#China says 'here is the most romantic love you will ever witness'

[fiddleyoumust]

So glad that my love of Chinese BL had mentally prepared me for The On1y One. Can't be disappointed if you knew what you were getting into from the start. 😂😭

[kyuuppi]

Pairing: Wanderer x Reader (gn)

Contents: established relationship; fluff; Wanderer uses demeaning names for Reader (but still loves them); soft Wanderer; bad at feelings Wanderer; consumption of fish

Word Count: 1.4k

Scaramouche would have never imagined that he would be here.

Then again, there were many aspects of Wanderer's life that Scaramouche would have never imagined. Like this moment now, bustling around the tiny kitchen of a cozy apartment and impatiently glancing at the clock every few seconds. He stirs away at a bubbling pot of pasta to ensure it doesn’t burn on the bottom but remains warm enough to serve when you finally arrive.

Speaking of which where the fuck are you, you promised you’d be home early today— he had made sure of it before you left this morning. But’s already half past six and you’re usually home by six fifteen so you probably forgot and now his plans are ruined and—

The obnoxiously familiar jingle of keys followed by the squeak of the front door interrupts Wanderer’s thoughts. His shoulders slightly droop with relief as he turns off the stove bringing the pot over to the neatly arranged dining room table to finally plate the meal. 

“Took you long enough,” Wanderer says as if it were a proper greeting. And perhaps for him, it may as well be.

As usual, his sharp words fall off your back like water, much too used to his pissy attitudes by now, several years into knowing each other and nearly a year into a romantic relationship. 

“Sorry,” you huff out as you finally shrug the heavy tote bag off your shoulder. 

“I ran into Tigh on the way back from the market while I was picking up some new books,” you begin to explain as you shuffle into the dining area. 

“He said he was looking for spices Collei requested for her new recipe. Oh, have you ever had her pita pockets before? I know you’re picky about food but they’re actually really good and I think you– whoa … what is this? ”

Your story is cut short as you finally seem to take in the setting before you. As your eyes dart across the table your mouth falls open, appearance akin to that of a goldfish. If he weren’t so uncharacteristically nervous, Wanderer might have laughed at you for how dumb you look. 

But instead, he silently places the emptied pot in the sink, uncaring of the intimidatingly large pile of dirty dishes—he’ll get to those later. 

With quick strides, he returns to the dining table, taking a seat in front of one of the two plates of steaming rosé pasta, violet eyes seeming to glow in the dim candlelight as he shoots you an expectant look. 

“What does it look like, dumbass? It’s a candlelit dinner,” Wanderer sneers, “now hurry the fuck up and eat before it gets cold. I put a lot of effort in this shit, y’know.”

As Wanderer stabs a picks up a bundle of spaghetti noodles with his chopsticks you seem to finally regain your wits, forcing yourself to move and take a seat as you glance between the crystal vase at the center of the table, filled with deep red dendrobrium accented by thin branches of sakura bloom, the dancing flames of the osmanthus-scented candles placed strategically around the room, and the generous helping of what appeared to be cod roe pasta with rosé sauce plated on the finest china you two owned–a housewarming gift from Zhongli. It most certainly is the epitome of a candlelit dinner if anyone had ever seen one. 

Wanderer tries to look unaffected as he digs into his own dinner but he finds himself tensing as you promptly take your first bite. You hardly even chew it before your eyes close in bliss and you moan out words of praise that make his chest burn with something akin to pride. 

"Your cooking is always so amazing,” you proclaim.

"This is nothing special. Any fool could make a decent pasta," Wanderer shrugs off.

He hopes his ears don’t look as red as they feel as he hurriedly shovels more pasta in his mouth just to have something else to focus on. Praise was something he had always sought–whether from his creator or a nameless mass of devout followers. It made him feel powerful, above all others, like an archon .

And yet, somehow, praise from you felt completely different. Your praises sent a flutter through his chest cavity that he was sure should not be physically possible. Rather than feeling stronger than anyone else, your praises made him feel just strong enough . Just worthy enough to exist, to atone for his sins, to stand beside you. And he thinks the most disturbing part of it all is how satisfied he is with just that. A vengeful, artificial god who once dreamed of ruling all of Teyvat now equally happy just being by your side–what a strange joke.

"But," you hesitantly start, breaking Wanderer from his self-reflections, "what's all of this for?"

His reply is simple, "today is the day of that silly holiday mortals celebrated in your world, isn't it."

You nearly choke on a noodle at the implication.

“We're celebrating Valentine's Day ?"

Wanderer shoots you an annoyed glare at your incredulous tone before abruptly pulling away from the dining table and approaching your side instead. You’re still seated and gaping at him like an idiot with a pair of chopsticks in your hand, a clump of noodles limply hanging off of them. 

"Of course,” he answers smoothly, “we're a couple now, aren't we? And you're quite lucky because my generosity today does not end with dinner."

Wanderer kneels down on one knee before you, a sight no one in Teyvat or even worlds beyond could have ever imagined possible for the egotistical puppet obsessed with the notion of reaching godhood. 

But Wanderer was no longer that vengeful Balladeer anymore. He is merely a wanderer, living as a mortal alongside the person who was somehow able to capture his nonexistent heart and give his life a newfound meaning filled with simple joys he never thought possible. And now, he can only hope to return just a fraction of the happinesses you have given him in the form of a little black velvet box. 

You audibly gasp when he pulls the small box out of his pants pocket, holding it out in front of you and opening it to reveal a silver ring. In the center of the thin metal band sits a decently sized diamond, accented with small amethyst gems that sparkle under the flickering candle light and remind you of the eyes of the man himself.

"Before you get the wrong idea–this isn't a proposal or anything," Wanderer grumbles, avoiding eye contact as his cheeks flush.

"it's just…a placeholder. I'll give you the real one in a few years." 

The last part is mumbled in such a low tone you would have missed it had you not been seated right in front of him.

Slowly–just long enough to have Wanderer’s stomach churning with his anxiety and second-guessing his every decision–your brain catches up and a slow grin splits across your face.

"Thank you, Kuni... it's beautiful," you whisper, eyes watery.

The use of his original names seems to amplify the intimacy of the moment. Wordlessly, Wanderer stands from his kneeled position, plucking the small piece of jewelry from the box and taking your hand with an unexpected gentleness. 

He slides the cool metal on your finger—the fourth finger of your left hand. 

For a moment, you both admire it in awe. He can’t help the first thought that pops into his head, the thought that it suits you. 

Like was always meant to be there. 

Like how he was always meant to be here, with you.

"I love you," you murmur. 

When he turns to look at you, he finds you already staring up at him, all soft smiles and twinkling eyes, as if he had personally hung the moon in the sky. As if he was the most important person in your world. As if his worth far exceeds anything he was created for and anything he imagined for himself thereafter. 

Wanderer doesn't say anything but he firmly squeezes your hand and brushes his thumb against the new ring on your delicate finger.

A placeholder. 

[donutloverxo]

Sugary 4k challenge masterlist

Thank you for all your wonderful entries. Challenge is still open till 30th April. Click here to join.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Andy Barber

A man's world by @gotnofucks

Summary: To advance in a man’s world, you must allow one to own you. He promises you success, as long as you give yourself to him.

Do what you please to me, I won't resist by @cloudystevie

Summary: you always take w,hat he gives you, diamonds and orgasms alike.

Maybe (Honey) by @anika-ann

Summary: You and your boyfriend Steve love each other; but money’s tight. You found and an unorthodox solution and decide to go through with it. Without Steve’s knowledge. Enter a very specific agency and Andy Barber.

Something sweet by @kleohoneyao3

Summary: Andy doesn’t mind flashing his cash to get what he wants. It always pays off in the end.

Strength in-between the breaks by @sweetlyscared

Summary: After witnessing a crime, you’re brought in to testify. You catch the eye of a certain lawyer, and soon after the case was wrapped, he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.

Oh well, imagine by @buckyownsmylife

Summary - The one where Andy gets tired of living a double life .

Rest of my life by @quietmyfearswith

Summary - While interviewing for Mr Barber's company's you catch the CEO's eye. He stalks you down and then sexy times ensue.

Chris Evans

Sugar by @buckybarnes101

Summary - Your sugar daddy Chris finally realises he's in love with you and wants you to be truly his.

Recommend a daddy by @nbarnes

Summary - When Addison runs out of money and is about to lose her house, her friends Auora and Sydney recommend to her a sugar daddy. Of course, there is one thing that is different to the other sugar daddy companies; there is a romantic relationship available.

Mike Weiss

Taste the riches of the earth by @the-iceni-bitch

Summary - You’ve been Mike’s sugar baby for a while, and as much as you want to deny it, you’re addicted.

Steve Rogers

Charming by @afriendlyblackhottie

Summary - Steve Rogers is a your sugar daddy. He takes care of you in every single way you can think of 👀👀

Clandestine meetings and stolen glances by @cruelfvkingsummer

Summary - Who knew Steve Rogers had kept such a pretty little secret? Or, the one where you were Peggy’s young, promising assistant until you became Steve Roger’s doll.

Daddy's intentions by @ironlady1993

Summary - Years after Thanos fall, the Avengers continue protecting the world. With new and younger members, Steve Rogers decided it was time to retire completely. After passing the Shield to Sam years ago, he stepped back as ‘Captain America’ focusing on his life for the first time after he woke up from the Ice. He could finally let his dark side, he so desperately had to hide, out. When he found Y/n, he could finally free the hungry beast in him, planning on turning her into his perfect little wife. And he knew how he would trap her into his arms forever.

i can be your china doll if you want to see me fall. boy, you’re so dope, your love is deadly by @chrisevansgoodgirl

summary: sugar daddy series: steve. so, i asked for help and you guys delivered, thank you! anonymous asked for wife/domestic kink. (the rest of your prompt might just be put in a part 2...)  anonymous 2 asked for artist reader and a lovely cute meeting at an art gallery. anonymous 3 asked for a respectful, gentleman steve never pushing boundaries and some vintage lingerie

Paper rings by @our-marvel-universe

Summary - All Steve ever wants to do is take care of you. 

Sweeter endings by @dollslayer

Summary: Still reeling from the financial realities of losing your mother you turn to a lucrative website for help and get more than you could have bargained for.

Misc.

You Can Be The Boss (Mob!Steve x reader x Mob!Bucky) by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Summary - Business Deals are done in the club most nights over liquor, drugs and you. Tonight is just like any other. You leave the stage to join your men while they deal with an ongoing issue. 

Ransom Drysdale

Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend by @simsadventures

Summary - Ransom buys you a gift and you surprise him when you wear it for the first time. Safe to say, it’s a very good surprise for both of you.

"it’s dark but just a game”, that’s what he would say to me by @chrisevansgoodgirl

summary: sugar daddy series: ransom. some spoiling, some fighting, some drunk ransom.

Private lessons by @glazedhoneywriting

Summary - Ransom Drysdale is the fuck and leave em type, a trail of broken hearts behind him but with such sexual skill, he ought to have learned it somewhere. And when his past pops up in a bar, Ransom is reminded of how he got so good at sex and who taught him the ropes.

Robert Pronge

i could be yours, i could be your baby tonight, topple you down from your sky forty stories high by @chrisevansgoodgirl

summary: sugar daddy series: robert pronge. your dad has a long list of interesting employees, robert being one. (very light sugar daddy, more so the beginning of the relationship bc you know, he’s a murderer and that’s complex to work around).

[faraway-wanderer]

BOOKS BY ASIAN AUTHORS MASTERLIST #stopasianhate

In light of recent events and the growing anti- Asian hate in the US and UK over the course of the pandemic I wanted to put together a masterlist of books by Asian authors. Obviously, it’s not extensive and there are HUNDREDS out there, but supporting art by Asian creators is a way of showing support; read their stories, educate ourselves. It goes without saying that we should all be putting effort into reading stories of POC and by POC because even through fiction we’re learning about different cultures, countries and heritages. So here’s some books to start with by Asian authors!

Here is a link also for resources to educate and petitions to sign (especially if you don’t read haha). It’s important that we educate ourselves and uplift Asian voices right now. Your anti-racism has to include every minority that faces it.

https://anti-asianviolenceresources.carrd.co/

for UK peeps, this is a good read: We may not hear about the anti Asian racism happening here, but it is definitely happening. https://www.harpersbazaar.com/uk/culture/culture-news/a35692226/its-time-we-stopped-downplaying-the-uks-anti-asian-racism/

 THE BOOKS:

·         War Cross- Marie Lu ( the worldbuilding in this is IMMENSE.)

For the millions who log in every day, Warcross isn’t just a game—it’s a way of life. The obsession started ten years ago and its fan base now spans the globe, some eager to escape from reality and others hoping to make a profit. 

·         Star Daughter- Shveta Thakrar

A beautiful story about a girl who is half human and half star, and she must go to the celestial court to try to save her father after he has fallen ill. And before she knows it, she is taking part in a magical competition that she must win!

·         These Violent Delights- Chloe Gong (I told my little sister to read this book yesterday bc she has a thing for a Leo as Romeo- so if you want deadly good looking Romeos, badass Juliet’s and to learn about 1920s Shanghai- this is for you.)

The year is 1926, and Shanghai hums to the tune of debauchery. A blood feud between two gangs runs the streets red, leaving the city helpless in the grip of chaos. A Romeo and Juliet retelling.

·         The Poppy War- R.F Kuang (My fave fantasy series just fyi- it’s soul crushing in the best way. Rebecca Kuang is a god of an author).

A brilliantly imaginative talent makes her exciting debut with this epic historical military fantasy, inspired by the bloody history of China’s twentieth century and filled with treachery and magic, in the tradition of Ken Liu’s Grace of Kings and N.K. Jemisin’s Inheritance Trilogy.

·         Loveboat Taipei-  Abigail Hing Wen  (Really heartwarming and insightful!)

When eighteen-year-old Ever Wong’s parents send her from Ohio to Taiwan to study Mandarin for the summer, she finds herself thrust among the very over-achieving kids her parents have always wanted her to be, including Rick Woo, the Yale-bound prodigy profiled in the Chinese newspapers since they were nine—and her parents’ yardstick for her never-measuring-up life.

·         Sorcerer to the Crown- Zen Cho (if anyone is looking for another Howl’s Moving Castle, look no further than this book)

At his wit’s end, Zacharias Wythe, freed slave, eminently proficient magician, and Sorcerer Royal of the Unnatural Philosophers—one of the most respected organizations throughout all of Britain—ventures to the border of Fairyland to discover why England’s magical stocks are drying up.

·         Emergency Contact- Mary H.K. Choi (very wholesome and fun rom-com!)

For Penny Lee high school was a total nonevent. When she heads to college in Austin, Texas, to learn how to become a writer, it’s seventy-nine miles and a zillion light years away from everything she can’t wait to leave behind.

 ·         Jade City- Fonda Lee (I am reading this currently and can I just say- I think everyone who loves fantasy and blood feuds in a story should read this.)

JADE CITY is a gripping Godfather-esque saga of intergenerational blood feuds, vicious politics, magic, and kungfu. The Kaul family is one of two crime syndicates that control the island of Kekon. It's the only place in the world that produces rare magical jade, which grants those with the right training and heritage superhuman abilities.

 ·         A Pho Love Story- Loan Le

When Dimple Met Rishi meets Ugly Delicious in this funny, smart romantic comedy, in which two Vietnamese-American teens fall in love and must navigate their newfound relationship amid their families’ age-old feud about their competing, neighbouring restaurants.

·         Rebelwing- Andrea Tang

Business is booming for Prudence Wu. A black-market-media smuggler and scholarship student at the prestigious New Columbia Preparatory Academy, Pru is lucky to live in the Barricade Coalition where she is free to study, read, watch, and listen to whatever she wants.

·         Wings of the Locust- Joel Donato Ching Jacob

Tuan escapes his mundane and mediocre existence when he is apprenticed to Muhen, a charming barangay wiseman. But, as he delves deeper into the craft of a mambabarang and its applications in espionage, sabotage and assassination, the young apprentice is overcome by conflicting emotions that cause him to question his new life.

 ·         The Travelling Cat Chronicles- Hiro Arikawa

Sometimes you have to leave behind everything you know to find the place you truly belong...

