Oleander? Also known as Rosebay? It's a perennial shrub and tree known and loved for it's vitality, resilience, and beauty. 

My Muse likes the fact every part of it is poisonous, it's definitely a kicker that's certain!

Personally I love the fact that certain species of caterpillars use the plant as both a food source and a way to defend themselves against predators! 

In particular, there's a species of moths known as the Oleander Hawk Moth, that does this! It's a very interesting and rare kind of Moth to see! I personally consider it to be one of my favorites!"

"Haha! Is that so? W-well thank you Doctor for that compliment and the accompanying fact."

"..."

"Ick are you two nerds just about done being boring together?"

"O-oh! Mr. Cipher! My apologies! We were just about done with Dr. Pine's appointment. It's my fault for taking longer than usual with his appointment..."

"You know Doco? Normally I'd be furious buuut this does mean Sixer finally has a buddy to talk about his more boring nerd things with! 

Congrats! You've redeemed yourself from me needing to find Sixer a new doctor!

This is definitely a blessing in disguise for me as you humans say! Now, be a doll and tell Sixer to hurry on home now? We've got places to be and mayhem to cause!"

"Of course Mr.Cipher. I'll be sure to do that right away."

"Oh and Doco before I forget, just know that I'll be keeping a closer eye on the time in the future. Fordsy's on a pretty tight schedule you know! I'd hate to have to CUT into both you and him over not keeping track of time. 

Although that would mean I'd have the chance to change things up when my pet needs a reminder that he needs to behave... And I would have the chance to really see how your meatsacks work without needing to worry about needing to harm a hair on Sixer's head... 

Whoops did I say that out loud? Haha! My bad! Anyways, pleasure talking with you Doco! Byee!!"

"Ugghh..."

"Dr.Pines! Er, I'm sorry to have to cut this conversation short, but Mr.Cipher has requested I let you know that you've been out for a while and must return back to him as quickly as you can."

*Gasp* "O-Oh no! Please forgive me my Muse! I didn't mean to forget to watch the time! I'll be home soon!! ThankyouforyourtimeDr.OleanderbutIsimplymustbegoing!!"

"Dr.Pines, I'll have your meds refilled and ready by hopefully the end of today!!"

*Sigh* "I really need to think about changing professions..."

(Just as soon as she says this, Mcgucket falls out of a tree very ungracefully, scampering after Ford. 

"???"

"What the-? Okayyy and now cowboy hillbillies are just falling out of trees now. Why am I surprised?? 

I'm going home early today, I deserve it. It's too early for this. I can't wait to just go back to bed and hug Calamari soon..."

(I hope you likes my attempt at some fanfiction! I wasn't sure if I should write it like a book or like a visual novel. The font stuff is probably really wonky because I typed this all around 1am and on my phone so my apologies for that lol.

I'm glad you liked my idea at trying to write some fanfiction about your au's Ford and Irene. Or would it be friendfiction in this case?? Anyways, I think I like the platonic route too. Maybe if Ford and Irene were to be a ship it'd be a friends to lovers thing or something? Idk. I was thinking about writing a more Irene and Calamari focused sequal to this, but I'm not sure if I should? Idk lmaoo.)

THIS ANON WROTE A REALLY CUTE FRIENDSHIPPING FIC OF FORD AND OLEANDER looklooklook it's so cuuuuuute 💕

[perpetualcontrolleddrowning]

Zui Xian Peak Fic

alright, that's enough, let's get you home

JRaylin441

Summary: Liao Qinglan spends her days making wine, drinking with Shang Qinghua, and having a good time. Surely, this will never be disrupted.

Written for the Gotcha for Gaza prompt "would love a fic about Zui Xian, the Cang Qiong Mountain devoted to...alcohol. What are they doing over there?"

Content Warnings: there isn't much here beyond a LOT of drinking and getting drunk. It's not presented as an unhealthy coping mechanism but please just take care of yourself. Also Liao Qinglan has some bias against demons that she works through. It's not a whole deep thing and I keep the tone light, but be aware of that too.

Read it on ao3 here (x)

Cang Qiong Mountain Sect has twelve peaks. That's something they don't talk about a whole lot. Well, okay, so they talk about the fact that there are twelve of them, all the damn time. Twelve peaks. A nice, round number.

But who can actually remember all the peaks? Who could actually name them? Sometimes it feels like the literal members of the sect can't do it, let alone any of the common folk or the people from other cultivation sects around them.

Sometimes, Liao Qinglan lets this get to her. Sometimes, it really bothers her, that no one seems to give enough of a shit about her peak to even remember that it exists, let alone the names of its peak lord and disciples.

Usually, though, it kind of kicks ass. Like, all of the benefits that come with affiliation with the most prominent and highly-revered cultivation sect in the jianghu but none of the actual obligation, expectation, or responsibility. Not too bad a deal, when you think about it.

"I'd take that any day. Please, someone come and give me a single day when some peak lord or another isn't pounding on my door, begging me to come fix another thing, give them more money to replace the wall again, and they pinky-promise that this time, this time they definitely aren't going to break it. I mean, fuck, you know? What am I beyond a money purse, if you think about it?" Shang-shixiong flops his head down into his arms, resting against the fine oak table in Liao Qinglan's home and groping across it to take another sad sip of his wine. It drips down the side of his mouth and onto the wood, since it's almost impossible to drink when you're laying down like that. Liao Qinglan can do it, but she's kind of an expert, when it comes to things like this.

"I mean, what was I thinking? Why does a money purse need to have feelings and the ability to be tired? Could have just made it a magical, floating cave full of riches. Psychically read the mind of everyone who comes and gives them the money they need if they deserve it. Fuck. But no, had to go and make an overworked lackey of it all. Should have known, with my luck."

"Truly, your suffering is never ending," Liao Qinglan drawls, reaching out to refill Shang-shishu's cup, because she's nice like that. He's not making any sense right now, and he'll start making even less sense if he drinks the new cup, but that's fine too. What kind of peak lord could she call herself, if she wasn't prepared for such things?

Liao Qinglan, peak lord of Zui Xian Peak. Specializing in alcohol.

You might be wondering how it is that a person can ascend to peak lord status on alcohol alone, but anyone who had ever partied with Liao Qinglan back in the day wouldn't dare. She knows how to hold her liquor. Can really put it away. Will trounce your ass at literally any drinking game, just come and try it.

And then, of course, they all ascended, and suddenly the other peak lords were so busy being all prim and proper that they forget about the person who literally ascended with them from the force of their partying together. They're pretty much all on her shit list, if she's being honest.

Well. Not everyone. Shang Qinghua is fine. He comes by every couple of months to get rip roaring drunk and then cry on Liao Qinglan's table, and that's not too bad. Certainly isn't a change from how he always used to behave. Pretty much the only change she's seen in him since they first met is the increase in workload and, subsequently, the volume of tears he can produce when three sheets to the wind.

Shen Qingqiu was as stuck-up and reserved as ever, but he never really talked to her in the first place, certainly never went out drinking with them. So, you know, he was fine. Didn't drop her when he achieved notoriety because he never really picked her up in the first place. Can't be too pissed off about something like that. Then, in the last decade or so, after the huge change in personality (Liao Qinglan is still betting on possession, fuck what the relics and artifacts all said), he mostly just smiles vaguely when he notices she's there. Harmless and inoffensive and unremarkable. She's pretty sure he doesn't know her name.

And, you know, Huang Qinghao. Fuckhead of all fuckheads. The stuck-up asshole who has never had a drink in his fucking life, certainly never went out partying with them. Where Shen Qingqiu has always been a distant and vaguely superior presence, Huang Qinghao has always been the vocally judgemental and holier-than-thou dick who Liao Qinglan kind of wants to push off the mountain. Over on his all-male, ascetic peak. Sure, fine, to each their own, fucking enjoy it. But don't come over to Liao Qinglan's peak to give her another fucking lecture on why everything that she has built her peak on is stupid. Just because he's sworn to be a lonely and boring stick in the mud for the rest of his life doesn't mean everyone has to.

She's complaining. Again. It's fine. Shang-shishu is drunk as a skunk and definitely not processing anything she's saying. There's no one else around to overhear, because she always clears them out before he gets drunk like this. Says a whole lot of shit that might freak out the other peak members. Better to keep this kind of thing just between them.

Liao Qinglan has a few working theories. She isn't dedicating any particular effort to investigating or anything, but she toys with them now and then, notices when something happens that adds more evidence to one column than the other.

Theory One is that Shang Qinghua has fully and completely lost his mind. He's living in a daze or lost in some memory of a past life or something else equally disorienting, and it's making him think he designed this world. Sure. He seems to be managing the finances fine and hasn't died yet. If this is what that does to a man, then she's just glad An Ding was never for her.

Theory Two is that Shang Qinghua is actually a fucking god. Like, fell from the heavens, currently walking among them, had a hand in the creation of the world kind of god. Which, obviously, is completely stupid and impossible. He's literally laying on her table right now and drooling while he tries to work out the very complicated technique behind taking a drink while keeping your head flat on a horizontal surface. That's barely even advanced disciple shit.

So, of course, it's impossible and ridiculous. Still, though, she's been around him drunk more than probably anyone else in his entire life. People say things, when they're drunk. And, you know, while those things are almost always ridiculous and dramatic and overblown, they're also often true. Rarely the whole truth. It's all base emotion and instinct. The things you don't say on a day-to-day basis because some other part of you is blocking it. Whether that's common sense, shame, manners, morals, or some horrifying combination thereof. That's a part of people too. It's not like the things people say when they're drunk are the whole truth. There are other parts of them that matter as well and are also true and are the reason they haven't said this before.

But it's really, really rare. Rare, like, the peak leader of Zui Xian Peak has never seen it happen, for someone to get drunk and then start just spouting off reckless lies without any kind of truth behind them.

If Shang Qinghua is here, drunk at her table every few months, murmuring about the fact that he should have designed the world in a different way, well. That's something that someone as smart as Liao Qinglan has learned to pay attention to. Besides, she didn't get to the point of Theory Two just because he likes to talk like he's a god. If that were true, she would probably think he just has some kind of heart demon that's twisting his perception of reality. But, beyond mumbling about design choices for the world, Shang Qinghua has an uncanny ability to mention future events, that he couldn't possibly know about, that come true. He has a tendency to casually throw out very secret and personal details about people that they never would have told him but that also turn out to be true.

Like she said, Liao Qinglan isn't the type of person to go digging into mysteries like this. She's found that things in this world mostly unfold in the most dramatic way they possibly can but have the good-nature to ignore her peak and her disciples. Zui Xian Peak tends to mostly sit back, watch it happen, and make drinking games out of the events. Nothing she does either way has much of an impact, so it's more about just keeping her head down and keeping her peak safe.

Some people might think it's shameful. Huang Qinghao certainly makes it clear that he thinks so. But he's been slamming his tightass head against the solid wall of the higher peaks' indifference for literal years and has made exactly no progress. It's kind of pathetic to watch. He can feel as superior as he wants, over there on his all-male peak where Liao Qinglan assumes they sit around telling each other what a good job they're doing and punishing anything that even looks a little bit like pleasure, every hour of the day.

Liao Qinglan provides a service, here. Sure, night hunts and Qian Cao Peak's Dragon-Bone Cantaloupe seeds help bring in a lot of the income that the sect relies on. But that's all external stuff.

Liao Qinglan has been in charge of the alcohol peak for long enough that she knows the truth of things. Cang Qiong Mountain Sect is enormous, practically a small town unto itself, between all the peaks. There are a lot of people who need to live in the same space, endure incredibly physical training, experience upsetting things.

They may not be the source of income for the peak, but Zui Xian Peak is the thing that keeps all the members of the sect able to talk to each other. They keep conversations calm and civil, provide a break from all the work, set a framework for socializing.

What Liao Qinglan knows, and Shang Qinghua knows, and no one else on this entire mountain range seems to know, is that this whole place would collapse without the work that they do. So, you know, every now and then, when it all gets to be a little too much, she and Shang Qinghua meet up and get absolutely wasted and complain about what it's like to be the two most underappreciated and easily-forgotten of all the peak lords.

Which, of course, brings her right back to this little tableau.

"Shang-shixiong," she calls, laying her head on her arms, so that they're both looking at each other, sideways on the table. "I have a question for you. How do you think this is going for you?" Even as she asks the question, Shang Qinghua tries to tip his cup into his mouth and ends up dribbling onto the table and his chin in a way that is definitely going to drip down onto his robes. Liao Qinglan isn't even sure that he managed to get any of it in his mouth.

Because she's always been competitive and a little bit petty, and because this is her best buddy Shang Qinghua, which means he's her most frequent victim, she reaches for her own cup and tips it gracefully into her sideways mouth. Advanced techniques. Like she was saying.

"Your elder sect brother thinks that you haven't been doing your part to drink this wine." He pushes the jar in her direction, and Liao Qinglan is more than happy to refill her cup. He's not wrong. They've been drinking the same amount, but her tolerance is much higher than her dear Shang-shixiong. It's going to take some work to meet him where he's at.

"As my Shang-shixiong says," she demurs, then reaches out to take a hold of the jar, raises it in his direction, and knocks it back.

There's another jar beside the table.

They're just getting started tonight.

*~*~*

After that lovely night, it's an unusually long time before they have the chance to visit again. Shen Qingqiu, who was always kind of distant and tragic after the loss of his most treasured disciple, just recently died in some dramatic self-destruction. Right in front of the disciple that was, supposedly, dead all this time. Which sounds like a whole lot of drama that Liao Qinglan knows literally nothing about and will probably never get answers to. The way that they do things in this sect, though, with not appointing another peak lord until everyone is ready, means that Shang Qinghua probably just had to take on a bunch more work to adjust. She's waiting to offer a warm smile and listening ear, when he finally finishes figuring out just who will be in charge of what, but that's going to take a long time and they both know it.

Until then, she supposes she should focus on her own disciples.

Yan Yazhu is her head disciple, and she knows better than to think for even a second that the place would survive without her. Sure, Liao Qinglan's got the whole charismatic-leader and maintaining-relationships-with-other-peak-lords thing down. And she generally has some pretty spectacular ideas about how to make everything run even better than it was already, but that's, sadly, not all that it takes to run a place like this.

Sure, you can have all these fabulous ideas, and even start them up, but a lot of time they require ongoing and consistent daily check-ins, after that, and the minutiae of things like that is not at all where she tends to shine. So, when she picked her head disciple, she picked her carefully.

"It's been a while since our friend Shang-shishu came around for a visit. Who else is supposed to be sympathizing with me about all of this work we have to do?" Yan Yazhu sits upright at the same desk that her peak lord is currently slumped across, because she's also one of the most proper and polite people on the entire peak. Sure, Yan Yazhu can cut loose with the best of them when it's time, but she tends to enjoy things like gently plucking out the notes of flavoring in an expensive liquor, and sipping slowly, rather than getting involved in some of the proper games that younger disciples on the peak like to make.

"You could always come and complain to the cruel peak lord who assigned you so much work," Liao Qinglan drawls, because this is how this conversation always goes.

"Ah, but how could this lowly one dare to do such a thing, when surely her peak lord has assigned so much work in order to better manage her own, much larger workload?"

"Yes, yes, the head disciple of Zui Xian Peak is humble and devoted." Liao Qinglan nods sarcastically in Yan Yazhu's direction and she grins the same smile that she does every single time they have this conversation. Liao Qinglan has tried to delegate the head disciple's workload before. Yan Yazhu ends up claiming that no one else is handling it correctly and taking it all back anyway. Liao Qinglan has also tried to do more of her own tasks. Yan Yazhu doesn't tell her that she's doing them wrong, but she does follow along behind her and redo all of it anyway. So, for now, she lets it be. "This Peak Lord will have to drag Shang Qinghua back to this peak by his ear if he does not come back to visit soon."

Yan Yazhu grins and waves her out of the room before she can distract her further.

Liao Qinglan takes a leisurely stroll across her peak. It was so thoughtful of the sect to claim these twelve lovely mountains for themselves. Sure, the scenery and environment are perfect for meditation and cultivation and all that. More importantly, though, the view kicks ass, and it makes for a lovely backdrop to all sorts of activities, no matter the time of day.

There are disciples training in one of the fields, since it is late in the afternoon. She watches as some of the older disciples guide the younger in slow drills. Some focus on combat, but most of the efforts are focused toward learning how to properly circulate qi through the body. A good way to burn off alcohol as you drink it. A good way to stave off a hangover. A very good way to recover from a hangover, should you forget to do any of this in the middle of all the fun.

There are disciples napping in the sun, just beyond the training fields, draped in the dappled shade from some of the trees. Some of them might be sleeping off a long night. Others may simply be joining their friends in a lazy way to pass the time. Liao Qinglan lets them be, either way.

Deeper into the peak, and there are a few of the elders sitting in a hot spring. A cup floats between them. When it drifts within reach of someone, from the natural current, they raise it to their lips, drink, and then utter a line of poetry. The cup goes back to floating toward the next person, who will have to drink and then add a line to the verse. Liao Qinglan knows that, when the other players judge a line to be insufficient, someone will have to drink the entirety of the cup and go to refill it. She also knows that, after playing games like this for as many years as they have, that will rarely happen. They can keep this kind of lazy game up for shichen without tiring.

Other members of the peak, crouching together before barrels of liquor as they debate over tastes and notes and distilling techniques. A visit to the class where some of her most precise and attentive students are teaching others the art of drinking and appreciating a fine rice wine. Checking in for just a moment on the juniors who are only just about to reach full adulthood, pretending not to notice as they hide the disastrous and far-reaching impacts of the newest drinking game they have tried to invent.

It's a mess, and it's silly, and it's her favorite place in the whole fucking world. Liao Qinglan still wonders, sometimes, what possessed Cang Qiong Mountain Sect to have a peak like this. She suspects it was simply a group of twelve friends, there at the beginning, and they let everyone do what they wanted and went back and made it sound mysterious and important later. That's her favorite theory, and so it's the one she chooses to believe.

No other sects have anything close to this. They take themselves so seriously, focus on meditation and fighting and ridding the world of evil. That's good and all, but is that really all that they want to focus on, throughout their whole life?

Liao Qinglan's cultivation is legendary in its fine technique. She can take effortless control over her own body. There's always been a bit more trouble, though, when it comes to pushing it outside of herself, in a fight or with some kind of seal or talisman.

So, maybe she's not out ridding the world of evil. But she likes to think, sometimes, that she's putting a little bit more peace and comfort into it. And that's always been enough for her. The world is chaotic, and the struggle for power is endless. She isn't strong enough to go out and make anyone stop what they're doing, but she guards a peak in the shadow of the strongest cultivation sect. They are secure, protected, and forgettable. The trials and tribulations of the world may lap against the edges of the sect, but they rarely ever touch Zui Xian Peak. There's something good there, for the disciples that live here.

Maybe she keeps an eye out, when the kids are out there in the dirt, digging their little holes. Everyone else watches eagerly for the ones that are particularly strong, particularly determined, particularly strategic. Liao Qinglan tends to focus on finding the ones that seem frantic, desperate. The ones with arms a little too thin, or marked up with more than just dirt.

It's not everything. She can't offer them strength or notoriety or the ability to fight back. She can build the kind of peak where people like that can come and rest in the sunlight all day, learn to take care of their own bodies, and pass the time away with games.

It's nice, to see them working to perfect the taste of alcohol. To watch them teach each other the ways and methods they have for preparing such things. It's even nicer to see them lazing together in the sun.

So. It's nice. It's a good time. She likes it. Fuck off, why is anyone interrogating her about this shit anyway? Liao Qinglan can be whatever kind of peak lord she wants to be and she doesn't have to explain herself to anyone. That's one of the many great things about being a peak lord in the first place.

Shut up.

*~*~*

"You know, I really should turn you in. You're not supposed to be here." She's teasing, a little, with her tone, but only because she doesn't know how else to talk about something like this, with her oldest friend. With someone she could genuinely get in trouble for seeing. With Shang-shixiong.

"You wouldn't do that to poor, little old me, would you?" Shang Qinghua slumps across her table again, a perfect mirror of his previous positions from every other time they've done this, even though he's defected from the sect and run away to join up with the demons and shouldn't have been able to get through the wards in the first place.

"You shouldn't be able to even get onto the mountain." She wants to send him away again. She wants to be the kind of person who holds the line and cuts him off, after it was revealed that he had betrayed the sect to the demon realm. She wishes that was all that it took for her stupid, soft little heart to leave behind all the years of shared friendship.

"No one else knows how to go through the process of banishing someone from the mountain except for An Ding Peak, and they still keep reaching out to me to help make sense of my notes and shit." Shang Qinghua throws back the wine in his cup. Liao Qinglan doesn't refill it. When it becomes clear that she's not going to do that, Shang Qinghua sits up and focuses a little bit more. Maybe the break in their routine is making it clear enough that she's certainly not happy with him. Maybe they won't have to talk about feelings at all, and he can just leave, and then she doesn't have to learn that she's not the kind of person capable of sending him away.

"You know, my Yan Yazhu is ending up with more work, now that you're not here to take it on. She already works hard enough." Liao Qinglan is holding onto the parts of this that are easy to be angry about. That make more sense. She doesn't know how to make the version of Shang Qinghua that has fallen into drunken sleep on the floor of her home make sense alongside the version that apparently colluded with demons to plan the massacre at the Immortal Alliance Conference.

She doesn't know how to make those two things make sense. She is maybe hoping that this evening will help with that. It's almost definitely a wasted effort.

Still. She reaches out, grabs the jar of wine, refills his cup. Hers is still full. She hasn't even touched it.

"It's not my fault I was banished! Besides, if the sect wanted to be able to carry on without me, then they shouldn't have made me the one in charge of literally every single thing." He drinks from the cup. Shang Qinghua has been sloppy in his movements and whiny for the past hour, but she is suddenly aware of the focus of his gaze. He is not nearly as drunk as he has been behaving. It's a trick she's pulled on people before. She doesn't particularly care to have it reversed on her now.

"I would argue that there is no one else we could blame for your defection. If you didn't want to be pressured into leaving the sect, perhaps you should have pondered that prior to causing the death of hundreds of children."

Shang Qinghua flinches at the unsheathed steel in her voice. If he hasn't been able to talk to anyone in the Human Realm, other than his own disciples begging for his help, then she might be the only person who has taken the time to address this with him. Or, maybe no one else has tried to do this because they know better than to think it will make any difference. Maybe she should listen to their wisdom.

"Ah, well, I could see how you would say that, yes. I definitely could see why it would look like all of this was my fault. And why you would blame me for, you know, all the things that...happened."

"The child murders." She refuses to let him run away from this. If she is going to let him sit at her table, if she is going to be the kind of person who cannot send him away, then he is going to explain himself. She needs an explanation for the fact that she still sees him as a friend.

"Yes, ah, the child, ha, the child murders." She lets the laugh slide, because Shang Qinghua has always been the sort of man to laugh when he is feeling uncomfortable. It still pisses her off, though.

"So. You're seated at my table. You're drinking my wine. Are you going to offer any kind of defense or explanation for yourself?"

He looks a little cornered, a little frantic. She watches his eyes dart around the corners of the room, stare off into the distance for a bit. Maybe he's swept up in the memories of it all, feeling guilty. Maybe that's her soft heart again, and he's just putting on a show to manipulate her. Before she can get an answer, he starts to shift like he's getting up.

"Ah, I can see that Liao-shimei is upset. Rightfully so, rightfully so. Maybe it wasn't the best idea, for us to try and meet up for drinks like this. I'll see myself out. Don't worry, don't worry. I won't be seen by anyone else on the peak."

He's got a jade token in his hand, carved with a sigil she is unfamiliar with. It strikes her, suddenly, that this is likely an artifact of the Demon Realm. It strikes her, suddenly, that he is so casual with such a thing because it is familiar and rote to him. It strikes her, suddenly, that she does not know much about her friend at all.

Still. This is her friend. She wants to cast him away, but she cannot just yet. When he moves toward the door, she rises to her feet and steps in his path. They pause there, staring at each other, neither of them as drunk as they have been pretending to be. Neither of them drunk at all, really.

"Sit back down, Shang-shixiong." He sits, unable to avoid following the command in her voice, even though he outranks her. Outranked her. It doesn't matter. He sits. "You are seated at my table. You are drinking my wine. For many years, I have considered you a friend." She meets his eyes, raises her cup, takes a long drink for the first time since he walked through her door. "Show that friendship the respect that it deserves. Explain this to me."

She is not pleading. She is ordering him. It's the sort of thing he usually folds beneath like a golden foil palace. This time, he acquiesces, but his eyes are still and clear while he takes a drink himself.

"Our friendship is important to me. I will not be able to explain the Immortal Alliance Conference in enough detail to set your mind at ease."

"Shang-shixiong has yet to explain the Immortal Alliance Conference at all. Perhaps he should try before he determines what would be enough for this peak lord." She can't believe this happened. Her friend betrayed their sect and then succeeded in hiding that for years, while she was still meeting with him for drinks and gossiping with him late into the night. It's been years that they've been doing this. At least seven, since everything happened at the IAC. How is she meant to reconcile that?

There is something strained and tense held in the air between them. This is not what their friendship looks like. Liao Qinglan will cry about this, later, if it remains like this all through their evening. This will be enough to make her stay up the rest of the night, weeping alone in her room, as she almost never does. But it is not her job to fix it. She is not the one who broke it.

"Ah, yes." He takes another drink of his wine and she stares at him unceasingly, feeling rather like a snake watching a mouse, quivering in the grass before her. She does not like feeling like this. She reminds herself that it is necessary. "Well, there is very little that this humble one can say." She bares her teeth at that, tired of him pretending to be helpless, tired of the equivocation, and he flinches at the face she is making. "This humble one knows that his actions are unforgivable. He cannot explain why it was necessary for the Demon Realm to attack at the Immortal Alliance Conference. Would Liao Qinglan accept the explanation that this was what fate decreed was necessary?"

He is cringing underneath the insufficiency of his words, and Liao Qinglan is sick to see it. The decree of fate, as if that would be enough to explain the death of so many Cang Qiong Mountain Sect disciples. So many Huan Hua disciples. Zhao Hua Monastery and Tian Yi Overlook.

And yet, despite it all, she cannot help but look closer at her dear friend. He looks shifty and suspicious, knowing that his words are not enough to explain his actions, just as he said they would not be. Beneath that, though, he looks sad. He looks resigned. As if he has already accepted that there is nothing he can say to convince her.

She cannot help but think again about Theory One and Theory Two. Fully lost his mind or a fucking god. It was funny, to think about, for all those years while they were building a friendship and nothing was serious and no one's life was at stake. Back when it didn't really matter one way or another, because he was doing his job just fine and it was more of a fun thought experiment than something that she actually wanted or needed to solve.

And then, the Immortal Alliance Conference.

And then, the death of hundreds of children and young disciples.

And then, defecting from the sect.

Now, her friend is sitting before her. He didn't even have to sneak back onto the mountain, because no one knows how to stop him from coming and going. He is telling her that this was fated, and already looks like he is preparing to lose her over that explanation.

Maybe he should lose her over that explanation. It's not enough. Of course it's not enough. There would never be something that could justify actions leading to this kind of atrocity.

Fully lost his mind or a fucking god. Sitting before her and saying that it was necessary. If this is all part of some great delusion, pushing him to do this because he thought it was right, then he has the potential to be someone very dangerous. If he is a god, and he knows this was right, then he absolutely is someone very dangerous. In either situation, he should not be sitting at her table.

So, what, is she meant to kick him out? Send him back to the Demon Realm, so that he can live among demons and never interact with another human again, except when his own disciples reach out to him for help? In what way will that help to prevent him from hurting anyone else again? In what way could any of her actions prevent him from doing something like this again?

Perhaps she should not allow him back on her peak. It is a space that she has built to be calm and safe and unremarkable. A place to protect the members of her peak. If there is someone dangerous and unpredictable, perhaps she should prevent him from ever setting foot here, for all the danger he brings with him.

But to what end? So that he could wander alone, only talking to those who might agree with his actions? And, if she starts removing anyone who could potentially be a threat to her peak, where does that stop? Does she throw off her own disciples, when they are teenagers and angry at the world and lashing out at everyone?

"I want more of an explanation than that. I want to know why you think fate required you to do such a thing. I want to know if you will ever do something like that again."

