#what happens in Shanghai stays in Shanghai
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kathaynesart · 1 year ago
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And now watch it all fall apart.
BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT MASTER POST
Thank you everyone for your patience as I recuperate from Covid. I tested negative and am now just recuperating from the lasting effects. Honestly, this update is one I probably could have skipped, but I love me a good heist plan. Plus I just wanted to have some fun with this holiday special and if that means extending it a bit longer, then so be it.
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dragonflycap · 1 month ago
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What to expect from the stock market this week
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Last week, the review of the macro market indicators saw with October in the books and heading into the election and FOMC meeting, equity markets experienced a Halloween spooking. Elsewhere looked for Gold ($GLD) to continue its uptrend while Crude Oil ($USO) consolidated at the bottom of a broad range. The US Dollar Index ($DXY) looked to consolidate in its uptrend while US Treasuries ($TLT) pulled back in their consolidation. The Shanghai Composite ($ASHR) looked to continue the short term move higher while Emerging Markets ($EEM) pulled back in their uptrend.
The Volatility Index ($VXX) looked to remain at a neutral level, above the base established this year, and was likely to stay there at least until after the election. This might make for choppy light trading for equity markets to start next week. Their charts looked strong on the longer timeframe though. On the shorter timeframe both the $QQQ and $SPY had reset momentum measures lower and could reverse or turn bearish, likely a couple of days’ time would tell. The $IWM did not seem concerned about an election or Fed policy, churning sideways.
The week saw major movements happen following the election. It played out with Gold pulling back from its high Wednesday before a partial recovery while Crude Oil found some strength and moved higher in a choppy range. The US Dollar jumped to a 4 month high while Treasuries fell back to a 5½ month low Wednesday before a recovery. The Shanghai Composite continued the move to the upside while Emerging Markets chopped in a wide range.
Volatility crashed down to the low end of the range since August. This put a stiff breeze at the backs of equities and they started to move up Tuesday and then accelerated Wednesday through the end of the week. This resulted in the SPY and QQQ printing a new all-time highs Wednesday, Thursday and Friday and the IWM gapping up to a 1 year high. What does this mean for the coming week? Let’s look at some charts.
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The SPY came into the week at the 50 day SMA on the daily chart in a pullback from the top. It had a gap left open from the end of the week. It held there on Monday and then started higher Tuesday, into the gap. It gapped up Wednesday to finish at a new all-time high and leaving an island below. It followed that up with new all-time highs Thursday and Friday. The Bollinger Bands® are open to the upside. The RSI is rising deep in the bullish zone with the MACD positive and rising.
The weekly chart shows a strong, long bullish candle rising from the 161.8% extension of the retracement of the 2022 drop. The 200% extension is now within view at 614 above. The RSI is rising near overbought territory in the bullish zone with the MACD drifting up and positive. There is no resistance above 599.60. Support lower sits at 585 and 580 then 574.50 and 571.50 before 565.50 and 556.50. Uptrend.
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With the Presidential Election and November FOMC meeting in the rearview mirror, equity markets showed jubilation as they vaulted higher. Elsewhere look for Gold to in its uptrend while Crude Oil consolidates in a broad range. The US Dollar Index continues to move to the upside while US Treasuries consolidate in their pullback. The Shanghai Composite looks to continue the move higher while Emerging Markets chop in their short term uptrend.
The Volatility Index looks to remain low and drifting lower following the election making it easier for equity markets to continue higher. Their charts look strong on both timeframes, especially the SPY and QQQ. The IWM has now joined the party, a stone’s throw away from making its first new all-time high in 2 years. Use this information as you prepare for the coming week and trad’em well.
Join the Premium Users and you can view the Full Version with 20 detailed charts and analysis: Macro Week in Review/Preview November 8, 2024
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accio-victuuri · 6 months ago
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June CPNs round-up ❤️💛💚
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• Children’s Day candies
• similar we11done pants - i personally love seeing them in same style clothing, especially if it’s as unique as this.
• LOZ preview candies: having the same braincell playing w/ an abacus & the ok gesture reappears
• i can’t link it here because the posts are locked over at weibo, but someone on douyin commented they saw wyb on set of LOZ. but then later on said that they were mistaken. hmmm. you can take it as it is, that this person said something he shouldn’t have. or that he retracted his statement to prevent any problems or rumors. as with these things anyway, we will know as time goes by and as we see clues here and there. i’m just archiving this incident here for future use.
• Beijing same city 6/5 to 6/7 before wyb flew abroad for the french open.
• 6/6 XZ chongqing photos candies 📷
• WYB and the innocence of the little prince
• Look at them and their hats and long hair!
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• french embassy paying attention to THEM!
• GG spotted wearing green tod’s shoes! and it looks like they purposely matched their airport fits 😭😭
• XZ’s dragonboat festival photos
• 6/11 xz and wyb together on the hot search
• The similarity in their ELLE magazine previews. you can say that it’s the editing from the same magazine publication that’s why this happened but it’s so uncanny!!!!
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• weibo opening screen of their movies winning at weibo movie night!!!!
• August issue of MOVIE STAR magazine featuring them for CQL 5th anniversary!!!!
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• venchi chocolate
• new apple watch after spending time in beijing
• rolex daytona paul newman 6263
• XZS chongqing vlog: stone island wardrobe, suitcase, ipad and same city (shanghai) - what i didn’t include here about the suitcase is that, i like the cpn of wyb bringing home stuff that xz’s parents ( in chongqing where he came from before shanghai ) has asked him to give yibo. it may be food items and other things and it makes sense that yibo is the one to take it back.
• 6/16 xiao zhan weibo posts a 🐽 and them posting so close to each other & some more clowning about a sus necklace, 18:23 and venus - i swear! this made me lose my mind! xz is so loud 🗣️🗣️🗣️on yibo’s end we got him imitating the family picture
and i forgot to add the betty boop that looked like she’s wearing luffy’s outfit!
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• 6/17 zsww fake rumor
• a cpn compilation about the pig 🐽
• Loewe candies + them being in europe at the same time for 622
• going back to Beijing the same day 6/23!
• rufeng posts new audio snippet where wyb implies he is not jealous of wwx and wq
• them being number 1 for the respective weeks their new endorsements were announced. king behavior!
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• tod’s x loewe business photo shoot looks! it’s matching!
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• another example of ybo and xzs similarity ( yibo moment )
• the bonus content this month is a tarot card reading done for the boys. if you’ve been following me for some time you’ll know that this is my guilty pleasure when it comes to them. i understand it’s out there so feel free to skip. here is the original video. i will just share here the interesting part that made cpfs 👀.
reading was made 6/19 and people were asking about if whether they will go to europe together. the person said that it’s within the month and not a two person trip cause they will have people with them. and that they have been preparing for this. a section also explained how their state is, that it’s treating one like a husband and they will stay sweet forever. also how the two will remain “hot” or popular. and— that they will sign a contract to put themselves in equal footing which is not limited to a marriage certificate etc.
a part of it too which was asked is how wyb’s relationship is with his dad + i guess how he is taking the romance between him and xz plus other things ( probably ) idk how cpfs thought of asking this. i’m not implying anything okay? the question was “Has the father’s attitude softened?” OP said that wyb has not returned home during this period and him & his father is always separated by by geographical distance. there is no time to sit down and talk with his father so the final result is still a deadlock.But they have to talk and wyb needs to take the initiative to speak to his father.
• adding this here cause it’s blowing my mind how much they look alike recently. like this airport video of xz. i mean. he even move kinda like wyb. LIKE…WHAT…..
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-END. See you next month!
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scoonsalicious · 6 months ago
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Unsatisfied, Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: After game night, Bucky promised to ruin you come morning. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.
Warnings: Language, adult themes, Explicit Sexual Content: Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (FaceTime sex, hand stuff), Pocket still not being over her trauma, mentions of past injury.
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: Hi, besties!
It's me, ya gurl, with Part 2 of the post-Unwanted one-shot that's become a three-shot, lol! I fucking missed the absolute hell out of these two, and I'm so happy to be back with them for a little bit. Writing for Pocket and her Bucky is just like... I don't know. It's like I'm not even making stuff up, just channeling it, because it comes so easily, unlike literally everything else I try to write. I can't say when I'm going to resume WFLT. To be perfectly candid, I might put it on extended hiatus while I work on other things that seem to come easier right now. I don't know yet. I just want to be up front with everyone.
Here's where my attentions are currently focused: Finishing Unsatisfied, an untitled collab with @mrsbuckybarnes1917, writing Hunted, and plotting Unbroken. For some reason, there is just a giant Gandalf standing between me and WFLT, waving his staff and shouting "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" I'll let you know when I whip him into the abyss. And yes, that does make me the Balrog in this scenario, and I, too, fall to my death in the depths of Moria. It's an imperfect analogy, okay? At least I'm not Sean Bean, dying all over the place.
Anyway, enjoy more Pocket and Bucky! I know I do! xoxo
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“I miss you,” you moaned into the screen of your phone. Your voice sounded pitiful, even to your own ears, but you were lonely and you didn’t have the shame to hide it. Especially not from the man you were talking to.
“I miss you, too, sweets,” Bucky said with a dejected sigh that let you know your feelings of misery were mutual. “It shouldn’t be longer than a few more days, then I’ll come back home to ya, and we can pick up where we left off, yeah?”
You smiled and nodded eagerly, his promise setting your skin awash in goosebumps. ‘Where you’d left off’ had been finally, finally, coming back together after nearly twelve months of self-imposed celibacy, spending the first night together, in your new apartment, wrapped in each other’s arms, with his co—
“At least we got our bubble bath before things went fully to shit,” Bucky added, a smile playing on his lips from across the distance, as though he knew exactly where your thoughts had taken you.
“Yeah,” you sighed, remembering the feel of him, so warm and solid, against your back in the tub. After he’d kicked out your friends from the impromptu game night they’d decided to throw at your new place, and you’d gotten over your freakout when Sam had inadvertently joked about Bucky ‘cheating’ at a card game, the two of you had spent a much needed evening just in each other’s company. Intimacy, but not sex, the way your therapist had recommended, with Bucky promising to ruin you come daybreak. 
Instead, though, a call had come from Fury in the middle of the night. A group of terrorists, counting some several enhanced among them, had stolen a biological weapon and were threatening to decimate the population of Shanghai unless the Chinese government gave into their demands, and so, The Avengers, Bucky included, had been called away.
You’d offered to go, just so you could stay close to him. You’d never even leave the Quinjet, you’d promised, out of the action, but neither Bucky nor Tony was eager to see you back on the field, not after what had happened the last time. Even though you’d had your last reconstructive surgery months ago, and your doctors had given you the all clear, between your boyfriend and your pseudo-brother, you weren’t leaving New York anytime soon.
That had been over a week ago. Negotiations with the terrorists had not gone according to plan, and they were probably going to have to fight it out. And as for you? You were ready to climb the fucking walls.
“How’s wedding stuff going?” Bucky asked, referring to your role as Maid of Honor in Pepper and Tony’s upcoming nuptials. “Keeping you busy?”
“Don’t you dare try to change the subject, Barnes,” you practically growled at him. “I am so fucking desperate for your cock, I swear to god–”
From somewhere off camera, you could hear a cacophony of sound– a combination of Sam and Clint’s uproarious laughter and Tony shouting “JESUS CHRIST BARNES, USE YOUR FUCKING HEADPHONES!”
Bucky’s face had turned crimson in the video call, and you couldn’t suppress the laugh that came bubbling from you as he abruptly stood up and removed himself into a darker, quieter area.
“Shit,” he exhaled as he got himself re-situated in the new, hopefully more private, space. He ran a hand down his face in embarrassment. “Didn’t mean for them to hear all that, doll.”
You laughed as you twisted a strand of hair around your finger in the way you knew he liked. “What happened to your earbuds, baby?” you teased. 
Bucky reached up and pulled an airpod from his ear, looking at the small device as though it had personally offended him. “I thought they were on!” he exclaimed. “If I’d known I’d been broadcasting you for the whole fucking team to hear, I woulda gone somewhere a lot more private to begin with.”
“The whole team?” you asked, cautiously. You didn’t want to say any names, but you needed to know if he was there, too. If he’d heard you.
“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, catching your meaning and lowering his voice. “Rogers is here.”
You swallowed and nodded solemnly. You hadn’t spoken to Steve Rogers since he’d made his horrible confession to you in the hospital, of the ways he’d manipulated your life to keep you and Bucky apart. All culminating in Bucky’s betrayal, your temporary death, the loss of your unborn baby. 
“Are you alright?” you asked, thinking only of Bucky in the moment. It was easy for you to stay away from Steve, to ignore him– your anger toward him had far surpassed any level of fondness you’d once had for Captain America, but you knew how much harder it was for Bucky to break a bond of nearly a century. Not that you would have ever forbidden him from reconnecting with Steve, if that was what he had wanted. No, Bucky had decided on his own that some things couldn’t be forgiven. No matter how many decades of friendship might lie behind them.
“Yeah,” he sighed, though you could tell from the look in his eyes that it was harder for him than he was letting on. “It’s awkward, but if we keep it strictly to business, it’s manageable. It’s just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, and you wished so badly that you could be there to smooth the lines from his distraught face. “It’s just… sometimes he makes it hard to remember what he did.”
You nodded, feeling guilty that you were the reason the two were no longer friends. That Steve had betrayed Bucky because of his desire for you. 
“Don’t go blaming yourself, sweets,” Bucky chastised you knowingly. It was like he could read your mind. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a look. “I know how that pretty head works, doll, and I know you’re blaming yourself. Stop it. He made his own bed, now he gets to lie in it.”
“I know,” you lamented. “I just hate that you have to pay the emotional cost of his bad decisions, that’s all.”
Bucky frowned at you. “Just like I hate how you had to pay the costs for mine, doll,” he said softly. “Our actions have consequences. We have to live with them, so we don’t make the same fuck ups again.”
You subconsciously let your hand drift to your abdomen, your fingers delicately tracing over the scar that was the only external reminder that you’d been shot. Had technically been killed. Had lost a lot more than your life. You were grateful Bucky could only see you from the chest up.
“Well, this conversation took a turn,” you said, trying to get off of subjects you’d rather not dwell on. “Can we go back to talking about how fucking horny I am for you?”
Bucky barked out a laugh and god, how it warmed your heart that you could still get that reaction out of him after everything you’d both gone through. His blue eyes seemed to darken as he adjusted himself in whatever seat he was in. “If it helps, I’m horny as hell for you, too, sweetheart.”
“Oh yeah?” you asked, tugging on your bottom lip with your teeth as he nodded his head. “Yeah, hearing that does help. Show me.”
Bucky’s eyes widened through the screen. “Show you?” he breathed, clearly not having anticipated where you were about to take the conversation. “What do you mean, ‘show you’, doll?”
“I mean,” you said, leaning back against the headboard to make yourself more comfortable, “show me that pretty cock of yours, Sergeant. Take it out. Stroke it for me. I wanna see what I’ve been missing.”
You watched as Bucky’s eyes went back and forth between the phone screen and the door that separated him from the rest of the team. You could tell from the way he was gnawing at his bottom lip that he was seriously debating it, but that he had some real reservations. “Doll,” he whispered, sounding scandalized, but excited, “they’re right outside. They’ll hear me.”
You smirked at the way he’d suddenly become shy. “I wanna hear you, Sarge,” you pleaded in a breathy whisper, and from the way he closed his eyes and moaned at your words, you knew he was so close to giving you what you wanted. “Come on, baby,” you cooed. “Can’t you show Pocket that pretty pink cock she’s been wanting so badly? Can’t I watch you choke it with your big hands while I imagine my mouth wrapped around it? Pozhaluysta, Soldat?”
“Fuck,” he muttered, and you knew you’d won when he hopped up from where he’d been sitting. Though you couldn’t see it from the way he was letting the phone dangle, you could hear him lock the door. “You know I can’t resist it when you speak Russian, doll,” he said as he sat back down, propping the phone and its camera up against something so that you could see his entire body stretched out before you. 