Nana the cat is on a road trip. He is not sure where he's going or why, but it means that he gets to sit in the front seat of a silver van with his beloved owner, Satoru. 

 ·         Super Fake Love Song- David Yoon

From the bestselling author of Frankly in Love comes a contemporary YA rom-com where a case of mistaken identity kicks off a string of (fake) events that just may lead to (real) love.

  ·         Parachutes- Kelly Yang

Speak enters the world of Gossip Girl in this modern immigrant story from New York Times bestselling author Kelly Yang about two girls navigating wealth, power, friendship, and trauma.

·         The Grace of Kings- Ken Liu ( One of the Time 100 Best Fantasy Books Of All Time!)

Two men rebel together against tyranny—and then become rivals—in this first sweeping book of an epic fantasy series from Ken Liu, recipient of Hugo, Nebula, and World Fantasy awards.

·         Wicked Fox- Kat Cho

A fresh and addictive fantasy-romance set in modern-day Seoul.

 ·         Descendant of the Crane- Joan He

In this shimmering Chinese-inspired fantasy, debut author Joan He introduces a determined and vulnerable young heroine struggling to do right in a world brimming with deception.

 ·         Pachinko- Min Jin Lee

Richly told and profoundly moving, Pachinko is a story of love, sacrifice, ambition, and loyalty. From bustling street markets to the halls of Japan's finest universities to the pachinko parlors of the criminal underworld, Lee's complex and passionate characters--strong, stubborn women, devoted sisters and sons, fathers shaken by moral crisis--survive and thrive against the indifferent arc of history.

·         America is in the Heart- Carlos Bulosan

First published in 1946, this autobiography of the well known Filipino poet describes his boyhood in the Philippines, his voyage to America, and his years of hardship and despair as an itinerant laborer following the harvest trail in the rural West.

 ·         Days of Distraction- Alexandra Chang

A wry, tender portrait of a young woman — finally free to decide her own path, but unsure if she knows herself well enough to choose wisely—from a captivating new literary voice.

·         The Astonishing Colour of After Emily X.R Pan

Alternating between real and magic, past and present, friendship and romance, hope and despair, The Astonishing Color of After is a novel about finding oneself through family history, art, grief, and love. 

·         The Gilded Wolves- Roshani Chokshi

It's 1889. The city is on the cusp of industry and power, and the Exposition Universelle has breathed new life into the streets and dredged up ancient secrets. Here, no one keeps tabs on dark truths better than treasure-hunter and wealthy hotelier Séverin Montagnet-Alarie. When the elite, ever-powerful Order of Babel coerces him to help them on a mission, Séverin is offered a treasure that he never imagined: his true inheritance.

·         When Dimple met Rishi- Sandhya Menon

Dimple and Rishi may think they have each other figured out. But when opposites clash, love works hard to prove itself in the most unexpected ways.

·         On Earth we’re briefly Gorgeous- Ocean Vuong

Poet Ocean Vuong's debut novel is a shattering portrait of a family, a first love, and the redemptive power of storytelling.

·         Fierce Fairytales- Nikita Gill

Complete with beautifully hand-drawn illustrations by Gill herself, Fierce Fairytales is an empowering collection of poems and stories for a new generation.

 BOOKS BEING RELEASED LATER THIS YEAR TO PREORDER:

·         Counting down with you- Tashie Bhuiyan- 4th May

A reserved Bangladeshi teenager has twenty-eight days to make the biggest decision of her life after agreeing to fake date her school’s resident bad boy.

How do you make one month last a lifetime?

·         Gearbreakers- Zoe Hana Mikuta- June 29th

Two girls on opposite sides of a war discover they're fighting for a common purpose--and falling for each other--in Zoe Hana Mikuta's high-octane debut Gearbreakers, perfect for fans of Pacific Rim, Pierce Brown's Red Rising Saga, and Marie Lu's Legend series

·         XOXO- Axie Oh- 13th July

When a relationship means throwing Jenny’s life off the path she’s spent years mapping out, she’ll have to decide once and for all just how much she’s willing to risk for love.

·         She who became the sun- Shelley Parker-Chan- 20th July

Mulan meets The Song of Achilles in Shelley Parker-Chan's She Who Became the Sun, a bold, queer, and lyrical reimagining of the rise of the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty from an amazing new voice in literary fantasy.

·         Jade Fire Gold- June C.L Tan- October 12th

Two girls on opposite sides of a war discover they're fighting for a common purpose--and falling for each other--in Zoe Hana Mikuta's high-octane debut Gearbreakers, perfect for fans of Pacific Rim, Pierce Brown's Red Rising Saga, and Marie Lu's Legend series

  Keep sharing, signing petitions and donating where you can. The more people who are actively anti-racist, the better. And if your anti-racism doesn’t include the Asian community then go and educate yourself! BLM wasn’t a trend and neither is this. We have to stand up against white supremacy, and racism and stereotypes and we have to support the communities that need our support. Part of that can include cultivating your reading so you’re reading more diversely and challenging any stereotypes western society may have given you.

 Feel free to reblog and add any more recommendations and resources of course!

[amelialincoln]

Need You

Ever since she snapped at him last week, Link had been trying desperately to not be affected by Amelia’s nightmares. Since Meredith had been put on the vent, there wasn’t a single night that his girlfriend hadn’t woken up sweating and thrashing like a maniac, and to say that it was concerning Link was an understatement.

“Amelia,” he hissed, into the darkness, while shaking her awake. Amelia sat up so abruptly she almost pushed him off the bed.

“What?” Her voice was thick with sleepiness. “Oh...fuck, sorry.” She pushed her curtain bangs out of her face and glanced at their bedside table to check the time.

“I can make some tea?” He offered.

“I’m literally fine, just go back to bed,” she replied dismissively.

“You’re shaking.” His hand brushed her bare shoulder affectionately.

She shrugged him off, sighing and mumbling, “I’m just gonna get a glass of water,” before tugging on one of Link’s hoodies and quietly leaving their bedroom. She paused at Scout’s makeshift bedroom in the office to peek inside. Like always, their little boy was sleeping soundlessly in his crib. She brushed a finger against his pudgy cheek, lingering for a moment and debating whether to pick him up. If she felt in control of one thing right now it was Scout. Making up for the three others, his first couple of weeks had been almost effortless. He was a movement baby for sure but Amelia didn’t mind. She’d simply put him in the wrap they’d bought and carried him around most of the day.

“If you wake him up he’s going to be grump tomorrow.” Link’s calm voice made her jump, her heart still racing from the nightmare.

“I know,” she whispered back resentfully, “I was just making sure he was okay.”

“Was that what your dream was about?” He pressed. “He’s safe, Mia, we always have the monitor running.”

“I know.” She ran a stressed hand through her hair before pushing past him and into the hallway and quietly walking down the old, creaky set of stairs. The sound of Link’s clunky footsteps followed her apprehensively and he wrapped his arms around her as she filled a glass of water at the sink. It was then that she started to sob. Link had witnessed a couple of Amelia breakdowns before but this time it was different.

“Hey, look at me,” he ordered as her breathing started to rapidly quicken, “deep breaths.”

“Link.” Her voice was as fragile as a china doll.

“You’re okay,” he assured her, resting his chin on the crown of her head.

“I’m falling apart trying to parent these kids for two weeks. If she dies. What’s supposed to happen to them? They’ve already lost their dad, “she was palming her chest as if her heart was physically hurting, “Derek, he’s gone.”

“Amelia it’s--”

“Scout. As he gets older. He looks more and more like him every day. I compare pictures of him and my brother as a baby and it’s almost terrifying. Our son is beautiful and perfect but every time I look at him, in some weird and twisted way, it’s like I’m looking at my brother.” She pulled out of his grasp, leaning over the kitchen counter. Link watched her turn a shade of white before throwing up into the sink.

“Mia.” He was cupping her hair out of her face a second later while she heaved. “You’re okay, it’s okay.” He was trying to find a way to console her as she grieved someone he’d never even met.

“It’s too much,” she groaned. “How are we supposed to take care of four children and not completely fall apart.”

“She’s going to pull through.” Link rubbed her upper back in circular motions, momentarily being taken back to nine months ago.

“You don’t know that,” Amelia gagged. “Bailey hates me enough. If I have to tell him--”

“Amelia, you won’t,” Link interrupted firmly. “Obsessing over the worst case scenario is making you sick.”

“How can you not though?” She winced, spitting out the last of their takeout dinner.

“Because if I keep telling myself that everything’s going to go back to normal soon, it makes every day more bearable. Do you think I don’t wish I was in the OR right now? Or raising Scout in our apartment like we planned?” Amelia shrugged, weakly lowering herself down onto one of the stools at the island. “Of course I do. But if that’s all I focus on, I'll start to go insane.”

“Join the club,” she chuckled darkly. “And if we’re putting everything out on the table. I don’t trust Winston.”

“Babe, what?” Link sighed. “You’re obsessing over things because you're stressed.”

“No, I’m not.” She slammed her fists down on the counter. “She disappeared with a guy we barely know anything about and when he came he got all weird about Jackson.”

“Cause he’s Maggie’s ex.” Link tried not to act condescending. “You think I don’t feel uncomfortable when I work with Owen?” It was like he was watching his girlfriend fall apart before his eyes.

“I saw what I saw,” she argued. “I’m not making stuff up in my head.” She placed her forehead in her palms. Link was about to make a joke about Deluca when he realized that he was dead too. Everything really was starting to look a little too depressing. Link shook his head, trying to shake the underlying, familiar feeling that was beginning to creep up on him.

“Can we go lie on the couch? I don’t know how to help you in any other way but to just hold you.” Amelia nodded through slow rolling tears, with an expression on her face that broke Link’s heart into millions of tiny pieces. “Come on, babe,” he sighed, lifting her into his arms and laying her onto Meredith’s couch, cradling her tightly as hours passed.

Amelia’s phone buzzing in the pocket of her sweat shorts finally woke them in the early hours of the morning and the little gasp that followed pulled the rest of the sleepiness out of Link.

“It’s the hospital.” Her shaky hands threatened to drop the phone as the couple stared at it with hesitation. “Dr. Shepherd,” Amelia finally answered, trying to mask any emotion in her voice. “Hey, Bailey. Do you...okay...yeah they’ve been good...yep you can tell her that…” Amelia’s voice broke a bit. “...tell her that they’re doing fine and that they miss her. Oh, and don’t forget about Bailey’s tooth...yep, one of his molars. Make sure she knows that...and Zola’s math test...yeah, an A. Am I on speaker?” Amelia grinned as tears rolled down her face. Link hugged her tightly into his chest, needing no explanation. “Ellis finally tried broccoli...yeah of course it was Link that convinced her...yep and she makes him read her five books every night...takes like half an hour. Scout’s good...yeah eating better now...still bites my nipples though,” she laughed. “Bailey too? Of course he did...okay...yeah of course...get some rest...bye...love you.” She put her phone down and practically tackled Link with a hug. “She’s off the vent.”

“I figured.”

“Her levels are going up by the hour.” She wiped the fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “She’s talking about some beach, Lexie and all this nonsense but they aren’t too concerned about it. Oh my god, Link, she’s okay.”

“Told you so,” he teased, trying to hide his relief. “She needs to come take back Hayes before Jo gets too ahead of herself.” Amelia laughed, shaking her head.

“Well, someone’s gotta tell her, that man’s heart beats for Meredith Grey. If anyone is happier than me right now, it’s him.”

[][][]

bc what tf was that interview w krista about Jo and hayes possibly having a romantic spark. like yes krista, jo making rude remarks and comparing hayes dead wife to alex is a great flirting tactic. i love jo but absolutely not. hayes is here for mer and only mer.

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Hey so I'm here to request cake, if it isn't than sorry for sending in this request but if it is than hi, ur writing is really good.

I'm very short like 4'11 maybe 5ft w/ shoes. I have blonde & black hair, glasses, and brown eyes. My body type is pretty petite/fit since i work out quite a lot.

I'm pretty introverted & quiet when you first meet me but once you get to know me i talk a lot (like an annoyingly large amount). I would say I'm pretty honest/blunt since i don't like sugarcoating things and i really suck at lying, I'm also kinda sarcastic & teasing to my friends. I'm also kinda a flirt, less because of my interest in someone and moreso to gauge people's reactions. My big three are virgo sun, leo rising, aries moon and as for my mbti I'm not really sure since i get different results all the time so the most i know about that is that I'm an IxTx (intp, intj, and istp are the results I've gotten).

I really like music and don't really listen to a specific genre but my favorite would probably have to be rock. My hobbies aside from music are art/drawing, reading, watching tv. I also really like horror movies/shows.

I like people who can be equally as sarcastic and competitive as me. My biggest pet peeve would probably be bad smells and i hate crowded areas.

I like the 90s/00s aesthetic a lot and i tend to like colorful things that have some edge to them. Similar to my music taste i don't dress in a specific style but I do often gravitate towards the 00's clothing (like delia's catalogues, platforms, baggy pants, mini skirts, crop tops, etc.)

@allthegoodusersaregone

Romantic Matchup

Tsukishima Kei

How Y’all Met

Ok so he always saw you around school

But he never talked to you

You we’re just so quiet

Honestly he’s never even seen you talk to someone besides basic conversations

So, he just stayed clear of tour path

However

You had decided to become a manager for the volleyball team

And Tsukki being his teasing self, started to pick a little fun at you

But he was SHOCKED when you just snapped back at him with some witty remark

He was like 😧

But his face was like 😐

He tried his best not to look phased by what you said

But he was definitely shocked

And a little impressed???

Like come on...

You just made a comeback to THE Tsukishima

Takes some guts

And some wit

Anyways over time you two developed a relationship

An odd relationship filled with teasing and sass

But a relationship nonetheless

And he hates to admit it but...

He was crushing on you

But mf would never ever tell you that

So, you would have to be the one to confess

He accepted your confession as nonchalantly as possible

But in the inside mans was bursting with joy

Tsukki on the outside: 😐🙄😏

Tsukki on the inside: 😍🥰❤️✨

What They Love About You

He loves how blunt you are

It annoys him when people just beat around the bush

He prefers that people just cut straight to the point

And you do just that

Almost brutally

But he doesn’t mind

He loves that your sarcastic

Oml he’s never met someone who can handle his sarcasm

And even throw back a few jabs

So he’s happy that his s/o is able to do both

Alright but of a weird one

He loves that your short

Because A: he thinks it’s funny

B: he thinks it’s cute

And C: if he ever runs out of roasts for you, he can always tease you for your height 😗

Favorite Things To Do Together

He likes to read with you

Just sitting on the couch with a good book and reading

Maybe some cuddles

Honestly he likes doing art with you 👀

He sucks at it

Tease him 😈

But he still likes doing it with you

He mayhaps keeps all of your sketches in a box 🤭

Didn’t hear it from me tho

OOF

LOVES TO WATCH HORROR MOVIES WITH YOUUUU

But teases the shit outta you if you get scared 🥲

But will still comforts you ❤️

Astrology

Virgo + Libra

When Virgo and Libra join together in a love match, it can be like puting two puzzle pieces together.

Each locks into the other and sits comfortably in place. Both Signs seek security in partnership, and they share a love of beauty and culture.

They can work together efficiently and smoothly because they desire similar rewards.

The Virgo-Libra relationship may trickle along in the beginning, but it will rev up once both partners grow to respect one another.

Virgo and Libra both appreciate superficial pleasures, and they often enjoy collecting bone china, art or photographs.

They also enjoy the theater and all forms of art. Practicality and pleasure are important to both Signs, and they compliment one another in many ways.

Virgo appreciates Libra’s charm and diplomacy, and Libra can even things out when Virgo doesn’t get their way.

Libra appreciates the Virgo love of order and the tangible rewards that come with it.

Additionally, Libra and Virgo are willing and able to see the different sides of an argument, and together they make decisions only after examining the facts.

Overall Aesthetic

2000 Babes

[wangxiandecoded]

Episode 3

Previous Episode | Next Episode

(Spoilers for the whole show ahead!)

