#Chinese New Year Champagne

[reddotwine]

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[tuulikki]

Happy Birthday today to my grandfather, who today is now 101 (and still sharper than I am or will ever be) 🎉🎂

Wisdoms from my grandfather:

Water is for bathing. Drink champagne instead.

If you want to learn a language, find a “two-legged dictionary”, i.e., someone who speaks the language. (Source: he speaks seven)

“There’s always a song!” = if you’re having an emotion, there’s always a song that expresses that emotion, and you should sing it.

Watch movies with happy endings.

Dance.

Eat long noodles at Chinese New Year (he was born in Shanghai, and if long noodles guarantee longevity, well…)

Vegetables really aren’t worth eating.

[xxdreamersdesirexx]

Victor Creed relationship headcanons

When you ask him about it, Victor Creed says that he won't marry you.

Victor Creed says that he won't marry you, but he still puts a ring on each of your fingers– two on some. Chunky rings, dainty rings, plain rings. Rings covered in diamonds. You hear about the robbery on the news.

Victor Creed says he won't marry you, but when you come back to his lair there's bottles of champagne and $200 worth of boxes of chinese food.

Victor Creed says he won't marry you, but you find him sleeping with a piece of your clothing under his pillow because it smells like you.

Victor Creed says he won't marry you, but he grabs the brush out of your hand and brushes your hair for you, then sits down and expects you to do the same for him.

Victor Creed says he won't marry you, but every time you mention something you'd like to have, it appears in the place that you're living a few days later.

Victor Creed says he won't marry you, but he climbs into your window at night and crawls into your bed.

Victor Creed says he won't marry you, but he takes you to dinner in expensive restaurants full of shady men, where the conversation is low, and the food is amazing and you never see the bill.

Victor Creed says he won't marry you, but he turns the radio on to the oldies station and he grabs you in his arms and dances around the room with you.

Victor Creed says that he won't marry you, but you catch him watching you while you're just doing nothing, with a fascinated almost adoring look in his sharp blue eyes.

Victor Creed says that he won't marry you, but he holds you tightly in his big, strong arms, against his warm, overwhelming body and you can hear the purr in his chest.

Victor Creed says that he won't marry you– but he's been here for years, and it doesn't look like he's going to go away any time soon.

[tinycoffeeroom]

new home | arthur hill

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Hey saw you were looking for requests for Arthur hill maybe like going on your first holiday together or like moving in together x

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👤 arthurnfhill liked by arthurnfhill, lisahull_hill and 18,028 others

y/nstagram all moved in ! new roomie seems ok, he keeps singing a song about an old cowboy though?

arthurnfhill FEEL LIKE JOHN WAYNE ↳ fan RIDING THROUGH THE CITY ON MY OWN ↳ fan JUST AN OUTLAW ON HIS WAY HOME ↳ fan THE GOOD THE BAD THE UGLY ↳ fan I'VE SEEN IT ALL ↳ y/nstagram thanks for the karaoke guys x

lisahull_hill my big boy all grown up :( can't wait to come see what you do with the place x ↳ arthurnfhill mum i've not lived at home for years... ↳ lisahull_hill you've never lived with a girlfriend though! x ↳ y/nstagram lisa i need you to come round soon and help me i'm about to have a breakdown over sofa cushions x ↳ lisahull_hill i'll pop round tomorrow x

fan why is the champagne in the sink tho ↳ y/nstagram freezer machine Broke ↳ y/nstagram on a real note though, fuck currys bc WHY has our freezer been delayed by a week ↳ fan i'll fight them queen ♥️ y/nstagram

fan the books... can't wait to see the book nook!!! ↳ y/nstagram i'm so excited!!! annoyed arthur half to death talking about different bookcase options but i found a gorgeous set on facebook marketplace and its gonna look SO GOOD!! ↳ fan pls give us a tour!!!! ↳ y/nstagram keep a look out on my stories xx

georgeclarkeey it's not too late to come home arthur, your side of the bed feels so empty x ↳ y/nstagram womp womp go shag the other arthur or something ↳ georgeclarkeey he won't open his door :( ↳ arthurtv im protecting my peace ↳ georgeclarkeey im grieving the loss of my boyfriend and you won't even give me a cuddle </3 ↳ arthurnfhill i'm not dead????? ↳ georgeclarkeey it's like i can still hear his voice sometimes... ↳ arthurnfhill i hate it here

bffstagram georgeclarkeey can u have arthur over the weekend, i want a girls night with my gf x ↳ georgeclarkeey only if you take him back on the monday, i have stuff to do ↳ arthurnfhill feeling very much like basil right now ↳ willne uncalled for? ↳ miaxmon i have sole custody of basil pls delete arthur it's a sore spot for will ↳ arthurnfhill only if he apologises for making fun of my mullet AND THEN getting one himself ↳ willne y'know what the basil jokes aren't too bad

fan need a relationship like theirs PLEASE ↳ arthurnfhill all she does is bully me??? seek help ↳ y/nstagram ARTHUR i only bully you like 50% of the time... and you do it too ↳ arthurnfhill i would never bully my girlfriend ↳ y/nstagram the notebook night? ↳ arthurnfhill ok point taken ↳ fan parents <3 ♥️ y/nstagram, arthurnfhill

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Even with all the preparation that had gone into the move, you were still unprepared for the overwhelming amount of boxes that lined the halls of your new flat.

You and Arthur had discussed the idea of buying a house, but with his job being based in central London and the two of you still being young, renting a flat seemed like the best option before diving head first into the nightmare that was mortgages and white picket fences.

The first night the two of you moved in, only the TV and mattress had been unpacked, the stress of bringing all the boxes in tiring the both of you out to the point where the mattress lay haphazardly in the middle of the room and the TV lay slanted against the living room wall.

Arthur lay beside you, eyes half heartedly looking through Uber Eats open on his phone. "Chinese or Indian?"

You took a moment, trying to decipher what you would prefer most. "Hmm, maybe pizza? The other two require utensils and to be honest, I have no idea where our kitchen stuff is."

Arthur hums in response, turning his head to look past you. "I'm pretty sure they're in the bathroom, I think I tripped over our bowls when I went to pee."

Exhaustion must be catching up to you as you don't even question how the boxes labelled "KITCHEN" in black sharpie had ended up there.

After the pizza had been ordered, the two of you lay in comfortable silence, the quiet drone of whichever episode of Friends was queued on the TV floating through the air. A bottle of red wine had been opened at some point and the two half full glasses sit precariously on fake wood floors.

You must have slightly fallen asleep at some point, coming around to the smell of freshly cooked dough and a smiling Arthur staring down at you.

"You were dead to the world, not even the sound of me stacking it over our bathroom towels could wake you." He laughs at the memory, sitting down beside you and handing you a box.

You raise the lid, welcoming the mouthwatering scent of pizza as you shuffle up to sit. "I could smell the pizza."

Arthur guffaws around the piece stuffed halfway into his mouth, eyeing you playfully. "Of course it was the food that raised you from the dead."

Shoving his shoulder with your own, you tuck into the meal in front of you, eyes tuned on the TV as The One with All the Thanksgivings starts playing.

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It had been a stressful few days. You weren't lying when you told Lisa you were about to have a breakdown over sofa cushions. Luckily, she'd popped round the next day, armed with a small mini fridge and freezer which she made Arthur carry into the house. You could have cried when she produced a cute "congratulations on your new home" card and a bouquet of sunflowers.

The two of you sat on the half put together sofa and scoured the Dunelm website for all their cushion options, opting for some light brown teddy bear ones and some darker brown velvet cushions. Arthur stayed out of the interior design chat, instead opting to run some water into a pint glass for the flowers and bring over two cups of tea for both of you before he disappeared off into his studio room to sort out the wiring.

"Typical man, leaving us to make the place look pretty."

You giggled at Lisa's comment, pointing out the framed artworks sitting propped against the wall. "He picked those out, to be fair to him. We decided he'd do the decorating and I'd just focus on the furnishings."

You continued on your Dunelm hunt, bookmarking everything you thought would look good in your new home, Lisa throwing in a few suggestions as to what you may need. By the time the two of you felt you had sufficiently scoured the website, it was nearing dinner time. Arthur popped his head round the corner to ask if you wanted him to run out and grab something to eat, but Lisa shook off his question, grabbing your hand and her car keys.

"Y/N, we'll nip out now and pick up a few bits, including a vase," she eyed the pint glass begging to tip over, "and we'll pick up some dinner too."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, smiling at how Lisa had taken you under her wing. Ever since he'd introduced the two of you, she'd taken an immediate shining to you, often sending you silly pictures that reminded her of you or organising coffee dates for the both of you to catch up.

One round trip for a vase and some cleaning essentials as well as a nice pub that did takeaway carveries later, you and Lisa bundle through the front door, giggling about the man in the elevator who had assumed the two of you were mother and daughter. Lisa had replied a cheeky "not yet" and had thrown a wink your way.

Arthur had moved from his studio to the living room, head popping over the back of the sofa at the sound of the two of you laughing. "What did I miss?"

One look at Lisa had you both giggling again, waving Arthur off as you unpacked the takeaway bowls of carvery and scoured the boxes for cutlery.

Arthur eyed the two of you warily, directing his mum to the sofa as he came to search for some glasses for the bottles of Coke you had picked up as well. Dropping a small kiss to the back of your neck, he smiled fondly when your eyes meet.

"This is nice."

You hummed, working on taking off the plastic lids. "Yeah, we were lucky to find the pub, Google Maps was useless."

He shook his head, one arm wrapping around your waist as he looks at his mum setting in on the sofa. "No, I mean this. Being sat in our home and listening to you and Mum laughing about god knows what. I was so worried when I introduced you that she wouldn't like you, I don't even know why, it's impossible to hate you. But, it's nice. I'm happy."

You turned in his grasp, hand coming to rest on the side of his neck. A soft smile overtook your lips at the serene expression on his face. "I'm happy too. I'm glad we did this. I love you."

He matched your smile, a small "I love you too" passing his lips before he pressed a soft kiss to yours.

"Hey, hungry mum over here!"

Lisa's voice broke the bubble around the two of you, both of you looking over to see Lisa smiling fondly from the sofa.

"My apologies, dear Lisa, let me bring it over now!" Laughing softly, you press one last kiss to Arthur's lips before sliding out of his embrace.

The three of you eat in comfortable silence, accompanied by the quiet sounds of the TV and the occasional comment about the dinner from one of you.