“YA rasschityval na eto, detka,” you said with a grin. I was counting on it, baby. You could see now that he was in a bedroom of what looked like a standard SHIELD safehouse. It was small– only one twin-sized bed, so you weren’t worried about anyone else barging in to need the space. 
“So, how do we do this?” he asked, and you could hear the nervousness mixed with excitement in his voice. It struck you that, throughout your relationship, and all the time you’d spent apart while one or the other was away on missions, the two of you had actually never done this before. Phone sex, yeah, but never on video, together. It was going to be new territory, and it thrilled you. 
“We?” you asked playfully, pretending you had no idea what he was talking about. 
Bucky looked at you sternly though the screen of your phone and you involuntarily shivered under his gaze. “Don’t think for a second I’m not going to see that sweet, dripping cunt of yours tonight, doll. I’ve been fantasizing about it for ages. Got just a taste of it the other day, and it wasn’t nearly enough.”
Fuck, you could feel yourself dampen and your nipples harden just from his words alone, not to mention the memory of the brief moment on your terrace, before the movers had arrived, when he’d had his deliciously thick fingers pressed inside of you.
“Baby,” you moaned, not even realizing you were trailing your fingertips over the pebbled flesh of your breasts under your shirt, imagining his rough, calloused hands on you. 
“Take off your clothes, Pocket,” Bucky growled. He didn’t ask; it wasn’t a request. It was a command, and you were ready to obey. 
“Sir, yes sir, Sergeant,” you said, and you were sure you looked anything but graceful as you sped to pull your top over your head and shimmy out of the pair of cheeky panties you wore. The cool breeze of the air conditioning danced along your flushed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned, his eyes following the path your fingers traced along the contours of your body. You watched hungrily as he absentmindedly palmed himself through the Tac pants he still frustratingly donned. “God, you look even better‘n I remember, sweets,” he grunted. “Better than I’ve been imaginin’ all week. How the fuck’s that even possible?”
“Buck,” you warned, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at his obviously false praise as you turned to hide your face from his gaze. “Stop. I know you don’t mean that.”
Frowning, Bucky leaned forward, picking up the phone so he could bring his face close to the camera, scrutinizing you. “Pocket,” he said, but you refused to look at him. “Pocket!” he tried again, his voice a little firmer, but still gentle. “Why the fuck would I not mean that, sweetheart? You’re gorgeous.”
Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. It was kind of him to lie to spare your feelings, really, but you didn’t think you could take it. Not from him. Not after everything. Without thought, your hand moved to cover your bullet wound from his gaze. “Come on, Buck,” you said, your tone implying that you weren’t buying his bullshit, no matter how sweetly he was selling it, “we both know you weren’t imagining me with all these new scars.”
“Baby.” Bucky made a noise somewhere between a choked laugh and an incredulous groan. “You can’t seriously think I, of all fucking people, give a shit about a couple of tiny scars?” He put the phone down, and your view of him was obstructed for a moment while you heard the rustle of cloth. When he lifted it up again, you saw he had taken off his vest and Tac shirt. He pointed to the ruined skin of his left shoulder.
“Look at these and tell me you think I’m gonna be turned off by a coupla’ scars, Pocket,” he said, and you could detect the hard edge to his voice. 
“It’s different, Buck,” you told him, your voice cracking. “You already had those scars when we met; they were a part of the man I fell in love with. You…” you hastily wiped at the tear that was suddenly threatening to fall from your eye. “Mine… mine weren’t. You didn’t get a choice in them.”
You watched as the look on Bucky’s face morphed into one of pure confusion. Of course he didn’t fully understand– you weren’t just talking about scars, after all. He… just didn’t realize that yet.
“You didn’t have a choice in them, either, sweetheart,” he said softly, eying the way your hand protectively rested over your abdomen. “And if you’re talking about the scar from when you got shot… well, fuck, if that scar’s not my favorite thing.”
You looked at him in wide-eyed disbelief. “How could this… disgusting reminder…” you choked out, “of everything that happened last year… how could that be your favorite thing, Bucky?”
“That scar means you’re alive, doll,” he told her. “That you’re still breathing, still with me, in spite of all of it. So forgive me if I think that makes it the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You closed your eyes and exhaled, his words momentarily taking away the sting of the inadequacy you’d felt ever since the doctors had told you about the extent of your condition. It wasn’t something you were purposefully keeping from Bucky… You had just been too terrified to say it out loud. You were going to tell him. Just not yet.
"Look at me Doll,” he said, getting your attention back onto his face, “I don't like that I have to tell you this at all, but I'm gonna do it, as many times as you need, as many times as it takes for you to believe me. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."
You felt your face soften, the tension of insecurity drop from your shoulders as he looked at you through the phone screen, eyes blue pools of adoration. You wanted so badly to just get lost in him, to let him consume you until you were capable of thinking of nothing but him. 
“Thank you,” you whispered.
“It’s something more than just the scar, isn’t it, sweets? You’ve never been ashamed of showing me your body before.” You weren’t vain as a rule, and Bucky knew this about you. You had other scars, worse ones. Uglier ones, but none had ever bothered you the way this one had. None had ever carried the same degree of psychological and emotional baggage. 
You just nodded, afraid that if you spoke, you’d reveal what you’d been keeping from him, blurt it out before you could stop yourself, and it was not the kind of thing you wanted to do over video with thousands of miles of distance between you.
“You don’t have to tell me, doll,” he said, the understanding in his voice so pure that it made you ache. “I know so many of my actions have hurt you; I get that there’s still some trust–”
“Baby, no,” you interrupted. “I trust you, I do. I want to tell you. I’m just… not ready yet.”
“Tell me what I can do for you right now, then, sweetheart,” he offered. He’d brought the phone close to his face, his gaze on you intense and burning through the screen. “What do you need?”
You exhaled, the sight of him so focused and sincere making your knees feel weak. “Just you, Buck,” you whispered, the words coming out in a breathy sigh. “I just want you.”
“I’m right here, doll.” His voice turned low, darker. A soft purr that vibrated your insides. “And I’ll be home with you real soon, but you gotta tell me what I can do for you right. now.”
You sucked in a shuddering gasp of air, indulging in the way his words swept over your body like a languid kiss. Without even thinking, you felt your hand drift down your abdomen, your fingertips dancing along the top of your thigh.
“Buck,” you found yourself whining as you squirmed your ass across the mattress, searching for any inch of friction you could find. 
“Yeah, baby,” he grunted, readjusting the camera so it was once again propped up and you could see the length of him pressing against the material of his tac-pants. “Tell Sergeant Barnes what you want so he can give it to you.”
A beat of silence passed between you before you both started laughing, your hand coming to cover your face as you suppressed a snort. “Oh my god, Barnes!” you wheezed.
“Yeah, that was awful,” he laughed, palming his face in embarrassment. “Did I kill it?”
You wiped away a stray tear that had leaked from your eye in your laughter. “You’re lucky I find your bad jokes to be such a fucking turn on,” you told him with a grin. 
Bucky frowned. “Wasn’t supposed to be a joke, doll,” he grumbled, a pout forming on his beautiful pink lips. “‘S supposed to be sexy.”
“Oh, I found it very sexy,” you assured him. “You make me laugh, Barnes. That’s the hottest fucking thing I can imagine. Now take off your pants.”
The look in Bucky’s eyes turned from playfully annoyed to seductively heated in the space of a nanosecond. He reached for the zipper of his tac-pants and you licked your lips at the sound of it coming undone. “Get the camera all set up, doll,” he said as he shimmied the pants down his legs. “I want to see every inch of you.”
With a grin, you propped your camera up between your legs, giving Bucky a front row seat to your dripping core. “This work for you, Sarge?” you asked.
“Fuck, sweets,” he began, palming at himself through his boxer-briefs. “Yeah, that works for me.”
“Show me,” you commanded him, bringing your fingers down to lightly trace the outer edges of your lower lips. “Show me how well this view works for you, baby.”
Bucky scrambled to pull his boxer briefs down to his thick thighs, and you watched with bated breath as his cock sprung free, its beautiful, pink tip already glistening with precum. Your entire body erupted in tingles at the sight of him. He was so fucking gorgeous, and he was yours.
“Jesus,” you hissed, bringing a hand to your breast and gently squeezing the flesh. You could feel your mouth thicken with saliva at just the idea of having him down your throat.
“Just Bucky’s fine, baby,” he teased as he grabbed a hold of himself, and you rolled your eyes. “No need to bring God into it.” Slowly, he began stroking his length. You watched in awe as he seemed to grow harder with every downward pull, the veins in his thighs bulging as he thrust his hips up against his hand. If anyone was going to be compared to God during sex, it would and should be Bucky Barnes.
“Touch that pretty clit for me, doll,” he grunted. “Pretend it’s my fingers on you, getting you all warmed up to take my cock.”
“Fuck, Buck,” you whimpered, your fingers moving frantically over your bundle of nerves. You were already soaked; just the sight of him had sent another wave of arousal gushing through you. “Want your dick in my pussy so bad, baby. So fucking bad, it hurts.”
“Soon, sweetheart,” he grunted, watching your fingers strum your clit with wild eyes. “I’ll be home soon, and I’ll fill you up so good, you won’t be able to walk normal for weeks.”
You arched your back and moaned, the memory of the way he stretched you as he entered you, opening you wider than any other man you’d ever had, flooded your mind. “Nothing fills me like you do, baby,” you panted. “Nothing hits me so deep.”
“Yeah?” he grunted, and you could hear the delicious slick, slick sound of his hand moving through the precum that soaked his shaft. “Not even those fancy toys you bought?”
Bucky chuckled when he noticed your eyes pop open and stare at him in surprise. “Oh, I know all about those, doll.” Slick, slick, slick. “Found ‘em when I was helping you pack for the move. All of them.”
You felt a blush rising to your cheeks, and if you didn’t already have your hand on your pussy right in front of him, you might have been embarrassed. “All those toys, and none of them gets me off as good as you do, Buck,” you breathed. “None of them reach that spot the way you do.” It was true– it was the one thing you had desperately searched for during your time of Bad Decisions– someone to hit that place deep inside of you that set your every nerve ending on fire, that made you shiver and convulse with pleasure with each thrust. No one had ever brought on that full body climax that left you shaking and weak like Bucky had. 
“Fuck, doll,” he grunted. “No one touches your A-spot but me.”
“No,” you gasped. You loved how he knew your body so well, knew what he did to you, how you longed for his touch. “No one touches me like you, baby.” 
“Put your fingers in, sweets,” he commanded. “I wanna watch you fuck yourself on that pretty little hand while I pretend it’s my cock.”
You did as he asked, bringing two fingers to your weeping entrance and plunging them inside you. They would never feel as thick or go as deep as any part of Bucky, but for now, they were all you had, so you made the most of them, driving them in and out of your cunt with abandon. 
“Fuck…” you grunted as you felt the coil in your belly begin to tighten, sweat glistening off your brow. “Baby!”
“I know, pretty girl,” Bucky said between grunts of his own. “Tell me how good you feel.”
“So good, Buck,” you moaned. “So fucking good. Want you so bad, Bucky! So fucking bad!”
“I’m right there with you, doll,” he panted. “I’m so close. Gonna blow all over and imagine it’s inside that pretty pussy of yours. Gonna come home and bury myself in your cunt, sweets! Not gonna come out for days!”
“Oh shit, Bucky,” you cried, your release a hare's breath away. “Wanna cum with you, baby.” You curled your fingers inside of you, stroking your G-spot again, and again, trying to imagine it was his thick, calloused fingers inside of you. 
“Just a little longer, sweetheart.” Bucky was yanking at his member now, his pace quick and frantic. 
You felt yourself rising, clawing to the very edge of the precipice, but before you could hurl yourself over the edge, you accidentally hit your phone with your foot, sending it falling to the floor.
You scrambled for the phone. It had landed face-down in the dark, making it harder for you to find, but you followed the sounds of Bucky’s grunts and moans until you made contact. Turning the phone back over, you watched as Bucky, eyes screwed closed, reached his peak, ropes of cum erupting from the tip of his cock and landing across his stomach and hand. 
And, as surely as if someone had doused you with a bucket of water, the spell was broken. You were painfully reminded that he wasn’t there with you. He was half a world away, still out of your reach. 
You sniffled, and Bucky opened his eyes at the sound. “Sweetheart,” he began, his voice laced with concern, “what’s wrong? Did you cum?”
You hitched a breath, holding back a sob, and shook your head. “You’re not here, Buck,” you cried. “It’s not… I thought… I just want to be with you. I miss you so fucking much!” You knew you sounded petulant, like a child, but you were at your limit, truly. You wanted nothing more than to be back to normal with him. A better normal, even, now without the shadow of Carthage looming over you both.
“Oh, doll.” Bucky picked up his phone and brought it close to his face, his now flaccid cock out of frame. “Baby, I’m so sorry. Do you wanna try again? We can focus just on you. Make sure you get off nice and good.”
You shook your head, feeling the tears of frustration and longing slide down your cheeks. “No,” you 
whimpered. “I think… I think I just wanna go to sleep.”
Bucky frowned at you, the look in his eyes sorrowful. “I fucking hate that I’m too far away to help you, Pocket,” he said. “I can’t stand seeing you like this, knowing you’re hurting.”
“It’s just been so long, Buck,” you whispered to him as you buried yourself under the blankets of your bed. “I feel like every time we even try, something keeps getting in our way. What if it’s the universe, trying to tell us we shouldn’t be getting back together?”
Bucky sighed, thick and heavy. “I know you don’t believe that, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s just been some bad timing; we got out of our groove, is all. I promise, things will go back to the way they were. The way they’re supposed to be.”
Not long ago, you told him that his promises didn’t mean shit to you, but now… now, you wanted to believe him more than anything.
“It’s just a little longer,” he clarified.  You nodded, swallowing down any remaining tears that threatened to fall. You wanted to believe him. You needed to believe him, but the part of you that had been irrevocably broken when he’d hurt you couldn’t help but whisper that, maybe, in some way, he’d always leave you unsatisfied.
<- Part 1 / Part 3 ->
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moonstarsunearth · 6 months ago
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One thing also about Lily being Patrick's child theory(not just about Tashi's personality or how it must change the movie if is an interesting writing choice), that I havent see discussed is that Art is a tennis player,that means he literally lived travelling from city to city around the world during all year. When tennis players have wives/husbands and children,that imply decisions of the wife/husband staying at home with the children or all the family travelling together,what also imply a lot of schedules and decisions in how those children would be raised. It isn't even like football/basketball/baseball players that stay most of the time in the same country and have a local team and city to stay most of the time,no, a tennis player is in Shanghai in October and two weeks later in Paris, in August one day in Toronto ,next day in Cincinnati.And in Tashi's case,she is Art's coach,part of his team,she must travel with him all the time. Dont you think that birth control was something they didn't take seriously or even if it's an accident the decision to have a child must have been a big discussion and decision between Tashi and Art? because it would affect their careers and lives completely and would change totally how they manage it.
Just Tashi being pregnant implies she had to stop for some time travelling and working with Art,so Art must travel and play without a head coach or his team being incomplete or he must stop playing some tournaments,risking his ranking, if he decided to stay some time with Tashi.
And if Lily is an Atlanta's child. you imagine, Art became a grand slam favourite in 2011,he was so close in his career to win a grand slam,was on the point of consolidating and materializing what Tashi and he had been working. You imagine Tashi in January 2012, deciding risking Art being without his coach ,his team incomplete in Australian open,being alone trying to beat Djokovic ,Nadal,Federer or Murray to win his first grand slam after he couldn't win his first big opportunity with the Us open,all that because she decided to be pregnant at home with a child that is product of cheating on him,lying to him about his paternity and praying that Patrick never notice and try to say or do something and ruin their lives?
