#having those two diagnoses be confirmed is just amazing

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

Exciting good news! Gods know I fucking need it right now.

I'm starting ADHD meds this week!!!!!

So, I had made the appointment for a referral, but my PCP cancelled the appointment after I confirmed it. This is the third time she's cancelled, so I opted to see someone else in the clinic today. The new doctor? Oh, I fucking love her.

I went in for two reasons. The first is to get the paperwork verifying I need immunotherapy aka allergy shots. Otherwise I'll be paying around $2k for a year of these. The second reason was to get a referral to a clinic that will treat and medicate my ADHD. She had me fill out a questionnaire, and then observed me while I was talking.

"If you hadn't been diagnosed with ADHD yet, I would diagnose you right now." She has experience treating adults with ADHD and can prescribe the medication.

She was also very angry when I told her that the last time the referral went through, the only clinic that picked it up doesn't accept Medicare or Medicaid. Do you know who most needs the care? People who use those as insurance. "We offer a sliding scale." To which I responded to the clinic with "you can slide that scale up your ass." That made the woman on the phone laugh because apparently no one has said that before. That was six months or so ago.

Anyway...

The doctor went over different meds and options. We determined I don't want anything that goes for 12+ hours. I have severe insomnia (and she supports my using an edible every night for pain management and so I can sleep) and don't wanna be alert longer than necessary. Basically, no overlap. I'm home 24/7, so something that will kick in fairly fast but wear off by dinnertime. That gives me plenty of time to do house stuff, sewing/quilting, yard stuff, and time to wind down in the evening.

She also fully supports my semi-self diagnosis of autism. My therapist diagnosed me with both, and this doctor also said I'm very much definitely autistic. I explained why I won't go through the official evaluation, and she 100% agrees it's in my self-interest to not have it made official. For the unaware: my parents will use that as a way to gain conservatorship of me should something happen to my husband. It will basically be what happened to Britney Spears. I would be dead in less than a year.

I'm starting at a low dosage, 10mg, to see how it affects me, and I'll remain at that dosage for at least two weeks. Then, if it's too low or ineffective, or even if I simply don't like it, we can make adjustments.

Oh, and the doctor thought my metaphor of "my brain is a bag of angry ferrets" was hilarious and 100% accurate.

Tomorrow, I'll be picking up my drugs, and day after, I'm getting up at 7AM and taking a dose. Let's see what it's like to be able to do housecleaning and not get distracted nor paralyzed on the couch because my brain says NOPE.

I'm so excited!

Also, neither she nor the nurse believes I'm 40 years old. They asked me to write down the skincare stuff I use because my skin "looks amazing." Oh, and the doctor pointed out that ADHD referral was put as a note for the appointment, which is why they blocked 45 minutes rather than the 15-20 minutes, because they assume the patient will be, um, like me. Chatty, animated, bouncing between topics, constant interrupting, that sort of thing. I did make both of them laugh a lot, but Bubby and friends have informed me that's very likely my autism making it impossible for me to read people...so I just talk. I'm just talking. The fact I'm funny is a side effect others can enjoy. Ask damn near anyone who has spent time with me in person when I let myself loose. Otherwise, I'm silent and doing my very fucking best to pay attention.

[danmoscatiello]

Patrick Moscatiello: A Legacy of Hope and Advocacy, told by his brother Dan Moscatiello

"Take charge of your health, be your own advocate—it could save your life." This was the mantra Patrick Moscatiello lived by, which shaped his remarkable journey through life and multiple life-threatening cancer diagnoses. Diagnosed with jawbone osteosarcoma at just 24, Patrick faced a daunting prognosis that gave him a 50-50 chance of survival; remarkably, he beat it. At the age of 33, genetic testing revealed a disorder—a genetic mutation of the P53 gene called Li-Fraumeni Syndrome (LFS)—which would paradoxically change his life for the better. His spirit was strengthened, and he became a better version of himself, despite having every reason to falter.

Patrick consistently maintained the right mindset and energy to overcome every obstacle in his life.  He was that guy that you wanted to talk to, he inspired everyone.  His dedication to advocating for genetic awareness and proactive health measures significantly benefited thousands in the LFS community through his close work with the LFS Association. At age 41, he was diagnosed with a medulloblastoma brain tumor that was removed in July 2020, diagnosed with drop metastasis discovered during Christmas of 2021, and ultimately led to leptomeningeal disease April 2022; he tragically passed away on June 5, 2022. During those two years, we lived through our worst experiences alongside him.

Patrick transformed not only his own fate but also influenced the outlook of those around him on the importance of being your own health advocate. His story is not just about the battles he fought; it's a call to action, inspiring all of us to take charge of our health and understand the power of our choices. Learn from him: despite passing at 41, Patrick led an impactful life with his amazing partner, Christina Moscatiello, and a loving family.  He was the last living male in the Moscatiello family to carry the genetic disorder of LFS, and he was determined to ensure it ended with him.  

How It All Started: A Game-Changing Moment

Nobody ever thinks a pool volleyball game will ever change your life but that's exactly what Patrick would experience. In a fleeting moment filled with laughter and light-hearted competition, a slip on the wet deck altered the course of his life forever. He jumped out of the pool to retrieve the ball, but as he ran, his feet lost grip on the wet concrete surface. Patrick slipped and fell, landing chin-first on the concrete—a minor accident that unbeknownst to anyone, would have major consequences. At first glance, the injury seemed trivial but the impact had a far deeper effect than anyone could initially see. I visited him just a few days later, and he showed me a lump bulging from his bottom gums and teeth: a large, abnormal mass had formed at the bottom of his jaw only observed when opening his mouth. Concern was evident in his eyes—something was wrong, though neither of us could have imagined the gravity of it at that moment nor how to handle it. 

We, naive and uninformed, tried to downplay the severity, making a dentist appointment hoping it was nothing more to worry about. Yet, deep down, there was a scary sense of something seriously wrong. It was during a follow-up visit with an orthopedic surgeon that our fears were confirmed. The surgeon took one look and his attention and concern scared Patrick into action, he performed a biopsy, and the results were as dire as they come: it was cancer.

The diagnosis was not just a shock; it was the nightmares that echoed through our family history. Patrick was faced with osteosarcoma—the same malignant force that had claimed our uncle Patrick at a young age. Suddenly, the chilling pattern of our family's battles with cancer was impossible to ignore. Patrick's life was upended in an instant; he left his home, his belongings, and his old life behind to fight this new battle home with his family. He underwent treatments at Fox Chase, where he was given a stark prognosis—a 50/50 chance to survive and a 24 month ordeal.  Patrick not only survived but emerged from his ordeal fundamentally transformed, living his subsequent years as a better version of himself. The entire experience, while deeply traumatizing and devastating, served as a profound turning point not just for him but for our entire family.  We would never be the same, we found a way to be better because of Patrick transforming behavior through the most challenging times.

The “Curse” of Cancer and the Clarity of Genetic Testing

Growing up, the shadow of cancer loomed over our family, a haunting legacy that deeply affected my father and his 2 remaining brothers. He endured the heartbreak of losing his older sister, Jane, to brain cancer at just six years old, and his younger brother, Patrick (our uncle), to bone cancer, this started at a young age and he would pass at fifteen. His mother succumbed to breast cancer at the age of 55, just after learning her hope that my father would have a daughter, she passed after Lisa’s birth. These losses lacked any medical understanding and were simply coined a “curse” by an older generation without the medical resources that exist today.  Certainly my fathers experiences were traumatic and with so much unknown left fear of reliving such loss in the next generation. My father was forever changed by these tragedies, carrying a burden of grief that would resurface with his own son's cancer.

This was finally understood when Patrick, after his battle with jawbone cancer in 2005 that nearly claimed his life, underwent genetic testing nine years later. The results confirmed Li-Fraumeni Syndrome (LFS), a rare genetic condition that predisposed him to cancer, echoing the fears and struggles that had “cursed” our family. The revelation forced my father to relive his worst nightmares, his childhood trauma revisited upon his second son, aging him beyond his years in a way words can hardly describe. My mother, equally pained yet unwavering, bolstered Patrick’s bravery with her love and support.  Patrick would always credit our mother for allowing him to be brave.  

Patrick rejected this idea that we were “cursed”.  He responded to any mention of a “curse”, often saying, “How can I be cursed when I am so loved?” That was Patrick’s energy and mindset and the euphoria he brought into every room that profoundly influenced everyone around him. This shift in perspective ultimately transformed our approach to healthcare and deepened our understanding of our family’s past, guiding us toward a future where we would not look at any diagnosis in despair but love your fate and who you are.  He can find something good in the worst of it and he never seemed to disappoint in that. Patrick changed the entire Moscatiello family mindset and transformed our despair into proactive action.

Advocate for Change

Now educated and understanding the underlying risk with his genetic disorder, he took this information and changed the narrative in our family.  We would have a new perspective on his condition, be proactive, get ahead of your health as proactive care can reduce your risk.  Everyone one previously in the dark about our history was now empowered to know if they stand a similar fate. Patrick became an advocate for genetic testing. He educated others about its importance, breaking down the barriers of fear and uncertainty that often surround such discussions. Patrick’s efforts were not just about prevention but empowerment—encouraging individuals and families to take proactive steps in their healthcare.  If you are reading this and genetic testing was suggested to you, go get it done! Anyone who has a loss from cancer, this story is more relevant to you than you think. 

Enduring Impact

In the final years of his life, Patrick faced one of the worst diagnoses with incredible courage and dignity. He taught us how to live and how to die.  We could see that Patrick lived longer in 41 years than most people that live more than 80 years.  He spoke openly about what is most important in life, influencing countless lives through his incredible talent to positively influence how one thought about a particular subject, helping bring clarity to what is important and what is not. His words, filled with humor and hope, resonated deeply with those who heard them, leaving a lasting impression that would outlive his physical presence.  We love him forever. The impact of Patrick’s presence and spirit are difficult to capture in words. A passage from his journal beautifully illustrates the essence of his character: 'To spend each day as if it were my last, without frenzy, laziness, or any pretending. To love life, even in darkness and to influence others to do the same.' Patrick had a unique way of viewing life’s challenges. While many might despair under the weight of a figurative piano hanging overhead, asking 'Why me?', Patrick’s perception was, 'Why not me?'. He embraced the possibility of change, understanding that this freedom to transform was key to becoming the better version of himself. He changed the idea of a perceived 'curse' into a 'gift.' His outlook never wavered; he learned to find joy in every circumstance, which in turn enriched his life immensely. This shift redefined his—and consequently our—understanding of true wealth and power. No longer measured in dollars and cents, but in health and happiness. Patrick’s message to us all is clear: Choose happiness, be grateful, embrace your destiny, and love who you are. Every situation holds a some goodness; it only requires the right mindset to see it. Such was the profound energy Patrick projected to everyone around him.

A Brother’s Reflection

Patrick's journey was more than a series of cancer battles; it was a profound way he viewed life, love, and his human spirit. His legacy is not marked by his disease but by the lives he touched and the positive changes he inspired. As we remember Patrick, we celebrate not just his life but the spirit that he nurtured in all of us.  I feel his energy today, we never forget him, we will never get over him, he deserves that. I have learned, and others close to him, that we will never get over losing him.  We are learning that it's ok to carry the pain of his loss, it's a way to thank him for everything he has done for us. I am so lucky to have a brother like Patrick. For anyone needing guidance, remember Patrick's approach: Control your perceptions, direct your actions wisely, and accept what's beyond your control. These principles alone can profoundly shape your life. 

[rosethornewrites]

I’m slowly learning what has to be done to navigate Medicaid. You have to doctor shop, and know what you’re looking for in an available PCP.

But that’s just step 1. You have to navigate the clunky and outdated index of doctors, research them, call the ones you would prefer to make sure they actually do take your Medicaid and are they taking new patients.

Sometimes you have to settle. In my case, because there wasn’t energy, the nurse practitioner auto-assigned to me. Unfortunately it assigned me one who might as well have fallen off the face of the planet right after my intake appointment that at least got my prescriptions going. And the backup telehealth PA for the reading of the blood tests was appalled at how noncomprehensive they were. As in a waste of time.

So I have found a PA who is available via telehealth affiliated with the Aunt Martha’s my assigned nurse practitioner PCP (who no longer has any office hours at all) is out of, who has now basically taken over my prescriptions and has given me a referral immediately upon request, same day as contacted through the online portal, likely out of luck as she was probably working telehealth one day a week or so for Aunt Martha’s. She is not available to be my official PCP, but she’s doing me a solid.

I finally had the cognitive energy a little while back to research available PCPs and luck upon one that sounds amazing. But the first available is October. So I grabbed the appointment, but today I discovered the PA is willing to help me.

When I first got on Medicaid I spent a month assigned to an MD in a different Medicaid provider company because of some sort of error and SHE made sure I got my first two specialists lined up with referrals before she couldn’t be my doctor anymore. So much LUCK. Before I got on Medicaid I paid my childhood doctor’s visit to prescribe my medications, and he apparently decided I needed different dosages or certain meds no longer prescribed, but at least I got some of them.

I have realized that I had to start thinking about how to get help for my constant fatigue, and I’ve slowly done it for the issues I know I have—treatment for my HS (dermatologist) and fibromyalgia (rheumatologist), both of which were diagnosed before I got Medicaid after I finally found what I thought it was and insisted I get tested and made my doctor order the tests that would confirm. Though for the dermatologist I had to luck upon the best gynecologist I’ve ever had, who immediately referred me to a specialist, as when I previously told my doctor (through insurance I paid for) I thought I had HS, she dismissed it and told me to lose weight.

Both of these diagnoses spawned secondary diagnoses once I visited experts, one of which happened after the rheumatologist told me to get a biopsy to rule out an autoimmune condition and it discovered something totally different because of course it did. This was never going to be anything simple, was it?

Both of those required that I go into the Medicaid insurance online system to find doctors within a 100 mile radius of where I live. The system only gives you names/clinics and very few details, so you have to then search each name online and there’s usually more detail somewhere, even if it’s a confirmation to never go to that doctor.

I did that first with a dermatologist, which the doctor I had at the time told me to find myself and let her know where to fax the referral, and the closest I found is an hour away driving, which I am fortunate to have as a transportation option. Then the rheumatologist. Now the new PCP is lined up.

And so I’m continuing to research in the meantime, but the PA just was willing to refer me for an age-recommended mammogram. And I’ve just asked her to refer me to another specialist.

My mom has repeatedly compared my energy level now to hers when her doctor diagnosed her as having adrenal deficiency. And I did some research, found out what kind of test I need and what doctor would specialize in that sort of test (endocrinologist), and asked if I could get that at Aunt Martha’s and could she order it, or do I need a referral to an endocrinologist. If it’s the latter, I’ll research those next.

I’m just so tired. I only learned I would have to be the one to make sure my medical needs were taken care of, and then also luck into it like I hopefully have. Because my GP when I was able-bodied just didn’t think to recommend tests when I mentioned feeling more exhausted than usual and failed me as my doctor, and it was ended in burnout.

And I’m lucky that I have able and willing family to live with, and since mom is old and sick and I’m sick we manage to prop each other up some, though the financial burden has been on her.

I’m so relieved to have also lucked into a few good doctors enough that I might get somewhere.

And I lucked into finding a psych clinic for med management because someone recommended them, or I’d also be struggling there, too.

[uh-velkommen]

Living it up! Life in Sweden:

I'm going on week four in Sweden and people keep asking me if I've done anything exciting. They want to know if I'm living it up, meeting cool people, finding cool places, etc. But I honestly have barely left my room. I keep thinking about what they're actually asking and what they actually want to hear from me though. If they ask, how's Sweden? They want to hear answers like, "It's amazing/beautiful. I've been partying every night, there's so many cool people, the food is amazing!" They want answers that make them feel like they're here beside me. They want to feel like my leaving was worth it. And then I get stuck in a place where if I respond honestly, they'll be disappointed or question what the point of me coming here even was. I can't tell them that I haven't left my room and that I avoid talking to or hanging out with my flat mates/other swedes.

So I tell them it's been uneventful or I make up an excuse like, well school's just barely starting so things are going slow. But that's a total lie. Things have been happening and I am having a good time. I'm having a good time NOT doing those things. I enjoy spending time in my room. I am content with how I've been spending my time here. I have two years to do those crazy things and I have no money at the moment to get started on them anyway. I'm taking things slow so that I don't burn out. I've already done all that stuff in my undergrad and I'm trying to just focus on my studies now. Just being in another country is exciting enough for me. Not having to look over my shoulder for fear of who I might run into while outside feels like a massive relief. Watching the sun set in this beautiful orange and purple light I've never seen before while I read my course literature is my version of living it up. I'm not ready to talk to people and make friends because I know a week from now I'll never see those people again. And as a matter of fact, it is still the beginning of the school year and I still have so much government related things to do so when I finish with migration paper work and get settled in my classes and confirm that my tuition has been paid, then I can go crazy.

And this is an example of what makes me think I might be on the spectrum(lol). I don't know if I've shared this on here yet but in the past year I've been seriously looking into the possibility of me being Autistic and while it does seem likely, I still say this half jokingly because I don't want to incorrectly self-diagnose. But conversations like the one above with friends are sooo annoying to me but I get stuck on the thought of, "they don't want to know this, they actually want to hear you talk about this." It's why I avoid common pleasantries. For some reason I get all worked up about how to respond to simple things like, "Hey. how's it going. How are you?" Well they don't want to hear that you've been sitting in your room, never speaking to anyone and rewatching Heartstopper over and over again, just say you're good and keep it moving. "Oh, I-I uhm you know I'm chillin [pause hoping the conversation will end there] ... [forcibly] How are you?" I can not tell you how many times I've horribly started off job interviews because of that step alone.

So anyway, moral of the story: I am living it up in Sweden. No, I haven't done anything.

[kaustic]

.

[shijiujun]

Time for some BL/Danmei novel recs! 

You guys have probably (maybe) seen my novels list here - [X] - but it’s more for my own tracking than anything else, so here’s a brief list (I’ll probably do full ones of the ones I really love in another post, probably on Minmo).

The ones elaborated on below with the asterisks are the novels I’ve actually finished reading.

*since everyone more or less knows MXTX’s works - TGCF, MDZS and SVSSS, I’ll skip those!

1. SCI 迷案集 | SCI Mystery Series by 耳雅*

Summary: Bai Yutang and Zhan Zhao are childhood friends and rivals that end up working together under the newly established SCI unit as co-leads, with Bai Yutang providing the brawn as Captain and Zhan Zhao the brains as Vice Captain and the team’s resident genius psychologist. They solve cases together and slowly unravel a wider conspiracy that involves their parents’ generation and beyond. At the same time they also realize that they’re meant for each other!

Other CPs: Bai Jintang (Bai Yutang’s older brother) & the medical examiner, Gongsun Ce, Bai Chi (Bai Yutang’s younger cousin) & magician Zhao Zhen, and at least three other gay pairings, one of which is considered another main couple of sorts from Vol. 2 onwards

Status: Incomplete (Began in 2010, author is still going on strong with one chapter every one or two months, we’re halfway through Vol. 5 right now and it’s been 10 years ;-; Love that the author is going on strong!! Everyone on JJWXC are like “please author it’s okay if you go slow as long as you keep going we’re here for you” and jfc I understand the fear of this not completing, also when will Vol. 5 be completed and printed?!! I need to complete the collection)

Translations: Unfortunately, only the first volume has been translated well so far on novel updates. The one on Wattpad seems to have caught up, but I would not recommend that one.

Drama/Live-Action: Season 1 was filmed and released in 2018 under the same name with slightly changed names for the characters. Season 2 was supposed to start filming this month but... oh well. First season basically covered Vol. 1 novel from start to end.

*I love this one only because it was my very first danmei and so it’ll forever have a special place in my heart, and also because it’s still ongoing so ya know, I relive how much I love this every month

2. 成化十四年 | Cheng Hua’s Fourteenth Year (The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty) by 梦溪石*

Summary: Tang Fan, a prefectural judge, and Sui Zhou, a high ranking officer in the Embroidered Uniform Guards, meet while trying to solve a murder case. Both of them end up partnering very well together, Sui Zhou ends up inviting Tang Fan to live with him, and the rest is history. Through their days living together and solving cases + a larger conspiracy involving the royal palace, they fall in love. Adding to this mix is also Wang Zhi, a powerful, young eunuch who befriends the pair, and the three of them basically help the crown prince to overcome challenges and his enemies to become the next Emperor

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: Ongoing on several websites. I’m only translating relationship highlights, but here’s an introduction post I did for it, if you guys would like somewhere to start without getting too invested - [X]

Drama/Live-Action: The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty was released earlier this year, directed by Jackie Chan and starring Darren Chen and Paul Fu, but cases are a little different and there are new characters in the show that weren’t from the novel etc.

3. 杀破狼 | Shapolang by Priest*

Summary: Set in a steampunk universe where flying boats named ‘kites’ and flying armour exist. Young teenager Chang Geng lives with his mother and stepfather - the former abuses him and the latter neglects him, and the only person that he cares about (and cares about him) is Shen Shiliu, his (very young) godfather. He realizes his identity as a royal prince when the Man tribe invades his city and Shen Shiliu, whose real name is Gu Yun, turns out to be an army general whose duty was to protect Chang Geng in secret (among other things). 

Chang Geng has been critically poisoned by his mother (who’s not actually his birth mother, if I recall she’s an aunt) which leads to him getting terrible dreams frequently with the end result of him being driven into insanity, while Gu Yun is half blind, half deaf due to poisoning + injury when he was much younger, and he can only regain his hearing and sight fully when he takes a medicine that is slowly losing its effectiveness with every dosage he has.

The both of them navigate learning about each other again, falling in love a few years later when Chang Geng is all grown up and also unravel conspiracies and fight bad guys (both external threats and internal as in the current Emperor and other parties) XD

*Note: The age old debate is that Gu Yun ‘preyed’ on and also ‘groomed’ Chang Geng, but I disagree and stand by the fact that Gu Yun was 90% of the time not around while Chang Geng grew from a teenager to a young adult as he was fighting wars elsewhere, while Chang Geng refused to stay at the Gu manor and insisted on running around, travelling on his own and seeing the world for a few years before they met again. And it was Chang Geng who’d always loved Gu Yun and devoted himself to caring about him, making advances on him etc. when he became an adult

Other CPs: Shen Yi (Gu Yun’s second-in-command) & Chen Qingxu (a renowned physician who ends up healing both Chang Geng and Gu Yun of their ailments) 

Status: Complete!

Translations: Fully translated the last I heard, it’s up there in the list of holy grail BL/danmei novels, so I’m sure it’s done hahaha.

Drama/Live-Action: Filming in progress!

*This is up there in the hall of fame for danmei novels for more than just the amazing content and writing - It’s also famous for being one of the most complex novels ever. I don’t know how the translations team did it because DAMN it was complex and I read all my novels in Chinese without much issues but I was honestly STRUGGLING WITH this one and I went through some existential crisis while reading because I was like ‘did I ever learn Chinese, am I even Chinese’ XD

4. 默读 | Silent Reading by Priest*

Summary: Luo Wenzhou, a police captain, and his team including best friend and partner Tao Ran, face a few challenging cases that end up being small parts of a larger conspiracy, and end up having to consult with Fei Du, a flamboyant, charming and flirty, young and rich CEO, who Luo Wenzhou describes as someone who is an expert at ‘crimes’. Not deduction, not solving crimes, but someone who is familiar with how the murderer or culprits would commit crimes. Both Luo Wenzhou and Tao Ran know Fei Du well, because they first met when Fei Du was in high school, when he called the police because his mother had hanged herself in the house, and since then Tao Ran and Luo Wenzhou look out for him, spending holidays with him, giving him presents here and there. Luo Wenzhou and Fei Du overcome their misunderstandings of each other and fall in love while solving all the cases and the larger conspiracy behind it.

Other CPs: Tao Ran and someone he knew first from his school days or was a neighbour when he was younger, I can’t remember, but they meet again at a blind date and end up living in the same building on different floors XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: Complete!! There’s a huge post floating around on Tumblr with all the links (I can’t find it right now) and on Twitter you can also find the collated, epub versions etc.

Drama/Live-Action: Rights for a live-action was signed, no casting confirmation or set dates yet

5. 犯罪心理 | Criminal Psychology by 长洱*

Summary: Police captain Xing Conglian drags psychologist Lin Chen out of seclusion/hiding to solve a case that is indirectly tied to him. Lin Chen was involved in a case a few years ago that led to four deaths - these four victims were the sons/daughters of four of the five huge old-money (super rich) families in the country and these family members sought to make Lin Chen’s life very difficult for him afterwards by making him lose all the jobs he can find, by surveilling his every move and ensuring that he’s not happy etc. Because of that, he backed out of the police force as well and quietly lived as a school dorm administrator, which is where Xing Conglian finds him a few years later. Lin Chen fakes his death after the first case (not deliberately but kind of a by-the-way thing), but as fate would have it, he ends up meeting Xing Conglian on another case, and he decides that he’ll move in with him and also involve himself again, consequences be damned, and they fall in love!

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: I think it’s not complete yet.

Drama/Live-Action: None that I know of.

6. 死亡万花筒 | Kaleidoscope of Death by 西子绪* (MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE)

Summary: Supernatural setting where people who are about to die get a second chance to live. These individuals are either in the midst of a dangerous situation (for e.g. a shootout or a deadly mugging incident) or are about to get into accidents (for e.g. an entire bus going off a bridge or a chandelier dropping from above and crushing the person underneath) or are ill (recently diagnosed with cancer or are terminally ill with a condition for e.g.) - The list is endless, and in the situation between life and death, 12 doors will appear before them. 

It is said that once these individuals finish all 12 doors, they will truly get a second chance at life and survive whatever cause of death they were imminently facing. 

Each door represents a creepy, supernatural mystery, and Lin Qiushi finds himself in a strange place after opening a door when he was trying to enter his apartment one day. He meets Ruan Baijie, a beautiful, tall woman who he happens to meet, and they realize that in this strange world, he and other individuals who came through the door have to complete a given task, find a key and an exit door, and make it out alive. The others in the team (some of which have already gone through several doors) explain to Lin Qiushi, who is a first-timer, what the doors are about. 

The catch is, if they die inside the door, in the real world, they’ll die immediately, by accident, throwing themselves off a building, or just throwing up blood until they die (just to name a few)

On the first night, however, three people are slaughtered and eaten by a long-haired ghost/creature. The good news is, Ruan Baijie isn’t all that she seems to be (for one, she’s not exactly a woman) and she takes a liking to Lin Qiushi immediately.

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: I think it’s not complete yet!

Drama/Live-Action: None that I know of, but honestly, this novel would be fricking EPIC as a live-action, and really creepy, but this is my all-time favourite novel, I kid you not!!!!

*I’m definitely doing a longer and more detailed to-read for KOD on my translation account, gosh you guys have no idea how much I love this.