The sun had long since set and you and Arthur tried to convince Lisa to stay, but she shook her head, stating the two of you needed your own space and left soon after, leaving behind warm hugs and a kiss to both of your heads.

Choosing to tidy up tomorrow, you both head to bed. You slid in first, welcoming Arthur's warm embrace as you settle in for the night. He peppered soft kisses to your shoulder blade, nuzzling his head into the spot afterwards. "Goodnight, I love you."

Brushing a hand through his unruly hair, you dropped a kiss to the crown of his head. "I love you too." Taking in the surprising quietness of central London, you closed your eyes, excited to wake up to a new day in your new home.

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a/n: love love loveeeeee doing arthur hill requests <3 had to include my queen lisa x

[shikariiin]

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

For me it's already time! (GMT+9) and so I'll be posting this right now!!!!!!

In chinese zodiac 2024 will be the year of the dragon, so I thought it would be interesting to make Edward a dragon for my first 2024 art! And hey wouldn't you know it, It's also my year! I was also born in the year of the dragon, WHICH IS ALSO MY PERSONA HAHAHA.

I swear it's a coincidence!!!

But anywho I'm here to say thank you for all the support and encouragement I get from y'all, I wish my friends, mutuals, and followers a great year, there were ups and downs but I managed to pull through, those who stays will forever get my appreciation and those who are lost is already forgiven, HAPPY NEW YEAR ALL!

Now excuse me while I drink champagne until I can see god, Cheers!🥂

No text + no background

[silent-raven13]

And my man, thank you to my man 😝💖👨🏿‍❤️‍👨🏾

Miles happily smiles as he received a bouquet of Sunflowers, stuffed patched up teddy bear with markers drawn on it, and Jamaican take out for his lunch. The 18 year old saw his two friends looking at the gifts, while they decided to eat outside of the cafeteria. A nice change in location, to enjoy the view of Miguel's world.

Gwen: What's all of this? -one hand on her hip, she placed her tray of Mexican take out down on the table-

Pav nodded having his Chinese take out for lunch, he's so hungry he shove noodles into his mouth then spoke: Yeah?

Miles playfully said: They're gifts! -he sniff the bouquet of flowers loving the scent- They smell so fresh!🥰

Gwen: Let me guess, Hobie?

Miles nodded his head very fast with excitement: You know, he likes to spoil me. ☺️ -he couldn't help but snuggle his teddy bear- He made this for me! Isn't that cute?

Pav sips his soda: Whoa, he did! Wow, what did you get him?

Miles: My love! -He laughs playfully- I should, huh? Let me think... hmm🤔

Gwen: It should be something functional. It's the best way to use the gift.

Pav: or romantic!

Miles snaps his fingers: I know! I can get him a new guitar pick with our names on it! 🥰

Gwen: That is a great gift.

Hobie appears with his arms wrapping behind Mies' shoulder: Gift? What gift? -He kisses Miles' cheek- Aye, luv. Love your gifts?

Miles smiles widely showing off his teeth: Yes, bae! The bear is so cute! -He gave many kisses on his boyfriend's cheeks, and his hand caressing Hobie's arms- I love'em! 😘

Hobie smiles widely: I'm glad. You know, you don't have to give me nothing, dear.

Miles pouts: But I should. You're my man!

Hobie's face flustered: That's enough for me. 🥰

Pav giggles: Awwwweeeee.

Gwen: What if Miles' want to give you something to show that he loves you as much as you do.

Hobie: Oh he can never love me as much as I love him. -He sits besides his boyfriend, then lowly said- I would conquer the world for him!

Miles hearts flutter: Awe, I know you would! -he hugs his boyfriend with his arms around Hobie's neck- And you would make me a God?

Hobie grins widely: Of course, luv! I would make everyone worship you!

Gwen: Sounds like fascism...

Pav: Yeah! Wouldn't that go against what you believe in, Hobs?

Hobie chuckles lowly almost a bit amusing: Heh, funny, ain't it. It will be different because it will be my Sunflower! And everyone would get to worship my darling! -He playfully tap his boyfriend's nose- He's too precious!😌

Miles snuggles against: Love you, baby! 🥰😍

Hobie: Love you, darling. 😘 Oh I almost forgot -he handed Miles' his favorite soda, OK Kola Champagne- I forgot to give you this!

Miles gladly took his drink with his eyes widen: No way, bae! How did you get this? The Cafeteria doesn't sell this! 😲 -He grew up with this soda, one of his favorites. His mom would buy them in glass bottles and they would always drink together as a way of bonding. He opens the can hearing a small hiss then sips- Mmm, so good!

Gwen looks at Hobie, who's already pink: Man, you gotta stop spoiling him!

Pav chuckles: Damn, I'm not even like that with Gayatri... maybe I should be 🤔

Miles giggles having to share his lunch with his boyfriend, he offers him to try the soda: Here, have a sip. -he watches Hobie taking a sip then shrugs- Too sweet?

Hobie: You know me, luv. I rather drink ale than a Pop... -He use to drink a lot of beer before meeting Miles. Now, he rarely drinks it.- But this isn't bad.

Miles wraps his arms around Hobie's left arm, his head snuggling against him. Hobie's body turns red with magazine words of love and hearts: Well, I still need you to try Pegao and other Puerto Rican snacks.

Gwen only eats as she listen to the couple then asked: What's Peg-Ow?

Pav burst out laughing: Gwen, what?

Miles: Pegao? It''s crispy rice. It's so good. Dominicans call it Concón.

Hobie said with a smile on his face: I'll try anything for you, Sunflower.

Miles: I know, you will, baby! Mwah! -he kisses Hobie's lips-

Gwen: Oh brother, here they go again. -The lovey dovey sometimes be too much for her-

Pav: They are here for the long run!

Hobie: For sure!

Miles turns to his friend: Yeah, he's my baby!

Gwen turns to Pav: And he will be the first one to proudly let everyone.

Pav: Miles would give a whole speech about Hobie!

Hobie smiles widely hearing his boyfriend: I would! I would like to thank my bae for these gifts and lunch -then chuckles- And my man, thank you to my man! -he playfully stuck his tongue out while hugging his boyfriend-

Hobie could only chuckles having to put Miles on his lap: Amazing speech, luv! 🥰 It's the best one I heard!

[lovelytsunoda]

new year's eve // zhou guanyu

summary: a sponsor event in the big apple, white wine on linen, a chinese stain removal method and a red silk qipao bring zhou and y/n together for a new year's adventure that teaches them important lessons about self-love, intimacy and the joy of living.

pairing: zhou guanyu x female reader

it's new years eve, theres too much noise, i could barely hear my own voice. i always said you were too shy, but then I went off to cry. wish i'd never worn that white dress. you found me outside, looking like somebody died

warnings: descriptive panic attack, drinking in a social setting, mentions of premature labour, a little bit of a she’s all that-esque makeover, an iconic chinese grandmother, badly translated mandarin, mentions of body insecurity. the smut scene includes the following: oral (fem receiving), an absurd amount of touching (good god have you seen this man’s hands?!?!), cowgirl, post-coital dysphoria and insecurities, aftercare & sugar sweet zhou <3

author's note: i think that this could very well be one of my favourite things that i have ever written. . . .it feels very 'nick and norah' crossed with 'she's all that'. so without further ado, here is the final full-lenght fic of 2022, and i can't wait to go into 2023 with you guys : )

new york city, new year's eve.

he didn't want to be there.

in the big party thrown by one of valtteri's new york sponsors, lost in a sea of people speaking english that was too fast for him to grasp.

val had promised him it would be different, that zhou's presence was just as important as the finn's.

so why didn't it feel that way? why had the entire trip, meant to be a team bonding experience, feel like zhou was playing third wheel to valtteri and tiffany's winter couple's holiday?

and now he was standing in the lobby of some plush hotel, brushing shoulders with the self-centered american elites. he stood in the back corner, with an almost full glass of expensive champagne in hand.

he’s lost valterri an hour ago, with the driver swept up in a crowd of people who wanted his attention.

there was a commotion in the crowd, and zhou couldn’t tear his eyes away as a young woman in a puffy tan jacket and a long white dress came running, purse dangling from her hand and white wine running down her front, an apologetic waiter shouting after her.

zhou placed his champagne on the counter, hoping to catch the girl before she rushed out of the hotel doors, before he noticed that her phone had fallen out of her hand and clattered to the floor.

“miss?” he shouted, picking up the iPhone in its dropproof case, the screen lighting up with a stock photo from pinterest featuring a bouquet of tulips.

but she didn’t hear him, pushing her way out of the hotel.

so the alfa romeo driver saw no other option but to run after her.

“sorry to bother you,” he started, pulling his prada trench coat tighter around his body as a shield from the cold. “you dropped your pho-oh my god, are you okay?”

the woman was sitting on a bench outside the hotel, red in the face with tears in her eyes as she gasped for breath, clutching at her chest as she tried to fill her lungs with the winter air. she shook her head, panic in her eyes as zhou knelt down to meet her eyes.

“hey, look at me. I’m going to hold your hands, okay? I want you to breathe with me. gently in and out.” he guided her, trying to match their breathing together. slowly, he could see the color returning to her face. “you dropped your phone.” he said gently, pulling the iphone out of his pocket.

“thank christ.” she exhaled, taking the device from the driver. “I probably would’ve died once I found out I left it in there. I’m y/n.”

“zhou. or, guanyu, guanyu zhou, as you americans would say.”

“zhou guanyu.” she said softly, saying it the chinese way, with his last name first. now that she was talking more freely, he noticed her accent. australian. she was a long way from home. “I like it. it sounds regal, almost like you’re royalty. what brings you to the big apple? sounds like both of us are a long way from home.”

zhou sighed, taking a seat on the bench next to her. “it’s a promotional event for my teammate. I think valtteri invited me out of pity.”

“wait, valtteri bottas?” y/ns ears perked up. “I might be reaching a bit, but do you know his girlfriend, tiffany cromwell?”

“of course I know tiff. how do you?”

“my cousin is her nutritionist, she was supposed to be tiffany’s plus one, but her baby had other ideas and she went into premature labour, so tiff invited me along instead.”

the two young adults sat in silence for a minute as all the pieces slotted together in their brains, before zhou shouted in cantonese and y/n cursed under her breath.

“those cunts.” she snickered “I bet val and tiff planned this. they were setting us up, weren’t they?”

zhou laughed, a gleeful sound, his head tilted back and a few silky strands of his dark hair falling in front of his eyes. “it looks like we’re a few steps ahead of them.”