Sorry but it doesn't make sense to me,the only way that child is an accident is a birth control failure that wasn't because human failure or may be the euphoria of Art winning his first grand slam or Wimbledon or Roland Garros and even if that happened,having Lily had to be a big decision Art and Tashi took and discussed a lot.
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petit-naldo · 8 months ago
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After the race.
SHANGHAI - Post Sprint
Carlos returns from the paddock, racing so closely with Charles got him all worked up. I mean, they almost touched. Maybe they did? He's still shaking a little from the adrenaline. But it's okay; he knows the internet is going to either praise him or get mad at him for it. He knows everyone is going to comment, but it's okay. He loves it. He loves racing that way, showing the Latino mode. It's not their first time with Charles; they tacitly agreed that whatever happened on the track would stay on the track and not impact their relationship.
And Charles gave him a thumbs up after the race, so everything is okay. And it's probably just a coincidence if he doesn't run into Charles the whole hour after the race. He focuses on debriefs and interviews.
But when he finally sees him at the end of the garage, back turned towards him, he can't help but run and lightly grab his arm.
"Hey..." he holds his hand out for him to clap.
"Hey," answers Charles rather flatly, not meeting his gaze. Something feels off, but he still asks.
"Are we good?"
"..." Charles finally looks up and grimaces. He feels his stomach churning. Did he really go too far, really? He always makes sure to be very careful with his teammates, especially with Charles, who has always been very respectful towards him. With Charles, whom he particularly appreciates. So he slightly panics and stammers, "but you gave me a thumbs up so I thought that..."
"It wasn't in that way."
"Oh..." Oh, so it was an angry thumbs up. And he responded like an idiot.
"you fucking pushed me off track, Carlos, it could have caused a puncture!"
"You passed me anyway, so why are you mad?" He sees a glint of fiery arrogance in Charles' eyes.
"Because you could have let me! Instead of fighting so hard."
"Oh, let you? In what honor?"
That's new, Charles asking him for favors like that. He lets out a little laugh, and Charles blushes and says, "Not let me... just not fight me so much."
"But I'm a fighter, we are fighters... on track and chess," he tries to lighten the mood by lowering his voice a little bit, gives Charles a little bump on the shoulder, smiles... "you said it yourself in the interview... I heard you."
He tries to pinch his side, but Charles squirms away still annoyed, brows furrowed, but he knows him so well, he sees his eyes are about to laugh already because no matter how much he wants it, Charles can never stay mad at him for too long. Spanish charm.
But he is mature, and if Charles is annoyed, even a little bit, the air needs to be cleared. So he stops teasing, comes back to being serious, and presents his hand in front of him as a peace offering.
Charles meets his eyes defiantly, wondering, but slowly slowly reaches to hold it. He feels Carlos' fingers wrapping around his own, warm and strong, steady. It's strangely comforting. He'd like to hold onto them for a while, ground himself back after this madness.
"I'm sorry, if I went a bit too far. I'm sorry, didn't mean for you to think it was aggressive." His voice is low and warm, and Charles receives it like a hug. He loses himself in the big brown pupils for a while, then swallows, mouth suddenly dry, and nods a little bit, acknowledging the apology.
"We good?" asks Carlos, back to being smirky with a blink and a wide smile.
"Yes,"
And Carlos smiles even wider and pulls his hand toward his lips to give it a kiss.
"My lord..."
"STOP IT, Carhlos!" and Charles feels his face burn, pretends to be offended, and pulls back his hand, pushing him lightly on the shoulder in retaliation. His heart races like crazy.
They head towards the common room, bickering.
"Now we'll have to explain this to Fred," sighs Carlos, anticipating the scolding.
Charles nods, unfocused.
He can't help but wonder how Carlos' lips would have felt like.
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medusapelagia · 4 months ago
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21 Merry Christmas
written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Please ) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: Absurd Tragedy)  Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: parents death, homicide-suicide, gun violence, tragedy Words: 1259
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Steve has always known his father was a cheater. That’s why if his mom used to fly with him everywhere it was to surprise him, and not in a good way, but it was their routine, after twenty-five years of marriage Steve knew that his mom would stay at home the first days of school just to make sure to leave a good impression on his teachers and then she would have flown away toward Chicago, or New York, or even Shanghai. 
What he was not expecting was having both of them home for Christmas, a big ham in the oven, and some friends over. People Steve has met a couple of times in his life, but it almost felt like they are a normal family. A big Christmas Tree covered in so many lights and decorations you couldn’t even tell if the tree is real or fake, standing in the entrance, like the ones they used to choose when he was a kid and his father still drove him to the tree farm to choose the best one.
Being used to being alone in the huge home, the chatting of the people was a welcomed soundtrack to Steve’s day and he didn’t care if some of his father’s friends were commenting on the fact he didn’t go to college and he was working at the local video store, his parents were home, the house finally smelled like home and the table was full of food and people. Everything Steve has ever asked for.
Steve’s mom steps closer to him, offering him a glass of champagne to celebrate Christmas Eve, “You’re going to visit the Hendersons tomorrow, right?”
“I usually do, but I can stay if you want.”
“There’s no need, sweety. I want you to have fun with your friends. Your Dad and I can enjoy some alone time. God knows we never get enough.” She smiles brightly and her white teeth shine thanks to the Christmas lights.
The party doesn’t go on too long, just after midnight all the guests start to get back to their homes, knowing that the next day they are expecting to celebrate with their families and Steve goes to bed too, feeling extremely tired.
He wishes good night to his parents, eager for the morning to come to open his presents. The three of them haven’t sat in front of a Christmas Tree in years.
What he’s not expecting is being awakened by Jim Hopper, with his hat in his hand while he shakes Steve’s awake.
“Hop? What’s wrong?” Steve asks, looking immediately for his nailed bat, “Are they back? Demothings? I have the bat in the back of my closet.”
Hopper’s face is serious and sad, while he looks at him, “Get dressed Steve, the Munson’s kid is waiting for you downstairs.”
“What? No! I can’t! I have to open the Christmas present with my parents and go to the Hendersons for the Christmas lunch.” he complains, but Hopper shakes his head.
“You’re late for lunch. That’s why Claudia called me.”
Late? Steve couldn’t have slept so long, he went to bed just after midnight. But a quick look at his clock alarm tells him that it's already three in the afternoon. Why didn’t mom wake him up? She knew Steve was supposed to have lunch with the Hendersons.
“I… I don’t understand.”
“Get dressed, I’ll explain everything.”
“Let me get through! You fucking moron! Hopper called me! I’m his friend! Let me fucking get through!”
Eddie? His voice sounds panicked.
“Hopper, what’s going on?” Steve asks again, staring at the policeman in his striped pajamas.
“Trust me. It’s better if you get dressed and make a little bag with a few things. You’re going to stay with the Munsons for a little bit. We already talked and…”
“You, who? And why do I have to leave my house? And where are my parents? Mom! Dad!” Steve starts to scream, trying to get to the door, but Hopper stops him.
“Do as I told you!”
“No! I want to know what happened! Mom! Mom!”
“Stop screaming! She won’t answer!”
Steve turns abruptly, “What does it mean? Why won't she? Did they leave again? Without telling me? That’s why you are here? Well, let me tell you, I have lived on my own long enough that I can take care of myself.”
“Steve.”
“What? What are you trying to avoid saying to me?!”
Hopper plays with his hat for a bit before saying, “They are dead.”
“So… sorry. What?”
“Your parents are dead, your house is a crime scene and I need you to leave and stay at Munson.”
“That’s not possible! I saw them last night. We had a big party. They bought me presents I have to open and…”
“Your mom left a letter for you. Your dad was going to ask for a divorce to marry his new young secretary, and she wasn’t going to have it. She told him she wanted a last Christmas together, as a family. She drugged you and your father adding something to the champagne and then she shot him and then herself. Now can you fucking get dressed?!” the policeman yells, before brushing a hand on his face, “Sorry, kid. I… I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Well, that’s what a very shitty way!” Eddie screams, finally getting into Steve’s room and immediately hugging him tight.
Steve’s shaking, shocked, standing in his pajamas and his sock feet.
“Why don’t you put on a pair of shoes and a jacket? Hopper will grab the things you might need and take them to the trailer, because we’re leaving.” Eddie declares, glaring at Hopper and the chief of police nods quietly. 
Steve is too astonished to do anything at all, so Eddie helps him sit on his bed and put on a pristine pair of white Nike, before grabbing the puffer jacket he finds in Steve's closet and walking him outside.
For a brief moment, Steve catches a glimpse of the moquette stained with blood, a white silhouette drawn on the carpet, and the flash of a photo camera, but Eddie is dragging him outside.
The air is crispy and Steve feels like he can’t breathe.
“Ready to go?” Eddie asks once they are both in his beaten van.
“Please.”
When Eddie starts the van, for the first time ever Steve doesn’t have to cover his ears to protect them from the music blasting from the stereo and he misses it. It’s way too quiet, but he doesn’t want to talk either, so he keeps staring out of the window.
It must have snowed during the night because the streets are covered in white and soft clouds. Some kids at the trailer park are having snowball battles. They hit Eddie in the back but he doesn’t join them, too occupied with dragging Steve inside the trailer. They don’t even make it to the door that Mr. Munson is already standing there, his arms extended and ready to hold Steve’s weight, and Steve does the only thing he can think of, throws himself into the old man's arms, crumbling like he has no strength left.
Mr. Munson doesn’t comment when he sees Steve’s still wearing his pajamas, he makes some hot chocolate and puts on some old country records that play softly in the background, one arm around Steve’s shoulder and Eddie sitting on Steve’s other side.
An absurd tragedy, that’s what the local news will call the event, but for Steve, is the end of the world.
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dangermousie · 8 months ago
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A thought on what Zhou Luo's expulsion story tells us - it tells us that this small town is not unique in gossip and reputation being paramount and much more important than any truth.
The event happens not in tiny backwards town but in freaking Shanghai. And yet it is a mirror of Nan Ya's existence in terms of reputation or even Liu family and Chen Ling and everyone else being much more concerned with seeming over being.
Because the rumors and gossip about female prof banging Zhou Luo are just that - they are not only untrue but, much more to the point, the faculty/administration KNOW they are untrue. Even that loathsome prof ZL punches out doesn't really believe there was anything sexual or romantic there - what they all latch on and what they are all concerned on isn't the truth, it's the almighty "what it looks like." (The lady prof, older and more experienced in the world, gets it and resigns, ZL young and idealistic does not get it which is why his rage and outrage.)
And this isn't any different to the small town, where everyone is only concerned with reputation not actual actions; Xu Yi is rich and charming so he can't be an abuser without a reason (as if there is any reason for abuse, ever), Nan Ya has a reputation as a slut despite the truth (and nobody has any interest in the truth; the whole town knows the "wrong party" is acting in that monster train scene yet stay away) and both Liu fam and Chen Ling don't really care what the father did (or in CL's case what she herself did) but only how it comes across.
And that really makes sense, doesn't it? Human nature is, after all, the same everywhere.
PS The other thing that struck me is that ZL has a truly rare quality - of owning his choices and being responsible for his actions. His punch to that prof is impulsive. His sticking to his guns despite knowing he will be expelled and refusing to apologize is very much not - it takes place over days (and perhaps weeks.) Courage of your convictions is what that is but also - he views himself as responsible for his actions and that is even rarer. He did X, he knows the outcome is Y and he's neither repentant nor trying to pretend it was not in his control/an outcome he caused. He is not blaming the lady prof (compare it to everyone in the freaking town), blaming his fate, or even going "if only I did Z instead" - he may be barely an adult (he's 19? 20?) - but he is more of an adult in that way than 95% of adult characters in this show - him and Nan Ya, that's about it. (Also, I mentioned it before, but I love that last intervention on someone's behalf ended catastrophically for him and does it give him any pause here? Nope.)
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pauking5 · 1 year ago
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Addicting Taste Chapter 3
~ Under Editing ~
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Synopsis: Enishi Yukishiro was on a mission to execute his piece de la resistance. A plan to avenge his beloved sister. Until you showed up. Will you be a part of his downfall or will you try to save him?
Pairing: Enishi Yukishiro x fem reader oc
Genre: strangers to lovers, sunshine and sunshine protector, comedic relief, slow burn, a lot of fluff
Words: 8k+
A/N: Chapter 3 is finally here! It is more of a filler to give you more of a back story on our lovely oc. Things will start picking up speed soon :) Enjoy lovelies.
Previous Next
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“You’re the boss of the Shanghai mafia.” “You’ve been saying that for the past five minutes.”
This was too much for your brain to process.
He’s a mafia boss? He was the person in command of the gang with some of the best mercenaries in the whole continent? And you just so happened to get involved with his kind?
You hated his kind. They took everything from you and left you with nothing. You were on a mission to wipe them out no matter what. To stop them from wreaking havoc on other people's lives.
In spite of your life's mission, your confidence was currently faltering and you couldn't stop the trembling that overtook your hands.
You sat down on the couch in front of the desk he was leaning on, feeling too overwhelmed. The embroidered plush seat offered you some comfort, providing relief to your aching back and tense muscles. Nothing could provide relief to your aching inside though.
You couldn’t comprehend this situation at all. Nothing about it made sense. You stared into the nothingness in front of you, trying to find some sort of clarity. All kinds of thoughts swarmed around your mind, ranging from worse to well, much worse.
Enishi observed you from his spot against the long mahogany desk decked in guns. He looked worried, which was a first.
Your sudden quietness was like a bad omen. The moment you stopped smiling was the moment light disappeared from the room. The way your face blanched over and how your hands trembled even as you tried to hide them told him something was very wrong.
He felt that squeeze in his chest again, wanting to hear you beaming and chatting eagerly again. He didn't know what made him react like this whenever he was around you but it drove him insane. He wracked his brain to say something, anything to bring back your smile or pull you out of this state, but he couldn’t exactly find the right words. So he settled on a distraction. The reason he brought you over to his mansion.
“You can stay here for the night. I owe you that much,” he said.
He waited for a reaction, a, to say something, anything.
You turned your head in his direction, eyes lost in a spiraling abyss. Stay here? I can’t stay here.
But where am I supposed to go? I’m not exactly able to find another place to stay, especially around here. And it’s pretty late already.
What’s gonna happen if I spend one night here? He will eat me. Or send me to the woods as wolf bait. I could make friends with the wolves though. They might not eat me.
He watched as you thought his proposal through. You tilted your head on all sides, analyzing all possible scenarios whilst anxiously bouncing your leg. Then finally, your small voice broke through the room, barely audible to anyone else but the both of you.
“I… I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Nonsense. You took me in and you didn’t have to after everything. Please stay… for tonight?” he pushed, unsure of how else to plead with you. He couldn’t believe that he was begging for a stranger to stay the night.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he asks, surprised that you accepted his offer.
You nodded shyly to show him your certainty and he felt relieved. He didn’t know why he needed you to accept so bad. All he knew was that he wanted you here for as long as he could have you.
Your bright aura somehow mingled with his dark one and they couldn’t be separated anymore. It was like you were magnets, unknowingly attracting each other.
“Come with me,” he said as he took your hand and pulled you off the couch. His grip on your hand was even softer than the first time he grabbed it when you escaped the precinct. It gave you goosebumps again.
He led you out of his office, taking a left down a long corridor. The tall walls were decked with even more paintings. They were all so captivating, landscapes and silhouettes mingling into one as you flew by. But one in particular caught your attention. Pale orange and green bled to make a sunset, cresting over the steep hills of a valley. There was something about the way the green from the bottom morphed into a dark blue the more your eyes went up the slopes and the sky got darker. It strangely reminded you of Enishi’s eyes, the same dark blue hue gracing the outline of his irises. The hills sat strong and reliable, guarding a tiny village down in the valley. They were letting just enough sunlight in to shine down on its crops. It was beautiful. You wished you could look at it for longer but the hand holding yours was itching to get somewhere.