7. 当年万里觅封侯 | Those Years in Quest of Honor Mine by 漫漫何其多

Summary: Yu She and Gu Wan were close friends for a short period of time when they were younger, but unfortunately their identities and positions meant that they were opponents. Yu She’s family was for the Second Prince and Gu Wan was taken in by the Sixth Prince’s family, but in the end it was the Second Prince who ended up getting to the throne, while the Sixth Prince was accused of treason and died somewhere far away at war after being captured. Gu Wan’s only wish was to keep the Fifth Prince’s children - Xuan Rui and a pair of twins, Xuan Yu and Xuan Congxin safe, and so he moves them to another province and asks the Emperor (the Second Prince) to demote Xuan Rui’s status to prove that they are no threat to the Emperor, if only to stay alive for another day.

However, their days of hardship have only just begun, and Gu Wan decides to namedrop Yu She, whose family is so powerful now, and claims that Yu She loves him and that he was wooing Gu Wan back in the days they knew each other so that officials and others would treat the children under his care better. A few years pass and Yu She doesn’t expose Gu Wan. Gu Wan thinks they can go on like this forever, until the Emperor asks Xuan Rui and the twins to head back to the palace for a visit.

Gu Wan meets Yu She again, but the boy he knew, who was gentle, a stickler for rules and a proper, well-mannered person, has changed almost completely. Cue palace conspiracies again, brothers fighting for the throne, scheming consorts etc. XD 

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: I think it’s not complete yet but I’m not super sure on this

Drama/Live-Action: None that I know of!

*They came out with a new reprint edition three days ago and it’s gorgeous! And comes with amazing freebies, and I am a sucker and read it on the day of the printed novel release because I saw the art and loved it, wanted to see if the story was any good, and damn after chapter 2 I WAS GONE and then I checked out two copies from different stores for the two different sets of freebies 

--

A list of those I haven’t read but I see are highly raved about:

1. 二哈和他的白猫师尊 | The Husky & His White Cat Shizun by Meatbun

- I’ve already been spoiled and I know what goes on mostly, and there are a lot of warnings for a reason, but I’m still a fan, and let’s not get into the debate on the content, I know I have to read this but the angst level is apparently ridiculous, so I need like some mental preparation before I sit down for it.

2. 千秋 | A Thousand Autumns by 梦溪石

3. 烈火浇愁 | Lie Huo Jiao Chou by Priest

4. 将进酒 | Qiang Jing Jiu by 唐酒卿

- A really good group of translators picked this up initially on Twitter, but then assholes were complaining that they were being too slow and insisting that machine translation (MTL) did an equally good and faster job, so the OG dropped it, and then another nice team picked it up, but MTL team is still being an asshole XD I’ve heard really good things about this one, it’s apparently quite complex as well, I’d liken it to Shapolang level? But it might be even more complex (with a lot of politics and stuff), so much so that apparently the printed novel comes with a relationship/character chart so readers are at any point in time clear on the characters which is like amazing XD

[northernxstories]

⭐️ Happy New Year!!! ⭐️

Hello hello hello all ... Happy New Year!! 

As part of my 2022 Resolutions, I have decided to reclaim my tumblr blog, at least until this hellsite dies completely (with the latest changes, it feels like it continues to nudge closer all the time). 

I have missed rping with my amazing online crew all but I have been doing a little writing. Mostly exploring writing some fanfic and other writing just for fun. I also relatively recently joined a fun discord rpg, which has really helped keep the muse flowing over these difficult few months. They are also generous when I disappear for days, which happens more than I’d like of late. I’m going to put, under the cut, a brief synopsis as to what exactly has been going on for those who wish to know. Feel free to ignore or just not read.

So with the reclaim, I’m going to post inspiration images, do a little writing, including some of my own thoughts/critical analysis on things I’ve written, link up anything I put on A03, and of course do a little rping with those of you who are generous enough to still wish to write with me. I need to find my joy again in 2022 and writing and connecting with people who love reading/writing/rping is an important part of that joy.  

I am going to keep the talk about the situation (under readmore) to a bare minimum so this remains my forum for escape, which is something I need and treasure at this moment.

Love to you all. May all your 2022 resolutions come true or be replaced with things that are even better!

Readmore - Do not read if family illness is a trigger for you.

Triggering content below. Tread lightly.

In the mid-July, 2021, my mother was diagnosed with a brain tumour. One week after it was diagnosed, she was in the hospital for surgery to remove as much of it as they could. After the surgery it was confirmed it was cancer, originating in the brain (ie the tumour wasn’t secondary to cancer anywhere else in her body). There were some signs ahead of time but honestly, it was a huge shock as we were attributing the issues she was experiencing with her memory and indecisiveness to having to provide care for her mother with progressive dementia. 

They couldn’t get it all in the surgery and after she had recovered, she started radiation and chemo. I packed up my office and drove to the west coast to provide assistance. I worked part time and helped care for my mother the rest of the time. I was there for about 7-8 weeks. Legitimately it was a bizarre combination of stressful, boring, and frustrating. Of course, to escalate matters work was blowing up, one of my colleagues was taking off a month as his second child was arriving so I finally came home again. This was lovely but also filled me with terrible guilt for leaving my brother with all the work of caring for our mother. Bizarrely, the weekend I was supposed to be travelling, the highway washed out. I left two weeks earlier so I would be back before my colleague’s baby was born. So that was a bit terrifying. 

To make matters even worse, as my mother’s condition progressed, she developed a personality unlike any we have known before. She became hateful, cruel and vicious. She still remembers enough about each of her children to use her knowledge of us to say terrible things. We are often accused of theft, mistreatment and cruelty. She has called the police so often on my brother that all they do is apologize when they show up to confirm she is alive and safe. When the meds are working well (constant adjustments are needed), she is closer to her old self - kinder but with a new bizarre obsessive side that is horrible in its own way. My formerly quiet mother temporarily checked herself into hospice and was then thrown out for harassing other dying people by claiming they were all in on the conspiracy to get her. I cannot express how out of character she behaves and how horrible the situation has become. 

Overall, it has been an awful experience unlike anything I could even have imagined. Currently my mother’s medications are working well and she is more reasonable. We wait for the other shoe to drop and the reappearance of the nightmare version of our mother. The tumour is growing and it is unlikely my mother will still be alive by summer 2022. 

She was 64 years old when she diagnosed and it is likely her parents and all of her siblings will outlive her. To make matters worse, my step-father (really the only father I have known) died in December 2019.

So that is the story of the last six plus months. Do not feel compelled in any way to message me to discuss because honestly I wouldn’t know what to say if this were happening to anyone else either. To be frank, it is pure shit. Just plain bullshit. I started therapy, promise! 

I am relieved to continue to use this blog as my form of escape from everything that is going on.

Love to you all. Thank you for your constant kindness and support and endless patience with me. 

[stardustedknuckles]

I got diagnosed with PMDD about two years ago but I think it really got confirmed today. Two years ago I was on wellbutrin and my GP suggested taking an extra one of those since antidepressants were the first-line treatment. Well. The wellbutrin was already causing anxiety, so...

Anyway I finally stepped off of that and talked to my pharmacist about whether there was any real risk in me taking a half of my dad’s old sertraline. I’ve been on it before but it didn’t do much after the first amazing couple months, it would be a low dose, etc. And I spent an hour having immense anxiety at just the thought of taking it anyway because what if? What if I just fucking died for no reason? I could tell it was anxiety but that wasn’t making it easier to buckle down and take. I got a friend to yell at me gently to do it and I did and within two minutes. Just like that, things started to change.

Which is actually what happened the first time I took a Zoloft, and I spent years hearing how that had to be placebo because SSRIs don’t work like that. Mostly that’s true. Unless you’re doing intermittent dosing for a few days before your period. In that case, they work extremely quickly. I first started Zoloft because my mom induced an anxiety meltdown demanding I look her in the eyes and then she dragged me to minor emergency where they went “no offense but you look depressed af. Please take this very safe SSRI.” Like I said, it worked within minutes. Almost like I’ve had PMDD for a long while and was raised that it was normal to go through hormonal hell. 

Anyway today within 30 minutes of taking it I could eat, and soon after my stomach issues from the past two days spontaneously resolved. I’m cozy and waiting for my delta 8 gummy to kick in, so probably not in shape for writing tonight. But I’ll get back to it soon. 

This could’ve been said in like three sentences but whatever, it’s fine.

[caranfindel]

Take these broken wings and learn to fly (15.20 coda)

het, but Wincest-compatible | about 2300 words | PG-13 for language | characters: sam winchester, sam’s blurry wife |

Julia has been widowed (God, what an awful word, widowed) for three years when she meets Sam. It’s a work-based friendship at first. She’s kind of lonely and sad, he’s kind of lonely and sad, and they gravitate toward each other. And then one evening they’re at a bar, the last ones left from an after-work happy hour, both of them drinking more than they should, and she thinks he’s kind and thoughtful and smart and he may be 10 years older than me but he’s still hot as hell and I enjoy being with him and I look forward to seeing him and maybe I should just… and she kisses him. He’s shocked; shocked enough to confirm that he wasn’t just hanging around hoping to make it out of the friendzone. And then he’s holding her face in his hands and he’s kissing her too.

It’s good. They’re good together. It’s not the earth-shattering, all-encompassing romance she had with Shaun. Julia knows she’ll never have anything like that again. Most people don’t even get one soulmate in their lives; no one gets two. And she knows Sam doesn’t have that same desperate love that Shaun had for her; she knows she’ll never have his whole heart. (She knows the woman he intended to marry was killed in a fire, she knows another woman he loved went back to her ex. She doesn’t know which of these women still owns that last piece of Sam’s heart.) But she loves Sam, and he loves her, and they get married.

(The sex is amazing. Sometimes he’s gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid he’ll break her, and other times he’s fierce and passionate and almost tries to break her, and she loves both ends of the spectrum.)

She suggests they melt down her old wedding band to make a new one. It was an heirloom from her grandmother, a plain wide band of yellow gold that she loves, that she thought she’d wear for the rest of her life. But Shaun is the one who put it on her finger the first time. It doesn’t seem right to ask Sam to accept it now. A new band from the old gold seems like a good compromise. No, Sam says, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know a way we can make it ours. He has the inside of the band engraved with the same symbol he wears tattooed over his heart, and makes her promise to never take it off. Bad luck, he says.

He’s such a contradiction. Scary smart, but as superstitious as an Appalachian grandmother. Calm and unflappable, but with a weirdly hyperactive startle reflex. Kind and empathetic, but capable of extreme violence when pushed to his limits (seriously, don’t walk your drunk ass up to Sam Winchester’s wife and lay hands on her, and don’t get mouthy when she tells you to back off) and just really, frighteningly skilled at that violence.

(A little frightening and also very sexy. Julia’s always had a thing for the hero type.)

They both have nightmares. One night Julia watches Shaun’s face melting under his gear and wakes with a cry of horror. Sam holds her as she tearfully describes living on the knife edge of constant fear that comes with loving someone whose job is literally running into burning buildings. I know, he says, over and over, even though he can’t possibly know. The irony of their first loves both dying in flames is not lost on her, but it’s not like his college girlfriend was a firefighter. It’s not like he watched her go to work every day and prayed she’d make it home alive.

Julia’s pregnancy is a wonderful surprise. She and Shaun had tried for over a year before she was widowed, and she just didn’t count on it happening with Sam. They agree not to name the baby after anyone they’ve lost. Let’s not name him after our pain, she says, and Sam is okay with that. (Or he isn’t. But ever since she showed him the positive pregnancy test, she’s known she could ask him for anything. She’s known he would rip out his heart and serve it on a platter if she asked for it.)

But they haven’t decided on a name yet when her water breaks four weeks early. When their perfect baby boy is born at 12:10 a.m., the nurse announces the date and time and Sam looks up at her in shock and blinks away happy tears and says it’s the 24th. It’s my brother’s birthday. Julia is flying high on endorphins; she loves this baby and she loves this man and she even loves his dead brother she never got to meet, and she says it’s got to be a sign; let’s name him Dean.

She takes off her wedding ring, just this once, to have Dean’s birthdate engraved on the inside. Sam does the same with his own ring. He insists they go to a jeweler who will engrave while they wait, rather than leaving the rings there. She waves a hand at her lumpy postpartum body. You afraid someone’s gonna make a move on all this if you don’t keep a ring on it?

He laughs at her and says you’re onto me, even though he’s the one who needs to be locked away, still with that long lean runner’s body and the amazing shoulders and the goddamn dimples. I just don’t like us being without them, he says. He is a sweet, sentimental fool and she adores him. He bends down to kiss her, carefully maneuvering the baby he’s wearing in a sling, and Julia looks at this man and this baby and this life she didn’t think she was get to have and knows she’s happier than she has any right to be. And she’s relieved when Sam slips the ring back onto her finger, this ring imbued with the men she loves, so maybe he’s not the only sentimental fool.

(One thing she loves about Sam is that he understands why she feels guilty that Shaun didn’t get to share this life with her.)

In July they light a little candle for Dean’s six-month birthday. When Julia wakes the next morning, Sam’s side of the bed is empty and cold. She finds him cuddling their sleeping baby in the living room. I got up to give him a bottle, Sam says. I guess I just fell asleep out here. His red-rimmed eyes and empty coffee mug suggest he didn’t actually sleep at all, but, well. They’re both battling their own private demons. If a night cradling the baby gives Sam some peace for whatever reason, she’s glad of it.

Sam’s fierce love for their child takes her by surprise. If Julia has 90% of his heart, his son has 110%. He parents with a vengeance, is the only way she can think of to describe it. Like he’s making up for something. She doesn’t feel slighted, but it’s impossible to ignore that ever since Dean was born, Sam’s prime objective has been to make sure the boy is happy and safe. Everything else comes second.

(When she notices Sam has been carefully marking his tattoo symbol onto Dean’s clothing, hidden near seams and always in a color that almost matches the fabric, she decides not to say anything. He gets a little funny about his superstitions sometimes.)

Sam desperately wants Dean to have a sibling, and they try for another one, but it doesn’t happen. Julia reminds him that they’re lucky to have even one child. That having a sibling is not a lifetime guarantee of companionship and love. She should know, after all, since Stephanie cut her off after she married that asshole Scientologist and decided she couldn’t have a relationship with anyone who wasn’t also in their stupid cult.

Dean has plenty of friends and tons of activities, which Sam encourages with an almost religious fervor, but he never pulls away from his parents. They have so much in common, Sam and his son. Instead of rebelling as a teenager, Dean seems to grow even closer to his father. They spend hours together, paging through the ancient books in Sam’s study (she hates them, they smell musty and make her sneeze) or driving in the old Chevrolet. They even travel together sometimes, visiting those friends of Sam’s that live up north somewhere. Julia met them at the wedding and they were perfectly nice, thrilled to death that she and Sam had found each other. But she always feels like an outsider when they’re around, like they’re part of something she’ll never understand. So much history, with Sam and the brother she never got to meet. They absolutely dote on Dean though, and he seems to love them too, so the boys’ trip to Sioux Falls becomes an annual event.

(Dean is 14 years old when he comes home from one of these trips with his own version of the tattoo.)

When Julia is diagnosed with cancer, Dean is 16 years old. Sam does his best to ensure life goes on as normal for their son but somehow never neglects Julia’s needs. He throws himself into research and is always on top of the latest treatment, always at her elbow with the top internet-recommended remedy for her side effects, making sure both she and Dean have everything they want and need, all the attention and support they can tolerate. She doesn’t know when, or if, Sam actually sleeps. When she feels up for it, he arranges experiences for the three of them. A week lying on the beach, a weekend in New York City, a night in the mountains looking at the stars. When we look back on this time, he says, I don’t want us to only remember how much it sucked. I want us all to have good memories too.

(She doesn’t know why he’s concerned about her memories. There’s a good chance she won’t have much time to enjoy them. But it’s good for Dean. She doesn’t want this to ruin Dean’s childhood.)

Sam insists Dean go away to college as planned. Julia agrees, although she’s kind of surprised he’s willing to let the boy out of his sight. Aren’t you going to miss him? she asks.

So much, he answers. But this isn’t about me, and what I need. It’s about him. They drive Dean to school in the ancient Chevrolet. Supposedly because the trunk has room for all of his stuff, but Julia is pretty sure it’s just one last sentimental road trip in the old thing before Sam retires it. When they pick Dean up at the end of the school year, it’s in her SUV. Dean promises his father, more than once, that he’ll restore the Chevy someday.

Five years after Julia’s diagnosis, she’s sitting in the doctor’s office learning that her last remission was her last remission. There are no more options. She has months, not years. Sam clutches her hand and nods, once, as if to say I should have known this would happen; I should have expected something like this. Then he takes her home.

It’s a blessing in a way, he says late that night, after a little too much to drink. Knowing what’s coming. Having time to say goodbye. You don’t always get that. And yes, she knows this as well as anybody does.

Sam has always been supportive of her choice not to contact Stephanie, but one day he says Jules, I promise I’ll never bring it up again. It’s just that I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you miss the opportunity to say things that you’ll wish you’d said. Julia isn’t sure Steph will speak to her. She’s not even sure she’ll have the same phone number — they haven’t spoken since Dad’s funeral, a year after she was widowed — but she makes the call. And Steph answers. And cries. And comes to visit, where she hugs and cries some more. Sam watches it all with a sad smile for a while, then disappears into the garage to sit in the old Chevy.

When Julia takes her last conscious breaths, Dean is holding one hand and Sam is holding the other. She squeezes her son’s hand and thinks I love you, dear boy, and I’m sorry I have to leave you. She squeezes her husband’s hand and thinks thank you for giving me this, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for loving me and letting me love you. Then she closes her eyes and lets the soft, warm darkness take over.

And then. Then she wakes to a cool breeze and the sound of chirping birds. She’s standing at a lake she recognizes. It’s Shaun’s favorite fishing spot. And Shaun is there, waiting for her. And everything is okay.

Sam does show up eventually. Julia’s sitting on the porch of the cabin with Shaun, enjoying the perpetual nice day (sometimes a spring morning, sometimes a fall afternoon, but always nice) when she hears the familiar rumble. It cant be, she thinks. It can’t be that old car. But it is.

I’m glad you found someone with good taste in cars, Shaun says, as Sam unfolds himself from the driver’s seat. He looks exactly as he did the day she met him; no glasses, only a little grey at his temples. Still tall and strong and beautiful. She runs to meet him and embraces him as Shaun watches from the porch.

You found Shaun, Sam says. I’m so happy for you, Jules. I really am. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of joining her (their) Heaven permanently, but he doesn’t seem to have anyone else with him either. Where is the dead girlfriend? How is this fair?

They talk about Dean, and Julia’s heart swells with pride over her strong, smart, kind, brave son. He’s like you, she says. He’s just like you.

Sam shrugs. He’s a Winchester.

But what about you? she says. You’re not — you’re not alone here, are you?

Nah, he says. I’m good. I promise.

(Eventually Julia meets the first Dean, and she understands.)

===

I know a lot of people have mocked Sam's blurry wife, but I actually have grown to love the concept. Because it means she can be anything we want her to be. And yeah, initially I liked the idea of her being Dr. Cara, or Eileen. But now I don't think that would happen. I think Sam would have to start fresh to have that kind of relationship. And I also like the idea of Sam's wife having her own soulmate somewhere, waiting for her, so she's not a huge part of Sam and Dean's shared Heaven. I mean, they're gonna visit, obviously. And then they'll go home to their soulmates.

The title is from "Blackbird" by the Beatles.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Jane Foster’s child

Jane Foster x child!reader

Thor Odinson x Foster!child!reader

warnings:

a/n: no not a foster child, jane foster’s child 😌 also im so super glad you liked those!!! hope these are just as good!!! and im genuinely so sorry these took so long

prompt: anonymous: “Hey! I just read the Tony Stark x Potts!child!reader HC and I loved it! Would you do the same but with Thor and Jane? ❤️”

no babysitter = go to work with mom

dr. selvig gave you a rubik’s cube to keep you entertained

“fuck that! here, y/n, you can play my DS” -darcy

“can you not swear in front of my child?” -jane

you thought tonight would be boring, but then your mom and darcy collectively hit a homeless guy with a car!

“holy crap, we’re all going to jail!” -you

“don’t say ‘crap,’ y/n! we need to get him to a hospital!” -jane

ngl this dude was kinda funky

darcy used her taser and your mom covered your eyes, but you still peaked ;)

ride to the hospital

“don’t touch him, y/n”

“sorry, doc”

and the very next day you guys stole him 💕

“mr. thor, where are you from?”

“i am from asgard! it is much different from this realm, but your’s is adequate, i suppose”

“thanks?”

you could see the way your mom looked at him, though

he ate all the pop tarts >:(

she gave thor her ex boyfriends clothes

“yeah, donald was a real ass—” -you

“don’t say ‘ass.’ darcy curses too much” -jane

“sorry, mom...anyways, donald forgot to pick me up from soccer practice like, a dozen times. he sucked” -you

“this ‘donald’ doesn’t seem like a very good man...also, what is ‘soccer?’” -thor

you grabbed a soccer ball and tried to show him how to play but there was some other stuff the *scientists* had to take care of

you were a regular at izzy’s diner (well, mom was) and they always made you cute pancakes in different shapes!!

“ah, it’s a smiley face! that’s adorable!” -thor

“yeah! they like to surprise me whenever i come in. they’re pretty awesome” -you

*your mom literally beaming at how good thor is with you already*

you and thor were drawing on paper placemats

and then he broke a glass and you started giggling hdhshshs

but he had to leave

“no, thor, please don’t go!”

“i hope to meet you again one day, little one. hopefully fate sees it through”

:((((

no time to be sad bc ur mom’s lab got hijacked by the government

“hey, no fair! that’s my diary!” -you

“sorry, kid. there are constellation drawings we have to observe” -coulson

“aw, you draw constellations? wait, not now. you can’t just take all our stuff. especially that! that belongs to a child!” -jane

“sic ‘em, y/n!” -darcy

“don’t listen to darcy, y/n” -selvig

chilling in the trailer and missing thor bc he was the most interesting thing to happen to you and your mom in a while

and you wanted her to be happy even tho he was kind of crazy

“hey, mom? do you want to watch the stars tonight like we used to do? we could make s’mores?”

“that sounds like a great idea, baby! i’ve gotta go take care of some science stuff, so i’ll pick up some s’mores stuff while i’m out. love you!”

yeah she went to go see thor and he kinda got arrested but your mom came back home so you could watch the stars!

“so, do you like thor?” -you

“what? what makes you say that?” -jane

“it’s cool if you do, i think he’s awesome. a little weird, but at least he’s nice”

then thor and selvig came home and selvig was drunk as a skunk

*poking him while he giggles and tells you about thor*

“i wish your grandfather could have met that guy! he would have loved him...i wish you met your grandfather, too” -selvig

thor inviting you back outside

“i’d like you to teach me more about this ‘soccer’”

by the time you guys were done, it was 3am and you were too pumped to go to sleep

so thor told you stories of his home and battle and family

you didn’t want him to stop, you were fascinated by it all

and uhhhh yeah then earth kinda had some vikings show up

they told you that you’d “make a fine warrior one day”

and then yall got attacked by a ????? a what??? a destroyer???????

“get y/n out of here now! they shouldn’t have to see this!” -thor

you were still nearby and saw thor become thor again

after he was done fighting the destroyer, you ran to give him a hug

“that was awesome! can i hold your hammer?”

“maybe someday, little one”

then you didn’t see him for 2 years

which upset your mom a good bit, you had to help her through that episode. lots of sitting on the couch and eating ice cream together talking about how he wasn’t worth her time even tho you missed him too

but he came back! and then your mom sent everything flying bc she had an “infinity stone” inside her and thor took you two to asgard

“y/n! you’ve grown so much, i almost didn’t recognize you!” -thor

tbh you really digged the outfit they gave you, but also you were on another planet? thor insisted on giving you a tour (by flying you around)

“i do hope you’re having fun, little one!”

worrying about your mom simultaneously bc you overheard she was sick

but asgard got attacked and you and jane were confined to a room in the palace, which sucked because you wanted to see it all

but thor sent guards to bring you anything to keep you entertained

“maybe we’ll skip the mace for now, thank you” -jane

after several events that count as child endangerment, this chapter came to an end and your mom and thor finally made it official

loki called you a rodent and then saved your life so you were kinda iffy about him

about a year or two later, your mom had to travel a great deal in order to get some work done, so you were left in the care of thor, who took you to avengers tower

“oh, my girlfriend’s child is an angel! and they’re so intelligent, just like their mother!” -thor gushing to other partygoers

“yeah, thor, your ‘angel’ is sneaking drinks from the elderly” -tony

*sipping his beer* “they’re a growing teenager”

you did have an amazing time interacting with the avengers

and once they tried grabbing the hammer, you knew you had to get in on it (but you failed like the rest)

“don’t worry, my y/n, you have to be eighteen years of age to be able to lift mjölnir!” -thor

“oh, that makes sense!” -you, while thor aggressively shakes his head at the other avengers. he just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel bad you weren’t worthy yet :(

more child endangerment but really what did you expect?

thor went off world and your mom split it off w him but you did have his email so you were still in contact with him

swearing you saw odin on the street once or twice (fast forward)

and then your mom dusted and thor found you as soon as he possibly could, it was so good to see him

he took you in since you were alone now, you moved to new asgard and became prince(ss) of the new land by relation?? makes sense right

basically you and valkyrie made all the calls while thor grieved for years

but he still took care of you

“y/n, would you like to play video games with me? i think it may be a good bonding experience, what do you say?” -thor

“duh!”

uncle korg made you help him with fortnite while thor was asleep

you wished to wield stormbreaker one day

showing thor earth media! his favorite star wars character is r2-d2 dont ask why

he taught you asgardian recipes and you taught him...earth recipes?

when he was drunk he’d ramble on about his childhood and battle and enemies and jane and loki and hela and frigga and literally anything that came to mind

“y/n, could you please get me a beer? and get one for yourself, too” -thor

valkyrie most definitely gave you some battle training so you you blow off some steam, you were glad she taught you how to fight like a true warrior

thor wanted to teach you battle tactics so you could fight alongside him, but he never got around to it

a raccoon and bruce banner visited later on, proposing a way to get your family back, thor was an emotional wreck

his debriefing on the reality stone was tense when he started crying about your mom and everyone stared at you

“hey, don’t look at me. i don’t control the god, i just keep him company”

ending up waiting 1 second for the avengers to come back from their mission, resulting in you being stuck in the middle of a very heavy battle

“y/n, get out of here!” -thor

“don’t worry, thor! valkyrie taught me a few moves!”

“you make me incredibly proud, little one!”

“i’m not so little anymore, am i?”