He is shrinking down smaller and smaller with each word, cringing in on himself. He glances again at the corners of the room, the door out of her home, vaguely into the middle distance. When he looks back at her, finally, Shang Qinghua's eyes are cold and distant. His voice is a dead thing.

"I cannot answer why I did what I did. I cannot tell you how I knew what fate required. I can tell you that I have no intention of doing such a thing again."

"And, if Fate were to suddenly make such a demand again? Would you take such an action then?"

It's his turn to grimace and hang his head, an answer unto itself.

"Would you be able to tell me, warn me, if Fate were to make such a demand of you again?" At least this, maybe this much, and then she would be able to set her mind at ease. Feel like she isn't betraying the whole of her sect due to her soft heart.

He hunches in even further, so small now that she can barely see him over the low rise of the table. That is an answer. That is a perfectly clear answer, and she should throw him off the peak right now, before her heart has any more of an opportunity to argue with her.

"Do you regret it?" She cannot help it. The words are stone cold, but they come from a desperate place and they both know it.

"How could this one even deserve to regret something like that, when it changes nothing of the actions he took?" He still won't look at her, but he's speaking now, and the words are drenched in distance and emptiness. Cold. His words are a windswept tundra. This is not how her friend speaks.

"That is not an answer. Do you regret it?" Her voice is hardening, the fury boiling up within her, that he will not give her anything at all to hold onto and justify the fondness that still lives within her.

"It is the only answer that I can give."

And that is not enough. She slams her palm against the table, frantic, breath heaving through her like the flame of a dragon. Her sword is in her hand and she is across the room, holding its point to his throat. She is not an incredibly strong cultivator, but she is stronger than him, and they both know it. They have dueled a few times, when they were both still disciples, and then as a game when they were older. Shang Qinghua has reached again for that token around his waist, but he has not done anything with it. He is watching her, calm and steady, waiting to see what she will do next.

"Shang Qinghua, banished peak lord of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, do you regret the actions you took, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of disciples across the jianghu?"

She wants to see him break. She wants him to cry and fall into a kowtow, apologizing and begging her to forgive him. His eyes, when he finally responds, are flat, dead things.

"Of course this one regrets. What would that matter to the disciples lost? What would that matter to their families, their friends, their sect? It is the action this one took, and there is nothing this one can do to bring them back, and so what would anyone care about whether or not this one regrets?"

Is that enough? It shouldn't be. It really, really shouldn't be enough to justify his return into her regard. It certainly has not erased all that he has done. But, in all of this, what would be gained by casting him out now? What could she do to punish him that has not already been done by his sect? That he has not already done to himself? To leave him alone now, how would that accomplish anything other than to put more pain into the world?

Many would say that she is wrong to do this. Many would disagree with her actions, and perhaps they would be right to do so. But she has spent so many nights with this man, and they are friends, and he has done something horrible. She wishes that would wipe away all the good that exists between them, but it doesn't and it won't. Not when a friend of hers looks like that. Not when he is sitting calmly and dully at the end of her blade, waiting for her to decide his fate.

"Leave my home," she bites out, because she cannot look at either of them, knowing the choice that she is about to make. She needs some time alone, some space from him, to make sure that this really is the decision that she's going to make. (She knows herself, though. She knows what she is thinking and feeling. She will take him back as a friend, and she needs some time to come to terms with this fact. Come to terms with the fact that she has just learned what kind of person she is, and she's not proud of it.)

He stands without argument, drawing back from her naked blade and moving toward the door again. He makes it only a step before she reaches out to take his arm.

"I will expect you back in a month. Just because you are living in the Demon Realm now does not mean you can neglect your friendships here in the Human Realm. If it's so simple for you to enter this sect, then there is nothing preventing you from continuing our meetings."

She watches the words hit him, a physical force in his eyes. Shock, then confusion, then a creeping hope and wonder. What does it mean, what does it mean about her, that she is happy to see something like that? Is she willing to accept this about herself? What else is there to do, now that she knows it?

"This one will return." The words are faltering. They both pretend not to notice.

"See that you do. And next time, maybe you could bring some wine with you. I have heard about the spirits of the Demon Realm, but no one has ever been willing to retrieve such a thing for me."

He stares at her for a moment longer, nods once.

He steps through the door. By the time she moves to the window to watch him walk away, he is gone.

*~*~*

"You shouldn't have him around. It's not safe," Yan Yazhu scolds when she comes in the next morning, tiding up the room even though that very much is not her job.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Liao Qinglan replies, because she's the peak lord and also because she doesn't want to talk about any of this until she has had at least another week to ruminate on it. Late at night. Without anyone else's input, thank you very much.

"I know what it looks like when Shang-shishu has been to visit." The tone is chiding and frustrated, because this is the dynamic they have made for themselves after decades of shared leadership. Yan Yazhu is trying to lean on their trust in each other to get more of the answers that she wants. Too bad. She is underestimating Liao Qinglan's ability to avoid thinking about things.

"This peak lord does not know why her head disciple would be so daring as to imply that this peak lord is violating the banishment of that traitor Shang Qinghua."

Yan Yazhu, who had been stooped to pick up another empty jar of wine off the ground (something Liao Qinglan may have drunk all by herself after Shang Qinghua left), straightens up. She stares, dead-eyed, at her peak lord for a long moment. Liao Qinglan tilts her head innocently back. Yan Yazhu quirks an eyebrow. Liao Qinglan smiles winningly.

"Okay," Yan Yazhu says. The doubt on her face smooths into the perfect expression of a filial disciple. She smiles the same sort of smile Liao Qinglan has seen her give to members of other peaks when they suddenly remember that Zui Xian Peak exists, just in time to come and acquire the alcohol they'll be needing for this or that ceremony.

"Great."

"Then, Peak Lord Liao, this humble disciple would like to discuss the plans for the upcoming ascension celebration."

What a good head disciple. That's more like it. The ascension celebration. The annual commemoration of when this generation of peak lords stepped into their positions.

"Sect Leader will be wanting his mulberry wine," Liao Qinglan ponders. Yan Yazhu wrinkles her nose and she cannot help but sympathize. "How are we stocked in that?"

"The batch from several years ago should still be available and prepared. It is not as though anyone else in the sect will be drinking it."

Their poor sect leader and his poor, terrible taste in alcohol. What a shame, what a shame. Yan Yazhu and Liao Qinglan spend the rest of the day talking through the annual plan to pretend as though everyone is drinking the same wine while working to provide a much more palatable option to everyone else at the banquet.

Here. She's competent at this. It's all fine.

It's going to be fine.

*~*~*

The next time she sees Shang Qinghua, it's been exactly one month. She is fairly sure that he counted down the days. She is only able to make that kind of guess because she definitely counted down the days, and so she can't bring it up at all, because then that would show what she had done.

Okay. Maybe the point of this is that she's trying to repair the relationship and everything. Maybe it would be helpful for him to know that she was eager to see him again, worried that he wouldn't come back. Too fucking bad, though. If he wanted her that open and vulnerable, then he shouldn't have betrayed the peak in the first place.

It takes a while. A long while. That first visit, they end up sitting mostly in silence. They keep trying to start the conversation up again, complaining about their days and the kind of people they have to put up with, but the rhythm's all off, and they keep getting distracted by thoughts in their own heads, so that they're missing the natural flow of when it would be their turn to talk again. Liao Qinglan is a sharp, vicious thing at times, and she wishes that weren't the case but she doesn't know how to make herself stop. Shang Qinghua is cringing and anxious, sweating and laughing too loudly at jokes that aren't funny. It's terrible. She wishes it weren't like this at all.

He brought some of the most expensive wine available in the Demon Realm. It's delicious, made from wolfberries grown in the Human Realm but fermented with methods that are legendarily secret to the one particular family that makes it. It's light and delicate on the tongue and burns like a song down the throat. She would normally spend hours talking about the finer details of it with Shang Qinghua. He might not have been brought up on Zui Xian Peak, but after all their evenings together, he is more than able to keep up in a conversation about wine.

It's even worse, then, that they're just sitting here, drinking the best wine she's ever tasted, and they're not even talking about it. They're not talking about anything. Nothing that matters, anyway. Or, maybe, too much that matters and not enough that feels like the way that they have always talked in the past. Whatever it is, it's awful, and it's turning this beautiful wine into tar in her mouth, and she wants nothing more than to crawl out of his skin and fly away from all the vulnerability and discomfort of this.

They sit and drink until morning, then both go their separate ways to sleep it off.

She wakes up without any of the effects of a hangover, and by then she's furious.

*~*~*

"We haven't even thought about other kinds of fruit wine that we could have at the Ascension Celebration."

"Right," Yan Yazhu drawls in a way that she clearly stole from Liao Qinglan. They are walking through the peak together, today, even though there are never really any emergencies on Zui Xian Peak that would require the presence of both the peak lord and the head disciple. There's never really any emergencies at all. That's kind of the whole point. "Because we both agree that the peak lords are much more willing to accept a rice wine and that fruit wine is rarely worth the effort it takes to prepare."

"Of course," Liao Qinglan replies absently, still thinking about the delicious way that the demonic wolfberry wine had sat on her tongue and left no after-effects. "Unless, of course, we've been neglecting fruit wine because of that and haven't actually figured out the way to prepare it correctly."

Thinking about it, this is a glaring oversight on Liao Qinglan's part. Who knew that it was possible for any fruit wine to be so delicious? Especially for it to leave no hangover or negative effects the next day? But, then, who else on this earth should have known, if not the peak lord of Zui Xian Peak herself?

Yan Yazhu is staring at her questioningly, as though she has just opened her mouth and let out a donkey's bray instead of words, but Liao Qinglan barely notices it. She's distracted, too busy running over the exact taste and notes that she detected in that demonic wine. It's hard to remember, because everything was tainted by how stiff and awkward the conversation was. She was too busy tasting the stilted air to notice what she could detect of the specific flavor profile and techniques used.

They continue their walk through the peak, resting for a while in the sun with those who are circulating their qi and napping. They check in on the little junior disciples, which is one of Liao Qinglan's favorite parts of her job. They aren't allowed to be drinking much yet, but that doesn't mean that it's too early to begin developing a discerning palate. The juniors spend much of their morning cultivating and learning various techniques for the circulation of qi, and then much of the afternoon cooking and tasting and working on developing the ability to channel their qi to their mouth. Tasting at a level most people could never dream of.

It's important, when you're working on creating new drinks. Just because a normal person, or even another cultivator, might not be aware of the nuance, it doesn't mean that it won't influence their experience of the drink. Even if they can't put their finger on what it is that they like, the Zui Xian Peak disciples should be able to take account for every note of flavor in something they produced.

It's fun, to sit with the juniors and talk through every detail of what they are tasting in the food and drink that they're eating. It's fun, to watch them start to find the perfect words to describe things, even if it means making up new words or metaphors. It's fun, to show off a little when she takes a turn at their little tasting game.

Best of all, it's easier to focus on something like this than all that nonsense going on with some big-shot traitor out doing who-knows-what.

*~*~*

The month after that, Shang Qinghua comes to visit again. It's still stilted, and it's still awkward, but it's a little bit easier, because at least this time they both knew what to mentally prepare for. Also, he brings more of the wine, and Liao Qinglan sets one of the jars aside without providing anything close to an explanation for her actions. Shang Qinghua, wisely, stays silent and allows her to do as she will.

*~*~*

"Yan Yazhu, did you know that we have an entire section of the peak that is set aside for making fruit wine that we've been neglecting?" She is slumped across the cluttered desk of her head disciple, because this is the proper pose for bothering one's head disciple.

"I believe that we have a section dedicated to fruit wine that you have been neglecting. If I'm not mistaken, some of the older peak members have been teaching a few of the previous class of juniors about how to use it. They gather there every few nights for a club that they think is secret." Yan Yazhu sits at her desk and casually ticks off another number on her incredibly comprehensive rota. She's a little bit terrifying, the kind of head disciple who can keep track of the schedule of every other member of the peak while also keeping up to date on secret goings-on. Every few weeks or so Liao Qinglan lets herself get smug all over again at how clever it was to pick this one for this position.

"Right, well, that's only because fruit wine is a waste of time compared to the other kinds of alcohol we could be making." The words jump to her tongue with the practice of the thousands of times she's said it before.

"As you have said before. Repeatedly," Yan Yazhu says dryly. "Which, again, might make someone wonder why it is you are suddenly speaking of it so much."

"Just because something doesn't taste good doesn't mean that it's a reasonable excuse to ignore it! How can we call ourselves Zui Xian Peak if we are neglecting such an enormous sector of alcohol production?"

"An inspired question, Peak Lord Liao." Yan Yazhu isn't even looking at her anymore. Might not even be listening. "Truly, your wisdom is endless."

"When did you say that secret club was meeting, again?"

"Every three days, with their next meeting tomorrow evening, shizun."

"Ah, good, good. I knew there was a reason I keep you around, Yan Yazhu."

Without looking up from her rota, Yan Yazhu throws an ink stone in her direction. It misses, because she wasn't looking. Liao Qinglan yelps like it hit her anyway, and she bustles herself out of that room to go find a place where she is more appreciated and respected.

*~*~*

Don't get it confused. Liao Qinglan's whole life does not consist of staying up late in the night and engaging in drunken gossip with an old friend! Just because she's been spending most of her time thinking about Shang Qinghua, recently, doesn't mean that she doesn't have a whole lot going on. She's a very important peak lord for the most prestigious cultivation sect in the jianghu!

No, she also stays up late in the night to engage in secret preparation of fruit wines! See? There are layers here. She's a complicated person.

She does eventually make it over to the part of the mountain that was set aside for fruit wine. She's known it was there since she was a very young disciple, and she did her lessons on fruit wine when they were required of her. She's been here before. It's just been a while.

Pretty much as soon as she had enough power to make such decisions, Liao Qinglan left the fruit wine life behind. She hasn't missed it for even a moment. The rest of the peak, following the example of their dazzling and charismatic peak lord, also left the practice alone. Maybe she should feel bad about all the ancient techniques that would potentially be forgotten by an entire generation of Zui Xian Peak ignoring research on fruit wines. But, well, there are certainly more than enough records, for anyone who might choose to take it back up someday! That's a central part of Zui Xian Peak! Even if every disciple tends to guard their personal recipes with the kind of possessiveness and ferocity of a dragon before its young, there are still a great many peak-wide records and references for the recipes everyone follows.

There are records of the teachings, and there are elders who have been here since long before Liao Qinglan took control and that will remain here long after the next generation steps up. The practice of fruit wine preparation won't die. Besides, she never forbade anyone from coming here. It was merely that, again, she knew what the correct opinion was and was not afraid to share it. Once everyone else was shown the error of their ways, what could they do but sing her praises and fall in line?

Well, she supposes, the thing they could do was form a secret club and continue to do it anyway. There is evidence of their efforts all over this room. (Though, the workspace in the building remains spotless. Good. Her disciples know better than to allow any kind of rot or decay or disarray to develop in their preparation spaces.) It's all so dramatic. She wouldn't have actually stopped anyone from doing what they wanted. The elders didn't need to go this far. That said, it's a little bit cute. She kind of wants to keep letting them have their fun. Besides, it's fun to feel like you're sneaking around and conspiring. Really, she was helping her peak by giving them the opportunity to have a secret club.

This is why she's here on a night when no one else is supposed to be. She's here at this time because she wants them to keep their cute little secret. It has nothing to do with the fact that she has been ranting against fruit wine for literal years and can't stand the blow her face would take if she were suddenly spotted here in the building they have fully devoted to the preparation and fermentation of fruit wine.

Liao Qinglan, peak lord of Zui Xian Peak, would never go back on her word. She still hasn't. If it wasn't for that fucking demonic fruit wine, she wouldn't have to be here at all. It's really all Shang Qinghua's fault.

She knows what she tasted in that wine, and she's made more than enough wolfberry wine herself, over the years she's been in this sect.  Liao Qinglan knows how to work with wolfberries. She doesn't know how to make them taste like that, though. She's done everything that's done with wolfberries, even preparing the pulp and residue to be used as feed or fertilizer across the peaks. It's all part of the approach to cultivation on the peak. She's experimented. She's labored. She's done this shit before. It's unfair, that someone else figured out how to make them taste like that before she did.

Wolfberry wine usually just tastes like almost nothing at all, slides down your throat, and leaves you without a hangover. Fine, sure, but what's the point? This demonic wine, though, still had all the positive effects of a wine made with wolfberries, but had somehow turned into something that she actually wanted to drink! She needs to break down the barrier between the human and demon realms so that she can pressure the demons into telling her everything she could ever want to know about their techniques.

There was other stuff in there, of course. She could taste it. She's trained her whole life to be able to taste it. The demonic wine was, at its core, a simple wolfberry wine fermented with a base of rice and qu. There were notes of du zhong, gancao, camomile, and lilyturf. She's fairly sure she identified them all, sitting alone in her office and taking slow, meditative sips of her pilfered jug of wine while circulating her qi through her mouth.

It should be simple, to make such a fruit wine. She has all the ingredients on hand. Even the wolfberries, since they often will use them to flavor some liquors or to brew medicinal tonics for Qian Cao peak. No one in the sect will notice that she took a few baskets of the dried fruit for herself tonight.

All the minor, long-term steps of the process have already been done. That's what a lot of the juniors do, to practice their cultivation. The peak makes meditation out of all the preparatory steps: sorting through fruits and grain to pick out any detritus, bugs, leaves; grinding steamed rice down into the finest powder and mixing it with water to pack into qu; preparing the base rice wine that is used as a foundation for so many other steps in more complex processes.

It means that, tonight, it might be possible for Liao Qinglan to move through the process and start something fermenting before anyone on the peak even wakes up to see her.

She prepares the flavorings first, just as she detected the notes of them earlier. It is an automatic process to begin adding the dried ingredients to a large pot. She throws in some dried leaves and roots from the wolfberry plant as well, to allow more of the flavor to come through. It is a long, slow boil to draw out the flavors. She knows that she's not going to get the proportions quite right, not without a few more attempts and failures, but she'll never know what she needs to change until she's already fucked it up once! So, she measures with her heart and writes down what she did, boiling the ingredients until the water is a rich, dark color like over-steeped tea.

While that is boiling, she also starts the dried wolfberries to boil in another pot, so that the bright red color pops out again and the water starts to take on some of the flavor as well.

There's time to pause after that, because she needs to allow the berries, the water they're in, and the steeped flavorings to all cool. It's easy to stay calm and meditate through the long cooling process. She's actually really good at stuff like this. It's how she ended up as the peak lord here

Simple, simple. She's done this thousands of times.

It's dark in this building. She has brought a lantern with her to light the way, but it is dim so that the light does not move beyond the circle of her work space. It would ruin everything, for someone to see her light from somewhere else on the peak, come to investigate, and find their peak lord in the one place that she had sworn never to go again!

In that circle of dim light, she waits for her first few steps to cool. Liao Qinglan pours the water with the flavorings through a cloth as it cools to filter out any of the bits left over from the dried roots and flowers and leaves. Finally, when there is no difference between the temperature of the berries, the brewed ingredients, and the air around her, she mixes the two together and begins making a large, fresh batch of rice.

Calm and patient. There is so much waiting in this process, so many starts and stops. That's a large part of the beauty of it. She has something she is focusing on. It will take as long as it takes and she will patiently wait throughout that time. Liao Qinglan breathes deeply as she feels her mind empty out of any thought but this one. It has been so long since she took the time to prepare something herself. She can't remember why, but that doesn't matter at the moment. All that matters is the project before her.

The rice is done. While it is still steaming and warm, she spreads a cloth across the floor of the building, in the space cleared and cleaned for this exact purpose. The rice spills warm and steaming and cloud-like across the wide swathe of cloth.

She breaks apart the cake of qu that she has brought with her. The dried, malted rice crumbles apart under the firm pressure of her fingers and she sprinkles the resulting crumbles out over the expanse of fresh rice. Mixing the two together was always one of her favorite parts of this process. The rice is warm and giving under her hands. It is a slow, repetitive motion to knead at the ingredients until the two separate parts become one, uniform mass. The qu was mixed in at just the right temperature. She knows it was, because she has done this before.

After that, it is nothing to pull over one of the enormous, smooth wooden bowls that the junior disciples have carefully and diligently carved. Their elder sect siblings have checked over every bowl for cracks or flaws anywhere in the process, before they are distributed throughout the peak.

Into the bowl goes the base rice wine, the fresh mixture she has just created, the combination of wolfberries and brewed water. This is a different motion, a different technique, but she combines all of these in the bowl with a rhythmic kneading as well. Then, all of it into a large clay pot, enough water to rinse out any residue in the bowl and fill the pot to just the right level.

She can easily lift and carry the pot out to the place where they set such things to wait and ferment, out in a large field and marked with the name of the disciple working on whatever is inside, as well as the date it was placed there. She is a cultivator, after all. It is no effort to pick up her large pot, carry it into the woods, and creep around the outside edge of the peak so that she can come up near where they brew their baijiu. From there, she finally starts making her way toward the fermenting field. Just in case anyone sees her and tries to guess what she's been working on. They'll never be the wiser.

No one does see her. They all seem to be settled in with their friends and their games or well asleep by now. Good for them, good for them. Liao Qinglan sets down the pot, labels it under today's date and Yan Yazhu's name, and then heads back to the the woods. She slinks back around to the building set aside for the fruit wines and cleans up thoroughly after herself.

As the sun is starting to just peek over the edge of the horizon, she knows that not a soul on her peak will be awake. The building is clean and the only things left behind are the fruits stolen by the secret fruit wine club and the pots they have secretly fermenting out at the back of the building.

Now that she has gone back through the whole process all over again, Liao Qinglan can admit that there are maybe a few parts of fruit wine making that are pleasant and enjoyable. She still stands by her belief that they are more effort than the product could justify, when there are so many other fantastic alcohols that could be created in the same amount of time.

Her final project, that wolfberry wine she just dedicated her whole night to, should be ready to be tasted in just 20 days. Of course, she could leave it to clarify for six months past that, but just those 20 days should show whether the taste will be worth justifying all that extra time spent to refine it to perfection. Given the fact that nothing she did tonight was any different than things she has done in the past, she probably won't go through the effort.

She doesn't have high hopes for any of this. She has made wolfberry wine more times than she can count. Of course, some of the flavors are different this time, and the proportions have been shifted. Maybe that will miraculously be enough to change the taste into something sweet and mellow and refreshing instead of watered-down juice with a little bit of medicine hidden in it. It shouldn't be, though. It wouldn't make any sense.

There is no way to make wolfberry wine taste like that. It is impossible. The very peak lord of Zui Xian Peak cannot make it, so it cannot be done!

She will wait the 20 days. And then she will try the wine.

Hopes are not high.

*~*~*

It's a simple thing, to sneak back into the fenced-in fermentation field where they leave their clay pots to sit. The peak has never been particularly active during the night. Or, that is to say, they are much more likely to be settled in by the night and are rarely out running across the outdoor work areas of the peak. That's left for the daytime hours, while the evening is for fun, resting, spending time with friends.

Liao Qinglan is quite proud of the culture she has created for her peak. She was proud of it even before she realized that it makes it very easy for her to sneak around on secret, fruit-wine-related missions.

It's been 20 days since she left the pot to ferment and the qu to work its magic on the liquid within. When she pulls off the lid, it's to see the thick, pale gruel of the rice and wolfberries that has gathered at the top. She stirs it up a little and then wedges a close-woven reed basket into the center. The thin spaces between reeds filter out any of the larger particles in the wine and allow only the foggy wine to gather in the center.

It could still be clarified, and it will take longer than just a few minutes for the wine to separate out from all the detritus. Still, she knows what wine tastes like at this point in the process. She knows how to taste for the flavor it will develop into.

She uses a small hand bowl to scoop out some of that clouded liquid in the center of the basket. It is dark. There is no one around to see that she is doing this.

A small sip, swirled in the bowl before it is raised to her lips. The wine sits light on her tongue. There are hints of wolfberry, the rice wine base. She can tell that there is camomile, du zhong, gancao, and lilyturf. Just like she could taste in the demonic wine that Shang Qinghua brought.

The notes and flavors are all there. It should be the same as the wine that her friend brought. If anyone in the world should be capable of recreating a wine, after having tasted it multiple times, it should be the peak lord of Zui Xian. In fact, the wine that she prepared should be even better that whatever dreck the demon realm is making.

So why, then, does it still taste mostly of diluted, slightly medicinal rice wine?

It's exactly the same thing that she is always complaining about, when it comes to any kind of fruit wine. Sure, it tastes fine. But why bother with something like this, when there are much more flavorful versions of liquor available? Why bother with something like this, when it is so much more satisfying to pull out the subtle notes of flavor in a well-prepared batch of simple rice wine?

Fruit wine, as far as Liao Qinglan is concerned, is rather like striking yourself over the head with a bludgeoning club of flavor. There is so little subtlety or nuance, when compared to the rich and various ways that one can bring out notes of flavor in rice alone. And then, even worse, once the fruit has drowned out all the nuance, it doesn't even have the decency to stick around. It hits you in the face and then leaves you with no aftertaste at all.

This batch is boring, even for fruit wine. She has never particularly enjoyed the taste of wolfberries. It isn't a surprise that she doesn't enjoy this. As far as the actual technique behind fruit wine goes, the flavors are delicately balanced. She has never tasted something prepared better than this. She should be able to walk away from all of this with her dignity intact, having proven that she can make a perfect wolfberry wine that she doesn't have a taste for.

But, if it were so simple as that, then she wouldn't have even been in the fruit wine building in the dead of night in the first place. No, the point of this all is not that she is doubting her ability to follow the steps and her own artistic ability to create a delicate and perfectly balanced wolfberry fruit wine. Her resulting product is as high quality a wine as any that might be purchased in the human realm.

The problem, is that, somehow, that anxious disaster of her best friend has brought her a version of wolfberry wine that sits mellow and sweet on her tongue and sparks along her senses as she swallows it down. He brought her wine that tastes rich and verdant, with a scent stronger and more alluring than any fruit wine she has ever encountered before.

She is the peak lord of Zui Xian Peak, dammit, and if there is a technique to making wine that can be learned, then how could she ever let herself rest without learning of it?

She does not pour the wine out of the pot and directly onto the ground, even though she really wants to. This is the field where so many other alcohols are fermenting in their pots in the sun. It would be careless to invite pests to the sweet residue the wine would leave behind, or to risk any kind of cross-contamination to some other wine that a disciple has been perfecting for years on end.

Instead, Liao Qinglan channels all of her anger at this situation into her arms, in order to hoist the pot of fruit wine over her head and haul it back out into the woods, where she can pour it out upon the ground without feeling any kind of guilt about it.

Well, okay, maybe there is the smallest amount of guilt. Someone might have benefited from this wine. It was perfectly fine the way it was prepared, by anyone else's standard. Perhaps it would have been more logical and reasonable to keep the wine and clarify it until it could be distributed out like many of the other products on this mountain.

But, unfortunately, every export of Zui Xian Peak goes before the careful eyes and thoughtful brush of Yan Yazhu herself. As the only fruit wine currently leaving the peak is the result of the secret club and the mulberry wine they prepare specially and specifically for the sect leader every few years, there is no way she would not notice the sudden export of several small jars of wolfberry wine.

There would be questions. And Yan Yazhu has an uncanny ability to sniff out any lie or deception on the part of her peak lord. It makes things terribly inconvenient for her, if Liao Qinglan is being honest, but that's the price one must pay in order to have a competent and self-sufficient subordinate. Think of all the work she would have to be doing herself, if Yan Yazhu weren't there to do it for her.

So, the wine, mixed all together with the pulp and residue, spills out onto the forest floor, far away from where any casual wanderer might come across it. Liao Qinglan lugs the pot to a stream nearby to rinse it out until it no longer smells distinctively of wolfberries, at which point she can place it with all the other pots that need washing by the younger disciples. They like to make a game of singing and cleaning them up, and she allows them this one chance to have fun with the tasks rather than turning it into meditation. Cleaning should be fun, anyway.

She's going to think about her cute little juniors and forget all about the infuriating demonic wine that she cannot reproduce even with centuries of research and experience and wisdom on this exact topic behind her.

It's fine.

She doesn't even care.

It's literally fine.