The wooden floors creaked under your steps the more pressure you put on them. The mansion may have looked like a new building from the outside, but the interior seemed lived in for decades prior to your visit. Tapered walls curled in some corners as if they were afraid that standing straight would be too painful. White silk curtains flowed by the windows in a ghostly dance, twisting and twirling against each other and resisting the close pull of the wind. They would push and pull until one of them kicked the other out in the cold even if they didn’t mean to.
You were yanked back to reality by Enishi’s feet coming to a halt in front of a pair of oak double doors. Pushing them open with a creak, he walked you in, his hand still holding yours.
A gasp got stuck in your throat as you took in the sight before you. A beige princess-like aesthetic dominated the whole room, from the queen-sized bed to the vanity in the corner. The wooden floors decorated with floral carpets contrasted perfectly with the style. A few more paintings hung off the walls to add some colour to the space. It was almost identical to your old bedroom back home.
He watched as you marveled at the room’s interior. Your cheeks gained back their blush came and you looked like your normal self again. Looking down at your interlocked hands he noticed that your hand stopped trembling too. It was only then he saw how well your small hand fit in his. It looked protected from any possible danger that could ever threaten you. He kind of liked the feeling.
“It’s beautiful,” you said as you snapped him back to the present.
“I hope it’s gonna be to your liking. In case you want to… stay longer than just for tonight.”
You turned back to him. It was a tempting offer. You didn’t have a place waiting for you or anything urgent to tend to. But you needed some time to mull it over, starting with everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours.
“I’ll think about it,” you said, trying to not get his hopes up too much.
You weren’t sure why he wanted you to stay. You were strangers after all. You weren’t useful to him in any way and you weren’t really planning to be.
“I’ll leave you to it. There should be towels in the bathroom. If there’s anything else you need please let me know.”
He was awfully hospitable to you and you found yourself a little unable to refuse him. Those eyes of his started charming you to accept anything he could ask of you. They looked so doe and warm whenever he looked at you. It made you wonder if he's ever looked at anyone else like that.
“Thank you,” you said shyly.
Nodding to you he headed towards the door. You didn’t even realise he was still holding your hand this whole time until he let go. You were kind of getting used to his cold fingers lacing with your warm ones. With his hand on the door handle, he threw one more look your way to see if you’re okay and he left for his office.
You walked further into the room and sat down on the bed. Feeling the golden patterns sawn on the duvet on top you sighed. You felt nothing but drained. All you wanted to do was to lay down and sleep. But after taking a whiff of your blouse you thought a shower would do you better first. You couldn't roll around in these expensive sheets smelling like a pig.
If the room impressed you, the bathroom left you even more in awe. The gold and white aesthetic seemed to whirl around in here too. Your family was somewhat well off from the tailoring business and your house was nice, but this was next level rich. The tiles on the floor were sparkling clean and a floral design spread across the walls from corner to corner. The sink surface was marble and the cabinets had golden handles with all kinds of drawings resembling birds. A deep bathtub in the corner had brass designs on the feet supporting it and they were like an artwork in itself. The whole bathroom screamed comfort and relaxation. You were pretty sure that if heaven existed this was it.
“Maybe I don’t have to leave this place so soon... IS THAT BUBBLE SHAMPOO?!”
—————————————————————————
After a long shower you were dressed in clean clothes and ready for bed. Diving under the big duvet and setting your head on the soft pillows, you sighed and closed your eyes waiting for sleep to take you. A few minutes turned to a few hours and you couldn’t fall sleep. You tossed and turned around until the whole bed was thrashed.
Flopping on your back you huffed an exasperated sigh and sat up. Thinking of what could do the trick and lull you to sleep somehow you remembered tea was always a go to solution. Tea it is.
Kicking back the duvet you let your feet pad onto the wooden floors and out of your room. You didn’t know the place so getting to the kitchen was an adventure. You circled the mansion multiple times before you found it… three doors down from your own. Well, you had to admit your sense of direction wasn’t the greatest.
Pushing the doors open, your feet met the cold tiled floor. The kitchen was more of a green and beige cottage style making it look so cozy. A big kitchen island entered your vision, furnished in the same marble the bathroom sink in your room had.
Your room. Huh. You could get used to that actually.
The island stretched in the middle of the cooking area, with a few stools around the side. Sliding your palm along its smooth top you couldn’t help but wonder how rich this man actually was. Like sure, arms trades were hugely profitable in these times, but that couldn’t be a big source of income.
Turning to the shelving you noticed there were a lot of them. You scourged every single cabinet until you found a mug and what looked like a tiny satchel of herbs. Holding it to your nose you smelled it to discover it was hibiscus tea.
Is this a joke? Of all the teas I could find, it’s my favourite. The one I used to drink a lot as a kid. A soft smile took over your lips as you scanned the tiny satchel.
You couldn’t help but relish in the small moment as you were brewing your tea. You haven’t had a warm cup in a long time and it got you excited. Letting the herb mix sit for a few minutes, you took the teapot and slowly poured it into the cup. You got lost in the rosy colour of the liquid and filled the cup to the top on accident.
“Oh, crap,” you said as you leaned down to slurp the drink so it wouldn’t overflow.
Just as you leaned back up a deep voice spoke to you from the door of the kitchen.
“What are you doing here?”
The sudden disturbance made you jump, knocking the cup to the floor in the process. The tiny porcelain smashed to the floor and broke into dozens of small pieces. Your eyes widened and you quickly scrambled to the floor to pick them up muttering curses.
“Shit. I’m… I was just… the tea…”
You didn’t even realise he was crouching next to you until his hand latched onto yours, stopping you from reaching for a sharp piece.
“You’re gonna get hurt.”
As you looked up your eyes met his. They looked troubled, sailing in stormy waters and his words sounded like a warning of something far worse than a ceramic cut on your finger. He wasn’t telling you off for breaking the cup. He was telling you off for being clumsy. Was he worried?
The way his eyes peered into you made your insides flutter. You felt your cheeks getting warm and your throat got dry the more you continued with this staring contest. So before you could crumple your pride and throw it to the bin you pulled your hand away from his and sat up straight. He seemed to snap out of a similar trance as he coughed and shook his head.
You leaned back on the counter and watched as he picked up the rest of the broken china. When he finished inspecting the tiles for any stray bits he got back up and dropped the contents in his hand in the bin.
Then he turned to you and he had that look again. The same one he had in that alley as he took your breath away. He took you in, from your wet hair to the bathrobe that sat secure over your nightgown. He took slow steps towards you, making you push farther into the island counter. Coming close enough that your noses almost touched, he put his hands on the counter top on each of your sides. He caged you between his body and the marble island and you felt your heartbeat rising to an all time high. Leaning even closer to your face he stopped at a distance you could feel his breath fan your lips.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“W-what question?” you stuttered. Why am I stuttering?! I need to get a grip.
“What are you doing here?” he asked again, this time with a teasing smirk playing on his lips. He loved how initiating the smallest proximity between you was enough to make you cave. If he could have you like this every day he would.
“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted dropping your head to the ground to avoid his prying eyes. When you lowered your head he was hit with your fresh rosy scent. It drove him wild.
Trying to muster up some courage you pushed a question his way too.
“What mafia member drinks hibiscus tea?”
“I do.”
“You do?” you replied a little surprised. Last time you checked hibiscus was too girly for men.
“Yeah. It’s the only tea I like.”
You’ve got to be shitting me. The boss of the powerful Shanghai mafia likes hibiscus tea. You tried to keep your giggles to yourself but failed.
“Hey! Why are you laughing?”
“Nothing. I just… this is too good. The leader of one of the most feared mafias in the world drinks hibiscus tea! Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?“
You continued laughing until your stomach hurt. He shook his head at your antics and stepped away from you, freeing you from his hold.
“I’ll make you another one.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Just shut up and sit down.”
You obeyed and took a seat on the other side of the island. Watching as he made quick work of the teapot with his back turned to you, you couldn’t help but wonder how muscly he was underneath that blouse. You smacked your cheeks lightly to make these thoughts disappear from your head just as Enishi turned around with a freshly brewed cup of tea. He walked around the island and placed it down in front of you, taking a seat by your side.
“Why are you up this late?”
“I told you, I couldn’t sleep. Figured a tea wouldn’t hurt,” you said as you scratched the back of your neck. “Why are you up this late?”
“I don’t really sleep that much.”
You could tell from his sunken eyes and the bags pooling around his orbits that he lacked sleep. What was he working on so hard in the middle of the night?
“Do you want to talk about it? Or we could talk about something else. Like the fact that you’re really good with those guns.” He was deflecting but you let him off this time.
“I’m not. It’s just something that helped me survive in the long-run. My father used to teach me how to shoot in our garden, whenever mom went down to the market. The pistols I use were his,” you said with a small smile recalling all the times your mother caught the two of you and scolded your dad.
Enishi noticed how relaxed you got whenever you talked about your family. It seemed you were brought up in a really loving one. He’s always wondered how that felt like.
“What happened to them?”
“That’s a story for another time. But after that… I had to leave and try to survive on my own. I joined a few fighting rings in Edo and I learned a thing or two about combat and shooting.”
“Wait. Fighting rings all the way in Edo?”
“Yeah. It was the only place I could make some money and have a roof above my head. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world but it was decent. I did that for a few years until my reputation got the best of me.”
“What do you mean by reputation?”
“I was known for leaving my opponents in a pool of their own blood whenever they underestimated me,” you said as you sipped on your tea.
“Wait,” his brain seemed to shortcircuit as it recalled a few memories. It all suddenly clicked in his head. “ You’re Barairo?!”
“At your service,” you smiled.
Seven years ago, somewhere in Edo
Rounding the corner, Enishi continued following a man he caught sight of on the street. He heard him talking about a fighting ring down in the suburbs and the exclusive fight happening tonight.
He’s been constantly hearing about this fighter called Barairo. There was no way they could be that good that the whole city would talk about them. So he went to see it for himself.
Sneaking behind the man he got inside an underground tunnel and continued following him. The closer he got to the end of the tunnel the louder the yelling got.
Coming out of the tunnel he saw a bunch of people gathered around the mouth of a pit. They were chanting as two fighters took center stage. He stepped closer to the barrier to take a look.
“In the corner we have the big and bulky fury. All the way from Osaka, please welcome the shadow of night, Yanokage.”
He raised his axe in the air and hit his fist on his chest in a show of power but people didn’t really cheer for him. It seemed like they were waiting eagerly for the other opponent to make their presence known.
“In this corner we have our pride. Representing Edo, please welcome our crimson rose, Barairo.” Cheers erupted from all sides. Seems like they all came for… her? Barairo is a girl? She doesn’t even look much older than me.
As she stepped closer to the middle of the pit, he got a better look at her. Her clothes were torn on all sides and her hair was long, cascading down her shoulders. Her hands were holding two pistols in a death grip. Her eyes were screaming crimson red, just like her nickname, and they had a murderous glint. As if all it took was a wrong breath in her direction and she would skewer you with her guns without even pulling the trigger.
“Let the fight begin!”
“A girl is the famous Barairo? Ha ha ha! A girl. This is ridiculous,” Yanokage said as he was twirling his axe around.
His laugh was enough to make her look his way. A sickening grin took over her features. Oh, this guy was fucked.
She let him bask in the moment. But he was just a little fish that didn’t know it was caged with the biggest shark. Testing the territory of his predator was going to cost him dearly.
Seeing his hesitation in attacking she took the reins and with one swift kick to his ankles he was sprawled on the ground. She straddled his middle, dragging her pistols down his neck as she watched him struggle. How she managed to pin him to the floor when he was twice her size was beyond me.
Yanokage got annoyed by her antics so he threw her off to the side with a grunt and got back to his feet.
“I’m going to enjoy killing you, little girl.”
He launched himself at her but she was quick to dodge his attacks. When he got tired of swinging his axe she started digging punches everywhere she saw a spot left unprotected. The force of her moves pushed him back making him stumble on his feet. With one swing of her leg she got high enough to hit his face. A few teeth flew out of his mouth onto the floor.
He was pissed and he wanted to end her. But before he could take a step in her direction she pulled the trigger. Not just once or twice, but multiple times. He didn’t even get a chance to block the fire, his body getting churned by all the bullets she fired his way. What was scarier was that she was smiling. She was enjoying this in a sick way and the crowd loved it.
The cheers intensified as the bulky man crumbled to the floor of the pit. The girl took her guns and headed towards her corner to exit stage. Before she went inside she turned to the gray dot in her peripheral vision. A gray mop of hair was staring down at her from the end of the railing. She stared back at him and he noticed a change in her eyes. They were sad and filled with regret, a total contrast to the sadistic look she had a few moments ago. One blink and she was gone from his sight.
After that, he went to a few of her next fights and studied her combat style. She moved on impulse and trusted her gut but she was lacking the force to execute them. Her small stature allowed her to lead her enemies into a trap, waiting ready to kill them in cold blood. That was the last he’s seen of you before he left Edo. Until now.
————
You looked different now. The energy around you was changed. Your smile didn’t hold that much murderous intent. It brimmed with calm and peace. It was like Barairo didn’t even exist.
“Why did you stop?”
“I was good. But it was only an outlet for my frustration. I couldn’t control her anymore. She consumed me to the point everything I did felt empty,” you said with a heavy sigh.
“Barairo is in the past. She was angry and upset at the world. The best thing I could do for her is let her go. For both my peace and hers.”
“After that, some rich people hired me to get rid of their trash. Bureau officials, clan members stepping wrong, their spouses’ secret lovers. It wasn’t much better but it’s the only job I could do,” you said as you rolled the remaining tea in the cup.
He listened intently as you told him about your past, a part of it at least. He knew you had your limits. You weren’t Barairo anymore. You were Miyu now. And he was the only one to meet both of you.
“You know, the men that work for me are all skilled in steel weapons, like knives or swords. But I don’t have anyone who can shoot a gun on my team.”
He knew what he asked of you was way over the border. What he asked of you was commitment. A long term job. Something you’ve done before that left you asking yourself if anything you were doing was worth it.
“Enishi…”
“I could pay you. Anything. You’d have a roof over your head and… warm tea every night.”
“But I’m not trained in combat properly and I don’t know how to use other weapons. And you saw how my stamina is the worst part about me.”
“I could train you. We could make it become the best thing about you.”
We. He really wanted you here. The truth was that he didn’t want you to wake up tomorrow and go out the door knowing he might never see you again when he finally found you again after all these years.
“You don’t have to give me an answer right now. Just sleep on it and tell me what you decide in the morning,” he said as a small smile graced his lips.
Were you dreaming? Enishi was actually smiling? A real genuine smile that wasn’t his usual cocky grin? Maybe you needed to get to bed first before doing any rational thinking.
“Okay. I’ll think about it,” you say as you got up to put your cup in the sink, heading towards the door. Before you walked off you turned back to Enishi to find him looking right back at you.
“Thank you. For the tea… and everything,” you said, smiling.
With that you quickly spun on your feet and made your way back to your room. Enishi was left in a daze staring at the spot you were at mere seconds ago. He felt his heart squeeze again and punched the feeling away with his fist. Was he getting sick or something?
You got in bed and felt sleep take you as soon as you slipped under the covers. You kind of made up your mind regarding what Enishi asked you. Smiling to yourself you drifted off to sleep.
————————————————————————
You woke up pretty early. The room was still pretty dark with the October mornings keeping the world in slumber for a few more hours. You sat up with a stretch and went over to your bag to pick an outfit for today. Most of your clothes needed serious washing. Going for a clean shirt with silk strings laced up at the front and a pair of practical pants you changed and made your way to the kitchen.
You thought of reviving your cooking skills by making some food for everyone, to repay the hospitality. Counting about ten men you saw around the mansion, including Enishi, you went looking through the cupboards again. Unfortunately, you came to the conclusion that there weren’t enough supplies to make anything.