“you will always be my little one, y/n. blood or not, that will not change!”

victory, but at what cost? it was a rough ride, you needed to get patched up, but your mom was finally home and thor...he decided it was time to leave earth again

“don’t worry, my y/n. i will see you again.” *tearing up* “i’m so glad i got the pleasure of raising you these past few years. i love you dearly, now go be with your mother”

you straight up wanted to bawl your eyes out right there

“well, y/n, you’re next in line for the throne of new asgard. what is your first command?” -valkyrie

“actually, i think you’d make a much better ruler than me. i’ve got to spend some time with my mother now that she’s home”

“you’re so much like him, you know that?”

staying with your mother, who was diagnosed with cancer not long after returning from the soul stone (a/n: jane getting cancer is canon in the comics and confirmed for thor 4)

“i missed five years of your life and now i’m sick, that’s just our luck, isn’t it?” -jane

she was understandably upset, but she also felt guilty

“mom, don’t beat yourself up. everything is okay, we’re still together right now. i won’t be going anywhere, i promise”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiantfavs // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck //

[crazy-loca-blog]

heyyyy! I wanted to ask you some newlywed questions for Casey and Ethan! The trick is to answer these as them!

For Both:

Who gets sick more often? Do they follow doctor orders when they're sick?

Their signature dish or drink?

What's your spouse's catchphrase?

Who's neater?

Who's the better kisser?

For Casey

Fill in the blank, My husband is the world’s worst ___________.

Which of his relatives would you say liked you the most? Why?

Ethan agrees to have takeout for dinner from "his favorite place". Where is that and what do you get him?

Describe your first birthday with him. What did he get you? How did you celebrate?

How does he like his eggs cooked?

For Ethan

What is your favorite thing to do for her on the toughest days?

What do you remember the most about the first time you met her?

What does she spend the most money on? What are your thoughts about that?

Describe her using emojis only.

What were the best ten minutes next to her?

OMG Bree!!! This was such a challenge because before the series finale, I think I was one of the very few people who never ever pictured Ethan and Casey as a married couple!! But this is incredibly fun, so let's see how it goes (by the way, I had to cheat on the emojis question, but only because I remembered emojis are different depending on your phone and I don't know if they'll be fully visible, so I had to add a description! 😂):

Masterlist

For Both:

Who gets sick more often? Do they follow doctor orders when they're sick?

Casey: Me. I get sick at least twice a year. But I'm much better at following doctor orders than Ethan because I hate being sick, it makes me feel useless, so I want to recover fast.

Ethan: Casey. And no matter what she says, she's a terrible patient. She is stubborn and wants to go back to work even though she's not feeling OK.

Casey: At least I try to keep positive when I'm sick. When Ethan gets sick... OMG, he is a walking nightmare! You're so lucky that I promised to love you for better or worse.

Ethan: I won't deny it... I only get sick once in a while, but being sick puts me in a bad mood, she must love me a lot to stay around me when I'm not feeling OK.

Their signature dish or drink?

Casey: My cookies recipe, Ethan can't resist it. I learned it from Sienna, but I added my personal touch to it and now they're a must in our kitchen.

Ethan: I like to cook fish and meat, and I can proudly say I've managed the technique for them fo be perfectly cooked.

Casey: Ethan could always try Masterchef if this medicine thing doesn't work... cooking is one of his many hidden talents.

What's your spouse's catchphrase?

Casey: "Interns..." and then he pinches the bridge of his nose.

Ethan: "OMG!" with a very surprised expression on her face.

Casey, surprised: OMG, I don't do that!

Ethan: *laughs* You just did it!

Who's neater?

Casey: At home? Ethan. At work, definitely me.

Ethan: Agreed. We both have our moments. Casey is the most methodical doctor I've ever known and she makes my job as Chief of Medicine much easier, but at home she is... chaos. And I'm the complete opposite.

Who's the better kisser?

Casey: Ethan, he is an amazing kisser! I'm so lucky to say that he's all mine! *laughs*

Ethan: Casey, you can feel the love in each one of her kisses.

Casey: Keep going, Ramsey... I may actually love you a little more after this interview...

~~*~~*~~*~~

For Casey:

Fill in the blank, My husband is the world’s worst ___________.

Casey: Liar. He may fool other people, but not me. He has a terrible poker face, so when the expression on his face doesn't match his words, you know he is lying.

Which of his relatives would you say liked you the most? Why?

Casey: Alan. He says I'm the only person his kid actually listens to, so... 🤷🏻‍♀️

Ethan agrees to have takeout for dinner from "his favorite place". Where is that and what do you get him?

Casey: Pasta from a restaurant that's a few blocks from our home. They have different pasta recipes from all over the world and we've tried almost every single dish on that menu and we both love them all, but his favorite is actually an Argentinian stuffed pasta called sorrentinos. They're like raviolis, but extra large... he likes the ones filled with spinach, ricotta and nuts. And they usually don't have takeout, but we go there so often that they are willing to make some exception when it comes to us.

Describe your first birthday with him. What did he get you? How did you celebrate?

Casey: It was the sweetest birthday ever, so take a seat because this is a long story that deserves to be told. At that time, we were seeing each other in secret and kind of trying to figure things out, but we weren't even official. And we had been dealing with a really tough case in the team for weeks. We couldn't diagnose this kid and I tend to break everytime I must see kids battling for their lives, so we were working late almost everyday, I was exhausted, my energy was drained and I didn't feel like celebrating at all. So I had told my roomies that I just wasn't in a mood. I was also trying to hide it from the team because you know, it's the job, but Ethan suspected that the case was getting to me. And he confirmed it when Sienna told him how much this case was affecting me at home. So he decided to do something about it without going over the top and by keeping things simple. So that day, I woke up because someone was knocking at our apartment's door... and he had sent me the most beautiful bouquet I had ever seen... but as we were secretly "a thing", I had to tell the roomies that it was a gift from my brother, because I didn't want them to think I had a secret admirer or something like that! 😂. And after work he just asked me what I wanted to do because he didn't want to push me to celebrate if I wasn't in a mood... and I just said I wanted to go home. But for some reason, and now that I think about it, I never asked him why, he didn't take me to my place. Instead, he took me to his place, he cooked an amazing dinner, we took a nice and warm bath, and then we cuddled and watched silly movies until like 2am "because even though he hates silly movies, he had realized how sad I was and he wanted to make me laugh". I felt so pampered, so protected, so taken care of... I was happy. And that day I knew it: Ethan was home.

Ethan: For the record, I only took you to my place because I knew that if I took you to yours, you'd be taking the work home with you again and you'd be feeling miserable because solving the case was taking us longer than expected.

Casey: *smiles* Sure, babe, you keep telling yourself that.

Ethan: *rolling his eyes* It's the truth...

Casey: Just remember what I answered about you in the first question...

How does he like his eggs cooked?

Casey: Poached. And he won't tell you this, but he actually enjoys fried eggs more than he likes to admit, so I'd say those are a close second and they'll probably take the first place soon.

Ethan: What can I say? a not so long time ago, a very stubborn intern told me "it's OK to treat yourself sometimes", and it stuck with me.

~~*~~*~~*~~

For Ethan:

What is your favorite thing to do for her on the toughest days?

Ethan: Casey is a person who enjoys the simple things in life. And even though I would bring down the moon, the stars, the sun and every single planet to make her feel better and to show her how much I care, I've learned to know that when she's not feeling OK, she needs something as simple as a hug and a shoulder to cry on. No questions, no judging, just support.

What do you remember the most about the first time you met her?

Ethan: It took me 30 seconds to realize that she was not the average intern. Any other intern, including me, would have failed at dealing with the pressure of an emergency thoracotomy in those circumstances, but she was brilliant.

What does she spend the most money on? What are your thoughts about that?

Ethan: Sneakers. Why does she need so many? She only wears a pair at work, a pair to workout and a pair on weekends. She even owns a basketball pair even though she hasn't played basketball in over a decade! She has enough sneakers to wear a different pair every day for at least two months.

Casey: Guilty as charged, I won't fight you this one...

Describe her using emojis only.

☺️/😂 -> Not only she is funny, she always has a smile on her face. If she's not smiling, then you know something is wrong. 🤓 -> She is a nerd and she is proud of it. 🔥-> Passionate. 🥊-> Fighter. 👩‍❤️‍👨 -> The love of my life. 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 -> We haven't talked about it yet, so I don't think she knows it, but I can see this one in our future.

Casey: *surprised* Wait what? Our future? Now you have to show me which ones you chose!

Ethan: Patience is a virtue, Dr. Valentine.

What were the best ten minutes next to her?

Ethan: Every minute that I spend next to her is perfect, how could I choose only ten?

Casey: Aaaand that's how my husband manages to leave me speechless... I love you, Ramsey...

[tchallasbabymama]

Isn’t She Lovely

Hey beautiful people, here’s chapter 11 of Playlist. Check out my masterlist here to catch up and to read my other stories.

Also, In a couple weeks I’ll be starting up “Ménage `a Trois”, a T’Challa x  OC x M’Baku throuple fic. Check out the preview here! Word count: 6800

CW: pregnancy complications, a lil smut

“What about T’Kiri?”

“What is it with you all and these apostrophe names? No. How about Adana?”

T’Challa shook his head and scrunched up his nose.

“I hooked up with an Adana once, pass.”

Ashanti rolled her eyes, “Well maybe if you weren’t such a whore back in the day this would be easier.”

Shuri caught the tail end of their conversation and cackled loudly as she entered the kitchen.

“Still trying to come up with names?” She asked as she sat next to Ashanti, now towards the end of her second trimester. The princess grabbed a mango and started slicing away, handing some to Ashanti without her even needing to ask. 

“Yes, and half of the girl names I suggest remind your brother here of his sordid past.”

T’Challa rolled his eyes as he continued to fix her a plate of fish and plantains, her latest craving combination. “My past is not sordid, in fact it was quite fun-”

Ashanti stared at him with vibranium daggers in her eyes and he changed his tune, clearing his throat.

“What I mean is, um-”

“Mmmhm. Anyways, this baby will be here before we even know what to call them,” Ashanti put her head in her hands and Shuri rubbed her back.

“Are you open to suggestions?”

“Sure, why not?” Ashanti gave in.

“I’ve always liked Jendayi for a girl.”

“Jendayi…”

“Jendayi…”

The parents both rolled the name around their mouths and looked to each other for confirmation.

“Ok I like it, it’s going on the list.”

“How many names do you have so far?” “We have Nailah, and Jendayi for a princess. A prince would either be Dakarai, Hasani, Kendi, Shaka, or Omari.” Ashanti pulled the prince names out of thin air since they knew they were having a girl, but wanted to throw her off their trail.

“Oooh, good choices.”

“Thank you,” she playfully stuck her tongue out at T’Challa and he gave her the “you’re gonna get it later” look. Her face got hot and she looked away, knowing she had been working his nerves all day long. Ashanti dug into her food and smiled at how even when she was being difficult he would pull out all the stops for her. He scooped some fish and plantains onto his plate and stood with his back against the counter, devouring his food.

“So I see you two are still on that weird ‘baba pregnancy’ thing.”

“Thank Bast for the heart shaped herb or I wouldn't be able to fit into my suit,” T’Challa mused before he and Shuri heard a small sniffle.

“Lucky for you. I feel like an elephant.”

“Oh, my love, I didn’t mean-”

“I know, I just. Ugh, hormones,” she laughed through her tears and he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and rubbing her baby bump as he rested his head on top of hers, wishing his baby girl would kick for him.

The princess watched the adorable interaction and sighed. The more she saw of Ashanti’s pregnancy, the more she realized she would never put herself through that ever in her life. Shuri felt she was destined to be the Cool Aunt, not someone’s mother.

“Well I just came for a snack, I’ll see myself out before the two of you start practicing for baby number two.”

They chuckled, but understood. Lately they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other and oftentimes forgot to tone it down when there were other people in the room.

“We can behave, we promise.”

“Speak for yourself,” T’Challa grumbled into her ear, causing her to giggle.

Shuri wretched loudly as she left the room.

“She’s so easy,” T’Challa laughed at his sister’s habit of disappearing whenever they got too close.

“She’ll be a great auntie though. Imagine her teaching our little girl, she’ll be a genius!”

“Who do you think taught Shuri?” he asked, slightly taken aback. 

“I just sort of assumed she came out the box fully assembled.”

He laughed at her and reached for her plate.

“No, I’ll get it baby, you do so much for me,” she turned around on her stool and gave him a kiss before hopping off and grabbing her plate. Before she made it around the counter T’Challa got a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach and she faltered, dropping the dish with a loud crash and fainting into his arms.

When she woke up she was in Shuri’s lab with her midwife, Binta, T’Challa, and Shuri all surrounding her. 

“What happened?”

“You fainted, love,” T’Challa’s voice was shaky.

“Am I...is the-”

“They’re ok, but dear...you have preeclampsia. Your blood pressure is through the roof, it’s amazing this didn’t happen sooner,” the midwife, Ramla, pointed out. “And you’re lucky the king was there or it could have been much worse.”

T’Challa intertwined their fingers and squeezed her hand. She could tell he was shaken up.

“Ok so what now?” the queen asked. Binta grabbed her other hand and looked to both the soon-to-be parents.

“You’re on bedrest, sweetie.”

“What does that mean?”

They all locked eyes with each other in a silent conversation.

“It means we need to keep your stress levels down so you and your baby can stay healthy.”

“You mean, keep me from getting worse…” her voice softened from the emotions welling up inside her.

T’Challa looked to the midwife and she nodded before leading everyone else out of the room. Once they were alone her tears flowed freely and he wiped them away, letting a couple of his own fall right along with hers. 

“You scared me, Kitten,” his hand found its way to his daughter, like always. “I thought I lost you...both of you.” 

“We’re here, baby,” her hand cupped his face and brought his lips down to hers. She kissed him lightly and wiped away his tears now. She knew that although anybody would have been scared in that situation, T’Challa was especially worried about the same thing happening to Ashanti that happened to his mother, and now his worst fears were coming true. She kissed him again and he leaned against the table to get closer. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

“You better not, I’ll go drag you back myself.”

Ashanti chuckled, but she knew he meant every word.

--------

T’Challa pulled up to the small home on the outskirts of town and parked his hoverbike around back before heading up to the door and knocking. When the door opened he was met with the sight of a short and stout woman with long gray hair braided down her back. Her face lit up when she saw him and her warm eyes crinkled as she smiled. Her smile was short-lived though as she quickly reverted to fussing at him.

“It’s been too long, T’Challa.”

“Yes ma’am, I know. My apologies.”

“Mhm, get in here.” she opened her arms and he came in for one of her famous hugs that made all your problems disappear.

“You should stop by and say hi to your old nanny more often,” Ada chastised him. “But I’m glad to see you. Come in, make yourself at home. Are you hungry? I just finished dinner, I’ll get you a plate.”

He wasn’t, but he knew better than to turn down food from Ada. 

“So what brings the king to my doorstep?”

“Ada, you changed my diapers, I’m not ‘the king’ to you.”

“See that’s where you’re wrong, you were always a king. Plus it’s just so funny to say ‘I used to wash the king’s ass’,” she set down a plate just as he took a seat, both laughing. “So, what’s bothering you?”

“Why does something have to-” 

“Boy please, get to talking.”

He had hoped he could work his way up to the conversation, but Ada could always read him like a book. He let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his seat.

“It’s Ashanti…”

“Hormones driving you crazy already? It’s just going to get worse from here, so strap in.”

“No, well yes, but I can handle her mood swings...mostly. It’s about her health...she was diagnosed with preeclampsia just the other day and I…,” he sighed again and ran his hand down his face.

“I understand,” she said, taking his hand in her much smaller ones. “T’Challa she’s not your mother.” 

“I know that on some level, but it’s the same ailment and I just can’t get those thoughts out of my head.”

“Of course.”

“And she still hasn’t kicked-”

“She? Awwww, you’re going to spoil her rotten.”

“That is what Ashanti and mama say. You all act as though I have no self-control.”

“You won’t once she stares up at you with those big brown eyes and goes ‘pleeease baba’. I’d bet money on it.”

“You three have no faith in me,” he chuckled as he shook his head.

“Oh I have all the faith in the world, dear. You’ll be a great baba, just as I’m sure you are a great husband.”

“I am trying. She’s supposed to be on bedrest relaxing until the baby comes, but you know her.”

“Mmmhm, stubborn as a rhino,” Ada said, head shaking from side to side. “I bet getting her to stay in bed takes an act of Bast.”

“It’s been two weeks and she’s already going stir-crazy. I just wish I could do something, I feel so helpless.”

“All you can do is keep that woman off her feet and away from stressors.”

“Ugh, she lives for stressors. I can’t get her to stop working. You know, she almost went down to Taj’s yesterday.”

Ada let out a belly laugh. She had known Ashanti almost her whole life, too. When her parents opened Zana Cafe, Ashanti would be across the street in her art supply store all the time browsing the aisles and coming up with all kinds of creative ideas. She knew the girl was head-strong, but her downright stubbornness tickled Ada. Ashanti was hard headed just like her umakhulu, and just like her husband.

“You’re not much better. Ramonda told me they basically had to drag you from the throne kicking and screaming when you caught that bug a few years ago. The image in my head is quite hilarious.”

“It wasn’t that dramatic, and I’ve since learned to take days off. If I hadn’t I never would have met Ashanti.”

“Yes, well thank Bast for-”

“Small miracles,” he smiled at her, completing her sentence. She would always say that to him when he was younger, and it stuck with him into adulthood.

“So you did listen to me,” she said with a smirk.

“Of course, more than my own baba at times,” he said sheepishly. “How have you been, Ada?”

“Getting old, but I can’t complain too much.”

“Ada you’re barely 70, you’ve got another 30 years in you.”

“Tell that to my bones,” he waved him off and he chuckled. “I can barely take a step without something aching or rattling.”

“You know, Shuri can help with that. Not the aging, but the pains.”

“I might have to take you up on that. How old is she now, nineteen?”

“Just turned twenty last month.”

“Bast, you kids are getting old. I can’t even call you kids anymore.”

T’Challa smiled warmly at his former nanny, reminiscing on his childhood before taking a bite of his meal.

“Mmm, Ada you’ve outdone yourself.”

“I know,” she winked at him and took a sip of her tea. “So, while you’re here can I get you to change a lightbulb for me?”

“Of course, you don’t have to bribe me with food,” he said and she shrugged, reaching for his plate as he moved it away from her hand. “I’ll take it though.”

T’Challa spent the afternoon with Ada, just catching up and doing odd jobs around her house before he got a call from his wife.

“You’ve been hiding out here all day, you better take that,” Ada warned as he took a deep breath and pressed his communication bead.

“Hello, my love.”

“Hi baby, what are you up to?”

“Visiting someone special,” he turned his beads towards Ada and she sent the queen a wave. Ashanti’s face lit up at seeing the older woman.

“Miss Ada, hi!”

“Well hello miss thing, what’s this I hear about you not listening to the midwife?”

Ashanti glared at T’Challa but he looked off to the side, pretending to care about the wallpaper.

“I’m listening...kind of.”

“Well, ‘kind of’ isn't good enough dear. Our princess there-”

“Challa! You told her?!”

“It slipped out!”

“Can you blame him for being excited?”

“No, I guess not. Oh! The reason I called,” she panned her beads down to her belly, “I think I felt a flutter.”

“Awwww.”

“She kicked?!”

“Not a full kick, just a little movement. Maybe she needs her baba to come sing to her after he picks up some sugared dates from that booth we really like.”

“Gladly,” he chuckled. He knew she had a sweet tooth and had planned to bring her some anyway. They said their goodbyes and T’Challa finished up dusting the fan blades before saying goodbye to Ada, too.

“Don’t let another year go by, T’Challa,” she fussed as he kissed her cheek.

“I wouldn’t dream of it! Come by the palace for dinner sometime, you know you’re always welcome. I’ll make your favorite,” he sang.

“Well if you’re cooking I’ll be there, just say when.”

“Tomorrow? N’Jadaka’s in town.”

“Oooh I’ll definitely be there. You know, if I were forty years younger I’d be your cousin-in-law.”

“Goodbye, Ada,” he chuckled as he took off on his hoverbike towards the bazaar.

--------

The King and Queen of Wakanda laid in their bed, silently watching trashy reality shows as they spoiled their dinner with sugared dates when T’Challa’s laugh made Ashanti sit up suddenly.

“What’s wrong?!” T’Challa panicked, his hand immediately going to her bump.

“Nothing, I thought I felt something.”

The two of them stayed still waiting to see if their baby girl was finally ready to make herself known. They must have sat there for five minutes before T’Challa gave up hope.

“Maybe next-”

“I felt it again!”

“Where?” 

She moved his hand over to her left side and they locked eyes.

“Say something again…”

“Uh, what do I say?”

“Did you feel that?”

“No, nothing,” his voice was soft as he visibly deflated.

“Hey,” she brought his face back to hers and kissed him softly, “she’ll kick soon, I can feel it...no pun intended.”

He chuckled and kissed her back.

“Maybe try talking to her some more, she seems to like your voice,” she stroked his curls as he laid his head right below her breasts, his large hand rubbing slow circles around her belly.

“Molo isipho sam, it’s your baba. Will you kick for me? Please?”

“Keep going, I feel that flutter again in the same spot.”

He brought his lips down to kiss over it before placing his hand there.

“Come on, baby girl…”

They spent the rest of the night like that, ordering their dinner to be brought to them so T’Challa could continue coaxing his daughter out of hiding. He spent the whole night periodically checking in with her to see if anything had changed, but she just wasn’t ready to kick yet. He was a little hurt, but was happy to know she responded to his voice. Even as Ashanti drifted off to sleep he continued to talk to his little girl about nothing and everything before wrapping his arms around his wife and following her to dreamland.

--------

T’Challa sat up from the dirt and looked around, confused by his surroundings. His heart beat out of his chest when he saw the far-off acacia tree filled with panthers.

“Relax, son, you’re not dead.”

His head jerked to the side and he locked eyes with N’Yami.

“Wh...how am I here?”

“Bast’s will. And I wanted to talk to you, unyana,” she reached out her hand to him and he took it, rising from the ground and dusting himself off. 

“Is something wrong? Is it Ashanti? The baby?!”

N’Yami chuckled, “No, it is you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you’re going to worry yourself to death about this pregnancy.”

“I’m just concerned about-“

“History repeating itself...I know, that’s why I brought you here,” she said with a smile before grabbing his hand, “walk with me, son.”

The two of them strolled along the plane in relative silence until they came upon the same lake Taj brought Ashanti to when she was in her coma. N’Yami waved her hand across the water and as the ripples travelled across the surface they carried an image with them. T’Challa could see himself asleep with his wife, chest rising and falling in rhythm.

“See? Not dead. Now look at this.”

She waved her hand across it in the other direction and another image came to view of T’Challa and Ashanti walking with a little girl teetering between them, holding their hands while she looked up at her baba. Much like his dreams of Ashanti before they met, he couldn’t make out his daughter’s face, but the sight of the three of them together warmed his heart. He felt his entire body relax, releasing tension he didn’t even realize he was holding on to. A big, lopsided smile took over his whole face and N’Yami looked on with pride as they both watched him with his family.

“I can’t see her face, but she’s beautiful,” he said in awe of his daughter. “Can you tell me her name?”

N’Yami chuckled, “It is not Bast’s will for me to do so...but you should know, the two of you chose well.” She winked and he smirked at her cryptic answer before turning his attention back to his daughter. 

He could have sat there all night watching her, but he knew he’d have to get back to the plane of the living soon enough so he tried to commit every detail he could to his memory. 

“Thank you for this, mama,” he hugged her and kissed her temple. They stayed like that for a few moments until N’Yami pulled away and looked at her son with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

“You should also know, she is a very special child...as is your wife.”

“How do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” she said with a snap of her fingers. T’Challa opened his eyes to see he was back in his bed with Ashanti, very much alive and sated with knowing his girls would be fine.

Just as he was about to get his day started, Ashanti rolled over and threw her leg across him before nuzzling into his side. He placed his arm around her and his other hand rested on her bump. Ashanti’s light snores filled the air as he rubbed her belly in circles with a smile on his face, thinking back to his dream. It was a little fuzzy, but he remembered seeing his birth mother and deep down he was no longer worried about Ashanti and their princess. As Ashanti slept he let his mind wander to thoughts of their future. Would they have more children? When would they step down? When would he let her take over being the Black Panther?

“So many questions, little one,” he mused aloud as he sighed, but his eyes quickly lit up at feeling the smallest little tremor right under his hand. 

“So you do like my voice, eh?” he felt it again and Ashanti shifted next to him, undoubtedly feeling the movement as well.

“Wake up, Kitten,” he whispered in her ear and a smile spread across her face before her eyes slowly fluttered open. “Watch this.”

He lowered himself to her belly and his eyes flitted back up to Ashanti.

“How was your sleep?”

“It- Bast! Did you feel that? You had to have felt that one.”

He nodded with a goofy smile on his face, “Just a little bit.”

Tears came to Ashanti’s eyes as she sat up in bed. More came and T’Challa grew concerned, pulling her into his arms.

“What is it, uthando? Talk to me,” he tilted her chin towards his face and wiped her tears before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I was worried something was wrong since she hadn’t moved yet,” the queen sniffled.

“She’s ok, just a late bloomer,” the smile returned to his face as he felt movement beneath his palm.

“She really loves her baba.”

“Can you blame her?”

“Uh-uh,” she leaned in to kiss him, slipping her tongue past his lips.

“Kitten…” he warned, “The midwife said-”

“Ugh I know what she said, but I’m horny as fuck. That’s gotta be another stressor or something, right?”

He laughed at her insistence. “Only if you choose to stress about it, my love. Don’t make me call Binta...or Bisa.”

“You wouldn’t dare…”

“Wouldn’t I? You won’t listen to me, so-,” he pretended to reach for his beads.

“Ok fine!” Ashanti pouted and T’Challa chuckled at her bratty behavior.  

“You act like I don’t miss it, too. Trust me, the second you’re all healed up, you’re in for it.”

With that he got out of bed and padded his way to the shower, turning it on to their desired temperature and catching a glimpse of her out the corner of his eye as she walked into the bathroom, yawning. When she turned towards the shower his jaw could have dropped.

“You get more beautiful every day,” he pulled her in and his fingers trailed down the dark line down the middle of her stomach as she rolled her eyes. “What? I’m serious, look at you.”

He pulled her in front of the full-length mirror in the shower and stood behind her with his head on top of hers and his arms in their usual place on the underside of her belly. He studied her round face as she squirmed in his arms.

“Challaaaa,” she whined and poked out her lip, “I don’t feel like it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know how to explain it...I just don’t feel like it’s my body anymore. I don’t feel like myself, I don’t feel beautiful or sexy or any of that stuff you tell me. I just feel...sick that this body that’s supposed to keep my baby safe and do all these wonderful things could harm her instead,” she didn’t even realize she was crying until she felt T’Challa’s thumbs on her cheeks. She buried her head in his chest and sobbed as he stroked her back. “This was supposed to be a beautiful experience and it just sucks. Plus I’m constantly horny but I can’t even have sex with my hot ass husband. I fucking hate preeclampsia.”

“Me too, Kitten,” he sighed and she pulled back to look at him. She hadn’t really considered how he felt in all this, understandably wrapped up in her own web of emotions. “She will be fine though, I just know it. You both will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He grabbed the loofah and squirted some of her black soap bodywash into the middle before lathering her up.