Seeing Lan Zhan For The First Time

Ever since I saw the fanmade romcom trailer of the show, I can’t get the image of bridegroom Lan Wangji out of my head. His entry is so elegant and his presence throughout the show truly ethereal. (Wei Ying, you’re not even trying to hide those heart eyes. We get it! You’re impressed.)

Lan Zhan’s Character Growth

We only remember Lan Zhan as the guy who reserved all his emotions and smiles for Wei Ying, so rewatching the rigid, inflexible person he used to be kind of drives me crazy. Lan Zhan before he met Wei Ying started his journey as a lone, icy, untouchable snow-capped peak and by letting himself love and be loved by Wei Ying in return, the person he becomes in the end is like a warm, summery mountain shining with life and no trace of the glaciers that thawed over. His character evolution is no joke and it is only because Wei Ying’s companionship makes him more human and allows him to be the best version of himself. Lan Zhan’s arc is one of the best things in the show and the most rewarding reason to watch it.

Did I Just Meet The LOML

Lan Zhan taking note of his future soulmate showing off his intelligence right from the start. But shhh, he’s too much of a tsundere to admit that right now.

But Lan Zhan, What About The 9pm Curfew? 

Notice how Lan Zhan is up late at night waiting for Wei Ying, like a Good Obedient Boy from the Lan clan ready to catch a lawbreaker red-handed. Are we sure he has not simply mistaken his positive feelings for annoyance and found a way to spend more time with Wei Ying?

Wei Ying, my bro, I think you might be the moon in this case.

Flirting With The Law Enforcer? That’s One More Violation! 

It’s cute to watch their dynamics in the beginning, Wei Ying is already so familiar with Lan Zhan, tries to share his drink with him, teases him for the first of many times. And Lan Zhan just looks like “?????? Are you flirting with the law enforcer?! That is yet another violation of the Lan clan rules!”

Wei Ying coquettishly pushes Lan Zhan's sword into its sheath and the chase that comes next is the beginning of something monumental and exciting. 

(I understand preserving the original meaning is difficult in English translation but they really had Wei Ying call Lan Zhan inflexible only to follow it up with a beautifully choreographed fight sequence? Really?)

Wangxian’s First Meeting Is Romantic Cinematography At Its Finest

This scene right here is in my opinion, the most romantic scene to ever exist in all of fiction. If anyone tries to argue that Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are best bros, show them this scene. There is no hetero explanation for why it is so romantically shot. We have seen it countless times in fairytales. This is unmistakably the meeting of two people destined to be in love forever. It stole my breath the first time I saw it, and has done every time since. Like legit, it needs to be on top of those lists that boast the most iconic meetings in romantic history and taught in academic institutions worldwide.

First of all, a moonlit first meeting is enough to immortalize a story in our memory as being inherently romantic. But Wangxian are so effortlessly and picturesquely sword fighting (or should I say dancing?) on the rooftops, hair and clothes gently swaying to the tune of WuJi and thanks to the slow-motion closeups that make them glow like a live painting under the moonlight. 

(And surely I was not the only one who heard this random bell ringing at night and got reminded of wedding bells or the film ‘Your Name’? Lol!)  

We see that neither of them has the upper hand in the fight. This is important because it establishes they were born to be each other’s equals on the battlefield, something Zewu Jun points out later. (Just one of the many soulmate things Wangxian share.) I have no doubt Lan Zhan is freaking out wondering, who the fuck is this guy? How can he match my every strike and step without even uncapping his sword? 

In these above shots, there is a beautiful, unmissable symmetry in the way they are framed that drives it home that they are two halves of the same whole; their paths will be bound together, their perspectives will come to reflect each other. They are one and the same. The way they fight is also kind of intimate and very poetic. The super romantic backdrop and their placement shows that they are in perfect tandem and their chemistry is loud and luminous from the first time they meet. 

There is nothing straight about this scene. Not even the shot angle. Look! 

There is also something quite god-like and celestial about their meeting, like we are witnessing two prophesied immortal beings whose encounter is going to change the fate of the universe. And does it not, indeed?

I think I heard the moon longingly sigh in this scene because she felt so single. Honestly, understandable. It’s so maddening how two soulmates meeting for the first time can turn out to be this iconic, beautiful, brilliant, breathtaking and every other word you can think of. (We’re lucky Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan are used to dancing, the fight sequences are all so graceful. *chef’s kiss*)

I feel like this one scene reduced every straight romance I’ve ever seen to ashes. I’m honestly curious, can anyone outdo this in the future, gay or not? It has become The Standard for first meetings. I envy the talented, creative minds that envisioned and executed it.

TL;DR : The whole scene is drenched with a romantic field of vision meant specifically for the audience to swoon over.

“Lan Zhan!”

Wei Ying drops one of his two precious pots of Emperor’s Smile because Lan Zhan attacked them. Most people would just be mad in this situation but it's the first time Wei Ying calls him "Lan Zhan”. I wonder what led Wei Ying to have such an informality with Lan Zhan, who didn't consider him his friend until much later. It could be that it’s just who they are, two people with opposite personalities. But we don't see Wei Ying exhibit this closeness with strangers and yet he's whining Lan Zhan's name in that classic style of his, right from the first night they meet. Adorable! (Lan Zhan who owes him two bottles of Emperor’s Smile for breaking them spends the rest of his life buying them for Wei Ying.. In case you needed a reason to cry.)

Breaking The Rules & Breaking The Barriers To Lan Zhan’s Heart

Wei Ying actively criticizes the Lan clan’s rules and finds their teaching unreasonable. He thinks drinking Emperor’s Smile when he’s sitting on the roof technically doesn’t count as being “inside” the Cloud Recesses where alcohol is banned. A small detail but it shows Wei Ying’s gift of seeing through the grey areas in morality. It is a trait that ultimately influences Lan Zhan to shed the hard and fast ideas of orthodoxy he was raised on and share Wei Ying’s quest for justice. This makes both of them the only people inside the world of The Untamed who are able to see the deep-seated problems in the existing system and question them. Their love story is inextricably tied with rewriting the laws of their world and if that does not make The Untamed the most revolutionary romance to ever exist, I don’t know what does. 

Lan Zhan Really Just Cares A Lot

Turns out Lan Zhan didn’t let the Yunmeng Jiang clan stay out in the dark after all. Love how he’s Gay Gripping his sword in panic and backing away from Wei Ying because he doesn't want him to know he's a good person whose heart is in the right place. You know, because that's a horrible reputation for his tsundere persona to have. Zewu Jun takes one for the team and blows his cover, which becomes a common occurrence in the show. Wei Ying is also quick to apologize to him like, “I had a good feeling about you!” when we’ve seen he rarely does that with disciples from other clans. 

President In Action

The conversation between Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun needs no analysis and the latter’s triumphant smirk in the end when Lan Zhan walks off is all the evidence you need that He Knows What’s Up. I love how Zewu Jun probably sits around like, "I have to personally do something or my dumbass brother is going to spend his whole life alone, when he's clearly met his soulmate and is too blind to admit it." Thank you, President of the Wangxian club. We do not deserve you.

What Did Wei Ying Mean?

Wei Ying says all the female suitors from all the clans admire Lan Zhan without knowing how cold and rigid he really is, and he doesn’t complete his sentence because Lan Zhan uses the silencing charm on him. What did he mean by this? What were you going to do, Wei Ying?! 

Episode 3 gives us insight into the inception of their romance and we see every moment since the beginning has been tailor-made to tell the audience this is going to be a love story set against fantasy-driven, action-packed odds in ancient China. 

[spockandawe]

So! I got that question last night about whether my xiyao fic took place before or after Jin Guangyao killed Nie Mingjue and his father, and like I said, part of my immediate reaction was ‘I don’t know, does it even matter?’ but I wanted to shake that idea a little and see what else shook out, because I wrote that fic from Lan Xichen’s point of view on purpose, and there are all kinds of things he’s not aware of. I’m long-winded, have a cut.

From a practical pov perspective, it genuinely does not matter whether or not Jin Guangyao has done those particular murders yet, because Lan Xichen isn’t going to find out about it until after Wei Wuxian’s resurrection. With me writing from his point of view, he’s going to be a bit sadder after Nie Mingjue dies, but that’s not necessarily something that will noticeably impact this relationship, other than maybe cherishing his surviving sworn brother a little bit more. And maybe he’ll be a little more at ease after Jin Guangshan dies and someone he, trusts on a personal level is leading the Jin Sect, but that’s just an extra degree of complication to whether or not they could do a relationship period, and there was already plenty of complication to go around.

And on the level of a wider perspective, like..... does it matter if Jin Guangyao has done these two extra murders? Both of them went through the sunshot campaign and are very acquainted with all kinds of ugliness and death by now. Jin Guangyao was a double agent under Wen Ruohan, and in just the little piece of that we’re shown, we see him very casually killing some Nie Sect people to maintain his cover (or in case he needs to side with the winning team, whatever). And after the war is over and his father gives him his very conditional recognition, he gets pressed into service as his father’s torturer. He’s already up to his elbows in blood, and Lan Xichen knows that, and still canonically cares deeply for him and trusts him anyways, whether that care is platonic or not.

Also, as a side note, I have seen people who do give attention to those atrocities instead of just picking out two deaths from a whole cheese platter of them, and I find it really interesting how much less grace is given to Jin Guangyao than is given to characters like Wei Wuxian. Some of that is down to natural sympathy with a likeable pov character, but like... Lan Wangji witnessed the end of Wei Wuxian’s brutal torture campaign with Wen Chao, for example, but people don’t expect them to sit down and have a conversation about it, never mind have a moralizing conversation about how ‘wei ying, you know that was very naughty of you, and you’d better realize it was wrong and bad and never do it again.’ All of the characters except the youngest generation have lived through a lot of awful things, and that’s... numbing. I would be shocked to see any of them sit down and discuss it openly, never mind expect it from them before they’re permitted to be loved.

Now, back to JIn Guangyao’s murders. Would Lan Xichen knowing about those two particular extra deaths matter? Yeah, definitely. Lan Xichen also cared very deeply for Nie Mingjue, and having your father raped to death is all kinds of fucked up, plus there are the cultural taboos about killing your dad, etc. But I would also argue that in the story, Jin Guangyao tries shields Lan Xichen from the ugliest parts of himself. It gets a little complicated to provide textual explanations for this, because they both spend most of their time off screen, and I’m not going to get pulled into an long side tangent, but bear with me.

But just from a character perspective, it only makes sense. At a bare minimum, it’s protecting himself. He’s terrified of everyone and everything, he says. Nobody is more aware than he is of how precarious his social position is, and his father did nothing to help him with that. Lan Xichen likes him and trusts him, even though he knows some of the terrible things he’s done. So why wouldn’t Jin Guangyao shield him from the things that might turn Lan Xichen against him? And if self-preservation also aligns with not hurting Lan Xichen as well... Why wouldn’t he avoid hurting Lan Xichen? We see him handling him gently at other times, even after he was in a position where he could have used force. I do wish very much that we could have gotten in his head in canon, but reading into the motivations behind his actions is half the fun, so what do I know, haha. 

I’m not going to convince anyone who’s like ‘bluh bluh jin guangyao never cared for a single person in the world beside himself’, but I honestly think that makes the character profoundly boring and also doesn’t make much sense. Even if he only ever cared for one (1) person beside himself (still think that’s a boring read, but hey), then that person would have been Lan Xichen. It isn’t a one-way street, where Jin Guangyao just takes and takes. He helped Lan Xichen rebuild he cloud recesses. Even if that got him a closer ally and stronger political alliance, it wasn’t a necessary gesture to make. Nobody would have criticized him for just standing by and not spending piles of money on the rebuilding. He didn’t help Lanling Jin the same way, after all. I’m getting lost down this rabbit hole, but my point is that while it’s not that hard to read mercenary motivations into any one single thing he does, there is a pattern of behavior in his treatment of Lan Xichen particularly, and that pattern makes the most sense if care and compassion are involved. Jin Guangyao’s motivations when it comes to Lan Xichen make the most sense when they’re at the intersection of self-preservation and affection, and other reads on him just are not nearly as compelling to me.

Anyways! Back on topic. If there’s a xiyao relationship while JIn Guangyao is Jin Guangyao, even if he hasn’t killed Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangshan yet, he’s... probably at least thinking about it. He’s maybe working on it a lil bit in the background. And one, he’s already an experienced torturer tho, and two, Lan Xichen already cares about him even though he’s a torturer. I think it’s actually much more interesting to try to determine where the story falls in terms of where Jin Guangyao stands in regards to Xue Yang. Is he actively collaborating with him yet? Is he actively providing him with materials? Even if Lan Xichen would have a hard time forgiving Jin Guangyao for what he did to Nie Mingjue, I also think he’s capable of understanding why Jin Guangyao was so terrified when it came to Nie Mingjue. Even if he didn’t agree with him in the end, I think he would be able to listen and understand. He would just go into a horrible conflicted deadlock of grief and emotions and withdraw to seclusion for the foreseeable future. I think it would be much, much more damaging to Lan Xichen to know that Jin Guangyao was feeding a supply of innocent people to Xue Yang for experimenting. 

In the end, it’s rarely an interesting question to me of how many bad things a given character has done at any given point in a shippy story like the one where I got this question, because like... This fictional mass murderer from ancient fantasy china is still capable of love, so. Now, am I talking about JIn Guangyao? Or am I talking about Xue Yang? Wei Wuxian? Jiang Cheng tortured and killed a bunch of demonic cultivators, but like.... still want him to reconcile with his brother tho. What kind of boring reading would I be doing if nobody involved was allowed to make a bad decision ever? A chronic series of bad decisions? Xuexiao is so compelling to me because of the sheer amount of terrible decisions Xue Yang has made before he starts wanting to be loved. Wei Wuxian comes back from the dead exhausted and wrung out and dragged down by the weight of his first life. He’s confronted by people who are like ‘it’s your fault I lost my leg!’ or whatever, and Lan Wangji doesn’t pull away to be like ‘wow, that man is right, that is really terrible of you, let’s have a conversation until you tearfully self-flagellate enough to earn my love again.’

So the question about my fic doesn’t really have an answer. Has Jin Guangyao killed Nie Mingjue or his father yet? Idk! Haha, probably! Or he’s at least working on it, he’s a busy little bee. And none of that has any bearing at all on his ability to love Lan Xichen (except now that i think about it, their deaths would probably make it easier for him to have that conversation, because there are fewer external threats to his safety, and he has more space to consider voluntarily allowing more vulnerability into his life). Would knowledge of those deaths impact Lan Xichen’s ability to love him? They would make it a lot more hecking complicated, that’s for sure, but that is also the canonical seasoning of this relationship, platonic or romantic. And, incidentally, it’s the exact spice I crave. I would have no interest in this relationship if they were two perfect angels, I am here because Lan Xichen is an absolute doll, and Jin Guangyao both cherishes him above everything else and has deliberately done terrible things that wounded him deeply. That’s the appeal.

[alice-in-wonderart]

Could you do marriage proposal headcanons for the junior quartet (Sizhui, Jingyi, Jin Ling and Zizhen), pretty please?

Oof, I apologise for the wait, dear. This got much longer than anticipated- regardless, I hope you enjoy me clowning the juniors. After all, proposing isn't easy.

Jin Ling

Panic. Panic. Panic. Panic. Panic. Panic.

"Why do I have to propose?! Can't she?!"que angry whailing from the Juniors.

No, in all honesty, Jin Ling would be utterly out of it. The moment he realizes he wants to spend his life with you hits him in the face like a brick. And suddenly he doesn't know what to do with himself... So he turns to his friends, who of course, tease him like hell for it.

Ultimately, they help him set up some sort of plan - the plan of taking you out and proposing. The whole idea was for him take a day off from being a sect leader to spend it with you, which turned into an impromptu mini trip to Yunmeng. And so the plan is set in motion.

But nothing ever goes as planned, does it? For the most part - it went okay. He took you around Yunmeng, showing you anything and everything interesting, reminiscing even. But you knew something was off - Jin Ling was jittery, much more unruly and quick to anger than usual.He was blushing like crazy at the simplest of touches. In fact, he was a walking time bomb ready to explode any second. And- it did.