Just as you were recalculating your plan you caught sight of a figure leaning on the doors that went from the kitchen to the outside terrace. Checking to see who it was, you found the monocle guy from last night.
“Good morning madame,” he saluted you, rather enthusiastically at the ass crack of dawn.
“Good morning…”
“Wu Heixing, madame!”
“Good morning, Wu. You don’t have to call me madame.”
“It’s to show my respect to you as you’re a guest of Master Enishi.” The members of this mafia surprised you one by one.
“Do you happen to know if there’s a market nearby? I want to cook something for you all.”
“There is one in the village down in the valley. You have to go through the meadow though.”
“Thank you.”
“With pleasure, madame.”
You found a shopping basket laying around and got your coin pouch, leaving for the meadow to try and find the village. Just as you reached it, the sun started rising up in the sky. The light made it easier to notice the busying merchants and all their carts already set all around the small square.
Your stomach was growling at the sight before you. Vegetables, fruits, cured meat, pastries. Your mouth watered at all the delicacies. As you were browsing the vendors you spotted the farmer that gave you a ride yesterday. He was in charge of a cart full of fruits. He recognised you right away and sent you a polite smile.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning, miss.”
“Thank you again for the ride yesterday.”
“It was no problem. I’m always glad to help Master Enishi considering all that he does for us.”
He was helping out the villagers? Huh. It seemed like he had more layers to him than you thought. You wanted to find out more.
“What does he help out with?”
“He helps us with the crops every once in a while. He’s also our main customer and always comes here on Sundays to get food for his family.”
Ah, so the villagers don’t know the mafia lives close by and that Enishi is the boss. Or they do, but they’re too charmed by him to question it.
“Is there anything I could get for you, miss?”
“Yes! Give me all the fresh produce you’ve got.”
You went around shopping for everything you needed to prepare a hearty lunch and to have some food around. With your basket full to the brim you checked your coin satchel. You had only one left. Everything you had left from your jobs was spent on all the food you balanced on your arms.
“I spent them well. This was for a good cause,” you thought to yourself, shedding a small tear as you walked back to the mansion.
—————————————————————————
The kitchen smelled absolutely divine. The scent of different flavors danced around in the air, reaching all the way to Enishi’s office. He was fast asleep on the chair after working on plans all night.
Something tingled his nose and made him wake up. A few quick whiffs of the scent made his stomach grumble. The pronounced aroma of a pork roast and the distinctive spices of a vegetable soup put him in a trance.
He was on autopilot as he made a beeline towards the kitchen, debating whom could it be that cooked food this divine. Wu couldn’t stir a soup to save his life. The rest of his goons were not kitchen staff material either. That left only… you.
Pushing open the double doors to the kitchen, the smell was so intense it hit him like a train. He closed his eyes in silent appreciation and just took in the tang of spices sitting in the air.
Opening them he took sight of the whole kitchen. The oven was set on the roast while busy hands worked on stirring the soup on the stove. The island was filled with all different kinds of specialties already prepared. Fruit platters, fried rice, boiled eggs, trays of steamed dumplings, even salads. There was enough to feed a whole army. You definitely thought of everyone around the villa.
Creeping closer he saw you sway around humming a tune foreign to his ears. An orange apron hugged your body and looked adorable on you. You had a small smile on your face as you stirred the contents in the pot and he couldn’t help but smile at you.
An evil idea crossed his mind as he sneaked up behind you and put his hands on your waist. You jumped at the sudden contact and were ready to smack whoever sneaked up on you with the wooden spoon. That was until a familiar chuckle came from behind and you relaxed in the hold.
“I almost had a heart attack,” you say turning around and smacking him on the chest. “Don’t ever sneak up on me like that again.”
“Okay, okay. I won’t. I promise.”
“You better,” you say still smiling.
You stayed like that for a few more moments until the smell of the pork roast getting a little too roasted alerted you it needed to be pulled out of the oven. Breaking away from him, you spun around to the oven and got it out, placing it on the stove to check it. Cutting a small piece you blew air on it and held it to Enishi’s mouth. He hesitated at first, but the rumble of his stomach made him take a bite.
The more he chewed on it the more his insides melted at the amazing taste. He hasn’t had this kind of tasty cooking since his sister. He does cook for his gang members but it could never come close to the magic you made.
“It tastes amazing, Miyu.”
“Thank you,” you say with a smile.
He was melting inside again but he couldn’t tell if it was because of the food or your smile.
“Can I help with anything?”
“Yes! You can call everyone to the table outside and take some of the food out there.”
With a nod he picked up a few trays and headed outside. He was surprised to see the table wiped clean with cutlery and dishes already arranged for everyone.
As soon as the soup was done cooking, you served the food to everyone and went back inside to put everything back to its place. By the time you were done, everyone was done, leaving only you and Enishi at the table.
“Come sit and eat with me.”
“You didn’t eat with everyone?”
“I was waiting for you.”
Despite his stomach protesting at the lack of contents inside he decided to wait for you as you surely didn’t eat anything either.
“Well I’m here now so let’s dig in.”
You piled two plates up high with everything you cooked and dove straight in. The way you were gobbling up food in a very wild manner made Enishi stop mid-way from slurping his bowl of soup to look at you. Despite your lack of table manners, he thought you looked absolutely adorable. Sensing him staring you looked at him and stopped chewing.
“What?” you said with a mouth full of food.
“You have something on your face.”
“I do? Where?”
“Here,” he said as he raised a hand to your lips to get the hanging piece of salad away.
“Thank you.”
The only sounds in the air were of you enjoying the lunch together. The silence made your mind wander back to his question last night.
Did he still want you to stay? What if he changed his mind? What if you made up your mind for nothing? Deciding to get it over with you swallowed the food and took a breath.
“I need to talk to you about something. It’s about what you asked me last night.”
“Go on.”
Taking a chug of water from your glass you braced your throat to tell him your answer.
“I decided… to stay. I’ll join you.”
“Wait. Really?”
“Yes. I don’t really have anything else to do and I could use something to work on for the time being,” you say taking another sip of water.
“Great. Then we can start training tomorrow.” You spit out the water you were drinking back in the glass.
“TOMORROW?! So soon?”
“I don’t have time to waste especially with the failed plan that got me in the precinct a few nights ago. We need to get going.”
You nodded sinking back into your chair as you ate a little slower. You had no idea what awaited tomorrow you, but it should be quite an enjoyable experience to receive training from someone like Enishi.
————————————————————————
There was nothing enjoyable about this shit. Instructor Enishi was a total asshole. You could barely hold your own and he threw you straight into combat with his goons. Something about ‘building character through practice’. You defended all their attacks but you couldn’t get absolutely none in.
“If you’re going to keep defending you will tire out faster than your opponent.” He was watching you from the side as five of his men ambushed you.
“It’s kind of impossible to attack when I don’t know how,” you strained as you defended a few more punches thrown your way. You lost your footing for a second and a punch was dug into your side so harshly that it threw you to the other side of the garden. You groaned as you hit the ground face-down, tasting some grass in your mouth. A pair of feet came into view as you lifted your head up off the ground to see a familiar mop of hair towering over you.
“Giving up already?” he teased as he crouched down next to you.
You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. No, you were going to prove a point. That you belonged here.
So grabbing a fistful of grass you sat up and dusted your clothes of the dirt. Huffing out a breath you ran into the circle of men and went at it again. And again. And again. You only got a few kicks and punches in each time before you were thrown back to the ground.
“Enough. You’re dismissed.”
You leaned against a nearby tree and took a breather. Your face was covered in dirt and dust pricked at your eyes. You were nothing short of frustrated with yourself. Staring at your hands you tried to visualise the attacks she used to do. You couldn’t bring that fight instinct back no matter how hard you tried and it drove you up the fucking wall.
Shooting wasn’t a problem, but combat was essential. You had to rewire those instincts back into you somehow, but you were lost on where to even begin.
Enishi walked over and sat down in front of you. He saw the look in your eyes as you scanned your hands. He could tell you were afraid. You couldn’t let Barairo back in without losing yourself in the process and he had to find a way to help you.
“I saw you fighting back then.” Your eyes snapped up at him as he spoke. “I was amazed at how a small teenage girl could manhandle all those beasts in under a minute. I snuck in a few of your fights and studied the way you moved a lot.”
“If you can’t remember the way, I’ll teach it to you. We can start at the beginning and work our way up again.”
There was that word again. We. He was so adamant on training you the best he could. But he couldn’t do it if you weren’t willing to. It’s not that you didn’t want to. You just couldn’t.
“What if I’m a total waste of time?”
“If you were,” he got up and dusted his pants, “I wouldn’t have asked you to join me.”
That was enough to drive you back to your hopeful self. Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could become good without bringing that monster back. You just needed to try.
—————————————————————————
The next few days were spent running over the basics. Increasing your stamina was the first goal on the list. It looked easy in your head. That was until Enishi turned full commando on you.
You were hiking the hills and the trails around the village at least twice a day. He increased the pace every time you went there. You took short breaks every half an hour only to do sit ups or climb a tree to strengthen your muscles. He always chose the most difficult trees and it felt like it was on purpose at times.
You were currently sat in one of the trees about three meters from the ground, hugging its trunk like a koala as you sat on a branch. You were exhausted out of your mind.
“Come on, Miyu. Move it before it gets dark."
“Can I stay here for five minutes?”
“We’re only halfway through the hike. If you’re not coming down I’m leaving you here.”
“WAIT!”
Despite all the difficulties of training there was one part of it you really enjoyed. The sight of Enishi in a tank top as he walked in front of you. It was the highlight of your day.
You came out of the woods to a clearing, a river running through the dunes and down to the village. Enishi went closer to get some water, gathering it in his hands. After sipping on it he gathered a bit more and swept it back over his face and hair. Droplets of water were shamelessly running down his arms, making his veins sparkle. Some of it was going down his chest soaking his tank top and letting you see a little more of the hidden goodies.
You were sure you were drooling as your trance blurred all of your surroundings. Taking a step forward you failed to see the rocks on the ground, slipping and falling into a grass patch to the side. Enishi’s head snapped to you.
“You good?”
“I’m good,” you say, giving him a thumbs up from your spot on the ground.
You continued on your trail until you reached the last tree line to the top of the hill. Your lungs were heaving and your breath was anything but normal. If I just let myself fall would I reach the bottom faster? Looking behind you to see the distance to the bottom you shook your head to get rid of the thought.
The tree line ended and you came to a big opening. You made it to the top of the hill. So the training was proving a little useful. Only a little.
You pushed your aching limbs to where Enishi was standing. Reaching him you stood up and stretched your body. You saw him looking off into the distance and you followed his eyes to see what he was looking at that had him so captivated.
The minute you laid eyes on the view you fell in love. The hill you hiked was overlooking the village down in the valley and the other hills that were protecting it away from the world. Wait… This was the same as the painting back at the mansion.
You made a habit out of stopping by it before you went to sleep every day. Each time you stood in front of it you noticed other little details hidden inside. The way the trees covered each other, creating a bird shelter for the night. Or the way the hills looked as if they were silently whispering to each other. They couldn’t move to embrace each other but the slopes they laid on together seemed to be enough for them.
Someone was watching you every time you stopped by, unbeknownst to you. Leaning on a wall further behind you, he analysed your face to try and make out your reaction. He was taken aback when all he found was admiration and curiosity, wonder dancing in your eyes as you took in each detail. He got a little confused every time you leaned in closer and quirked your eyebrow at it, only to let out a breath of relief when you sat back and had a grin on your face.
“The painting back at the mansion… the orange and green landscape. Did you paint that?”
He only chuckled in response and went to sit down on the grass, as you followed suit. You both mimicked each other’s position, spreading your limbs on the grass, arms supporting your upper bodies.
“I thought you’d figure it out faster.”
You pushed his shoulder at that remark, ripping another chuckle from him.
“The painting is beautiful. So detailed and intricate in technique. But it does not compare to the real thing. This view is pure art.”
He looked at you as you elaborated on everything you loved about the painting. You seemed to know a lot about the arts. It was nice to have something new in common with you, besides your love for hibiscus tea.
“I’m glad you like it. If you wait just a second… there it is.”
The sky bled orange meeting the green mounds of earth, exactly like the painting. Your breath got caught in your throat as the sunset became more prominent. It was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
Enishi wasn’t focusing on the sunset over the hills. He was watching another sunset happening right beside him. Your cheeks were flushed pink from the effort you put into hiking. The light breeze was brushing your hair with every wave in the air and your clothes were sticking to you uncomfortably. But you looked absolutely serene. He wished he could paint this view instead of any landscape in the world.
—————————————————————————
You got back to the mansion just before it got dark. Grabbing an apple you ate it and quickly dashed to the bathroom to get out of your sweaty clothes and enjoy a bath. You made the mistake of sitting on your bed before actually getting to the bathroom, laying down on top of the duvet.
“I’ll just close my eyes for five minutes.”
Those five minutes turned into a few hours. Enishi was looking for you to ask if you’ve eaten anything. As he came to your room he noticed the door was open halfway. Knocking on it he called your name but got no response. Pushing it open he took in the sight of you sprawled on your bed still in your training clothes. His heart warmed up so much he thought it would burst. You must’ve been so tired.
Coming closer to your bed he sat down on the edge. Your head was sitting uncomfortably on the duvet so he gently put a hand under your head and lifted it to place a pillow under it. Laying your head back down he let his hand card through your hair to let it loose. You sighed in your sleep at the action, a smile tugging on your lips.
He smoothed a hand from your temple down to your cheek and you took him by surprise turning on your side, curling into him. Your hand grabbed at his shirt and he was locked into place with no way to escape.
His heart started beating rapidly as he looked at you. You had his shirt into a death grip as if you were holding an anchor that could bring you back from dreamland to the real world. He found himself smiling again. It started coming out more naturally the more he was with you.
He folded his big hand over your small one and stroked it lightly to get you to loosen your hold. Your fist unclenched and you let him free. He slowly got up from the bed careful not to wake you. Finding a spare blanket he draped it over you so you wouldn’t get cold. He smoothed your hair once more to get some stray hairs away from your face and went out the door, softly closing it behind him. He couldn’t stop smiling.
—————————————————————————
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dimdiamond · 1 year ago
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You know, what really strikes me with Tintin in Tibet is at the beginning, when Tintin gets Chang's letter, Haddock has no idea of who this boy is. Normally, we would expect, considering how important is for Tintin his friendship with Chang and vice versa, that Tintin would have talked about Chang at least once to Haddock and yet it seems like he hasn't. Understandably, our first thought is to be weirded out and kinda disappointed with Tintin and blame Herge for not handling his cast properly. But, I read this as how Tintin's character is.
I don't know how often Tintin and Chang exchange letters and how they keep in touch but it seems that it's not that often, or even if it is, Tintin doesn't get into the trouble to explain Haddock (hiding it from him is another explanation but I don't think it's that possible, considering Tintin's and Haddock's friendship and characters and how, if this was the case, Tintin wouldn't explain to Haddock from who the letter is and what it says). However, we see Tintin being really excited to receive Chang's letter and thrilled to meet him again after so long. So, the possibility of Tintin not cherishing or remembering his friend is nonexistent, especially if we take into consideration what happens to the rest of the book. Then why Tintin hasn't talked about Chang to Haddock? Has he even told him about his previous adventures, before meeting him?
I believe that this scene shows exactly Tintin's character and how he handles opening up to others. Simply he doesn't if he doesn't see any reason to do so. He tends to be secretive not from malice or anything bad, but because he isn't comfortable with being the centre of attention. Yeah, ironically, the famous journalist prefers to be a spectator and a listener than be on the scene and talk. Certainly this has helped to his job and his fame, as, even we, the readers, can't help but want to know more about him and see him. Tintin doesn't aim for this attention though and that's what it makes him appealing as a character.