“Last night, I had a dream but it’s sort of fuzzy. N’Yami was there and...I think she gave me a glimpse into our future. I don’t remember what I saw, but I woke up happy.”

A slight smile appeared on her face.

“And as for the sex, well the midwife said if we can get your blood pressure down it’s a maybe...so let’s focus on keeping you relaxed, ok?”

Ashanti nodded before he grabbed her chin and forced her eyes on his. “Because I miss my pussy,” he kissed her passionately before he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “You walking around here looking like this while I can’t touch you is gonna come back to haunt you later, trust me. I know you don’t see it right now, but you look like Bast herself.”

T’Challa knelt down to wash her legs and feet and she moaned at the feeling of being pampered by him. He chuckled and rose to his full height before she began washing his body in return. He stopped her when she began to kneel, but she got down anyway.

He had missed how she looked from that angle and she tried her best to ignore his thickening member right in front of her face. He had just taken care of her, what harm could it do to return the favor?

She looked up at him with a playful look in her eye and just as he registered what she was going to do, his dick was already halfway down her throat.

Her head bobbed up and down his length as he leaned back against the shower wall, sloppy sucking noises filling the air. His hand palmed the back of her head, but didn’t push. It just stayed there, riding out the waves of pleasure shooting through him.

Her tongue explored the head of his dick as her left hand fondled his balls while her right hand stroked his shaft. He let out a loud moan when she took him all the way in and swallowed around him, deepening the suction as she did her damndest to suck the cum right out of him.

“K-kitten, mmm. Let me cum on that pretty face of yours,” he growled out. She removed her lips from him with a pop, but a trail of spit still connected her to him.

“Ewe Kumkani,” she said as she stroked his dick with both hands. “I hear you at night, in here stroking your dick because you can’t fuck me. Let me do it for you, baby.”

“Mmmhm,” was all he could say as her grip tightened around his length and her other hand cupped his balls, making his cum shoot out and paint her face.

“Stay just like that,” he grabbed his beads from outside the shower and pointed them towards her. She smiled as he snapped a picture of her covered in his essence. He helped her up from the floor and kissed her before they finished their shower and went their separate ways for the day: T’Challa to the throne room and Ashanti to the couch to catch another trashy tv marathon.

--------

“Are you sure you feel up to this? We can cancel if we need to,” T’Challa fretted as he put on her shoes for her since she couldn’t reach her feet anymore. She was eight months pregnant with their active little girl and was finally getting to have some fun for the first time since she was placed on bedrest. 

“Challa, we’re not cancelling my party. We’ll be fine, remember?” She alluded to his dream from several weeks ago as she took his head in her hand and brought it to her face for a kiss.

“I know, I just want you to be comfortable.”

“What’s more comfortable than being showered with gifts and praise?”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead then her nose then her lips.  He reached for his beads and she stopped him.

“If you call for that transport chair, I swear to Bast-”

“It’s too far for you to walk, my love.”

“It’s just downstairs, I’ll be fine if we walk slowly.”

T’Challa agreed before holding out his arm for her and the two of them leisurely walked downstairs to join their friends and family that awaited them for a small party in Ashanti and baby’s honor.

When they walked in they were met with the smiling faces of their loved ones all around the beautifully decorated living area. Ashanti’s eyes watered at the sight and everyone smiled empathetically at her tears. Bisa approached her daughter and led her to the throne she never gets to sit in anymore, what with being bedridden and all. They had it brought upstairs for the night just so she could sit on it like the proper queen she is.

“Look familiar?” Chidi joked as she sat down gingerly.

“Barely, I forgot what it looked like!” 

Everyone laughed and she looked around, confused.

“Where’s yours?” she asked her husband.

“Today is not about me, it’s about the queen.”

“Nah we got some stuff for you too, you just don’t get a throne,” N’Jadaka shouted from the kitchen, looking over the snack table before his auntie pulled him away.

T’Challa chuckled and made himself comfortable in a normal chair next to her. He couldn’t take his eyes off of how she looked sitting on that throne. Ashanti looked more regal than ever and he fell in love all over again. She caught him staring and he sent her a wink, so she sent him one right back.

Zina giggled at their interaction and Ashanti turned to ask her about the shop when T’Challa stopped her, “No work today, uthando.”

“How did you-”

“I know you,” he turned to their loved ones, “So, what now?”

“Now I get gifts,” Ashanti said with a devilish smirk on her face, making the room erupt in laughter.

“That you do dear, and I think your parents wanted to go first,” Ramonda stated, moving out the way so they could get to their daughter.

They were both already fighting tears as they hugged their baby girl tight. When they pulled back, Chidi handed her a gift wrapped box that she quickly tore into. When she removed the lid, she paused.

“Was this-”

“Yours, mhm. It’s your baby blanket,”  Bisa sniffled as Ashanti pulled the woven blanket from the box, tracing her fingers over the symbols and fighting tears of her own. She handed it to T’Challa and he looked over it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Ada was next, pulling a stuffed panther from behind her back. 

“I made it myself,” she bragged as both of the soon-to-be-parents’ faces lit up. 

“Miss Ada, it’s beautiful!”

“Nothing but the best for our future prince or princess,” she said with a wink. So far she was the only person who knew the gender besides the two of them and they wanted to keep it that way for now.

One by one, their loved ones presented them with gifts for the baby and parents. N’Jadaka got the baby a tiny pair of limited edition Jordans, Zina and Jafari made the baby a little Taj’s apron and an IOU to paint a family portrait once the baby arrives, and Shuri made a bassinet that could track the baby’s vital signs and growth. M’Baku and Shani gifted them with furs to keep the baby warm when they visited their aunt and uncle in the mountains. Nakia got the future monarch hand-sewn vibranium cloth diapers, sure to keep in whatever messes they made. Naturally, Okoye gave them a small practice spear, and Steve and Bucky sent a box of Cuban cigars for T’Challa to crack open after the birth. However, Kwame and Binta’s gift was apparently not to be opened in public since it was “for when that pussy heals.” 

Ramonda purposefully went last, handing them a storybook of Wakandan folktales.

“Open it,” she said to T’Challa with a gleam in her eye.

He cracked it open and the kimoyo bead lodged in the spine of the book activated. A voice rang out that hadn’t been heard in years.

“One day, Ari the panther was out walking by the river when she looked up and saw a monkey swinging from the tree above…”

“H-how?” T’Challa choked out as Ashanti reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“He had the idea a long time ago and figured he should go ahead and do it ‘just in case’.”

Everyone, aside from N’Jadaka, who would truly never forgive his uncle in life or death, was misty-eyed. 

“Now they can know their umakhulu, even if it is just his voice.” 

“Thank you, mama. Thank you all, this has been…” his voice trailed off as his eyes found their way back to the storybook.

“You don’t have to thank us, we do it because we love you. All three of you.”

The little party continued through the night, with Ashanti on her throne looking to her loved ones with a smile on her face. Her right hand almost never left her bump as she thought about all the love their little girl would be surrounded by her whole life. She was lost in her thoughts for a moment before yawning and bringing herself back to the present. 

Bisa caught the tail end of it and shook her head, “Someone’s tired.”

“This is the most excitement I’ve had in months,” Ashanti chuckled “I guess I just can’t hang anymore.”

“You’ll get back to it once baby…” Chidi trailed off, hoping a name would slip out one of the parents’ mouths. “Oh, come on!”

“We haven’t even picked a name yet, baba. Actually,” she looked to T’Challa for confirmation and he gave a slight nod, “we were wondering if you all could each give us one suggestion.”

“No playing favorites, though!” Kwame pointed out, making everyone else nod along in agreement.

“Yes, you should not pick my suggestion just because it is mine, but because it is obviously the best,” M’Baku grinned from his corner of the room and Shani rolled her eyes at her husband’s antics.

“Everyone, text me your suggestions and I’ll send them over. I already gave them a name the other day,” Shuri offered the group and her beads already started buzzing before she could finish her sentence. About a minute later, all the names were in and Shuri sent them off to Ashanti’s and T’Challa’s beads. “There you go. Have fun picking my name anyway.”

As the group argued amongst themselves about whose name would win, Ashanti leaned into her husband and whispered in his ear, “I love this, but I can’t keep my eyes open and Baby Girl is cranky and won’t stop kicking. Can we go?”

T’Challa leaned down and kissed her belly, “Princess, be nice to your mama.”

The kicking stopped and Ashanti glared at T’Challa.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to do?”

“Apparently,” he shrugged and kissed her temple before standing up. “Let’s go, love.”

He reached out his hand and she grabbed onto it, rising from her throne.

“Thank you everybody. I love you all, but I can’t stay awake any longer or I might just pass out.”

“Go get some rest, dear,” Ramonda kissed her cheek before turning and kissing her son’s. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

The couple said their goodbyes and went back to their quarters. They quickly got undressed and slid into bed, immediately getting into their usual position as of late with Ashanti curled into his side with her leg thrown over him and his hand resting softly on her bump. However, the princess wasn’t ready to go to sleep after today’s excitement.

“Challa, tell your daughter to go to sleep, mama’s tired,” she whined as her child turned cartwheels in her womb.

He scooted down to her belly and placed a kiss on it, rubbing the sides and softly singing a lullaby his baba used to sing to him. He remembered that it always knocked him out, and apparently it worked for his wife and child, too. They were both out within minutes and he smiled at a job well done.

--------

Around 1am, Ashanti got up to go to the bathroom, as usual, but when she got back in bed she just couldn’t seem to get comfortable. T’Challa’s light snores filled the room as Ashanti sat up in bed, rubbing her belly and thinking about what their future would be like when she felt a wetness between her legs.

“The fuck?” She stood up and saw a wet spot on the bed that reminded her of the fun times she and T’Challa had in the past. However, while she was still the culprit, this time it was a little different.

She waddled her way to the bathroom and wiped herself up, but it kept slowly leaking out of her.

“This is it, she’s coming,” she said aloud to no one in particular with a smile on her face before waddling back to the bed and shaking the sleepy king awake.

“Mmm, ice cream or peanuts tonight?”

“Neither.”

His eyes opened slowly and he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Ok, do you want me to cook something?”

Ashanti giggled, “No...I think the baby’s coming-”

“What?! She’s early-”

“- but don’t panic, Binta said we have plenty of time from when my water breaks to when I actually start active labor.” She grabbed his hand, “Yes she’s early, but so were we. Calm down baby.”

T’Challa nodded, trying to remember anything Binta or Ramla had said over the last few months, but drawing blanks every time. “Ok, so what now?”

“First, I’m going to take a shower-”

“But-”

She held up her finger, silencing his protest.

“I’m going to shower before the serious contractions kick in, then we can talk about names. Binta said it’s all about staying comfortable until it’s go-time.”

He sighed, knowing he wouldn’t win the argument. “I’m coming with you.”

The two of them showered together and T’Challa kept a watchful eye on her as her face twisted in discomfort at the cramps coming from her womb.

“Are you sure this is ok?” 

Ashanti pulled him down and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“I’m sure.”

They finished up their shower and he covered her in cocoa butter before doing the same thing to himself. T’Challa then stripped the sheets from the bed and the two of them laid down, pulling up the list of names on their beads. They argued over a few of them and one was already on their list, but one of the names stood out to both of them and they finally came to an agreement just as Ashanti’s contractions intensified.

“Ok we should start timing them,” she said through gritted teeth.

T’Challa nodded and set the stopwatch on his beads before texting Binta and updating her on Ashanti’s progress. Ashanti climbed out of bed and started walking around, one hand supporting her lower back and the other on the underside of her belly. T’Challa felt helpless as he watched her face contort in pain again, and looked down at his beads.

“Twenty minutes.”

Ashanti labored in their room for another hour or so before the contractions reached ten minutes apart and they transported her to the royal birthing chamber.

The birth was a blur. All Ashanti remembered was the feel of the warm water and her husband’s solid body behind her. She knew there had to have been pain, but seeing her daughter’s face when they laid her on her chest made it all disappear. Her parents wept when they first saw her and her first cries were music to their ears.

“Does she have a name?” Ramla asked as Binta wiped the new mother’s forehead with tears streaming down her face, too.

T’Challa spoke without tearing his eyes away from his daughter, “Siyanda. Her name is Siyanda.”

After Ashanti delivered the placenta, Ramla and Binta helped the new family out of the tub and into the bed. Ashanti’s eyes could barely stay open, so she fell asleep and T’Challa took his daughter into his arms.

“Hello, my princess,” she opened her eyes and stared up at her baba for the first time, causing his breath to catch in his throat. She had his mother’s eyes.

A little yawn escaped her tiny mouth and he was amazed as though he had never seen a yawn before. Every little thing she did blew his mind and as she yawned again he realized she was waiting on him.

He chuckled before shaking his head, “Oh I know what you want.”

He quietly cleared his throat and began singing to her softly, watching as she drifted off to sleep just like her mother.

“Isn't she lovely?

Isn't she wonderful?

Isn't she precious?

Less than one minute old

I never thought through love we'd be

Making one as lovely as she

But isn't she lovely made from love?

Isn't she pretty?

Truly the angel's best

Boy, I'm so happy

We have been heaven blessed

I can't believe what Bast has done

Through us She's given life to one

But isn't she lovely made from love?

Isn't she lovely?

Life and love are the same

Life is Siyanda

The meaning of her name

Ashanti, it could have not been done

Without you who conceived the one

That's so very lovely made from love”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @ljstraightnochaser, @determinednot2fall, @dersha89

[a-blue-secret]

CHAPTER XXI

BACK TO MASTERLIST

Chapter XX | Chapter XXI | Chapter XXII

GENRES: royal au; fantasy au; magic au; friends-to-enemies-to-lovers; king!beomgyu, vizier!taehyun

PAIRING: taegyu

WARNINGS: a few swear words

WORD COUNT: 4.8k+

AN: A lot happens in this chapter, and if you aren't quite sure about something then please, please feel free to ask me! I'll be more than happy to clear up any queries you have :)

SUMMARY: Best friends turned enemies, Kang Taehyun has managed to trick Choi Beomgyu into his service, and to rule for a year and a day, until his youngest brother would be old enough to take the throne. Choi Beomgyu has no intention of being obedient however, and tries to thwart Taehyun’s orders at every turn. With a growing amount of distrust and lies within the court, will Taehyun manage to keep the kingdom of Gojongja from falling apart?

“I’ll send these to the goldsmiths, then,” Taehyun said as they walked back through the palace after their meeting with Yoongi. He rolled up the blueprints more firmly, holding them securely in his hands.

Beomgyu nodded. “I think it’s cool how the blueprints of the chandeliers still exist,” he said. “Also the tiny Latin engravings are a really amazing touch.”

“I know right?” Taehyun agreed. They rounded a corner, and Taehyun slowed down outside his chambers. “We can come up with some of our own words to engrave this time around. I’ll talk to Soobin on how to translate it, if you want.”

“That’d be nice.” Beomgyu stopped in front of Taehyun, rocking on his heels. “I guess this is where we part, right?” He inclined his head grandly and, looking around quickly, gave Taehyun a small peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, love.”

Taehyun’s ears flushed as he watched Beomgyu walk away. “Remember to sleep properly tonight!” he called, and Beomgyu turned around and gave him a thumbs up, walking backwards.

“You too!” he called back, a grin on his face.

Taehyun waved to Beomgyu one last time, before disappearing into his chambers.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

The next morning, Taehyun had been on his way to Yeonjun’s room to give Hueningkai back the marble when he was stopped by Chan. As soon as he saw Chan, he felt that something was decidedly off about the guard’s manner. He was still stoic and emotionless, but something felt… different.

“His Greatness has requested your presence in his chambers,” the guard said, in the typical, stony guard tone.

Taehyun nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said. “Alright. Come on, let’s go.”

The two of them walked through the hallways, and the strange aura surrounding Chan only grew. Taehyun glanced back at the guard, and he stiffened. Panic was clear on Chan’s face. That was what had felt strange. The guard, normally as emotional as a brick wall in public, was looking increasingly worried as they drew closer to Beomgyu’s chambers. Taehyun continued to walk through the halls, fear settling in his stomach.

They reached Beomgyu’s door, and Taehyun hesitantly knocked on it. He waited – half patient and half anxious – for Beomgyu to open the door. There was a muffled thump against the door, almost as if someone had put their full body weight against it. Taehyun's eyes widened, alarmed, and he hurriedly brought out his spare key for Beomgyu’s room, hastily unlocking the door.

“I– Beomgyu!”

He barely managed to catch Beomgyu as he fell limply through the doorway, almost face-planting onto the floor. It appeared that he’d been the one who’d fallen against the door, presumably after attempting to open it.

He was white as the marble which they’d just ordered for their new ballroom. His hands were shaking: not just trembling slightly, but full-on shaking without any sign of stopping. The dark circles around his eyes had gotten impossibly darker, with a purple tint also appearing around the edges of his lips.

Beomgyu struggled open his eyes, brown irises glinting painfully. “Tae– Taehyun?” he managed to croak, before passing out.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

The Royal Physician, despite working such a difficult job always surrounded by sick and nearly dying people, was a kind, smiley man whose presence immediately put Taehyun at ease.

Taehyun watched, fiddling with his fingers, as Sir Kim calmly and efficiently went through all the basic check ups on Beomgyu.

Beomgyu, after passing out cold in Taehyun’s arms, had been moved back into his room. Taehyun carried him and tucked him into his bed, while Chan hurried to fetch the Royal Physician. Occasionally, Beomgyu would stir weakly, see Taehyun sitting by his bed, struggling to give a smile to his vizier, before passing out again.

When the Physician had arrived, he entered with a calm, almost motherly presence, and Taehyun felt himself relax in relief.

“Alright, I’ll waste no time. Sir Taehyun, may I ask you a favour?”

Taehyun stood up, nodding his head.

“I’ll take his temperature, his pulse, and all those things, but I’ll need you to tell me his health history for me to figure out what it could be. Could you do that?”

Taehyun nodded fervently. Sir Kim smiled. “Good.” He turned to Beomgyu, reaching for his wrist. He didn’t flinch at how unnaturally cold the King’s wrist was, only frowning slightly.

“Taehyun, what was his condition like yesterday?”

Taehyun coughed, trying to get the words out smoothly. “He was quite pale. Not as pale as right now, but paler than he normally is. He just looked tired, really. Dark circles, tired walk.”

“No cough?”

“No cough,” Taehyun confirmed. “But he had dry eyes. He kept on rubbing them. And-” his voice faltered as the Physician leaned closer to Beomgyu. “Uh, Sir Kim, what are you...?”

“Just call me Seokjin,” the Physician said, placing his ear over Beomgyu’s mouth. “I’m just checking his breathing.” He pulled away, crouching down next to Beomgyu’s ear, clicking his fingers loudly. Beomgyu flinched slightly, even while unconscious. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out an incandescent light bulb which was still glowing. Taehyun widened his eyes: only a few people had light bulbs, with them only just beginning to be installed into the palace. Carefully, Seokjin opened one of Beomgyu’s eyes, moving the lightbulb closer towards him. Nodding to himself, he put away the bulb and addressed Taehyun.

“His breathing is stable. His reactions are good, if a little slow, but that can be chalked up to him being unconscious. His pupils are dilating as they normally would, which is good. But his pulse…” Seokjin blinked calmly, staring at Taehyun. “His pulse became more erratic the longer I stayed with him. When I’d first checked, it was almost normal, but soon picked up speed. Does Beomgyu have any fears that you know of?”

Taehyun looked around the room, seeing if there could be any potential triggers. “None of them are here,” he said finally. “I don’t know.”

Seokjin frowned. “May I try something?” He moved around to the other side of the bed, where Taehyun was standing, and sat the vizier down. “Stay close to Beomgyu for a moment,” he said. After a pause, he added, “And hold his hand.”

The Physician stepped away, as Taehyun confusedly obeyed.

“You know how to check for pulse, right?” Seokjin asked. “Place two fingers on the inside of his wrist until you feel a faint pulsing.” Once Taehyun had done that, he spoke again. “Now, I need you to measure his pulse for me. Every time you feel it, tap your foot against the floor. Tell me if you are able to correctly predict when the next pulse will be.”

Taehyun nodded, slightly confused by the Physician’s request, but carrying it out anyway.

In the beginning, it was difficult to tap his foot at exactly the same time as Beomgyu’s pulse. But eventually, it evened out, and Taehyun could do it easily.

“I can predict the next pulse now,” he said. “What does that mean?”

Seokjin frowned solemnly. He pulled up a chair to sit by Taehyun, and spoke very gently and seriously. “I believe that this is not an ordinary sickness. The dark rim around his lips is not from a stain that he received after eating, or some strange form of lipstick. Dark purple marks like that often symbolise something else, along with unnaturally pale skin. Coupled with the fact that his pulse only becomes regular when you are near…” he sighed. “This is very complex, I’m afraid. I have a few suspicions, but I’ll need to carry out a few more tests. Is that alright?”

“Of course. Will you need to be alone?”

“Yes, I will. If that’s alright.”

“That’s fine.” Taehyun looked at Beomgyu worriedly, gently squeezing the unconscious King’s hand. He stood up, bowing to Seokjin. “Thank you so much.”

Seokjin smiled. “It’s no problem at all. Let me just call my assistant, and I’ll get right on it.” He stood up with Taehyun, walking him to the door and opening it. Standing right outside was someone around Taehyun’s height, with a bright aura and smiley eyes.

“Hoseok, I’ll need your help with this,” Seokjin said, and Hoseok nodded. He bowed to Taehyun, before entering the room. “I’ll send a message to you once I can properly diagnose him,” Seokjin promised, and Taehyun nodded, giving a weak smile. Hoseok gave Taehyun a reassuring smile and small wave, before closing the door, leaving Taehyun standing in the middle of the hallway. Chan had just finished his duty, and there were a few moments where there was emptiness between his and Jisung’s shift, who was next to guard Beomgyu’s door. This meant that, for the moment, the hallway was empty. Taehyun stared blankly at the door, feeling so frustratingly useless. He couldn’t do anything to help Beomgyu, and it frustrated him. Hesitantly, he began to walk away, wringing his hands nervously. He didn’t know what to do, and it stressed him so much.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Taehyun had decided not to tell Yeonjun and Hueningkai. What was there to tell them, anyway? ‘Beomgyu has passed out and we don’t know what it is’? There was no point. To also prevent himself from blurting out everything to the spies, Taehyun kept his distance from them, not even setting foot within the corridor that they were staying in. If he saw Yeonjun in the hallway, he’d give him a tight nod, before walking away stiffly.

He couldn’t keep it up forever, though. Yeonjun eventually confronted him about his strange behaviour.

“Taehyun,” he called, following Taehyun into the library. “Hey, Taehyun. Why are you avoiding me?”

Taehyun stared at him blankly, before ducking down again to search the shelves. Yeonjun followed closely behind him.

“Taehyun. Hey, Taehyun, look at me. Why has our friendship taken five steps back? Are we back at the beginning? When I was just a suspicious foreign Lord coming to see you and Beomgyu?”

At Beomgyu’s name, Taehyun gave a choked cough, ducking his head even further. Yeonjun crouched down beside Taehyun and grabbed the vizier’s shoulders, forcing him to look at him.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You don’t have to keep anything from us. You know that, right? We’ll help and support you no matter what. I promise.”

Taehyun’s eyes were red and dry from how much he’d wanted to cry out of stress but had been constantly stopping himself from doing so. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just stressed. I’m not trying to ignore you, don’t worry.”

Yeonjun nodded, reassured. “That’s good. Oh, by the way, where’s Beomgyu? I don’t see him hanging over your shoulder.”

“He– he’s not feeling well,” Taehyun gulped. Yeonjun nodded understandingly.

“Oh dear. Well, tell him I hope he gets better soon.” Yeonjun stood up, offering Taehyun his hand. “You’re okay, right?” he checked.

“I’m fine,” Taehyun said, feeling a little calmer. He remembered something, and reached into his pocket. “Oh– here. I’ve been carrying it around for a few days now, but here.” He placed Hueningkai’s marble in Yeonjun’s hand.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll give this to Hueningkai to destroy, then.” He smiled at Taehyun. “Don’t be too stressed, okay? Remember, there are people you can talk to. Me, a master diplomat and secret room-finder, Hueningkai, a master poison detective, and Beomgyu, a master of evading his duties. We’re all here for you.”

Taehyun smiled weakly at Yeonjun’s attempt at a joke. “Thank you.”

Yeonjun grinned, before walking away. As he was leaving, a small messenger boy came running up to Taehyun.

“Sir Taehyun! Sir Kim has requested your presence in His Greatness’ chambers.”

Taehyun widened his eyes, and ran out of the library.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Seokjin and Hoseok were packing up their equipment when Taehyun burst in. Seokjin looked up at the vizier, who was out of breath from sprinting through the hallways with his eyes wide and anxious.

“Hoseok, you can go talk to Taehyun. I’ll finish tidying this.”

The assistant Physician walked towards Taehyun, who was staring anxiously at Beomgyu, who was still unconscious on the bed.

“How is he?” Taehyun asked.

“We’ve run various tests over the past couple of days, and the results should be back soon,” Hoseok said. “In the meantime, it’ll be perfectly fine for you to stay with him. His vitals, barring his pulse, are all stable, and we’re certain that what he has is not contagious. We believe that he’ll be alright.”

“As in, he’ll get better, or he won’t die?”

Hoseok hesitated. “As in, he most likely will not die in two weeks’ time.”

Even with how unstable the statement was, Taehyun felt himself relax. Any sort of confirmation that Beomgyu wouldn’t die, no matter how unsure the confirmation was, made him feel a little more reassured. He gave a small smile. “Thank you,” he said. “Does that mean I’m allowed to stay with him?”

“By all means, you’re welcome to stay with him,” Seokjin said, walking up to them. “In fact, we’d encourage it. He seems to become better in your presence.”

Taehyun smiled at the two physicians. “Thank you so much, both of you.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Seokjin sighed tiredly. “Two days’ worth of work, sitting beside a sick patient, and yet we have nothing to show for it. The results should be back soon, so we’ll get back to you as soon as we can. In the meantime, I’d encourage you to stay by His Greatness. Look, he’s even beginning to stir, and you’ve only just stepped into the room.”

Indeed, Beomgyu was beginning to gain consciousness. Though he had been incredibly still just moments before, his eyes were now struggling open, blinking in the light of the early afternoon.

Seokjin bowed. “Hoseok and I will be going now.”

Taehyun bowed as the two physicians left, closing the door. He hesitantly walked over to Beomgyu.

“Beomgyu?” he said softly. “How are you?”

Beomgyu blinked hard, squinting. “Taehyun?” he said croakily. Taehyun pulled up a chair beside the bed, holding Beomgyu’s hand as he opened his eyes fully. He couldn’t help the ironic smile that appeared on his face.

“Beomgyu, love, you look like shit.” He held Beomgyu’s hand gently, lifting it to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. “You have no idea how worried I was,” he said softly. “Sir Kim – the Physician – kicked me out of the room for two whole days, and I was literally going mad with worry. And when I was called back, I feared the worst, but it’s good to see that you’re alive and well– but not exactly well because you look like shit.”