It did, when work found him anyways. Urgent business he had to discuss with his uncle, apparently something which couldn't wait. He wasn't even listening to the logistics of it, his mind was on you - who was going to have to wait for him patiently. Not only that, but because of said work - you'd have to stay longer than expected. (Maybe he should have warned his Jiujiu about his plan, but such smart decision-making doesn't run in the family)

And, you see, usually this wouldn't bother him much, but when he had meticulously *tried* to plan a PROPOSAL, things were very different. So, coming out after a few hours of endless work, he's pissed - at himself, at work, at life...and he yells at you. He yells at you for asking why he's been acting strange all day, frustration falling from his lips like a sinner's confession.

"Strange?! You have no idea what is going on, do you!? No, of course you don't! Ugh. My entire plan got ruined!! This is a disaster!!"

And you'd have to calm him down, that no - nothing was a disaster, you had fun, Yunmeng was lovely, you'd love to stay a bit more. And once again it was proven to him, that there is nobody in the entire world he'd rather spend his days with.

"Okay, look. I know I'm not perfect. I can be rash, hot-tempered, bad-mannered. I'm a sect leader, I'm always busy. And even now, when I tried to make everything perfect for you, it still failed. And here I am, standing in front of you, feeling like an absolute lovestruck moron, like you're my first crush and I just lose my train of thought around you. And-

Goddamn it, I love you, I love you with all of my heart. And I want to show you that everyday. I want to give you everything, I want to give you the world and - I just want to know if- you'dwanttomarryme?"

Lan Sizhui

Sizhui knew very well, that one day he was going to marry you - after all, you were his light, his soulmate. His first love, his world. You stayed with him through thick and thin already, you were his support, his treasure. And he simply couldn't imagine a world without you.

But proposing didn't come as naturally as he'd expected. After having witnessed WangXian in its full potential, having been a part of their wedding, and knowing fully well how it should go down, he still felt a tad too lost and decided to ask for advice.

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were very supportive, albeit teasing. Ultimately they were of little help outside of support, suggesting (WWX) all kinds of crazy proposals, from poems, to serenades, to fireworks, wild animals, crazy adventures. Lan Wangji suggested simply asking, which also didn't quite sit right with Sizhui. He was never one for the extravagant show-off performances, but a little more care would never hurt anybody.

Ultimately, he decided to ask you during one of your occasional evening walks around Gusu. He'd told you to wait for him outside a tad later than expected. That of course caught your attention, since Lan Sizhui was never one to break rules, but the little night date was set in motion regardless.

Walking around the back mountain and near the pond with the bunnies, he felt his hands sweat a bit, while waiting for the right moment. He seemed much more distracted than usual, a light pink dusting his cheeks. Soon he found himself kneeling next to you, as you were holding one of the white fluffballs in your hands, lovingly petting it.

"I could stay like this forever" he'd hear fall from your lips. Or perhaps it was something else? He wasn't listening.

"You can..I mean- we can. Just you and me." he'd mumble, gently taking one of your hands in his. He took a deep shaky breath. The bunny jumped off you and he gently caressed the palm of your other hand, before pulling it slightly to his heart. The questioning look you gave him made his heart skip a beat..or two. He smiled warmly at you.

"I..called you out here for a reason actually. I've never actively looked for love, never thought I might find it, yet here you are. And I love you very much, much more than I have the words to express. And you see, everytime I look at you, I can't help but imagine a bright future with you, together, as partners. Even now, my heart beats so fast around you, I fear it might jump right out of my chest. No amount of eloquent poetry or masterfully crafted music can contain everything that I feel for you."

He stopped and moved to kiss your knuckles. "And through it all, we stayed together. You know me better than I know myself. And I know now, that I can't imagine a life without you in it. With all the love and respect I have for you, I'm asking you if you'd like to marry me?"

Lan Jingyi

Let's say your cultivation level isn't the best for the sake of the scenario lol

Panic. Panic. Panic. Panic. Panic - Part 2

Oh wow, something scarier than ghosts - commitment love.

Jingyi is lost. He knows he loves you more than anything and he's pretty sure you love him too but- marriage?! He's never had to deal with...that!? Out of desperation, he'd turn to Lan Xichen, who would give him the unhelpful advice of "Follow your heart and see where it leads you." thx m8, rly helpful.

At the end, he'd simply decide to ask you outright. And he was going to propose to you after the upcoming night hunt. He'd imagined it so romantic - him, returning to you, adrenaline-high and sweeping you off your feet with a proposal even the gods would envy.

But then you just HAD to request joining the night hunt. And Lan Xichen had the audacity to agree!

Each time he'd look at you, his heart would skip a beat, his face would flush and he'd forget his own name. It wasn't fair - that you decided to accompany him on his night hunt, since now he had a constant distraction. And of course, he'd complain about it. Not only did he have to look after himself, but now you too? Why was life so cruel?!

And of course, you'd just giggle with your perfect melodic voice and assure him you'd be perfectly fine, and that if something were to happen, you'd be safe and sound next to him. And of course his heart would do a 360 and run an entire marathon. Who needed sanity anyways? Not him, nope.

But night hunts aren't always safe. And that night, resentful energy had seeped much deeper within their hunting grounds than usual, bringing about an army of spirits to roam the dark forests. And when a few decided to sneak-attack, things took a turn for the worst, quicker than expected.

The ambush, of sorts, left you vulnerable, when everybody else ran in all directions, dealing with the spirits at hand. And as much as Jingyi was keeping an eye on you, in the dark of the night, amongst the resentful ghosts, he lost track of you. And panic struck over unlike anytime before. At once his fear of ghosts was utterly deminished and a single thought flooded his mind - where are you?

He stopped in the middle of the battle ground, looking at every direction imaginable. And surely enough - there you were, about to be attacked by a spirit.

And Lan Jingyi saw red. In the blink of an eye, he was in front of you, dead set on protecting you until the very end of time. And that he did.

Once the threat was taken care of, he turned to you, no disregard whatsoever about the others around him, and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, asking over and over if you're okay, if you're hurt and if you needed anything.

After having to assure him, that you are in good health, he pulled away from the hug, only to grab you by the shoulders and leave a quick kiss on your lips. Lan be damned, he nearly lost you.

"Forget anything, what if I wasn't there on time?! I just realised how unpredictable this life can be and now how do you expect me to rest peacefully, without you safe by my side? I almost lost you just now! How could I live with myself if that happened? God, this job is so dangerous! We live a life where any second could be our very last and I can't stand that thought! Let me protect you for all eternity and marry me!"

*cue dead silence from half of the Lan clan and a severely amused Wangxian.

Ouyang Zizhen

I call him - a modern day teenager in ancient China, which applies to his idea of marriage as well.

Out of all of the Juniors, he'd be the most set on actually proposing the "right way" - whatever that meant.

To him, a day meant for a proposal was a day meant for spoiling. It was a "show my love I'm ready to do anything for them" day. Was he an absolute nervous wreck? Yes. Was he showing it? ....well. That's arguable. Did you absolutely know something was off with him? Of course. You'd spend enough of your life with Zizhen to know him like your own name.

So, when he came up to you, gingerly asking if you'd like to go downtown for a little walk, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, you knew you were in for a wild ride - after all, that's one of Ouyang Zizhen's many charms - the adventurous spirit. ( ugh, he's such a Sagittarius. Don't @ me, we don't know his bday)

Upon setting foot in the middle of the town, he turned to you and smiled brightly. "Anything you pick today is all yours. Anywhere you want to go, we go. Anything you want to eat - will be given to you." And he meant it.

He didn't expect you to, however, disregard all of that, instead choosing to spend the day with him, simply walking around and talking. Perhaps drinking a cup of tea. And he followed your humble request, of course.

Yet he still wanted to spoil you - from the freshly baked goods further down the street, to some pretty hair ornament he absolutely insisted would look lovely on you. He just wanted to show you how much you meant to him. Alas, he just wasn't sure how.

He proudly strode by your side, hand in hand, despite his bashfulness, loving every minute spent with you. You ran around, enjoying each other's company, listening to the funny gossips, petting all kinds of animals in the streets, all until you got to a street musician. (I swear those have existed back then - I've seen a documentary, but if I'm wrong, do correct me ✌️ )

He ran up to him and whispered something you couldn't hear, then payed him. The musician in question smiled in return to him and changed the song to one you both recognised and loved. Turning to you with the most bashful of smiles, Zizhen spoke in a fairly hushed tone. "And this - this is for you."

Through a painfully big smile, you couldn't help but ask whether you were forgetting an anniversary, or if it was your birthday and you hadn't realised. The slight worry that you had forgotten some important day threw him off immediately and he frantically waved his hands. "Oh no, no, no. You haven't forgotten anything!" Then he grabbed your hand and turned to you fully.

"Today isn't an anniversary, but I was hoping it could be in the future... We've been together through so much and I wanted to repay you for all of the kindness, understanding, and love that you're giving me. And before you argue that repaying isn't an option, let me finish first. Sometimes I lie in bed at night, wondering what I've done to deserve you, what wonderful hero I must have been in a past life to have you here next to me. And then I always hear your beautiful voice in my head, reminding me, that you're here to stay and I just can't believe it. I wanted to make this day special for you, because I love you and I appreciate everything you've done for me. And well..there is one more thing. I've thought long and hard about this and... Well... I can't help but wonder, if you'd want to stay with me until the very end and marry me?"

Thank you for reading~

[barinacraft]

Hot Toddy Drink - Far East Of Scotland Long Before The Cocktail

The Toddy Was Hot Before The Cocktail Became Old Fashioned

Or cold maybe. Point is, the Toddy, hot or cold, was old-fashioned before the Old Fashioned was ever even fashioned.

Although many, including ourselves, associate the Toddy with whisk(e)y, honey, lemon juice, hot water and maybe some nutmeg, cloves or cinnamon, technically its just whisky, sugar and H2O. Add some bitters and you have an Old Fashioned which, ingredient-wise, is the very definition of a cocktail.*

History Of The Toddy

A British Chaplain Travels With The East India Trading Company

The earliest reference to the word Toddy may have been when it was included in the notes observed by Edward Terry, then Chaplain to the Right Honorable Sir Thomas Row, Knight, Lord Ambassador to the Great Mogul, in 1615-1619 during his Voyage To East India.†  These records later became published as a book of the same name in 1655.

Liquor From The Toddy Tree

“And here I cannot choose but take notice of a very pleasant and clear liquor, called Toddy, issuing from a spongy tree, that grows straight and tall without boughs to the top, and there spreads out in tender branches, very like unto those that grow from the roots of our rank and rich artichokes, but much bigger and longer. This toddy-tree is not so big, but that it may be very easily embraced, and the nimble people of that country will climb up as fast to the top thereof (the stem of the tree being rough and crusty) as if they had the advantage of ladders to help them up. In the top tender branches of those trees they make incisions which they open and stop again as they please, under which they bang pots made of large and light gourds, to preserve the influence which issues out of them in a large quantity in the night season, they stopping up those vents in the heat of the day.

“That which thus distills forth in the night, if it be taken very early in the morning, is as pleasing to the taste as any new white wine, and much clearer than it. It is a very piercing, medicinal, and inoffensive drink, if taken sooner in the day, only it is a little windy; but if it be kept later until the heat of the day, the sun alters it so as if it made it another kind of liquor, for it becomes then very heady, not so well relished, and unwholesome; and when it is so, not a few of our drunken seamen choose to drink it; and I think they so do, because it will then presently turn their brains; for there are too many of the common sort of those men who use the sea, who love those brutish distempers too much, which turn a man out of himself, and leave a beast in the skin of a man.

“But for that drink, if it be taken in its best, and most proper season, I conceive it to be of itself very wholesome, because it provokes urine exceedingly; the further benefit whereof some there have found by happy experience, being thereby eased from their torture inflicted by that shame of physicians, and tyrant of all maladies, the kidney stone. And so cheap too is this most pleasing wine, that a man may there have more than enough for a very little money.” ~ Reverend Edward Terry

Hot Tadi Turns To Hooch

So, if left to ferment in the heat of the day, this “Hot Toddy” becomes an intoxicating liquor and by all accounts also turns sour and bitter like vinegar. Combine this with the age old practice of adding sugars to wine, cider and other beverages to sweeten the taste along with a specific mention in the Accounts of India and China as far back as AD 890 which says of Ceylon (present day Sri Lanka); “Their drink is made of Palm honey boiled and prepared with the Tari (pronounced Tadi), the juice which runs from the tree” and all you need is a little water to complete the recipe.

One theory has Scotsman returning from the Far East embracing the term Toddy as a nickname for an alcoholic drink with those generic ingredients. Just substitute Scotch whisky for fermented tadi, sugar for palm honey and add water.

Scotch Springs Eternal From Tod's Well

A second, more widely accepted theory on the origins of the Hot Toddy (in western culture as opposed to the Far East where it is still alive and well in its historical version there) centers around one of Edinburgh, Scotland's city water sources, Tod's well, affectionately known as Toddy and some early poets' prose. First some history on the Todian spring and then a pair of Scots will wax poetic.

In 1681, Peter Brauss brought water into Edinburgh, Scotland from Tod spring in Comiston through a system engineered by George Sinclair where gravity fed the supply via a series of 3 inch diameter lead pipes built by Robert Mylne.‡, 1 - 2  Comiston springs at Tod's well was located on the Pentland Hills about 3 miles to the south of Edinburgh and the aqua duct originally channeled its flow into five stone wells along High Street, part of the Royal Mile in between the Edinburgh Castle in the heart of the city and Holyrood Palace near Arthur's Seat Volcano, home to a pair of another of the city's spring fed water sources, St. Margaret's and St. Anthony's wells.

The cisterns were located at multiple heights in the Old Town and women 'caddies' would gather to draw water from the wells for their homes. The system was a significant public works project benefiting everyone's health and was later improved in 1720 by increasing the main water pipe from Comiston into the city to a 4 1/2 inch diameter which more than doubled its capacity.

The Morning-Interview. An Heroi-Comical Poem by Allan Ramsay (MDCCXIX)

This 1719 mock heroic ode to courtship which parodies the struggles of a beau hoping to overcome his foe is often cited as a key piece of literature which some say proves the etymological history of the toddy is based in Scotland and not the Far East. In the lead up to the poem's ending shown below, the epic romantic passion is emphasized with great comedic effect.

The ninth stanza both highlights and summarizes the poem's main storyline when Celia awakens to answer the door to her apartment dressed only in the loose attire of her morning gown. Expecting that her cousin Frankalia had come to take her morning tea, her initial pale surprise to see Damon standing there instead turns into a blushing red exchange. Here's the last 3 of the 16 verse stanzas:

A sumptuous Treat does crown the ended War,

And all rich Requisites are brought from far.

The Table boasts its being from Japan,

The ingenious Work of some great Artisan.

China, where Potters coarsest Mold refine,

That Light through the transparent Jar does shine,

The costly Plates and Dishes are from thence,

And Amazonia must her Sweets dispense;

To her warm Banks, our Vessels cut the Main,

For the sweet Product of her luscious Cane;

Here Scotia does no costly Tribute bring,

Only some Kettles full of Todian Spring.3

Where Indus and the Double Ganges flow,

On odoriferous Plains the Leaves do grow;

Chief of the Treat, a Plant the Boast of Fame,

Sometimes called Green, BOHEA's its greater Name.

O happiest of Herbs! Who would not be

Pythagorized into the Form of Thee,

And with high Transports act the Part of TEA?

Kisses on thee the haughty Belles bestow,

While in thy Steams their coral Lips do glow;

The Virtues and thy Flavor they commend;

While Men, even Beaux, with parched Lips attend.

Teetotalling Tod

Much ado has been made about the inclusion of the Todian Spring and how the author specifically calls out in the footnotes that it is in reference to Tod's Well. This has been interpreted as meaning kettles full of Toddy which by association then translates to whisky since the word whisky is derived from water and it was a common custom of the day for whisky to be invoiced as aqua in Scotland.4

But, maybe it actually means just what it says and this is much ado about nothing.

After all, all the other objects mentioned directly relate to those items needed for a tea party. You have a table from Japan, the place setting from China as well as the tea (Bohea is a type of black oolong tea), and sugar from the Amazon river banks in South America. All you need is H2O, so why would the inclusion of actual water from the Todian spring be construed to mean Toddy, therefore meaning whisky?