Back to our topic, Tintin rarely talks about himself and when he does is because it just happened, not planning or intending to do so, and even then he gives so few information about him and his life (for example "I interviewed a pilot" and then never mentions it again). It is possible that Tintin has mentioned his trip to Shanghai or something of his adventure there but never went to the details. And this is the interesting part where Haddock hasn't asked for more details. More than once, Haddock has shown his respect to Tintin and his limits and never pressured him to anything. This is how their friendship, and most of their friendships with others, go. They accept each other for who they are now and their past won't change their opinion on them (actually they focus too much to the present but this is another topic). So, if this applies to both of them, why the need to say more?
My point with all this is that, instead of seeing Tintin's lack of mention of his friend (and any other irl person's to be frank) as something bad and mean, we should see it as how Tintin is and this doesn't diminish his feelings and his care and his bonds with others. For Tintin (and even Haddock) not talking about someone or something doesn't equal to dismissing it. He doesn't feel the need to say out loud something that he knows and feels already. If it happens to be mentioned he will talk and he won't lie. If it doesn't happen to be mentioned, then he won't initiate the talk. And for this exact reason I believe that Chang knows about Haddock and Calculus and maybe Nestor from Tintin's letters. Because Tintin's life and adventures revolves around them and he can't say something about him without mentioning them at least once (and probably after Tibet and staying home more the mentions become more and more).
Basically Tintin has the attention span of a cat (between other characteristics) and if something doesn't happen right in front of him he won't acknowledge it and that doesn't make him a bad person and friend.
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kathaynesart · 1 year ago
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...what must we do for you to learn what happened in Shanghai?
I have received SO many questions about this 0_o
Hm, I’ll tell you what, I’m considering creating a Patreon in which I’ll include extra Replica content (mostly art pieces with written excerpts/summaries). CHECK FOR POLL BELOW. It would just be fun/dramatic flavor scenes that are not important to the plot of Replica. Things like:
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what actually happened in Shanghai
drama after Leo discovers they had been keeping the truth of the key from him
more Central Park Colony tom-foolery
raising baby Junior
creation of Omega and Donnie's interaction with him
Mind you, these are all things that would normally be too much for me to do for on top of Replica, as a lot of my free time is already dedicated to this comic (and I am very slow). But this could help me a lot with extra expenses and would be a nice way to cover a few things I don't feel I'd have the time to do in the actual comic. It would also be an opportunity to see comic updates in advance and possibly tutorials.
We shall see though. I don’t want to proceed with it further until done with the holiday special and some other Zine work. Once I'm back on the usual updates I'll have to figure out a possible schedule and if it's truly doable. But let me know if you would actually be interested in this, because it would really help with my decision!
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fairsexynasty · 1 year ago
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—DIFFICULT THINGS
jamie tartt x lasso!reader
ONE. TOWNIE
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summary: lucy moves to richmond with a memory that doesn’t quite forget what her dad did to her. however, ted is as happy as a goldfish.
warnings: cursing, unlikeable female protagonist, father issues, abandonment issues, resentment
a/n: welcome to this very new series i WILL finish. my love for this show has overtaken my time and i am very excited to be writing this. this chapter is set during “two aces.”
——————
Leonard Cohen once said, “There’s a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.” But my world has been infused with the darkest of shadows. Everywhere I search is covered by a dark spot. It seeps into my life from my dreams, nightmares, and memories. I don’t think I was delivered by the hand of God, nor will I be expecting any blessing in the near future. It’s the hope that kills you.
I had that epiphany when I turned seven. No one had ever seen a child so jaded, so self-aware. When I learned that the father I wished for wasn’t that interested in fully being in my life, I accepted it entirely, for what it was worth. He’s popped in and out, coming in as quickly as he leaves, only sticking around for moments he deemed essential to me.
And the worse part is that he’s a good man—a good man with a daughter who felt evil.
I used to wish something terrible would happen to me. A broken collarbone. A car accident. Cancer. If something like that happened to me, I thought he’d return and stay for good.
But those things never happened. I’ve never broken any bones. I’ve never crashed my car into a tree. I’m perfectly healthy. And after all this time, Dad has moved on.
I have a half-brother. Thirteen or fourteen years my junior, it’s disgusting how I’m not too sure about the gap. I’ve never met him, nor do I want to meet him. I envy a child who cannot understand the weight of the word ‘father’ because he’ll always take it for granted.
When I crawl through my memories, I can see Dad crystal clear. He showed up to every one of my birthdays until age sixteen. That’s probably because my brother was old enough to ask and understand why Dad was leaving him. Dad came to my first dance, a father-daughter dance. It was one of the nights I honestly felt pretty. He and I danced the night away, stuffing our faces with candy and desserts and drinking our weight’s worth of soda pop. Dad taught me how to ride a bike. Although it ended with scraping my knees, he helped me up, cleaned my knees, and kissed each one. Dad drove me to my first day of high school. The morning went by quickly, but I can still remember the smile on his face as I waved goodbye to him and walked through the school doors.
I want to be thankful for what I’ve gotten from my dad. But he could have done so much more. Am I not worth the effort?
And it hurts to hate my mother as much as I do.
She could clean up her act for Dad, but once he was on his way home, she’d finally ease into consciousness. We would fight. She’d accuse me of not appreciating her. She’d belittle me and never congratulated me on my accomplishments. She’s manipulative. Controlling. Narcissistic. Evil. I know I’m no good, either. But women like that love confrontation. And she got the best of me every single time.
But I’m a grown woman now. I’m twenty. I have a life. A freedom I’ve never known. I’m trying to be honest, to prove I am everything Mom never thought I’d be. I’m trying to make Dad proud of me. Because everyone else is sure as hell proud of him, he’s Ted Lasso: a simple man with a simple plan who was pulled to spread his kindness in Richmond, England, by coaching their god-awful team. I watched the news with a frown as soon as they announced his new endeavor. If he got a new beginning, why can’t I?
And that’s why I decided to pack up my things and move to England.
I’ve been here before. My mother and I moved around due to her line of work. Whether it was Shanghai, Princeton, Kuala Lumpur, or Rome, I could never call those places home. I feel like Richmond is going to be different. I’m not hopeful. Just curious.
——
The park seems comforting. There appears to be a rhythm that compliments the people. Kids playing soccer, and shops opening for the day.
I sit and watch the world awaken. People pass me by as I sit on the bench, not one of them stopping their routine for me, except one.
lHis greetings were met with responses of “Wanker,” a word I found oddly endearing. He continued down the park trail, saying ‘good morning’ to me mindlessly.
I replied with a deadpan “Wanker,” which surprised him, given my American accent. He turned back, his eyes lighting up in recognition.
“Oh, my lordy-lord,” he muttered, smiling as he said my name, “Lucy.” He looks at me as if I’m a fucking unicorn. His eyes soften, and the smile that always reaches his eyes is suddenly on his face. “ Lucy !” he breathes out as if he’s too scared to say it louder like I’ll run away and leave.
“Hi, Dad.” He pulls me from my seat on the bench and envelops me into the biggest bear hug I’ve ever gotten from him. And those hugs are grizzly and unrelenting.
He lifts me off my feet and holds my head to his shoulder. “Oh, how I love you, Lucy girl. I can’t believe it!”
I groan, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Dad, please put me down. I'm not as tiny as Henry is," I say with a laugh. He puts me down with a smile, but there’s a flash of a solemn look on his face. I guess my mention of Henry has filled him with some semblance of guilt. I can’t tell if that satisfies me or not. "I think you're wondering why I'm here," I say, the false smile still on my face. "And the only reason is because I wanted to see you, Dad. I missed you," I add, trying to perfect the role of the doting daughter, even though it doesn't come naturally.
“Oh, I missed you too, Pumpkin. I’m glad you’re here.” He spots my luggage standing against the bench. “Looks like you’re gonna be visiting for a while, huh?”
I nod slowly, my gaze briefly shifting away. "Yeah, I am. Needed a change of scenery for a while," I admit, hoping he won't probe further into my true reasons for being here.
Dad nods, but I spot him scanning my face for any information I won’t outwardly tell him. Perhaps it’s a parently instinct, or maybe it’s just a Ted Lasso thing. The smile on my face doesn’t falter.
“So, how’s your mom?”
The question hangs in the air, and I can sense the curiosity in his eyes. I clench my jaw and roll my eyes in annoyance. "I really don't want to talk about her right now," I say firmly, hoping to steer the conversation away from a topic I'd rather avoid.
Dad gives me one of those fatherly smiles, understanding my need for privacy but also indicating he'll inquire about it later. "Alright then. How about we get you settled into my place? Don't care if you've found one already. I got you here with me, and you're not going anywhere, missy. I hope that's alright with you," he adds, his face hopeful as he waits for my response.
I acquiesce to his requests. It’s the least I can do. “Sure, Dad. I’d love to.”
He cheers with a fist pump, then wrangles me into yet another bear hug before I tell him he’s crushing my ribs, and he dramatically lets me go with a pout on his face.
I follow him down the streets to his apartment door. We enter, and it’s pretty lovely, yet it feels so hollow. There’s an opened jar of peanut butter on the island. I can tell he radiates joy as we unpack my things into an extra bedroom. I wonder how lonely he’s been without his son and wife.
Yeah. This is the least I can do.
——
After unpacking and settling in, Dad practically begs me to come to Nelson Road with him, and since I’m already feeling a bit guilty, I come along with him.
Upon entering, some guy with a full beard and eyebrows that make him look perpetually constipated looks at me. Well, it’s more of a glare. He walks up to Dad and me, not once taking his eyes off me. I narrow my eyes in response, shooting him a cold glare of my own. “Who the fuck is this? Don’t tell me Rebecca hired another fucking American.” His voice is deep and rumbling and full of snark.
"Seriously, do all British guys walk around with a stick up their ass?" I quip, but my remark falls on deaf ears. I catch the man clenching his jaw at my question. Ah, it seems he doesn't take kindly to being disrespected. One jab at his masculinity, and he's ready to go to war without a second thought.
"Roy Kent, meet my daughter, Lucille," Dad introduces, but I quickly interject, "Lucy to you." I emphasize my preference, not one to stand on formality. "Who the fuck are you, Roy Kent?" I ask, gauging his reaction as he looks between me and my dad, clearly trying to figure something out. I decide to clear the air, "Yeah, my mom isn't Michelle," I clarify, hoping to put any confusion to rest.
Roy's response is a simple "Oh," followed by a grunt as he exits the scene. My dad remains unfazed and carries on, guiding me towards the locker room with his arm casually draped around my shoulder.
"Coach Beard! We've got a new cast member!" Dad announces to the room as we walk out together, seemingly excited to introduce me to his colleagues.
A man with a book and a golf hat turns his chair around and observes us. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the fussbudget,” he says. “Hello, Lucy. I’m Coach Beard. I’ve heard all about you.”
I can't help but snort at the situation. "That's impossible," I retort with a snarky tone. Coach Beard finds my reaction amusing, letting out a chuckle, while my dad gives a slight frown, but I know a few jabs won't easily rattle him.
Suddenly, a strong voice breaks the chatter, announcing, "Ayo, the gaffer's got another kid!" The rest of the men turn their attention to me, their eyes filled with wonder and intrigue. They excitedly chat, asking if they saw what they think they did.
Exiting the office, we step into the open room where my dad proudly introduces me to the team. "Fellas, I'd like to introduce you to my daughter. This is Lucy, everyone."
The players greet me with waves and hellos, except for one guy sitting on the bench, engrossed in his phone, occasionally laughing. I point him out, asking, "Who's that?"
"Jamie Tartt. Hey, Beard, what's the deal with Jamie?" my dad inquires, and seemingly out of nowhere, Jamie appears beside us without making a sound.
Beard responds, "Says he can't practice today. Says he's hurt."
I observe my dad's face dropping with disappointment as he turns to walk out the door and over to Jamie, concern etched across his features.
The whole situation was intense, and I couldn't recall ever seeing my father this angry before. It seemed like there had never been an opportunity for him to get this worked up until now. Watching him unleash his frustration on Jamie reminded me of my mom, who had her share of heated moments. While my dad appeared to be justified in his outburst, Jamie's disrespectful behavior only reinforced my 'British men suck shit' theory.
Feeling overwhelmed, a tingling sensation crept into my head, and my heart raced with the familiar signs of an impending panic attack. I needed to escape, so I swiftly turned on my heel and walked out of the office, trying to distract myself by fiddling with the rings on my fingers.
Wandering aimlessly down the halls, I searched for a private space to catch my breath and calm down. Passing a laughing man, a short guy carrying a laundry bag, and a stunning blonde woman who seemed out of place here, I stopped in my tracks when I heard my dad's name mentioned in a hushed conversation.
"Rebecca, I don't think Coach Lasso will be too thrilled about you trading Jamie away.”
“Higgins, listen to me. I don't care if Lasso is trying to get through to Jamie or if he begs him to come back. Jamie is not returning, and that's precisely what I need," she asserts before abruptly changing the subject, "Now, let me go hunt down my biscuits. They're late."
Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Dad is being sabotaged. All this time, I believed he was here to make a positive impact on the team, but it turns out they see him as nothing more than a joke. Stepping away from the door, I attempt to make a quick exit, only to collide with a statuesque woman who towers over me.
She glances down at me, exuding power through her stature and fashion, but I'm not intimidated. "Why, hello there, whoever you are. Are you lost?" she inquires.
Ah, this must be Rebecca. The woman who plans to screw my father over. I can't help but roll my eyes at her. "No. Just looking for the bathroom," I retort.
Rebecca gestures towards the sign, displaying her passive-aggressiveness. "Well, it's just around the corner. Right where the 'bathroom' sign is," she points out.
"Cool," I respond nonchalantly, not letting her faze me. "Oh, and by the way, my name's Lucy. Thanks for hiring my dad to coach!"
I catch a flicker of terror in Rebecca's eyes before I walk away, grinning to myself. Drama seems to follow me wherever I go, even in Richmond. Old habits die hard, I suppose.
——
After my quick trip to the loo, I wander over to the dog track, where Dad and Beard stand, closely observing the team's training session. I can't help but chuckle at Jamie's predicament as he wears a penny and sets up cones.
Dad notices my arrival and playfully calls out, "Oh, there you are, Waldo! What were you doing?"
His attempts at humor fail to catch me off guard. While I understand his references, I refuse to engage in the corniness. "Nothing, just using the bathroom," I reply with a mischievous grin, not willing to spill the beans about Rebecca's scheming ways. "Oh, and I met Rebecca. She seems nice," I lie sarcastically, well aware of her conniving nature.
Before Dad can respond, a rather handsome player approaches us gracefully. "Hello there. Sorry, Coach Lasso, but I couldn't continue practice without introducing myself to our guest," he says with a charming smile. "My name is Sam Obisanya. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lucy. The other players and I were wondering if you'd care to join us on the field for a few minutes. We'd like to have some fun at Jamie's expense. Is that alright?"
I return Sam's smile and reply, "Uh, sure. But I haven't played in years, dude. Not sure I'll be any good among you professionals.”
Sam brushes off my concerns, reassuring me, "Oh, that's alright, Lucy. I'm sure Thierry will let you score a couple of goals. Come on!" With that, he guides me towards the field, announcing to the team, "She said yes, you guys!" Their enthusiastic cheers fill the air.
As we assemble for a quick game, a guy with a buzzed fade named Isaac addresses me, confirming my name, "Alright, Lucy, is it?" I nod, and he explains the teams, "We're gonna split into five and five, and you're gonna play with the lads who ain't got a kit on."
"Sounds good," I respond with enthusiasm. I turn to the guys without kits, and each extends a hand for a handshake. I go down the line, shaking hands with each one. There's a short man with curly hair, Bumbercatch, followed by a tall fellow with a broad smile, Jan Maas. Then, a highly energetic man named Dani Rojas greets me, not wasting any time to exclaim, "Football is life!" right in front of me. The last guy, a mousey brunette named Colin, completes the line-up.