Beomgyu smiled at Taehyun, recognising the similar words he had once said to Taehyun. “I see you’re not rambling as much as I did,” he said hoarsely. “Should I be offended?”

Taehyun only smiled, tears blurring his vision. He held Beomgyu's hand close, pressing it against his lips. “Did I mention you look like shit? Because you do.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Beomgyu said. He reached out with his other hand to wipe away Taehyun’s tears. “Why are you crying? Don’t cry. As you can see, I’m alive, and looking like shit.”

It was a weak joke, but Taehyun was smiling. “You idiot,” he said.

“I’m a bedridden idiot,” Beomgyu said. “So you have to be nice to me.”

“Alright,” Taehyun said, smiling tearily. “I’ll be nice to you.”

He held Beomgyu’s hand tightly in his own, before promptly breaking down into tears.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Beomgyu handed Taehyun tissues from his bedside table, sighing affectionately. He’d propped himself up on his cushions so he could sit up properly, his hand still being held by Taehyun.

Taehyun glared at him, eyes wet, as he rubbed at his nose with the tissue. “Don’t say anything stupid.”

“Hey, I wasn’t going to,” Beomgyu said, smiling. “But you know, it’s kinda weird how I’m the one who’s in bed with a throbbing headache and I can barely move my legs, but it’s you who started crying. But hey, I’m not gonna say anything stupid.”

Taehyun gave a watery scoff, swatting at Beomgyu’s arm. He balled up the tissues and threw them into the bin, coming back to sit at the chair by Beomgyu’s bed. Beomgyu stared at his red eyes, wiping away the tears still left in his cheeks.

“Wow, I never pinned you as an emotional lover,” he said amusedly.

“Shut up,” Taehyun sighed, an affectionate smile on his face. “It’s what happens when I don’t get enough sleep.”

“Speaking of sleep, it feels like I haven’t gotten any in about a hundred years,” Beomgyu said, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “My body feels so tired that I want to lay down forever. When will I be able to get up again?”

Taehyun looked at him oddly. “Those two statements contradict each other so much that it’s more than just a little weird. But you won’t be able to get up for at least a few more days. You’re not actually healed yet. You just managed to wake up.”

“That’s a shame,” Beomgyu sighed. “But it explains why I still feel like shit.”

Taehyun’s face grew more serious. “Where does it hurt? Are you actually hurt? Do you remember anything? When did this start?”

“Woah, woah, slow down, Mother,” Beomgyu joked. “Everything hurts, really. I just feel so… tired. Like, my actual bones are aching.”

“That’s not good,” Taehyun said worriedly.

“Nothing about this is good, love,” Beomgyu sighed, patting Taehyun’s hand. “But as long as you’re with me, I feel fine. Stay with me, okay?”

Taehyun tightened his grip on Beomgyu’s hand. “I will. I promise.”

Beomgyu smiled, sinking back into the pillows. He blinked slowly, as if struggling to keep his eyes open.

“You can rest if you want,” Taehyun said, noticing how sleepy Beomgyu looked. He began to rise from his chair. “It’s almost evening, anyway. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Wait,” Beomgyu suddenly said, refusing to let go of Taehyun’s hand. “Can you… can you stay with me? I know it sounds silly, but can you stay with me until I fall asleep? Just so I know that you still love me.”

Taehyun blinked, face softening into a loving smile. Beomgyu’s tone was completely sincere. While it hurt him to think that he’d hurt Beomgyu so much that he needed confirmation that the vizier would stay, it just made him all the more determined to love Beomgyu as best as he could. He sat back down in the chair, holding Beomgyu’s hand with both of his own.

“Of course.”

Beomgyu’s face melted into a relieved smile. “Sing me a song?”

“Oh my–'' Taehyun had to turn his head away so Beomgyu couldn’t see the endeared look on his face. The big doe eyes, the soft pout, the shy, gentle blush on his cheeks… yep, Taehyun was definitely in love with Beomgyu. He schooled his facial expression back into somewhat of a normal look, turning back to Beomgyu. “Honestly, why are you so cute? Yes, yes of course.”

He cleared his throat, thinking for a moment for what to sing. He decided on a traditional Gojongja lullaby, the words flowing out of his mouth.

Taehyun’s soothing, melodic voice filled the room, the melody sweet and gentle. Halfway through the song, Beomgyu’s eyelids began to droop, his head nodding a little. By the time Taehyun had just started the second lullaby, Beomgyu was already struggling to stay awake. In a few seconds, he was fast asleep. Taehyun finished the phrase he’d been singing, before gently releasing Beomgyu’s hands, tucking him gently into bed.

He got up and looked down at Beomgyu’s sleeping form, smiling fondly. He looked so serene and beautiful. Gently, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss onto Beomgyu’s forehead.

“Get well soon, love,” he whispered, straightening. He gave one more smile, before leaving the room, closing the door with a small click.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Taehyun whistled as he walked through the hallways. It was the next morning, and he was on his way to visit Beomgyu. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.

His duties. The new council was being formed that day. He needed to give them a run-down on how it all worked.

He thought for a moment, before shaking his head. He could get Soobin or someone to do that. He’d ask Heeseung to inform Soobin, or he could even do it himself later. Taehyun gave a bright smile, resuming his journey towards Beomgyu’s room. Right now, Beomgyu was priority. He’d take care of Beomgyu first, then see to the council. A happy King made a happy Kingdom, right?

He reached the door, and nodded at Seojung, who was on duty. The guard nodded back, knocking and opening the door for him. Taehyun stepped inside, softly calling out for Beomgyu.

“Beomgyu, love? How are you today?”

A pillow was suddenly thrown in his direction with huge force, and Taehyun ducked. The pillow ended up colliding with the metal coat stand, and promptly burst upon impact. Taehyun stared as the dust and feathers floated down, along with the torn pillow case. He stared at Beomgyu, frowning, before bending down to pick up some of the feathers across the carpet.

“That’s not a nice way to greet me, you know. Do you know how much that pillow costs?”

He received no comment in return. No playfully exasperated sigh at Taehyun’s scolding, no delighted laugh at his own mischief, nothing at all. Taehyun frowned, straightening, setting the feathers on a chest of drawers. He looked up at Beomgyu again, opening his mouth to say something.

He paused, taking another step forward. “Beomgyu?” He spoke more cautiously now. “Love, are you okay?”

In response, Beomgyu threw another pillow at him, which Taehyun managed to catch.

Something was definitely wrong with Beomgyu, now. He was sure of it. Before, Taehyun had thought that the glare on his face was merely a playful one, but the longer he stared, the more he thought otherwise.

Beomgyu’s gaze was cold and unfeeling, and sent chills down Taehyun’s spine. This wasn’t like the red-hot anger he’d seen on Beomgyu before, nor the playful, light mischief that normally lit up his face. No– this was harsher: a stony, unemotional glare that Taehyun had never seen on Beomgyu’s face before, and his eyes widened.

He was sitting upright in bed, eyes cool and hard. He narrowed his eyes at Taehyun, fingers curling into fists around the silk sheets. There was a loud ripping sound: Beomgyu had held onto the sheets so tight that there were now large rips inside them.

A growl sounded– deep and rumbling and almost sinister, and Taehyun almost took a step back in fear. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t Beomgyu.

Beomgyu’s hand reached out to his bedside table, fingers grasping the oil lamp. His gaze was still fixed on Taehyun. His knuckles were white; his skin was white; his eyes were pale and icy.

Taehyun didn’t know what to do. He took a step forward.

Beomgyu growled again, narrowing his eyes. Taehyun shut his eyes, not wanting to stare at him anymore. This wasn’t Beomgyu. His gaze, devoid of its usual warmth and bright emotion, wasn’t Beomgyu’s at all. And he hated it. It physically hurt him to see Beomgyu so unlike himself.

Something came whistling in his direction, and Taehyun immediately smacked it into the wall before it could hit his face, opening his eyes. The oil lamp lay cracked and broken on the floor, the glass shattered and fragmented, as oil leaked pitifully from the lamp, an uncanny shade of dark red spreading across the expensive carpet. Taehyun looked up at Beomgyu, breathing in sharply at the ferocious look he was met with.

Neither of them moved. Beomgyu, seemingly growing frustrated with this, picked up yet another cushion and threw it. His aim had been completely off: the pillow tumbled past Taehyun, far away from where he was standing. But still, that was enough for Taehyun. Beomgyu wasn’t acting like himself, and he needed to find out why.

Taehyun strode up towards the bed, ignoring how Beomgyu growled and snarled in an almost animalistic manner. He grabbed ahold of both of the King’s wrists to prevent him from lashing out.

“Beomgyu, listen to me,” he said in a low voice. “Beomgyu, stop this! Listen to me!”

Even though he was weak and bedridden, Beomgyu continued to thrash around, trying to escape Taehyun’s grip. Struggling, Taehyun held on tighter, preventing Beomgyu from hitting him.

“Stay– fucking– still– Beomgyu!”

Out of options, Taehyun scrambled onto the bed (still holding Beomgyu’s wrists) and sat down on Beomgyu’s legs, squeezing them together with his thighs. He was practically straddling Beomgyu, with the other still struggling underneath him.

And because this wasn’t his Beomgyu – his gentle, warm Beomgyu – Taehyun felt no remorse for what he was about to do.

“Choi fucking Beomgyu!” Taehyun roared, strangling Beomgyu’s wrists in an iron grip. “I command you to stop at once!”

Immediately, Beomgyu went limp in his grasp, eyes glazed over from the force of the command. Taehyun was breathing heavily from the effort it had taken to restrain Beomgyu. Slowly, cautiously, he clambered off the bed, falling into the chair beside the bed. He watched Beomgyu carefully, but he wasn’t doing anything. His eyes, glazed and unfocused, blinked drowsily. His head kept bobbing around. Beomgyu turned his gaze to Taehyun, curling his lips into a sleepy snarl, which still managed to make Taehyun flinch. Beomgyu tried to lift his hands, but it was obvious the command was preventing him from doing so. His eyes closed, then heavily forced themselves open again, before he shut them. His head dropped, and he was asleep again.

Taehyun watched him for a moment, before quickly retreating from the room. He’d decided it would probably be best to return tomorrow.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

The next day, Taehyun peered into Beomgyu’s room in a much more cautious manner, slowly poking his head in. Beomgyu was staring at him curiously, head tilted. Much to his relief, Beomgyu looked much more normal now, his eyes now alight with their usual warmth. But he wasn’t going to be rushing in just yet. Whatever the hell had happened yesterday: he did not want a repeat of that.

“What, have you turned into a snail or something? Honestly, you’re moving so slowly. Come in. I don’t bite, you know.”

Taehyun made a disbelieving noise, still hesitating to come into the room. “I don’t believe you, after what happened yesterday.”

Beomgyu frowned in a confused manner. “What do you mean? I don’t remember what happened yesterday. I’m pretty sure I was asleep the whole time. I told you before: every moment I spend with you is special, so I’m pretty sure I would have remembered if you came.”

Taehyun hesitated. Then he opened the door wider, stepping inside and closing the door. “I remember you saying that,” he said. He sat down in the chair beside the bed, automatically holding onto Beomgyu’s hand. “Do you really not remember anything from yesterday?”

Beomgyu shook his head. “I told you, I’m pretty sure I was asleep the whole day.” He pointed to his eyes excitedly. “See? I bet the darkness around them has gone down!”

The dark rims around Beomgyu’s eyes had not, in fact, gone down at all, but there was no way Taehyun was dampening Beomgyu’s excitement. He gave a weak smile, and leaned upwards to press kisses just under Beomgyu’s eyes. “Indeed, they have,” he said softly. He reached out with a finger to trace the faint purpleness of Beomgyu’s lips. “But it hasn’t gone down from around your mouth.”

Beomgyu’s lips formed a sad pout. “Aw, that’s a shame,” he sighed. But then his eyes lit up again. “Wait, if you give them a kiss, do you think it would go away?”

Taehyun laughed at how adorable Beomgyu looked, in complete contrast to the cold, emotionless Beomgyu which had been in his place just yesterday. It was relieving to see him back to being his normal self. “Come here, then.”

He pressed a soft, gentle kiss onto Beomgyu’s lips, smiling. This Beomgyu felt like his Beomgyu. So then what had happened yesterday? Why had his mood changed so drastically?

Taehyun listened attentively as Beomgyu rambled, but a small part of his brain had disconnected from the conversation. He had no idea why yesterday’s Beomgyu had been like that, and in truth it scared him. Though he’d been able to put aside his personal feelings last time to subdue Beomgyu, he didn’t know how he’d be able to cope if it kept happening. And if it got worse… he didn’t know if he’d be able to forgive himself if he accidentally hurt Beomgyu.

He had a sinking feeling that this bipolar personality of Beomgyu’s would carry on for a while, and he didn’t know how he’d be able to deal with it.

Unfortunately, Taehyun was completely right. The issue was an ongoing one, and wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. In fact, it was soon going to get worse.

taglist: @my-moarmy-heart @arohabangtan​ @a-fragmented-world​

[unproduciblesmackdown]

returning the favor: do you have any hcs re: winston, past or present, that you haven't expounded upon before or at length or just feel like talking about again. whatever you like

Thank You.......yeah idk really what hc's i've like "officially" described here that often lol, but then also there's that whole complication where i don't really ever come up with ideas & when asked anything i'm probably going [???] like, classics like "what do you like out of [broad parameter]" & it's like damn....i dunno. what ideas do i have about winsotn who i've thought about every day for > 2 yrs??? that's tough.....& Then the further chaos of like, when i do have hc's or w/e it's less discrete, concrete invented ideas & more towards the end of the spectrum that's like "well i kinda interpret this part of canon vaguely this way" &/or "i have This vague notion that i haven't solidified into a pretend fact or that i'm not at all committed to or take that seriously" where it's like, not only is this not really nailed down but it's basically free floating / i might have other ideas that would contradict each other lol. seems like a more concise list of Stats that are fully/exclusively my ideas is more exciting, but instead i can offer vague "i dunno / what ifs" based on vibes that i verbosely describe lmao, plus i'll forget a bunch of ideas i may have had i'm sure but you know. what else have i ever offered; never really trying to sell this material to otherwise uninterested parties or only make posts that guaranteed more than one person might enjoy, why would i be starting now; and ig if i write a bunch of stuff here & go "oh & i forgot like a half dozen obvious things" i can add on to it if it's a big deal.....plus it's always tricky with billions in particular being vague abt its own characters lmao, we only see [outside of work] personal stuff if it's going to become directly tied to [definitely at work] professional plotlines, or Maybe glimpse some character contextualizing things for the more central characters....side characters have more blanks to fill but also that means. just more that's blank lol & kinda a mystery of Up To Interpretation.....i figured one way to have any structure for this at all is to have a part looking at each winston involving episode's info. well anyways, after this meandering intro that kind of illustrates how i'm sure the rest of things will go here lol, i'm just gonna throw a bunch of stuff down in general. thanks again for the prompt to do so, b/c why not

really the one concrete discrete idea i have which isn't in the canon text is, of course: he is autistic

does he Know? idk. either way, think he's pretty aware of how he operates (& how he Can't operate), but if he doesn't know that's probably more for the "also: he's self loathing, which was basically textually implied" stuff lol. just mentioned it but i do always enjoy the tayston idea that taylor's talking abt in the past having it floated by a therapist/s or whomever that they could be autistic, them considering it but it not applying; winston going "hmm" & doing his own considering & researching & then maybe exclusively sharing the news w/taylor....but of course, maybe he's figured it out himself at some point before. i do think he'd figure it out himself though rather than anyone else directly suggesting it (maybe out here being diagnosed with "just the guy who sucks who we don't like / won't act right or normal" sort of usual experience) & i think, if he knows, he's not about to want ppl at work to know, b/c not as though anyone (but taylor & other quants) particularly seems to be impressed by his quanting proficiency, but he sure gets some validation/affirmation through that route (more re: that of course) and knows that ppl going "oh he's autistic so of course he's better at Doing Math / computer stuff as a like, mechanical efficiency sort of thing" or whatever. and the fact that taylor can interact with him / gives him some leeway to generally do his thing means he's kind of already got space to operate how he operates, see the start of this section....and idk. transitioning into the next section ig

just an Interpretation Of Canon thing here but, re: how these characters generally operate & what their reason is for being around doing stuff in the first place, i guess it's that winston does genuinely like to do & is interested in the math/coding stuff involved here, was also genuinely interested in working for taylor specifically (whatever The Hype specifically was), then you have taylor having the "despite your demeanor, your skills are superior" stance & appreciating what he can do & letting him do it by hiring him for real & all, & here we are, Q is for Quantitative, baby......he must find it rewarding enough to be getting to do this quanting stuff and also, the potential for validation when anyone recognizes he's good at it & by extension finds something about him good & wants him around to any degree

okay just that Episode By Episode stuff for a section here

3x03:

kinda extra room for interpretation b/c this was written as a one off character and reintroducing him in 3x09, written to be recurring, feels like it kinda offers a Soft Reboot for what we got here, where i guess how i take things is that we can suppose in both 3x03 & 3x09 winston's putting on a deliberate Performance to some degree based on what he thinks the potential employer wants to see, but it's also not completely fake / inaccurate either time, & like, maybe the 3x03 vibe wasn't a type of performance he'd only just ever put on for this axe cap interview, & even if it was deliberately bold maybe he was sort of thinking he Could bank on his value as a quant meaning he holds most of the cards (or can get away with acting like it)

building on that & as a More General point of interpretation again: think it's easy to suppose winston could've had an existence w/many elements of frustrations & disappointments & Rejection, but where like, he did figure out these areas of interest & proficiency that seemed to be a more positive force in his life, & leaned into them / focused on them further for it, & i could see him focusing on milestones / graduating from one thing to the next & conceptualizing like, well, if i just get to This point by working on This thing then i'll have it together & be able to move through existence more successfully, like, there's winston going into undergrad & kind of disappointed he's not having that good a time socially / feels like he's missing out / being left out still, but he can be like, well that's fine (: i'm totally fine abt it b/c i'm focusing on the Education & Experience here & when i'm entering the job market as an amazing quant anyone would want to hire then ppl will be seeing me in a positive light & things will fall into place / go great for me / i'll feel like i fit in & am doing things right within some structure. & i think maybe he Did have all those other job offers / opportunities & he was at least partly feeling a bit "objectively" confident, & also maybe just hoping he Could be that confident & that, you know, if he goes ahead & acts like that's the case, it could be confirmed / become true....anyways then obviously disillusionment time

since his outfits are introduced here: more "just how i'm interpreting canon" stuff in that i do just suppose he is mostly focusing on comfort & it'd kinda get in the way of things if he couldn't. flipflops might've been a statement piece but also i figure at least in part about the comfort / lack of much opportunity for restriction or ill fit or chafing texture or anything, same goes re: pants & shirts. interesting he likes to wear the patterned layers but doesn't really wear like, stripes or plaid ever. plus it could well be that Just A Tee is too informal unless you're the formalest of all by virtue of position, i.e. the ceo, but also we sure often enough see him wearing hoodies &/or multiple layers, like, maybe that's just for warmth or weight or what have you, always considering "what if it's about being self conchy as well (different way of saying self conscious)"

3x09:

so yeah with winston not having taken another job (at least maybe only like, temporary ones as these self contained gigs / just something to pay the bills) figure it's been a Depressive Period for him here lol & deliberately going on a journey of like self reflection / examination & going "haha yeah hated what i saw" is like, i don't think the self loathing is anything new, the confidence in 3x03 kind of an optimistic bandaid lol like well here's the new me as i understand / hypothesize / hope he could be, totally confident in being backed up by how valuable he is as a quant, then taylor kind of ripped that off and wound's open again but that wound was also not brand new or something he was unaware of / that didn't affect him before now

re: math meetup, i can see that being him presenting more evidence of his talent as a quant but also specifically going "see, i do this collaborative thing" to present this more conciliatory and cooperative approach to taylor, & am also taking it as evidence that he really does Enjoy math / coding stuff beyond it simply being a means to a professional end. i also like to think he has been / continues going to math meetup regularly, at least once a month, maybe every other week, and that it's this semi social event, like the relevant irl group you found back in the day that like, meets up for pizza before and drinks afterwards. i also like to think that, like, while he might come off as A Bit Much during said math meetup / just speak up frequently enough and often enough with some insistence lol, people Are there to meet up about the math and his contributions Are valued despite if his delivery/approach isn't always endearing or whatever. and even if he's not really popular / warmly embraced in the more [socializing event] bookends of the meetup, he's perfectly tolerated, and there's even a person or two or three (also regular attendees) who do vibe with him enough to like, invite / even want him to sit with them / talk with them outside that Math Setting. math meetup pals, maybe he doesn't meet up with these people outside these events but maybe they have each other's contacts and sometimes text. not these intimate personal relationships, but still something real and positive and refreshing. it'd be nice if math meetup could kinda be like what he hoped for from quanting, this way his math lets him "qualify" to access this group / activity, his aptitude "making up for" perceived lack of interpersonal / social charm & charisma & what have you, & having some reliably friendly people around even if of course that's not on its own going to mean he's totally socially fulfilled / not often lonely or anything. hc: he's often lonely & not totally socially fulfilled

he does, of course, want to work for taylor specifically, as long as they want him to, and this is sort of his second chance to find validation through working as a quant lol. think that yeah sure winston likes validation in general, who doesn't but also of course he's maybe a bit Above Average sensitive to / keen on it, but he'll also care about Affirmation if it's coming from people whose opinion he particularly values. think that it's easy to suppose he's also especially sensitive to taylor's assessments here thanks to the fact they really hit a (raw) nerve with him like, sure is the potential to get caught up in feedback loop city & say, have a few months mired in self loathing & an especial lack of certainty & confidence, if someone's kinda gone "i hate your self hatred" lol, but he also Did have this especial interest in / high opinion of taylor before that 3x03 interview, & so that's what continues to be part of it here

but then also interpreting that second 3x09 scene as like, he Does independently Know His Value as a quant and yknow not only has his pride but also can't and isn't going to first and foremost focus on trying to socially perform being peak Accommodating and Appealing here lol. but he still cares about what taylor thinks, wants to work for/with them, and i think it was Mutually Appreciated in the last scene that there was Mutual Effort to cooperate w/the other, giving him a Cue instead of just being mad & obfuscating it unless & until giving up on him completely or w/e is Constructive. interpreting winston as someone who sure can be a bit petty on purpose, especially in the face of some wounded pride (where he seems to take pride in his quant abilities & maybe not much of anything else: see the self loathing otherwise), but isn't really one to be deliberately antagonistic, especially not towards, yknow, the person he specifically wants to appeal to, but he also knows he can come off as grating whether inadvertently or not, so he might be testing the waters a little as well

3x11

he's using headphones even though no one else is in the room, that's a preference / he may also just like to block out other sound in general, as there's no audio of [winston's music faintly playing as / before he takes off his headphones] or indication he paused anything. does he like metal, what with the yngwie malmsteen reference? maybe, but that might just be a Billions Reference thing that isn't meant to indicate much / anything abt the specific character. i don't have any hcs about it anyways besides "okay" if so

first time we see his watch, it's not the calculator watch until s5 but i am a fan of said calc watch....gotta suppose it could represent him being here for the math of it all, what with how fancy/expensive watches are kinda the whole like status / power play thing, and a calculator watch is, afaik, not expensive, these casio calculator watch listings i'm seeing are all priced like, $15 to $25 range. so.

2nd scene is the first time we see sleeves pushed up, a frequent choice, maybe if he's focusing sleeves against forearms / Wrists & Hands can be bothersome. also not the first time he puts his hands in his pockets but i think that's a deliberate choice for winston's sort of Default Pose, equate it to the choice to have jared hang / hold on to his backpack straps.

guess he can also be a bit petty / rude / grating on purpose if ppl are getting in the way of his mathing / coding or otherwise thwarting it, at least probably taylor can relate / sympathize what with them wanting to Get It Right / being bothered if people get it wrong but could've avoided this

noticing all the caffeine and the fact he maybe didn't leave the basement / was powering through that project All At Once....just noting that down as a potential Approach, wanting to not interrupt focus &/or bear down & keep a fairly intense pace until it's finished / stay in the zone or what have you

definitely doing some deliberately cocky Testing / pushing back / amicable power struggle with taylor there, confirming he does have leverage due to that quanting ability after all, Despite His Demeanor / not being "sweet"

by this point definitely consciously kinda wants taylor to rail him.