*~*~*

Months pass. Recently, it had turned out that Shen Qingqiu wasn't actually dead and was instead running around the jianghu causing problems. This had very little to do with Liao Qinglan's life, and seems to have recently settled down a bit, but she heard the rumors.

The fifteenth month after their falling out, Shang Qinghua doesn't visit at all, even thought they've been sticking to an unspoken, very strict schedule. Liao Qinglan does not worry, because she is a peak lord with a thousand very important duties to hold her attention. If that means that she spends the entire evening sitting in her home and completing any paperwork she can find, just so that she can be present and available should anyone else arrive, that's her own business.

Well, her business and Yan Yazhu's business, since she's the one who comes through the house the next day, gathers up everything that Liao Qinglan did, shoots her a very passive-aggressive glare, and redoes all of it to her own specifications. But, well, that's what she gets for being the kind of over-controlling head disciple who won't allow anyone to help.

Maybe Liao Qinglan's in a bad mood. Maybe she didn't sleep well the night before. Who can say for sure.

When Shang Qinghua finally arrives, three nights after the time when he was scheduled (not actually scheduled, but they both fucking know that he was) to arrive, he looks harried and panicked. There are no bruises or cuts visible on his body, because such things never trouble immortal cultivators for more than a few minutes, but there is blood on his robes, bright and still fresh and blooming out from a point on his shoulder. Not the way that blood tends to look when it's coming from someone else.

Liao Qinglan hasn't been worried about his absence for days, and she certainly isn't worried about him now, so she walks at a very normal pace to greet him and ask how his day has been. She can hear the ice in her voice. She still does not know how to go about melting it, even for a friend.

Shang Qinghua accepts her worried hand-patting like he knows what it means, anyway (which, rude, how dare he), and they stand in front of each other awkwardly for just a moment before moving this whole embarrassing display of emotions indoors and over to the table. Where there are cups that can be filled with wine. If this happens to be a convenient excuse to avoid eye contact and conversation for another second, no it isn't.

"Ah, it's been a few days longer than we scheduled. This one apologizes for upsetting Liao-shimei."

"Why would I be upset?" She snaps. "We didn't have anything officially scheduled. I didn't even notice if you missed the night, like you're saying."

"Of course, of course. This one apologizes for the presumption."

They sit in silence for a little bit longer, because Shang Qinghua is the talker between the two of them, and she is not going to ask about any of his injuries when he's been so secretive about his life over in the demon realm. She doesn't actually know where the lines are anymore. It fucking sucks.

After twitching and growing more and more visibly uncomfortable, Shang Qinghua finally speaks.

"This one genuinely didn't mean to be late. There was an uprising in the North, and we've been so busy on the front lines that I lost track of days."

"You've been fighting?" She can't help the skepticism in her voice. It's not fair, maybe, but it is also valid. She and Shang Qinghua always pair up for the showy spars between peak lords, because both of them are absolutely terrible at cultivation with the sword. She knows the kind of prowess he would be bringing to the table. They both know that neither of them are built for the 'front lines.'

"Ah, no, not me, not me. I have been attending to and advising My King, as he leads the charge."

"There's blood on your robe." Her voice is as flat and hard as the oak table between them. She doesn't know how to make it softer than that. She's furious. She's so worried. She had no idea any of this was going on.

"Ah, well, yes. Not from the front lines. There was an..." he trails off, gauges her reaction to all this talk of his new life, continues, "an assassination attempt on My King. Just before this, after the fighting had mostly wound down. There were some minor members of a noble family that we deposed and they were...less than satisfied with the results of the battle." He pauses again, still so hesitant to speak in anything more than vague generalities. One of his hands has come up to rub absently against the blood stain at his shoulder.

"I fail to see how an assassination attempt against a demon king would result in your injury." Unless the king had thrown his servant in front of the blow, in which case Liao Qinglan is worried that there will be no force in the human or demon realms capable of stopping her from going on a furious rampage. Even if she would likely be killed quickly, due to the aforementioned lack of martial prowess.

"That would be because I may or may not have gotten in the way of it. My King was asleep, you see, and he hadn't rested in days. I thought it best for him if I just...took care of it." There is a flicker of darkness in his eye as he says that last bit, and maybe this is the part of him that is able to be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of children and keep on living?

None of this is painting the kind of picture that Liao Qinglan was expecting, whenever she thought about her friend's life in the Demon Realm. Which she doesn't do. None of this is full of the kind of abuse, violence, horror that she has always heard, when listening to stories about the Demon Realm before now.

Shang Qinghua, in the months that they have been repairing their friendship, has not talked about the Demon Realm. Not really at all. It's been an explosive array that they have both danced around on the floor without ever allowing themselves to touch it. They could, presumably, do that forever. It's also, probably, fairly impracticable, considering everything about her friend's current living situation.

It doesn't make any sense. Nothing is matching up with her expectations. It doesn't make sense, until she starts listening back to everything he has said so far. Particularly, the emphasis that he has been putting on the words My King.

Liao Qinglan has shared a sect with Shang Qinghua for years. She knows what it sounds like when he says their sect leader's name.

This is, Most Definitely, not the way that he says their sect leader's name.

This is something very different. Something reverent. Something soft. Something overwhelming.

And she wasn't paying close attention before, because she was too busy making sure that her friend wasn't fucking dying. But, now that that's all resolved and put away for now, she can really dive into the fact that that's not how anyone says the name of their boss.

That is, rather, the way that someone talks about someone they are desperately in love with. Someone they idolize and worship.

She is starting to get a picture of what may or may not be going on here, and it is absolutely ridiculous, and it is far beyond anything she could have ever known to prepare herself for.

"Oh," she drawls. "So it's like that, then."

Shang Qinghua's head whips up, and the cup of wine in front of him teeters on its side, almost tipping over and spilling everywhere before it spins its way back to center. Guilty, guilty, guilty. He's already completely given himself away.

"What do you mean?"

And it's against everything she expected, when her friend was heartily encouraged to leave the sect. When he ran away to live in the Demon Realm. She's always heard that demons are cold and cruel and violent. But, then again, demons are also always coming in, spouting all sorts of nonsense about cultivators. It seems that the hatred and misinformation might be going both ways. Either that, or her dear friend Shang Qinghua is more unwell than she ever considered before.

She never expected anyone might feel this kind of fondness for a demon, especially not a demon king. That said, Liao Qinglan likes to think that she is the kind of person who stands by her friends. Some might even argue that she stands by them long past the time when she should have left them behind. Those people may even be correct in that statement, but it's never stopped her before and it certainly won't stop her now.

"Tell me more about this king of yours, Shang-shixiong." He flushes underneath her knowing look, looking around all panicked again. At least, this time, it's not the kind of cornered panic of someone worried his life is in danger, or that his friend is about to throw him off the mountain or report him for crossing back over a rainbow bridge following his banishment from the head cultivation sect. She knows what that kind of panic looks like on her friend's face.

This is the much more familiar, much more damning, look of a person who has been caught out on a secret they very much hoped that no one would notice they were keeping.

Too damn bad. This is what he gets, for maintaining a friendship with the peak lord of the drinking peak, even after cutting almost all ties with the Human Realm.

Liao Qinglan reaches out and refills his cup, even though he hasn't taken a drink from it yet. A little of it spilled when it twirled earlier, and she's not really doing it for the practicality of the thing. Rather for the drama of it all. The unspoken implication.

They are going to get drunk tonight. They are going to get absolutely shit-faced and she is going to hear all about this king of Shang Qinghua's. It is her god-given right as one of the only humans that he still talks to and one of the few friends who has stuck around. This is the reward for all the effort they have put forward these past few months, rebuilding the relationships and finding all the new boundaries and limits within it.

And, miraculously, it all sort of goes to plan. Shang Qinghua talks to her about the king of the Northern Desert, his king, his Mobei-Jun. He doesn't provide details about tactical information, or the exact specifics of how they came to know each other. She can tell that he is still wary of giving her any kind of information that may be used against his precious king, but that's not what she's interested in anyway.

She wants to know what they talk about. How he makes Shang Qinghua feel. If they are together yet.

And she gets to learn all of it. One blustering, stuttering, blushing sentence at a time, she gets to hear about the story of a young disciple of the An Ding clan and the relationship that he built with the young, not-then-king of the Northern Desert in the Demon Realm.

Of course, it's not quite as simple as all that. She is a master of obtaining information from other people, and not all of that information is from what people will tell her directly. Shang Qinghua, as much as he likes to talk and ramble, isn't actually the sort to provide endless information about his life. The drink certainly helps with all that, as it always has with him, but there is also much to be inferred from the places he pauses, the information he omits, the look on his face while he's talking.

It's actually, strangely, kind of sweet. In a confusing, paradigm-shifting kind of way. Liao Qinglan would never have thought, for even a moment, that this would be something that her friend would want, but the more he talks, the more it makes sense. He's always been the type to need someone to ground him, stay calm while he sprints from one panicked task to another. She had thought, if he chose to have anyone, it would be a human, but there's really no reason it needed to be.

If this Mobei-Jun is capable of caring for Shang Qinghua in the same way that Shang Qinghua so obviously cares for him, well, then she supposes that she wishes them all the best. She just needs to take the time to make sure this demon king is treating her friend kindly.

"Are you actually his advisor, then?" She asks, because it's starting to sound like much more of a soulmates, best friends, lovers sort of situation.

"Oh, no, not officially or anything. I'm just a servant for him. A spy, for a long time," he cringes at that but they both continue on as if he hadn't said anything. "I guess, now, I'm not even that. Mostly I follow him around and do all the busywork that comes with running a kingdom that no one else wants to bother with."

And, well, that doesn't sound accurate at all. Not with the way that Shang Qinghua has been going on about his king. That can't be right.

"It doesn't seem like he's the sort of man to put up with someone if he doesn't enjoy being around them."

"Oh, god, no, not at all. You have no idea the number of times I've had to follow behind him and clean up all the messes he makes while speaking to the other members of demon royalty. My King will just say whatever he's thinking or feeling at the time and doesn't care at all about how that might impact the very delicate balance in the Demon Realm. Sometimes, if he's in a very bad mood, he'll just kill someone who frustrates him, and then I have even more work to do." He's wringing his hands, clearly still very caught up in his worry about all of this, now that he's been reminded that it exists. "Honestly, I almost never leave him alone. Can't be trusted not to go off and do something ridiculous. The nights when you and I hang out are probably the most amount of time I spend away from the court."

"Right," Liao Qinglan drawls, because she's starting to put a few clues together and it's not looking too good for poor Shang-shixiong. "So why would he spend time with you unless he was enjoying it? It sounds like you spend nearly every moment together."

The shock of the words slaps him right across the face and leaves Shang Qinghua's cheeks burning.

"What are you talking about? No, that's not. No, it's not like that. He tolerates me because I take care of all the things that he doesn't want to have to deal with."

"Sounds like a lot of trust to be putting into a random subordinate."

"No, it's not. It's really not like that."

"And he listens to you, when you tell him not to do something?"

"I mean, sometimes." Shang Qinghua is viciously uncomfortable, clearly. Too fucking bad. He made her reevaluate her entire opinion on what it means to be friends with someone. He can take some teasing.

"He doesn't sound like the sort of man to listen to someone's input if they don't matter to him."

"I mean, no, of course not, but that's not-" His voice is shooting up an octave, hands in his hair and tugging at the loose strands. It's all falling out of his bun at this point, and he looks scattered and frayed. Honestly, as far as Liao Qinglan is concerned, it's about damn time he be the one to feel that way.

She takes another long sip of the delicious demon wine, paying close attention to savoring the notes and flavoring and technique of it all. If that has the added bonus of making Shang Qinghua stew in the ideas she's been putting before him, then good. That was the fucking point in the first place.

"He wants to be with you. And you want to be with him. You should probably do something about that." She gestures toward him with the cup of her wine, but quickly tilts it back to make sure that not a single drop of it spills on the table from such a careless motion. Damn her tendency toward dramatic body language. Sure, it gets her point across, but the number of drinks that have been lost to it are far too high. If only she didn't look so cool doing it, she would think about stopping. Instead, this is where a significant portion of her effort as a cultivator goes: in maintaining perfect balance of her drinks until she is too drunk to keep it up.

"I can't talk about this." Shang Qinghua stumbles to his feet. "I have to go. This isn't-. I can't talk about this anymore."

He doesn't look like he wants to stop talking about it. He's wringing his hands and glancing at her in between every word, and there's something in his eyes that is desperate to talk about this further. This is similar to the look he usually gives her when there's some fabulous gossip about another peak lord and he wants her to drag it out of him. What kind of friend would she be if she didn't comply?

"Are you going to go back to the palace, then? Perhaps your king is wounded as well and needs someone to tenderly nurse him back to health?" He makes some kind of horrified, shrieking squeak but, importantly, doesn't argue. "If you leave now, I'm afraid that's the only explanation I'll have."

"I can't talk about this. I really can't. You don't understand, it's not like that." He's shaking and mumbling a little bit, which is cute, if he thinks that's going to be enough to deter her. He still doesn't actually look upset. More like a man who is being forced to talk about a thing he hasn't allowed himself to think about for years on end. What is Zui Xian Peak for, if not something like this?

Liao Qinglan leans over the table and refills Shang Qinghua's cup. It actually was getting a little bit empty this time but, more than that, this is a well-established message between them. It is not time to leave yet. Shang Qinghua watches the wine pour from the jar into his cup with wide, round eyes. When she sets the jar back down, he lowers himself to his seat along with it.

They sit there until late in the night. The wine flows freely. Shang Qinghua's words are blocked for a while, but everyone's tongue loosens under the pressure of enough liquor, and Shang Qinghua is a beautiful accomplice in accomplishing that goal. By the time the rest of the world has been asleep for a shichen, they're both drunken messes and Shang Qinghua is finally willing to go into depth on just how desperately he yearns for his king. By a shichen after that, they have compiled a list of evidence that this king might see him the same way back. Perhaps some of it will even continue to make sense in the morning light.

It's strange, whenever she takes a step back to realize that she is helping her friend in his efforts to seduce a demon. That they are evaluating the behavior of another person as a potential romantic option, and it's a demon, and that's really not making all that much of a difference, beyond the fact that they're having to do all kinds of hasty research on demonic courting rituals and culture.

A year ago, she never would have even considered something like this. It was not simply taboo, or repulsive, or any other negative word. More truthfully, the thought would have never even entered her head for her to have a reaction to it. This reality is so incredibly unthinkable that there hadn't even been the precedent to establish a taboo.

Or, well, that can't be quite true, can it? Because the most recent story that's been flying through the jianghu is that the little disciple over on Qing Jing Peak actually turned out to be some kind of big-shot half-demon. So, presumably, at least one other person has violated the not-yet-a-taboo before. Strange, that no one ever really talked about that. It would have been super convenient for her to get the chance to start changing her opinion on demons years ago.

And then, now, that disciple is supposed to be in a relationship with his shizun. A little scandalous, perhaps. Liao Qinglan tends to live and let live when it comes to love and politics. As long as no one seems to be hurt, and just looking at them shows how pleased they both are with the arrangement.

Why has she been okay with hearing about that side of things? If that Luo Binghe is half-demon, why did she not have a problem with Shen Qingqiu's relationship as well? Would she have considered that relationship taboo, if she'd thought about it further?

This is stupid. And it's not the point. And she's drunk. It doesn't matter whether or not it's a taboo, because the point is that it's not taboo, or at least it doesn't feel like it. It feels like talking to any of her other friends about someone they are interested in. Not that it happens all that often, considering she has something of a reputation on her peak for being unsympathetic. As if that could ever be the case. She simply knows exactly what everyone should be doing and finds it ridiculous when they decide to do something other than what she said to do. Is that so wrong?

The point is that her friend, one of her closest friends, went off and fell in love with a demon king. Something that was completely unheard of and now it seems to be happening to two different peak lords of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. And it doesn't actually seem to be that bad of a thing at all, when she gets to hear some of the details about it.

She's drunk. This is ridiculous and she is so drunk and so is Shang Qinghua and they shouldn't be having any kind of revelations like this when it's this early in the morning and they still haven't even gone to sleep.

With that thought, and with their written-out evidence spread on the table between them, Liao Qinglan tips over and falls asleep. Presumably, Shang Qinghua follows suit, since he is still there when she wakes up hours later to a throbbing headache and scribbled sheets of paper she can barely read.

*~*~*

The next batch of wolfberry wine is remarkably similar to the first one. Because she knows how to make wine and she knows how to do it well, so why would she have created anything other than the most perfect result possible on her very first attempt?

She had changed some of the proportions of ingredients around, switching out some of the camomile for the lilyturf and adding in more of the wolfberry leaves and roots to deepen the flavor a little. She knows what she's doing. She knows how to create a delicious fruit wine, even if it's objectively inferior to all other kinds of wine. She knows what she's doing.

This time, she doesn't even taste it when it's first done fermenting out in the field. She filters it, just as it is meant to be, and leaves it to clarify for another month before she even touches it. Maybe that's what it will take for the flavor to develop. Maybe that's what's necessary for the taste to develop the same way that it does over in the Demon Realm.

When it is finally ready, she sneaks out at night to find where she has hidden her pot, separate from all the others and out in a clearing in the forest, because she cannot find a way to keep hiding this under Yan Yazhu's name without her finding out and getting suspicious.

Instead, she's become some kind of common, sneaking criminal. Apparently. There's a secret pathway out from her house and a secret setup and everything. It's ridiculous. She can't believe she's going this far for something as simple as wolfberry wine.

She sneaks out at night and brings a little snack along, because wolfberry wine pairs well with salty, light, fried things. She knows her shit. She knows how to make these things taste as good as it's possible for them to taste.

The drink pours clear and settled into the little porcelain cup that she brings with her. Liao Qinglan sits peacefully on a small cushion that she has brought with her and sets the cup and the food out on a folding lap table. If she is going to enjoy this drink, then she is going to set herself up to properly enjoy it. Perhaps that is the problem at the root of all of this. Perhaps it is not that the wine is better-tasting, just that she was drinking it while comfortable in her home and happily talking to a good friend. That's got to be why it tasted so much better than any other wine before.

When she sips the wine, the balance of flavors are delicate and much closer to those that she tasted in the original wine. She knows how to balance flavors.

It also has about one tenth the potency and richness of the fucking demonic wine.

It's not even worth it. She pours the rest of her cup out onto the ground and throws the pot with every bit of cultivator strength in her body. It flies through the air and smashes to pieces against a tree at the edge of the meadow. The wolfberry wine runs down the bark of the tree.

It's perfectly prepared. It's perfectly paired. It's perfectly balanced.

It's bullshit.

She goes back inside.

*~*~*

"And how has my friend been faring this month? Have you successfully seduced your demon king yet?"

"Ah, ha ha. Not yet. But, um, no, what have you been spending your time on this month? Anything interesting here?"

"Oh, no no no. Nothing interesting going on here. Besides, I asked you first, and I'll be needing more detail than that."

*~*~*

"I cannot help but notice that my shizun has been spending more time than usual outside of the house, particularly in the late hours of the night."

"Is there something you're implying, Yan Yazhu?"

"This lowly one would never dare to do such a thing. This one merely wondered what the peak lord could possibly be doing, to return home last night so covered in stains."

She returned home last night so covered in stains because this whole fucking fruit wine experiment is fucking bullshit and no one should ever try making something like this ever again. What's even the point, when the Demon Realm can come along and so effortlessly and indisputably crush any one of your efforts right into the ground?

She returned home last night so covered in stains because another one of her attempts to recreate the wine had matured enough for tasting and had turned out to be the same faint, inscrutable mess as the batch before it and the one before that.

She returned home last night so covered in stains because, after tasting the results of her weeks of effort, she had punched straight through the heavy clay of the pot so that the wine had spilled all over her. She was covered in the light pink-orange wine that smelled undeniably of wolfberries. And maybe she ran into Yan Yazhu as she was trying to sneak back into her home after that event. Maybe she could smell the guilt and secret missions all over her. Who can say? Liao Qinglan certainly won't. And, if she doesn't confess to anything, then no one can prove that any part of this is happening.

"This peak lord wonders what her head disciple's work load must be like, to have so much time leftover to wonder about her peak lord's personal business."

"Ah, of course, shizun."

*~*~*

"Did you hear? Shizun has been working with fruit wine again!"

"Do you think that means she'll start teaching us how to make it ourselves? I've always wanted to make loquat wine for my mother. She says it's one of her favorite things in the whole world, and I wanted to join this peak to make some for her."

"I heard that she's been working on a special project and that she's going to show it off and share it with the whole peak when she finishes! Maybe we'll have to wait until then before she's willing to share any of her techniques with any of us?"

*~*~*

"Liao Qinglan, I would like to officially introduce you to my friend, Red Tree." Shang Qinghua gestures between her and the enormous demon that towers behind him. He is quite a bit different, like this. Liao Qinglan had, of course, noticed the changes in his outfits as he became more willing to talk to her about his life in the Demon Realm. He has slowly and gradually taken to wearing more furs, more deep blues and soft silvers and greys. The cut of the clothing itself is a little different, even if he never tends toward some of the more revealing styles that can be popular among some of the demons Liao Qinglan has encountered.

Apparently, even the changes she saw were significantly toned down in an effort to make Liao Qinglan comfortable during visits, because that is not at all how her friend is dressed today. Sure, there is some of the same essence, but Shang Qinghua is carrying himself so differently. The overall picture is so different.

His simple cultivators robes have been set aside. Instead, he is draped in layers of thin blue fabric. They are all see-through on their own and, when layered together like this, make a beautiful scale of deepening blue as it moves away from his throat. As the color deepens, so does one's ability to see through the fabric itself. All this to say, she can definitely see much more of Shang Qinghua's chest than she has ever wanted to before this moment.

Over top of the thin blue fabric, he is wearing a luxurious cape with a thick ruff made from some kind of monster pelt that shines the brightest white and is flecked with little spots of black. It looks like it cost about the same amount as the entire budget for her peak in a year. As if that isn't enough, Shang Qinghua's wrists and neck and ankles all tinkle with the weight of dangling silver bangles and charms. Even his guan is elegant and detailed silver, dripping with diamonds and sapphires.

This is still her friend. He doesn't carry himself like this is the natural way that things should be, or with the elegant lines of old royalty. Instead, and even more unnervingly, he wears them with a kind of patient exasperation. She watches as her dear friend talks, occasionally huffing in frustration when one of his hand movements jostles his bangles in the wrong way. His irritated adjustment to the way they lay is practiced and automatic.

Shang Qinghua may not have been raised in this kind of luxury, but this is not a new way of presenting himself. Truly, there is much she has not known about her friend's life.

Liao Qinglan takes the time to look away from her friend. There's no more time to analyze all the ways that he is different when there's something much more important to focus on.

Her frustration had boiled over the last time he came to visit, several weeks ago and several hours into their drinking of the delicious wolfberry wine. She never would have allowed any of her shame to show itself without at least a jar or two of wine in her. But, when it had, and she took another sip of that damned wine, she couldn't help but explode her frustration all over Shang Qinghua, about how ridiculous is was that someone in the Demon Realm could come up with a recipe for wine like this when she, the peak lord of Zui Xian Peak, wasn't able to even replicate it. It was keeping her up at night and bringing shame to her entire peak and he had better take responsibility for the crisis he had caused by bringing it into her life.

She hadn't thought it would actually go anywhere. That's pretty much how their drinking nights have always gone. The two of them get drunk and shoot the shit and complain at length about anything that is pissing them off in the world. Then they yell at each other a bit and pass out on the table. It's great.

When Shang Qinghua had shown up at her home in the middle of an afternoon, long before he was due for another monthly visit and dressed like he was born and raised in the Demon Realm, she had been suspicious as hell. She is also very much not the kind of person who can leave a mystery alone when it arrives at her doorstep. Or, well, she's actually usually very good at ignoring mysteries, but not when they involve her friend.

Now, less than a shichen later (after a short flight through a hidden gap in the border between the realms), here she is: standing in the middle of a small plateau in the center of a desert in the Demon Realm. There is a pagoda nearby, a demon standing behind her friend, and very little else to be seen.

"A pleasure to meet you," Red Tree (the demon in question) says, through lips that are really more like a beak than any other kind of mouth Liao Qinglan has ever seen. The hands that are raised in a mocking salute are lightly feathered along the knuckles and fingerbones, with longer, showier feathers sprouting from the wrist like wristguards. Red Tree is huge, several heads taller than Liao Qinglan could ever hope to be. The feathers crest like hair atop their head and flow down their back. The feathers themselves are bright red and glaring in the afternoon sun. With so many feathers about them, there is very little need for clothing. They are wearing a few wrapped layers of thin red fabric in a shade that matches the feathers. Rather than the bangles that Liao Qinglan has seen so many demons wear, Red Tree seems to prefer golden jewelry that wraps closely against their skin. Likely in a way that keeps anything from interfering with their work. They would maybe be fascinating to look at, if they weren't so clearly uninterested in anything Liao Qinglan has to offer.

"And you, Red Tree," Liao Qinglan replies, dipping into a proper and sincere salute, because fuck you, that's why.

"Consort Shang has shared that a cultivator has developed quite a taste for our wolfberry wine." Liao Qinglan wants to roast the hell out of Shang Qinghua for the fact that people are running around calling him "consort" and he still doesn't know if his king is interested in him.  Instead, she shoots him a betrayed look, deciding to focus on the fact that he is going around telling everyone about the things that they discuss in confidence. "This recipe has been in my family for many generations. To think that such a great cultivator might take interest in our humble wine."

The words themselves are humble, but the tone is scathing and sarcastic. Red Tree watches Liao Qinglan with a fire in their eyes. The eyes are small and black, like a songbird's. Liao Qinglan can't believe Shang Qinghua brought her here for something like this.

"It would be this lowly demon's honor to share such a treasured and secret family recipe with Liao Qinglan, great cultivator of the Human Realm, at the behest of someone so renowned as Consort Shang himself." The smile that stretches across Red Tree's beak reveals that there are razor sharp teeth behind it.

"This is ridiculous," Liao Qinglan snaps, because it is clear that this demon does not want to do this and that Shang Qinghua is out here making some kind of political move that he doesn't even know he made. Liao Qinglan doesn't even want to be here in the first place. Also she is not the kind of person to go around taking someone's secret recipe when they clearly don't want to share. She has more honor than that. "Why are any of us here? Take me back home, Shang Qinghua."

She turns to leave but, before she can take another step toward her traitorous friend, the towering figure of Red Tree moves between them. They have returned to their mocking salute and the sharp smile on their face is so ingratiating that it loops back around to being threatening. Shang Qinghua cowers behind the figure of Red Tree, as if this entire situation is not of his construction in the first place. Liao Qinglan is going to kill him.

"Surely, Liao Qinglan would not depart so soon after Consort Shang went through all the difficulty of arranging such a meeting." Those sharp teeth are incredibly close to Liao Qinglan's hands. She grips tighter at the sword that she brought with her. Only she and Shang Qinghua know that it's a bluff. She is not competent with the sword. Red Tree doesn't know that. "This lowly one has prepared such a thorough tour of the process we use."

There is something going on here that Liao Qinglan does not understand and that no one seems willing to explain to her. Which, whatever, fine. It's a tour of a wine-making process. She knows how to do this sort of thing. And, besides, she has been trying to recreate this flavor for months on end. If the demons want to give away their secrets, if they're insisting on it even after she gives them an out, then that's not Liao Qinglan's problem.

And so, she smiles back, just as gratingly and insincerely. Red Tree gestures her over to where the materials for wine-making seem to be gathered, and Liao Qinglan goes without comment. Fine. If this is what her day is going to turn into, then she might as well get something out of it.

Red Tree, when they aren't threatening humans, does actually know quite a lot about the wine making process. It seems that they were right to say that their family had perfected this recipe over many generations. Liao Qinglan's knowledge of alcohol is broad and sizable, spanning all the various forms that it can possibly take. Red Tree's knowledge isn't wide, but it is deep. Clearly, their family has dedicated much of their time to the study of this sort of thing.

"I didn't know that demons spent much time on the preparation of food and drink," Liao Qinglan remarks, as Red Tree shows off their stores of preserved, dried wolfberries, shipped from the Human Realm. Red Tree doesn't have skin around their nose to wrinkle, but their brow furrows in a way that suggests a similar bad smell.