“I guess we are.” she laughed, brushing some hair behind her ear. “fuck, it’s cold as balls out here. and the wine down the front of my dress isn’t helping much.”

zhou looked over, watching the warmly coloured liquid soak into the thin white fabric. he reached for his own phone, fingers scrabbling across the keyboard.

“I have an idea. there’s this old chinese remedy my mom used to use to get dirt and grass stains out of my race suits as a kid. and if it can get grass out of a race suit, it can get white wine out of a linen dress.”

“I’m impressed that you even know that my dress is made of linen.”

“it’s a skill set. it’s not useful, it it’s a skill set.” the driver shrugged. “the closest chinese market is twenty minutes away by taxi. what do you think, y/n? do you fancy a new york adventure with me?”

y/n snorted “good luck getting a taxi in new york city on bloody new years.”

zhou got to his feet, running towards the street corner, waving his arm in the air. “taxi!” he shouted. “fuck, I’ve always wanted to do that!”

y/n laughed as she stood up, hobbling across the icy sidewalk in her high heels, trying not to step on the hem of her dress. zhou had successfully hailed a cab in under an hour, a feat that few accomplished on new years in the big apple.

he held the door open for her with a grin and a proper curtesy, a grin on his face as he said ‘after you, m’lady."

the taxi wove in an out of the new york traffic, turning down a side street lit with paper lanterns in glowing red and yellow. y/n watched on, entranced by the city that never stopped moving around her, fingers absently drawing simple shapes in the condensation that had formed on the inside of the window. zhou watched her with a tender smile on his face, completely at a loss on how to explain his sudden infatuation with the girl sitting next to him. he was drawn to everything about her: her loud mouth, her soft eyes, her gentle accent.

she was magnetic, and zhou was a refrigerator magnet.

the cab came to a stop in front of a small bodega, windows plastered with advertisements for chinese soft drinks, paper signs in calligraphy dictating the opening hours. the only thing written in english was the blinking open sign hanging in the door.

zhou paid the cab driver before taking y/n's hand in his and opening the glass door. the market had a cozy, homely feel to it: shelves packed with brightly colored boxes, a rack of brightly colored qipao lining one far wall, the spinning rack of postcards by the front door, the neon drink cooler that seemed to glow brighter than anything else in the calmly lit room.

it reminded her almost of the tourist trap market areas in sydney.

behind the counter, a young woman of about twenty-five leaned over the counter, a juul hanging from the corner of her mouth as she flipped through an issue of cosmopolitan. zhou went straight to the counter, striking up a conversation in mandarin as a shorter elderly woman with a bright smile emerged from the curtain hanging over the back room.

"what can i do for you today, young man?" the shopkeeper had a knowing look in her eyes as they roamed back and forth between zhou and y/n, who was looking at the delicately made qipao in wonder, her fingers dancing across the delicate silk. "condoms are in the third aisle."

zhou's face blushed pink, and he coughed to disguise the laugh that threatened to bubble over. "what, no, my friend spilled some white wine on her dress." he went on to list all of the ingredients he would need to clean the linen. "could you help us out?"

the shopkeeper nodded. "i'll need her dress. unfortunately, i only have qipao for her to wear in the meantime." she turned to the young woman at the other end of the counter who had just exhaled a cloud of watermelon scented water vapour. "mei-lin, can you help the young woman get soem fresh clothes so i can wash her dress?"

"a makeover?" mei-lin's eyes lit up as zhou called y/n over. "i'm finally going to get to 'she's all that' someone?"

y/n's eyes widened as she looked at zhou. "what's happening?"

"mei-lin is going to help you." the shopkeeper switched to english as she looked at y/n with a smile. "i trust her to get you settled, and then your friend and i will get that pesky wine stain out of your lovely dress."

neither party missed the change in the old woman's tone when she said the word 'friend'.

"and on that note," mei-lin said, breaking up the awkward silence. "i'm going to go pick out some qipao, and you can go straight to the back room so we can get this party started."

with one last panicked look at zhou, y/n retreated to the back room as the shopkeeper took zhou by the hand and helped him find the things he needed for his mother's herbal stain remover.

"first things first, call me melanie, that's the name that i prefer for myself. nainai is very traditional, but it's something that i love most about her." mei-lin smiled. "now, get that pesky dress off and we'll find something to impress loverboy out there."

y/n laughed nervously as she watched melanie hang up the qipao on an exposed pipe in the break room. "okay, so he and i just met half an hour ago, and is this not cultural appropriation, or fetishization or something?"

"semantics. i'm sure nainai would have given you other clothes if we had something other than qipao, but i think she's secretly excited about having the chance to show these off. she makes them herself, you know. she was an atelier in beijing before they decided to come to new york." melanie paused, looking at the four dresses she'd hung up. "mr. prada over there looked like a boobs man, is he a boobs man? and it's cold outside so that takes out the short one."

the australian tuned it out as she slipped out of her heels, puffer jacket and the soaked linen dress. a part of her was surprised that the wine hadn't frozen solid on her dress yet as she passed it over the paper screen to melanie, who was standing on the other side, seemingly having made up her mind about the qipao.

"what were you wearing underneath that dress? nainai makes lingerie too, i'm sure there's a box back here somewhere. she sells it on amazon, small business and whatever. my grandmother is quite the entrepreneur. let me find something that matches the qipao. we're going to knock mr. prada's socks off!"

by this point, y/n had discovered that it was useless to try and reason with melanie, and felt all the fight leave her body. besides, she couldn't remember the last time she had been pampered, and there was a part of her that felt a rush of adrenaline thinking about the alfa romeo driver's hands all over her body.

she was doing this for herself, and nobody else. something out of her comfort zone. consider it an early new year's resolution.

she was presently surprised in her appearance when she emerged from the paper screen, looking at the mirror hanging limply on the concrete wall. the red fabric hugged her curves perfectly, enunciating all the things she had once been insecure about in a flattering, pleasing way.

she felt sexy, and it was a foreign feeling. but it also gave her confidence, and that's when she thought she might break. for the first time, she wasn't wearing that big label that said 'fragile, handle with caution'.

melanie clapped her hands in glee. "you look stunning, absolutely wonderful!! huálì de! mr. prada isn't going to know what hit him!"

but also in that same mirror, y/n could see her messy, disarrayed hair, her smudged mascara. puffy eyes from crying.

"makeup wouldn't happen to be a part of this makeover deal, would it?"

twenty minutes later, she emerged from the back room as a changed woman, fighting the urge to draw into herself timidly, instead walking with her head held high, hair pulled back in a prim bun and held together with two red and gold hair pins.

"hi." she said awkwardly, waving her arm limply as zhou looked up from his phone, jaw dropping in wonder.

he had been in the middle of texting valtteri when y/n emerged from the back room, effectively taking his breath away. she looked regal and confident, something in her appearance that hadn't been there before. the qipao had a tighter fit than the linen she was wearing earlier, drawing zhou's attention to parts of her body that he hadn't even noticed before.

"hi. uh, wow, you look incredible."

"keep the qipao." nainai smiled from behind the counter. "it suits you. i designed it for a girl like you, you know. someone who needed an extra boost of confidence in herself. you wear it well, xiao niao. and if anybody asks where it's from, please send them over here."

y/n lowered her voice, looking at zhou. "what did she just call me?"

the driver laughed. "xiao niao. it means 'little bird'."

a simple term of endearment shouldn't have made her heart flutter the way that it did. it was the way the syllables rolled of zhou's tongue that made the butterflies in her stomach run rampant.

and she'd be damned if she didn't end the night in his bed, or at least with her lips on his.

and she didn't even know where this sudden rush of lust and self-confidence had come from. but she planned on riding that wave as long as she could.

“I’m sorry for cutting your gala short.” she apologized softly, pulling her jacket back on. “although i don’t think that you were having a lot of fun.”

zhou chuckled. “it’s fine. I didn’t want to be there all that much anyways. I only went for valtteri.”

“and I only went for tiffany.”

melanie gave them a knowing look from where she stood next to her grandmother behind the counter. “there’s a really good hot coco place around the corner, you guys could walk there if you wanted to.”

“what do you think, zhou?” she asked softly, looking at the alfa driver. “should we keep the night going?”

“the night is still young.”

nainai smiled. “here’s your dress, honey.” she said, passing a plastic walmart bag over the counter. “rinse it out in the morning and it will be perfectly fine. keep him, he’s a smart one.” the older woman laughed, pointing at zhou.

the two young adults left the bodega together, still dancing around hand holding, although zhou was ever the gentleman, holding doors open and guiding y/n away from the puddles and ice, still balanced on her stiletto heels.

nainai and melanie watched thoughtfully from inside the market. “I give them an hour tops before she ends up in his bed.”

“nainai!” melanie gasped. “I’d only give them half that.”

her grandmother shook her head with a grin and a small laugh. “she’s got him wrapped around her little finger.”

melanie grinned, taking another drag from her juul. “hell yeah she does. and I don’t even think she knows it.”

out on the street corner, once they were out of sight from the bodegas windows, y/n quickly zipped up her jacket, reaching behind her head to pull out the hair pins, shaking her waves out.

"there. this feels a little less cultural appropriate-y. melanie pulled the bun too tightly anyways."

"i think that your hair looks better like that." zhou remarked offhandedly. "and the qipao looks brilliant."

y/n looked at the hairpin in her hands, the cold night air rapidly cooling the metal in her hands. the pin was wrapped in a sleeve of red string, a silver dragon piece spiraling down the shaft.

"i love dragons." she remarked, twirling the hairpin around as she followed zhou in the direction that the shopkeeper had pointed them, desperate for a warm drink. "i have a collection of them, little ceramic dragons. i pick up one wherever i can, usually when i travel. this will look pretty neat in the display cabinet."

the hot chocolate bar seemed to light up the entire street. the interior was all white marble and subway tile, bouquets of pale pink roses on each table. ever the gentleman, zhou held the door open for her, his breath turning to vapour in the cold air. she thanked him, going straight to the counter, trying to warm up her hands as she held on to zhou's.

chalkboards behind the counter detailed the extravagant and overpriced, sugar-filled beverages, and y/n couldn't decide what she wanted to try first. the cafe was fairly empty, the driver and his plus one being the only two people in the line, and two of five in the whole resteraunt.

y/n supposed that it was because there were better places to be on new year's eve in new york city. they ordered, and zhou found himself tapping the credit card app on his phone against the debit machine before y/n even had a chance to get her wallet out of her purse.