4x03

i have no concrete hc's of instances inspiring winston to think he's "always seeing the future" but god i wish he did. he's right a lot though, maybe he just notices as much lol

talking mostly to taylor here, then concluding with "i only thought it but didn't say it; doesn't count....damnit." like he wants Their validation thanks, even if recognizing his Win here still wouldn't help them either way....also first time we see him w/coworkers for real, he's really freely Interacting.....time to go ahead and say he'd like to be work friends / at least have friendly interactions at work, might be a bit desperate for such positive social interactions, especially in this environment where he thinks the "objectively" good thing about him is most relevant, but it's cringe & fail (&/or vulnerable to Attack) to outright Want something, like validation / affirmation / a positive response or a simple "yeah you're right" "positive" response

first Space Shirt, followed by ones that are like, also &/Or Sci Fi Shirts. does he like space? i guess so

he's autistic

4x08

here & in 4x11, we don't know how he's gotten this info about taylor re: the arc w/their dad or with axe cap, but he's apparently mused on it on his own like this & isn't just quoting what someone else told him about how taylor must feel about xyz & how that might apply to the situations at hand, even though (unless he cassandra'd it) he wouldn't've had that much cause to suppose it'd definitely be relevant to have ideas about how taylor feels / is navigating a situation & why, maybe he just likes to be prepared like that / stay in the loop but yknow, maybe he's just also interested in them as a person beyond what's most immediately relevant to him doing quant stuff for them

he's already done the sort of kicking himself / wincing / apologizing or agreeing he fucked up an exchange thing before but, the genuine disappointment / momentary discouragement in it always lol....self loathing guy

love how he has these little like, clarifying explanations of things. "total control of the instrument," "always seeing the future," "because i win".....he's out here wanting to communicate to connect & to be understood, not so much as a potential for a power play / status climb and thus a conflict.....can see ppl who are used to / Do see interactions in that light to interpret winston yelling about having won as a like, rubbing it in people's faces show of superiority thing, but pretty sure he's just excited and wants a high five

4x11

having talked about the fact none of the desks in the tmc hq main floor seem to be winston's (& knowing that Could just be wroland not being reliably available to be in the bg of shots lol, analyzing s4 shots for some Consistently Empty desk) but it is fun to also consider that maybe tmc Could've had a secret extension in that that quant haunt in the basement was kept. a little more furnishing and it could be pretty chill, even though the lack of windows might not always be ideal. where's he sit!

also the whole "guy who'd be the first one smothered" moment like, guess i could've mentioned it in 3x03 more but yeah my Headcanon here is that winston maybe has a master's degree, not a phd though (him saying "50 phds" in 3x11 i think was meant to differentiate from him on both points, aka he's 1 guy, without a phd) & this is his first "real" job in any field. b/c i'm guessing like, people are here to get Paid, but as mentioned w/the watch (& just how winston acts in general, he doesn't really seem like he's raring to show off / really take advantage of having money or anything) it doesn't seem like he's, like, the "exceptionally focusing on personally making as much as possible" guy, and lauren's remark seems to emphasize / place the context on winston just not having like, savings from prior salaried years at a job or anything, more of a practical matter, maybe he's out here hoping for some more financial security, also they are all living in nyc, so. on that note, maybe he has an okay apartment but like, not without problems / not absolutely ideal, but it's okay. this would just be Convenient as an hc also lol

don't think the monologue was completely memorized, but it wasn't completely off the cuff either, he'd maybe been brainstorming scripts in his head / had some particular parts solidified word for word, but also hardly think he was guaranteed planning to deliver an admonishlogue at all, seems like it was some important factors that he was just kind of already irritated, nobody was listening / people Were social pressuring him to drop it or not interested in entertaining like "yeah i think you should talk to taylor about it" at all, think it was clear that talking to others was only going to lead to them telling him to drop it / trying to not have anyone say anything to taylor, and then that taylor just jumped in, which i hardly think he was hoping for

always Something that we can expressly see winston moving to sit down in that soon to be empty meeting room as everyone else is clearly filing out lol, like, can see how he might not be able to go "well, back to work" immediately and need some irritation / feeling like shit / guess who just got yeeellllllllllled aaaaaat to burn off, might need some time to absorb "well i guess i just deferred so no bonus as was probably expected," but can also suppose that maybe when winston gets majorly Shut Down he has shutdowns. saying all of four words in the wake of things, otherwise the fact he has this approach of tensing up, not talking at all, kind of just holding onto eye contact as his last way of "properly" participating in the exchange w/o bailing entirely, while also outwardly withering, like clearly these kinds of moments are pretty significantly affecting....feels like he could find it difficult to talk much, or at all, in the wake of some / need some time to recuperate a bit & have some distance & quiet & not just jump back into work like he's having a fine and normal time. sometimes pondering like, not only those notions like taylor insisting winston not be Interrupted when he hasn't technically started talking yet (giving him the buffering / latency time) but also like, fun kinda imagining them sitting across from each other having a texting conversation....or times winston would rather have an exchange via email......or make use of the sticky notes......or just have taylor talking to him and picking up on his nonverbal responses

winston's very Not present in tmc meetups / get togethers this season & again we know that this could be because his actor wasn't very available but it's still the case In Canon that there's only so many tmcers and they're all seeing each other outside work / market hours for varyingly formal or informal purposes & he's never included. & simultaneously hold the hc's that he could be choosing not to go or he could just never be invited in the first place l o l.....in either of these situations the reason for declining to go or being excluded could be up to "b/c other ppl don't like having him around" and idk, best case scenario is he doesn't want to go for some other reason, but he acts pretty okay with the All Hands meetups we do see / when in meetings with the other named employees he's pretty raring to interact with them, so :/

4x12

i do like to think it's fun to imagine What If Taylor Had A Phonecall With Winston Before This Monologue; someone once told me that explaining is an admission of failure, i'm sure you remember, i was on the phone with you, sweetheart.....just them both having a more sympathetic approach with each other and a sort of dialed back reconciliation, tbt 3x09, without an audience / roomful of other people

do think that his wearing a tmc logo tee into axe cap hq was a deliberate Statement Piece, like wearing flipflops into axe cap in his true first time being there lol

first time we see the backpack, & the headphones (in this season), like the point you (nothingunrealistic) made about the backpack possibly kind of exerting pressure / compression in a Sensory Way. let's see it again

as good a time as any to bring up how it's such a consistent pattern that it Must be a choice that winston smiles in this direction :/ and grimaces / winces / frowns this way :\ but a choice of the actor of course, was it ever a conscious thing on winston's end, would not put it beyond the realm of possibility he's ever consciously thought of stuff like "even if words fail me(tm) i Gotta hang on to eye contact".....i'm thinking of times he is smiling hard enough that you just gotta do it more symmetrically, like here in 4x12

5x01

he likes bagels

think that this could've been another case of "people who are used to interactions used for conflict / power plays / stepping on other people to status climb (axe cappers in general, maybe team ben having to be extra prone to be on the lookout for these strategies when they're more often on the receiving end of them) misinterpreting winston socializing as means of connection (wanting to talk about the common work thread / interest with coworkers)"

even if for some reason quants were cold shouldering axe cappers like, a sound strategy even if team ben are worthy exceptions. Winston Can Get Petty When People Blame Quants Talking About Being Quants For Axe Cappers Harassing Tmc & also when in the process of doing so everyone's like "also you're smarter than us but no you're not, any math quants could do fundamental analysts could do better" like, winston getting more deliberately antagonistic when ppl are going after his Math Aptitude / value as a quant when that's his "objective" point of pride & confidence & possibly like haha self loathing can't get me here

5x02

winston's decimal points being more precise here i think indicates that the show is not taking the stance of "yeah the quants are just any old analysts with an attitude of superiority" lol

do think he selected that particular seating placement b/c it's like, hey furthest away from axe cap, most aligned with taylor's desk & angled towards it, perfect.....what a letdown

guess this episode suggests he and mafee have chats sometimes, and winston maybe confides At All Sensitive Info w/the guy? bold

always just smh like well thank god we were given this subplot where winston was a plot device really for dollar bill's arc or whatever............what a gift

5x03

just noticing as always how winston is the one person saying they should go for it vs the other two's skepticism / trepidation, and taylor decides to go for it.....they do value his input / trust his judgment

i am also noticing how often winston, as the math guy who doesn't really fit in w/ the whole axe / caply approach & style, has this role in giving taylor these crucial opportunities to pursue their own direction rather than be mired down in the misery of axe cap determining everything....3x11 & his algorithm letting them break completely away from axe cap, 4x11 & his admonishlogue making some Points & then next episode taylor does decide to abandon the revenge jag & says they were wrong & they're sorry....5x03 & this nlp strategy plotline being the first thing taylor could actively pursue for tmc after 2 eps of being dragged painfully through axe cap nonsense, & the fact this, in the next episode, leads to the Impact Fund idea / mase carb

5x04

see that last point

5x05

guess that until confirmed, The Glances being significant is a Headcanon Interpretation lol. anyways i do like taylor giving him these discreet, nonverbal cues as a very deliberate method of communication titrated betwixt them

oh right and an Age Cue here, before that was nailed down i think i already hc'd winston as either the same age as, or a year older than taylor, and that's still true lol, think that's how it goes with the timelines (taylor's being kinda uncertain, and winston's as well, having prior just kinda gone "well if taylor's 22 when they show up as the typical post undergrad age, and each season spans approx a year, and maybe winston spent just a year or two post undergrad getting a master's b/c nothing nails down how long it would take & he could've kinda been ahead of the curve as it were, he could be, say, 23 thru 25 in s3 when he shows up, to taylor's Maybe 23" as the Idea)

just wants to work for taylor as long as they'll have him, but would also like to be openly valued / affirmed on a pretty basic level lol...

one of those matters that's like, i do think that this is what the material is Trying to convey but it's not concrete / explicit, in that i think winston somewhat Likes rian right off lol like. i mean he's also still annoyed on principle, this is maybe his replacement & that stings that it's even a possibility & of course he has reason to want to feel like "oh well this person Clearly sucks" lol, but then there he is trying to scope out the situation & get immediate intel & it's like, here's this fellow 20something you immediately think is pretty (the mental comparison to an A lister as a dunk, lmao) & you see her being perfectly friendly with your nice coworker you're also friendly enough with, that's one degree of separation, now here he comes talking about how cool & epic & smart & capable she is, again makes sense he's still first & foremost bothered by the situation & has cause to just be more jealous about how well everyone immediately thinks of her (see: winston making bad first impressions that may never be undone, the fact other coworkers were probably never going around openly impressed with / praising him after meeting him for 5 sec, or like, ever) but i suppose this immediate underlying sense of attraction / affinity hits in that First Sighting as well

love that we see the feet up on the desk show of confidence again, very funny & glad it's back.....a tool in his arsenal for when he's Very Bothered But (unsuccessfully) Acting Very Unbothered / when he's trying to pitch for his employment lol

when did he have a first gf? perfect time for an hc.....feels like it'd have been like, idk, older high schoolers at the youngest, that kind of emotional commentary....or in college. sometimes pondering the idea like, what if he had a bf first actually.....or not, & Feeling A Way around other guys sometimes like, hmm guess i think this guy is pretty cool &/or i'm kinda like "god i wish that were me" about, then some more noticeable Tension as he's older even if he can't really discern the reason b/c this person's pretty nice & cool actually, hmm. then one day you're doing hw together with a while for code to compile & Oh Hey Lol

meanwhile think clearly rian defuses the Reason For Rivalry (and also clearly immediately likes him / interacting with him & you know, outright sticks up for him & in this significant way) & then when they connect over Math it's all coming together very outright like Oh Hey Lol 😳

also he Gets Right Back To Work easily enough, & like, i think already there's a deliberate performance of "i'm now totally unbothered," but he's just pretty good at shaking things off apparently. & he kind of has to be, to not bail completely or else tamp down his own personality / avoid interactions, but you know. plus that like, he may get irritated when his pride's wounded but around here people can have a whole crisis & arc about it if their egos are bruised in the slightest, so like. pretty blasé

5x06

this isn't really any hc or Interpretation by any stretch but this is the first time we've seen winston pull that particular attitude in that second scene with rian and it's beautiful.....if something's bothering him he's so often like outright indignant but this is like, i'm Bothered but i'm being so dignant about it, for like 4 sec

also the bright green hoodie / bright, high contrast, geometric blockbuster tee is so Vivid but like, always noting how he wears relatively colorful outfits. fun to go "maybe this one's deliberately extra eye catching b/c of this new crush" lol

5x07

the difficulty in reading that much into things when the lack of sobriety could be making any & everything an outlier, & can't even really read into "apparently down to take stimulants (beyond caffeine) on a dime" b/c well, so is everyone else, so that this situation can unfold, we knew he had a crush on rian (or i guess we didn't, but this is pretty direct about it), we knew he likes validation, taylor Knows him well enough that it's not just like "oh he's acting weird? well that's winston for you" to them, which we also knew but it's fun to confirm further lol

and now for some more free floating / general concepts

family? i have no idea. feel like he either has no siblings or several but yknow, anything's possible. we know what he's like Now, don't think he got that solid self esteem / self confidence as an emergent quality from [everything that happened to him before 3x03] & don't suppose he has this like, rock solid close warm familial relationship of understanding & unconditional love & support w/whoever he grew up with, parents or siblings or whoever he lived with....like, the relationship/s could be Fine but you know, still not all that close

i don't think he was every completely friendless (or if he was, it didn't last Too long) in terms of like, throughout school maybe he had some pals, no amazing close [fingers crossed Like That] ones where someone had like, grown up as his next door bestie and they did everything together & knew everything about each other, nothing all that close, but he had people to sit with at lunch or what have you, even if at times like, the table nobody else really sits at but the people who don't have anywhere else to sit lmao. maybe some slightly closer friendships here & there, but people often kind of got subsumed into other friend groups that he wasn't otherwise a part of / otherwise just kind of gradually distanced again...but also possible he had perfectly amicable occasions of like, maybe only having a class or two with certain people, not striking up intimate friendships but hitting it off well enough.........like, winston's out here Not having been stomped down into suppressing his personality all the time, he's still fairly earnest & forthcoming & eager to connect, just sort of vaguely going for "he maybe have always had this element of discouragement & disappointment re: socializing / connecting / forming relationships / sometimes just being accepted on a basic level, but he also didn't have his spirit totally extinguished either" although there's also the room for stuff like, yknow, him Holding Out Hope like "well nobody likes me now / i'm unhappy but maybe once i'm in college [gets to college & still isn't having a great time] okay well once i Enter The Workforce" lol. you know

but it's also like, hardly think he's Only Just Now experiencing the [winston: ___ everyone: get his ass] type stuff & pushback & punishment & disdain over not really doing anything but people hate his style & vibe, & feel like there's also still room for like, yep wow got burned sometimes / having had some pretty negative experiences......we do have to end up in this place where, you know, 3x03 happens and he doesn't just go "guess finance isn't for me!" & dust himself off & go get some Guarantees from some tech firms, & instead he's Really Glad [Taylor] Called & hasn't taken some other more desired job between 3x03 & that call & is immediately like "good news: i do hate myself" so like, can't see him having just thrived his way to this point....evidently not all dating relationships have been just epic highs & victories, maybe he has those math meetup pals now & maybe idk there's other people he's in sort of in contact with, maybe people from college / grad school or the like, still not that close, figure he's generally been lonely like, overall, despite regularly enough seeking out / striving for connections

oh yeah speaking of, the idea that he has a cat maybe lol, in part simply for company, a little guy that lives in your house / apartment....but also maybe he doesn't

always just some general notions like, also idk maybe he engages in hobbies, talks to people through that just like with math meetup....talked about the Embroidery idea, got that computers/programming connection, was thinking like, idk fuck it amateur photography, develop your own film, maybe he took a class in college or high school or something, same with like, maybe he plays a musical instrument, said "the cello, why not" about that as an early [shrug] idea lol. he does like space, maybe he does Anything with that....rip to any astronomy clubs In Nyc like, guess you're not seeing shit, but. 4x11 au, after deferring his bonus he goes to some cool cinematographic celestial occasion like taylor & the sea glass fish carousel lmao. taylor catches up & they have their [i'm sure you remember, i was on the phone with you, sweetheart] exchange lol.....except also not, b/c you wouldn't really want to have Parallels with m/any moments ft. wendy & taylor :/

recalled like a particularly casual / throwaway idea about like "lol what if he was somewhat thalassophobic" in part b/c once actor william dropped that lore abt himself in an interview, but. could have somewhat some other phobia/s. or not really any! what a world

maybe sometimes he's out here like, single & ready to Fuck like, focusing on just hooking up w/people sometimes rather than really looking to date at the juncture, although it could both be true like, he'd Like to be dating but also doesn't really currently want to do all the Putting Himself Out There & such of seeking it out / trying to consciously navigate it, but sometimes it's more manageable like, just wanting to have sex. looking out for himself when he can & how he can lol

speaking of, some vague sexy hcs

gets pegged

especial fan of Tongue Against Tongue texture, enjoys some Grounding elements to avoid being overwhelmed / narrow things to the more relevant sensory input at hand, like the weight/pressure of a partner leaning / lying against him / holding him tightly, if he's overwhelmed in a good way / kinda got some sensory overflow in a good way he might cry during sex In A Good Way lol, took some time maybe in his Personal Sexual Experience to figure out some general differences in "what he doesn't like at all" or "what's off the table / too unpleasant for him at some times but Not necessarily at all times & might be completely enjoyable sometimes," like, am i willing to perform oral sex, am i willing & Enthusiastically so, is that way too much actually, it can be all of them at varying times....maybe in more everyday general situations he refrains from stims in front of others unless stressed enough, but while having sex with someone especially if at all nervous it's like, there can be this transition between repressing stims & being more unfiltered / uninhibited where they kind of build up & then come through in kicks only to be reined back in, either like, he simply does go for a more reined in approach the whole time or anyone else is willing to ride this out with him / he kind of has the time & space to figure out more of a flow, in which case he might still stim but you know, not as though people aren't used to stims in this situation, i.e. reacting to stimulation with movement & vocalization is at least expected & it could once again be like "well he's a bit weird with it but hey" lol or you know, not that some partners can't be understanding or have had experience w/similar partners. hardly make or break but this can be a vulnerable interaction here / hard to shake the self consciousness & sense of "i Do have to filter myself and act The Right Way" all at once just b/c you'd want to

hey and let him sing karaoke or something lmao, winston is as Dramatic as he is, he would give a performance. work in a way to let everyone who sings sing around lol, could throw in some Affectations so that it's like yeah winston can sing without having to be like "wow winston, when'd you become a trained broadway performer" lmao. imagine. which reminds me of the time will joked about like, oh yeah winston Gets That A Lot re: people recognizing he looks like the guy in deh, aka will roland....the limitations of "this is set in real nyc" including occasional references to recent / popular shows, fuck it maybe will roland does also exist in the billions universe. well anyways it would be fun. the karaoke anyways, and that he'd give a top tier Performance whether or not people are first and foremost enjoying his technical / artistic skill at the art of singing, it'd at least be personality infused and engaging

taking it way back to the ideas about winston's social misadventures in general, i'm sometimes considering for fics i never end up writing if he might have some like, misgivings / anxieties about like, is this person i Like acting like they maybe Like me back as some kind of elaborate joke, & maybe the caution comes from experience like you know, classic over the line "pranks" like asked out As A Joke, kissed As A Dare that he wasn't aware of, think there could be like, would be Friendship / friendly acquaintanceship experiences in there where such "pranks" / "jokes" / "messing with him" (and not in a good way) could happen, or even just you know, more Spontaneously, don't even know this person & he's treated as a joke for other ppl's entertainment, realizing at the time or retrospectively like oh maybe i was more being bullied then having any positive social interaction / getting to feel at least "included" or what have you, like, the idea of getting to hang out with a group as The Funny Guy, but he's had these experiences getting to hang out with a group & realize it's b/c they thought he was funny / Amusing in a laughing At him, not with him way, which is easy also b/c winston isn't really out here trying to be funny that we've seen lol. only realizing he was still being excluded after some time / distance from the situation, or escalating open hostility / just more blatant meanness / over the line shit from some people, maybe some stuff that just immediately feels shitty but he figured was just like, well idk, maybe that's normal & still friendly, maybe it also felt more outright embarrassing / demeaning at the time but it's like haha yeah you got me :'] at the time just to save any face lol.....possible unexpected / spontaneous amicability in his socializing history, but also shittiness, whether it's coming at him all at once or he's kind of holding out hope like, well, i just keep at it / have a Friendly attitude here and surely i'll make friends b/c if people didn't like me At All why are they talking to me / letting me be here at all.....

always kind of pondering Fashion Variation, we haven't seen it but it could be possible, musing on "what would he think Looks Good On Him / how does he feel capable of like, dressing for romantic success or what have you lol" like, was the vivid 5x06 outfit anything, cue the drawing like, a bralette & short shorts is shaking it up and could be a Felt Cute outfit and could also be comfortable enough....not always That much room in men's(tm) fashion before you start having to be aware of [Gender] and dunno that winston out here has had the inspiration / motivation / opportunity to consider / try out / explore but hey. what are we here for

just remembered that post like "uhh i just saw a guy crying in the library & then his phone alarm went off & he stopped crying, opened his laptop & started typing / it's called time management" lmao like winston's not out here having the Most amazing time, he could have such Time Management experiences of like, letting it out some on purpose but then reining it right back in, and/or just like some spontaneous paroxysms of crying for a minute or two more unexpectedly in a "do you ever [experience a tiny inconvenience] & realize the thread by which you're hanging on is quite thin" way or otherwise, you know, oops experienced this frustration & now i'm crying over it, or idk, just feeling a bit more vulnerable for whatever reason & something has unexpectedly plucked some emotional string attached to another string attached to another & the resonance = i'm crying now ig. he can't be Thriving out here & i don't think he's all about having such a stranglehold on emotions that he's like oh tf i Never cry (aside from having sex, in a good way)

although speaking of like, emotional repression, maybe he's out here just "good at" compartmentalizing some experiences lol in that "well anyways, back to work" way & stuff like, sure he knew he was risking it in 4x11 but it also did not seem to affect his dynamic with mafee at all lmao like wow.....

think that him not really having anything on his work desk is a choice / preference but also am not sure that that really applies to anything else lmao. what if he had a little plant. that'd be funny

oh yeah and the idea that winston might literally have like prophetic dreams & they're just kind of a nuisance to him but sometimes they can be plot devices in fics (that don't exist) about him kissing people

well i'm just calling it a night there lol but like, it always feels Lacking writing out hc's like, plenty of ideas but also hardly any, and yet the fact that other individual ideas are so Vague / casual that it wouldn't be like "oh i gotta share this via post or manifesting it some other way" so then it feels like, oh no, if i don't list absolutely Everything on something that's specifically a list of hc's, i can never talk about whatever gets left out......and just that like, i ought to have a bunch of really specific, concrete, unique Factoids about winston here to be of any interest but hey lmao. that hypothetical set of concepts is never gonna happen, & the Ultimate Comprehensive List Of Everything I've Ever Pondered Re: Winston is also going to be difficult lmfao (not as though that's what you've asked in the first place) but you know, we took a swing at things here & covered some ground & the thinking about & talking about winston never ends, & this isn't really a post meant to have broad appeal / if you're not already having fun reading vague musings about the quant then i'm sorry you're reading this after having read all that and gone "wow, i'm disappointed" lmao but hey, weird choices made to bring you to this point......also god knows plenty of hcs are more filed away under specific like [Tayston], [Benston], [Riawin] sort of things (lol, [Mafon]) b/c on the one hand, i find it easier to kind of think in Scenarios and the details particular to the "scenes" therein, but i am also not good at thinking of those scenarios! out here operating on vibes, he's autistic and wants to kiss taylor (also now rian but that's kinda right in canon, not just my head) and that's really the crucial info here

[ardellian]

I. Am very ANGRY.

For all the trans people who read this - you are amazing, you are brave, and fuck everyone who dares to tell you how you are allowed to express who you are.

Anyway I went through JKRs essay on trans issues and tried to deconstruct it because a prominent Swedish political figure just supported it and these are EXACTLY the kind of arguments I have had to counter and it SUCKS. I will have to sit through this shit being thrown at me again not far from now. So this is... venting, I guess. 

This is going to be long and if you want to understand it I guess you should read what she’s written; it’s on her homepage. But also don’t read it because it will probably make you sad and angry. It’s transphobic and ignorant, and just, please, stay away from it if you know that will make you feel like shit. I’m also going to be quoting her in the text below, so I’m putting it under a cut. 

M’kay. 

First, what even is she trying to say with this essay? She says she’s worried about the “new trans activism.” What exactly is worrying with this new activism? Well, she doesn’t say it outright, but it seems to be that she believes it’s getting too easy to transition. That the “rigorous process of evaluation, psychotherapy and staged transformation” is being eroded, and this is bad.

Through the essay I can find two main arguments she has to support this claim.

1. Cis youth (in particular cis girls) will be fooled into to thinking they’re trans. 

The UK has experienced a 4400% increase in girls being referred for transitioning treatment. Autistic girls are hugely overrepresented in their numbers. 

Littman mentioned Tumblr, Reddit, Instagram and YouTube as contributing factors to Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria, where she believes that in the realm of transgender identification ‘youth have created particularly insular echo chambers.’

She also supports this idea by sharing a personal history of being uncomfortable with gender roles, and confusing that with gender dysphoria: 

“The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. I struggled with severe OCD as a teenager. If I’d found community and sympathy online that I couldn’t find in my immediate environment, I believe I could have been persuaded to turn myself into the son my father had openly said he’d have preferred.” 

“Fortunately for me, I found my own sense of otherness, and my ambivalence about being a woman, reflected in the work of female writers and musicians who reassured me that, in spite of everything a sexist world tries to throw at the female-bodied, it’s fine not to feel pink, frilly and compliant inside your own head; it’s OK to feel confused, dark, both sexual and non-sexual, unsure of what or who you are.” 

3. A concern that fake trans women invading women’s spaces would make “natal women” less safe:

“A man who intends to have no surgery and take no hormones may now secure himself a Gender Recognition Certificate and be a woman in the sight of the law. Many people aren’t aware of this.”

“When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman – and, as I’ve said, gender confirmation certificates may now be granted without any need for surgery or hormones – then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside. That is the simple truth.”

Okay. 

Let me make an observation here before I try to counter these points. She’s having very different problems with the ease of transitioning for trans women and trans men. If it’s too easy for trans women to transition, men will use this as an opportunity to prey on women. If it’s too easy for trans men to transition, young girls will be in danger of forsaking their womanhood. She clearly identifies with the young afab people who question their gender, but not with trans women who want to be recognized as such. Let that sit with you for a bit and I’ll see if I come back to it. 

Let’s see if I can argue against these two points first. 

1.  Cis youth (in particular cis girls) will be fooled into to thinking they’re trans.

Her statistics aren’t wrong. There has been a huge increase in trans youth. This increase is especially prevalent in neurodivergent afab people. Trans health care, at least where I live, is struggling with how to deal with this. Those diagnosed with autism spectrum disorders often have difficulties with feeling comfortable in their bodies and the language used around that can be similar to the language used around gender dysphoria. Many people are concerned, as JKR obviously is, that these people might think that transitioning would get rid of these symptoms, when in fact they stem from something completely different. These people may transition and still have these symptoms. They may be disappointed. 

The conclusion you’re implicitly supposed to draw from these statements, and those like what I quoted above, that these young trans people aren’t really trans. That they’re somehow being tricked by trans activists. You have to believe two other things for that: that young neurodivirgent people can’t interpret their own lived experience in a correct way, and that transitioning is harmful. 

Because why would it be a problem if a young person questions their gender, identifies as trans, transitions, and then changes their mind? Who cares if they have an autism diagnosis? It is only a problem if transitioning is bad for you. And the part that people like JKR seems to think is harmful is that they might have “altered their bodies irrevocably, and taken away their fertility”. But the unaltered body holds no moral superiority over the altered one. While fertility is something many people desire and something many who lack it grieve, it is not something that inherently gives your life more value. To JKR, the inherent harm of transitioning can only be justified if the person is really trans.

The tendency of a specific group to display a higher prevalence of identifying as trans is then used to cast doubt on their experiences. It’s a “social contagion” - they’re not really trans. But why does any of that matter? So what if a person identifies as trans because they see themselves in another’s story and go - that’s true for me too? Why can’t you believe them? 

Well. Because you don’t really believe trans people are real. You believe that when young people speak of dysphoria, they are referring to the experience you had when you were young. And you’re happy with being a woman now. So surely they just need to accept themselves for what they are and they won’t be trans anymore. 

I get it. I recognize myself in what JKR writes here. I felt “mentally sexless.”  I also “found my own sense of otherness, and my ambivalence about being a woman, reflected in the work of female writers and musicians” and this reassured me. Find a woman who has not during a period of their life hated their body, I dare you. The world we live in does cause women to have strange relationships with their bodies. And it’s very easy from there to make the logical leap to the idea that young trans men are just girls who never found that reassurance! I might have also thought so, if I hadn’t connected with trans men in my teens, and actually tried to understand their experience, and realized that my negative feelings about my body not living up to some standard of beauty, about not being woman enough in some way, and not wanting to be “pink and frilly”, was not the same as their experience. I mean - I didn’t like my body because I thought it should look like a beautiful woman’s body, but they felt bad about their bodies because they thought they shouldn’t look like women at all!  Young boys don’t find reassurance in texts about womanhood. Because they’re not women.