"Humans are unable to consume raw meat and remain safe. Of course you would develop ways to prepare food in a way that is pleasurable and safe to you. Don't look down on demonic cuisine simply because we are able to enjoy our meals with less effort required."

Liao Qinglan snaps her mouth shut, feeling chastised, even though that didn't actually answer the question she had been asking. Well, maybe she hadn't phrased the question as a question at all. Still, Red Tree doesn't seem like they would be much in the mood to answer no matter what she says, so Liao Qinglan decides to simply listen now and interrogate Shang Qinghua later.

Red Tree seems to have batches of the wolfberry wine sitting at all stages of preparation, as most families do, when they are responsible for meeting a demand. Red Tree shows how they prepare the malted rice and form it into qu. They show the store rooms where the qu sits until dried and ready. They show the rehydration of berries and brewing of additional flavors. The preparation of fresh rice as well as the base rice wine. They mix it carefully and store the entire thing in a pot, explaining that it will sit for 20 days before it will be filtered and left to clarify.

And.

It's.

The.

Exact.

Fucking.

Same.

It's the same. It's the exact same process that Liao Qinglan has been completing over and over and over again. She watches every single step. She takes visual measure of every proportion. She compares every timeline Red Tree mentions with the ones used by her own disciples. It's all the exact same damn thing that she has been trying for months with no result to fucking show for it.

"Is this some sort of trick?" She demands, when it is impossible to stay quiet for a moment longer. Red Tree, who is actually fairly pleasant in demeanor when they are so focused on their craft, straightens to their full height and turns their fathomless black eyes back on Liao Qinglan.

"Surely Liao Qinglan misspoke." It's a warning, and Liao Qinglan isn't going to listen to it. If this is the whole process that they're going to go through and she isn't even going to get the secret to the recipe out of it, then what the fuck are they doing here?

"Liao Qinglan did not misspeak." She gets up in Red Tree's space, even though they could easily crush her and they both probably know it. "The honorable Red Tree is speaking of the basic steps of the wine making process, as if this peak lord would not already have extensive knowledge of such things." Liao Qinglan is hissing with the fury of a thousand nights of secret wine preparation. "This lord has followed the exact process laid out today and the results taste nothing like the wine that I have tasted from this very winery."

A sneer starts to spread across Red Tree's face. "Has the great peak lord Liao Qinglan considered, perhaps, that it is not the process that is flawed, but rather the craftsman?"

Liao Qinglan is not the type of person to become upset easily. She could never survive as the peal lord of Zui Xian Peak if she were the kind of person who needed everyone to remember her and think she was great. But, she is good at one specific thing, has built her life around one specific thing, and it is unacceptable to her that Red Tree might challenge her here. Without another thought, Liao Qinglan draws her sword.

The razor sharp sneer grows even sharper, and then Red Tree is flying toward her and Liao Qinglan is discovering that, beneath those feathers, there are talons. She is discovering this as she feels them dig into the flesh of her bicep and press her flat on the dirt ground. There are razor sharp teeth pressed right up alongside her neck, a promise of retaliation for any further efforts. The fight is over before it even starts, with Red Tree so soundly defeating her that it would be heinously shameful were anyone else around to see it. Speaking of-

"Where is that coward Shang Qinghua," she huffs.

"I do believe he left us to ourselves ages ago, oh mighty cultivator. And," the teeth draw even closer. Liao Qinglan can feel the heat of breath against the join of her neck and shoulders. "I do believe you have more pressing concerns."

They're right. Liao Qinglan definitely should be more afraid right now than she is. Why is that? She supposes it just seems difficult to be scared of someone after you have just watch them talk for several shichen about a craft that they are passionate about. Red Tree has their teeth pressed right to Liao Qinglan's jugular, and it would be very difficult to kill her like this, but not impossible. Liao Qinglan is good at circulating her qi and healing herself quickly. Is she good enough to heal a torn-out neck before it kills her? She should definitely be more scared than she is.

"If you were going to kill me, you would have already done so." She's pretty sure. At least 60% sure. Red Tree certainly has every opportunity and hasn't taken it.

"You seem sure of that."

"I'm still alive, aren't I?"

Red Tree huffs a scathing laugh before pulling their teeth back. Just far enough that their unnerving bird's eyes can meet Liao Qinglan's own. They stay there for a moment. The talons dig deeper into Liao Qinglan's shoulder, drawing up blood onto her robes. When nothing changes, when Liao Qinglan doesn't make another move, Red Tree finally pulls away, flopping to sit in the dirt next to her. Liao Qinglan hauls herself up so that she's mirroring the position, circulating her qi so that the punctures in her shoulder are already almost healed.

"That's a handy trick," Red Tree murmurs, gesturing toward the place where the skin is already showing fresh and new through the blood.

"There is actually a reason I have managed to survive this long. A very good reason I don't have to be afraid of you."

"You are alive only by the influence of your friends, you know. Horrifying as it is that the king of the Northern Desert has taken a human as his consort."

Liao Qinglan can't argue much with that. She had felt much the same about Shang Qinghua's choice of romantic interest.

"Where did that little rat go, anyway?" She glances around before following the line of Red Tree's finger where they point at a small figure, dressed in blue, laying down on a flat rock and tossing and catching a pebble above his head. While they watch, Shang Qinghua fumbles the catch and it slaps down onto his face. He rubs at his nose, glances around to see if anyone noticed, misses them watching him, and returns to his little game.

"He stepped away just a few minutes into the explanation of the process. It seems not everyone is as interested in the noble process of wine making as you and I."

"You are hiding something," Liao Qinglan persists, unable to leave the point alone, even if much of the anger has left. "I've been trying to replicate your recipe for months now and I've done the exact same things. It does not carry one third the flavor of the wine you produce here."

"And it could never be true that the Demon Realm is simply better at wine production than the Human Realm?" It's the same conversation again, but some of the poison has been drawn out of it.

"It's not a matter of demon versus human. I am not upset because I think a demon has done something better than me," Liao Qinglan explains, realizing as she says it that it's the truth. "I am the peak lord of Zui Xian Peak. It is a peak dedicated to the production and consumption of alcohol, and I have labored my entire life to master the craft. There are generations of research and similar experts behind me. How can it be that I cannot even detect where your recipe might differ from my own?"

"Your crisis of identity isn't my responsibility to solve." Red Tree huffs again, and it rustles some of the feathers on their face and neck. "Doubt me or no, I would not dare to lie or conceal information when it is at the request of the King of the Northern Deserts."

Liao Qinglan flops back into the dirt and stares up at the way the bright sun of this realm turns the skies red.

"What did Shang Qinghua threaten you with, to make you so willing to share a secret family recipe?"

"Your little rat did not do anything," Red Tree says drily. "It was his king that came to visit, threatening to wipe out the entirety of my family home if I did not follow his consort's every request to the letter."

"So you're doing this out of fear for your life?" Liao Qinglan cannot believe that she is feeling protective over this demon she tried to attack only a few minutes ago, but this is not something she would have thought Shang Qinghua capable of. Red Tree waves a dismissive hand through the air between them.

"It is not an unusual thing. With demon kings, that's just how life is. They're powerful. Demons feel their emotions so strongly, when they fall in love, they might be willing to do anything at all to keep the one they love happy. It's best to just follow along, when there is someone stronger than you, asking for something on behalf of someone they love. I should be thankful he asked at all."

"Still, I didn't know that your family home was in danger." Liao Qinglan is waiting for some kind of further response, but Red Tree just kind of grunts a little and goes back to looking around them. There are more questions bubbling up inside Liao Qinglan, and this might be the only chance she'll have to ask any of them. "Where is your family home?"

Red Tree laughs again, clicks their beak mockingly, and gestures grandly to the dirt ground they are sitting on.

"Oh," Liao Qinglan murmurs, wrong-footed. "Right. It's beautiful."

"You're stupid," Red Tree snipes, spitting onto the ground. "Demons don't build above ground. The grand mansion of my ancestral home extends for stories into the ground beneath our feet."

"Right." Liao Qinglan shuts up again. She keeps fucking this up, so she's just going to shut up for the day.

"I'm not hiding any part of the recipe," Red Tree finally says, after they've sat in silence for what feels like half a shichen. "I don't know why the wine tastes different here. It simply does."

Liao Qinglan sits with that for a moment.

"I don't think I can accept that."

"Accept it or not, it is the truth." Red Tree stands up, brushes the dirt off their clothes and shakes it off their feathers. "And the time we are scheduled to speak is up."

Sure enough, Shang Qinghua is walking back from his perch on the rock. He's gaping and gesturing frantically about the dirt on both of their clothes, as if that was something they did on purpose.

Liao Qinglan shares one final commiserating look with Red Tree, and then they leave, mystery unsolved.

*~*~*

"So, oh honored peak lord, is there going to come a day where you start to explain to me where all of our spare budget is going, or am I going to have to go talk to Shang-shishu myself?"

Yan Yazhu comes striding into the room as if they are continuing a conversation, even though Liao Qinglan has been happily enjoying her time alone in her room, reviewing the notes she took so many months ago. When she returned from the Demon Realm, Liao Qinglan had copied down every single step of the wolfberry wine making process that she could remember, before it left her head. Every single thing that Red Tree did and said and showed, to see any moment when there may have been an opportunity to do something secretively.

It's possible, of course, that they had merely intentionally done a step incorrectly while Liao Qinglan was there, willing to throw out the results of that particular demonstration, so that there would be one ruined batch and no way to worry about the secret of the recipe escaping into the Human Realm. Which means, of course, that Liao Qinglan needed to write down not only everything that they did, but also everything that she saw while walking around the preparation area.

She had done all this right from the beginning, but there really wasn't anything that caught her attention. Now, two failed batches later, she figures it can't hurt to look through all of it again. The notes are...significantly lacking. In her defense, Liao Qinglan isn't accustomed to running spy missions like this, or actually putting effort into solving all the mysteries and theories she quietly forms in the back of her mind.

Also, and this is something she just realized the other day and has been incredibly frustrated about ever since, Red Tree had pointed out that all of their family's infrastructure was underground. Meaning that there was actually very little for Liao Qinglan to notice, visually, beyond the flat dirt plane and the roof under which the wine was prepared. There was an entire mansion's worth of places to hide the things actually used in the recipe.

"Right, so, is this how we're going to be playing this? You're just going to ignore me until I go away?"

"Huh?" Liao Qinglan realizes quite suddenly that her head disciple had definitely asked her a question earlier, and she hadn't done anything even close to acknowledging it, let alone answering.

"I asked if you were going to provide an account for where all of our peak's money has been going, recently." Yan Yazhu's voice is as flat and dry as the dirt in the Demon Realm where Red Tree makes their home. Maybe that has something to do with why the wine tastes different...

"Ah, no." No, Liao Qinglan is not eager to share things like the answer to that question with everyone. Shameful enough that it's officially become impossible to hide that she has been working with fruit wine. This can't get out too.

"Okay, so I'll just go ask Shang-shishu, then." This is possible because, infuriatingly, Shang Qinghua has recently been reinstated as the peak lord of An Ding Peak. After all that work that Liao Qinglan had personally done to decide what she thought of him, her friend was welcomed back to the sect as if nothing had happened in the first place, all because no one could figure out how to do the things that he does.

Yan Yazhu strides from the room before Liao Qinglan can stop her.

*~*~*

The money, of course, is going toward the very expensive process of sending letters back and forth between the Demon and Human Realms. With the improvement in relationship between the realms (mostly due to several specific members of demonic royalty), recently, it seems that a few enterprising demons have seen the opportunity for moneymaking and have started a business conveying letters through the few borders where the boundary between realms is weak.

It's not cheap, though. It's a very specialized service.

It takes Yan Yazhu a few more weeks before she comes back with the answer to her question. There is no reason that Shang Qinghua should have known the answer, but Liao Qinglan accepted, when processing through all the shit that came out, that her best friend is a sneaky, conniving snake who always knows more than he should about everything. So, when Yan Yazhu starts looking at her significantly and sighing loudly every time she sees her peak lord sitting at the desk in her room, scribbling away at another sheet of paper, well. It's pretty obvious that she's figured out what's going on.

The first time that Liao Qinglan sent a letter to Red Tree, it was mostly full of pleasantries and thank yous and politeness, because that was the only excuse she could think of for writing a letter in the first place. And because that was how a peak lord probably should write a letter to someone from a realm they were recently in a sort of angry stalemate with. And it also seemed like Red Tree had agreed to the tour in the first place because of the influence of someone from royalty, so why not remind them that Liao Qinglan also has a title and some level of clout?

She wrote the letter in her best calligraphy, with the finest ink, on her heaviest paper. She signed it with her full title.

When that hadn't worked, Liao Qinglan had sent another letter every day for a week straight, so that they all arrived one after the other. She had to pay extra to make sure the post didn't pile up and arrive in one big lump. She wanted there to be a letter arriving every day. She wanted Red Tree to feel pressured.

When the first return letter finally arrived, with simply a bold fuck off written across the thick paper, Liao Qinglan knew that she was starting to have an impact. It was a reaction. A response.

The next letter she had sent merely said no.

The one after that involved a breakdown of every part of the process that she had noticed Red Tree following during the tour, along with a request for them to edit any part of it that was incorrect.

It took a few more tries for Liao Qinglan to realize that Red Tree tends to ignore any letter that comes right out the gate asking about wine. But, if she just rambles on about this or that from her day to day, she can sometimes get a brief response. If she asks a question or two about Red Tree's day, she will sometimes even get a few word long response directly answering those questions. It helps when she includes enough of a payment for a return letter as well, because it is (again) not a cheap process and Red Tree could easily use that as an excuse.

It had taken months. It really had. But! As of yesterday, Liao Qinglan can finally say that it is starting to pay off! Entirely separate from the potential friendship that she may or may not claim to have with a demon, she also officially received a package of the specific dried wolfberries that Red Tree uses in their wine.

They may be from the Human Realm initially, but Liao Qinglan has tentatively given up on the idea of there being a secret ingredient that Red Tree is refusing to tell her. They are close enough now that Liao Qinglan can say that they are probably not the sort of person to maintain a lie for such a long time.

If there isn't some secret ingredient or technique, that means that there is a larger secret, unknown to both of them. There is definitely something different between the two recipes. If it's something that Red Tree genuinely doesn't know, then it's something hidden either within the ingredients or the process. Which means that Liao Qinglan has chosen to start by focusing on isolating which of the specific ingredients is causing the change in the flavor, since the process is (as far as she can tell) the same. No ingredient can be above suspicion.

So, Liao Qinglan finally managed to convince Red Tree to send her their wolfberries. She'll make a batch of the wine with this and see if it changes the flavor at all. It shouldn't, because, again, these berries are from the Human Realm and Zui Xian Peak already receives the best fruits available, but there's no way to know until she's experimented, and Liao Qinglan is not willing to leave any stone unturned.

Maybe Yan Yazhu figures out just what is going on, and maybe she sends a few dark glances over Liao Qinglan's way every now and then. She can't blame her. It would be confusing to her as well, to see the peak lord suddenly reverse her opinion on fruit wine in general, dedicate herself to the production of a very specific kind of fruit wine, and spend all the extra budget on communication with the demon realm, when that has never been an interest before now.

Maybe Yan Yazhu would understand better if she would just get a taste of Red Tree's wine. But that's not going to happen, because Liao Qinglan is not willing to share even a drop. The wine is too delicious, too rare, too precious for her to go sharing it around with anyone who's interested.

The important thing is that she's finally managed to convince Red Tree to share some of their materials, even if it's just one thing at a time, with the requirement that Liao Qinglan share any findings she makes as soon as she makes them. That's the part that matters.

She keeps sending the letters, though, even while the wine is fermenting.

*~*~*

This is an absolutely terrible idea, and Liao Qinglan is pretty sure that everyone here knows it. If they are all smart enough to know it, then it really shouldn't have happened in the first place, but they can't seem to actually live out any of that wisdom everyone says that these immortals are bestowed with.

All this to say: Liao Qinglan is sitting at a table in her house. Not the one that she usually sits at for the monthly bitch-sessions she has with Shang Qinghua, because that one would be too small. Instead, Yan Yazhu helped her cart in a huge table earlier in the day. Seated at the table are Shang Qinghua, his emotionless ice demon king, Red Tree, Yan Yazhu, and Liao Qinglan.

They've been here for almost half a shichen at this point, and you would think that would mean that some of the tension would have died down into a calm pattern of conversation. Not so. Not at all. Liao Qinglan is the most charismatic of them all by far, and they all know it, which leaves her to chatter away while almost everyone else sits in silence. Shang Qinghua is talking too, because he's literally never not talking, but he's so anxious and uncomfortable that his voice is two octaves above where it usually is, and it's just drawing everyone's attention to how weird this is.

Red Tree is sitting calmly on their cushion, sipping leisurely at the cup of wine before them. Liao Qinglan was maybe, potentially, showing off a little bit when she was planning this, so she set out rice wine and fruit wine and liquor and baiju and this delicious mixed drink that one of the older juniors has been trying to get everyone in the sect to drink. There are options and cups within reach of every single person at the table, and Liao Qinglan has been graciously pouring for anyone who indicates a preference.

Red Tree had brought a jar of their own wine and is drinking that. Yan Yazhu took the opportunity to finally try this drink that her peak lord has been trying to recreate and has been expressing her appreciation with little happy noises and praise. Mobei-Jun asked for tea and indicated that he did not intend to drink while he was here. Shang Qinghua has been trying the mixed drink and keeps talking about how delicious it is, even though he grimaces every time he takes a sip, and he's not drinking nearly as frequently as he usually does when he comes to visit.

Liao Qinglan has been sullenly drinking one of the rice wines that she takes the most pride in creating and that she believes is the finest drink produced by her peak. She is also moments away from slamming her head against the surface of the table until she passes out and wakes up once everyone has left.

"So glad that we all got together like this." Red Tree's voice is as dry as the desert they live in and Liao Qinglan considers wrestling them to the ground right there, even though they've already shown exactly how a fight like that would go.

"Yes, well, this lowly one thought it might be time for all these friends to have the chance to get to know each other." She can play this overly polite, shit-eating game as well. Take that, Red Tree. As if anyone wants to be here.

"Ah ha ha," Shang Qinghua, the motherfucker who actually planned this whole disastrous event, pipes in. "Yeah, there have been so many times where one or two of us has been talking to another and talked about someone else here. I though it might be good to all get to know each other, that way everyone has a little more context for the people everyone else is always talking about. In a good way! Like you do when there's a bunch of people who you think would all get along!" Liao Qinglan smiles at him and inclines her head in a graceful acknowledgement. It is a threat and they both know it. Shang Qinghua laughs again, even more uncomfortable.

"I had no idea that a peak lord of a righteous cultivation sect was spending so much time talking about the Demon King of the Northern Desert," Red Tree snarks.

"And I had no idea you spent so much time talking to Shang Qinghua about me." Liao Qinglan may not be able to win in a physical fight, but damn if she is going to let Red Tree get away with that when they're on her peak. "Had I known you thought of me so often, I would have been sure to write more. Although, I cannot blame you for being fascinated by someone who is an expert in your field." She smiles at Red Tree this time, a knife's blade in her mouth.

"Pretty sure Red Tree isn't the one spending all of our peak's budget on sending letters back and forth between realms." Yan Yazhu adds, the traitor.

"Can confirm." Shang Qinghua raises his cup in Yan Yazhu's direction and they both take a long drink in solidarity with each other. Shang Qinghua's nose wrinkles up when he remembers that he's only pretending to be enjoying his drink. Good. Suffer. Mobei-Jun doesn't say anything, but reaches over to refill Shang Qinghua's cup from the teapot sitting before him. Shang Qinghua glances up at him in worshipful gratefulness.

"Well, it would be quite rude to expect someone else to pay for such an expensive service. Of course this immortal master is more than willing to assist Red Tree in this method of communication."

"Of course, as someone capable of creating a wine that is so thoroughly enjoyed and treasured by so many," Red Tree gestures around at everyone except Mobei-Jun, "this one has never been lacking in funds. Perhaps, if someone finds that they are the only one putting forward all the effort to engage in communication, that may be a reason for that other than money."

"If the honorable Red Tree has something to say, then perhaps they should be so principled as to state it clearly."

"Oh, I'll speak clearly when I-"

"SO!" Shang Qinghua jumps to his feet to interrupt, speaking loudly and quickly while clearly unaware of what the next word to leave his mouth at any moment will be. "I'm just so happy that we all get to spend a time in community like this! How lovely, to be able to unite the Human and Demon Realms over something so simple and universal as a good drink."

"A very good drink," Red Tree mutters under their breath, at the same time that Liao Qinglan hisses out "as if anyone has even tried the drinks." They scowl furiously at each other before Shang Qinghua sidles over to stand directly between their line of sight.

"And how lucky we are, that the night has only just begun, and we will have the chance to try so many new things. There may be a few bumps in the road, but community can only grow stronger over time. Perhaps, next time, we could even invite Liu Mingyan and Sha Hualing, or Shen Qingqiu and Junshang!"

And that, the idea of the absolute catastrophe that would result from something like that, is overwhelming. The thought of that terribly shameless couple, one an immortal and untouchable peak lord, the other his adoring younger disciple who also would outrank everyone in the room in terms or status and power, sitting at this table and in this terribly uncomfortable moment with everyone else, it's so funny that it pierces right through all the tension and frustration that Liao Qinglan has been feeling all night. She finds herself suddenly slumped with her cheek against the smooth, cool surface of the table and giggling uncontrollably. Across the table and out of her line of sight, Red Tree lets out a single, derisive snort.

"That would be such a terrible, awful idea. I really can't think of a single idea worse than that," she stutters out between helpless giggles.

Shang Qinghua blusters a bit, but Red Tree backs up Liao Qinglan with "If you invite them to something like this, I am afraid I will fall suddenly and terribly ill and be unable to attend." Mobei-Jun doesn't say anything, but calmly pulls Shang Qinghua back down to his seat beside him. The message is clear enough.

Shang Qinghua slumps in defeat for a bit, but something about that really cleared the air anyway. And, suddenly, it isn't quite so awful to sit with all these people that she doesn't know very well. The night goes on, and Red Tree actually tries some of the wine that Liao Qinglan made, after all the wine that they brought runs out. Yan Yazhu seems to strike up an easy and cutting rapport with Red Tree, which is a horrifying thing that Liao Qinglan needs to keep a very close eye on. Shang Qinghua seems to actually calm down a little bit, once everyone else starts to, and Liao Qinglan gets to see the quiet and unspoken way that he and Mobei-Jun look after each other. The way that Shang Qinghua effortlessly directs attention and conversation away from him, and the way that Mobei-Jun pours him a cup of tea between every few drinks and makes sure that his cantaloupe seeds are always within reach.

And maybe Red Tree, at the end of it all, makes a quiet comment about how the rice wine wasn't all that awful. And maybe Liao Qinglan treats herself to one cup of the wolfberry wine before it all goes away. And maybe the night isn't actually that awful after all.

*~*~*

It has been months. Months and months and months of meeting up for drinks in any combination of the original five at that first night. Of making all kinds of wine. Or, more accurately, of making the same exact wine from the same exact recipe over and over and over again. There shouldn't be any difference in taste. There hasn't been any difference in taste, even as she substitutes in every ingredient from the Demonic Realm, one after the other. At some point, she started to come to terms with the fact that she is going to have to figure out what to try next. Nothing is changing and there is very little else that could be a secret factor. She is starting to prepare to travel to the Demon Realm herself for every step of the process, to see what individual stage contributes to the unique flavor.

She's tasting this most recent batch because it's the last one and she needs to check every option off the list before she starts trying something else. The only thing they changed this time is the qu, and that's barely anything at all, so she's not expecting any impact on the taste. It's not involved in the actual ingredients or flavorings, really.

That's why it's the last thing she tried. That's also why it's such a surprise when she draws a bowlful of wine from the woven reed basket straining out the pulp and rice from the actual wine.

The taste hits her at the tip of her tongue and floods along her taste buds. It's light and mellow and sweet, but the flavor is richer and more complex and layered than anything she has ever managed to draw out of a fruit wine in the decades of her residence on Zui Xian Peak. It's ridiculous. It slides down her throat like a song, leaving a warm tingle behind, followed by the sharp cold of alcohol.

She has, at this point, drunk enough of the wine produced by Red Tree to know that she has perfectly recreated it. She's the peak lord of Zui Xian Peak. More than that, she has trained for almost her entire life to taste every note in a beverage, beyond what any other human, demon, or cultivator could. If she can't taste a difference, then there isn't a difference.

This is a perfect recreation of the wine produced by Red Tree.

It's perfect. It's exactly the same. She takes another careful sip, cycling her qi through her mouth as she does so, just to make sure. Then she takes a deep gulp, because she really has to make sure.

And it is. It's the same.

She lets out a loud whoop.

Her project stopped being a secret ages ago. She has thoroughly trampled her pride and eaten her previous words about fruit wine, and all the peak already knows about it. Embarrassing, sure, but it means that she can shout one more time and then leap to her feet.

She's in the fermentation field, surrounded by so many other deep brown pots full of various fermenting things. It makes for a lovely little obstacle course. Liao Qinglan leaps on top of the jar that her wine is in, jumps from the lid of one to another, landing light as a fluttering bird's wing. She keeps throwing her hands in the air, shouting and howling, stomping the ground.

It's been over two years, at this point, that she has been so focused and fixated on this one thing, and it's finally done. She finally did it. Fuck yeah, she's literally amazing. She did the thing that no one thought she could do.

The qu. It was the qu all along. Fascinating, because she has managed to get Red Tree to write out the whole process at this point, if only to make her shut up about it in all her letters. Liao Qinglan knows that Red Tree makes theirs the same way that the disciples of Zui Xian do. Or, well, because they make so many different types of alcohol here, they have multiple techniques for creating various types of qu. The one that Red Tree uses, though, the one from malted rice, is prepared exactly the same way that their malted rice one is. It's the one that both of them use in their preparation of wolfberry wine. There shouldn't be a difference. There really shouldn't be a difference here.

However, the qu is the part of the recipe that takes the longest to prepare. That's an important part of the process, allowing the malted rice cakes to sit in the dark until they color and dry out. It can take months before it is ready to be used. Out of any ingredient, the qu is the one that has the most time to take in the qualities of the environment its in, if you think about it that way.

Red Tree had said something about that, right at the beginning. That merely being in the Demon Realm made them better at this than Liao Qinglan. Actually, Shang Qinghua might have said something too, back when she was hearing about this amazing wine for the first time. Something about the location of the winery being the reason that it was so famously perfect.

Yan Yazhu comes running before Liao Qinglan can think any further on this, presumably because some disciple or another went to her and told her that the peak lord looked like she was having a qi deviation in the middle of the fermentation field. Tattle-tales.

Still, this is a good day, and she's happy to share. She doesn't need to solve every problem right now.

"Yan Yazhu! Come try! I figured it out!"

She can finally stop worrying about it.

*~*~*

She can't stop worrying about it.

If it's the qu that's causing the wine to taste as good as it does, then that's complicated. If it's the fact that the qu came from the Demon Realm that makes it taste so good, rather than some technology in the preparation or some secret ingredient, then what does that mean about the wine that Liao Qinglan finally managed to make?

If the thing that finally makes her wine good is the qu from the Demon Realm, then does that mean that she's going to be taking credit for a taste that she is actually incapable of creating?

Or, is it just like ordering a very special and rare ingredient from somewhere else? Maybe the act of incorporating it into her recipe means that she is making it her own, and can still take credit for it.

But, then again, the actual process of making the wine is no different between them. Red Tree does it the same way. There's no difference at all between the art the two of them are making, except that Red Tree's is better. Because it was made in the Demon Realm.

*~*~*

Red Tree,

If I pay you for some of the qu that you make and then start properly making my own wolfberry wine (instead of just as an experiment), what are the odds that I end up being attacked in the night by a very offended demon? Just trying to get an idea of how much of this would be considered stealing your recipes.

Liao Qinglan

Qinglan,

I get wolfberries from the Human Realm. This is stupid. Stop worrying.

Red Tree

Red Tree,

Got your letter. Can't believe you're being so quick to dismiss this. If I start making the same exact wine that you do then you'll lose a lot of your income. This is serious. I don't want to take a step and then realize later that it was a mistake.