"you didn't have to do that." she said softly as the alfa driver collected the receipt from the barista.

"i know. but i wanted to." he took a soft breath before the duo sat down nest to each other in a corner booth. "you're worth every penny."

"you don't even know me."

"but i want to. i want to know everything, y/n."

and for the next hour, that's what they did. talking about anything and everything, laughing at each other's jokes. it was awkward and comfortable and giggly in that way that you could only ever read about in books. zhou told her everything about racing, travelling, growing up in shanghai. they bonded together over hot chocolates piled high with caramel sauce, whipped cream and ground up oreo cookies and caramel chips.

"y/n, you've got a little something . . ." zhou's voice trailed off as he placed his delicate, slender fingers underneath her chin, using them to tilt her head back so he could use the pad of his pointer finger to swipe the whipped cream and caramel off the top of her cupid's bow.

their eyes met, a flash of recognition sparking between them as y/n's eyes fluttered closed, lips parting in anticipation as zhou carefully placed his lips against hers, cradling her bottom lip between his.

he held her as if she was made out of glass, like he was scared of making too many sudden movements lest she shatter. they parted gently, foreheads resting against each other before y/n broke, pulling him back in for an even fiercer kiss, her lips burning every time their lips made contact, arousal pooling in her stomach as zhou gently placed his hand against her neck.

"my hotel room or yours?"

_____

how alive she felt with his lips on hers.

they stumbled in through the hotel door, hands on each other's bodies with reckless abandon, jackets and purses falling to the hardwood floor as she hobbled out of her high heels, zhou's lips on her neck as she fell against the wall, pulling him closer by the waistband as she redirected his lips to hers.

he couldn't help but briefly wonder what his mother would think. deflowering a girl in a qipao? a girl who wasn't even chinese?

zhou slipped his palm up the small slit in the side of the qipao, running his soft hands along y/n's tender skin, goosebumps following in his wake.

"i'd strip for you," y/n started with a small laugh. "but i have no idea how to take this damn thing off."

"don't worry about it." he said with a soft kiss to her forehead. "i've got you."

she was shocked at how quick she had spread her legs for him, how safe she felt in his presence.

how alive she felt with his lips on hers.

he took his time with her once she was undressed, wearing nothing but the bright red lingerie, lace fabric dotted with hearts, his soft fingertips caressing her thighs, his lips following after. he wasn't even kissing her, just softly feeling every inch of her underneath his soft, plump lips.

"zhou, please." she breathed out. "i need you to do something, i can't take this."

"patience, bao bei. i want to enjoy you." the tip of his index finger traced the crease of her thigh, so despairingly close to where she ached to feel him.

"zhou." she whined, taking his hand in hers and guiding it over the lace. "i need to feel your mouth on me."

she wasn't sure when she had become this bold, when she didn't feel the urge to shy away during the most intimate of moments. didn't feel the urge to hide when zhou pulled her panties aside, pressing a feather light kiss to her clit.

and then the real fun began as he licked up her dripping center, probably making a mess of the hotel bedsheets in the process. y/n's hand flew to the back of his head as he slipped his tongue inside her, gently moving it in and out as he listened to her breathy moans, her head tilted back as she bit her lip to stop herself from cursing.

"zhou, please, just like that, right there baby . . . " she whined, before the driver withdrew his tongue and kissed her inner thigh, sloppy, sticky and messy.

"god, you're beautiful." he breathed before he mumbled something in mandarin. "i can't get enough of you, bao bei."

it was going to be a long, long night.

they welcomed the new year still wrapped in the sheets. zhou leaned back against a pile of pillows, his hands gripping y/n's hips as she rode him, her hands braced on his chest as he stared up at her in wonder.

this was round three, their bodies covered in sweat, hickies beginning to form on their skin as they huffed and groaned, y/n shaking above him as she felt her third orgasm rapidly approach.

"oh god, you fill me so well, baby. i think i'm gonna come!"

zhou's face was blushed and rosy as he tightened his grip, thrusting his hips up to wrangle another harsh moan from the back of y/n's throat.

she came just as the fireworks started to go off outside the window, bright colors from the flashes illuminating the room in shades of red and gold as her strength evaporated, her body slumping against his as his hips stilled, filling the latex condom with his seed.

"happy new year, y/n." he smiled, kissing the side of her head as she turned to look at him.

"happy new year, zhou." she grinned before she kissed him.

____

she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, sweaty hair hanging around her face, the red sheen dissipating from her face as she criticized every part of her appearance.

the adrenaline had worn off, and now she felt like shit. even wearing the prada t-shirt zhou had lent her when she got out of the bed to run to the washroom was another thing for her to judge about herself.

how had she been so careless to fall into bed with him so quickly? she avoided one night stands like the plague, and sometimes even in proper relationships, the act left her feeling like this.

feeling like she was just another thing to be used.

"y/n?" zhou shouted, his disembodied voice followed by a knock on the bathroom door. "i'm coming inside, okay? i'm worried about you."

the door slid open, and she wiped at the tears threatening to collect under her eyes.

"bao bei?" zhou said softly. he was dressed in nothing but grey sweatpants, loosely tied and hanging off his waist. "what's wrong? did i do something?"

"no, no." she shook her head quickly, wiping at her eyes. "you did everything just fine. you treated me like a queen this entire night."

zhou took her hands in his, running his thumbs over her knuckles. "it's just the adrenaline drop, sweetheart. you're beautiful, and smart, and funny, and this has been the best night of my life. and i want to keep this going. i want to know you better. how about you come back to bed, we'll cuddle. and then in the morning, you and i go out for breakfast?"

"yeah, i like that." she smiled, squeezing his hands in hers. "i really like you, zhou. and i've had a really good time with you, tonight."

he kissed her softly, brushing a section of her hair away from her face.

"come on, get some rest, beautiful. i'll see you in the morning. or, later this morning."

y/n laughed. "what time even is it?"

"12:45, january first."

"yeah, let's go back to bed."

____

Tags: @magnummagnussen @scuderiamh @sidcrosbyspuck @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @daydreamingleclerc

[may--hawk]

sweet thing (ineffable remix)

With your champagne eyes / and your saint-like smile

Aziraphale’s learned what the Bentley sounds like from three blocks away, can make out the sound of it accelerating through the red light on Tottham Street even when it’s almost lost under the cacophony of protesting horns. His record, whatever record he’s got on, stops sometimes, just like his heart, funny old thing, as Crowley rounds the corner, the roar of the car now immediate, swelling to fill the whole street, pedestrians turning to look, backing up, some yelling or gesturing. He hears when Crowley revs the ending at them to get them out of the way, recognizes the particular grind of brakes and squeal of tires as Crowley pulls up to the curb. And then Crowley breezes into the shop, all dynamite and jumping jacks, bringing with him the smell of outside, of autumn, the smell of Eden he carries with him always. They both do. Aziraphale wonders if Crowley knows, if he can pinpoint that particular Earth-odor underneath their other smells, something all tree and leaf and green and life. He rather thinks Crowley can, if it’s any indication of why Crowley breathes in, deep, whenever Aziraphale’s around.

Crowley prowls the shop, restless, picking up knick-knacks and putting them down again, hundreds or even thousands of years of knickknacks, things made of the Earth, things that perhaps should have gone back to the Earth by now that Aziraphale has, regardless, kept carefully separate and whole, as remembrance. As celebration.

“Come on, angel,” Crowley says after his fifth circuit of Romance, 1800-1880. “Let’s go.”

So they go.

It’s a celebration - October 21st, the very first day of the world, a Monday, this year. (“Changes every year,” Crowley had said once sagely back in Mesopotamia, oh, ages ago, when they were drinking beer to celebrate the Earth’s birthday, as champagne hadn’t been invented yet.) They celebrate every October, in every city they’ve been together in. And sometimes if they aren’t. Like when Crowley says, “Just popped into Marrakesh for a quick temptation,” and then he’s gone in the morning,1 having found, after all, no time for the temptation, between the drinking, and the eating, and the reminiscing. Or Aziraphale will call Crowley up in Vegas, will listen to the lines click and hum with the distance between them, the distance that is this world stretching so wide and vast under them and around them and even above them.

(And they celebrate, too, or have celebrated, in their times of popularity, New Year’s Day and Samhain and the Russian Orthodox New Year and the Chinese New Year because who are they to miss a good excuse for champagne? But they both know that this one is the one that counts. October 21st. They do all sorts of things - drink and dine and go to shows and go on walks but mostly they tell stories, their favorite game: Remember when? Remember them? And at the end of the night,2 always, they end up talking about the Garden, because that’s what it all comes back to, that is how the Earth stared, where the very core of its soul is - if planets can be said to have souls.3)

This October 21st is a beautiful bright unexpected autumn day, the sky pure blue against the trees, orange and yellow and red, warm enough in the sun that it feels like Eden again, when everything was gentle and soft and warmly lush, everything Adam and Eve could ever need right at their fingertips. The magnolias used to blossom as Eve walked by, a continuous riot of color and bloom. These trees are different, this city is different, these people are different, but the hearts of everything are the same, tree and bedrock and human, all a testament to the Earth’s great constancy.

Crowley’s wanted to see some new plant at Kew Gardens, he says casually - as if Aziraphale doesn’t know he hisses a pep talk at the new exhibits to grow better, taller, more beautiful, and that if they do well enough, that Crowley will return with a sharp knife and one of his miraculous mysterious pockets to take cuttings. After, dinner; after that, the bookshop, where they will drink a toast to the Earth, the only beings aside from the Earth that know or care the importance of the day.

Aziraphale insists they walk the arboretum first to work up a good appetite for lunch. It had rained the night before, had finished raining that morning, and as they walk the paths, grasses and plants brush against them, wetting their trousers, their shoes. Crowley’s hands are shoved in his pockets as he ducks under a tree, shaking a shower of cool fresh sweet water down on Aziraphale. Aziraphale breathes in deeply, remembers the springs in Eden, so many of them, dozens of them running every which way, under hill and over field, and he had caught Crowley once with his ragged robe pulled up and his scaled feet dipped in the water laughing with delight. Aziraphale hadn’t seen laughter in a very long time, not in Heaven, anyway. Adam and Eve laughed constantly. Perhaps it was the Garden, it was this Earth, Aziraphale had thought. Something about it made one lighter, made one almost free.