In fact tea was becoming such a common drink in Scotland that in 1742 Duncan Forbes, Lord Culloden, the President of the Court of Session is quoted as saying, “the meanest families, even of laboring people, particularly in burroughs, make their morning's meal of it, and thereby wholly disuse the ale which heretofore was their accustomed drink; and the same drug supplies all the labouring women with their afternoons' entertainments, to the exclusion of the Twopenny.” 5  The last refers to a Scotch pint of pale ale, the equivalent of two quarts, which sold for two pence each a.k.a twopenny ale.

Another implication of tracing Toddy back to here is that it also suggests waking to whisky was wanton. Was it?

Holy Mother Of Toddy

And finally in 1785, from the garbled Gaelic of Robert Burns, a Scotty speaks of Toddy. In "The Holy Fair," the National Poet of Scotland satirically describes what had become a common phrase in the west of Scotland for the biennial gathering to celebrate the sacramental occasion of communion.6

This was no prim and proper formal ritual either. It was a party, and the often unruly crowds of strangers would sometimes toss decency out the window in exchange for questionable behavior. Wonder if you had to bring your own Toddy or was the bar stocked?

The Holy Fair by Robert Burns

Heres a partial passage from the poem pertaining to the potation:

Leeze me on drink! it gies us mair

Than either school or college;

It kindles wit, it waukens lear,

It pangs us fou o' knowledge:

Be't whisky-gill or penny wheep,

Or ony stronger potion,

It never fails, or drinkin deep,

To kittle up our notion,

By night or day.

The lads an' lasses, blythely bent

To mind baith saul an' body,

Sit round the table, weel content,

An' steer about the toddy:

The Toddy reference here is pretty clear. However, this opens up another question. In the Eucharist or Holy Communion, isn't the blood of Christ supposed to be wine and not whisky? Let's not go there.

Meanwhile, Back In The States

All this talk of Toddy's Scottish heritage is all the more confusing when you consider that the U.S. appears to have beaten them to the (publishing) punch some 35 years earlier. Toddy was the talk of the town in “the July 1750 issue of the Boston Weekly Post Boy, and the ‘fashionable’ Toddy, as the Newport, Rhode Island, Mercury dubbed it in 1764 was a fixture of American tippling for a century or more.” 7

It looks like, at least for now, America lays claim to the first known recipe for the Toddy as well. The American Herbal, or Materia Medica by Samuel Sterns was printed in Walpole, New Hampshire (1801).

Toddy (New Nation punch formula in the Age of Jefferson):

24 oz  water

8 oz  rum or brandy

a little sugar

a little nutmeg

Add the rum or brandy and the sugar to the water, and after stirring, the nutmeg. Author notes that “It is called a salutary liquor, and especially in the summer season, if it is drank with moderation.”

The Toddy Is Well Represented In The First Ever Cocktail Book

There's tons of Toddies in How To Mix Drinks, or The Bon-Vivant's Companion by Jerry Thomas (1862). The Brandy, Gin and Whiskey Toddy, no Rum is included, are all pretty much the same recipe.

[ Insert Name Of Preferred Spirit Here ] Toddy Drink:

2 oz  Brandy, Gin or Whiskey (chosen names the recipe i.e. Gin Toddy)

1 oz  water

1 tsp  sugar

1 small lump of ice

Use a small bar glass and stir with a spoon. The only Hot Toddy specifically called out among these three liquors is for Brandy where you omit the ice and use boiling water instead.

A side note elsewhere in this book under a description of punch has Jerry instructing Hot Toddy / Hot Punch makers that they must put in the spirits before the water. This was moved to the Hints and Rules For Bartenders section, like these home bar how-tos, and was changed to a rapid rinse of hot water first to aid in the prevention of heat cracking the glass in his 1886 Bartender's Guide.

By the time you add in the recipes for Sangarees, Slings & Skins (detailed more below), there are a slew of similar sips with a single standout, the Apple Toddy. Sort of a Hot Apple Pie Cocktail with real fruit filling.

Apple Toddy Drink Recipe:

2 oz  cider brandy or applejack

1 tbs  fine white sugar

½  baked apple

Roast the apples; cored, peeled and cut in half with some sugar and nutmeg; in the oven in a baking pan with boiling water until soft. About 30 minutes at 375 degrees Farenheit. Add the baked apple, sugar and brandy to a small bar glass. Fill ⅔ full of hot water and garnish by grating some nutmeg on top.

Mr. Thomas does give an honorable mention to the Indian intoxicate stating that Arrack, mainly used to flavor punch here in America, improves with age and is used in parts of that country where it is distilled from Toddy, the juice of their native coconut trees.

What's Your Opinion?

So, do you think the alcoholic drink Toddy from Western culture is derived from Tadi, Tod's Well or something Todally different?

A Cure For What Ails You - Depending On What Ails You

Regardless of its origins, a Hot Toddy (or totty) is a classic hot drink for cold days and nights which happens to coincide with the Christmas holidays up north. Its a basic cocktail that's popular in many variations. Perhaps none more so than when adding in the combination of honey and lemon to the drink.

Besides being tasty, the lemon-honey pairing is often recommended as a cure for what ails you, from sore throats to weight loss to colds & flu. Probably better make it a mocktail if you're actually sick though, as burning the bug out with alcohol may do more harm than good according to many in modern medicine. Sort of ironic that the initial Toddy recipe appears for now to have made its debut in a medical journal.

Behind The Bar - How To Mix A Hot Toddy At Home

If you're not sick though, Hot Toddies are a great way to warm up throughout the winter holidays and gives you another excuse to use your seasonal barware. Other than a few other Christmas cocktails and holiday themed drinks, what else are you going to use those fancy glasses decorated with boughs of holly for anyway?

Hot Toddy Recipe:

1 oz  bourbon, rye or scotch whisk(e)y

1 tbp  honey

2 tsp  lemon juice

1 cup  boiling hot water

Preparation - spoon or squeeze the honey into the bottom of your mug. Add the bourbon and juice from about a quarter of a lemon. Fill with hot water well short of rim for easier handling and safe sipping. Garnish with lemon wedge, optionally studded with cloves, cinnamon (sticks or ground), nutmeg, etc. An almost infinite combination of possibilities are available as almost any liquor works well and many substitute hot tea or cider for the boiling water along with different spices. See 5 tips for hot toddies for additional ideas.

BTW - January 11th is National Hot Toddy Day!

What better way to embody the spirit?

Drink Variations and Similar Cocktails

Toddy's Tipple Twins:

Bumbo - a brown sugar, rum Sling that sings Pirate's praises.

Grog - a nautically rooted drink where a sailor's portion of rum was watered down.

Highball - Scotch whisky & carbonated water along with other spirit and soda combos like the Cuba Libre, Gin & tonic, Moscow Mule and the Seven & Seven.

Sangarees - Toddies topped off with a little port wine.

Slings - liquor, water, sugar and nutmeg.

Skins - a Toddy with a twist or piece of lemon peel added.

More Hot Drinks For Home Bar Hosts:

Eggnog - a frothy holiday favorite.

Glogg - hot mulled Christmas wine.

Hot Buttered Rum - toddy's cocktail cousin?

Wassail - hot apple ale blesses the crop for the coming new year.

References

* - Minus the typical orange and cherry fruit salad many modern old-fashioned recipes [sic] like to muddle into the drink.

† - The original passage was written using the long 's' which looks like the letter f. Those old-fashioned ligatures along with some older word spellings were converted to reflect modern writing so they would be easier to read. As an example of both instances, choose was written as chufe in seventeenth century English.

‡ - The History of Edinburgh by William Maitland (1753) via The Statistical Account of Scotland Drawn Up From The Communications of the Ministers of the Different Parishes by Sir John Sinclair (1791).

1 - Castlehill Cistern. Civil Engineering Heritage: Scotland - Lowlands and Borders by Roland Paxton and Jim Shipway (2007) via the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland.

2 - The Architect Robert Mylne. Electric Scotland. Saint Cecilia's Hall in the Niddry Wynd.

3 - Tods-Well which supplies the City with Water. (original footnote, verbatim from the poem).

4 - Origin Of The Word Toddy. The New York Times (1871).

5 - Chambers' Edinburgh Journal conducted by William and Robert Chambers, Number 285, Saturday, July 15, 1837.

6 - The Official Robert Burns Site. All verses to The Holy Fair poem complete.

7 – Imbibe! by David Wondrich (2007). From Absinthe Cocktail To Whiskey Smash. A Salute In Stories And Drinks To ‘Professor’ Jerry Thomas. Pioneer Of The American Bar.

[alliswell21]

@duckpotatodandelion’s Prompt: “I do love me a coffee shop au.”

Rated T

This was writen last night and edited this morning before I had to run errands, so my apologies for any errors.

Also, since @duckpotatodandelion had that post about hot chocolate, I may have deviated her Prompt a bit... 😳... fine! a bunch... 🙈 don’t tell anyone!!!!

☕️ ☕️ ☕️

I walk into the Starbucks and wrinkle my nose in the first breath. I’m not a coffee person, the dark concoction loosens my stomach for whatever reason, but thanks to my boss, Plutarch Heavensbee, I have around $100 in Starbucks gift cards that only keep piling up for every occasion that requires management to give the employees recognition.

I’m guessing the man thinks coffee shop gift cards are the hip thing to do, and say whatever you want about Plutarch, that man is still trying to stay relevant.

One look at the line and I quickly realize I must be the only soul in this planet that doesn’t care for coffee. I sigh to myself, stepping in line with the rest of the morning rushers, wondering how does the son of a baker could’ve develop such an aversion to coffee, when it’s perhaps the hot drink most served in my father’s shop?

Since I’m number 2002 (fine, that’s an exaggeration on my part) in this line, I decide to spend my time people watching and trying to guess what they do for a living for a bit, it’s not like I can see the menu from where I stand, though the baristas seemed to be pretty proficient at their jobs, dispatching drink after drink like caffeinated fairy godparents.

The first customer in line is a severe looking woman with straight, gray hair that falls into a perfect curtain down to her shoulders; she’s wearing a gray power suit and gray comfortable shoes; when she turns around with her distinctive paper cup in hand I realize her eyes are the same hue of gray as her hair and outfit. It’s like all color has been drain from her. I’m going to call her Madam Monochrome. Or maybe Coin, since she reminds me of silver change. I wonder if she lives down in an underground bunker and only came up to surface because coffee is banned in her secret lair, that would explain the monotone colors. If that’s the case, she must be the president of the underground community, otherwise I don’t see how she was allowed to leave.

Next, is a guy with a wiry frame, ashen skin, balding. His glasses keep sliding down the bridge of his nose, so he pushes them back up with the middle finger of his hand. He’s carrying a laptop briefcase, the padded kind you don’t have to completely open in the TSA line at the airport for the x-ray machines. I’m going to call him Beetee, because that’s what the logo in his case says. He’s probably a genius, working for the next iPod nano device that may fit 3 gigabytes of music into chip as big as a grain of rice. Then again, he could be plotting to overthrow some totalitarian government, by breaking into the TV transmission with well placed anti government propaganda… he’d call them Propos for short, because he doesn’t have time to say the whole word. He’s too busy inventing weapons to chat.

Next, is a man tall, dark and very handsome. The kind women swoon after. I’m sure when he was in high school, girls giggled about him behind their notebooks and commented on how cute he was. He turns his head my way, probably feeling my gaze on him; he only spares me a glance and turns back to stare at the baristas impassively. Good looking Jerk! I bet he’s the military type. Fancy job at some highly rated base, with a huge family that adores him and look up to him. He also looks the type to own hunting gear. He’s probably a sharp shooter too… I can already picture him bringing home a twelve point deer he shot through the neck and a handful of dead, fat rabbits hanging from his belt, he caught in his snares, because what do you know? he’s also a whiz with snares! I should move on from his rigid form. For some reason I don’t think we would ever be friends, him and I. I bet we are total opposites. I’m gonna call him Gale, because he probably has a temper that would wreak havoc, like a strong willed gust of wind.

Behind Gale, there’s a little old lady I’m gonna call Mags, because she looks like she could be a Mags. She seems kind, but there’s something about her face that looks almost like one side is sagging. It saddens me. Maybe she had a stroke at some point, in which case, the mere fact she’s standing in line to get a hot beverage in a busy shop shows her resilience and strength. Good for Mags! I hope she gets to live a hundred more years. She deserves it.

Then, my eyes find two young women. One is blonde and blue eyed, while the other is a brunette with smooth olive skin. Both have matching braids which is strange. Most women don’t wear the same hairdos unless they’re in some kind of play, or maybe they’re twins… there have been cases with twins that physically aren’t even the same race. The two ladies are standing shoulder to shoulder. The blond keeps talking and gesturing with her hands animatedly, while the brunette looks on with rapt attention, nodding and smiling at the blonde. Brunette laughs out loud and I’ve never heard anything as musical as that before.

While pondering on names and imaginary backgrounds for the women, I try to lean on a display of collectible mugs, to disastrous results.

The whole shelf uppends under my weight and sends every single mug careening to the floor with a loud crash, with me, following closely. To say I’m embarrassed would be a gross understatement.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” Asks Blondie, blue eyes dripping with concern. “Your hand is bleeding, sir.” She states looking down at my hand, just as a barista comes to help me up from the floor, where I’m sitting on my ass surrounded by the broken pieces of the mugs I just murdered.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” I say trying to save face.

“Nonsense! Katniss, help me here!” Blondie calls to Brunette who’s looking at me with pity and apprehension.

“Prim…” Brunette sighs more than says, but comes closer all the same, “I don’t think I’ll be that much help. Sorry.” She says locking eyes with me, like she truly is chagrined she can’t help.

“I’m okay, really.” I say finally on my feet. I nod to the Starbucks employee. “I’m sorry about the mess. Talk about a bull in a China shop, right?!”

Brunette fights off a smirk at my self deprecating joke and I swear my heart swells in my chest.

Looking back at the young man helping me, I address him. “You wouldn’t be able to give me a veteran discount to pay for the mugs I broke, would you?”

He just stares at me for a second, “I- I’m not sure, dude. Are you cool? Do you need me to call 911? Your hand has a pretty big gash.”

“I’m a registered nurse, I can help him and take him to my hospital if he needs extra care.” Says Blondie… Prim, Brunette— Katniss— had called her.

“I really am alright—“ I stop talking when I lift my hand and see for myself the gnarly long cut in my hand. It goes from the side of the palm, to right under the thumb, like a jagged smile on the heel of my freaking hand.

I go woozy for a moment, and find myself sitting in a chair with Katniss pressing a cup of water to my good hand. “Drink this. My sister is gonna take good care of you, and then we will drive you to the ER so you can get a note from her boss telling your employer why you’re late.”

“Okay,” I say simply staring at her. She’s got the most amazing gray eyes ever, with specks of blue all over the iris. She’s gorgeous from this close.

“What’s your name?” She asks.

“Peeta Mellark.” I say automatically.

“Hi Peeta Mellark, I’m Katniss Everdeen. What else can you tell me about yourself?”

I think she’s trying to keep me distracted while her sister cleans my cut at the very back of the coffee house, where we can still hear the clinking of ceramic pieces being swept into a dustpan and then chucked into the trash. The silver lining is that they’re taking all my gift cards as payment for the broken cups!

“I’m a painter on a TV production company. I truly am a veteran. Lost my leg somewhere in Iraq. I came in here just for a cup of tea without sugar, how lame is that?”

“I’m sorry about your leg, but thank you for your service.” She says wincing a little. She recovers quickly. “I don’t like coffee either, this is more of Primrose’s addiction. The stuff makes me jittery and jumpy. I’m more of a hot chocolate kind of person.”

“Ditto!” I exclaim. “Dip some chunks of bread into the chocolate for a homier experience, and you’re in hot cocoa heaven!”

“Gotta try that, so much better than coffee!”

“Sure, hate on the drink all you want, but imagine the stories I’m going to tell my grand nephews and nieces about how their grandparents met!” Sing-songs Prim still wiping my hand with some rubbing alcohol infused gauze she apparently carries in her purse. “How romantic will that be?! They met at a coffee shop I dragged grandma Katniss to!”