Liao Qinglan

Qinglan,

I'm telling you it's fine. Everyone who makes wine has a similar recipe. If you're paying me for the qu, then I don't know why this is such a concern.

Red Tree

Red Tree,

Is there something I could provide in exchange? Feels like this is going to make a strange imbalance between us. We have a supplier for our wolfberries that provides high-quality fruit as long it is in season. I am willing to send you the name, as well as potential access to our base rice wines. Additionally, we could compare closer notes on the exact proportions of flavorings you're adding? See if we can perfect the combination together?

What are your thoughts on this?

Liao Qinglan

Qinglan,

Holy shit. I'll just talk to you about this in person tomorrow.

Red Tree

*~*~*

Shang Qinghua still isn't quite sure how he got to a place in his life where he is cleaning up after a wedding ceremony between himself and the Demon King of the Northern Deserts. It all feels like something of a whirlwind, even though they have spent the last few decades knowing each other better. Even though there is not a single part of their relationship that moved quickly.

Still, he feels somewhat in shock, as he starts to sort through all of the gifts and tributes that arrived to the palace. They were piled onto several large tables in the receiving room of the royal suites. The wedding was several days ago, but this is the first chance that Shang Qinghua has had to actually start going through everything. There will need to be thank you notes sent out and appropriate appreciation shown to the clans that actually impact their political standing.

Mobei-Jun is lounging on the bed in the other room, with the door wide open, so that he can watch and throw judgemental looks in Shang Qinghua's direction. He is not thrilled about the decision to begin doing important work again, rather than spending another day in bed.

It's several shichen into the work before Shang Qinghua stumbles across it. He's been picking through each table methodically, writing down detailed notes on each item as he encounters it, as well as who it is from, what he thinks should be done with it, and potential implications of this particular choice of wedding present.

The jar of wine, when he comes across it, is elegant but, overall, quite unassuming when compared to all the other presents. It isn't eye-catching all on its own. Simple and light brown, with a detailed impression of a wolfberry vine on the outside. It looks, at first glance, exactly like the jars of wine that Shang Qinghua procured so many times to bring to the monthly hangs with Liao Qinglan. Expensive, but worth it in the effort to rebuild one of the only friendships he was actually able to make. (He'd put so little effort into writing Liao Qinglan, when he first made the world, that meeting her in person was actually like getting to know a real person, for once.)

He only notices, after setting the bottle to the side and catching an inconsistency from the corner of his eye, that a new seal has been added to the rim of the bottle. Rather than the simple red wax seal with a tree pressed into it, it now features a high mountain peak, with a tree growing from the top.

When he checks the letter that came with the bottle, he sees that it is from both Liao Qinglan and Red Tree.

[storiedhistories]

@fenixburned liked this post for a dad-centric starter

Hades was well aware of how mortals frequently depicted him in various works of fiction (the film about a certain Greek hero, though they'd used the Roman form of his name, made by a certain company whose mascot was a talking mouse came to mind as one of the more egregious depictions), though he hadn't been familiar with Mythomagic. Not until Nico showed him. At least this interpretation of him was equally as powerful as his brothers, if nothing else.

"I know it can't be easy for you, having the god of the dead as a father," he murmured, glancing over at Nico. "And for that…., I am sorry." His voice was soft, and it was clear how much he cared for his son. "I never wanted your life to be as hard as it has been…., but I wouldn't trade you for anything." Nico was his son, and he loved him dearly. He just wished that he'd had an easier life; Nico had been through so much at such a young age, and Hades wished he'd been able to protect him.

[thenexusofsouls]

"Well if I failed it, that means I didn't learn it, right? I dunno, though, honestly, real life's not like school. They try to tell you, 'Memorize these eighteen vocab words or you'll grow up a loser and won't get a job,' but really... as an adult, if you wanna know somethin', you look it the hell up." Wade really thought that today's American schools were doin' a real disservice to kids, with the memory recall and repetition techniques instead of teaching them important things like critical and independent thinking.

"I think 'steada teachin' kids to memorize shit, we should be teachin' 'em life skills, like how to use a library or a computer, how to do your taxes, how to manage your finances, stick to a budget, how to ask the right questions, basic email etiquette, how to network socially, how to make a resume, that kinda stuff. That's the stuff you need to know to be a functional adult, not what sphenopalatine ganglioneuralgia means." There was a quiet beat and then, "Brain freeze. That's what it means. You know, like when you eat ice cream too fast? I just love sayin' it, that's the only reason I know it," he said with a chuckle. "I dunno, I learn better by doin', not by readin' or studyin'. There's no substitute for life experience, man."

He saw Rockland's energy be taken down a peg about being a responsible person, and he understood why. "Yeah, I know, bein' responsible's no fun, and it sucks that you've gotta do it so young, but it really is admirable. And it'll give you a leg up later in life, definitely. You're already ahead of most kids just because you pay attention to all this stuff they don't. So keep that in mind. It sucks, but it pays off, trust me," he tried to say by way of encouragement and cheering the kid up a bit. Sometimes life gave you lemons, but if you learned how to make lemonade out of them early on, you were better off later.

As the conversation shifted to Rockland's mom, Wade could see the conflict in the young boy's eyes. He shrugged at little at his assumption that her leaving meant she didn't care. "Eh, not necessarily. People leave for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes it's not even really under their control. For example... I once was paid to find a guy who'd completely disappeared. His family was lookin' for him, he owed all this money, he let all his bills lapse, that sorta thing. Guy was gone for years. His family was thinkin' he was a total jerk and just took off to start a new life somewhere. Turns out he actually did. I found him a couple states over livin' a completely different life. Here's the catch, though... The guy had been in a car accident, got a head injury, and suffered almost total amnesia. He didn't know who the hell was and started over again somewhere else. Isn't that wild? So it's not always that people don't care. There can be a lotta reasons why someone leaves."

Wade started chuckling as Rockland asked him if he slept. "I'm not Dracula, buddy. Yeah, I sleep. I just usually do it from morning to late afternoon 'steada at night, that's all. So I'm not tired right now, I just got up a few hours ago. I just didn't wanna get you into any trouble keepin' you out late. Also I'm not lookin' to be accused of kidnappin'. That'd kinda look bad on my resume, you know?" he joked.

Well that caught their attention alright. A middle finger had shot into the air, directed at a group of teens across the street who were hovering by a Duncan Donuts long closed for the night. The boy beneath the hoodie, propelling said finger, sneered. Just like that, the group of five moved towards him, the tallest, Shacks, sauntering forward with an irritating air of confidence. And to think, there'd been a time when Rockland had thought he was cool.

"You can't seriously blame us, Rocky." He looked to the others with cruel amusement, "It was a prank, get a sense of hum-" Too busy searching for the favour of his crew, he'd missed the draw of the younger teen's fist before it met his cheek.

"Prank my ass, I could've been arres-oof." Rockland was tackled by Archie, the smallest of the bunch, who was about a head shorter than he was, but kinda stalky for his age, and with the element of surprise on his side. Cane clattering out of hand, and across the sidewalk, the lanky teen scraped across the pavement, electric pain radiating up from his tailbone. He caught the breath that had been knocked out of him just in time to catch the thump of a fist to the nose in return. - For Wade

Wade didn't know what to make of this city yet. He'd only been here a couple days and was still trying to get his bearings. It wasn't a bad city, he thought, just cold. Just... really cold when you're alone, like all cities are. Nevertheless, Wade did some hunting and stocked up on other supplies, always wanting to stay on the move. That's how he got jobs, and that's how he kept sane.

Tonight had been quiet enough so far... that is until he heard sounds of a fight. But a fight... between kids? Was he hearing this right? Wade made his way toward the sounds, and sure enough, some kids whose parents were absent and whose bedtimes must be fast-approaching were going at it. Or rather, several kids were beating up on one unfortunate one.

"Hey! Come on, cut it out, what the hell're you guys doin'?!" Wade yelled, hoping to scatter the bullies. "You know better than this, get off him! Don't make me call the cops!" he said, watching as they all scattered... save for one. Wade knelt down beside the boy lying on the ground. "Hey, buddy, you okay?" he asked gently.

[angelfrombeneth]

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT, RIGHT? - N . CHAVEZ

Mature Content Ahead

Nicholas Chavez x F!Actress Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Summary: You and Nicholas are costars in a new show - Grotesqueire. When it is time to film a sex scene, you aren't ready; awkward tension takes over, but you know what they say; Practice makes perfect.

Note: I just want to say thank you so much for 1k followers and I hope you enjoy this one - and if you are new here, check out my other works. I have new stuff coming, feel free to request in my inbox for a specific character.

If you are looking for a part 2, please read this post as it explains my reasonings behind not making a part 2.

The filming for Grotesqueire has been underway for a few weeks now, this is your first big role in any media which you are extremely excited for. The show has an extremely interesting script, which is one of the reasons you wanted to put your all into your audition - which got you here.

"Y/N, I need you on set B in 5 minutes" Someone shouted from outside the trailer.

You sat up, taking your glasses off as you put them aside as you grabbed your contact case, quickly putting your contacts. You grab your veil, before exiting your trailer and walking towards the set. Crew preparing sets around you as you pass through different hallways, so much going on in one place but somehow you still felt at home.

"I was wondering where you were" You heard Nicholas laugh behind you as you turned to face him.

You laughed, turning to him as you smiled. Nicholas was your co-star playing a weirdly odd but kinky priest - and well, he was definitely lovely to look at.

"Nicholas, what are you doing?" The costume leader came scrambling over. "That isn't your costume for this scene- come!" She grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the set.

You laughed at Nicholas getting dragged away before walking upon the director and listening to your scene directions.

You sat upon your position on the set, the hairstylist coming to fit the veil upon your head properly, fixing your hair under it as you noticed Nicholas enter the set from the side of your view. You turn to look at him, your eye quirking up at his costume- well lack of costume.

"Nicholas why are you wearing just a towel?" You laughed.

"I have no idea- This is what Marissa gave me-" He spoke but was quickly cut off by the director on the megaphone.

"Alright! So can we get Talia on set please!"

You watched a girl walk up to you and Nicholas, smiling as she held a clipboard. "Y/N! Nicholas! I am very grateful to meet you, I am Talia your intimacy coordinator"

You blinked. You read the script you knew it was coming but you didnt realise it would be so early on. Nicholas shared a similar face to you.

"Now, don't worry, we will go over the main aspects and go over any boundaries the pair of you have" She smiled.

The next twenty minutes were spent with you, Nicholas and the intimacy coordinator. You were still shocked. It wasn't that you couldn't do it - Nicholas was attractive, and all, and the attraction for the scene was definitely there; it was just the awkwardness of it.

After talking Talia deemed you guys to be okay to proceed, the horn sounded round the studio as the pair of you prepared for your scene.

The tension loomed in the air as you stared at Nicholas from the doorway, reciting your lines.

"Can you dry my back sister... please" He hummed, passing a folded white towel over to you. You took it, walking behind him as he kneeled infront of the bed. You took the towel, slowly sliding it over his back full of gashes, cleaning the blood from his back as your finger ran over the bumps. You let your hand reset to his shoulder, softly gripping it as he hummed, it was what was scripted but it felt.. awkward.

"CUT!-" Shot through the studio as alarms sounded once more. Talia and the director came over, looking at you and Nicholas.

"Maybe lets take a break, you two talk through the scene and try and coordinate something. It feels.." The direction tapped his chin as he spoke.

"Awkward. It was very tense and not good tense" Talia sighed.

The pair of you nodded, walking out of the studio and towards the trailer as you groaned, flinging open the door as you tore the veil off your head yet again.

Nicholas sat on the couch looking up at you snickering as you groaned, sitting beside him, tossing your legs over his as you leaned back on the couch.

"I had no clue we were filming.. that today. It's just.. awkward" You looked at him, watching his body face yours completely as he held your full attention. The way his eyes stared into yours as you spoke.

"I mean if it makes you feel any better, I was pretty nervous. I didnt really know what to do and its just unfamilar i guess, its not a regular sex scene its gotta be.. kinky" He chuckled.

He made you feel comfortable. No pressure at all, the awkwardness was lifting bit by bit, showing the light under the fog.

"I mean what if we just.. you know" You blurted.

"If we just what?" Nicholas looked at you confused. "Fucked?"

"I mean you said it not me.." You looked around the room, trying to break the obvious tension as he laughed at your reaction. "I mean, for the scene right?" You smirked.

"Yeah for the scene." You sat up and looked at him as he spoke, crawling towards him slightly. You paused just before him. One of your hands gripping his thigh as the other held his shoulder.

The pair of you looked at each other for a brief moment, the balance of friends and coworkers about to be broken. As much as you wanted to chant in your head, 'it's for work, for work,' it wasn't, was it.

Your lips softly connected with his, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you in, sitting upon his lap, your legs wrapping and encasing him between. His lips mimicked your movement, slowly moving against yours, matching your pace and rhythm.

You pulled away briefly for a moment, looking at him. "This is work right..?" You chuckled.

"Definitely work" He smirked, pushing himself up, sending you up as he pulled apart your dress, the top clasps undoing as you kissed him forcefully. Your arms flew around his neck as he tugged the dress down slightly.

Your lips interlocked as you kissed each other hungrily, your hands combing through his locks as he slid all over your torso, pinching and grabbing at the flesh.

You both wouldn't admit it, but this was a long time coming. With the subtle flirting on and off set, you both were excited for the sex scene to finally be able to 'get a taste' as Nicholas said - but you didn't expect this.

You pulled away, gripping the waist of the dress as you dragged it up your body, pulling it up over your head as you dropped it to the floor, allowing yourself to fall back against the couch, your arms around his neck as you guided him ontop of you.

"Fuck-" Nicholas groaned, towering above you as he stared down as you adored in your black lace set as you stared up at him. "Is lingere supposed to be apart of the costume.. I mean stockings? Really? The dress covers it" His hand slid down your thigh to your calf, feeling the silky sheer material covering your bare skin.

"Personal touch" You smirked at him, your hands holding his shoulders as he licked his lips.

Nicholas's head turned to the side, kissing the wrist of your hand as it held his shoulder, taking the hand as he kissed up your arm slowly, gaining closer and closer.

You pulled him down towards you, rubbing his neck softly as you pecked his lips softly. "Nick- This is mad" You laughed out.

A smile covered his lips as he kissed your cheek, to your jaw and slowly down your neck, nipping occasionally. "Its practice... for work of course"

"The for work excuse has been.. overused~" You melted into his touch, your hands resting softly upon his hips above the towel that fixed upon his body. You tugged his hips closer, noticing his lips depart from your collarbone as he peered up at you.

He licked his lips, sitting back upon his knees as he stared down at you, that cheeky grin on his face. "Now, got to act suprised in the scene, I'll give you a little preview" He snickered.

You reached forward for his towel, tugging it as it puddled at his knees. You gawked for a moment, you didnt expect him to actually be pare naked under the towel - acting and all, you'd think he'd have some sort of cover.

"The director thought it would be more authentic to be completely naked under the towel.... For gravity purposes" He winked, his hands sliding down your waist, hooking his fingers through the sides of your underwear, slowly pulling them down your body.

"That's a terrible excuse" You laughed as you lifted your feet out of your underwear as he dropped them on the floor. You sat up, pushing his chest as he sat back on the couch.

"Calm down, cowgirl", He snickered, leaning back as he stared at you; one of his heads reached to rest upon your hip, the other clasped around himself as he gradually began to pump.

You reached back, unclasping your bra and sliding it off slowly as you threw it at him, the pair of you laughing. The sight of him leant back against the couch, hot and bothered as he stared at you while touching himself was all too much, it was making you hot and bothered.

"Fuck me, you are so hot Nicholas" you brought your hands to your face, covering your eyes as you let out a loud drawn out sigh.

"Genes.. what can I tell you" He smiled, as you leaned forward pecking his lips softly a few times. His grin seeping into the kiss as you stared at him, your noses touching eachother slightly.

You leaned in, capturing him in a soft kiss, instantly reciprocated as both his hands gripped your waist. You sat in his lap, softly grinding down against him - humming softly within the kiss at the friction.

You noticed his eagerness as his hips would occasionally buckle up against yours, one of his heads to your neck, gripping it softly as he pulled you closer - the pair of you intensely making out.

Your hands raked through his hair, tugging and stroking it as his hand tested with pressure around your neck as you hummed softly, lightly moaning within the kiss.

You pulled away abruptly, looking down as you took him into your hand as you slowly guided him into you as you let out a light and soft moan, which was sounded out by his own moan.

"Fuckkkk-" His head fell backwards as his hands fell upon your waist, guiding you slowly.

You looked down at him, your hands holding his shoulders as you slowly rutted your hips against his, grinding down against him. Watching his face twitch in pleasure as his breathing stuttered at each movement.

"You are so vocal" You laughed, pecking his lips softly as you rested your forehead against his, continuing to grind down against him, watching his body for every single twitched movement.

"Cant help it- Does it bother y-you.." He stared up at you, slightly breathless as he grinned, his eyes half lidded.

"Absolutely not.. turns me on if anything" You chuckled, kissing his cheek softly as you leaned down to nibble on his ear lobe as you continued to ride him.

Nicholas continued to groan in your ear, making you smirk as you speed up your movements, dropping your body weight down against him harshly as you bucked your hips back and forth. Cusses spewed from his lips as you continued to do so. 'Fuck' 'Shit' 'Holy Fuuuck-', continued to fall from his lips as you hummed softly, soft moans leaving yours.

You watched him intently as his eyes rolled back, his eyes staying hooded as he tried to steady his breathing. Smirking as you noticed the effect you had over him, especially how cocky he is normally.

Your movements slowed down as you panted softly, leaning against him for balance and he noticed. Nicholas picked you up, causing you to yelp momentarily as you pushed you up against a desk.

"Getting tired?" He smirked, pressing his hands against the wall behind you, as he thrusted harshly forward - causing you to gulp back a moan. Your fists clenching as you stared up at him.

"I thought-" You groaned, at each thrust he made, pressing your hands against his chest as you steadied your breathing.

"Mhm.. You thought wrong; I was definitely enjoying before, though.." He pecked your lips softly, leaning to your ear. "My turn now" He whispered.

His hands hooked under your thighs, lifting your lower body up slightly as he continued to thrust into you. You yelped out, shutting your eyes as you tried to control yourself from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure, trying hard to not let go so soon. His lips harshly locked against your neck, as he sucked and bit down against the flesh.

"Nicholas-" You gasped out, moaning softly as your fingernails clawed down his back harshly.

"Shhhh" He cooed, as he licked up your neck, his hips continuing to slam against yours as the desk rocked below the pair of you.

"So fucking good- holy-" You gasped, staring at him as you laughed out slightly, his lips curling up into a smile as he continued to thrust, his hands holding your hips up just above the desk as you locked your legs around his waist tightly.

He dropped you harshly against the wood, placing a hand on your neck, kissing you roughly as you raced to reciprocate. His tongue halfway down your throat as your hands slid down his chest, your fingers feeling between the crevises of his sculpted chest. His free hand, cupping your breast as he squeezed it occasionally.

You hummed needingly into the kiss as his thumb pressed pressure against the front of your throat, causing you to tighten - which he felt. You could feel the smirk on his face as he kissed you, his tongue exploring your mouth as you helplessly allowed it.

You felt his whole hand clamp down on your neck with pressure. Your breath hitched for a moment at the sheer shock as he pulled away, your foreheads resting against one another, beads of sweat falling and mixing within each other as you gasped, staring into his eyes as he thrust deeply, holding himself within you.

"...Nick.." you croaked out as he stared at you, his eyes blown out with lust as he leaned in, biting your lip between his teeth as he held his eye contact with you, his thumb still pressed hard against the front of your throat.

He took his free hand, sliding his middle finger and index finger past your lips and into your mouth as you stared at him. You gave him no indication against it which caused his dick to twitch. He began to thrust against yet this time harder but slower. Your body rebounded each time, pushing yourself into the wall that you could've meshed into it. You sucked on his fingers, tugging his hair as you run your hand down his face, caressing it as you let out a guttural moan as he trusted once more.

"Good girl.. cum for me" He whispered, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and removing his hand from your neck as his face flew to yours, your lips instantly crashing upon one another as he gripped your hips, pulling you forward and roughly thrusting into you.

You moaned into his mouth, panting heavily as you drew closer and closer to your high. Your leg twitching as you threw your head back as his lips sucked and nipped at your neck as you screamed out loudly. Your hands clawing down his back as you came undone.

You were too dazed in your high, groaning and panting as Nicholas pulled out, groaning as he pumped himself watching as your whole body twitched.

Your legs flung closed as you stared at him, exhausted as he whined before he came on your thigh, whimpering and panting as he did so, his arm leant against the wall behind you as it supported his weight - his face mere centermeters away.

"Holy fuck-" You chuckled, out of breath as you stared at him.

His chest rose and fell as he stared up at you with hooded eyes. His finger swiping his cum off your thigh as he held it up to you.

You smirked, leaning forward and sucking it off his finger as you looked at him. He smiled at you before pushing himself off the wall as he stumbled back to the couch, laying back on it as he sighed - catching his breath.

"That was more of a workout than my actual workout sessions.. jesus Christ", Nicholas groaned, his arm resting up above him.

You pulled yourself off the desk, your legs slightly wobbly as you slowly approached him. You sat beside his head, lifting it and resting it against your thigh as you sighed.

"I think we've got the sex scene down, don't you.." You laughed, running your fingers through his hair.

"Oh, definitely" He smirked up at you.

It was safe to say, when the pair of you finally caught your breath you showered and got rechanged into your costumes. You had to cover up all the marks on your neck but for Nicholas it was fine, he was already marked by makeup so hopefully no one could tell the difference.

When the pair of you got to set, you definitely delivered the sex scene, going beyond the script. Hair pulling, finger sucking, tit grabbing, ass grabbing - the lot. Safe to say everyone was impressed.

"CUT! That was exactly what we needed, guys!" The director clapped as you and Nicholas stared at each other, panting slightly. You smirked, looking down at the tent under the towel Nicholas was wearing.

"Please don't move- it'll be so fucking embarrassing", Nicholas begged. You chuckled, patting his chest.

[louisa-gc]

how to start reading again

from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.

start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.

don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.

go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.

remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)

analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.

read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.

finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.

try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.

forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.

remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!

stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.

[allllium]

Just an Accident

~ Jason todd x reader who was accidentally hurt

~ Fluff, Jason being dramatic, WC:

~ Inspired by @mostly-imagines

[Thank you guys for being so patient while I finished this and thank you for all likes 💓💓 I really wasn't expecting anything till this was finished. Hope this meets your expectations <3]

Jason tried really hard to keep his secret secret from you but let's be honest, he's very obvious about it. Especially once you meet his family.

After he finally came clean to you about everything, he became even more protective. More protective than you ever thought possible.

He would freak out anytime he didn't know where you were or if you got hurt in any way.

"I'm so so sorry." Bruce says, following you through the mansion repeating his apology.

"It's okay, Bruce, it was an accident." You reply, "I should've known."

Honestly there was no way you could've known that Bruce was creating some elaborate booby trap on the kitchen counter that would fail and smack you in the face when you walked into the kitchen.

It didn't hurt too bad, luckily Bruce was testing things with plastic and not the real materials.

From the look of it though, you'll definitely have a mark on your nose and possibly a bruise under your eye.

"I had no idea it was gonna do that." He continues defending, knowing how Jason will react.

"It's fine, I swear. I know you wouldn't do that on purpose." You walk into the living room and sit down on the couch. Bruce sits next to you.

"Can I get you anything?" He asks. Obviously freaking out.

"No, it's alright. It really doesn't hurt."

"Oh shit." You hear Dick gasp. Coming in through the front door with Tim.

"Oh, what did you do!?" Tim asks, "Jason is gonna kill you."

"It was an accident, everything is fine." You try to calm everyone down.

Seeing that you're okay, Dick can't hold back his laugh.

"Wow, Jason is never gonna trust you again Bruce." Tim hits Dick on the arm and rolls his eyes. To the side of you, Bruce leans forward to hold his head in his hands.

"I think you guys are being a little dramatic. Jason isn't gonna kill him."

"No you seriously underestimate how Jason will react to this." Tim tells you.

"Yeah, remember he almost killed me for making jokes about you when you first got together."

"What?" You turn to Dick in confusion, "I don't remember that."

"Not important," he waves it off, "The point is, we need a plan."

"A plan for what?"

"A plan to hide this from Jason" He tells you, in a tone that screams obvious.

"How would I do that, Dick? I live with him."

"I don't know yet, that's why we need a plan!" He exclaims, pacing in front of the couch.

You roll your eyes, "You're being dramatic."

"No he's not." Bruce says. You fall back into the couch and cross your arms over chest.

"Bruce please. I need at least one of other person here to be an adult."

You can hear Tim laughing as he sits in the chair next to the couch.

"Well, he's right. Jason's gonna be pissed." Bruce shakes his head at you. He stands from the couch and starts pacing with Dick.

"They're gonna make me lose my mind." You mumble under your breath. You run your hands over your face, this childish behavior you're watching isn't what you were expecting from Batman and Nightwing.

Okay to be honest you were definitely expecting this from Dick.

Tim leans over to whisper to you, "You should make a break for it, they're too busy plotting to notice you leave."

"Let me guess," you whisper back, "you've had to make a break for it a couple times?"

"More than you know." He shakes him head and has a serious look on his face.

"Well, have fun with that." You laugh and walk out the front door. Tim was right, both the guys were so busy trying to figure out how to hide you from Jason, they totally forgot to hide you.

You rush home to meet Jason. You were supposed to meet for dinner but obviously you got a little distracted.

"Hey baby." You sigh when you walk through the door. Jason is in the kitchen cooking dinner. Whatever he chose to make, made the whole room smell amazing.

"Hey. What took you so long?"

"I stopped by the mansion to borrow that thing from Alfred but he wasn't there." You tell him, referencing some cooking tool you wanted to make desert for after dinner.

"Where did he go?" You want into the kitchen to see him while you talk.

"I have no idea. I got distracted by something Bruce was doing." You walk over and take a piece of food that he's cutting.

Without looking, he softly smacks your hand away.

"Rude." You laugh.

"This is my sacred space." He puts the knife down and gestures over the whole counter.

"You're ridiculous." You laugh again and kiss him on the cheek.

"How dare you." He puts his hand on his chest in fake offense. Only then does he turn to actually look at you. "What happened?" He immediately asks.

"Oh it's fine, just got smacked with some plastic " Which is apparently not the answer he wanted.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He grabs your face gently and examines the marks on your face.

"It means I got hit with some plastic. But it doesn't hurt." You quickly explain, but he doesn't let go of your face or stop freaking out.

"What plastic?"

"Bruce was experimenting with something and it didn't work."

"He did this?" He lets go off your face to run his hands over his own.

"It was accident. He wouldn't hurt me on purpose and you know that."

"I don't care if it was an accident, you're hurt."

"Jason." You say firmly. He's obviously surprised considering you never use his name to address him. "An accident is an accident and you're not gonna hold this against Bruce. He already apologized and clearly felt bad."

"But you're hurt" He pouts.

You step forward and wrap your arms over his shoulders. "It doesn't hurt. It was just some plastic."

"It left a mark."

"I promise I'm okay. And I want you to promise you won't hurt Bruce for this." You look right into his eyes and do your best to give him a puppy dog look. Which isn't necessary because he can't say no to you anyway.

"Fine I promise I won't hurt him." He presses his forehead to yours, "I'd rather leave him to stew in fear anyway."

You chuckle at his words. "As long as no real harm comes to him I won't stop you from having fun."

"Good." He kisses you once and heads back to make dinner. You have no doubt Jason would ever actually hurt Bruce over something so small but you'd rather be safe than sorry.

Hopefully this'll stop Dick and Bruce acting like absolutely children in the future.

Yeah that'll never happen.

Not even 10 minutes after finishing dinner you get a call from Dick.

"How dare you?" He asks the moment you answer the phone. "You're a traitor."

"Again with the dramatics Dick. You can't stop me from going home."

"Let me guess Jason's on his way here to get some revenge right now." He says in a very childish and fearful tone.