Aziraphale wants to show Crowley something now, a particularly vibrant and vivid plant, so he slips his hand into the crook of Crowley’s elbow to tug him back. Crowley slips back obligingly enough, as if he’s the dark shadow of the tree peeling off to join Aziraphale. They lean over the plant, shoulders brushing, and Crowley slips off his glasses and puts them in his pocket so he can peer at the plant closely. He turns his yellow eyes to Aziraphale like the sun and Aziraphale is just as warmed as if they were; Aziraphale leans towards him, drawn. Crowley prods at the plant with one long finger, then, and Aziraphale remembers suddenly a moment in the Garden when Crowley had called him over to ask about some plant. They’d both leaned over it together in much the same way, and Aziraphale had racked his brain for the Earth plans, trying to remember what it was. He hadn’t been able to, so they’d started to guess, the suggested names getting more colorful and ridiculous as they went on, until Aziraphale had laughed, and Crowley had looked at him with that strange little smile. The way he’d looked at stars. Their shoulders were brushed, and brushed again, and Aziraphale had thought, funny, he doesn’t feel wicked or bad or sinful at all, he just feels solid, and warm, like the Earth under my feet. Back when they were young, and so was the Earth, and humanity too, so much promise just waiting on the tree, like an apple to be picked.

1. Well, afternoon, because they’ve drunk well into the following day. back

2. Or day. back

3. They can. Any good angel - fallen or not - who has created stars and planets and other such celestial bodies knows that they have souls just as real as angels’ souls. They’re just much, much larger, and, as a consequence, a bit slower. back

Read the rest on AO3.

[sgiandubh]

Interesting 🤔

https://www.tumblr.com/outlanderskin/740526433423802368/today-i-was-thinking-if-i-were-a-famous-person-i

Dear Famous Person Anon,

I read what @outlanderskin wrote with great attention and I agree with roughly every word in it.

I can only offer you my own view/experience of it, after more than 20 years in several Government jobs, all across the board. I can tell you, for example, that every single day (yes, even on Sundays!) two different press reviews hit my inbox. Our own MFA's Global Press Review (this is how you find out, for example, what the South African or Mexican or Chinese press wrote about your country, if anything of note happened). Also, the Local Press Review, which is much more interesting and which usually comes from the host country's central news agency. The Local Press Review is a short, generalist overview of the main news and you have to read it while having your frappé and koulouri. This is often where you'll fish out ideas for your day: make a couple of phone calls, check the info, invite someone you know for lunch in town and eventually write home a short report, if needed.

If I were these people's PR agent, I would surely have somebody paid to monitor press on their behalf. But Tumblr? That, Anon, is a stretch, even in my world: we never read local blogs, unless they are involved in a local media scandal, or something. And, sorry to burst some people's bubbles and bruise some egos here, but: you can boast around all the Sources and Timelines you want, you will still be just another gossip blog. Nothing less, but nothing more.

This is exactly why such an inordinate interest for Tumblr, who made it on mainstream global media, via C's Vanity Fair diatribe, will always make me raise an eyebrow. Think about it: had it been S, the ABC crowd would have opened their champagne bottles (gay! closeted gay! cheap cover up!). But it was C, someone with the 'perfect press story'. Why even bother? I shall let you draw your own conclusions, Anon.

Plus we all know they read us and sometimes react and, to be honest, it's plain to see. It's not the 'if', here: the 'why' is one of the keys to this whole shitshow.

I hope this helps. Thanks for asking!

[w3ath3r-0f-sw34t3rz]

remember that time i chose a top ten for all of my favorite artists? no you don't but i'm gonna re-do it. and so

forcing myself to pick a top ten (in no particular order except for the top 3) for my favorite artists. why? because!

cavetown

this is home

boys will be bugs

it's u

devil town

pyjama pants

snake & the prairie dogs

smoke signals

a kind thing to do

pigeon

let them know they're on your mind

cavetown offline edition

rocket ships

rain

evergreen

alien waves

winter coat

thank you

petrify

ghost boys

vacation with the ghosts

candle

conan gray

alley rose

fight or flight

the exit

comfort crowd

winner

best friend

footnote

lonely dancers

heather

bourgeoisieses

chloe moriondo

take your time

waves

killbot!

cry

exhausted

hotel for clowns

plastic purse

cdbaby<3

slacker

hearteyes

taylor swift

you're on your own, kid

cardigan

who's afraid of little old me?

enchanted

don't blame me

you're losing me

new year's day

champagne problems

lover

cowboy like me

boywithuke

migraine

out of tune

bad things

zoning out

so cold

falling for you

kind of sick of life

bad luck

heart of ice

problematic

penelope scott

cigarette ahegao

gross

moonsickness

born2run

lotta true crime

rät

runaway

sin eater

lavender

shuffle

beabadoobee

take a bite

1999

bobby

the way things go

the way i spoke

talk

coming home

apple cider

coffee

this is how it went

melanie martinez

evil

field trip

nymphology

pacify her

drama club

teacher's pet

carousel

brain & heart

cry baby

glued

mother mother

the matrix

arms tonite

bit by bit

weep

legs away

wisdom

forgotten souls

oh ana

love and truth

until it doesn't hurt

olivia rodrigo

obsessed

deja vu

vampire

all-american bitch

lacy

ballad of a homeschooled girl

traitor

teenage dream

good 4 u

can't catch me now

phoebe bridgers

graceland too

the gold

i know the end

scott street

would you rather

funeral

chinese satellite

icu

motion sickness

demi moore

mitski

first love/late spring

texas reznikoff

my body's made of crushed little stars

bag of bones

geyser

francis forever

crack baby

a pearl

strawberry blond

washing machine heart

tv girl

the blonde

blue hair

better in the dark

taking what's not yours

loving machine

pretty boy

not allowed

it almost worked

louise

summer's over

alex g

i wait for you

16 mirrors

thorns

runner

break

early morning waiting

mis

treehouse

time/space

know now

the neighbourhood

sweater weather

you get me so high

ferrari

flawless

the shining

greetings from califournia

reflections

sadderdaze

lost in translation

softcore

lana del rey

happiness is a butterfly

fishtail

the greatest

music to watch boys to

chemtrails over the country club

not all who wander are lost

born to die

let the light in

say yes to heaven

west coast

beach bunny

good girls (don't get used)

vertigo

racetrack

deja vu

prom queen

scream

painkiller

rearview

blame game

ghost

arctic monkeys

r u mine?

why'd you only call me when you're high?

fluorescent adolescent

arabella

mardy bum

balaclava

the jeweller's hands

fireside

505

i wanna be yours

who is this for? me. thank you

[sixminutestoriesblog]

new years traditions around the world

Humans like their superstitions. The world is so random and abstract and there is so much that we can't, no matter how hard we try, control. And yet, its human nature not to be content to let 'Fate' decide our - well - fate. Some of our oldest stories are about heroes doing exactly that, trying to avoid what life has set down for them. Often they don't succeed but it doesn't stop the next hero's story from trying.

And - every now and then, some hero, somewhere, does win.

What better time to try to set the record straight, determine the future and ward away disasters than as the clock turns over and gives us an entirely new year? So, today, let's talk about New Year's Eve superstitions and see just how many we're willing to do, not because we believe them but because, deep down, we figure why not?

Do you want to travel in the upcoming year? In Columbia, they walk, or run, around the block carrying empty suitcases to call it into the new year.

Hoping for a baby in the new year? In Greece, hang a bundle of onions over your front door. Not only will this up your chances of fertility, but onions encourage good luck too.

Want to make sure there are no evil spirits in your house? In Ireland they use their leftover Christmas bread to bang on the house walls to drive any lingering mischief out. In Puerto Rico, they dump a bucket of water out the window to wash evil spirits away. In Japan, Buddhist temples ring their bells 108 times before midnight, each toll driving away a specific vice or sin so that the new year can start clean. Fireworks can drive off evil spirits too. According to the historic Chinese, the loud sounds scare them off.

Want some predictions for the new year? In the Czech Republic, they cut apples in half. If the apple's core looks like a star than next year everyone will meet again, happy and healthy. If it's a cross, someone will soon be very ill. In Columbia, they place three potatoes under the bed, one peeled, on half peeled and the other left alone. At midnight, grab one. If its unpeeled, you will have financial woes. Still in its skin? A year of prosperity. And half and half is - well, half and half. In Ireland, hiding mistletoe under your pillow will let you dream of your future spouse.

Had a bad year you can't wait to see go? Open your doors and windows on new year's eve to let the old year out and the new year in (I suspect this is easier for people living in warmer climes). In Ecuador, they build paper effigies of the bad, usually politicians, and set it on fire! Bonus good luck if you can jump over that fire twelve times. In Japan, they clean their house to wash away the old year and have it fresh and ready for a brand new year.

Looking for a long, healthy life? In Japan, they eat soba, noodles that are as long as the life the consumers want to have.

Aiming for prosperity? In Turkey, they smash pomegranates on their doorstep. The more pieces and the bigger the mess, the better. In the Southern US, you need to get yourself a meal of Hoppin John. Round shapes resemble coins so in the Philippines you want to eat twelve round fruits at midnight. Don't count on the fruit alone though, in the Philippines its also good luck to wear polka dots the last day of the year.

Have a wish you want to come true? In Singapore, they float wishing spheres, giant floating balls people write their wishes on, in the Singapore River. In Russia they write the wish on a piece of paper, burn it and then drink the ashes down in a glass of champagne. In Brazil, jump over seven ocean waves - you get a wish for each one.

Do you just want general good luck? There's a lot of traditions for that. Eat fish - they only swim forward and so will carry you forward into the new year. In Denmark, get your dishes and go break them on your friends' and family's doorstep. The more broken pieces, the more the luck. In Spain, they eat twelve grapes as the clock strikes midnight for good luck but make sure you pay attention to what you're doing and finish by the end of the chimes or you get the opposite in the upcoming year. In Denmark, stand on a chair and 'leap' into the new year as the clock strikes midnight for good luck. Farmers should wish all their livestock a good new year first thing in the morning. Several countries hide a coin or an almond in the new years eve's dessert and whoever finds it will have good luck in the new year. In New York, they sell candy peppermint pigs that come with their own hammers. Smash the pig, eat the candy and get luck in the new year - and help burn off some holiday stress. In Armenia, the first batch of bread baked on the new year bakes in the luck for the rest of the year's cooking. In Turkey, as the clock strikes midnight, sprinkle salt on your doorstep for good luck. In Japan, waking up early to watch the first sunrise of the new year is supposed to bring good luck. In Romania, they toss a coin into a river on new year's eve.