Quickly getting into formation with my newfound teammates, they place me front and center for the play. I'm facing off with Sam, who gives me a friendly smile. At the sound of the whistle, we both dash for the ball, but I swiftly take control and dribble it down the field. Roy Kent charges towards me, determined to tackle the ball away, but I outmaneuver him with a quick juke, causing him to land on his ass. The guys react with astonishment, and suddenly, the game shifts from Sam's gentle start to full intensity.
Isaac rushes towards me, sporting a determined expression, but I pass the ball to Dani Rojas, who's open and ready. Dani drives it down the field, but as soon as he spots an opportunity, he passes it back to me. With precision, I shoot the ball into the goal, leaving the goalkeeper stunned as it whizzes past him.
The entire team stands in complete silence, including my dad and Coach Beard, who are both staring at me with their mouths agape. The momentary hush is broken by Jamie Tartt, who teasingly remarks, "Ay, wanker's kid just got you real good, lads." He winks at me, provoking a gag from me followed by a flip-off.
Isaac can't contain his excitement, exclaiming, "Shit, bruv! You just broke Roy Kent's ankles!"
Roy growls behind me, clearly not pleased with being outplayed. "You got fucking lucky, kid," he grumbles.
I don't back down, confidently replying, "Luck's got nothing to do with it. Either you're cursed or you just ate shit, Kent."
I have to admit, Richmond has exceeded my expectations thus far, but I won't let it get the best of me just yet.
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accio-victuuri · 7 months ago
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oh. i guess it’s not letting up. magnolia awards — ehem — maybe we should just call it shanghai regional bias awards is shaking. wof production is too. whoever paid for that “media account” that popped out of nowhere is wiped by genuine people/fans of the show and their reaction. it’s so obvious that it was paid. it is the only article that is pro wang yang and deliberately paints what happened as “fan circle” being angry. lol. we are not stupid. the more they try to cover up, the more people wanna fight. they should have stayed silent and posted a more professional explanation on their weibo account later than pay someone to write that bullshit.
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insomniac-jay · 2 months ago
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Wait hold on what happened with Jacnel and Sun-hwa I need to know
Toxic lesbian situationship is what happened. A few important things to know before I get into the lore of their relationship
There's a 5 year age gap between them. Jacnel is currently 26 and Sun-hwa is 21.
Jacnel isn't polyphobic by any means, it just isn't for her. She prefers having one partner and one partner only.
Sun-hwa is poly and ends up getting into a polycule with their girlfriends/teammates post breakup
Sun-hwa has an older sister named Gyuri who has a daughter named Hyun-mi. As I mentioned before, Jacnel is fond of children despite not wanting any herself and her ex's niece is no different
With that outta the way, here's the lore behind their relationship
They met at an afterparty for a tournament. Jacnel was in the middle of her career as a duelist while Sun-hwa was just beginning. At the time, Sun-hwa didn't have a lot of relationship experience while Jacnel had recently broken things off with her previous girlfriend. Already there are two different power imbalances here.
Sun-hwa had developed a crush on Jacnel mainly because she was their type (tall, long dark hair, favorite color is red) and decided to act on it by asking her out at the party. Having just gotten out of a relationship, Jacnel wasn't really looking for anything or anyone else at the moment; so you can imagine her shock and annoyance when a younger person comes up to her and asks her if she'd like to go out with them.
Like I said before, 5 year age gap. At the time, Sun-hwa was 20 and Jacnel was 25.
Taking their age difference into consideration, Jacnel initially was going to turn them down but accepted simply because she wanted to see how it would play out. Plus it'd be good entertainment for her.
The day of the first date arrives. The amount of effort Sun-hwa put into it was unimaginable. The best restaurant in Shanghai (where Jacnel lives) with them paying for all the food, hired her favorite singer to perform for them, and more all to impress her.
Jacnel liked this. Not only was Sun-hwa a lovestruck fool, they were one she could use for her own convenience. As long she put in the minimal amount of effort, they'd stay regardless of whether she liked them or not (which she didn't).
So the relationship goes on for a few months. Sun-hwa immediately became attached to Jacnel within their first week of "dating" meanwhile she put very little emotional connection or intimacy into anything.
Even when Sun-hwa wanted to get intimate with her, Jacnel would always blow them off or put no effort into it. Part of her was glad that she wasn't wasting any of her monies on dates and gifts for someone she didn't even notice until they came up to her.
The first rift in their relationship begins as soon as Sun-hwa brings up the topic of polyamory. They want more partners. Jacnel is not on board with this because a) it would mean she has to put in effort for someone she isn't even interested in and b) she would rather die than ever have to share her partner's attention with someone else. This leads to them having an argument where Jacnel lowkey gaslights Sun-hwa by telling them to "get real".
It's also during this time that Jacnel begins talking to other women and hooking up with them behind Sun-hwa's back (or it didn't matter since she wasn't official with them if you ask her).
Eventually the "couple" go to Korea together to meet Sun-hwa's family. By this time, Gyuri has returned from Japan (which is a whole different story) and is raising Hyun-mi on her own as a single mother while also attending law school. During the visit, Jacnel becomes very fond of Hyun-mi and is more emotionally connected to her than to her own partner. Sun-hwa begins to notice this and slowly begins to have an epiphany over the week they're in Korea.
The straw that broke the camel's back was when Jacnel started wearing the bracelet Hyun-mi made for her. On the way back to their hotel, they get into an argument. That's where Jacnel lays out everything about how she never loved Sun-hwa and they were "bad entertainment" if anything.
Sun-hwa breaks down, cusses her out, and tells her that they're done and they never want to see her again. Jacnel, being the mean girl she is, tells them, "It's your fault for being dumb and lovestruck. Maybe learn to get some standards for once and stop falling for aesthetics."
Mind you, all takes place within the span of 5 months.
But here's where things get a little messy: in the beginning of their new relationship, Sun-hwa was actually still messaging her and even flew to Shanghai to meet up with her behind their new partners' backs only to get left high and dry because Jacnel was in a different country with her new girlfriend of the week.
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ruanbaijie · 2 months ago
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During the Republican Era, Shen Zhiheng, a member of the Tianjin gentry who happened to be a vampire, offended the Japanese and became the target of an assassination attempt. He was saved by a blind young lady, Mi Lan, and his best friend Situ Weilian. When he went to repay Mi Lan for saving him, he discovered the terrible family situation that Mi Lan was in, and so began to pay more attention to her. Meanwhile, Shen Zhiheng’s plan to take revenge on Li Yingliang, the mastermind behind his assassination, fell short of success thanks to Li Yingliang’s Japanese superior, raising suspicions about his identity. Since then, Li Yingliang and the Japanese were in hot pursuit of Shen Zhiheng, determined to dig out the truth about his secret.
Please do not repost this anywhere else or retranslate it!
MAIN DIRECTORY ☾ READ ON AO3 ☾ PREVIOUS CHAPTER
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Shen Zhiheng was extremely embarrassed after dressing up as a ghost and fooling around, trespassing on private property in the middle of the night to scare a woman. Fortunately, one night later, the Mi mansion was silent, and he evidently had not caused that big of a trouble.
Putting the events of the Mi family aside for a while, he found Situ Weilian, telling him, “I want to go into hiding for a bit.”
Situ Weilian was shocked. “You? Hide?”
Shen Zhiheng did not even give any face to the Japanese, yet now he said that he wanted to go into hiding. Situ Weilian thought at first that he had caused a catastrophe again, but after some asking, he found out that Shen Zhiheng did not want to hide from some important person, but from that Li Yingliang. Li Yingliang was simply too interested in him, and now, as long as Shen Zhiheng set foot out of the door, he would definitely have two spies tailing him. They didn’t disturb his life; they just simply followed him.
Situ Weilian started complaining to Shen Zhiheng, “You really have nothing better to do as well, you just had to pit yourself against the Japanese. What, do you actually want to be a patriot?”
“I’m Chinese. Since the Japanese are so arrogant in China, is it too much for me to scold them a little in the newspaper? Besides, I didn’t spread any rumours. I have evidence for it all.”
Situ Weilian snorted. “You’re still saying you’re Chinese; if your identity got exposed, you can’t even be a human, let alone Chinese [1] .”
Shen Zhiheng suddenly lowered his voice and asked, “What about I kill Li Yingliang now to avoid any future problems?”
Situ Weilian shook his head continuously, “No, no, that’s too dangerous. Instead of killing people, I’d rather you go far away and hide for a while.”
“Okay then. I’ll go to Shanghai for a while, and take the opportunity to travel a little.”
“But without me, what will you do when you get hungry?”
“Of course it’ll be a little troublesome without you, but there will definitely be a way. Didn’t I not starve to death during those years before I met you?”
Situ Weilian frowned, “Don’t tell me you’ll find some chicken, duck, goose, dog, or cat, and then–” he pretended to hold something in his hands, lowering his head and biting into the air, “–like that?”
Shen Zhiheng smiled. “That’s about right.”
Situ Weilian rubbed his lower jaw hesitantly. “I’ll request for leave from the hospital, then go together with you.”
Hearing this, Shen Zhiheng was perplexed. “I’ll spend my own days in Shanghai, and it’s not like it’s a must for you to witness how unsightly I look when I’m eating. Is there really a need for you to follow me all the way to Shanghai?”
Situ Weilian grinned. “I’m worried that you’ll have so much fun in Shanghai that you'll never return. If you really never return, whom will I sponge off?”
Situ Weilian really went to Shanghai with Shen Zhiheng.
Shen Zhiheng had a Western-style house in Shanghai. The two of them stayed there, and passed their days quite comfortably. They stayed there until the New Year had passed, when they had received several telegraphs urging Shen Zhihen to return to take part in a shareholder general assembly. The two of them then packed up their luggage and set off on their journey home. Objectively speaking, Shen Zhiheng was in good spirits during these few months in Shanghai. It was just that his meals were too awful, causing him to constantly feel like there was a fly in the ointment. Situ Weilian made daily trips to the food market to buy chickens, ducks, and geese, and would use a syringe to extract the blood into a glass cup, so that he could satiate his hunger in a slightly elegant manner. However, the fresh blood of animals could ultimately not hold a candle to that of humans, and Shen Zhiheng could clearly feel that he had become a little malnourished.
When they returned to Tianjin, the first piece of breaking news Shen Zhiheng got was: Mrs. Mi had run away!
The one who had run was not a concubine of the Mi family, but Mi Lan’s mother, the legal wife Mrs. Mi. And this Mrs. Mi had not just run away, she had eloped with the family’s driver. According to reports from those who were aware of the matter, one night the previous year, Mrs. Mi seemed to have had a nightmare; in any case, she claimed to have seen a ghost, and was so terrified that she had fallen a little ill. From then on, she had instructed the driver to sleep on the floor outside her bedroom, because there was only one man in the entire household, and Mrs. Mi wanted to borrow his masculine energy to keep the evil spirits at bay.
As Mrs. Mi had been a grass widow for more than ten years, after always behaving appropriately, the old maids at home didn’t read too much into it when she instructed the driver to work the night shift for her outside her bedroom door, and would always sleep deeply every night. Little had they unexpected that the driver’s masculine energy was too overwhelming, and would actually break through the room door and invade Mrs. Mi’s lonely heart. Mrs. Mi was not yet past thirty something years of age. She maintained herself well, and was still young both in the body and at heart. Now, lying on the bed and tossing and turning, she would cry silently as she thought, thinking that if she were to grow old living her life like that, it would be too unfair of a treatment for her.
Some people said that Mrs. Mi was the one who had opened the room door and let the driver in, and others said that the driver had deliberately seduced Mrs. Mi. In any case, whoever the main culprit was, they had engaged in a passionate tryst, and not long after the New Year had passed, the two of them had taken a few valuables with them and had gone missing together. After being cuckolded, General Mi was extremely furious on the surface, but in private, he was extremely relaxed. This was because his legal wife was simply too unlikeable. It was a good thing that had scrammed; it saved him from having to find a reason in the future to divorce her.
More than half of the old maids in the Mi mansion left, with the remaining few after the house and Young Mistress Mi at the same time. As her biological mother was gone, it could be said that Young Mistress Mi had managed to escape the abyss of misery. She no longer suffered from harassment; at least, no one now dared to randomly give her a cruel beating.
Shen Zhiheng would never have thought that Situ Weilian’s idea, which seemed like it was just horsing around, would actually result in such a big chain reaction, and eventually actually saved Mi Lan’s life. He kept thinking about going to visit Mi Lan, however, Situ Weilian did not approve.
“You’re still bothering about her? Until when do you intend to bother about her? Even if you’re repaying a favour, there’s no such thing as repaying it for a lifetime, unless you marry her.” 
Shen Zhiheng was used to Situ Weilian’s thoughtless thinking, and calmly explained the principles of human relationships to him, “To be honest, previously, I didn’t dare to openly visit her at home because I was afraid of that Mrs. Mi. Now that Mrs. Mi is gone, and that Li Yingliang is no longer bothering me, I think that she and I can still be friends.”
“Then, what if Young Mistress Mi misunderstands you and falls in love with you?”
“What nonsense, how young is she, don’t talk about love!”
“Who cares if she’s old or young. Anyway, you’re a man, and she’s a woman.”
“You’re thinking too far ahead, who knows if we have a future.” As he spoke, he lit his cigar, and then he pointed it at Situ Weilian. “You and I are alike. You always say that you’ll take care of me for a lifetime, but I worry that before you get to grow old, I would have already become neither human nor ghost, and you can no longer take care of me. Now that there’s a chance, I’m making use of it to treat you as best as I can, and to treat her as best as I can!”
Situ Weilian shrugged. “Do as you wish.” Then, he raised a hand. “Then give me a little more money.”
Shen Zhiheng frowned. “I’m not your father, why should–”
“I want to invite Second Young Mistress Jin to dinner and to dance. Second Young Mistress Jin is rich, if I were to approach her with not enough pomp, she would not even spare me a glance.”
“Even when you spend money, you don’t get good results. Even if she really marries you, will you be able to support her?”
“I dare not have such an extravagant wish as her marrying me. If she is willing to look at me properly and share a few dances with me, I will be happy enough. Money, money, give me two hundred.”
As he usually did, Shen Zhiheng gave him a cheque. After Situ Weilian left with the cheque, Shen Zhiheng also prepared a present, and while there was still light in the sky, he headed to the Mi mansion.
The Mi mansion truly seemed like it had a change in weather.
In the past, perhaps because of its grievous and indignant mistress, the Mi mansion always had an extremely tense atmosphere, as if furious yells and howls would erupt at any moment. However, it was different now. The main gates of the Mi mansion were half open, and the outsides and insides were both quiet. A maidservant held a large watering can, watering the plants in the yard indifferently.
With the present in his hand, Shen Zhiheng walked through the gates.
“Excuse me, is your young mistress at home?” he asked the maidservant.
The maidservant lifted her head, answering with the same listlessness, “May I have your name, Sir? Our young mistress is at home, but I will have to go and inform her first.”
Shen Zhiheng replied, “My surname is Shen, I’m General Mi’s friend, and I am also acquainted with your young mistress. I left a few months ago and only returned to Tianjin last week, and have come specially to visit your young mistress.”
The maidservant went “oh”, putting down the watering can and entering the house. A little while later, she came out again, and said with the same wooden expression, “Mr. Shen, please enter. Our young mistress is waiting for you in the parlour.”
Shen Zhiheng walked up the steps and into the house. There was not a single person in the house. He remembered the location of the parlour, but after walking a few steps, a creak came from behind him; that maidservant had closed the house doors.
Turning around to look, a strange feeling settled inexplicably in his heart. Before him hung a curtain of pearls, beyond which was the Mi family parlour. Through the pearl curtain, he vaguely saw a silhouette sitting on the sofa. He held the curtain aside and walked in.