So I feel a bit sorry for her. Because I think that she sees herself in these young people, and it terrifies her - what if I could have turned out to be trans? But that would only be a problem if you think being trans is a problem. So maybe you could have been trans, JKR. Why does that bother you?

And god, if you want to talk about things that pressure young people into irrevocably altering their bodies, how about the  “rigorous process of evaluation, psychotherapy and staged transformation“ that tries over and over again to make sure, double sure, triple sure, that you really are what you say you are. Trans people who want access to gender-affirming care have to show no weakness - if you slip up and say that you might not want surgeries, that can be used against you and you get nothing. Trans people repeatedly say they have to perform their gender to the extreme in order for health care providers to believe them. They’re being questioned and doubted and pushed and to get through that, you have to dig in and fight. This is not a process that encourages careful consideration and doubts - it’s a system that says: all or nothing, hesitate and you’re out. 

So we get to her second argument:

3. A concern that fake trans women invading women’s spaces would make “natal women” less safe:

Here she draws a line between real trans women, who have passed through some rigorous testing process, and men who fake it. She uses her history of abuse as a cause to be worried about the safety of women if the gender binary were relaxed. The only argument she makes here is the one I already copied up there: 

When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman – and, as I’ve said, gender confirmation certificates may now be granted without any need for surgery or hormones – then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside. That is the simple truth. 

Let’s be charitable and say that she means men who would fake being women when she writes “any man who believes or feels he’s a woman“, and not trans women who just don’t perform womanhood according to her standards. But still the question remains - why oh why are you so scared of seeing a body that doesn’t agree with your ideas of a woman in a changing room? If that “fake trans woman” is there, and doing nothing wrong, then why are you so bothered about it? Why? Is the sight of male secondary sex characteristics inherently harmful to women? No! Are you afraid that someone might experience sexual attraction when looking at your body? Then do you think lesbians should also have separate changing rooms? No, you obviously don’t! Sexual harassment is never acceptable, and just because you have a same-sex space doesn’t make that space immune to it. Opening it up to non-conforming bodies does not make sexual harassment somehow acceptable. Those who enter spaces with sexual harassment in mind should be dealt with - but the presence of non-normative bodies is not sexual harassment. 

Trans women are women, JKR says, and I sympathize with them - but only if they display their womanhood in a way that agrees with my idea of it. And they’re not like me. Only if they have the right kind of bodies, have gone through medical procedures, want to do these surgeries, will I extend my pity.

And fuck that.  

Look, the kind of logic she presents here paints trans people into a corner where the only acceptable way of being is to subscribe to a certain kind of body. Which harms the very people she claims she wants to protect - young people questioning their gender. Especially non-binary people, whom she doesn’t even acknowledge. 

And now let’s stop being charitable - JKR doesn’t believe trans people exist. She believes that those who say they are trans are tragically confused and we should only accept their words because we are nice. We should accept their delusions because we pity them. She doesn’t understand her own opinions this way, I’m sure. But fuck her understanding. 

She’s upset because the idea of “womanhood” is moving away from her. She feels - I’ve felt this too! - that this push for increased inclusiveness is taking the focus from the real issues. Things that affect all women. But claiming that women have “unifying realities that make them a cohesive political class” is something that white women say. When anyone talks about “the real issues”, they usually mean “issues that affect me.”

I mean that’s privilege 101, people. 

Ugh.

In conclusion, I’m still angry. 

[wangxiangiftexchange]

Lunar New Year Gift for vedrividia!

Pairing: Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji; past Wei Wuxian/Other (implied) Rating: Mature Warnings: brief depiction of sexual harassment, brief instance of misgendering, implied/referenced past suicide attempt, implied/referenced past sexual assault (off-screen), implied/referenced past forced pregnancy (off screen), implied/referenced underage sex & pregnancy (off-screen), alcoholism, coming out, implied/referenced homophobia Other Tags: trans male character, disabled character, gay male character, open ending, unreliable narrator, angst, tender, chance meeting, confession, reunion, character with incomplete spinal cord injury, iSCI, it probably sounds darker than it is

Summary: On the last eve before spring Wei Ying finds himself at the end of a road. What awaits him on the other side depends on the steps he takes to cross it. Someone walks beside him.

Disclaimer: I am neither Chinese, trans nor disabled. All of the portrayal in this fic is based on research. It's not my intent to offend and I'm open to critique as long as it's respectful and constructive. Wei Ying's journey is his own and does not represent all of the disabled or trans community. The fic is set in a world that closely resembles ours, but where corona never happened and maybe China's laws are just a little less restrictive (but still very phobic), so bear that in mind. I do not own any of the characters.

Notes - Beginning: The idea of trans male Wei Ying had been stuck in my head for a while now, and I've been wanting to try my hand at a trans story, because I've never done that before. This assignment was an opening to do that in a darker, more serious setting. I have also wanted to explore Wei Ying's suicidal issues while translating his story into a modern setting for some time (it was supposed to be a coffee shop AU, only the coffee shop never appeared hah). It was simultaneously hard and fun to write, and I'm grateful for it. @vedrividia​, I hope you like it!

In the past I didn't feel like I could do a good job at representing anyone of an identity I couldn't quite empathize with. Since then I've surrounded myself with trans inclusive media, and followed transgender blogs and channels, and I hope that this fic does right by all of them.

I am aware of some of the potentially problematic topics, but I also didn't want to ignore all the challenges and abuse and trauma that trans folk are forced to endure on a daily basis. (Did you know that trans people have some of the highest suicide rates, and likely to have alcohol issues? Making everyone happy and nothing hurt felt all kinds of wrong knowing that.) I believe that representing both - an ideal world alongside the real and flawed one - is important.

Positive stories are also important - this is one. Or at least I hope I was able to make it one.

On a more cheerful note, there are pictures that served as an inspiration for this story, namely this photoset (especially the pic in the leather jacket, the one on the couch and the close up) done in faceapp by a genius, this brain-frying picture, and of course this picture from the Harper's Bazaar Photoshoot that none of us are over. I completely blame Xiao Zhan's androgyny.

Last but not least, I owe a massive thanks to Laura for the amazing beta they did on a rather short notice and brought this fic to another level. Thank you for your hard work!!! :)

End notes: Wei Ying has an incomplete spinal cord injury in the lumbar area (at L1 or L2). I didn't realize that I played myself when I gave him an incomplete injury, because the lack of references and information is in terms of quantity a total opposite to everything available on complete SCI. Which in turn made the telling of such a story feel even more important. If any of you know of a good resource for the daily life of people with iSCI, I'm all ears.

Even researching the walking aides was a challenge, since most information is on wheelchair dependent people, which Wei Ying is not. He has a wheelchair but he refuses to use it, for several reasons, one of them being image, another being worry of atrophy. He likes a good walk, and there's progress thanks to physical therapy, most of which is covered by insurance. I was debating an exoskeleton/brace for him, but from what I gathered they aren't really useful for SCI (I welcome any additional info about this), and those that would be cost a ton and aren't covered by insurance - which is a big factor for Wei Ying. The toss ended up being between forearm crutches and a walking frame, but in the end I decided on crutches, because it seemed like Wei Ying would prefer them? For now? With crutches he can pretend, and I also didn't know to what extent a walking frame would be insurance covered (in China), and whether he'd be at a point where he would accept one. (I imagine the simple ones would be covered by insurance, the question is whether they make a huge difference to crutches, and whether a rollator - with wheels and a seat is something that would count as 'necessary' in this case.)

However, once again, I am not adequately educated on all that goes into the decision making here. No one ever mentions things like these in success stories. In the end I left it as a room for future development. I'm pretty sure Wen Qing is trying to convince him to get one.

I was debating whether to tag dysphoria. While it is not explicitly stated in the fic, Wei Ying does experience it, although this has gotten better since he realized being trans, came out and started testosterone. His decision to not transition fully is one that many trans people make at a point in their lives, for any number of reasons. This does not mean he'll never change his mind, or won't explore other forms of expression. It's a choice that the current Wei Ying is making, completely independent of future Wei Ying.

It's possible in China to get a gender confirmation surgery, but the requirements sound like a nightmare. The first thing you have to do is get diagnosed with 'gender disorder', be five years in (unsuccessful) therapy for it, at least 20 and unmarried. If he decides to transition fully to a male presenting body he can only marry someone who is biologically female in the future, under Chinese law. (Imagine having to divorce your significant other in order to be who you are. Imagine having to make this decision. It makes me want to write fic about it.)

It also costs a ton, as none of it is covered by insurance. You can only start hormone therapy in order to get surgery, which leads a lot of trans people to acquire hormones illegally and without medical counseling. I purposefully did not decide where Wei Ying gets his T from. I didn't want him to not have it, but I left the how undecided. For the most part I headcanon it as one of the things that make my world a little different, since hormone therapy is a thing that exists outside of transitioning as well. E.g. many female athletes use testosterone to boost their performance, and many other women take it for various medical reasons. I feel like WWX could find ways to acquire some. Now, whether this would be legal or not is left open.

By the way? Never, EVER deadname. Just don't. The moment someone comes out to you as trans, tells you their pronouns and name, that's what you use. You forget everything that came prior to that, wipe it out of your memory, it's ashes on the sands of time unless stated otherwise BY THEM, got it?

Now, Wei Ying's case. I was hesitant about how to approach this, but from the start I knew two things. I wanted the same kind of intimacy of WWX & LWJ calling each other by their birth names as in canon, but I also didn't want to go the way most authors go in this case i.e. splitting the names to pre- and post- transition. It is my understanding that most Chinese names are unisex (if anyone has more info on this, I'd love to have it), or can be used for all genders, and I didn't want to force a gender issue where there wasn't one. However, I also wanted something parallel that could be used in a similar way. What I came up with is what you see in text. While Wei Ying did change his name, the only reason why it's still somewhat okay to use 'Wuxian' is because he explicitly says he likes it. In fact, in my head somewhere in the imagined future of this verse, he and JFM have a conversation about it where JFM tells him if he wants it, it can still be his name - he didn't give it to an image, but a person. IDK how well any of this works, or translates to actual trans or Chinese (or trans and Chinese) people, so if you have words for me, let me know.

On a side note, in 2015 China lifted the one-child policy in favor of a two-child policy. A-Yuan was born in 2017.

Wei Ying attempted suicide between the 4th and 8th week of his pregnancy. During the early weeks the probability of a fetus surviving a major fall (even a fall from stairs) is significantly higher than later in the pregnancy, and the scaffolding he jumped from wasn't actually that high. I'm also considering that there might have been something to cushion the fall that he hadn't noticed (a stray rope, or a net) or been aware of (like padding on the stage), but that's a detail I decided to leave to your imagination. On the other hand, sustaining a SCI during early pregnancy is likely to have fatal consequences, as I found out a week before the deadline. In the end, they both got very lucky. Wei Ying spent the next 3 months in a coma. When he woke up it was too late to terminate. Jiang Fengmian had been adamant that the decision not be made without Wei Ying's consent, which was nice of him, but also ended up making the decision for Wei Ying regardless.

Last but not least, if you've read this and feel like you have something to add, I love any kind of comments, whether you wanna review the fic, have some useful information for me, would like to discuss a point or just like to say hi! :)

*****

Transverse

If asked, Wei Ying wouldn't have remembered how he had gotten to the bar. He didn't remember taking a different route on the short walk back home, he hadn't even been aware there was a bar in the first place. He only remembered suddenly standing in front of it, aching to his bones, limbs leaden with a familiar exhaustion, morose and longing for nothing more than a little break. His back was on fire, his leg was throbbing, the skin underneath his binder wouldn’t stop itching and to top it off his stomach had been cramping in a way it wasn't supposed to anymore. His body had decided to give him a wonderful gift for the holiday. Wei Ying wouldn't wish this on his worst enemy, and that spoke volumes to anyone who knew who occupied that position.

Needless to say, he was desperate for a drink.

The bar was almost empty so early in the afternoon, and shortly before the holiday, all the regulars had likely gone home to see their families. It was the time of reunions, the golden week of spring knocking on the door. The whole town looked empty, seemingly asleep and abuzz at the same time, a strange kind of liminal space born in the atmosphere of the coming celebrations, quiet with contained impatience. He had been painfully aware of it the entire week, the turning of another year leaving him nothing to do but watch people go where Wei Ying couldn't return anymore.

The Lunar New Year always made him hurt worse than usual, in more ways than purely physical. Wei Ying had felt that strange air peak today, even in the confines of his tiny office at the back of the Pacific Coffee branch he had been working at for a little over two months. It was a tiny thing on the busiest street of their small town, smelling of comfort in the wee hours of the morning and of salvation late in the evening. The staff had needed support with handling the supply chain, so that they could focus on serving the staggering amount of customers that came in all day.

It had seemed perfect when Wei Ying had first limped inside on his forearm crutches, with a letter of recommendation, feeling smaller than an ant but significantly less tough. The reintegration program had been a lifeline thrown to a drowning man when he had first heard about it. It had been the opportunity to restart his life. Earn an income. Be independent. In time maybe even repay his friends for the kindness they had shown when he had nowhere to go. Now? Now he wasn't sure that he'd still have a job after the holiday was over.

"This really can't go on," his boss had said, midway through the most gruesome shift the shop had ever witnessed. "Half the supplies came in wrong, for the third time this week!"

Sometimes, Wei Ying wondered why he still bothered. He could probably survive on aid and love for himself, and the Wens made enough to take care of the rest. It just… It could have been nice. To be the one to take care of the people he cared about, for a change.

He really needed that drink.

The whiskey looked enticing from where he was half-sitting, half-leaning on a stool, crutches stashed between his legs. He could almost taste it, the phantom of the sharp flavor burning his tongue.

"Hi, darling." An unfamiliar voice startled him out of his thoughts, causing him to tense. He had been aware of the middle-aged man at the counter, but he hadn't been paying him much attention until now. "Can I buy you a drink? How about Sex on the Beach?"

It was difficult to control himself at that tasteless, juvenile joke. Wei Ying could almost taste the bile rising in his throat and the beginnings of what would no doubt become a pounding headache throbbing in his temples. Great. Just what he had needed.

The whiskey bottle called out to him again, beckoning him to the bitter burn.

A drink. That was what he needed - a drink.

Do you really? Need it? The voice of his therapist came to his mind, sudden and uninvited.

"Hey bartender!" The man called out in the most unwelcome case of accidental telepathy in the history of mankind, sneaking one arm around Wei Ying’s waist, a sweaty hand settling on his hip. "One Sex on the Beach for the miss, on my tab!"

There was the rising bile again, tension squeezing his muscles, and the flash of a haughty smirk at the furthest back of his mind. This wasn't what he wanted. None of it. Neither the touch nor the drink, no matter what his mind wanted to convince him of.

It's easier to need than the things that take hard work, the ones you have to earn. It had taken him a long time to admit that.

"I don't drink." Wei Ying said, angling his head as much as the muscles of his neck permitted to look at the guy invading his personal space squarely. "Remove your hand now."

The guy bristled.

"Hey, chill out, sweetheart." He was quick to regain his composure with an awkward laugh and not enough common sense. Wei Ying supposed he must have been used to rejection. Too bad. "You're so tense… Maybe a virgin cocktail then."

His crutch shot up before the full sentence was out.

The man stumbled back with a startled yelp as the rubber point connected with his chest in a sharp jab.

"Hey! What's your problem?!"

"I said I don't drink." Wei Ying was completely unapologetic, still holding his crutch like a sword, but the guy was already walking away, muttering ‘fucking bitch’ under his breath.

"You alright there, girl?"

His gut clenched at the words.

He looked up to meet the only slightly worried, but otherwise unbothered gaze of the bartender and told himself it wasn't her fault. She probably wasn't even aware. He knew he didn't… There was no way for him to pass. There was nothing he could do about that, had already decided not to, not at this time, not in this country. Wei Ying didn't expect people to know on sight. He didn't. It didn't change the fact though that every single misnomer felt like someone was peeling his skin off.

"I'm not a girl," he said to her almost too quietly, but he knew she heard when he met her gaze. A strained silence passed between them in which Wei Ying watched her frown in confusion, then sputter with the loss of words, before awkwardly shuffling off. He smiled wryly. How funny. It really wasn't anything complicated, and yet… So few were able to comprehend.

Wordlessly, Wei Ying slid off the stool and made his way out of the bar as quick as his crutches let him be.

Once outside, the crisp air mercilessly purifying, he realized how close to the edge he had gotten once again. He had to stop doing this. He couldn't afford another fall, another spiral back down the drain. Not when he had just clawed his way out. Not when he had people depending on him now. Tiny people with curious gray eyes, so much like his own. Waiting for him at home.

Something icy touched his face and instinctively he looked up only to find it snowing.

That explained the ache.

The cold always made him feel sore, although he knew at least some of it was phantom pain. He hadn’t retained a whole lot of feeling in his left leg, beyond a tingle that had become almost constant and the occasional twitch. His right leg was fine, it just tended to ache a lot, to a point where Wei Ying sometimes found himself wishing it wasn't better off than the other one. But then he wouldn't get away with 'forgetting' his wheelchair at home, so he quickly dismissed that thought. Besides, there were plenty of people who had it worse. He, at least, could still walk. He could still stand. Kinda. He had no room to complain.

After all, he had done this to himself.

'It's better this way.' He remembered thinking, standing on the top of the catwalk stairs backstage of the high school auditorium. 'A-jie, Jiang Cheng,… Lan Zhan. I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you. I love you. I'll get out of your hair now.'

In the end it had been easy to tip backwards and let himself fall.

Waking up had been the hard part. Not only had he failed, but every reason that had pushed him to end it all had only been made worse. Worse still, after. He had lived though, so that was that. There was no utility in regret. He couldn't go back. The only way was forward now, step by painful step. Standing around and staring at the snow falling was nice, but it wouldn't make the walk shorter. Home wasn't far away. He'd take it slow. He'd be there before he knew it.

He barely took three steps before he felt someone's broad shoulder bump against his, his equilibrium yanked roughly from under his feet.

He remembered falling.

Not the act of it, nor every thought and feeling that preceded it, but he remembered the soft pressure at his skull as he tipped backwards, the endless instant of the free fall, a moment frozen in time. Not the impact, but the inevitability of it, coming, coming, almost there. The loss of control. The frightening, exhilarating realization of his absolute surrender. Not the oblivion that followed but the fragments of muddled awareness afterwards. Disorientation, rock bottom and the overwhelming sense of failure.

It had felt nothing like now.

He felt the loss of ground beneath his feet, the scrape of concrete against his palms, as he all but starfished onto the pavement. A sharp pain. The frustrated annoyance of another thing gone wrong in the long list that made up the day.

Only the failure felt the same, funny that.

"I'm sorry!" Said a deep voice. "I wasn't looking."

"Yeah, no shit." He chuckled, because really, who could have guessed.

"Here, let me help." There were hands on his arm, just as he propped himself up, but he yanked it away.

"I'm fine!" He wasn't helpless. He wasn't, dammit! He had his arms, his abdominals, and most of his legs. Getting up from the ground wasn't such a herculean task for him as for those who depended on a wheelchair. He didn't have to call an ambulance just because he starfished. He didn't need any help at all here, especially not the help of some ditzy stranger with their head in the clouds…

"Wei Ying?"

Wei Ying froze.

Few people on this Earth called him that, and none of them had a voice like that. He looked up to see glowing amber on a face carved out of a dream.

"Lan Zhan?"

Of all the people to be in town today of all days, the least likely would have to be Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, his former senior, Lan Zhan, his best friend. Lan Zhan, whom he had told his secrets, Lan Zhan, who he… who he…

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan… Can I kiss you? I understand you don't like me that way, and it's fine, I'm fine, really, but… uhm… It's supposed to be special. The first kiss. I… I want it to be yours. Just one kiss." A child he barely remembered had wanted and wanted, never satisfied. "Ah, it's okay if you don't want to. I get it. It's fine. I'm just being selfish."

But that had been a long time ago. A person he didn't know, a past life that had never truly been. Not for him in any case.

Lan Zhan was looking at him like a ghost had appeared in front of him.

Although, ghosts didn't need crutches. Honestly, Wei Ying did wish he could float quite frequently.

Face twisted in sardonic amusement at that childish wish, he pulled himself up with some maneuvering and a lot of effort. This seemed to wake Lan Zhan from his daze as he quickly followed. Wei Ying didn't miss the sweeping gaze as his once friend took him in, wondering what he saw. A stranger, perhaps? A new person? Him? Wei Ying knew he hadn't changed much on the outside, aside the obvious and maybe in his weight distribution, but Lan Zhan had always had the ability to look past the surface. Was he still able to do that? Or was he just taking in his appearance, assessing his matted, worn out body that seemed to show every year that had passed multiplied by ten? Wei Ying was aware that time had not been the kindest to him, but he was hanging on. He was past the worst now. He was doing better. He was!

He wondered if Lan Zhan still could see that too.

"Wei Ying." His name again, spoken with enough wonder to give Wei Ying the courage to meet his gaze. There was an unspoken question in it.

"Yeah," Wei Ying answered and felt the cusp of a smile pull at the corners of his lips. "Long time no see, Lan Zhan. Fancy meeting you here."

"I really like you, Lan Zhan," the person he didn't know had said, red faced with embarrassment and a shaking voice. "I mean like… like like."

Back then he had believed that moment to be the most nerve-wracking experience he was ever going to survive. Today he missed his naivety.

Lan Zhan gave him a look like he just realized it was really Wei Ying standing in front of him. Like he still could barely believe it. It unraveled a completely different ache in Wei Ying. They had been close once, and though they had always shared their secrets, Wei Ying had seen him so open and unguarded but once.

"I...like...boys," had been the answer. The refusal so, so gentle, unable to accept, thus giving something of equal value in return instead. A truth for a truth, a secret for a secret. "Wei Ying, I'm gay."

Lan Zhan, always figuring things out so quickly, always willing to accept reality no matter how hard it was. Wei Ying hadn't known back then. If he had known… Who knew what would have been then. It didn't matter anymore. It was a life long gone. What remained of it were a few good memories, some of them he wasn't sure were real.

Now, chance had made them cross paths once again, at a liminal space transversing through time.

"Are you hurt?" Lan Zhan's voice brought him back from his thoughts, and Wei Ying looked where he was reaching for his scraped hands and knees.

Lan Zhan, always the same Lan Zhan… "Not selfish."

So wonderful and kind and warm.

"Eh, I'm fine. Nothing Wen Qing can't fix." He brushed his former friend off, noticing how Lan Zhan's eyebrow seemed to go up infinitesimally at the mention of his old classmate and promptly changed the subject. "What brings you to Yiling, Lan Zhan? Shouldn't you be with your family for Chun Jie?"

"I…" Lan Zhan looked away. "Didn't get an earlier flight."

That sounded suspicious, especially since the Lan Zhan Wei Ying knew liked to plan ahead. But Wei Ying wasn't the same he had been, maybe Lan Zhan wasn't either. People were allowed to change. It also didn't answer what he was doing in Yiling in the first place, but Wei Ying wasn't forcing him to tell. Wei Ying had never wanted to force Lan Zhan into anything, he wasn't going to start now.

"Wei Ying." Lan Zhan looked at him again, this time meeting his eyes squarely. He paused. "How have you been?"

Wei Ying felt the loom of a shadow over him, and his gaze dropped to the ground for a second.

"As you can see." He put a reassuring smile on his face as he summoned enough will to hold Lan Zhan's gaze. "Still alive and kicking."

Which was probably much more than the last time Lan Zhan had heard of him.

"I was looking for you. I wanted to see you. After." The what remained unspoken. Lan Zhan's kind heart hadn't changed. Wei Ying sought comfort in it, warmed by the thought of his best friend trying to get in touch even after everything went to hell. "I was told you… left."

Wei Ying made a soft sound of affirmation through the small smile that had spread on his face. "I moved out on my eighteenth birthday. Aunt Yu… I was supposed to stay till graduation, but... ah. I fucked up. Colossally."

"Wei Ying." Lan Zhan remained the only person Wei Ying knew who managed to frown without a single crease on his face. "You were recovering."

"It was fine, Lan Zhan." Wei Ying chuckled even as he held back a sigh. Lan Zhan didn't know half of it. "I moved in with the Wens."

There was a pause.

"With Wen Qing?" Lan Zhan asked and Wei Ying realized that small detail wouldn't have been immediately clear to him, all things considered.

"With Wen Qing and her family." He nodded. After a moment of thought he added. "Not Wen Chao. I know nothing about that douchebag."

"Mn," Lan Zhan agreed and it sounded so wholehearted that it startled a laugh out of Wei Ying.

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying said, feeling truly light for the first time in a long time. The smile he gave Lan Zhan felt warm and genuine. He hoped Lan Zhan saw it too, and didn't think Wei Ying was trying to shake him off, when he spoke next. "It's so good to see you. You're the best thing that happened to me today. I would love to catch up, but they're waiting for me at home and I'm already late."

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. There was a pause. Then, just as Wei Ying was about to ask for his number, "I could. Walk you. If you like."

"I thought you had a flight to catch." Wei Ying wanted to smack his mouth for how hopeful he sounded.

"Mn," Lan Zhan said. "In the evening."

"Lan Zhan!" He startled, amused and surprised at the same time. "And here I thought your bedtime was nine! Don't tell me you crossed to the dark side."

"It is Chuxi." Lan Zhan's voice was soft with a playful note, and Wei Ying felt his heart turn all over again even as he laughed.

"Aiya, Lan Zhan…" A smile spread on his face. "Alright then. I'd love to have your company. If you're sure."

"I am," Lan Zhan answered. "I would… very much like to… catch up with you."

"Well then." Wei Ying's smile broadened and started again in the direction he was heading earlier. "Right this way, sir. But I'm warning you. I'm basically a snail now."

For a beat there was silence, in which Wei Ying figured that Lan Zhan was probably looking for a proper response. He still didn't know how to handle self-deprecating humor, then. Wei Ying chuckled quietly to himself. The more things change…

"That is alright," Lan Zhan finally said. "I have time."

"Oh, do you? That's great!" Wei Ying grinned from ear to ear, marveling at how easy it suddenly was. "Aah, Lan Zhan I really missed this!"

"Mn," Lan Zhan agreed but didn't say anything else.

For a few moments silence reigned again, of a comfortable kind. One that allowed Wei Ying to bask in the startling, almost miraculous presence of his best friend. Or it would have been, had Wei Ying not been keenly aware of Lan Zhan's intense stare.

"Do I really look that bad?" He teased, hoping to give Lan Zhan the opening he probably needed to ask whatever questions he had. "I've actually gained weight over Dongzhi you know."

Lan Zhan blinked, as if startled to be called out. Wasn't he aware that he had been staring? Or had he not expected Wei Ying to say something?

"You look…" he started, then swept his gaze over Wei Ying.

"Tired?" Wei Ying offered, keeping the humor in his words. The last thing he wanted Lan Zhan to think was that he needed to sugar coat his words around him now. "Stressed? Battle worn?"

"Different," Lan Zhan finished.

"Ah." Wei Ying breathed out, something in his chest tightening. "Good different, or bad different?"