And finally - don't forget to dress for the occasion! In Brazil, they wear white on new year's eve to bring in a year full of peace. You can still be racy though. Apparently the color of your underwear makes a difference.

White – peace and harmony

Silver – innovation

Blue – serenity and friendship

Green – good health and hope

Red – passion

Yellow/gold – money and happiness

Pink – romance and love

Purple – spiritual connection

Orange – creativity

Black – independence

So there you have it.

Happy New Year!

[captainsimagines]

pretty woman, this is me trying || two

Summary: Bucky Barnes does not like to be touched. He’s completely ready to live a distant life and give up when the time is right. Until Stark hires him his own personal pretty woman. Over time, Bucky Barnes begins to learn how to touch again. How to feel again. How to love himself again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female SexWorker!Reader

Trope(s): Holiday Fanfic ; Slow-Burn ; Friends to Lovers

Based on the Song(s): sweet nothing by Taylor Swift and Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

(2/14)

Mini-Series 

Warnings: discussions about consensual sex work; strong language; references to sexual acts

Word Count: 3,380+

~

     Sometimes you loved your job. Sometimes you hated it.

On a night like this, however, you absolutely loved it.

Kendall was a forty-something year old man—he hadn’t disclosed the exact age for work related reasons—and he always picked the best restaurants. Italian cuisine, Chinese, Mexican. It was like he scoured all of New York for you specifically, and made note of the best ones.

When he had first sent you a message, you were weirded out by the lack of information on his page. You had sent his profile to be vetted through the website’s system, only to be told that he had special permission to leave his profile half blank. Apparently, Mr. Kendall No Last Name was a CIA agent who asked for the utmost discretion.

So with pepper spray and a letter opener in your purse, you risked it.

And boy, was that a good choice.

He never wanted to sleep with you. He just wanted company. Someone to talk to about his pending divorce and about stress from work. A hot meal was provided, a hotel room was usually booked, and reruns of old 90s movies played in the background as Kendall continued ranting, drinking his champagne and falling asleep before you.

He was attractive. Green eyes and curly brown hair. A muscular body that wasn’t too extreme. Lips that you had found yourself staring at for too long some moments. But they were so perfectly etched on his face, how could you not?

You’d be a liar if you said you weren’t excited for his dates. He was a repeat client, scheduled for Friday nights and sometimes Saturday mornings. He had been choosing your services for over a year, and Christmas time brought his highest booking rates.

One-thousand dollars a night. No sex, he wouldn’t let you pay for food, and he always ended the date with, “So, same time next week?”

Your phone pinged with the notification that he had indeed booked you for the same time next week.

Kendall wasn’t your only client, though. And just because he wasn’t asking you for sex didn’t mean the others weren’t.

Justin was usually an all-in kind of guy. You usually had to fake your orgasms with him. But he was attractive and held good conversation, so you put up with it.

Marvin just wanted blowjobs. Literally, that was all he ever asked for. Then he filled up the rest of his time with talk of Star Wars.

Leslie was your only female client. After doing your nails and gossiping about work, she went down on you. Like, for an hour straight. Then she pulled out the strap-on, laid on her stomach, and asked you to fuck her hard and fast.

She was probably the client you looked forward to the most after Kendall.

You unlocked your apartment door and triple-checked the lock after closing it. You had left your pajamas laid out and your skincare routine all lined up. You internally high-fived yourself for that.

Once you snuggled up in bed, you scrolled through your social media. You were private on most things, and your public sites had no personal photos. It was a hazard for work, so you compromised.

As your eyes became heavier, you clicked off your phone and turned it upside down on your nightstand. You had a free day tomorrow. No clients, just grocery shopping.

Your phone pinged. Had Kendall forgotten something? Did you remember to take your cardigan from the passenger seat of his car?

You groaned and unlocked your phone, squinting as the light nearly blinded you. It was a notification from the escort app—a private message. You debated opening it in the morning, but a free day was a free day for a reason. No work, no distractions, nothing.

You choked on your spit as you finished reading the first line. Flopping over in bed, you reached over to turn on your lamp.

“Good evening, Escort Renaissance.”

You rolled your eyes. It was a stage name you had picked as a joke, thinking you could change it later. But your profile was completed and made permanent once you created the account. You would have to contact customer service to change it or create a whole different profile. It was more work than you wanted to do.

“As you can tell by the encryption, this message is private. Not even the technology support of this app can view it. My name is Maria Hill, co-director of Stark Industries and field agent, tasked with contacting you through Tony Stark himself.”

This had to be a joke. It was a joke. No way this was serious.

“We were wondering if you would be interested in attending the annual Avengers Christmas Ball this month. Our only request is that you attend on the arm of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. If his history is a dealbreaker for you, please delete this email and sign the NDA that will appear in your personal email inbox afterward.

If you accept, would you be able to visit the Avengers Compound tomorrow morning, December 2nd, and possibly meet with the Sergeant? Specifics of this agreement will be, and can only be, discussed in person.

Thank you,

Agent Maria Hill, Co-Director

Stark Industries”

You blinked at the message multiple times, rereading it just in case something popped up mid-read and announced it was a scam. Because this had to be.

There was no way the Winter Soldier was in the market for a hooker.

~

     You were a stupid person. You were going to be proven right, that this was all a scam, and be absolutely humiliated at the front door. Or rather, front gate.

Oh my god, there were people with guns at the front gate.

What the fuck do you say? Hi! I’m the escort one of you signed up for!

You drove to the entrance and counted your breaths, trying to make the next inhale longer than the last. The man at the kiosk motioned at you to stop your car. Then five other people started scanning it and checking your tires.

“You know what? Forget it. I just remembered I had this appointment with my nail tech at one today, so I can just put this bitch in reverse and fuck off—”

“Are you M.R?”

Are you M.R?

“By M.R, do you mean Miss Renaissance?”

The man’s eyebrows knitted together as he read his clipboard again. “Yeah, the artist Stark wanted to speak with about a new piece for his office.”

You swallowed a whimper. The humiliation was turning to nausea now. “Yup, that’s me. Artist, painter, what the fuck drawer.”

He stared at you for a few seconds before shaking his head, deciding it was better to just let you through than deal with you himself. If anything did go wrong, the Avengers would handle you.

Oh my god, the Avengers would handle you.

Squealing all the way to the parking lot, you prayed to whatever entity would listen that this conversation went well. Did the Avengers often call for sex workers to… accompany them to Balls? Or did they employ them for what the job description literally said?

You were escorted through the entrance and down several hallways. They let you know where the bathrooms were, where the fire alarm was, where the I need an Avenger, stat! alarm was. They were color-coded, too.

You stepped faaaar away from the green one.

They made you sign an NDA regardless. You were sat in a large room that looked lived-in, with a kitchen off to the side and the entrance to the gym on the other. A stray cardigan hung from the recliner and several board games were stacked in the bookcase. Someone’s Netflix home page was on the TV screen, slideshow on.

These were the same people who fought aliens and killed people. Who carried guns and were hunted by the government for a time. Who had seen atrocious things and lived through immense trauma—

“Miss Renaissance!”

You startled, phone toppling from your already shaking fingers and onto the blue rug. You scoped the floor like Velma looking for her glasses, apologizing under your breath. Whoever stepped in front of you had very nice dress shoes.

“That’s me, I’m her. Hi.”

They held out a hand. You dared to look up, whimper fully released now as you realized whose hand was reaching down to help you. Never in your life did you think Tony Stark would help you stand. Let alone contact you. No doubt he’s utilized the services of escorts and the like, but did you ever think you’d be one of them? Nope.

“Glad to see you’re on time! And dressed incredibly saucy if I may add.”

You blushed, looking down at your attire. You had worn a knitted sweater and a pair of leggings, with sneakers and some fuzzy socks. It was almost winter, after all. Stark’s sarcasm is a relief really. It didn’t sound condescending.

“Well, they say dress for the job you want, not the job you have.”

“And what job do you want?”

“Why, hooker of course!”

Stark sputters a laugh, smiling wide. “Yay, I like you already. Follow me?”

The breath is knocked from your lungs in one big rush. All the worry you were feeling beforehand had seemed to diminish, now turning into something more neutral. If they didn’t want you around, then you’ll have left without making such a horrendous first impression.

“You sign the NDA?”

“Got the ink on my fingers to prove it.”

“You like the compound?”

“I prefer my little shoebox.”

“You like big, strong, burly men with long hair?”

“If they can fuck like Gods, I’m all for them.”

Another choked laugh. “Good to know.”

He led you into a more private area, and it wasn’t until Pietro Maximoff appeared from a side door that you realized where you were heading.

A bedroom.

Oh my god, Stark was leading you to a bedroom. Oh my god, was work starting already?

“Um, I was told this was simply a meeting and that I didn’t have to perform—”

“Oh, Hell. I’m sorry. I’m leading you to the Sergeant’s room because it’s soundproof. You are not fucking him.”

You blew a raspberry, shoulders falling limp. “Oh, yay, good. I didn’t shave.”

“You know what? Forget about Barnes. Be mine instead.”

It was your turn to laugh. Stark knocked on the door three times, rocking on his heels as he waited.

What would the Winter Soldier be like? Was he tough and rugged? Was he quiet and mysterious? Was he gentle and kind? Did he fuck like a God?

The door opened to reveal none of the above.

There weren’t words to describe him. None would suffice.

You were utterly, truly, awestruck. He had blue eyes that looked so damn sad but gleamed a beautiful silver. A nose with the perfect arch that was just a little scarlet on the tip. Lips so pink and precious and hydrated, your leg muscles clenched. Long hair up in a messy bun, conditioned and shiny. And his body…

You were ogling. You were being offensive. You tried focusing on the objects behind him but that only got you looking at his shoulder.

Metal. Metal and strong and shit.

You wanted that metal hand wrapped around your neck.

“Hi,” you squeaked, clearing your throat immediately afterward. “I’m—”

“Renaissance?”

“Ugh, that’s a stage name. I would have chosen Lightening Pussy if they allowed name changes, but Renaissance is all I’ve got to work with.”

The Sergeant blinked, blue eyes looking from you to Stark. “Come in please.”

Scratch everything you said before about this being a bedroom. This was a whole private apartment. His own marble kitchen, living area, a single bathroom, and an extra private bedroom down the hall. It was amazing, but it wasn’t overly personal.

Everything looked like a model home. Impersonal but practical.

“So what do you want to know?”

The Sergeant opened his mouth to speak but Stark beat him to it. “Are you available for the entire month?”

You scoffed, “Are you serious?”