“Prim…” Katniss mutters half hearted under her breath; both sisters glare at each other for a bit.

I have the distinct feeling this is a conversation they’ve had before and disagree upon.

In and effort to break the siblings staring contest, I dig around my brain for something to say, but instead of wit and charm, I come up with, “What’s your favorite color, Katniss?” Like a fifth grader or something.

She smiles and I feel all warm and tingly inside. “Green. How about yours?”

“Orange. Soft, like a sunset…”

“Mmm! Pretty.” She cocks her head, “What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

“Easy!” I say, “Starbucks microwaves all their pastries! That’s sacrilegious for guy who grew up in a bakery!”

Katniss laughs at that and I hope I can keep her laughing. We keep talking quietly until Primrose declares me ready to go. The cut is mainly superficial, and I won’t need stitches if I keep my injury from re-aggravating.

“So… how can I repay you ladies for the first aid care?” I ask them both smiling.

Primrose opens her mouth with a sly smile, “Take my sister out for a coff—“

“A burger!” Katniss cuts in. “I’ve had enough coffee for the day, but a burger with a chocolate milkshake would be awesome.”

I feel the smile unfurling slowly on my face. “I can do burgers and milkshakes.” I hope Primrose is a good storyteller, my grand babies deserve this story to be told epically.

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ REVOLTING PEOPLE / 2.05 always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

‘oh, uh. is that good?’

‘you’ve won in five moves. are you sure you’ve never played this game before?’

‘it’s only money, as they say.’

‘who’s the ‘they’ in that sentence? the national society of penniless idiots?’

‘somebody really ought to come up with a word for that.’

‘there’d be conflict and emotions slopping about all over the place.’

‘you know why you’re so gloomy all the time, don’t you?’

‘it’s because god hates me and makes everything go wrong.’

‘i think we all know which is your dominant organ.’

‘you’re melancholic, hence having a face as long as the great wall of china.’

‘i’m lusty, good-natured, and full of blood.’

‘we might just as well believe that our characters are decided by the date on which we were born.’

‘only an imbecile could ever believe something like that.’

‘yeah well, the horse doesn’t like being carried.’

‘dinner in ten minutes. if you’re not there in time i’ll feed it to the crows.’

‘your tone is a little sharp.’

‘would you like to lose an eye? because i’d be happy to scoop it out with this ladle.’

‘he and i are not suited.’

‘we should seize ecstasy when we can.’

‘he’s thinking of your reputation, don’t be so hard on him.’

‘who is this extraordinary vision of beauty?’

‘i am not susceptible to smooth words, and flattery does not make me go weak at the knees.’

‘what does make you go weak at the knees?’

‘oh my goodness, it’s a giant.’

‘that’s as exciting as exciting can be!’

‘are you allowed to carry your horse in the cavalry?’

‘i didn’t mean to do it!’

‘i’ve put saturday aside to polish my buttons.’

‘it was he who came up with the british army’s cunning tactic of marching its soldiers slowly towards the enemy in a nice straight line, wearing bright red uniforms.’

‘i just wondered if for a change, we couldn’t sometimes fire at the enemy from behind the safety of trees.’

‘that would be cheating.’

‘the honourable way to fight a war is to fight fair in straight lines, and not to make too much of a fuss when you’re shot.’

‘your beloved has returned!’

‘how was your work today?’

‘i thought i’d surprise you at your office, only you weren’t in your office. you haven’t been in your office to weeks. not since you got /fired/.’

‘why have you been perpetrating this sham?’

‘why couldn’t you just tell me?’

‘you’ve never had a very high opinion of my manliness to begin with, have you?’

‘last week you informed me that it’s bad luck for couples to make love on any day of the week that has the letter ‘d’ in it.’

‘let’s face facts; you’d be better off without me.’

‘we transcend the physical side.’

‘huh! the very notion renders purple hyperbole redundant!’

‘i suddenly found myself face-down in the mud.’

‘things will turn out just fine!’

‘you’re a decent enough man, with... with good posture. and, uh... nice... table manners.’

‘fate will be kind to you in time. probably.’

‘there’s nothing like a massacre to stop impertinence.’

‘can we stop for a second?’

‘she has unfulfilled yearnings, if i’m not mistaken.’

‘do you know what you are? a scoundrel!’

‘why’re you turning crimson?’

‘you should be wary of a man like that.’

‘that’s an impressive use of the word whomsoever, but i still don’t think you know what you’re doing.’

‘he was thrown out of the hellfire club for deflowering virgins after hours.’

‘their family coat of arms is a pair of breasts with trouser sword rampant.’

‘i’m a grown woman, i’ll make my own decisions.’

‘what is it you like about him? is it just his fine physique, smouldering eyes, adonis-like features— this list is a bad idea.’

‘what if he gets you up the duff?’

‘i will not stay here to be bullied and badgered.’

‘can you keep a secret?’

‘what are you implying?’

‘i’m not implying, i’m saying that you frequently stoop to blackmail.’

‘blackmail’s a very ugly word. and so’s manglewurzel.’

‘why am i telling you this?’

‘what are the odds against that?’

‘i found him in the yard with his head between his knees.’

‘i haven’t seen someone that white since the time you dared me to hold _____ over that waterfall by his ankles.’

‘stern words were spoken, fingers were jabbed, and before i knew it i’d challenged him to a duel.’

‘permission to pour you a shot of brandy, sir.’

‘permission to pour myself a brandy, sir.’

‘that happens most of the time.’

‘permission to say ‘that’s bollocks’, sir.’

‘i don’t expect you to understand.’

‘people are people.’

‘no, that can wait ‘til your funeral.’

‘there’s no reason to be quite so defeatist.’

‘statistically, his lucky streak has to come to an end sometime.’

‘death is staring you in the face, sticking out its tongue and going [blows raspberry].’

‘i don’t want him to do that tongue thing again!’

‘clearly, i’m a little less dull than people imagined.’

‘i don’t want you to witness such carnage.’

‘but it’ll be glamorous, romantic carnage.’

‘no. ‘n’ ‘o’ spells NO.’

‘alright, alright! there’s no need to bedazzle me with spelling.’

‘he signed his own death warrant.’

‘i don’t like it when you say that. it means you’re about to do something criminal.’

‘i’ll find a solution.’

‘promise me it won’t involve violence.’

‘even though i’m about to blow your head off, you mustn’t feel it’s anything personal.’

‘what’re you doing skulking in the bushes?’

‘i’m here for the carnage!’

‘you’re lying.’

‘hey, you can’t fool me. fifteen’s not a real number. it’s just something they put in stories.’

‘what brings you by so early?’

‘i need some advice.’

‘you stay well clear of the man, for goodness sake.’

‘he loves you.’

‘how long have you been standing at the window?’

‘i’ll not stay for any further humiliation.’

‘that’s a long story involving much human misery, a lot of it mine, so let’s not dwell on it.’

‘my bullet made a bit of a mess of his buttocks.’

‘i didn’t see what happened because i closed my eyes as i fired.’

‘i couldn’t face the prospect of all that unpleasantness.’

‘i’m still shaking.’

‘are you alright? you’re not wounded, are you?’

‘i’m a bit shaken, that’s all.’

‘you look pale. i think you better come upstairs and lay down, while i loosen your clothing.’

‘you need a good ministering to.’

‘i think you better comply with her wishes, for all our safety.’

‘i’ll go into the woods and track some dragons.’

‘AHA! i was lying and you never spotted it!’

‘you promised me you’d use no violence.’

‘that depends on your definition of violence.’

‘besides, like all pretty boys, he’s thick. it’s just nature’s way of playing fair, i suppose.’

‘you know, there’s something evil about you.’

‘i scare myself sometimes.’

[captainkippen]

A History of Two • A Reddie Fic

Eddie Kaspbrak's first crush came in middle school. It was on his best (and only) friend, Big Bill Denbrough. Bill was the kind of boy who made everyone he spoke to feel special - a leader right down to his bones. He could have any friends he wanted in the whole world even with his stutter, that much Eddie was certain of, yet he still chose to hang around with the short asthmatic kid he'd met in the park when they were five. This was a mystery to Eddie who was not blind to the fact he wasn't exactly the coolest kid around.

He was on the smaller side size-wise. His mother, liked to call him 'delicate' while everybody else called him 'scrawny'. When he went outside he would be laden down with an aspirator and a fanny pack of medical supplies, and God help him if he came back with so much as a scratch on him or his mother would haul him down to the emergency room in a second. This had had the rather depressing effect of making Eddie a target for bullies.

At school, older boys would laugh and call Eddie names, they'd shove him around and sneer at him, often asking Bill if it got annoying having his little boyfriend following him around like a lovesick puppy all the time. Bill never laughed along with them. He never defended himself either - never yelled "I'm not gay!" or put deliberate space between himself and Eddie even though they both knew he'd have an easier time of it if he did - something which Eddie was eternally grateful for. Instead he'd flip those boys the bird then turn to Eddie and joke "Don't worry, I know you could do much better than me."

Eddie would smile back and roll his eyes, pushing down on the urge to blurt out how wrong he thought Bill was about that.  

So for several years, it was just the two of them. Eddie would show Bill how to fix his bike the way he wanted all the while trying not to get oil on his pants so his mother wouldn't yell at him, and in return Bill would tell him stories as they worked. Bill's stories were wonderful - filled with adventure and friendship, dashing knights and beautiful maidens. Listening to them made Eddie's heart swell. Once on his birthday, Bill had gifted him a book of those same stories written down and Eddie could've sworn his heart would burst from joy. He wondered if he would ever stop loving Bill Denbrough.

The answer was yes and no because love changes, fluidly switching between romantic and platonic as it pleases with no concern for the heart to which it is attached. Eddie would grow to love Big Bill Denbrough as a brother while the romance in his heart fell to another.

Richie Tozier was nothing like Bill and he was even less like Eddie. He was a loud brash boy with coke-bottle glasses that made his eyes look almost comically wide. He met Bill in sixth grade who in turn introduced him to Eddie, much to Eddie's own dismay. In class he would often mouth off to teachers in a fashion that suggested he couldn't really help himself. This irked Eddie, but what irked him even more was the way that Richie would call him cute and laugh at his own jokes all the while telling him to lighten up when Eddie scowled. Sometimes he would pinch his cheeks or shorten his name to Eds,  and even though Eddie did not believe in violence it would often end in him threatening to punch Richie.

So yes, Richie had the most annoying habit of grinding Eddie's gears like it was his full-time job. Consequently, Eddie spent several mornings complaining to Bill asking why they had to hang out with such a jerk, to which Bill would reply by saying Richie was cool when you got to know him. Eddie had his doubts.

Until...

"Hey, runt! You can't run from us!"

It's a good thing Eddie is so fast because it's the only reason he's managing to escape the wrath of Henry Bowers and his gang of miscreants right now. His legs carry him forward without him even thinking about it. All his focus is pointed towards getting away and surviving the afternoon.

It's a hot summer day, so hot that hazy little heat waves emanate from the surface of the sidewalks. When Eddie had left the house this morning he'd intended to head down to the Barrens, he and Bill's preferred place to play, thinking maybe the two of them (and probably Bill's kid brother George too) could play swords with some of the sticks they'd found last time. This was not to be the case though, as he learned when he knocked at the Denbrough's door. Bill and George had gone with their father to buy tools from the hardware store. Eddie didn't feel like waiting around for them to get back - Mrs Denbrough had offered a glass of milk but she always looked at him with such pity for reasons he didn't really understand and it made him uncomfortable. So he had politely declined and wandered off into town in search of something to do.

Unfortunately for him, Bowers and his gang had been looking for something to do too. As soon as they spotted him it became apparent that knocking him around would be amusement enough. Eddie had had enough sense to start sprinting.

He would have escaped entirely if it were not somebody stepping out of the corner shop door as he flies by it. The resulting collision is an epic mess of limbs and surprised shouts. When Eddie looks up he finds Richie staring back at him.

"Where's the fire, Eds?" He asks, then he spots Bowers coming towards them and his eyes widen. Quickly he's tugging Eddie up and they're running once again.

It seems hopeless. Pain shoots up Eddie's ankle and he thinks 'Oh God, another trip to the emergency room.' They're never going to get away. The gang is gaining on them now, all cruel laughter and insults, but then-

Richie kicks a dustbin backwards as they pass, he kicks it hard, and it goes flying into Bower's. There's a noise of pained rage but it's enough of a distraction for them to finally get away. The clanging and the yelling is joined by adult voices asking what the hell is going on out here, and when Eddie and Richie turn the corner they're free.

They head for Richie's house, he explains his parents aren't home, and when they get there Richie's fingers are tender as they wrap Eddie's ankle in ice.

"Gotta be more careful, Guv'na! Or 'em damn rascals 'll getcha!" He says with a cheerful smile as he pays Eddie's knee. It's what he calls his 'British Constable voice', which Eddie usually hates but this time it draws a laugh out of him.

It was in that moment that Eddie realised Richie's teasing words were not deliberate attempts to get a rise out of him but rather his own special, and slightly irritating, brand of affection. That was the first time he knew for sure that they had become real friends.

By eighth grade Eddie and Richie were no longer allowed to sit next to one another in class. In fact, they were often put on opposite sides of the room. In all honesty, this was through no fault of Eddie's. It was Richie who was unable to keep his mouth shut, and it was not Eddie's fault that the boy had a certain talent for making laughter bubble up inside him exploding in an unwanted burst of giggles. Richie remained unable to keep his mouth shut whether he was next to Eddie or not, but at least when they were apart he had less incentive to crack jokes every five seconds.

They may have been able to separate them in a classroom, but the teachers at Derry Middle School had no place preventing laughter on the playground and so it became normal for Eddie to watch the clock in class counting down the minutes until one became three for lunchtime. He, Richie and Bill would throw themselves down under the large oak tree on the playing field and share torn off pieces of sandwiches while pouring over the latest issues of their favourite comic books.

Eddie's mother did not like Richie. He was too loud for her aging ears and he had a tendency to knock things over by accident while gesturing. The Kaspbrak house was filled with many a delicate antique, or at least what Mrs. Kaspbrak liked to think of as antiques, and several had met their doom as a result of Richie's flailing limbs. Despite this, she was helpless to stop him from visiting because by that point Eddie and Richie had become EddieAndRichie, attached at the hip and seen everywhere together or not at all, and so she was forced to accept that desperately hiding her precious china when she heard footsteps coming up the porch was a tedious forever part of their lives.

Their group expanded from three to five and then on to seven when they hit high school. First to join them was Stan Uris, a neat bookish boy whom Bill had met through bird watching. He had a sneaky wit about him and enjoyed going on runs with Eddie in the morning. On group outings he began bringing along his friend Mike Hanlon, who up until recently had been home schooled. Mike gave the best advice and saw more reason than his friends, often getting them out of trouble. Eddie was grateful for his friendship.

Then along came Beverly Marsh and Ben Hanscom, two other regular victims of Bowers gang boredom. Beverly was fiesty and unafraid - she and Richie got along like a house on fire. Eddie was never sure which he felt for her more: envy or admiration. Probably the second one. He hoped it was the second one. Ben was sweet and spent many afternoons in Bill's garage with them building all sorts of strange structures. He looked at Bev like she was the sun and he would paint the skies for her. Eddie wondered if he realised she looked at him the same way or he was too blinded by his own low self-esteem to realise.

The group became his lifeline; the Loser's Club they called themselves. For the seven of them, weekends were filled with visits to the Aladdin, the local movie theatre, and picnics down at the Barrens. They would start campfires and have Bill tell stories. Richie would butt in with his terrible impressions and Ben would laugh so hard he got a stitch. Everything felt right when they were all together.

At some point during that time, though Eddie couldn't pinpoint exactly when, they had knit together and become a family of sorts. He loved them wholly and completely, and he knew they loved him back in a similar fashion. It was a blinding sort of unquestionable love, which is probably why it took so long for Eddie to realise what he felt for Richie was different for what he felt for the others.

It was in twelfth grade that Eddie Kaspbrak finally realised he was in love with Richie Tozier, and it hit him like a ton of bricks.