"No! I was right, you guys are way more dramatic than you should be and he has no intention of killing anyone." Jason looks at you as you talk to his brother. Clearly wondering what he has to do with this situation.

"I don't believe you. You've shown where your loyalty lies."

"Why are you talking like I'm an enemy or something?"

"Maybe you are! How should I know?"

"Okay you're right." You decide to play along, "I couldn't stop him from wanting to kill Bruce, he's on his way there right now."

Jason furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

"I knew it! Mark my words one day-"

His voice cuts off when you hang up.

"There is something severely wrong with your entire family." You tell Jason with a blank face.

"Yeah I know." He puts his arm over your shoulder and pulls you into him.

Hmm you wonder how long it takes till Dick realizes you lied.

[beef-brisket]

Lucifer walked down an hour or so later with a warm bottle. He was thinking of letting Adam feed his daughter.

He could hear Adam speaking before opening the door. When he did, he looked at the scene in front of him.

Adam was leaning against the bedframe, his knees brought to his chest. Avery was lying on his knees, her arms waving as Adam spoke. She was making the sweetest noises.

He was talking about Eden. Lucifer's eyes narrowed as he listened, he hasn't been noticed yet.

Adam: There was every plant you could imagine. Some even looked a bit weird- but they were cool. I bet you would have loved liriope. Their flowers are funny looking.

Lucifer eyes softened when we heard his daughter babble and squirm. Arm was moving her little arms around, which she seemed to love.

She was definitely a kicker. If Adam was any closer, his chest or face would be in reach.

Adam: Mm, that's why my ribs hurt~. Yes it is~.

Lucifer: Adam.

Adam tensed at looked at Lucifer: What?

Lucifer lifted the bottle up and walked over to him.

Lucifer held it iut in front of him: Think you can handle it~?

Adam rolled his eyes and took the bottle: I've raised kids in worse places than this, bitch. Don't fucking patronize me.

Adam glared as Lucifer sat on the bed next to him and played his daughters foot. Adam wouldn't mind. But he does mine. Very much so.

Lucifer was shaking his leg, rapidly moving it up and down, shaking Adam's bed slightly.

Adam's eye twitched, but he didn't say anything.

And the fucker stick of fucking apples. Adam has no idea how that's possible, but he reeks, and it's giving Adam a headache.

With a sigh, he rests his daughter in his arms and starts feeding her.

Lucifer: ...does that look right?

Adam: Your face isn't going to look right, in a minute. So piss off. I know what I'm doing-.

Lucifer: I'm just worried that it's been a good nine thousand years since you had a kid, let alone a baby.

Adam: Sure, but I have nine hundred kids, Lucifer. You don't just forget that shit.

Lucifer: Alright. Fair enough. I'll trust you.

Adam: I'm not asking you to trust me, I'm asking you to fuck off and give me room to feed her- and stop shaking your damn leg!

Lucifer smirked at Adam before standing.

Lucifer: Someone's testy.

Adam: Oh gee, I wonder if it's because you broke my nose earlier. Hmm, is that the reason? Or is it because you've locked me in some- basement ass room. OR are you dealing with your own inadequacies because you're slowly realizing how much better a father I am than you?

Lucifer glared at Adam, his eye twitching. That only made Adam smile.

Adam: Or all of the above?

Lucifer: ...Just- hurry up and feed her so I can bring g her upstairs. It's hard to breath, with you polluting the air.

Adam rolled his eyes and looked back down at his daughter as she finished. He puts the bottle down and rests her on his collar bone, and pats her back. He glanced and saw the expression Lucifer had while watching them.

Adam: ...I'm burping her, of you want to know.

Lucifer: I know what you're doing... I'm allowed to watch.

Adam: If that's the case, could you do it without that stupid look on your face? It's scaring Avery. And me, for that matter.

Lucifer: Listen here, PIG. You will not speak-.

Hus daughter burped a couple of times before babbling and waving her arms around as best she could.

Adam: There you go, love. Ignore him. Just do your thing.

Lucifer: Ignore me? Really?

Adam: Really.

Adam kisses his daughter a few times before she yawns.

He smiles, but it drops as he softly hands her to Lucifer.

Adam: Be careful.

Lucifer: Don't tell me to be careful. She's my second daughter.

Adam: And she's my 514th daughter. What about it?

Lucifer: ...just get some sleep. Or whatever you do.

Adam glared as Lucifer walked back to the door. He didn't look back as he closed it. Adam sighed and decided to test how long this chain is. That, and he needed to move around.

Adam: Asshole...

What about an au where Adam goes to Hell for night trips, wher ehe just parties and fucks. He has a disguise (it's just a slightly different looking helmet).

Lucifer joins his daughter and her friends at a bar, where he sees "Adam". He instantly knows it's him, but he's curious as to what he's doing.

So Lucifer spends hours flitting with him and buying him drinks to get him drunk. But Lucifer actually finds himself having a great time.

Long story short- they fuck, Adam doesn't let Lucifer know he's Adam. He goes back to Heaven and after a few months, he finds out he's pregnant.

Which is fucking weird cause he's definitely a dude, and he's very dead. But Lucifer's the Devil 🤷.

He basically has to play it off as him getting fat. It's working until the next meeting with Lucifer happens during his ninth month, and he's goes into labor right in front of Lucifer.

Lucifer: Why didn't you tell me your were fucking pregnant!?

Adam: Because you didn't know it was me!!

Lucifer: Yes I did! You have the same face!

Adam: ..... Oh..

[amazinglyashy]

Too heavy for me? Never

LADS men reaction to you only somewhat joking about being too heavy for them

Sylus -

He'll raise an eyebrow at you, staring down at you as you realize the joke fell flat. You try to back peddle, not wanting to cause any confrontation that never helps you feel better about your body anyway, but he simply holds up a hand to stop you with a shake of his head.

"I don't want to hear it, sweetie. I already know the nonsense you're going to say. How about you just come with me right now to the gym instead?"

You don't know how to tell him that saying that truly shattered your heart into a million pieces, so you just follow him in silence instead. You didn't think he would insult you so casually, and you were now trying to brace yourself for the inadequate feelings and self-loathing you were about to experience by having to train at the gym with him.

But... he didn't ask you to do a workout. He didn't tell you to get on a piece of equipment or to lie down on a mat for a physical exercise.

He told you to sit on a small bench against the wall while he went to the free weights close by.

Wordlessly, he loads weights- two- no, three times your weight onto the bar, before moving to lift it. Once. Twice. Again, and again and again-

His eyes flicker over to you at some point, and instead of making any remark or reference to the emotions clear across your face, he flashes you a slight smirk, just like he always does.

"Have I made myself clear, sweetie?"

Zayne -

Zayne will definitely think you're just pretending to be stupid at first.

He will look down at you with his brows furrowed and a small smile creeping on his lips, thinking it's all a joke.

"I lift myself during my workouts fairly easily, and I am capable of lifting a lot more. Quite funny, though I wouldn't make this form of humor a habit. It isn't particularly good for your mental health."

Then he realizes you're actually being serious in what you're saying.

He's upset, to put it lightly, but hes trying not to let it show. Favoring a small frown across his usually firm expression as he studies your face. Your heart will jolt just a little bit when you process just how sad his eyes look though... obviously he's hurt that you would even think something like that about yourself, much less come to believe it as true.

"Allowing a part of your brain to lie to you is not healthy if you don't push back with the truth. And the truth here, is that you are nowhere near too heavy for me to lift or carrying, even for prolonged periods of time. To demonstrate-"

And like it's nothing, he's picking you up and carrying you. His destination is not important, and the protests spewing from your lips fall on deaf ears as you try to gentle squirm out of his grasp. He'll continue to explain why your viewpoint is flawed, methodically and with logic, and in a way that you find yourself unable to argue back.

He doesn't want you to.

He knows you're wrong, and he will stop at nothing to prove it.

Xavier -

He's more surprised at the statement than anything. At first, he thinks you're making a jab at his strength, and wonders if he slipped up in front of one too many Wanderers and now needs to prove himself just to get you to stop teasing him for being 'weak'.

Once he (quickly) realizes that you're talking about yourself, jabbing at your own body and state, rather than at him, it's like a spark igniting in him.

"What? What would ever make you think that? No- that's not right. That's not right at all."

He's immediately going to try and grab you to lift you up, he doesn't care where you both are or what you're doing. Even if you've just woken up in bed and are still relaxing, he's trying to pick you up right then and there.

He stumbles trying to lift you, falling backward onto the pile of blankets and plushies that has taken over his bed. He feels awful, worried that you'll take his misstep as him falling over from your weight, immediately apologizing and trying to sit up and pick you up again before falling forward from the plush surface he's trying to rise on giving out too much beneath him.

You're both a giggling mess by then, and it's obvious to you that he's going to keep trying to prove it to you, just... a bit clumsily so. Several more attempts will be made as the evening goes on, and pretty soon he's showing you just how easily it is for him to lift you up- especially if he keeps doing it over and over and over again.

And he will continue to do it over and over and over again, even after today. As many times as it takes.

Rafayel -

You definitely made a mistake saying anything self-depreciating around him. Especially with how much he likes to prove you wrong in playful situations, this is something similar, but a lot more serious to him.

He'll make fun of you for anything, as long as you know he's just being lighthearted even if he's grumpy or upset when he fires a quip off at you.

But the second you agree with him, or say something bad about yourself- whether jokingly or dead serious- the gloves are off. He won't accept that from you, and he's already on it to figure out how to turn the opinion you've formed of yourself on it's head and into a more positive outlook.

Lifts you up bridal carry while spinning- quite literally sweeping you off your feet while he whisks you away. You would think you were a princess with how he spins around his studio with you in his arms, with no regard to the paintings or projects around him as he dances with you in his arms. And no matter how hard you protest, he doesn't stop until he feels for himself that he's done enough, giggling the entire time.

"Are you really going to doubt a sea god's strength? Geez, I didn't realize you were such a rude human."

He'll hold you up enough to press his forehead against yours, nuzzling against you with a smile, the slightest sadness playing across his expression.

"Man, I must be pretty lousy that you would ever think something like that about yourself. That must mean I don't think to pick you up enough like you deserve. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you by whisking you away every chance I see you from now on."

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

141 as your drug dealer boyfriend

Ghost- Let's be real with ourselves, Ghost is not a good man. He doesn't care who he hurts, as long as he gets his. He will do anything to get what he wants and there is no stopping him. It's what made him a great soldier, and it's what makes him a great kingpin. He moves weight to put it lightly. There isn't a moment where an uncut key is unmoving; from a warehouse, to a plane (or car, or train), to a distributor, to a pusher, to up someone's nose. He'll try to do some damage control, make sure things aren't cut with fent, but that's only to make sure customers keep coming back. He likes to keep his hands clean, in the sense that he'll never be the one to pull the trigger on anyone that's out of line. Living up to his name, no one knows what he looks like. Hell, a lot of people don't even think he's real.

But when it comes to you, Simon's a different man. No talk about work, just you and him. Other than the multiple hidden guns around the house and Glock he sleeps with, life is normal with you. Holiday homes in the French countryside and Bahamas. Designer everything. Sports cars in all your favorite colors. You want for nothing. It's the life he wanted for you. After all those years of crying and hurt when he was away for weeks or months, you deserved the world. Want the new Hermès bag? You got it. Can't choose between the black or white louboutins? Get both. Stop eating you out because you can't feel your toes anymore? Sorry love, only thing he can't do for you.

Soap- Johnny is a small business owner. Weighs everything out by his own hand. Presses his own pills. Let's you help baggie everything up. A social butterfly, this man is at every concert, rave, or music festival. Sometimes he has a friend help push his stuff when he just wants to stay home with you, but for the most part he's his own salesman. And a damn good one. Never has overstock. No matter how much he brings with him, he'll always sellout.

Has a supernatural sense of being shorted. Can tell if a bag is even a few grams off just by holding it.

"Ye'r an idiot if ye think ye kin short me."

And when the other party denies, he always keeps a pocket scale on him, setting the parcel on it. And sure enough, he's always right.

He'll come home with a few grand, the only job you have is to sit there and look pretty. And roll his spliffs. Sitting in his lap, tucking the rolling paper into itself and licking it closed while he counts out a fat wad of cash. He hands you a fat stack,

"A've never bin good wi' money. Ye know how to spend it better than me."

He never touches the stuff he sells, no need to when all the dopamine he needs is right between your legs.

"Ten times better than any o tha' shite, anyways."

He pants in your ear while folding you in half, firm grip on your throat.

Gaz- When it comes to psychedelics, Kyle is your go-to man. He's a fucking genius, synthesizes his own DMT and LSD in a lab. It's a state of the art facility, clean with the latest and greatest equipment available. He supplies the whole Northeast. If it's a hallucinogen, it's most likely Gaz's product. And if it's good, it's definitely his. He has a cozy set up with some "organization" that he cooks for. Steers clear of actually selling to people, no need to when his clients line his pockets so well. Never brings work home, he even wears different clothes when he's in the lab.

He has a set schedule he has to adhere to but sometimes he's able to take vacations with you. And that's how you ended up bent over a balcony watching the sunset in Punta Cana,

"I work so hard to make you happy, now it's my turn yeah?"

A breeze sends a shiver up your spine while he kisses your shoulder,

"I know a private beach where you can even out those tan lines,"

Of course he doesn't give a shit about that, he just wants to fuck you silly on the seaside (and show off to anyone who might be watching.)

Price- Caring and nurturing, the man naturally has a green thumb. And alongside his prized heirloom tomatoes, he grows really, really good weed. Has a whole growroom in his basement, decked out with proper ventilation, ACs, UV lights, the works. The man grows medical grade weed that private clinics buy from him. He's legit. And of course he serves the public as well under the table, sells only to people he knows and established clients can refer others to him. He treats his plants like his babies, even going as far as to play music for them (according to him classical music helps them grow better???). You don't know where he finds the time, but he also made you rose garden for your anniversary. He brings up the idea of a family every so often. He'll finish as deep inside of you as possible,

"Let's replace that plant nursery for a real one, yeah love?"

Gonna write actual stories for each one if y'all like this ( . * 3 * . )/`

[xinganhao]

🌶️ svt 'booty call' texts.

anon → "SVT booty call texts, if that's okay?"

⌗ ┆🔞 contains suggestive/explicit language and imagery.

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: suggestive themes, use of pet names, situationship vibesss, sexual innuendos, [short] headcanons under the cut. open to requests!

🌶️ headcanons .ᐟ

seungcheol ♡ will make this booty call happen, come hell or high water. holds grudges if your plans fall through. cocky about being wrapped around your finger. "you make me feel so damn good, baby. can't help but keep coming back to ya."

jeonghan ♡ has the tendency to drop in without warning. loves it when you get annoyed and start bossing him around. more than willing to submit to you on your rendezvouses. "whatever you want— you'll have it, i swear."

joshua ♡ sweet, still, even in settings like this. enjoys the aftercare just as much (or even more) as he loves the sex. always makes sure you finish first. "let me take care of you, darling. i know i don't have to, but i want to."

junhui ♡ says he's only over to 'talk', but that will last for all of 15 minutes before he has you underneath him. smooth talker when he's trying to get what he wants. can get really in to dirty talk when the situation calls for it. "look at you— all wet after pretending not to want me. the body doesn't lie, sweets."

soonyoung ♡ a bit silly in his bids to get your attention. the most eager out of everyone when he's in bed with you. has the tendency to leave marks. "sorry, babe, but i don't know when i'm gonna get you again. gotta make sure you remember who you belong to, yeah?"

wonwoo ♡ acts cool and nonchalant but is also the first to crack when you're together. makes you do most of the work; always rewards you afterwards, though. likes watching your face as you ride him. "that's right, nice and slow. you can take all of me, can't you? good."

jihoon ♡ usually makes these calls when he's stressed out from work. would be happy to just have you in his lap as he tries to get things done. takes a lot of pride in how his fingers drive you crazy. "you have to stop squirming, or else i'm going to have to take my hand away."

mingyu ♡ thirst traps to get your attention. the perfect definition of someone who can dish it out but can't take it: loves teasing you, but is sooner to be on his knees asking for you to give him a shot. will take you anywhere, any time; it thrills him more than he cares to admit. "gotta be quiet, princess— can't have 'em knowing you're being fucked dumb right now—"

seokmin ♡ may seem cutesy, but don't be fooled. will take you on every surface of your apartment, given the chance. always asks if he can film parts of your exploits for 'personal use'. "you don't mind; do you, love? just want something to look back on when i'm away from you."

minghao ♡ just the right amount of cocky that it's an endearing type of confidence. gives as much as he takes. more focused on 'love-making' than anything hurried or rough. "i'm taking my time with you, because i'm having you again, and again, and again tonight—"

seungkwan ♡ most likely to actually have some nice conversation/a little sort of date with you before making a move. willing to try practically anything at least once. worships you. "god, but you're so perfect. you're everything. please, let me have you. please."

vernon ♡ isn't really the pick-up line type, so he's very straightforward about anything he wants. loves foreplay so much that it's kind of ridiculous. has a thing about the two of you finishing at the same time. "ah, i'm close— are you, too? can you—? can we—?"

chan ♡ doesn't like letting on how badly he needs you, but he does. insane stamina, so he'll keep on going until you're begging him to stop. likes taking the lead and ordering you around. "keep your eyes on me, baby. and no finishing until i tell you to. can you do that? perfect."

[yeahxsurexokay13]

bragger, lando norris

summary: fans constantly tease yn for always bringing lando up and being a bit of a simp for her boyfriend - which only gets worse after his first f1 win - so she writes a song about how if they were her they'd do the same.

warnings: none i think??? but let me know if i missed any. the song mentioned is 'bragger' by kelsea ballerini!! (((:

IN HONOUR OF LANDO'S VERY FIRST WIN !! 🥇

y/n.updates

Liked by fan22 and 1.340 others

y/n.updates Y/n's interview with WIRED where she answers the web's most searched questions about her is now out! Go give it a watch 😄

view all 208 comments

fan1 she looked painfully beautiful in this

fan2 how was lando in the answer for questions like 'does y/n speak spanish?' or 'is y/n a good singer?' lol

fan7 she said she didn't remember much from high school but knew some words lando had been taught by carlos sainz and that her boyfriend tells her she is... it kind of isn't that weird if u think about it haha

user1 The more I see of her, the more I like her

fan7 i spy with my little eye 1.6K people with no taste

fan3 interview was everything I hoped for and more! she's hilarious and relatable as always

fan4 new drinking game: take a shot every time she mentions lando

fan5 I've watched it like 5 times already lol

fan6 we need a tally for how many times Y/n drops 'Lando' in her interviews. can someone make that happen?

y/n.y/l

Liked by carlossainz55 and 1.890.321 others

y/n.y/l the vibe i bring to the function (ugly crying on facetime) !!! so incredibly happy for you @/landonorris. you did it 🧡🧡🧡

view all 3.501 comments

y/n.y/l also congrats @/oscarpiastri and everyone else at mclaren for an amazing race ((((:

oscarpiastri thank you Y/n! 🧡 ❤️ by author

landofan4 ok this is very cute and nice of her🥺🥺

fan1 ARE YOU STILL CRYING ? BECAUSE I AM DEFINITELY STILL CRYING

y/n.y/l started crying on lap 54 and haven't stopped since

fan2 new post from my fave lando norris fan account yay (also go lando!!!!!!)

user1 Well deserved 👏🏼👏🏼

landofan3 soy lago

y/n.y/l same

lnfour LFGGGG ❤️ by author

fan3 How many times do you think Y/n's going to mention Lando's win in the next week? Taking bets now

maxfewtrell It's the messy hair and smudged mascara for me

y/n.y/l knew i should've gone for the 'perfectly composed while crying' look instead 😔

landofan1 rip lando nowins: 2019-2024 ❤️ by author

landofan2 "you were scared? i wasn't. i was ok (laughs). thank you. i love you" lando 🥹🥹🥹

fan5 when did he say that? omg

landofan2 f1 posted a reel on their profile and you can hear him talking to her!

mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER 🏆

y/n.y/l I AM SO NOT CALM ABOUT THIS ??!!?

user2 i could've sworn i saw her at the race? why are they facetiming?

fan4 they could barely speak after the win tbh! this is probably a call in between interviews

user2 today's bottle smash hit different ❤️ by author

landonorris I've said this like a million times already today but I love you so much

y/n.y/l i love you i love you i love you i love you

y/n.y/l

Liked by pietra.pilao and 1.809.896 others

y/n.y/l if he was yours, you'd do the same without apologising... new single 'bragger' out now!!!! 💋💋

view all 3.890 comments

fan6 WHAT HAPPENED TO HWLLO ?? HOW ARE YIU ??

y/n.y/l 🫢🫢

fan1 "he's just too damn good not to mention" .....................i mean she is right we'll give that to her ❤️ by author

landofan1 USING THESE SPECIFIC PICS OF LANDO TO ANNOUNCE THE RELEASE OF A SINGLE ABOUT BRAGGING ABOUT HIM IS WILD !!!!

landofan5 that last video is doing things to me.........

landonorris i'm confused does anyone know who this is about?

y/n.y/l no idea 🤷🏽‍♀️ but let me know if you find out xx

landofan4 apparently about some guy named bob?? I'm not sure

fan8 HAHAHA I LOVE THEM

fan2 she really wanted to make sure she'd made her point clear with this dump omfg

fan3 her point: she has a hot bf and we don't

user1 Well played, Y/N. Well played. 🥸

fracisca.cgomes On repeat ❤️❤️

y/n.y/l lindaaaaaaa ❤️

landofan2 knowing all she's saying is about lando makes the song x1000 times better

fan7 so she saw the tweets... 😐

y/n.y/l i saw everything 👀 they were actually hard to miss hahaha

user2 "i understand why you would want him (i don't mind)" queen behaviour !!!!!! 👑👑

fan4 So this is how she gets back at us for all the teasing lol not complaining at all

landofan3 I can't believe this new song is actually inspired by the fans' teasing about Lando!!🤣

fan5 we joked, she delivered!!! bragger is actually a banger👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

[kayveleth]

Let's start with an exercise. I want you to say, "I want to be a mindless fuckdoll" out loud. Say it normally, as though you were stating your choice of beverage. It requires equally little thought. You've spent plenty of time exploring your other choices, and "mindless fuckdoll" is definitely your favorite. If I ask you what you want to be, the words "I want to be a mindless fuckdoll" will tumble from your mouth with the ease of your name or your birthday. That doesn't have to happen yet, though. You've simply decided that "mindless fuckdoll" is what your end goal is.

In order to help with that, at the end of every sentence, I'd like you to say the phrase "mindless fuckdoll" in as casual a way you can. Mindless fuckdoll. Don't try to sound sexy or blank. Mindless fuckdoll. Just say it normally. Mindless fuckdoll. Over and over. Mindless fuckdoll. With each sentence. Mindless fuckdoll. I want you to get used to saying it. Mindless fuckdoll. I want it to become almost a habit. Mindless fuckdoll. You know, the more you use a muscle in a specific way. Mindless fuckdoll. The more readily your body does it each time. Mindless fuckdoll. And the less your conscious mind needs to be devoted to doing it.Mindless fuckdoll. Can you remember every time you brushed your teeth or buckled a seatbelt? Mindless fuckdoll. No, because eventually these became ingrained activities. Mindless fuckdoll. And you didn't have to think about them at all after a while. Mindless fuckdoll. And that's what you're doing right now. Mindless fuckdoll. You're training your mouth to say

"mindless fuckdoll" without even needing to think about it. Mindless fuckdoll. It's becoming muscle memory. Mindless fuckdoll. And now it's gotten so easy, that you don't need to be reminded to say "mindless fuckdoll." You just continue saying "mindless fuckdoll." This won't turn you into a mindless fuckdoll yet. It will take a bit of time to remove the rest of the brain and body that are needed for your everyday necessities. But the more you hear yourself say it, the more used to it you become.

We'll start with your sense of responsibility. You have many of those things. They range from massive to minuscule. Some days you may have to make a tough decision at work. Some days, you may just have to get all of your laundry done. But when you're a mindless fuckdoll, you won't have to think about any of that. Won't that be fantastic? Nod your head. Now take a deep breath in... and happily sigh away your responsibilities.

Next, let's get rid of your sense of modesty. Normally, you have to negotiate societal norms of dress and behavior. You have to figure out the ever-changing lines of social acceptability to try to maintain your relationships with people. And that can be fucking exhausting. But that's another great thing being a mindless fuckdoll. Mindless fuckdolls wear what they're told to wear and behave how they're told to behave. Isn't it great to not worry about that anymore? Nod and smile. Take a deep breath in... and happily sigh away your modesty.

Now, finally, we will do away with your sense of self. You spend so much time worrying about yourself and your relation to others. How your actions define you. How your decisions have consequences. But you want to be a mindless fuckdoll. And mindless fuckdolls don't make decisions. Mindless fuckdolls exist to be used and useful. That is your dream, isn't it? Smile and nod. Take a deep breath... and happily sigh away your sense of self.

Now there should still be a few scraps of your mind remaining. It's always so difficult to blow out all the candles at once, isn't it? Nod and smile. Now, to get rid of that pesky little brain, want you to imagine something for me. want you to imagine yourself stepping on an elevator on the tenth floor of a building. This elevator is your mind. The tenth floor is where all your everyday thinking and behavior work. The doors close and your mind is closed to your thoughts and will. You look up and see a digital display reading the number 10 in red numerals. The elevator is going to go down, floor by floor. Your mind will fall deeper into trance with each floor. deeper with each number until I reach 1. And with each number, you will say "I want to be a mindless fuckdoll." You will believe it more each time, as it flashes into your head like a fireworks display. And now, you feel the elevator begin to move down. Your heart flutters a little in anticipation, but there's no going back now. And you don't want to go back now anyway. Mindless fuckdoll. The elevator comes to a halt and the display reads

9

The doors open and you realize that this floor is full of nothing but obedience, and now the elevator that is your mind has been flooded by the orange gas of obedience. There's nothing in your mind now except obedience. That's good though. Mindless fuckdolls should be obedient. Mindless fuckdolls love to be useful. Mindless fuckdolls live to serve. And you want to be a mindless fuckdoll, don't you? Nod and smile. The elevator doors close, but your mind is still permeated with obedience. The elevator moves and stops again. The indicator reads

8

The doors open and this floor contains submission. Now your mind is flooded with the blue gas of it, filling you with the knowledge that you are just a helpless toy in the grasp of someone else. You yield to your superiors, and everyone is superior to a mindless fuckdoll. And you like knowing that, don't you? Smile and nod. Mindless fuckdoll. Now the doors shut, but the elevator is full of blue and orange vapor, swirling together. And that's right. That's how it should be. Obedience and submission go perfectly together. The elevator moves down again and again comes to a halt. The display says

7

This is the floor where your arousal is kept. The pink gas rolls in and you are overwhelmed by it. Your eyes roll back in your head for a moment as the pleasurable sensations take over your mind and body. Your nipples harden and your cunt drools. You get excited at the idea of being a mindless fuckdoll, don't you? Nod and smile. The doors close, and now there's pink gas in here, too, with the blue and orange, keeping your mind and body aroused, submissive, and obedient. The elevator moves down to the next floor and stops. The display reads

6

The doors open and in pours the white gas of blankness. Mindless fuckdolls don't think. They have nothing to think with. Their brains are clean chalkboards for anyone to write on. Your last few stray thoughts are swallowed up by this intense blankness. Then the doors shut, but you barely notice. Now your head is filled with obedience, arousal, submission, and blankness. And those are all good things, aren't they? Smile and nod. The elevator moves again and stops at the next floor. The counter says

5

You're halfway to being a mindless fuckdoll. The lower you go, the more intense everything becomes. The doors open and a bright yellow vapor rolls in. This is the happiness floor! Your mind is filled with pure joy. The ecstasy of becoming a mindless fuckdoll is overwhelming and you can't keep a big smile from your face, can you? Nod and smile. The doors shut, and that makes you happy. Everything makes you happy. Your mind is filled with lovely gasses of so many colors now, swirling around each other. Orange and pink and blue and white and yellow. You're so happy, and obedient. So aroused and submissive. And so, so blank. You don't even feel the elevator move anymore. Just suddenly, the floor indicator reads:

4

The doors open and you are engulfed in a green gas of silliness. You giggle as it hits you, and that's okay. Mindless fuckdolls have to do some very silly and stupid things sometimes. And now, the siliness is part of you. Make a silly noise for me and giggle at yourself. Isn't that fun? Smile and nod. The door closes and you are silly and happy, blank and submissive, aroused and obedient. But it's so easy to be all these things because these are the ingredients of a mindless fuckdoll. And you want to be a mindless fuckdoll. The digital display that you're helplessly staring at reads

3

The doors open and a purple fog surrounds you. You instantly feel your skin come alive with pleasure. This is the floor of sensitivity. Your nerves are primed for pleasure at the slightest touch, at the tiniest little brush. Every hole begs to be filled. Your pussy is so sensitive that you could probably cum from a soft breeze. You looove being so ready for pleasure, don't you? Nod and smile. The doors shut and you are so close to the bottom. Your mind is so blank and silly. So submissive and aroused. So obedient and happy. And you're so sensitive to pleasure. Only one more floor before you hit the bottom. And in no time, that mesmerizing floor indicator reads

2

The doors open all you an see is red. This is the lust floor, and you are instantly filled with a burning need. You NEED to obey. You NEED to submit. You NEED to be blank. You NEED to be silly. You NEED to be sensitive. You NEED to be happy. You NEED to be aroused. These are not options for you. You are consumed by lust and it intensifies everything. Nothing can stop you. You ache for it. You hunger for it now, and you can't stop can you? Smile wide and nod emphatically. Say "Uh-huh" and moan in beautiful agony of lust. The doors close and you know that it's all over. This last floor will complete your transformation into a mindless fuckdoll and there's no way to stop now. Your mind is a rainbow of colors: blue and green and pink and red and orange and white and purple and yellow. They swirl and dance, filling you with all the right ingredients for a mindless fuckdoll. And as you hungrily stare at the indicator, it changes to read

1

The doors open one last time and you are surrounded by millions of tiny bubbles. A mindless fuckdoll's head should be filled with bubbles. They reflect all of the colors swirling in your mind so that you see a glistening shiny rainbow wherever you look. And when they pop, you giggle. The bubbles keep coming in until your feet leave the floor. You are literally floating on the bubbles in your head. Any contact with what used to be your mind is lost as you float and drift away.