“Dead. Barnes here has been talking about swiping his V-Card since he moved in but he’s got a lot to learn. I would pay you for the entire month, even past the day of the Ball so you don’t lose out on any income that could have come from other dates.”

“I’m—” Barnes cringed, whispering lightly. “I’m not a virgin.”

Stark cleared his throat, his face suddenly going serious. He looked at Barnes like he was trying to apologize, to speak with his eyes. A conversation that needed to be had without you in the room.

So you changed the subject. “I would have to let my other clients know as soon as possible. What dollar range are we talking?”

“Let’s say…” Stark pretended to add in his mind. “One hundred thousand?”

“W-what?”

“Is that too little?” Stark asked, pulling out his phone. “I’m sure Pepper said that amount.”

“One… One hundred thousand?”

“Yeah, see, here,” Stark said, turning his phone and showing you the email. “One hundred thousand dollars, paid upfront, cash or check.”

“One hundred THOUSAND?”

“Is she not getting this? I’m getting this. Are you getting this, Barnes?”

Barnes wiped a frustrated hand down his face, groaning, “She gets it, Stark. She’s just not believing it.”

You usually made rent on time. Sometimes you had to dip into your savings, but that’s what it was there for. One hundred thousand dollars could get you a better apartment. It could pay for travel. It could change your life.

You enjoyed your job. You didn’t mind the odd hours or the sex. You had a choice in it all. But would you like to do something else with your life that allowed you a different kind of freedom?

Absolutely.

“What exactly am I being recruited for?”

“Barnes,” Tony said, bowing his head a little. “Shall I leave you to it?”

Barnes nodded, still not meeting your eye. He was reserved, you could tell that by his demeanor alone. But there was something else about him. Something chaotic but pure, bursting at the seams. No word described him yet because you didn’t know him. You didn’t want to assume. So you left him as he currently was: Reserved.

When the door clicked, Barnes shot back quickly to sit on the couch. Several feet away from you.

“Do I smell?”

Barnes’s eyebrows pulled together. “What?”

“I showered last night and put on perfume, so it’s a problem with your nose. Not my pits.”

He shook his head, blinking as if to clear his mind. “Can I speak, please? And call me Bucky.”

Bucky. Even his name was unique.

“Stark is hosting a Christmas Ball on Christmas Eve and I need a date. But I don’t know anyone, so.”

“Ah, so your only solution was to hire a hooker.”

“I thought you were an escort.”

You shrugged, putting your purse down on one of the nearby bar stools. “When they don’t fuck me, I’m an escort.”

Bucky cringed, but quickly tried to hide it. Did this guy have a problem with consensual sex work? Because if he did then this was going to be a problem. You had no problem telling off the Winter Soldier. You didn’t care how red his ledger was.

“I just… I just need a date. I’m not expecting anything from you. But I would greatly appreciate it if you could accompany me.”

So, he did want you. Just in a whole other context. He was probably just too shy to send you the message himself.

“Alright. So is this like a test run? We ask each other questions and you see if you like me or not?”

Again, his face did some awkward contorting motion. “We don’t have to. I know enough.”

He… What?

“Did you guys run a background check on me?”

“Look at where you are.”

“No, no. For sure, I get that. But I’m supposed to be your date. What if people ask where we met, what our favorite foods are, what positions we like to cuddle in?”

“I’m positive no one will care.”

“Bucky Barnes, I am hot. You are hot. We would make a hot couple. People are always curious about hot couples.” You moved to go sit on the opposite couch, speaking simultaneously. “We should at least create a cover story.”

Then he did the weirdest thing.

He stood up the moment your ass hit the cushion, and went to stand near your abandoned purse.

Did he…Was he okay? Was there something else that needed to be addressed? In this business, you’ve seen it all.

People who have overcome trauma and want to explore the things they used to love. People who were battling trauma and wanted to see what they still liked. People who did not touch you, did not want you touching them, and just wanted company. People who fucked like they needed that release, like they were going to die without it.

“Bucky… I can leave now if you’d like me to. I know I come off strong, but I’ve found that usually calms my clients. Especially if they’re first-timers. But if you don’t want me—”

“I want you.”

You paused mid-air, looking at him. He had uncrossed his arms, as if to physically stop you from leaving the room. But you know that idea was exaggerated. It was probably just a reflex.

“Please stay.”

You sat back down, clearing your throat. “Ask me questions. Get comfortable with me. I promise I will do what’s asked of me and respect you and this place. I’m not trying to pressure you, but I could really use that money.”

There. It was said, it was out in the open. No taking it back now. You didn’t want to guilt trip, but you meant what you said. You wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t asked of you and you would make him and the team look good.

Hell, for that amount of money, you would fuck all the Avengers.

But… No. No fucking was going to occur. Just sweet talking, names exchanged, and whatever else this hunk of a man asked of you.

“I…” Bucky looked to the floor, throwing around your words in his mind. His facial expressions were difficult to read. He looked angry, but it could also be frustration. He looked sad, but it could also be boredom.

“Come back tomorrow,” he continued, finally looking up at you. The blue of his eyes glistened, locking you in place. “Come back tomorrow and we can… We can talk about our favorite colors.”

“I said they’d ask what our favorite foods and cuddling positions were.”

Then his chest rumbled, and the most beautiful quiet laugh spilled from his soft-looking lips. His eyes even adopted some of those lovely crinkles. Aging or laughter or otherwise.

You made him laugh.

Gods almighty, let the whole country know that you made him laugh.  

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bucky Barnes.”

“See you tomorrow…?”

You repeat your name for him, enunciating the pronunciation and everything. He repeats it back to you, and you melt a little inside. Like marshmallows in rich, hot chocolate.

~

    It was Hell emailing your clients to tell them you would be unavailable for the rest of the month. Usually, December is your most busy month. But you would now be making more than you do in six months combined.

That is, if Bucky Barnes liked you tomorrow.

He was, perhaps, the most beautiful man you had ever seen. And the fact that he didn’t physically want you? Fuck your life.

But you were a professional and not everything was about sex. Companionship was a big deal during the holidays, and you were going to deliver.

You finished heating your tea just as Home Alone started on TV. You snuggled deep into your blanket, wincing when your fuzzy socks lightly shocked you. You warmed up your hands, glanced at the falling snow outside your window, and sighed as the opening credits began to roll.

It was your job to provide companionship.

It just always felt one-sided.

Because you were, sadly, so incredibly lonely.

~

[changingplumbob]

Honey, I'm home!

TLDR: I'm back. Incoming reblogs. Normal posting resumes 21st at 9am NZDT (GMT+13).

My cat summary, tales of travel woe and random trip tidbits below.

Cat! The cat survived the cattery. Apparently she wasn't eating too much and just stayed in her cage area (I say cage but it was a neat two level set up, she had an individual food bowl, litter tray and cat bed). She's lost a bit of weight so she'll be getting bigger feeds the next few days. She's periodically patrolling the house and hiding in my bed which is fair.

Travel! So our first bus was running late. Trying to make up for it the bus sped over the hill. Imagine sitting sideways on a bus with a large suitcase as the bus quickly drives a winding downhill road. So fun right (sarcasm is heavy here). We made the train but halfway through the trip it stopped and sat for 10 minutes because of an "incident" (yeah I'm curious to). Bus from train station to airport was fine but the baggage check in went down just as we reached it. Then the plane was delayed by about half and hour. Fast forward to this morning. Checking in at the airport early to discover our 8:15am flight was cancelled because the aircraft was damaged overnight. They put us in a van for a nice hour and a half trip along a sometimes empty, sometimes standstill motorway. At the new airport we checked in fine, but what do you know the plane home was delayed. Hour delay this time. Eventually back home, took the airport bus to the train station no problem. What do you know, the train line was having errors and replacement buses were running instead. At the home train station we just gave up and got a taxi to the vets, and then home.

Wedding! It was nice, my cousin and his bride were so damn happy. It was in a place called the Tree Church where the structure is actually made out of shrubs so it's like getting married in a church made out of nature. The sun was shining and she walked down the isle to an instrumental of Taylor Swift - Wildest Dreams. Her dress was gorgeous, their vows were sweet and I was sitting in an aisle seat so got to throw flower petals over them as they walked up the aisle together. Then (remember I'm in summer people) they had an ice cream truck after a champagne toast and they had vegan ice cream!!!

Reception! It was at a vineyard and half the area had trellises with grapes growing above you. There was so much food, and some vegan stuff! Because my cousin has a large family (lots of aunts and uncles) I was the only cousin from our branch. But you know when the band started playing ABBA I had to get up and dance with my aunts because how can you not dance to Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (Man After Midnight)? I sang along, loudest to Love Story obviously.

Tea Ceremony! So my cousin's wife (is she my cousin in law now? IDK), her parents are Chinese and came to NZ before she was born. She had lots of family fly over from China and Canada and they brought her and my cousin these beautiful red robes for a tea ceremony. Basically it allows the married couple to honour their elders by serving them tea. The couple also get money and jewellery from elders. Apparently all the Cantonese speaking relatives told them they hoped to see a grandchild next year, no pressure cousin.

Internet! As some of you probably realised the air bnb had wifi so I was able to keep up on some people's posts. But because I'm an overthinker I wanted to keep my post about going away near the top of my blog. I'm now going to blog some things I wanted to reblog during the 5 days which you may well have already seen but I want to reblog anyway to show support.

Me! This whole thing has been about me but anyway, I am very sleep deprived. I was not sleeping well before we left. The house we were staying was so creeky I barely slept while we were there. So I'm going to do extra rambles because that's what happens when I'm tired. Thank you for a couple of sunflowers today, with my travel chaos I needed them. I keep them in my inbox for low days but appreciate it beyond measure. I'm going to try get to my asks today but sleep may claim me first. The favourite facts are coming I promise! Lastly check out this puzzle that I was fiddling with intermittently for 3 days. I can't believe I eventually solved it!

[buffetlicious]

We used to purchase mooncakes from Singapore Marriott Tang Plaza Hotel many moons ago until we switched over to Raffles Hotel due to their Champagne Truffle Snow-Skin Mooncake. With the latest price increase this year and low discounted offer, our pocket just couldn’t take the hit anymore.  We went back to Wan Hao Chinese Restaurant (万豪轩中餐厅) from the former hotel as they are offering a bigger discount! Immediately went online to order two boxes of Assorted Snowskin Mooncakes (萬豪精致冰皮月饼). Original price is S$88 less 40% corporate discount so we paid S$52.80.