[travllingbunny]

AoS rewatch:  1x06 FZZT

And with this, we start that season 1 thing with spelling words in titles as if they were acronyms, though this one is only typed in capital letters but without the periods, unlike T.R.A.C.K.S.

This is the best episode of the first part of season 1, in spite of being one of the few that have no elements of the overall storyline. If all the early season 1 episodes were like this, no one would be saying anything against pre-Winter Soldier season 1. The standalone story is a great one, and it is full of important character moments and character development, Especially for Simmons and Fitz, and their relationship. This is where they stop being just comic relief supporting characters and become fully fledged characters.

Simmons later had a lot of inconsistent writing, but her characterization in this episode is perfect. It’s certainly one of her best episodes ever. We see everything from her rationality and scientific curiosity which can sometimes sound a bit creepy (”So sad a man died this way…and yet, so amazing.“), her determination and her courage and willingness to spare the others the responsibility to sacrifice her, by sacrificing herself to save everyone.

And it’s the first great FitzSimmons episode – where their relationship is in the focus and the heart of the story. There’s a lot of fun bickering, as there always is, but then we also get to see how much they mean to each other, how much Fitz is willing to risk for Jemma, and  we get the first hints he may be feeling something romantic for her.

One of the differences between Fitz and Jemma is how much is Fitz is grossed out by things like dead bodies (or  needles stuck into eyes, as in 1x04) while Simmons is cool and unaffected by them (but if she weren’t, it would be hard for her to do her job). I relate to Fitz in this case.

Simmons taunts him that he’s „afraid“ of a dead body, which angers him and he protests that he’s not afraid, just disgusted. Later, she says he was too afraid to go into the field. But when it comes to saving Simmons, Fitz is later completely unafraid to get into the lab with her and risk getting infected himself, and later wanted to jump off a plane to save her.

But before that, at the beginning of the episode, Fitz’ little crush on Skye gets its swan song as he makes a terrible attempt at hitting at her, which she doesn’t even register. She’s too busy talking about her problems with Ward – who has been ignoring her - and comparing him to her ex-boyfriend Miles, and she also has noticed the FitzSimmons chemistry before either of them have, pointing out that they are „psychically linked“. She has always been the world’s biggest FitzSimmons shipper.

Speaking of which, the ship name itself is again spoken in canon: just like the doc in the Pilot, Coulson refers to them as a single unit, „FitzSimmons“.

Fitz and Simmons’ impersonations of Ward are both terrible. Why do they make him sound like Edward James Olmos?

The only thing that feels out of place in this episode is May’s interrogation of one of the witnesses, who’s a little boy. It’s a humorous scene where she offers him a cookie, but looks completely intimidating while doing it. This doesn’t really make sense, as we know that May can be softer, and we now know that she is usually very caring with children. And scaring an already traumatized child shouldn’t be funny.

Indeed, Skye, I’m also shocked that neither Coulson nor Ward are familiar with The Big Lebowski. Well, actually, I’m not at all shocked that Ward hasn’t.

Foreshadowing: Ward: „Everyone looks clean on the first go round. Dig deeper“

At this point, I’m not sure if Ward is really still angry at Skye (I did believe he really was in 1x05, but only because he was jealous of Miles), or if he thinks that he now needs to continue his performance of being a strict, loyal SHIELD agent angered by Skye’s Rising Tide allegiance.

It’s a testament to how good this episode is, that it succeeds in making you feel for  Diaz, the firefighter about to die, a minor character who’s only been on screen for a couple of minutes. The writing and the acting is really good. This episode’s plot is so sad, because the victims are people who were heroes helping and saving others, and they died as an indirect result of that. It’s also possibly the only episode where the team isn’t dealing with any villains who intentionally caused this, but a virus and an accidental infection.

This is also one of the best episodes for Coulson. The scene where he stays with the dying firefighter as long as he can, to make it easier for him, telling him about his own death experience, is really beautiful. (We never find out if what he told him was true, or just something he said to make him feel better.) He cut off the comm with May when she tried to warn him to leave. He does something similar later when he pretends that he lost communications with Blake, because he has no intention of following the order to dump Simmons into the ocean, instead of hoping and believing that she will find the antiserum. And he openly defies Blake and the superiors’ orders at the end of the episode, even replying „Let them try“ when he’s threatened with SHIELD taking the team away from him. (I don’t know how Fury felt about Coulson disobeying his orders – but maybe he liked it, because, after all, he also disobeyed orders that he deemed to be stupid ass orders, like being told to bomb New York.) In spite of the many ways in which the later seasons improved the show, one of the things I’m sad about is that this humane, always compassionate season 1 Coulson was kind of lost, as he became darker and angrier, prone to keeping secrets even from his team, and occasionally too obsessed with revenge.

When watching Ward in these early episodes, the question constantly arises, what is real and what is fake. The speech he gives to Skye, about feeling helpless that he cannot protect his team members from someone, a superpowered psychopath, it is a part of his performance, but is there maybe some grain of truth in it? The best lies are usually those that have a bit of truth in them – an actor needs to find something to relate to give a better performance. Ward was deceiving and manipulating everyone, but at the same time, we know he did develop some feelings for at least some of his teammates. Not just romantic feelings for Skye, but it’s also canon (at least since 3x09) that he projected his little brother into Fitz. The same episode hinted he may have seen Simmons as a sister figure. (I personally believe that he projected his family on the team, which also explains his later negative feelings for them.) And he definitely has a hero complex and wants people to see him as a protector (whether or not this fits with the reality), this is how he defines himself and his worth – it’s one of the constants of his characters throughout the show.

First mention and appearance of Titus Welliver as Agent Felix Blake

We find out that FitzSimmons have never even passed their field assessments.

So many defining FitzSimmons moments. FitzSimmons sitting on the different sides of the lab door, separated.

That moment. That moment when they are arguing and Fitz starts saying that she has been always by his side, that they’ve spent every moment together (“You’ve been beside me the whole damn time!”) – and his face changes. That’s when he realizes just how much Simmons means to him. And it’s the moment when so many fans started shipping FitzSimmons.

It’s right after that he went into the lab with her to do everything to help her find a way to save herself „We’re gonna fix this together“

Fitz desperately yelling: „JEMMA!“ - I’m pretty sure that’s the first time on the show he has called her by her first name.

Going by what we’ve seen so far – countries SHIELD has offices in include Morocco and China, but apparently not Peru or Belarus (and, going by 4x14, no office in Russia, either).

I love the way Simmons corrects Ward about his imitation of her bad imitation of him.

Aw, the Skye-Simmons hug was sweet. The Bus Kids friendship was one of the things that the show developed very convincingly from the start, in a relatively small number of episodes.

In the ongoing story of Coulson worrying about his earlier death and comeback, he has ordered his own physical exam. This is so far the most tender May/Coulson scene, and the tenderest May has been in the show. (And I bet the writers were being intentionally naughty and ship-teasing when they put the„Take off your shirt“ line in there.)

The last scene, where Fitz is unhappy and a bit jealous that he didn’t  get to save Simmons from jumping, but Ward did instead (don’t worry, Fitz, Ward had a much better chance of succeeding there, let everyone play to their strengths), and Simmons reassures him that he was the one who did most to help and save her, being there with her in the lab, and gives him a cheek kiss… if Fitz didn’t realize before that his feelings for Jemma may be romantic, he is definitely starting to understand it here, going by that last shot of him, deep in thoughts.

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

‘Repeating History’ Chapter 3: It’s All There, in Your Head

FFN | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

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.

1894

               It was late—nearly midnight—and Sherlock looked out his window at the foggy city. It was so chilling outside, he could practically see the cold front moving in. There were few people who came out at such an hour; most being criminals, junkies, or secret lovers. That is why it piqued his curiosity when he noticed a young woman approach the outside door to 221B. What would possess her to arrive here at such an hour, especially walking alone at night with a murderer on the loose? Mrs. Hudson’s voice cut through his thoughts.

               “Mister Holmes? You have a client,” she informed him.

               “Let her in, Mrs. Hudson, thank you,” he replied. Whatever he imagined this client to be after, he was not prepared for it. In walked Molly Hooper, clutching her bag, her eyes full of determination. “Miss Hooper.”

               Molly returned his greeting with a small curtsy. “I am sorry for the late hour, Mister Holmes, but I know you are the only person who can help me.”

               Sherlock gestured for her to sit in the client chair set between where he and Watson normally rested. “What is it that you need, Miss Hooper?” He observed her body language, noting that she was nervous about whatever his answer may be to her request.

               “As you know, my best friend has been brutally murdered,” she spoke softly, her voice breaking. “I wish to know who is behind this as much as you do.” Sherlock nodded in encouragement for her to go on. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I know that Doctor Watson is your partner in crime solving, but I do know he is married and that his wife is with child, close to giving birth very soon.”

               Sherlock looked at her with the curiosity of a cat. “I see you’ve done your research, Miss Hooper. Impressive.”

               “Well, actually, Mister Holmes, I have met Mrs. Watson, as her usual doctor had not been in for quite a while. Nobody knows where he’s gone off to,” Molly explained. “What I’m asking is if I can help you to bring Meena’s murderer to justice?”

               Sherlock pondered this idea for so long that when thirty minutes had passed, Molly took matters into her own hands. She lightly shook his shoulder with her gloved hand, hoping he would snap out of it. Sherlock jumped when he finally came to, looking up at the most brilliant woman he had ever met. “I am sorry, Miss Hooper, I must have thought I answered you already.”

               She giggled; a sweet melodic sound to his ears. “It is quite alright, Mister Holmes. What do you say?”

               “As you are correct about Doctor Watson being quite busy at the moment, I say that you are welcome to investigate with me,” Sherlock told her, a genuine smile on his face. “I must warn you though, I can be a bit—“

               “Abrasive?” Molly provided. “I have been forewarned about your behaviours, Mister Holmes.”

               “And you aren’t…shocked?” He wondered if she knew about the seven percent solution he’d sometimes use.

               “It takes more than your seven percent solution to shock me,” she remarked.

               Sherlock was taken aback. This woman knew very much about him. He stood up from his chair, facing her, only a few inches between them. “And what if we run into the murderer, Miss Hooper? What then? I cannot have a damsel in distress to worry about on a case such as this.” His harsh tone did nothing to repel her. This told him that she could handle his worst attitudes.

Molly Hooper stood her ground, unwavering. “I am a woman of intellect and resilience, as you may have already deduced. I am not a fine piece of delicate china, Mister Holmes. I will not be shattered so easily.”

The tension was thick, but Sherlock was more than satisfied with Molly’s comeback at his attempt to deter her. They stood in such close proximity that if he were to lean down just a bit, his lips would touch hers. Her deep brown eyes held a fierce determination as she bore her gaze into his ocean eyes. Neither of them realised that Doctor Watson had been a witness to the last minute of their conversation…at least, not until the man cleared his throat.

“Doctor Watson.” Molly snapped out of her fixation on Sherlock. “I must be going. Thank you again, Mister Holmes.”

Before she could leave, Sherlock spoke up. “There is a guest room upstairs. I’ll not have you walking the streets alone at this time of night, Miss Hooper.” He watched as she paused to think about it, eventually nodding her head in thanks before disappearing upstairs.

“Oh, Holmes, you do fancy her,” Watson remarked.

“What? No I don’t,” Holmes argued. “I do not bother with fanciful romantic entanglements, Watson, you know that.”

“You may find yourself in love with her one day,” Watson continued. Holmes was not taking it well.

As the two men continued to argue, their voice rose higher. Molly was attempting to sleep when she heard the baritone of Sherlock’s unmistakable voice.

“She means nothing to me!” he had shouted. “Miss Hooper is merely a client, and nothing more, Watson!”

The cold truth sliced through her like a scalpel. These past few weeks, she was sure they had a lovely friendship blooming, but perhaps it was all a charade after all. Tears silently fell down her cheeks, as she waited for sleep to succumb her. She would not allow this to deter her from her duty to find this killer. Not one man should dare to get in her away, let alone Sherlock Holmes.

.

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2016

“She means nothing to me!” That was the last thing Sherlock could remember from his strange dream last night. His head throbbed with pain as if he had imbibed too much alcohol. Everyone he knew and loved was there, but in a Victorian setting. The dream had been so vivid, he could’ve sworn that this happened to him in his lifetime. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Mary’s asked, “But which lifetime?” It was balderdash; there were no such things as past lives.  

Every morning since the family dinner, Sherlock found that he had to continue reminding himself that Molly wanted a break from him; at least, romantically. It had hurt him, but he wanted her to be happy, even if it was without him in the picture. It hurt more that he hadn’t even heard from her since. In the meantime, there were a few appointments he needed to make, but they’d have to wait until later. Greg Lestrade rushed into 221B, urgency written across his face.

“There’s been two more murders,” he informed him. “I need you to come with me, Sherlock.”

Fear flooded through him, an icy feeling prickling his skin. “Is it Molly?” He felt panic rising within him.

“God, no, Sherlock, I’m sorry for worrying you like that. We need you because there’s a note for you. It’s typed, but maybe you can get something from it,” Greg explained. Sherlock nodded, and slipped on his coat. The game was on, and he knew that the further this went, the more dangerous it would become.

Upon his arrival at the crime scene, Sherlock was immediately graced by Sally Donovan’s presence. Delightful. He was far from being in the mood for whatever tirade she was sure to go on.

“Freak,” she greeted him. “Heard about you and Hooper; sounds like she finally got in her right mind.”

Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh. “And what,” he huffed, “is that supposed to mean?”

A derisive smile graced Donovan’s face. “It means that the girl has finally realised that she’s too good for you, and it only took a month of dating you.”

For the first time, her words affected him. He and Molly were only on a break, but maybe it was because she had truly realised that he was no good for her.

“Sherlock!” Greg called to him. He motioned for the detective to follow him.

Glad for a reason to leave Donovan’s presence, Sherlock followed Lestrade, immediately kneeling between the two bodies to read the bloodstained note.

I am the Hunter

But you’re not the prey

Your heart will be torn asunder

Think of your family

It will pave the way

Does the Devil live within me?

You wonder

               “It’s a riddle,” Sherlock stated. “Why is Hunter capitalized?”

               “I’m not sure,” Greg confessed. “Haven’t been able to make heads or tails of it, but I was sure it was meant for you.”

               After snapping a photo of the note, Sherlock placed it in an evidence bag. He planned to do nothing but comb through the words until something clicked. Hunter was capitalized, he had to think of his family; how did it all connect? There were no Hunters in his family, not surname or first name. That’s when he heard a car door slam, and looked up to see Molly smiling at him.

.

.

“Wow, you look like you rose from the dead,” Mary remarked as she strolled into the lab with lunch for her and Molly. The pathologist’s hair was tied back into the limpest ponytail; her eyes looked red and puffy from lack of sleep or perhaps having cried herself to sleep. The cheerfulness that Molly usually exuded was no longer there, as if a star had gone out. She didn’t even laugh at the awful joke Mary had just made.

“Long night,” was all Molly said as she began to examine a specimen of bacteria with the microscope.

“What’s going on?” Mary asked, wondering what had gone wrong. “I haven’t heard anything since your dinner with Sherlock and his family last week. Did everything go well, love?”

Molly lifted her head from the microscope to look at her friend. “It was all very”—she shoved her notebook aside—“lovely.”

Mary arched an eyebrow. “Then what’s wrong, poppet?”

Molly took a deep, shaky breath, planning to get straight to the point, but went off on a rant. “It’s funny, because this is everything I’ve always wanted, regardless of the fact I never expected it to happen. I want this—I do—but I haven’t had time to breathe since Sherlock’s almost-exile.” Mary approached the lab table, setting down the takeaway bags. “Mary, I called things off with him just to get some space. It was one of the most difficult things I had to do.” She laughed in disbelief. “Helping him fake his death was so much easier.” Molly didn’t dare divulge about her strange dream last night. It was Victorian times, and she had been listening to Sherlock and John arguing from the upstairs bedroom of 221B. They were arguing about her. The last thing she could remember was Sherlock’s voice, cold and cruel, claiming that she meant nothing to him.