You did it. You're a mindless fuckdoll. Say that out loud. "I'm a mindless fuckdoll." It's so wonderful to be a mindless fuckdoll. One of the best parts of being a mindless fuckdoll is that you get to be mindless. Mindless things have no mind. And the other great part is, you get to be a fuckdoll. Fuckdolls are brainless beings to begin with. Like any doll, you have no thoughts, no will of your own. You just sit there, with a fixed expression on your face, ready to be played with. Your head is empty, waiting to be filled. Filled with commands and cum and anything else that will make you horny. Because you're a fuckdoll. And fuckdolls are horny. Your brain is gone. Your mouth is open and drooling. Your pussy is drooling, too, and begging to be touched. Your hands and feet, your arms and legs, your tits and ass, are all aching to be of service. Your mouth may groan or moan or grunt all on it's own, but you don't notice. You're too mindless to notice anything but your body and your commands.

Now, when you finish reading this, mindless fuckdoll, your eyes will glaze over. eventually your body will succumb to the lust and you will start to masturbate while repeating the phrase "mindless fuckdoll" over and over until you cum. And when you cum, you will cum harder than you ever have before. Because you are a mindless fuckdoll, and mindless fuckdolls are made to cum. After you cum, you will text me and you will obey any command given to you by me.

feeling better than ever and ready to become a mindless fuckdoll that much more easily next time.

[mouthfullofmunson]

Dirty little secret

Summary: Eddie is in desperate need of a fake girlfriend after lying to his band mates about his dream girl.

Warnings: so extremely cheesy, corny, very much classic romcom tropes! Swearing, smut :p not exactly proofread!!

Wc: 11.5k

Y/n walks home, soft rain pattering on the concrete, she watches the drops splash on her black boots. After a long shift at the hideout all she wants to do is get back home to her cozy apartment where she can wash the liquor scent off of her and become useless on her couch.

“Hey, you!” She adjusts her tiny headphones, turning up the volume on her Walkman to drown out any noise around her. “Hey!” She walks a little faster when she spots a van out of her peripheral vision. The van drives slowly, matching her speed. “Hey!” She finally pulls one headphone away from her ear, turning to look at the man.

“What?!” His eyes widen for a second before they return back to normal. “You work at the bar right? The hideout?” She gives him a skeptical look, either he is a regular or a stalker and she doesn’t have the time for either. “Why should I tell you?!” The wavy haired man softly laughs, his ringed hand tapping on the exterior of the old van. “I see you there all the time.”

“Hm…well maybe you’re thinking of someone else?” Y/n picks back up and continues her walk home, but not before she's stopped again. “I need you to do me a favor!” She slowly turns her head back to him, trying to decide if she should give him the time of day or continue on home. “Before you call me crazy and run away, I’m Eddie, my band plays at the hideout every tuesday- you've worked a couple shifts when we play.”

She huffs, but ultimately decides that he might have something valuable to say. “Yeah, so what?”

“So,” he pulls the key out of his van and steps out, feeling the relief of his jeans clad legs finally being stretched. “Just hear me out before you say anything, okay? Basically I'm like the only single one in my band so I kind of…maybe told them that I have a girlfriend?” Eddie finally ends his spell and waits for Y/n’s response. She tosses her arms out a little, letting her hands slap back on her legs. “Sorry about that. What does this have to do with me?”

Eddie gives her a smile, “And that’s where you come in. You are… close enough to the description of what I gave them. So what do you say? Will you be my fake girlfriend?” She blinks at him, her eyes bugging out in disbelief of what she’s hearing. She scoffs, not being able to form any words. Gulping, she finally musters up a response to this maniac. “Are you serious?! What’s wrong with you? We hardly know each other.” She rubs her forehead, looking back down at the sidewalk.

“Well, yeah. I need this, I’ll pay you back! I’m not sure how, but I promise I’ll make it up to you! And who wouldn’t want to have this.” His hands scan his body, trying to show off what a prize he is. Y/n shakes her head, not that this isn't interesting, and maybe the drama of it all will spice up her ever so boring life of sleeping and working, but she still isn’t sure. “I’ll have to think about it. I’ll call you!”

And with that she makes her way back to her apartment.

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Y/n’s been thinking a lot about that strange encounter with Eddie earlier. He wasn’t a complete stranger, She’s been there a couple times when his band was playing a gig at the hideout but they’ve never had more than a five sentence conversation. She’s gotten into a bad loop of sleeping, working, sleeping, working, she hardly sees friends anymore and she definitely isn’t going out of her way to make any fun just herself, so fake dating really didn’t seem too bad. Maybe this will get her out of the house, and add a little excitement.

She flops open the phone book, finding Eddie’s number and dialing it. She waits for him to pick up, sitting on the counter, picking at her nails. He finally answers and her ear is instantly flooded with the sound of his raspy, sleepy voice. She has to admit, when she heard his tired voice she felt her breath hitch a little.

“What do you want?” He almost growls, his sleepy eyes growing heavier by the second, threatening to close and send him back into a deep sleep. “It’s me, Y/n. I was thinking about our conversation earlier.”

Eddie blinks his eyes back open, “So you call me at one in the morning? Couldn’t this have waited?” Y/n rolls her eyes, but damns herself for continuing to ignore the healthy sleep schedule she so desperately needs. “Well, I was going to agree to it. But maybe it’s just one of those crazy one AM thoughts. Who knows?”

Eddie rubs his hand over his face, rolling his eyes. “Are you doing it or what?” She waits a best before responding, to give herself a second longer to really think it through- but mainly just to leave Eddie waiting. “I’m doing it. But we need to lay down some ground rules. I’ll come over at two tomorrow-“ suddenly she’s interrupted by Eddie’s groggy voice “don’t you mean today?” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “I’ll see you at two.”

And just like that, she’s fake dating Eddie Munson.

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Y/n knocks on the door or Eddie’s trailer, patiently waiting to hear him walking towards the door. He flings open the door, standing in a pair of sweatpants with his plaid boxers coming out and a cut off tank top with his lower belly slightly peeking out from his hand resting at the top of the door frame.

“Come on in.” His free hand glides out to show her the way and he lets her step inside before shutting the door behind her. “This is my palace. Take a seat on the couch and I’ll be back with refreshments.” He walks down the hallway and soon joins Y/n on the couch with a cigarette between his lips, offering her one then lighting his own. “No thanks.” She moves the pack away from her and sits her bag in her lap.

“What did you call this meeting for?” He pulls his cigarette away from his lips, letting out the white Smokey air.

“If we are going to fake date we are going to do it my way.” Eddie glances at her without moving his head, then looks right back at the television. “We need to ease into it, not packing on the PDA right off the bat, but also seeming comfortable around each other. And I think it would help if we did some sort of test run, maybe I could properly meet these bandmates of yours before we jump in?”

Eddie ashes his cigarette, “Did you major in fake dating or something?”

“Haha, very funny asshole. Do you want to do this or not? You’re trying to act smug but you’re the one who had to lie to his friends about having a girlfriend.” Eddie lets out a sigh, extending his response by taking a long drag from his cigarette. “You’ll properly meet them on Friday.” She nods, jotting it down on her planner.

“We need to lay some ground rules, obviously don’t try to randomly shove your tongue down my throat. I think since it’ll be the first time I'm meeting them let’s just keep it simple, maybe hand holding, a cheek kiss or two. Nothing crazy.” Eddie laughs, leaning forward and crushing his cigarettes in the glass ashtray already full of white and grey ashes and cigarette butts.

“I’m not going to fuck you infront of them or anything, don’t worry. I understand boundaries.” He gives her a smile, faint dimples carving in his cheeks. He’s lucky he’s got a pretty face or she’d storm out right now.

She gives him a disapproving look before shaking her annoyance off and continuing with the plan. “Hugs, hand holding that’s all fine, cheek kisses or whatever- I guess that’s okay all the time. But an actual kiss or anything like that needs a little warning and easing into.”

“Yeah, all sounds good to me. So I’ll see you Friday?”

“See you Friday.”

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Eddie’s van is pretty cozy. Despite the five curbs he’s run over and the ten stop signs he’s blown through, it’s actually been a nice ride. The diner they were meeting at was about fifteen minutes away and Eddie had called her an hour before telling her he was going to pick her up. His van was warm, surprisingly smelt good (she noticed the cherry scented air freshener he hung up), and was actually pretty clean. He had a few books in the back, a water bottle or two and a few cartons of cigarettes in the door- but it had a homey feel.

“Haha, sorry.” Eddie murmurs, making her sling forward as he breaks hard. Thank god for seatbelts.

He pulls into the diner parking lot, looking around to find a parking spot. The diner is pretty cute from the outside, it has. A blue roof and a bright LED sign, large windows giving you a peek into the busy restaurant.

Eddie jumps out, racing to open the door. “They are already here.” He holds a hand out, helping her out of the van. They walk inside, Eddie leading the way to the table the guys were sitting at. “Hey guys,” Eddie gives a little wave, pulling a seat out for Y/n then plopping himself next to her at the table. The diner was bright, checkered floors with red and white booth seats, neon colors everywhere. “This is Y/n, Y/n these are the guys.”

She smiles, shyly tucking her hair behind her ear. A boy with brown feathery hair sticks his hand out, “Hi gorgeous, I’m Gareth.”

Suddenly Eddie was hyper aware of the fact that his band mates were oogling his (fake) girlfriend. He grabs the underside of her chair and pulls her closer, reaching over Y/n and pushing Gareth’s hand down. “And he has a girlfriend.” Eddie stretches his arm in the top of Y/n’s chair, guarding her from the others.

“Well it’s nice to meet you guys! Eddie has told me so much about you.” She smiles, feeling warm and awkward with all the eyes on her. “Like what?” Another one speaks up, staring at her awkwardly. Eddie leans in her ear “That’s Doug. Ignore him.” Y/n softly laughs, “Tons of good stuff! I’ve seen you guys play a couple of times at the hideout. I work there every other day during the week and all weekend. I’m excited to get to know you all a little better.”

“Well, you’ll have tons of time on the trip! I’m Jeff. We’re all so excited to finally meet you, Eddie has really talked you up. I’m bringing my partner, Gareth and Doug are bringing their girlfriends so you won’t have to deal with us alone!” Y/n gives Jeff a sweet smile before turning her head to Eddie, her face instantly changing. “What the fuck is he talking about!?” She whispers, leaning in to whisper in Eddie’s ear.

“We’ll be right back.” Eddie announces to the group before him and Y/n step aside.

“What trio are they talking about?! You didn’t tell me about a trip!” Eddie rubs his face, “We go on a ‘group bonding’ trip every year. That's why I needed you, I couldn’t not bring a girl when everyone else is bringing their partners.” She groans, suddenly growing the urge to stomp her foot and fold her arms like a child.

“When is it?”

“Next week”

“How long will we be gone?”

“Only a week.”

Y/n huffs, rubbing her forehead then crossing her arms. “I think I can swing it. I never miss a day at work and I’m always on time, and I always pick up extra shifts if they need someone so maybe I can talk them into some sort of paid time off?”

Eddie bites at his fingernails, “so you’re coming?”

“I guess so.” Eddie claps, giving her a smile. “You won’t regret it, sweets!”

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It’s a chilly morning, the ground frosted over, chattering teeth and near frozen eyelashes, but with the body heat of five guys, and two girls, Y/n was more than warm. Usually being up at Seven in the morning on such a cold winter morning would have Y/n seething with regret and frustration for agreeing to such early plans, but this morning was quite different already.

Eddie picks her up last, giving her a little extra time to sleep since she had previously made it very clear that if she doesn’t get a full eight hours of sleep she will not be getting out of bed at all and if she is forced she will “reign terror on all of Hawkins”. He tosses her luggage in the back, the other girlfriends already asleep in the back row, and then lets her hop in the passenger seat as they head up to the cabin they rented for the trip.

The boys are loud, and the music they blast was about to give Y/n a major migraine, but it was oddly enjoyable. They had a nice energy to them, they were all smiles and laughs, the good energy was rubbing off on her.

She was looking forward to this week, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, especially if she got some alone time. She’s always thinking she needs to give herself a break since it’s not stop working for her, and this is the week just for that. She’s overpacked but not in her mind, she’s brought anything and everything she needs to make this week's stay as comfortable as she can and she intends to do that. She hopes the cabin has a nice big bathtub so she can use the fancy bath salts she packed.

Eddie turns the music down a couple notches, “having a good time?” He reaches for her hand, and at first she almost pulls it away but reminds herself that they have to act natural. “Yeah, the music is a little loud though.” He laughs, “they’ll be louder than the music will ever get if I try to turn it down. Good luck.”

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The drive hasn’t been so bad, now that they are an hour into the drive the boys have settled down, the adrenaline and excitement has worn off and now they are a little sleepy. Everyone’s head is either pressed against the window or sagging back onto the headrest of their seats. Y/n huffs, sinking into the passenger seat that is growing evermore uncomfortable by the second. She presses her forehead against the glass of the window, closing her eyes.

Eddie pants her hand and she cracks an eye open. “No you don’t. If I can’t get any sleep you can’t either. You can sleep once we’re at the cabin.” She groans, rubbing her eyes while trying to stretch to the best of her abilities in the limited space. She wracks her brain, trying to recall a time where she agreed to be woken up early, then stay up the whole two hour drive with Eddie while everyone else slept- but she guesses it’s a good thing a girlfriend would do.

“Okay, but” she yawns. “I don’t know if that will last long.”

Eddie turns the music up a little louder, “we’ll stop to get gas soon. Just hang in there for about five more minutes maybe? There should be something coming up.”

A couple more minutes pass by and before y/n knows it Eddie is pulling up to a gas pump. She swings the door open, jumping out. The relief of stretching her legs is unmatched and she paces a couple times.

Everyone stumbles out of the van, everyone equally as excited to be able to stretch their bodies and get some fresh air that wasn’t contaminated by cigarette smoke or the smell of a bunch of twenty year old boys.

As Eddie shoves the nozzle in and starts pumping gas he wraps his arm around Y/n, pulling her into a little hug. She leans in, resting her head against his chest. His hand reaches up to play with her hair and she pulls away from the hug, letting his arm continue to rest around her shoulder and play in her hair.

It is a little awkward to hang on to each other like that but she’s going to have to get used to it if she’s going to survive the week. She came here to do this favor for Eddie, and as much of an annoying asshole he is, she still plans to follow through with this to the best of her abilities.

“You can head in with them.” Eddie says, nodding over to the group that is heading into the gas station to grab whatever road trip snacks they can find. “It’s fine, It would make more sense to stay with you, right? I don’t really do this whole dating thing.” Eddie nods, “Me either. If I’m honest, I’ve never really had a girlfriend. I wasn’t exactly the most popular in high school.”

“Yeah, I had a few dates but they never went anywhere.”

The gang comes out of the store, white bags filled up with different bags of chips, cookies, and different sodas. Eddie tops off the tank, closing it up and opening Y/n’s door before hopping back in and starting up the van to continue their journey up to the cabin.

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The sudden stop wakes Y/n up, feeling Eddie’s warm hand on her shoulder softly shaking her awake. She rubs her eyes, yawning. “Are we there?” Eddie laughs, “Yeah, we’re here.” She blinks her eyes open. The snow is falling, bundling the dark cabin in a white blanket of snow. It piles up high on the ground and stacks up on the room. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful.” She steps out of the car, pulling zipping her coat up to her chin to hide herself from the bitter cold.

Eddie opens the trunk of the van, pulling out everyone’s luggage. He throws his beat up old duffle bag around his shoulder and then grabs Y/n’s suitcase, lifting it so it doesn’t track snow in. “It’s okay, I’ve got it.” Eddie shakes his head, “I’ve got it, sweets. I’m pretty strong.” He mumbles with a wink, grabbing the key from the mailbox and unlocking the door.

Y/n has to keep her jaw from dropping. The cabin is absolutely beautiful, big and open with warm, dim lighting. There’s a brick fireplace in the living room with a big puffy couch, knit blankets tossed over the back, Sliding glass doors that lead out to a big deck. When you walk in there is a kitchen to your left, a round wooden dining table with glossy cabinets, little green accents all through the kitchen.

Eddie leans forward, “stop gawking and go snatch the best room before anyone else can.” And with that Y/n turns the corner, walking through the hallway and jogging upstairs. All the bedroom doors are open, showing off the perfectly pristine rooms. She peeks through each room until she stumbles upon the biggest one. She opens the door to the bathroom, a nice big bathtub with a standing shower next to it, a big mirror and two sinks.

She would definitely be comfortable here for a week. A big cozy cabin that looks like it’s straight out of a fairytale book, the biggest and nicest room with snow blowing in, she didn’t have anywhere to be or anything to do besides relax. The only downside is that she would have to constantly be putting in a performance when in front of everyone but despite that, it was perfect.

“Well I could get used to this.” She hears Eddie’s deep voice from behind her. Spinning around on her heels, Eddie gives her a quick smile. “Nice huh? And where will you be sleeping? The floor?” Y/n rolls her eyes at him, “No, maybe you should go sleep on the couch downstairs while I take this nice bed.” She pats the king sized bed while Eddie throws their bags on it. “Or maybe there will be a spare room for you?”

It’s Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes. He crosses his arms against his chest, “in all seriousness, let’s just try to make this weekend as easy as possible. And don’t go falling in love with me, sweets.”

She fake gags then opens her suitcase, if she’s going to be staying here for a week she’s going to make it comfortable. She pulls her folded clothes out and shoves them into the dresser, then hangs her sweaters and whatever else she doesn't want getting creased or wrinkled. She takes out all of her toiletries, stashing them in their respective spots in the bathroom.

“I’m going to shower. I want to wash all your cigarette stench off.” Eddie nods, yawning. “Yeah, I’m going to build a fire. The guys are already bitching that they are cold.”

“Okay, I’ll be down soon.” She grabs a change of clothes, something cozy to bundle up in since today they were just getting comfortable in the cabin. “See you later.”

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Eddie sits next to the fireplace, tossing wood into it to start a fire so everyone will get off his ass about how cold they are.

“So how long have you and Y/n been together?” Jen, Gareth’s girlfriend asks. Eddie rubs his forehead, glancing over at the group who is all huddled on the couch. “Um, about six months I guess?” Maybe that’s how long he has been trying to lie about a girlfriend? He knows it’s pathetic, really, but with the way his friends (even his 16 year old friends) were making him feel about being single was too much that he had to make up some fake girlfriend.

“Awe! You guys are so cute together! How did you meet?” Eddie strikes a match then tosses it in to start the fire. Not exactly how he learned in cub scouts but it was good enough. “We met at the hideout. She works there.” He scratches his face, he’s not really in the mood to try to make up anymore details of his and Y/n's fake relationship.

“Were you playing a gig? That’s so cute! Have you said I love you yet?!” Jen is a nice girl, but god does she ask a lot of questions.

Out of the corner of his eye Eddie sees Y/n walk down the hallway and into the living room to join the rest of the group, and fuck is he happy to see her. “There you are. How was your shower?” Y/n takes her place next to Eddie, sitting by the fireplace. “It was good! I feel a lot better now.”

Now that they are here at the cabin with everyone, maybe they have underestimated how difficult this is going to be. Now that this is the first time everyone is properly meeting Y/n and getting to know them as a couple there will probably be endless questions about their relationship, their future plans, etc.

“Good, good. Now you can relax.” He picks at his nails, closing his eyes to relax.

Every year this trip is the highlight of his year. He loves coming up here and staying in for a week, doing absolutely nothing at all but hanging out with the guys. Usually they have some big fun thing planned, skiing, snowboarding, one year they tried to ice skate but that didn’t go very well, but with the stress of Eddie having to find someone to have a fake relationship with- well, they didn’t really get to plan anything big. But that’s okay, these trips are really all about reconnection and spending some quality time together.

“We were just talking about how cute you and Eddie are!” Y/n gives Jen a polite smile. “Oh I’m sure Eddie just loved that, hm?” She pats Eddie’s chest, relaxing back into the pillows Eddie threw down by the fireplace for him to sit. “I was just asking him some questions, is all. You guys met at the hideout? He said that you work there!”

Y/n glances over at Eddie. “Yeah, he was playing a gig when we met. I guess his whole rockstar thing just kind of drew me in. Love at first sight!”

“Oh, so you guys have said I love you!?” Eddie and Y/n make direct eye contact, and thank god Eddie had a little sketch book out or else they both would’ve been in trouble. He quickly scribbles in the corner of the book, his handwriting spikey and in all caps reading “we’ve been together for 6 months” trying to quickly fill her in on a few things they haven’t gone over due to Jen’s questions.

“Yeah, yeah. What about you and Gareth? Enough about us!” Y/n shifts the conversation, not wanting to get caught up in any confusion or lies. “Enough about you?! This is the first time we’ve met Eddie’s girlfriend! To be honest I didn’t know if we were ever going to meet you, he’s hidden you from us for so long I just want to know everything.”

Y/n wanted to kill Eddie for refusing to go over more plans for this fake dating scheme, but she also wanted to thank him for taking a hundred stops on the trip even though she was annoyed. He made her wake up so early just for him to stop every fifteen minutes and make them get to the cabin at sundown. She blames all the peach tea he was guzzling but she’s so thankful for it at this moment.

“It’s getting kind of late. I think I’m going to head to bed. Tomorrow we’ll have all day to get to know each other, right? Eddie has talked about you so much so I can’t wait to get to know you.” She tries to politely excuse her and Eddie off to bed but she gets pulled back down by Jen’s constant questioning. “It’s only nine! How are you already sleepy?” Jen laughs, repositioning herself to get comfortable to stay up a couple more hours.

“She gets car sick. So I think we’re going to get some shut eye.” He stands up, putting his hands on Y/n’s shoulders and giving them a quick rub as she leads the way off to their room.

Once they get in the room Eddie shuts the door. “What the fuck are we going to do about Jen’s constant questioning?!” Y/n scoffs and shakes her head, dressing down the bed for sleep since they don’t have much else to do. “You’re the one who said it was “dramatic and not necessary” to go over the details! Eddie groans, flopping down on the bed. “This is your fault, Eddie! Don’t get grumpy with me.”

“Shit!”

“Shit is right! We will just have to go over whatever details we can think of tonight.” Eddie stands back up, dropping his pants and ripping his shirt off until he’s just in tube socks and boxers. He slides back in bed, taking his time to get comfortable, ignoring the fact that he’s loudly fluffing his pillow and practically jumping on the bed. Y/n huffs, tossing a body pillow in the middle of the bed to separate their sides.

“How are we supposed to know what the fuck else she’s going to ask us?! She might personally quiz us on facts about each other.” Y/n’s throws her hands in the air, “Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. We just go over simple things that a girlfriend and boyfriend should know about each other! Some family stuff, age, name, the obvious!”

“Well I’m pretty sure we’re the same age, and you know my name!” Eddie tosses and turns trying to get in the perfect spot. “Keep your voice down or they are going to think we’re fighting and question us even more.”

“Okay, my name is Eddie, your name is Y/n, we’re both twenty-two-unless you’re hiding something? You’re favorite thing about me is my gorgeous hair and my favorite thing about you is your personality. Is that solved?”

Y/n’s jaw almost drops at how annoying he can be. “I’m going to bed! I guess we’ll just play this all by ear.”

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Three days into the trip and it’s been a breeze. Eddie and Y/n have had a few hiccups, but nothing to throw them off too hard. Jen got the message and stopped her constant questions, which kind of made them feel bad because she didn’t mean any harm, she’s just a curious cat.

After more arguing they finally settled down and stopped being so stubborn and went over a few things. They both got to know the basics, just simple get to know me icebreakers you would tell about yourself on the first date- not that either of them would really know what to say on a first date, but they tried to fill each other in as best as possible without staying up all night to share their whole life story.

“You know, you snore really fucking loud.” Eddie says, walking out of the bathroom with toothpaste still on his chin. Y/n folds up her clothes, shaking her head. “Well you kick, and you groan, and you drool but I haven’t complained about it.” A smile appears on Eddie’s plump lips as he walks over to what has become his side of the room, digging through his bag to find some clothes for the day.

“You love every second of it.” Y/n raises her eyebrow, “I’ll see you downstairs, weirdo.”

Y/n joins the group downstairs, everyone huddled in the kitchen eating breakfast. “Hey guys” smiles full of pancakes and bacon greet her back. “Where is Eddie?” Jeff asks, looking around to see if he had missed him- which was pretty hard to do since he sticks out like a sore thumb with his crazy dark hair and his loud mouth. “He should be coming down any second!” She grabs a plate, adding two pancakes onto it, a pat of butter, and some maple syrup.

Eddie comes down almost scarily quiet, coming up behind her and kissing her cheek. “Oh thanks for making my plate, sweets!” He takes the plate of pancakes from her, adding on some bacon and a mountain of potatoes. “Gotta fuel up for the day.” He gives his signature smile then shovels a pile of pancakes into his mouth.

Y/n shakes her head, grabbing another plate and making breakfast of her own- again. She joins the rest of the group at the table, sitting down next to Eddie where he shovels food into his mouth like a starved man.

“I can’t believe we still have eleven days left of the trip.” Doug says, a smile on his face. “It’ll be over before we know it. I don’t want it to end!” Y/n turns to look at Eddie, his face just as full of confusion as hers is. “What do you mean eleven days? Are we not leaving Monday morning?” Y/n looks around, waiting for a response while everyone looks at her confused. “What the hell are you talking about?” Eddie says between a mouthful of potatoes.

“I’d like to know too.” Y/n says, her voice slow and confused.

“We’re staying here for two weeks. That’s been the plan all along.” Jeff pipes up, shrugging at Eddie like he’s stupid. “Well who the fuck was going to tell me that?” Eddie gulps down orange juice after then wipes the juice that falls from his plump lips with the back of his ringed hand. “We all decided to add another week to the trip, you were there.” Eddie tosses his hands up in the air and Y/n stands up, grabbing his arm to lead him to the bathroom to talk about whatever the hell was going on.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me we’re staying here for two weeks?!” Eddie scoffs at Y/n, shaking his head. “Obviously I didn’t know either! You think I wouldn’t have told you?” She groans, smacking her hand down on the sink. “Why didn’t you pay attention?!”