On the day of collection. I was dismayed to find out that the so called Mini Mooncakes (迷你月饼) are real dainty in size that one can pop the whole piece into the mouth! While the packaging was beautifully designed and accompanied with a stylish cooler bag, the boxes containing the mooncakes only had loose plastic cover so it doesn’t keep the contents airtight. Coupled with the tiny size of the mooncakes, the glutinous rice skin was dried out and hard. :(

Yuzu Honey with Peach Passionfruit Praline (蜂蜜柚��蜜桃百香果奶心冰皮月饼) – A fruity and refreshing treat made with fresh Yuzu and pure honey. Featuring a medley of zesty yuzu, passionfruit and peach – the end result is a harmonious symphony of flavours when you bite into the praline.

Blueberry with Maple Cream Cheese Praline (蓝莓枫糖奶油芝士奶心冰皮月饼) – A favourite of my sis with visually stunning with eye-catching hues of blue, this new creation offers a burst of blueberry goodness coupled with a luscious maple cream cheese centre; unveiling a dense and chewy bite.

Irish Cream Latte with Baileys Praline (爱尔兰奶油拿铁百利甜酒奶心冰皮月饼) – Attention all connoisseurs of Baileys! Get boozy with this treat – sweet, milky and notes of vanilla from the Baileys praline paired with velvety smooth latte. Every mouth pack a distinctive taste, making this is my favourite of the four flavours.

White Lotus Seed Paste with Salted Egg Praline (白莲蓉咸蛋奶心冰皮月饼) – Here’s a modern spin to a beloved classic. Imagine sweet and smooth White Lotus Seed Paste accompanied with rich creamy salted egg praline – bringing out the perfect balance of sweet and savoury flavours. This is the closest match to the traditional baked mooncake with salt egg yolk but with a chewy glutinous rice skin.

PS - Kudos to the team at Singapore Marriott Tang Plaza Hotel for their swift action in getting in touch with my sis after she feedbacked to them on the dry and hard snowskin mooncakes. The hotel replaced our two boxes of mooncakes and I am glad to say that the snowskin got back it soft chewy texture.

Selected images from Wan Hao Chinese Restaurant.

[hayleytheewriter]

fic writer meme

the biggest thanks to fic writer queen @vinelark for tagging me :,) <3

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 61!

2. What's your total Ao3 word count? 463,074 so less words than war and peace

3. What fandoms do you write for? for the last two years, Batman (with one unfinished Daredevil matt/foggy fic featuring Spiderman)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

No Hetero (the first Voltron fic I ever wrote, I also remember writing this fic with perfect clarity, like I became conscious of my writer brain when I wrote this)

Tim and Kon v. The World (I actually wrote this in like an hour while procrastinating sleep)

The Failure of Tim Drake (the first Batman fic I ever wrote)

Keith is Broken

Champagne Problems

5. Do you respond to comments? sometimes, when I post a new chapter I'll respond to comments on the previous one. But for every single comment, I get such a comment notification high <3 I've printed out several, too and they live on my bookshelf and provide joy and motivation.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I've never written a sad ending intentionally, but I have so many unfinished fics that end in the middle angst section. Of the fics that I'm pretty sure I'll never finish, I'd say my My Hero Academic fic Date Me (For Justice) which was my first attempt a really long fic and stops on such a mutual pining, getting blackmailed, sad note. Now that I'm writing this, I'm like-- I should finish that.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I love the ending of Sore Loser, and not just because it's a little spicy.

8. Do you get hate on fics? there's such a culture of, "if you don't like it, keep scrolling" so I've never gotten real hate, but I have gotten critique comments that point out places that I didn't get canon right and places where I contradicted the facts of my own story lol those guys are basically my beta readers <3 <3 <3

9. Do you write smut? Yeah, I actually started last year!

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you have written? Yeah, not really for Batman, but I have in the past. The craziest is probably my Wandavision Supernatural crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I think the second fic I ever posted (Spideypool) which couldn't have gotten more than like 1,000 reads, I got a comment that was like, "just so you know someone posted this on Wattpad."

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, honored that someone translated Tim and Kon v. The World into Chinese!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No but I'm so down for real, that sounds fun!

14. What's your all time favorite ship? You'd think by my ao3 stats, it's TimKon-- but I write fanfic for things I wish were different. There's a lot about their canon dynamic I love, and their fanfic is top tier, but for my favorite canon ship I'd probably say like Percabeth (especially with the Disney plus show, they're so back)

15. What is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Probably my Daredevil Matt/Foggy High School au. I'm just not that into Daredevil anymore. I have so many Batman WIPs, but when I think of them I'm like, one day I'll finish it, baby!

16. What are your writing strengths? I love how I write banter. I also like to think that I give the supporting cast or characters who might be reduced to comic relief their own interior life and mini arcs-- but that might be more aspirational than actually in my writing as of now lol. I think I also write friend groups really well!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? structure, and related to that pacing. Also, the way I shy away from editing even though writing is rewriting or whatever that saying is. I'd say there's like five fics of mine that I've genuinely edited, but I'm working on it. I've been reading such a great book about writing lately called A Swim in the Pond in the Rain by George Saunders, and I highly recommend it.

18. Thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics? I think the only time I've done that was in one of my Supernatural fics. I wrote Eileen, who's deaf. Originally, I put all her dialogue in italics to signify it was being signed. But I got such a kind and helpful comment on that fic being like it's weird and frowned upon to have her ASL lines formatted so differently, so I changed it! I think if I ever did another language again, I would research it more thoroughly first.

19. First fandom you wrote for? it was on fanfic.net and it was Percy Jackson, he and Annabeth were middle aged (which I obviously had great insight into at 15) and the main character was their daughter. Although as a child, I would write my own episodes of my favorite tv shows which was way before I knew what a screenwriter or fanfiction was. I love that one of my oldest instincts is to create the shit I wish I was seeing.

20. Favorite fic you have written? Hm, of my completed fics, I'd say a tie between To All The Vigilantes I've Loved Before and Capture the Flag (to the Death). I like the first one because it's the longest romance I've finished (at 27k) and there are certain scenes I really love. The capture the flag one I like because it feels the most like a real miniseries DC would publish (out of everything I've written) and I'm really proud of the ways I hid each of their flags and all the betrayals.

I'm tagging @thief-of-eggs <3 and anyone else who wants to do this! ~ please tag me in your post because I'm always looking for and loving writer mutuals <3

[duskwoodgirl4life]

Jake: MC I told you I'd come back

MC's POV

It's been 2 years since I last heard from Jake I look at the last message we had together

Jake: I love you MC

MC: I love you to Jake

We promised each other we would see each other after Hannah was safe, everything went so wrong. The FBI turned up looking for him and then there was Richy he set fire to the mine. A massive explosion erupted from the mine. Did Jake get out in time? Have I lost the love of my life? It's been 2 years since Hannah had found she was now getting her life back together. The judge didn't even give her jail time what the fuck was that about she's the one that's caused all this mess. It's her fault that I've lost Jake. She's the reason he went into that goddamn mine in the first place.

I've not spoken much to the group since Hannah was found, Jessy isn't the same bubbly all smiles woman she used to be, it broke her heart when Richy told her what happened. Thomas is in his own world now Hannah is back he spends his days devoting on her. Just the thought makes me feel sick. Dan still sends me the odd message letting me know how Jessy is doing. He's been there for her since everything happened. He tells me she is getting better everyday. It makes me smile a little to know she's getting better. Lilly keeps in contact since that whole video. She's been making an extra effort to see how I'm doing. Cleo hasn't spoken much. She's been super busy with her new cake shop. I hear it's doing really well.

It's been 2 years since I talked to Jake. Looking at the last message he sent sends tears running down my face.

Jake: I love you MC

MC: i love you to Jake

I moved to duskwood for him so I could be closer to him, I thought we would get to spend the rest of our lives together. Now I don't even know if he's alive, been caught by the FBI. Hell I don't even know if he's managed to clear his name and he just can't tell me yet. I start to feel the anger build up inside me. I try holding back the tears from coming out but it's no use. I completely broke down. I feel myself falling apart at the seems I curl up in a ball on my bed. My eyes start to feel heavy and I find myself drifting off into a dream world.

MCs dream:

I wake up to the smell of coffee and pancakes cooking, a smile forms across my face, I get up and walk down the stairs to find Jake in the kitchen cooking breakfast. A warm feeling spread across my body. I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his waist. His scent is so intoxicating he spins me round our eyes to meet each other.

Jake: good morning beautiful

MC: morning my handsome hacker, breakfast smells so good

Jake: it's all ready, go sit down and I'll bring it over

I grab a cup of coffee as I go to sit down. My eyes travel back over to Jake thebway he moves everything about him is perfect. I love him so much. We sit down together and eat out food laughing and joking as we eat. After breakfast I help clear away the plates and wash up.

Jake: MC can you turn round

MC: What is it Jake?

I turn round and find Jake down on one knee holding out a small red box with the most beautiful ring.

Jake: Will you marry me MC?

MC: yes, yes I'll marry you Jake

Jake got up and put the ring on my finger. It was a perfect fit, I felt tears rolling down my face. They weren't sad tears, they were happy tears. I wrapped my arms around Jake and kissed him deep. We had to break the kiss so we could catch our breath. I looked deep into his eyes. I could see so much love in his eyes.

We decided to have a little celebration just the two of us, Jake got to get a bottle of champagne that he hid. I couldn't help but smile. Later that night we order Chinese and we have ourselves a romantic dinner just the two of us.

After months and months of planning the big day has arrived, I start to walk down the aisle. I see Jake standing there. I can't help the smile on my face as I get closer Jake starts to fade away. I tried running to save him but he disappeared out of nowhere. I hear a buzzing noise.

I get brought out of my dream tears running down my face once again, I look over and see it's my phone buzzing. I don't see the number clearly so I decline the call. I pull myself up off the bed and go downstairs. My phone starts to ring again. I don't bother looking and carry on making coffee out of nowhere there is a knock at the door.

I think about just ignoring it but whoever it is keeps knocking, I go to open the door I fall to the floor when I see who it is I can't control the tears. I forced myself to get up looking at the person in front of me. Is this just another dream? Is he really here?

Jake: I told you I'd come back for you

MC: Jake, I've missed you so much

Jake: I've missed you yo MC, I am so sorry I didn't contact you I had made a deal with the FBI and….

MC cut Jake off and kissed him deep both wrapping their arms around each other

MC: the only thing that matters is your back

Jake: I love you MC

MC: I love you to Jake