Just when Mary was about to offer some advice, Molly’s mobile went off, notifying her of a text from Lestrade. “It’s Greg; he needs me at the crime scene where two women were slain. Anderson has called in sick. Of course.”

“Molly, love, before you go, just listen to what I have to say,” Mary told her. “I understand why you had to distance yourself, and whilst it was hard for you, I’m proud that you’re putting your wellbeing first.” She took Molly’s hand as a gesture of motherly comfort. “Just make sure that this is what you want. If you feel you need to take things slow with Sherlock—and it looks to be that way—let him know when you’re ready for him.”

“You know, I wondered all night if it was a break I needed, or if I just need us to focus on our friendship first,” Molly confessed. “I don’t want him cut out of my life whilst I deal with this. He’s—“ she took a breath—“he’s my person.”

“Your person?” Mary repeated amusingly. “Re-watching Grey’s Anatomy I see.”

 “Shut up,” Molly laughed whilst gathering her things. She waved goodbye to Mary as she exited through the doors. She and Sherlock would be working together today, and she used the time it took for her cab ride to try and get herself together. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest when she spotted Sherlock through the backseat window. He was in deep concentration as he examined the bodies, his brows furrowed as if something wasn’t adding up. Molly paid the driver, and exited the vehicle, taking a deep breath. His eyes locked with hers immediately as if he could sense her presence. Perhaps he can. They shared a smile before getting to work.

.

.

1894

               Her heart beat in time with the pounding in her head. Sleep had been scarce after all she had heard last night. Molly sat up quickly, the room spinning much too fast. Her hand went to grasp the bedding, only she heard the crinkling of paper. After the dizziness subsided, she took a deep breath before reading the contents of the letter.

               To whomever it may concern,

               I reside in Sherrinford.

               Having problems with ol’ Jack?

               Don’t forget about Reichenbach.

               If it is answers you want discovered,

               I suggest visiting your dear, old brother.

               “How curious,” Molly muttered aloud. It was a riddle, and clearly meant for Sherlock. She could hardly imagine how awful it would feel to face him, but she had the advantage in that he does not know she heard him last night. This note was important, but the question was who wrote it? Also, who delivered it? Chills ran up her spine at the thought of a stranger—possibly a murderer—had snuck into her temporary room.  

               Deciding that Sherlock’s immediate attention be given to this letter, Molly flew down the stairs in only her chemise, uncaring of what was proper in a situation such as this.

               Upon spotting the detective standing by the fire, lost in his thoughts, Molly rushed right to his side. “Mister Holmes, I found this letter in the bed I was sleeping in, and I think it is imperative to our case.”

               Sherlock spared a quick glance before taking the letter from her hands, but looked back at her, noticing her state of…undress. The firelight was illuminating the fabric, making it noticeably transparent. He averted his eyes quickly, swallowing the lump that began to form in his throat, and began scanning the letter. “Impossible.”

               “What?” Molly asked, her hand grasping his arm gently. “What is it?”

               “It appears I must have a word with my dear brother,” Sherlock huffed. “Make sure you are properly dressed by the time I return, Miss Hooper…I shall not be returning alone.”

.

.

               Sherlock Holmes was practically fuming. How could this be? Apparently, his brother knew the answer.

               “Sherlock,” Mycroft Holmes greeted his brother. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He bit into a pastry, unaware of his brother’s anger.

               “Moriarty’s alive, isn’t he?” Sherlock felt it best to get straight to the point. He stared down his brother until, finally, he spoke.

               “What does it matter now? He’s locked up in Sherrinford,” Mycroft told him. No explanation as to how Moriarty survived, no concern that he may be puppeteering the murders.

               “How!?” Sherlock shouted. “How is he alive?”

               “Don’t be arrogant, Sherlock,” Mycroft snapped. “You’re not the only person who can survive a fall.” He looked his little brother dead in the eye. “We found him unconscious not long after, and I suggested he be locked up, seeing as he did not, in fact, perish.”

               “I need you to come to Baker Street. Now,” Sherlock urged his brother. “Lives may be at stake if you do not cooperate.”

               Mycroft sighed with resignation. “Very well, then.”

.

.

               Molly was only half-dressed by the time she heard Sherlock come back. She wondered if he had brought his brother back with him to help them decipher the riddle. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and she quickly finished tying the laces on her boots, not wanting his brother to see her in such a state. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered being in only her chemise earlier. Now, if only she could get these damn corset laces tightened and tied. The knock on the door caused her to nearly jump out of her skin.  

               “Miss Hooper?” Sherlock called to her. “I’d like you to come downstairs. If you are to be on this case, you must talk with my brother post-haste.” He jumped back slightly when Molly opened the door only wide enough for him to see her face poke through.

               “Do you think you could help me first? I cannot seem to get these laces tied for the life of me,” she told him.

               “Yes, of course,” he replied, opening her door the rest of the way. He swallowed hard as he tightened her laces, each tug increasing the soft swell of her breasts. Being so close to her, he could smell honeysuckle on her skin. How could he possibly work this case with her if she drove him wild with desire every time he stood near her? This was a problem. He’d have to be careful.

               “Thank you,” she smiled at him after he had finished. “Shall we go see your brother?” Sherlock only gave a curt nod in response before walking ahead of her, expecting her to follow behind. She did so, and was greeted by the dumbfounded look on the eldest Holmes’s face.

               “You’re not Doctor Watson,” Mycroft so obviously pointed out. “Sherlock, who is she?”

               “This is Miss Hooper, Mycroft. She is an accomplished pathologist at St. Bartholomew’s,” Sherlock explained. “Seeing as Watson is busy with his wife and unborn child, she offered her services to help with the case.”

               Molly fidgeted as Mycroft Holmes scrutinized her. “Yes, well, let us hope that is the only service she is offering to you, brother mine.”

               “Mycroft!” Sherlock roared. “You will not speak so unkindly of Miss Hooper! I will not tolerate it!” His eyes flickered toward Molly, noting she was not visibly upset, but her eyes held a fierceness he had not yet seen. Her strength was admirable.

               Mycroft, realising he had struck a nerve, immediately asked for the note, looking it over. “Moriarty wants you to pay him a visit at Sherrinford, it seems. He has answers about your medical murderer. It seems that Jack the Ripper is still roaming the streets after all.”

               “Sherrinford?” Molly asked, looking at Sherlock. “What is it, and when are we going?”

               “It is a place,” Mycroft began, “for the criminally insane.”

               “She’ll not be going,” Sherlock firmly stated.

               “You said I could assist you!” It was not proper for a lady to raise her voice, but in this moment, Molly didn’t give a damn. “You cannot stop me from going. I will find a way.”

               “And I said no, Molly, that’s final.” He did not shout back, but rather, growled out the words.

               “I do not have to listen to you,” she told him. “You are neither my husband nor my father, so I will do as I please.” For once, Sherlock could say nothing. He knew she was right; she didn’t have to listen to him, and she could find her way to Sherrinford through Mycroft if she had to. Lord knows his brother enjoyed getting under his skin. “I am doing this to seek justice for my best friend’s murder. How dare you try to keep me from any of it after you had agreed I could assist you.”

               All was silent in the room with the exception of Molly’s heeled boots storming up the stairs, finishing with a slamming door and a burning regret in Sherlock’s heart.

               “Headstrong, isn’t she?” Mycroft remarked, clearly amused. Sherlock, however, was not.

[fruitpunchsamu-rai]

Fake it until you make it.

Okikagu week 2018, day 1: Red.

“You bring someone or you’re not invited, period.” It’s his sister’s first word to him when he enters the room. He doesn’t even get the chance to utter a thing before she scolds him. He thinks it’s normal for older sisters to be this annoying for no reason.

“I already told you I have a girlfriend and that she’ll be there,” he answers, much more smoothly than he expected to. He adds to it, purging himself more and more with each word. “Haven’t I talked to you about her? We’ve been together for two years already!”

He’s enthusiast and he bears the hugest smile he’s ever had, with reason. His older sister, the only person he’s ever trusted and loved, is getting married in two days. Sometimes it feels like he’s more excited than her about it, she even told him how weird he was. But Sougo was happy that the person she was marrying wasn’t Hijikata. Oh, how happy he was about the fact that Hijikata was probably crying somewhere about this turn of event.

Anyway, his sister has been threatening him about not being let in the wedding venue if he didn’t bring someone along. In other words, a lover. Or a potential one, Mitsuba didn’t care. She wanted to see her brother with someone for at least one night. She was done with seeing him lurk in his corner, alone, not having even a bit of fun. So here he was, talking about a fake girlfriend he never had in the first place. Describing a relationship that doesn’t exist and probably never will. The lie continues for a few minutes and it’s alright until his sister asks her name.

“Her name? Huh,” He’s looking around nervously, his lie is about to be brought up to light and he can’t disappoint his precious sister, he can’t break her heart after bringing her hopes up. He doesn’t have the guts to. He’s about to make a name up until, suddenly, the face of a certain girl pops up in his head. “Her name’s Kagura.”

Mitsuba coos at him. “What a pretty name, I’m so excited to meet her!” She pesters him about finally being in love for a while until he has to leave. He hugs her shortly and promises again to bring Kagura to her wedding. He curses loudly the whole way out of the building.

-x-

Kagura texts him that she’s going to be late to their meeting ten minutes before the wedding’s supposed to start. It’s enough for Sougo to pull his phone out of his pocket.

He calls Kagura in a hurry, distancing himself from the crowd. As soon as she picks up, Sougo yells. “What are you doing? You can’t be late!”

“What are you so stressed out about? We’re only pranking Shinpachi, you know.” Sougo almost screams right then and there. How can she be so stupid and slow?

“I know, just hurry damn it.” She imitates him and hangs up. Even the way she hangs up a phone is annoying to Sougo. How can he pretend to be in love with this dumbass?

He ignores the dread he feels deep down and enters the church. She can miss this part, it’s not that big of a deal. He walks until he’s sat down in the first row, next to Hijikata and Kondo. There are no tears on his face like he had thought, but he’s sure it’ll come sooner or later. The ceremony’s about to start when you hear a girl’s voice. The voice is way too familiar to Sougo.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for this ugly boy, his name’s Sougo?” The said boy sighs and slouches in his seat. He didn’t tell Kagura about his lie. She thinks she’s here to prank that stupid boy Shinpachi. She’s going to kill him.

He considers discreetly slipping out of the church until it’s too late. Kagura has found him and she’s tapping his shoulder frantically. She’s probably wondering why they’re here and why he’s dressed up in a suit. Knowing her, she’s also most likely pondering the option of messing up his hair. Before she can do any of that, he checks his watch and stands up. He whispers something to Kondo and grabs Kagura’s wrist, dragging her out of the crowded church.

“Ya, sadist! Why are we running?” He clicks his tongue. He shouldn’t be annoyed at her, this is all his fault, after all. But he can’t help it, she pisses him off naturally.

“Shut up and follow me.” She complies, letting him guide them to his car. “I need you to grant me a favor.” She laughs sarcastically.

“Depends on what I get at the end of it.” Sougo eyes her suspiciously.

“I’ll buy you food for a month. You can ask for it whenever. Starting today.”

“Deal!” She hits his shoulder. “What do you need?”

“Let’s shake on it, first. You can’t back out after that, alright?” She doesn’t think much of it and shakes Sougo’s hand.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Only for tonight.” Kagura’s mouth drop open for so long that Sougo’s has to grab her chin and push it upwards.

“Why?” She doesn’t even look angry. Sougo could even swear he saw her blush.

“It’s my sister’s wedding and I promised I would bring someone with me and I accidentally told her your name.” Kagura sighs, but she doesn’t throw a tantrum like he had expected she would.

“Fine, but just for tonight!” Sougo thanks her a million times after she accepts. “I can’t wear this, though, I look a mess.”

Sougo claps in his hand like he had been waiting for this and opens his car trunk. “I got you. Change into this, quick!”

Kagura takes the attire from Sougo’s hands and inspects it. “How’d you get my size right?” Sougo doesn’t answer, he just motions for her to change. “Turn around, perv!”

Sougo blushes slightly and turns around. It only takes her a minute and then she’s ready. “Okay, let’s go.” This time, Kagura grasps Sougo’s arm and tugs him back to the church where they were. While they’re running, Sougo gets to take a look at the girl.

The dress he brought embraces her body perfectly. It stops a bit higher than her knees and shows her collarbone. But the thing that shocks him the most is the contrast between her vermillion hair and the dark red of the dress. It’s not the same effect as her usual clothes. She looks...different. She looks alluring. Sougo is so taken aback that for a second he’s worried she’ll steal the spot from Mitsuba.

He slaps himself mentally. This is not like him at all. He tries to forget about how good she looks in red during the whole ceremony. He doesn’t succeed.

-x-

Everyone is gathered at the after ceremony, music playing not too loudly to allow conversation. Since he’s the bride’s brother, Sougo gets to sit at the very front with Mitsuba and her husband.

That also means Kagura is there, too. Now their whole entourage will think he’s in a romantic relationship with the girl. He sighs for the thousand time that day.

Kagura hits him softly. “Can you at least act like you want to be here? You’re not putting a good show.” He scoffs at her.

“Maybe I don’t want to be here.” He crosses his arms.

“Shut up, we both know you love your sister too much to want to be anywhere else than here, idiot sadist.”

“Stupid China.” There’s a silent exchange of looks between them until they both laugh. This is ridiculous and they know it. They don’t exactly hate each other, they even get along pretty well when they want to. They know more about each other than anyone and it’s kind of scary the amount of time they spend together. There’s not a day where they don’t hang out.

Some people might mistake them for a real couple. They just have great chemistry.

Sougo excuses himself to the people round him and walks to the bar where Hijikata is stationed. He spots Sougo and signs for him to come over.

“Why did she invite me, huh?” Is the first thing he says to him. Sougo snickers.

“Why did you come, huh?” Hijikata is drunk, that’s all there is to it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t whine like that to him. His question seems to shut him up and he changes the subject.

“I didn’t know Kagura and you were together.” He thinks for a second and rectifies himself. “Actually, I did have some doubt.”

Sougo tells him to shut up and orders himself a drink.

-x-

When he comes back to the table he witnesses Mitsuba and Kagura talking like they’ve been friends forever. He worries at first, until he sees Kagura smile. When did she get so many qualities? Wasn’t she ugly just yesterday?

He shakes the thoughts away and walks to them.

Mitsuba smiles to him and the thought is automatic: it’s nothing compared to Kagura’s.

He actually hates himself.

“Hey. I brought you something to drink,” He says to his ‘lover’. He gets close to her ear and whispers. “It’s your favourite.” She takes a sip and it is, indeed, her favourite. She’s kind of shocked at first, but she lets it slide.

“It’s time for a couples’ dance. You two are coming, right?” Sougo knows he doesn’t really have a choice so he lets himself get dragged across the dancefloor. On their way, Mitsuba allows herself a comment. “I adore Kagura. I’m so happy you found her. I hope I can see her more!”

Sougo is officially doomed.

He lets her slip to her husband. He looks at Kagura who’s already dancing, twirling on herself, the dress lifting a bit. Sougo curses and stops her. The red is enchanting, it’s like he’s under a magic spell.

They start dancing together, along to the slow music. Kagura’s looking in front of her—in other words at his chest—she doesn’t steal him even a glance.

“You look really good in red,” He says not as smoothly as he expected. “I mean, you always do, but tonight you—”

“Stop it. You’re drunk.” He isn’t; he only had a drink at the bar. Not even a strong one, too. So then, why is he spurting all this bullshit? What’s his deal?

“Sorry. I don’t know what’s taken over me.” She laughs awkwardly and he hates it. “I’m not drunk. I mean what I said.”

“Thanks? You don’t look too bad yourself. Although I really want to mess up your hair right now.” Sougo chokes on his saliva. Kagura doesn’t understand why until she notices the rosy taint on the boy’s cheeks. The same colour creeps up on her face. “You stupid sadist! I fucking hate you, you know?”

“Hey,” She finally looks directly into his eyes and Sougo feels himself get dizzy. “What about we keep pretending? I’ll buy you more food.”

Kagura doesn’t think it over. “Sure. But I get to keep the red dress, for scientific reasons.”

Sougo gulps and nods. “Y—yeah. Good idea.”