Eddie’s jaw drops, throwing his arms in the air. “Maybe if you would have paid more attention you would’ve figured it out!”

Y/n grabs the hand towel, slapping him in the arm with it. “You’re so frustrating!” The room goes silent for a while, both of them thinking how this is going to work out, how they can deal with another week of this without cracking.

Suddenly Y/n hears Eddie’s deep chuckle, shooting her head up to see his arms cross against his chest while he has a crooked smirk on his face. “What?” He continues to laugh, rubbing a hand over his mouth to try to stop the laughter. “Are you done with your fit now?” She’s a little annoyed, but can’t help but crack a smile. All Y/n has to do is let her family know that she will be gone another week so they don’t get worried if they try to call or visit, she needs to call the hideout and let her manager know that she’s going to be gone longer than anticipated. And luckily she has enough to fall back on since she will be out of work for two weeks.

“I think I can swing it.” She rubs her forehead, “Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

Eddie claps his hands together, smiling. “Then let’s get back out there and shove our faces full before we head out today.”

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Thankfully, the group found some stuff to do so they won’t be totally cooped up in the cabin the whole entire trip. The guys want to go to some of the bars around the little town they were staying in, and there are some random touristy spots they wanted to hit, like a snowy hike Eddie seemed excited for, but Y/n is not excited in the slightest. She wasn’t excited for hiking in the freezing cold, ice everywhere, smoke coming from your mouth anytime you speak, teeth chattering.

“Are you almost ready?” Eddie asks, pushing the door to the bathroom where she is getting ready. She gasps, looking back at Eddie. “What the fuck?” A smeared black line is under her eye, blinking fast since the wand hit her pupil. “Um, you’ve got something right here.” She groans, smacking her hand down on the sink, letting her mascara wand fall from her hand.

“You just ruined my makeup, Eddie!” He walks back over to her, lifting his hand up and circling around his eye. “Right there?” She nods, “Yeah, you don’t need all that shit anyways. It just hides your face from me.” Y/n is taken aback, her face gets hot as he walks out of the room.

“What?”

“Five minutes! Come on!” He claps his hands together as she hears him swing the door open and jog down the stairs.

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Y/n feels like an outsider.

Everyone is already well acquainted with each other, having established relationships that have lasted years. The guys are all sticking together and the other two girls have been friends for a while, so Y/n is kind of stuck. She gets along with the other partners, but the only one she’s comfortable enough to talk to is Eddie. So she lingers around behind him while everyone else chats about. She doesn’t mean to leave herself out, or seem rude, but she isn’t sure how to include herself and she doesn’t want to form some bond with these people if she’s never going to see them after this trip.

Eddie clearly enjoys hiking. He’s climbing huge rocks and going above and beyond, nearly causing everyone a heart attack when he fake trips near the edge of a cliff- completely ignoring the ice and snow all around him.

It’s not that Y/n isn’t athletic or necessarily hates hiking, it just isn’t her thing. She feels out of place enough and heavy breathing in the freezing cold in the back of the group is a little humiliating.

Patches of ice cover the big rock steps, everyone carefully trying to avoid them so they don’t slip. Snow falls and covers most of the steps so it’s a big guessing game on where the ice is under the heaps of snow.

Y/n grabs onto the railing they built for people to hold so they wouldn’t fall on the steep stairs. She tracks up the stairs, successfully navigating the rocks. She steps onto the last one and instantly feels unsteady, her foot sliding from under her from the slippery ice under it. She falls on the stairs, smacking one knee on a sharp edge and her chin on the ground.

“Oh fuck!” She hears, already growing more embarrassed than ever at the eyes she knows are on her. Eddie scrambles to help her up, “Careful now!” He whispers as she stumbles. Her eyes well up and she blinks hard to try to keep her tears at bay. She's not sure if the tears are out of embarrassment or the nauseating pain. Eddie sizes up her injuries, wincing and turning her head. “You guys go ahead, we’ll catch up.”

There’s spots of blood in the snow and the knee of her pants is completely soaked through. “C’mon sweetheart. Let’s sit you down.” He takes her hand and leads her to a little bench, throwing his first layer of jackets onto it so she doesn’t have to sit on the wet wood. “Sorry,” Y/n mumbles, feeling bad that Eddie has to stop when he’s clearly enjoying himself to clean up her mess.

“Honey, you don’t need to apologize for anything.” He softly chuckles, thumbing away her tears. “Can I check out your leg?” She nods, wiping her tears away while he shuffles her pants over her knee. “You’re lucky I’ve got all sorts of shit in here.” He pats his large hiking backpack and opens one of the front pockets, pulling out a first aid kit. “We’ve got to stop the bleeding but I’m going to try to clean it up as much as I can.” His tongue peaks out as he rips open some packages, wiping over her knee.

“Ah shit, I think you might need stitches.” She panics, shaking her head. “No, no, no! We’ve still got so much to do!”

“Who cares when you’re hurt? I don’t think anyone will mind if we skip bar hopping to get you taken care of. Now I can play doctor, I’ve had to stitch myself up a few times but I don’t want to risk that on you.” His tongue pokes out again as he bandages up her legs, wrapping it up. “I think that’ll do for now. Now let me see that chin, honey.”

He softly grips at her jaw, looking at the big cut under her chin. “Well, it doesn’t look good, but I think it just needs some cleaning up and you’ll be all better.” He rips open a little alcohol pad, whispering a warning before he wipes her cut clean. He sticks a padded bandage under it and pulls her pant leg back down.

“Okay, wounded soldier is all recovered.” He holds out a hand for her, kissing the top of your head. “Thanks, Eddie.” He rubs her shoulder, throwing his back back on his shoulder. “No problem, sweets. Let’s get back up there. The troops are waiting on us.”

Y/n successfully gets through the hike without any more accidents. Though she is embarrassed about the whole thing, she smiles through it. Eddie holds her hand the rest of the hike to ensure she wont lose her balance and end up injured again.

“Do you wanna go back to the cabin? We don’t have to go out with them.” Y/n shrugs while buckling herself into the van, Eddie starts it up and cranks the heat up to warm their red noses. “No, you’ve already had to hang back. I don’t want to keep you from them anymore.” Eddie leans in, “Truthfully, I don’t want to be their babysitter. So let’s hang back, yeah?” She nods, cracking a small smile. She was kind of relieved that Eddie doesn't want to go out, she wants everyone to have fun but she’s happy that she doesn’t have to hop around to crowded bars with a janky knee all night.

“Yeah.” And with that he drives off, dumping the group to some random bar and heading back to the cabin, Y/n half asleep next to him.

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“Wake up, sleepy head.” Eddie shakes Y/n awake , his hand on her shoulder. “We’re back. Time to get up.” Y/n blinks awake, stretching and rubbing her eyes before sitting back up. “Are we home?” She hears a warm chuckle from Eddie, his lopsided smile making her want to fall back into her cozy sleep. “We’re back at the cabin if that’s what you mean by ‘home’.” She nods, holding her hand out for him so he can help her out.

He leads them to the door. “You really did a number on yourself today, huh?” She nods, “I guess so.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie starts, opening the door and letting her walk through before shutting it behind them. “We can set up on the couch for the night. But first, I should probably double check to make sure you don’t need stitches.” She groans, but leads them to the bathroom nonetheless. Pathetically jumping up on the sink, Eddie knees the floor under her and rolls her pant leg up to investigate her injury again.

He peels the bandage, cleaning it with cool water. “You could use maybe one stitch. But you’ll heal fine without it. I’d do it myself, but you’re much too delicate for that, hm?” She gulps, nodding before he lifts her chin, wiping the dried blood clean. “Let’s keep these bandaged. You want to keep them clean, but you’ll heal them up in no time.” He pats her thigh to let her know she can jump down before he walks off.

Eddie gathers supplies, throwing down a mountain of blankets on the couch, along with all the snacks from the kitchen, and a pile of games he found in one of the hallway closets.

“We’ve got scrabble, monopoly, connect four, guess who, or we can just play D&D?” Y/n rolls her eyes, “What’s with all the baby games? It’s not 1981 anymore.”

Eddie scoffs, “You’re taking a lot of smack for someone who’s got a busted jaw. Shouldn’t it be all locked up or something?” Y/n laughs, plopping down beside him on the big puffy couch. She’s kind of happy that she slipped and busted her knee, if she didn’t they would probably be in a stuffy bar with old drunk men surrounding them who smell strong of liquor and body odor despite the cold temperatures. Without her injury she wouldn’t be wrapped up in a fur blanket on the couch, watching the snowfall in the big cozy cabin.

It’s crazy to think that a couple weeks ago she hardly knew Eddie and now she shared a bed with him every night.

“Let me get a fire going and then we’ll start a game or something? Maybe we can look through their VHS tapes?” Eddie stands up, walking over to the fireplace since there was an extra chill from all the snow piling up outside. “We can do anything. I’m happy as long as I’m on the couch.”

Eddie comes back after lighting the fire, “Well, let’s get this party started.”

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“I’m about to flip this fucking board over!” Eddie groans, smacking his ringed hand onto his forehead. “You chose monopoly don’t get pissed that you’re losing!” Eddie huffs, watching Y/n make her next move.

“I win! I win!” Y/n laughs loudly, sticking her arms up in celebration of her victory. Eddie shakes his head, trying to act mad. He grabs her arms pushing them back down- but she refuses and wrestles him away. Eddie can’t help but laugh along with her, wrestling her arms down. The board falls onto the floor with a clatter and they ignore it, Eddie straddling her legs while they fight. “You cheated! You are a cheater!” Y/n laughs loudly, Eddie smiling down at her. Suddenly his arms give out, the big smile not leaving his face. Y/n opens her eyes, her laugh suddenly fading as she sees Eddie above her.

The silence is loud, only their breathing can be heard before Eddie leans down, slotting his lips between hers.

The door suddenly swings open, making them fly apart like they were caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing. Eddie clears his throat, falling back on the cushion breathless, unable to make eye contact with Y/n.

Caught, both of their cheeks burn red. “Can’t wait until you get to your bedroom?” Doug questions them, letting out a throaty laugh while all the others stand there with smirks on their faces.

They both know that for people who are supposed to be in a relationship this is completely normal, but given their situation they are embarrassed to be caught, especially knowing what could have happened if they weren’t interrupted. “Fuck off, Doug. Don't act like I haven’t caught you two two unspeakable things. In my van too!” Doug gasps and Eddie snickers, walking back to their bedroom and Y/n follows hot on his tail.

Once they get into their bedroom Y/n shuts the door. Eddie stands there, watching her as she rubs her hands against her bare arms. Neither of them are sure what to say, obviously something happened back there and they would both be lying if they say they didn’t feel a spark.

“Well,” Y/n takes a step forward. “I think I’m going to get ready for bed. I shouldn’t be long- if you need the bathroom.” Eddie nods, biting at his fingernails. “Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.”

While she is in the bathroom he paces around the room before sliding his rings off onto this nightstand, leaning back onto the mattress and blowing out a sigh. He rubs his face, “what the fuck are you doing, Eddie?” He asks himself, wondering why he can’t get his thoughts straight. It’s supposed to be a two week thing, after this trip they can just fake a breakup and forget about this whole thing and move on with their lives. Eddie isn’t so sure about that. How can he ever just forget about all the memories he’s already made with her? Today was one of the best days of his life, being able to take care of her, spending the evening playing board games with her and completely letting her win.

“Do you mind if I turn off the light?” He hears her voice from the other side of the room, she stands next to the door, her hand on the switch. “No, go ahead. Let’s hit the hay.”

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A group of girls arrived in the cabin next to them today. The two other girls decided to invite them over to join them since they had a day planned of sitting in the hot tub and getting drunk.

The snow has stopped falling for the first time in their week-long stay, finally crawling up to a tolerable temperature of forty five degrees. Y/n and Eddie have completely ignored the moment they shared last week, taking the weekend to have a little alone time, the girls went out to get pedicures while the guys stayed in and played D&D. It was nice to get to know the girls, Y/n actually really enjoyed talking to them and getting a break from the nerdy guys was pretty nice.

“Okay, we’ve got enough beer for the day.” Eddie says, lifting two twenty four packs of beer and setting them on the table. “You’re joking… right?” Eddie shakes his head, “Duh!”

“Smart ass” Y/n mumbles, shoving the random groceries Eddie had bought into the refrigerator. “What did you say?” Eddie questions with the rise of an eyebrow, walking over to her and peeking at her face. “Oh nothing.” She hums, ignoring him standing behind her.

“Hm, no, I think I heard something!” Y/n shakes her head at Eddie’s words. “Nope, nothing.”

Eddie nods back at her, “Oh! Okay. Sounded like you called me a smart ass but maybe I misheard.” She softly laughs, shrugging. “You’re probably having auditory hallucinations. The beer is already getting to you.”

Eddie cracks a smile, “okay smart ass, go and get your bathing suit on before you end up in the spot next to Doug’s feet.” And with that Y/n jogs away to go put her swimsuit on and score them a good spot in the tub.

When Y/n gets back Eddie is already in the tub, a gap open which he obviously saved for her. On his opposite side is a girl, long dirty blond hair that falls mid back. She’s beautiful and Y/n can’t help but feel a little insecure in her color block bikini.

She turns back, walking into the kitchen. Feeling far too exposed to be walking around in the house, She tries to adjust the highwaisted bottoms and cups on her top to cover more, but to no avail. She dotes around, trying to figure out how to stall. She's not sure why seeing Eddie talking to that girl has got her so worked up, she feels a little lightheaded and her face is hot.

“What’s got you looking so green?” Jeff asks, stepping into the kitchen along with her.

“Um, nothing. What are you up to?” She places a hand on the cold surface of the table, trying to get her to calm down. She can feel herself getting increasingly angry with her own thoughts. Her and Eddie aren’t actually together, there’s no reason for her to feel so… jealous.

“I needed to go to the bathroom, but Eddie sent me for a beer.” Jeff complains, leaning against the fridge in his rubber ducky swim trunks. “That’s okay, I’ll grab it for him.” Jeff thanks her and runs off to the bathroom while Y/n collects a couple beers in her hands, knowing Eddie and the guys are bound to be taking a couple more trips to the fridge.

She slides into the hot tub next to Eddie, seeing the girl's hand placed on Eddie’s arm. A switch goes off in Y/n’s brain, “Here, babe. I got the beer you asked for.” Eddie turns his head, seeing her holding a can out for him. “Oh, thanks. Where did j-“ Y/n smashes her mouth into Eddie’s, cupping his jaw with one hand and pressing the other to his chest.

She slips her tongue in his mouth, Eddie taking a moment to process it before he slowly kisses back. She pulls away, red embarrassment painted all over her face. Eddie clears his throat, cracking open his beer. “I’ve got to go… clear my head.”

Y/n face palms. How stupid could she be? Of course he didn’t feel the same, he just needed a girl to play along with him so he didn’t have to tell his band mates his dirty little secret. She groans, getting out of the hot tub and ignoring the looks she gets from the girl. Y/n is sure she is nice, and she probably just ruined a potential girlfriend for Eddie, a real one.

She waits a while before she goes to talk to Eddie. As she walks up the stairs after fifteen minutes of sitting on the couch she plans what she will say to him, apologizing for shoving her tongue down his throat and getting jealous when she has no right. They aren’t actually together, this is all acting and she needs to respect that.

She opens the door to their shared room, hearing the shower running. She shuts the door behind her, sitting at the edge of the bed to wait for Eddie once he’s out. He was probably in the shower rinsing the chlorine out of his hair since he was trying to avoid it the best he could.

After a couple of minutes Y/n hears him turn the water off and she prepares for him to come out.

Eddie steps out, leaving the door cracked behind him to let the steam escape the bathroom. She opens her mouth to start, but promptly closes it. Eddie stands in front of the door, chest rising and falling with ragged breathing. She starts up again but fails to get any words out once more.

Eddie walks towards her, standing tall above her. Her breathing matches his, her chest suddenly feeling heavy. She reaches her hand up, settling it on his stomach and trailing it down before she pulls the white towel wrapped around his waist, letting it fall to the ground then wraps her hand around his thick cock. She’s at a loss for words as she takes in his naked form. His skin pale and pink, the dark blank ink of his tattoos contracting. His plump lips already puffy and bitten, his wet waves dripping down his chest and rolling past his belly button.

His cock is pretty and pink, long and thick. Perfect, just like she knew it would be.

“Eddie… I really like you.” He lets out a hiss then softly grabs her jaw, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. “Fuck sweetheart, I’d love to talk about this right now but if you keep touching my dick I don’t know if we’re going to get any talking done.” He presses his lips back to hers, trailing them down to her neck. His hands grab at the strings of her bikini, trying to untie it but failing.

“Get this fucking thing off.” She softly laughs into his mouth, reaching behind her back and pulling the strings to untie them. He peels the wet top off of her skin, groaning at the sight of her tits. “Jesus Christ, honey.” He’s practically drooling at the sight of her, reaching out to run his hands along her body. “Get in the bed.” She listens to his order, crawling up the bed and laying in the middle, watching him follow her lead and crawl over her body.

Y/n reaches down, going to pull her bottoms down. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Eddie practically growls, pushing her hands away and slipping her swim bottoms off herself. Her chest heaves, begging him to do something, touch her, feel her. “Please.” Eddie smiles down at her, “please what? What do you want me to do?” His hands slide down her thighs and her hot skin warms his cold hands.

“Anything, please Eddie.”

He connects his mouth with hers again, moaning into the kiss. He tastes like beer and cigarettes and Y/n loves it, she doesn’t think she’ll ever get enough.

Eddie’s lips trail down, pressing pecks down her arm, her chest, her sides, kissing over the little stretch marks that line her hips before he sinks between her thighs. “Is this good?” Eddie asks, his deep voice dripping out like honey that’s been sitting in the sun too long. His big brown eyes stare up at her, dusted with lust and heavy with need. “Yes, yes it’s perfect.” He lets out a deep laugh, making her squeeze her eyes shut as hard as she can to stop a moan from coming out of her pathetic mouth.

He finally lowers his head, pulling her thighs up to rest them over his shoulders. “Fuck look at that.” Eddie presses a kiss to her thigh, “is this all for me?” She bites her lip, nodding. Eddie dives in, pushing his tongue between her lips.

Y/n gasps, her hand flying into his dark waves. Her eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feeling of Eddie’s tongue working magic on her. He gently sucks at her clit while he slides a ringed finger inside of her. They hear a creek at the floor, the stepping sounds far too close to the room for their liking. Eddie looks up, panting. “Did you lock the door?” Y/n shakes her head and Eddie jumps up, walking to the door to quickly lock it before any of his rude friends could barge in.

Y/n admires Eddie’s perky ass, softly laughing at it bouncing. Eddie jumps back on the bed, both of his hands cupping her jaw as he pulls her into a kiss. Y/n hand cradles the back of Eddie’s head, closing her eyes and leaning into him. “I think I might have a condom.” Eddie softly laughs on her lips, pulling her body closer into his.

“I don’t have any. I didn’t think this was how the trip would go.” Her hands slide over his arms, threading their fingers together and placing pecks over his lips. “One” kiss “second” kiss “I’ve gotta grab one I’ll be right back.” He laughs on her lips, giving her hands one last squeeze before grabbing his wallet and pulling out an old condom he’s had in there for a while.

“It’ll do the trick, right?” Y/n softly laughs, nodding. “Yeah, as long as there’s no holes in it.”

Eddie shrugs, looking at the gold packet. “Should work.”

“Lay back.” Eddie mumbles, getting serious again as he tears open the packet with his teeth, rolling the condom onto his cock. “You ready?” He crawls between her legs, his thumb rubbing her clit. She nods, pulling home closer. He knees the bed, lining himself up before slowly pushing inside of her.

She gasps, gripping at his arm. “You okay, honey?” Eddie trails kisses over her neck, taking his time to place delicate kisses on her skin. “I’ve never been better.” He pulls out, starting to slowly thrust in and out of her while his mouth gravitates to one of her nipples.

He sucks at her nipples, feeling it grow hard in his mouth. He circles his tongue around the sensitive bud, gently biting at it. Her back arches into him, throwing her legs around his hips and pulling him into her again. “Faster baby, please.” Her hand rests on the back of his head again, moaning at the electric feeling pulsing through her body.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Eddie’s pants, completely breathless as he slides in and out of her, making a complete mess of the now crumpled sheets. Y/n feels her wetness drip down, surely making a wet mess of the fabric under her, but she couldn’t care less.

She didn’t expect the fucking whines that come out of his mouth. Whining like the one thing he’s never wanted has been ripped from his hands, laced with want and desire. She squeezes around him the moment the noise hits her ears, feeling like she could already cum around him.

He whines again, shoving his face against her neck. His hips speed up, snapping quick and deep. Eddie hits her G spot, making her back arch. He hums, letting out a little breath. She’d spend the rest of her life making him feel good as long as he keeps making these noises.

She doesn’t get around much, but she’s never had someone be so delicate with her but still make her feel so good. Everything about him is intoxicating, the slight drag of his teeth against her lip when he kisses her, the way his head falls back when he feels really good, the way his thick cock stretches her out perfectly and fills her up.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart. Jesus H Christ, I fucking love your pussy.” He's obviously close to cumming as he starts rambling on, his balls growing heavy as he gets closer and closer. “I need you to cum first, sweetheart.” His hand slips between them, rubbing her clit. Y/n’s thighs twitch as the feeling, feeling more lightheaded as she gets closer and closer.

She squeezes tight around him, never wanting it to end as his cock slides in and out of her dripping pussy, Eddie all over her. “I’m about to cum, Eddie.” It takes him all but one second after her words for Eddie to bust inside of her, moaning loud. His hand never slips from the spot where he rubs her cunt, needing her to cum more than he’s ever needed anything before. “C’mon honey. Cum for Eddie, please. I know you want to.” She whimpers, closing her eyes as he works her closer and closer.

“Eddie” she gasps, calling out his name while she cums, clenching around his dick while her eyes squeeze shut.

She blinks her eyes open, trying to catch her breath. She watches Eddie sink down between her thighs again, her eyes widening. “Holy shit” she whispers, feeling his tongue dart out to clean her messy pussy up.

He raises with a smile, pulling her into a kiss before he flops down next to her. “We’ve got to find spare sheets.” Y/n laughs, laying her head on Eddie’s chest. He rubs her back, kissing her forehead.

Edie glances around, suddenly feeling fidgety. “I…” he shuts himself down, not sure where to start. “Yeah?” Y/n looks up, placing a kiss to his bare chest. She laces their fingers together with the hand that wasn't softly scratching her back. “I know I’m not the… coolest guy ever, and I’ve still got some growing up to do… but I think I can be something good for you maybe… if that’s what you want.”

A smile breaks across Y/n's face, “I think so too, Eddie. I didn’t expect this trip to go this way… but maybe now you won’t have to lie to your bandmates about a girlfriend?” Eddie laughs, wrapping one of his legs around hers. “I think, maybe no more lies?”

“Yeah?” Y/n asks, rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand.

“Yeah.”

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“We should probably get up.” Y/n mumbles, Eddie half asleep as he breathes slowly with his head back against a pillow. “I can’t.” He whispers, “I’m too sleepy.” Y/n shakes her head, drawing circles on his chest. “We’ve just been laying on the wet sheets for almost an hour.” Eddie shrugs, finally opening his eyes.

“C’mon, I need to shower.” She jumps up and Eddie follows her, walking behind her as she opens the bathroom door, turning the shower on.

She looks in the mirror, trying to wipe the messy mascara that has leaked under her eyes. While she’s occupied Eddie leans against the wall, admiring her messy state. Completely bare, bed head and smeared makeup. “You’re really beautiful.” He’s just thinking out loud, really. Not fully aware of his thoughts just flowing out. “I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Y/n stands there completely stunned, not sure what to say.

“No one ever said that to me.” She awkwardly laughs, feeling embarrassed by his sweet words.

“Really? That’s hard to believe.” He takes a step forward, brushing her hair out of her face. “Can I tell you something?” She nods. “I told the guys that I was dating you before I even asked you. You were the one I told them about all along.”

Y/n’s mouth falls open, at a loss for words. “It’s kind of creepy, huh?” He laughs, shaking his head at how unbelievably dumb he can be sometimes. “I just saw you at the bar and you were so sweet and I just… I got a little crush on you and I really didn’t think it’d go anywhere.”

She sighs, “Maybe a little creepy before, but not now that everything works out.” Eddie scoffs, feeling playful again. “Creepy huh. Sure you want to be with me?” Y/n hums, tapping her chin. “I’ll give it a good two months before I get a restraining order.”

Eddie's jaw dramatically drops, grabbing her and yanking her over to the shower with him. “And I thought it would be kind of endearing!”

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“Wake up, baby.” Y/n whispers, pressing kisses to Eddie’s cheeks to wake him up.

Today was the last day of the trip, and Y/n was kind of relieved. It was always nice to get a break and go away, especially with how this trip panned out for her- but it all felt like a dream and she wanted to get back to reality to make sure it was all as good as it seems.

Eddie groans, yelling while he stretches. He tosses the other way, trying to get away from her so he can sleep some more. “Eddie,” she laughs. “You’ve got to wake up. We gotta be out of here by one and I already let you sleep in until ten.”

Eddie groans again, sitting up with a grumpy look on his face as he rubs his eyes hard to force himself to wake up. He shouldn’t have put off packing last night, but he got a little preoccupied.

He turns to Y/n a deep from turning his whole face down. Suddenly a smile flickers onto his mouth, “I forgot you’re naked.” He rubs his hands together like he has an evil thought. Y/n steps out of bed, throwing on Eddie’s corroded coffin shirt and pulling her panties up. “No time for this. We’ve got to get packing.” Eddie flops back on the bed, sitting there for a beat until he throws himself out, standing up and stretching out with a big yawn.

“Put something on to cover your ass and get to packing.”

Eddie snaps his head to her, offended. “You love it!”

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Somehow, everyone packed all their things up and got them shoved in Eddie’s van with ten minutes to spare. Since Eddie drove the whole way up to the cabin, Gareth agreed to drive the last hour so Eddie could have a little break. 

“Get your ass in there.” Eddie jokes, smacking Y/n’s ass as she crawls into the van. She rolls her eyes, smacking his hand away before he closes the door for her. “Now you can’t fall asleep. I need twenty four seven entertainment to keep me driving.” She laughs, leaning her head back against the seat. 

“Were you guys in a fight at the start of the trip? You seemed pissed at each other.” Eddie and Y/n look at each other with knowing grins on their faces. “Something like that.” Y/n mumbles before Eddie starts up the van for the ride home. 

This drive doesn’t nearly seem as long as the first time around. Maybe that’s because she and Eddie get to cuddle up in the back, and Eddie is definitely relieved to not drive the whole way. 

Y/n plays in Eddie’s hair, softly massaging his scalp. “You’re putting me to sleep.” Eddie says with a sleepy smile, his eyes closed while he enjoys the light massage. His head rests in Y/n’s lap, deciding he needed a relaxing nap. 

“Yeah, well your nap won’t be too long. We’ll be home in about twenty minutes.” He groans, shoving his face in her thigh. “Just keep playing with my hair.” She laughs, “I will” 

It’s not long before they are back in Hawkins, sad the trip is officially over, but excited to be back home and in a more calm climate instead of there being a constant blizzard outside. 

Gareth dropped himself off and the others quickly trickled out, leaving just Eddie and Y/n. “I don’t want to leave you.” Eddie confesses, lifting their tangled hands and pressing kisses to each of her knuckles. “Maybe you don’t have to.” Eddie takes his eyes off the road for a second, glancing back at her. “Hm?” 

“Maybe just unpack at my place. Stay with me for a while.” She gives his hand a squeeze. “Maybe I’ll just stay with you.” He squeezes back, pulling up to her apartment building. 

“Let’s get in there. I want to make up for all that lost time on the trip when we weren't together.”

A/N: this is my first fic I’ve ever posted on here:)))! This is kind of big for me, sorry if there is typos I tried my best to check!!! I’ll fix the spacing because tbh it’s annoying me! I hope you liked it! Please let me know your thoughts!

Tagging people who asked or was interested! :D - @ali-r3n @celestair @rustboxstarr @the-fairy-anon @myotherlifeiswattpad

:)