Lan Zhan looked at him for a long moment.

"Different you," he finally answered. A pause. "More you."

Wei Ying's breath stuttered, a small questioning sound dragging itself up his throat.

"Wei Ying…" Lan Zhan hesitated for a brief moment, unsure. "May I know your pronouns?"

Always so straight to the point.

"Pro… Pronouns?!" Wei Ying chuckled but even he could hear the nerves buzzing through that sound. "How did you figure that?"

Lan Zhan just kept looking at him. Wei Ying swallowed.

"I…"

He had to know. Since he actually asked, he had to already know. Or at least suspect. Be aware. In general, or about Wei Ying? Had he realized in their years apart, or was there something about Wei Ying now that made him guess? No one has ever been able to tell upon glance. No one.

Something fluttered deep in his chest, like the jingles of a tambourine reverberating. It gave him courage.

Wei Ying took a deep, steadying breath. "He, him, Lan Zhan. It's he, him."

He managed to swallow the thousand words that dragged themselves up his throat instead of that one, simple truth. To his credit, Lan Zhan let him, waiting patiently and with complete silence for Wei Ying to say his part.

"I'm trans," Wei Ying added, finding it easier to say after the initial confession. "As in full time, on actual testosterone, trans male."

Their eyes met. A heartbeat of silence.

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. "Makes sense."

Wei Ying had not expected that.

In his defense, no one had ever replied like that to him coming out.

"What?" He choked out, bewildered. Lan Zhan was giving him a gentle look, a diametrical opposite of Wei Ying's wide eyes. "Why does that make sense, Lan Zhan?"

"It didn't before." Lan Zhan's gaze dropped. "Now it does."

"What? Why?" Wei Ying repeated, not comprehending a single word his friend had said. At the back of his mind he knew he should be happy and relieved that as dear a friend as Lan Zhan accepted him, and he would be later, but now he was just confused. "Lan Zhan, what are you saying?"

"You confounded me. Before. I didn't understand. It didn't. Add up." He didn't even expect an answer beyond a shrug and an 'It just does', and yet Lan Zhan gave him one, trying to explain like he wanted Wei Ying to understand something important. Important enough to bring it up at their first chance meeting in years. It still didn't clear anything up. The way he was dragging his words out seemed odd too, for how upfront Lan Zhan usually was.

"What didn't add up?" Wei Ying asked again. What about him had confused Lan Zhan?

"I didn't know you were a boy. So it didn't make sense," Lan Zhan answered without looking up and Wei Ying felt dread tighten his stomach into a knot. "But now it does."

"What?" He frowned, the rush of blood pounding in his ears. "Lan Zhan, what are you talking about?"

Lan Zhan finally looked up at him and Wei Ying suddenly felt light headed. The grip on his crutches must have gone knuckle white from how firmly he was gripping the handles. It couldn't be…

"I was confused why I liked you," Lan Zhan whispered, dropping his gaze again. "Why I enjoyed kissing you."

Wei Ying's brain was white static.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, "No!"

His whole body wanted to recoil with shock.

"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan pleaded but was cut short.

"I confessed to you! I told you I liked you!" He saw the bob of Lan Zhan's throat, how his eyes fell shut as he swallowed. Wei Ying despaired for words that could express the entire scale of emotions he felt, from betrayal to hope, but mostly just... shock. "You said you… You've never… And now, after everything… Do you even… Lan Zhan!!!"

"Wei Ying," he said his name like it was all he was capable of saying, with a hitch of sudden hesitance on the last syllable, a minuscule frown around his eyes, like he realized something important. "Do you still call yourself Wei Ying?"

The quiet question conjured up another memory, of an occasion much kinder.

"It's my birth name," he heard his youthful voice, still too high although most had described it as low. Lan Zhan had raised an eyebrow at him, even more puzzled than before. Wei Ying had laughed as he went to explain. "Same character as in 'infant'. Wuxian is the name uncle Jiang gave me so that I have a better name than, you know, 'baby'. It's a cool name! I mean, 'no envy' come on! Like I have no match in the world! Totally rad, you know, uncle Jiang's naming sense is A+."

"But you prefer Wei Ying." Lan Zhan had looked at him then, searchingly and Wei Ying had looked away with a snort, to hide his swallow.

"It's a terrible name. Who the hell names their baby 'baby'?"

Lan Zhan hadn't replied anything to that, and Wei Ying still remembered his next words, and how they had burned on his tongue, how he couldn't hold them back.

"It's what the people who loved me had called me."

In the present, Wei Ying found himself laughing in spite of the utter shock. Only Lan Zhan. Only Lan Zhan would give him a heart attack first then go make sure he wasn't deadnaming him on top of everything.

"Lan Zhan!!!" He cried out. "That's so not the point right now! But, yes, I do. I changed it back, actually. Officially, I mean."

"You dislike it." It sounded more like a question than a statement, so Wei Ying answered.

"Don't get me wrong, I still think Wuxian is way cooler, and my siblings still call me that, but…" His gaze fell away from Lan Zhan to something more distant, beyond his focus as he struggled over his words, drawing them out only with great difficulty from where they were rooted deep inside of him. "It's the name given to the image of a person that never really existed. Like… the painting of a person you met in a dream. And I sorta… I like to imagine that, regardless of who I am… They would still love me."

They. The people who gave him that horrible, unimaginative name.

"Mn," Lan Zhan agreed like there had never been any doubt about it. Wei Ying snorted.

"Wei Ying," there it was again, his name, spoken so kindly, if not hesitantly as Lan Zhan too seemed to be struggling for words. "I would like to apologize. I hurt you. I have been looking for you to tell you this."

All at once, Wei Ying felt his shock settle into something more profound, like the wave that had swallowed him revealing the depth of the ocean. There was nothing Lan Zhan had to apologize for. Not for the lack of awareness, and certainly not for his feelings. Even their conflicts had always stemmed from a place of deep care.

"No." Wei Ying shook his head. "Not more than I hurt myself, Lan Zhan. Even when you scolded me, you never hurt me."

Had Lan Zhan broken his heart? Yeah, he had. So what? Did that mean he could be held accountable for it? Wei Ying's feelings were his own shit to deal with, not Lan Zhan's. Returning them wasn't Lan Zhan's duty. Even if he returned them, would it be fair to fault him for running away from them? For feeling insecure and anxious about his own attraction? For not knowing these things weren't as clear cut as all the adults around them had wanted to make them believe? It wasn't like Wei Ying had known either back then. He had, perhaps, understood himself even less than Lan Zhan. Most importantly, it was all in the past now. It couldn't be changed. What they made of it now was what mattered.

"None of my bullshit is your fault," he added. "You didn't go and tell me to fuck up my life. That was all on me."

"You wrote," Lan Zhan started, then paused, hesitating, then started again. "In your letter, you wrote…"

Wei Ying picked up on the question immediately.

"Not you," he said, the same words he had penned all those years ago in what was one of only two letters. "Never you. I had my reasons, but none of them were about you. In fact, I thought of you as the last good thing in my life at that point. The one true friend I still had left."

Lan Zhan's gaze fell on his crutches, but he didn't ask. Wei Ying was grateful.

"Come on, I need to get a move on," he said, starting to walk again, smiling at the surprised expression Lan Zhan had given him, when he realized he was still welcome to accompany him. Maybe it was something about that look that made Wei Ying add, after another second of thought, "There are people waiting for my return."

"Mn," Lan Zhan hummed, falling back in step next to him. "That's good. You should have people waiting for you at home."

Wei Ying couldn't help but smile.

"Say, Lan Zhan,…" he said after a few seconds of silence, when all what Lan Zhan has confessed slowly sunk in. "When you say you've been looking for me… You mean all this time?"

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. Wei Ying watched him gather his thoughts, the snow fluttering all around them. "I wanted to see you. Ask how you were doing. See if… If you needed support. Apologize. For not being a good friend to you before."

"Lan Zhan…" Wei Ying listened to him, and when Lan Zhan finally looked up at him his gaze was so sincere that his heart ached with it.

"I wanted to tell you the truth." Lan Zhan didn't let himself be interrupted. "That I liked you back. Without any expectations. That I didn't understand, but that it didn't matter. That I could like you without understanding why. That I wasn't asking for anything, just wanted you to know. That I wanted to help, in any way you'd let me."

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan…" Wei Ying sighed, vision suddenly blurred. He drew a deep breath. "But I wasn't there."

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. "I asked your sister where I could find you…"

"But she didn't know," Wei Ying finished for him. No one knew, except one person. "And Jiang Cheng wouldn't give you my address if you held him at gunpoint."

"Your brother knows you're here." It had the structure of a question but it was spoken as a statement, the same kind of incredulous as the look Lan Zhan was giving him. All things considered, it was kinda fair, Wei Wuxian thought as he barked a laugh.

"Yeah," he said, shoulders shaking a little as he snickered. "He's the designated secret keeper."

Lan Zhan just stared, wordlessly.

Wei Ying's smile gained an edge at the unspoken question. He had to clear his throat before he answered. "We're… not quite alright yet, but… Ah, how do I say this? He's the better judge of the situation? With, uhm, aunt Yu, I mean. It's… complicated."

Honestly, when wasn't it?

"I… see." Lan Zhan really didn't sound like he did, but didn't press, continuing his story instead. "Your sister was able to tell me which city you were in. So I… applied for a job."

Wait. Pause. Rewind.

"You work here?!" Wei Ying felt his jaw go slack.

"As an attorney. At 'Xiao and Song'," Lan Zhan confirmed, then looked back at Wei Ying. "Civil law. With focus on LGBTQ+ rights. I passed the bar last year."

"You…" There was so much to unpack in that statement that Wei Ying couldn't quite get the words together fast enough. At the back of his mind he was aware he should probably congratulate Lan Zhan on his degree but he was too stunned by the other, more important implications. "You've moved here? For work? All because… Because… You were looking for me?"

"Mn."

"Lan Zhan!" His amazing friend who, for some reason, in spite of having a great new life had been desperate to find him. "But you… But I…"

"Wei Ying," he spoke so, so softly, but with clear intent to stop any protest Wei Ying might have wanted to utter. It worked. Wei Ying's mouth fell shut, taking his friend in with a bright, wide gaze. "I missed you. I have no expectations. I just… missed you."

Warmth spread in Wei Ying's chest over the tender words, like a dying flame rekindled.

"Lan Zhan..." He didn't quite know what to say, oddly touched. "It's how you knew, isn't it? I'm not the only trans person you've met."

"There was a client," Lan Zhan admitted. "They made me think of you. I have wanted to ask you since. I wanted to know if… If I made a mistake."

He didn't specify what mistake he feared being guilty of. He didn't really have to.

For a while Wei Ying just looked at him.

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan…" He sighed, a small but genuine smile stealing itself onto his lips. "You… you're something else, you know that?"

Lan Zhan didn't reply, but there was something vulnerable in his expression.

"I missed you too."

Lan Zhan's eyes snapped back to Wei Ying's face, full of naked hope and a surprise so honest and pure that Wei Ying's heartstrings almost snapped. He could accept it. He could accept a friend longing for his company, even as his heart hammered against his chest like it was trying to escape its utter desolation.

"I couldn't have expected you to know something I didn't realize until much later." He hadn't realized there was tension around his friend's eyes until it relaxed.

Wei Ying took him in, his entire appearance and noted that although perfectly poised and immaculately dressed, beneath it all there was an exhaustion, a tension he didn't recognize. He thought about their meeting – the collision of two bodies launched out of their orbit – and everything else Lan Zhan had told him and a question dragged itself on his tongue that refused to be swallowed back in.

"Say, Lan Zhan… Since we are being so honest..." He asked before he could have thought better of it. "Why aren't you in Suzhou yet, for real? You always went home at least two weeks ahead of the festival. Did something happen?"

If there was something happening with Lan Zhan's family… Well, Wei Ying had missed enough opportunities to be a good friend in all the years they had been apart, or even before that. If Lan Zhan wanted to be his friend, Wei Ying was returning that tenfold. A secret for a secret, a truth for a truth.

If Lan Zhan wanted, that was.

For a second Wei Ying wasn't sure, but then the broad shoulders slumped, heaving like a weight was being lifted off them.

"I didn't always intend to go," Lan Zhan admitted. "Brother convinced me at the last moment. I wish he hadn't."

Their eyes met and Wei Ying felt a sudden heat spread through his cheeks at the intensity of Lan Zhan's gaze. He didn't take the bait, waiting patiently instead.

"I came out to my uncle. After the bar." Lan Zhan's gaze fell to the ground again, and Wei Ying already knew what he was about to say, aching dread settling painfully in his chest. "He did not… react well. He tried to set me up immediately afterwards."

"Aw man..." Wei Ying tried to sound both gentle and sympathetic without being too pitying. In his experience that never helped. "Yeah, I get that you didn't want to go home after that."

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded, but said no more.

"Was she at least pretty?" Wei Ying tried to joke, unable to bear that forlorn expression on Lan Zhan's face and incapable of thinking of anything better to cheer his friend up. It would have been easy in the past, but now, with years containing entire lifetimes between them he didn't know anymore how to make Lan Zhan laugh.

But then Lan Zhan's lips twitched a little, so maybe not all was lost.

"Luo Qingyang," he answered, like Wei Ying was supposed to know the vaguely familiar name. Lan Zhan responded to his confused frown with his own and went on to explain. "You were in the drama club together. She was… Juliet. To your Romeo."

Very few guys had been in the drama club at that time, so Wei Ying had usually gotten the main male protagonist. He had loved it. It had been one of the reasons why he had joined the drama club in the first place. His co-star in all of that...

"Mianmian!" He exclaimed, eyes bright with delight. "It's been ages since I've last…"...Seen her. Seen anyone, he didn't say, schooled his expression and laughed instead. "I can't believe they tried to set you up with Mianmian! How is she?"

"Mn," Lan Zhan made a small sound out agreement that amused Wei Ying, before he answered. "She is well. Studying. Also law. She will take the bar next year."

"All of you are so smart…" Wei Ying chuckled, fond with more memories. "You know I made out with her once?" He promptly laughed at Lan Zhan's expression. "Relax, it wasn't as good as with you."

Their eyes met again and Wei Ying saw something like hope spark in Lan Zhan's eyes, which…

Wei Ying stopped. He let his gaze wander around, collecting his thoughts. He startled as he realized he was almost home, the agonizing minutes he usually needed reduced to nothing in the presence of his friend. The ache that had gnawed at his limbs earlier had all but disappeared, replaced by a longing ache in his heart.

"Lan Zhan," he found himself speaking without the input of his mind. "You said you liked me, so you should know… I don't intend to have surgery." He saw Lan Zhan open his mouth, probably to assure him once more of his pure intentions, which Wei Ying didn't need to hear. "I know, I know, you have no expectations, and I'm not saying we have to, but… My feelings for you never changed. I still like you, but I'm also… I'm a man Lan Zhan, but I'm not adjusting my body. Not to that degree."

"Is it a financial issue?" Lan Zhan asked after a pause and Wei Ying cut him off before he could continue with something ridiculous like an offer to pay.

"It's… not not about money, but…" He thought for a moment about how to say what he wanted to say. "Regardless of that, I refuse to go through all the legal hoops that this government would demand of me, like I'm supposed to beg them just to be who I am. And... Besides that…" He took a deep breath. "I think I'd like to have another child."

"Another…" There was a strangled sound, which he ignored, forcing himself to voice what he'd been struggling to put into words for a while now.

"I want to give it one more try. Voluntarily," Wei Ying found it difficult to say, despite the thought of a baby in his arms filling him with a warmth he wouldn't have expected mere years ago. "With someone I actually like this time."

"This time." There was something very wrong with the tone of Lan Zhan's voice, and as Wei Ying looked up at him, realization hit him with the force of a freight train.

"Oh! Oh no!" Lan Zhan's eyes were akin to saucers, and Wei Ying vaguely thought he had never seen his friend express shock so openly. "Fuck, I'm so dumb! Of course you don't know! How would you know?!"

Of course that very same moment, before Lan Zhan had any chance of collecting himself, a cheerful shout echoed through the street in an all too familiar, youthful voice. "BABA!!!"

Wei Ying winced. In the way life usually was – his life in particular – before Wei Ying could come up with a single word of explanation, there was the flurry of movement, and a warmth enveloping his leg – the better one.

"Baba, baba, you're home!"

Wei Ying's eyes fell down to the source of the excited noise to have two mischievous gray eyes reflected back at him. An unbidden smile spread on his face.

"A-Yuan!" He shifted around a little until he could safely run his fingers through the child's hair, even as he was keenly aware of the man next to him. "Have you been waiting for me?"

There was a twinkle and a nod, his very own baby's face beaming up at him with unabashed adoration. A tiny hand wrapped itself around his wrist and just like that the last of the day's stress fell away. He looked back at Lan Zhan. It was difficult to describe the expression his friend was giving him, frozen with disbelief, shock and something too close to horror, as his mind seemed to be rearranging and reevaluating every piece of information known to him. Finding no point in delaying the inevitable, Wei Ying braced himself and went for it.

"Lan Zhan, this is a-Yuan. He's mine. Gave birth to him and all." He made a point to smile, although Lan Zhan's expression remained unchanged. Deciding to give him the space he needed to get himself together, Wei Ying turned his attention back to his child. "A-Yuan, this is Lan Zhan. He's an old friend of mine from school. Want to introduce yourself?"

"Hello!" A-Yuan said before Wei Ying even finished the sentence. "I'm a-Yuan and I'm already four years old! I like butterflies and bunnies! Baba gave me Radish and a coloring book for my birthday. I was four last month! I love my baba bestest! But I love xiao-shushu und Qing-guma and granny and uncle Shi lotsa too!"

It was an altogether perfect introduction, and Wei Ying felt pride and love thrumming through his heart with a strength he hadn't believed to be possible. He watched the mental math behind Lan Zhan's eyes, a complicated expression spreading on his friend's face. He decided to give him another moment to complete the mental calculations and focused on something else that a-Yuan had reminded him of.

"Speaking of, where's your xiao-shushu?" Wei Ying looked around, then with growing suspicion back at the child still wrapped around his leg. "Did you ditch him again?"

Mischief spread on a-Yuan's face as he hid in Wei Ying's thigh.

"A-Yuan." Wei Ying narrowed his eyes at him, gently scolding. "We've talked about this. No walking around on your own. What if something happened?"

"But I'm with you," came the simple answer. "I have to help you walk. You said! To help you walk I have to take your hand. I saw you and gege wasn't holding your hand, so I came to help."

"Ah, so filial, a-Yuan…" Wei Ying looked up to the skies, silently begging the heavens for strength while fighting a ferocious blush. This child of his was as much a blessing as he was a huge trouble. The best kind of trouble, if Wei Ying was honest.

"A-Yuan!"

He was still busy trying to change his smile into something more stern, when as if on cue the uncle in question appeared around the corner, calling for his nephew, looking just as frantic as Wei Ying expected him to be. He waited for Wen Ning's eyes to find them, before he looked back down at a-Yuan.

"See how worried Wen Ning is? You can't do this, a-Yuan." The child's expression fell. "Go tell him you're alright and apologize for running away."

A-Yuan didn't waste a single second, rocketing towards his uncle with an excited call.

With his child safe in the most dependable arms that there were, Wei Ying turned to Lan Zhan again. His friend's eyes were closed, face pulled into a tight expression, lips pressed into a thin line, all of which told him what conclusion Lan Zhan had reached.

"It was part of the reason," Wei Ying said, because he knew Lan Zhan would never ask and he wanted his friend to know. "But it wasn't all of it."

Lan Zhan's eyes opened, his look agonized but not pitying, Wei Ying realized.

"There were many things going on," he said. "It was all so fucked up… I knew I couldn't keep him, and somehow I figured… Might as well go together. In the end we both survived, funny that."

"The father. The father is…" Lan Zhan trailed off, couldn't bring himself to say the name, but he didn't have to. Just as Wei Ying didn't have to answer other than with a rueful smile. After all, there was only one option. Lan Zhan drew a deep breath. "Was it… Did he…"

Here too, Wei Ying knew what he was asking, felt it like the edge of a knife against his skin.

"I don't want to talk about it." He swallowed, a prickling at the corners of his eyelids. "Not yet, at least. I'll tell you the story another time."

Lan Zhan nodded. Worried his jaw. Wei Ying waited.

"Was that why you… left?" His voice was so quiet that if Wei Ying wasn't paying attention, he probably wouldn't have noticed he had said anything at all.

"To put it in the words of aunt Yu, whores aren't welcome under her roof. She threatened to leave uncle Jiang, if he kept supporting me. It's fine," he added quickly when he saw Lan Zhan's face darkening. "Uncle Jiang gave me the trust fund he had for me, which wasn't little, I have a job and I get some aid from the government too. There's also granny's pension and everyone else is working. You don't have to worry, Lan Zhan, we get by."

Lan Zhan looked like he wanted to say something cutting, but luckily they were interrupted by Wen Ning joining them, a-Yuan in his arms. He was probably getting too big for that, but he knew first hand that Wen Ning could lift a full-sized adult without breaking a sweat so he wasn't very worried for either of them.

"Wei-ge, welcome home," Wen Ning greeted him. His eyes wandered to Lan Zhan for a brief moment, then to Wei Ying's hands which were still scraped. "Is everything alright?"

"More than!" Wei Ying ignored the look, grinning and watched a-Yuan beam at him. "Everything's perfect, look who I met in town! You remember Lan Zhan, right? He was in the same class with Wen Qing. Turns out he works here!"

Wei Ying managed to say all of that in one breath before he even realized he was doing it, yet consciously leaving out the bar and without bothering to detail exactly how the 'bumping' went down. Wen Ning took it all in, then gave Lan Zhan a polite smile, his dark eyes meeting Lan Zhan's squarely.

"I know of Lan-xianbei," he said slowly, cautiously polite, before his expression settled into a smile and he inclined his head in greeting. "We've never met officially."

There was a brief round of long overdue introductions, which Wei Ying was happy to ignore in favor of watching a-Yuan grow increasingly fascinated with Lan Zhan. It etched the lines around Wei Ying's smile deeper into his features, in a way he hasn't felt for a long time.

"A-Yuan." he couldn't help but pinch one of the chubby cheeks, after a little shifting of weight. "You keep looking at Lan Zhan like that, he'll think you like him."

"Pretty gege," was all a-Yuan had to say to that, a smile splitting his face, while Lan Zhan's ears turned red. Wei Ying laughed, alight with surprise that the one tell-tale sign of his shyness still remained. Lan Zhan was looking at a-Yuan with increasing curiosity, that pained line from earlier disappearing from his features, slowly replaced by wonder instead.

Wei Ying only looked away when he felt a tiny finger poke at his cheek, angling his head towards a-Yuan to listen to whatever secret his son wanted to share.

"Will pretty gege stay for dinner?" A-Yuan whispered through his hands, causing a complicated set of feelings to run through Wei Ying's chest.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but Lan-shushu can't stay." Wei Ying mock pouted at his son. "He has a flight to catch later."

"Why?" A-Yuan asked, as he did all the time.

"He has to visit his family," Wei Ying answered.

"Oh…" A-Yuan's face fell. There was no doubt in Wei Ying's mind had the answer been anything else, he would have kept asking, but if there was one word a-Yuan understood better than anyone, it was 'family'. It didn't mean he liked it. "But… But I heard! I heard that we will have a party tonight! I cleaned my room, and I did a picture for teacher, and helped granny bake! I was the bestest and uncle said I could stay up extra long tonight 'cause then baba would live forever!"

"I didn't say forever," Wen Ning corrected him timidly, but neither of them paid attention to him, the poor soul. A-Yuan only heard what he wanted to hear, and Wei Ying was too busy making sure his heart didn't burst. He still sometimes couldn't quite believe how much he loved this child.

"Me too." It came unexpectedly from beside him, and when Wei Ying turned to look he found Lan Zhan looking almost as surprised as he felt. "I mean, I also usually stay up longer on Chuxi."

A-Yuan's smile eclipsed the sun. Lan Zhan returned it with an expression so impossibly soft that Wei Ying's heart almost did burst then.

"Pretty gege can stay, and his family can come too, and I will draw everyone a picture!" A-Yuan all but vibrated with bare excitement that Wei Ying felt bad that he had to chide him.

"A-Yuan, do we tell people what they can and can't do, or do we ask?" He had picked the gentlest way possible, but his son still hid his face in his uncle's neck, utterly dejected.

To be fair, Lan Zhan looked rather stricken himself. It was adorable to watch and Wei Ying… Wei Ying knew that no matter whatever feelings he might be harboring, he only came as a set with his son. There was no possible way of heaping that responsibility on another person from the get go, on top of everything else, and yet. And yet. Lan Zhan was regarding a-Yuan with such fondness that it did strange things to Wei Ying's heart, and just like that courage bloomed in Wei Ying's chest.

"How about a compromise? Lan Zhan," he asked carefully. "You still have a few hours left until you have to be at the airport, don't you? Would you… Would you like to come inside?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Please, pretty gege, pretty please." A-Yuan loved the idea, immediately reaching his arms out in silent demand to be held. Wei Ying could only watch as Wen Ning oh so carefully leaned forward and tightened his hold so that a-Yuan could safely launch himself into Lan Zhan's open, waiting arms. He bet Lan Zhan hadn't even noticed how he held them out in a response that had seemed completely automatic.

"A-Yuan," Wei Ying reprimanded him gently, doing everything he could to ignore the adorable pout that pressed into Lan Zhan's shoulder. It was difficult to do with his heart singing like that.

"I would hate to intrude," Lan Zhan replied hesitantly, his eyes not leaving a-Yuan for a second and Wei Ying felt his heart constrict.

"I don't think anyone would mind," Wen Ning said, smiling gently.

"It won't be an issue, Lan Zhan, really." Their eyes met. "We still have a lot to… catch up on."

There was a spark that darkened Lan Zhan's eyes briefly, something heavy settling in the air between the two of them. Chance had brought Lan Zhan back into his life, and Wei Ying wanted to hold on. In any way he was allowed to. As long as he was allowed to.

"And you could meet… You could meet my family." Warmth spread deep in Wei Ying's chest as the word 'family' echoed in his mind, before he added in a whisper. "If you like."

"Wei Ying…" Finally, after what felt like an entire eternity, Lan Zhan spoke, the softest of smiles spreading on his face, gentle as the first rays of the sun on a misty morning. "I would very much love to meet your family."

"Great!" Wei Ying felt the smile split his face from one ear to another and amidst the cheers of his child that echoed the ones in his heart and started towards the door that Wen Ning held open for him. "Come on in then! Let's give everyone the shock of their life that I brought home such a handsome man!"

"Wei Ying…" It was spoken as a reprimand but it sounded like a chuckle.

"Hi, handsome! You're Lan Zhan, right? I've heard all about you!" Somewhere in his memory a cheerful voice greeted the most beautiful youth that there ever was. "I'm Wei Wuxian. I'll let you call me Wei Ying."

The door fell shut to the sound of Wei Ying's laugh.