“Mi Lan.”
Mi Lan suddenly stood up, fiercely mouthing, “Go!”
But it was too late.
Two machine guns were pressed against his left and right ribs. He subconsciously tossed the present aside, wanting to grab the guns, but a person stood up silently from behind the sofa, holding a pistol against the back of Mi Lan’s neck.
“Mr. Shen, it’s been a while.”
Shen Zhiheng was shocked. “Li Yingliang?”
Li Yingliang smiled at him. “I’ve waited for you for a week. Fortunately, providence does not let down those who try.”
Footsteps rang out from the top and bottom floors. Black-clad men, armed to the teeth, swarmed into the parlour, and Shen Zhiheng realised that the Mi mansion had already been occupied by Li Yingliang’s men.
Shen Zhiheng’s shock passed, and fury started to burn in its place. What did Li Yingliang want to do? Was he not done yet? In order to hide from this man’s pestering, he had already run off to Shanghai and stayed there for a few months; was that not enough?
In the end, he was the one who had been naïve. He had wanted to live a dignified and peaceful life, refraining from violence and murder as much as he could. However, it was pointless if he was the only one who wanted to live this way, as Li Yingliang did not.
“Waited for me for a week?” he asked Li Yingliang, “You really are quite persistent when it comes to me.”
Li Yingliang shook his head, frowning, “Sigh. What do you mean just persistent? It’s nothing short of earnest, well-intentioned thinking! If you don’t believe me, ask Young Mistress Mi. Ever since I heard that you had returned to Tianjin, I’ve been staying here, waiting for you to come. After waiting day after day, I really suffered a lot! But, it’s okay if I suffered, as long as the results are good, then I wouldn’t have suffered in vain. Wouldn’t you say so, Mr. Shen?”
Shen Zhiheng lowered his head and looked at the gun barrels below his ribs. “Then what do you want to do now? Kill me again?”
Li Yingliang waved his hands continuously. “No, no, no. How would I dare to? This time, you don’t have to do anything, just follow me.”
He shot a glance at the people at the sides. Two black-clad men walked up, holding a thick rope that was made of steel mixed with leather. The second he saw the material of this rope, Shen Zhiheng knew that things were not looking great for him: it seemed like Li Yingliang was really treating him like a demon.
“You don’t have to go this far,” he said to Li Yingliang. “I’ll follow you. Of course, I also have a request. Do not harm Young Mistress Mi.”
Li Yingliang shot another glance at the black-clad men. They tied Shen Zhiheng’s arms behind his back, looped the rope around his neck, and then escorted him out of the parlour and straight to the back door of the Mi mansion.
The parlour quietened. Li Yingliang kept his pistol, removing two small cotton balls that had been tucked tightly into Mi Lan’s ears. He had noticed that this girl’s hearing was far better than a normal person’s. Even after blocking her ears so tightly, he could still not rob her of her hearing completely. However, blocking her ears was still better than leaving them free. If not, she could escape from his grasp just with her sense of hearing alone. Two days ago, she had escaped once, and had nearly succeeded.
After removing the cotton balls, he retrieved a small key and unlocked the handcuffs on Mi Lan’s wrists. Mi Lan’s hands had been kept behind her back, and her large bell sleeves had hidden the handcuffs. 
Then, walking around the sofa, he walked to Mi Lan’s side, and pulled her to sit down. She really resembled his little sister. He had ruthlessly brought men with him and barged into the Mi mansion, confining her and scaring her for seven to eight days; he really should not have. If she were really his little sister, he would now definitely hold her wrists, rubbing the red scars left behind by the handcuffs. It was a pity that she was not. Li Yingliang’s hand stopped midway, and he drew them back with the words “men and women have differences” echoing in his mind.
“Young Mistress Mi, don’t be afraid. I am only taking Mr. Shen back to ask a few questions, and I will definitely not endanger his life. I don’t have a choice either, if I don’t do this, I won’t be able to answer to the Japanese, and the Japanese will kill me. I know that when you had pneumonia, Mr. Shen took care of you, and you owe him a favour. I know everything.”
Mi Lan’s face was cold. “Will you really not kill him?”
Li Yingliang replied gently, as if he were coaxing a child, “We won’t. How do we dare to? He is a man of status, and neither has he broken the law. Who dares to kill him?”
Mi Lan seemed to trust him, saying, “I don’t want your people in my house. I want my own people back.”
“Don’t worry,” Li Yingliang said. “The two old maids who were left here with you have spoiled you. I’ll get worried if you’re left in their care. Wait a while, after I’m done with my affairs these few days, I’ll find another two good maids to come over and take care of you. These few days, just live at home and pass your days as you should. They will be responsible for and take care of you. Whatever you want to do, just order them to do it. I will come back in a few days. If they dare to be disrespectful to you, you can tell me then, I will use a whip to punish them.”
Mi Lan could hear that he was in a hurry to leave. Although his demeanour was calm and peaceful, he had not left any room for negotiation at all for any question, and so she replied with a noncommittal “mm”. She shut her mouth, thinking, “I’ve harmed Mr. Shen.”
She did not think that Li Yingliang was the one who had harmed Mr. Shen; she thought that she was the one who had harmed him. If Mr. Shen did not care about her and did not visit her, he would not have fallen into Li Yingliang’s trap. So, who else could she blame besides herself?
Mi Lan’s physical body lived in a human world where the sun rose and the moon set, but her soul lived in a dark world where the nights were long and never bright.
There was only her in this dark world, and now, there was Shen Zhiheng. Shen Zhiheng himself did not know about this; she had absorbed him into this world with only her knowledge. There were only the two of them, so when one of them was in trouble, the other would not be able to escape. She hated how she had become a bait and attracted Shen Zhiheng to fall into the trap, while Li Yingliang, the one who had set up this trap, had gotten away with impunity, without suffering either hate or punishment.
Because Li Yingliang was someone from the other world, there was a large distance between him and her, and he had nothing to do with her. Besides her gratitude for him sending her home that night, she neither completely liked nor hated him. Even if he were to suddenly die in front of her, she would not have been moved at all.
She only cared about Shen Zhiheng’s safety. She had saved Shen Zhiheng in the past. She had a stake in his life.
Since she had a stake, that meant that she had responsibility. Her dark world was fractured, and a force was pushing her towards the precipice of the human world. She was originally a little scared, but after it passed, fearlessness remained.
Even when fearless, she was cold and aloof. Her heart was empty, with neither courage nor faith. She merely wanted to achieve an important thing or two while she was alive. And these important things in life, either they were done for her sake and her sake alone, or they were done for the sake of Shen Zhiheng.
------------------------------------------------------------
Again, wordplay with the word 人 (rén). A person of Chinese nationality (i.e. Chinese) is 中国人 (zhōng guó rén), literally “China person”. But as a recap, 人 can be used to refer to both a person as in an individual (i.e. in the case of 中国人) and also a person as in a human being.
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takeariskao3 · 1 year ago
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Day 7: Lover written for #SeveralSunlitDaylights & @corneliaavenue-ao3
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a version of this has existed since may of 2020 and it feels so good to finally put it into the universe after sitting on it for three (THREE!) years... i have a feeling i will continue this at some point and hopefully turn it into a full blow fic, but until then, enjoy some non-traditional, pandemic themed, sex pollen, a/b/o dynamics <33
They said it started in China. At the annual festival in Shanghai. 
Some experts claimed the mutation originated because of an uncharacteristically dry winter. Some blamed climate change. Others said it was all part of the cyclical nature of the earth. A purification process. Nature taking its course. 
The more hysterically minded said it was the end of the fucking world. 
Either way, Ginny watched in horror with the rest of Edinburgh as more and more reports flooded the news.
All across the northern hemisphere, the cherry trees were blossoming, and people were going mad.
~~~
The thing about fear was that it spread like wildfire. 
Grocery stores emptied of necessities overnight. The Prime Minister issued stay at home orders, some of the more populated areas even attempted a voluntary curfew. Borders were closed, air traffic came to a grinding halt, restaurants were instructed to only offer takeout, and any non-essential businesses were told to close their doors entirely. 
For a while, it all felt over-cautious. 
At least until the first case hit Cardiff. 
They said the little omega lasted three days in a severe heat until the pain and the dehydration finally rendered her unconscious. Her family rushed her to the emergency room and it was another two days before the hospital identified what was happening to her. They said before she was quarantined, she infected almost thirty people, nine of them hospital staff. 
It spread from twenty-nine confirmed cases to over three-hundred within a week, three-hundred became eight-thousand within the month.
And that was just Wales.
~~~
Birmingham was the third city to reach critical levels of contamination, after Liverpool and Manchester. 
They projected a global spread, the more densely populated areas being hit first. Each day the estimates increased, predicting numbers so catastrophic, there hadn’t been anything like it in over five-hundred years.
The real test, however, was London. 
There were reports that all the major cabinet members had been moved to separate and secure locations. That way if any of them contracted the sickness, at the very least, they wouldn’t infect the rest of the country's leaders. 
The worst part was nobody seemed to know anything. Records of the last pandemic were inconclusive or didn’t exist. No one knew how long the sickness lasted or how debilitating it really was. Less reliable news sources even reported deaths when the first wave hit eastern China, rumours spreading of alphas ripping each other apart over the chance to mate an omega.
But that’s all they were. 
Rumours. 
~~~
Designation had never mattered much to Ginny. It was just something stamped on her birth certificate next to seven pounds two ounces, eighteen inches long. Her ruts weren’t dramatic events, they were hardly even a disruption. Four times a year, she’d get the urge, use her fingers on herself three nights in a row and wait out the subsequent five days of bleeding.
Designation also hasn’t mattered to the world in decades. Suppressants went out of fashion after the turn of the century, the human race’s more animalistic instincts fading with each generation until the ruts and heats became nothing more than quarterly nuisances. Only a very small percentage of the population still needed herbs and homoeopathic blockers to get by, the rest went about their lives business as usual.
Humanity had evolved past such trivial things as Alpha, Beta, and Omega. 
But now, it was all anyone could talk about.
~~~
Dawdling around the townhouse, Ginny took her frustrations out in the form of kneading a lumpy, soon to be loaf of bread while half listening to the news. Her television emitted a scratchy noise every few seconds, but for a dumpster dive, it worked fine enough. Especially since for the six weeks she’d been stuck at home, she’d hardly turned the damn thing off. 
It wasn’t so much that she was dedicated to being informed, she just couldn’t bear the silence.
No honking cars, no nosy tourists, no shouting street vendors.
It was quiet in an uncomfortable way, in an unnatural way. In a way that left Ginny too much alone with her own thoughts. 
As she punched the dough down as hard as she could, her telly warbled out an odd static followed by the evening news anchor chatting animatedly with a couple who supposedly recovered from the sickness.
“And you think having each other,” the journalist asked in disbelief, “helped speed up your recovery?” 
“We realise it sounds a bit crazy, we aren’t even sure if there is science to support it–” a male voice responded. He sounded rational enough even though what he was saying went against every directive of social distancing. “But I’m an alpha, and my wife is an omega. When we both came down with it, we decided to stay home and wait it out together. Within a week or so we felt completely back to normal...”
Ginny snorted. The hospitals reported the illness lasting between twelve to fifteen days, not seven. And what were their credentials besides claiming to have been infected? The news station could interview anyone off the street. They’d probably interview her if she claimed she danced naked, covered in chicken’s blood beneath the full moon and it spared her. If anything, the segment was irresponsible. Now people were going to go out looking for a sex partner for the week.
Sighing at the downturn in journalistic integrity, she tuned out the rest of the interview, content to bask in the early May breeze wafting through the open windows.
Until she heard the squeak of brakes slow to a stop out front. 
And muffled voices. 
Followed by a car door slamming shut. 
She’d just begun to wonder which bluenose neighbour had arrived to hole up in a holiday house when footsteps scuffed up the stone walk, her stone walk, and a key slid into the lock of her front door.
The knob turned, the door clicked open, and Ginny stood rooted to the spot, covered in flour as her landlord (slash older brother’s best mate) appeared framed on the stoop. 
At first, Harry didn’t notice her. He stepped inside, careful to scrub his shoes on the mat before closing the door behind him and dropping his duffle unceremoniously in the foyer. He looked the same as he had nearly a year ago. He scratched a hand through the disaster hair piled atop his head then patted it all down again. His glasses were the same, and he still had the same little divot permanently etching his brow into a scowl. Beneath his anorak she could tell his lean frame still gave way to lanky limbs that shifted into slender fingers. 
Then the telly switched programs, the News giving way to some crime documentary, or something. Ginny wasn’t actually paying attention. At the change in music, Harry froze with his back halfway to her and his shoulders went tight. 
Then he turned on the spot, and he finally registered Ginny’s presence tucked away in the kitchen at the back of the house.
Their gazes held for several beats too long, both of them wide-eyed and startled by the existence of the other in such close proximity. 
Ginny’s heart thundered inside her chest, in a way that was achingly familiar and entirely unwelcome. 
“What are you– I didn’t think–” Harry stammered quickly. “Ron said he was meeting you back home?”
“He was,” Ginny answered, just as flustered. “I’d planned on it but– I couldn’t– I mean, I…changed my mind.”
Harry dug his fingers into his eyes behind his glasses and swore softly. He looked a bit peaky.  
“Christ, I’m an idiot,” He croaked. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve called.”
“No, it’s fine,” she reassured, not quite sure why she was pardoning his intrusion. “It’s still your house.”
They stared at each other in the silence for several beats too long, both of them seemingly at a loss for what to do next. 
“Er–” Harry finally stammered, a grin taking over his face. “Hi, by the way.”
Ginny laughed. “Yeah... long time, no see.”
They went in for a hug at the same time, but it was too light and too quick to feel natural. As he pulled away, Harry averted his gaze and let his eyes wander around the hall and the front two rooms. 
“Is Luna…” he trailed off, as if those two words were question enough. 
Ginny realised she was still covered in baking powder and half finished dough. She grabbed a tea towel from the hook and wiped her hands just for something to look at besides him. “She and her Dad were visiting family in Hamburg when the stay at home orders hit. She’s been stuck there for over a month. They can’t get a flight home.”
Harry nodded and let out a deep exhale of sympathy. “Fuck, yeah, that’d be awful.” He paused, shooting her a furtive glance. “And you? How–how are you?”
“Yeah, fine,” One half of her mouth tipped into a smile. “You?”
Shaking his head as if in thought, his hands fidgeted slightly in front of him. “Well, London is a disaster. They aren’t letting anyone leave their homes, or letting anyone into town. They’re letting people leave, but it took me ten days just to get approval to hop a train. I figured it couldn’t be so bad up here, you know? That’s why I…”
He trailed off again and Ginny wondered if he’d become incapable of finishing a coherent sentence in the time since she’d seen him last. 
“Makes sense,” she nodded generously. 
Harry remained exactly where he was, awkwardly perched on the welcome mat. 
“You can come in,” Ginny asserted and he flinched a bit like he hadn’t expected to actually be allowed to stay. 
“Right,” he cleared his throat and stepped forward like a man walking the plank. 
Busying herself with the kettle, she tried not to be too aware of his progress through the sitting room. 
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him wave to the bookshelves on either side of the fireplace. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
Ginny grinned. The house held tell-tale signs of being solely occupied by her for the last month and a half. Stray jumpers, and rumpled throw pillows, and forgotten cups of tea sat scattered all around. The dishes in the sink were piled several days too high and the bananas on her countertop were just a shade too brown. 
“It’s a disaster,” she corrected, pulling her last two bags of tea out of the cupboard. 
Harry flashed her a smile, but it was gone just as quickly as it came. “I mean the furniture and things. The colours.”
“The colours?” she repeated incredulously. 
“Yeah,” he hummed, finally inching his way fully into the kitchen. He swallowed as his eyes settled on her once more. “It looks nice. Cosy.”
Snorting, she pulled her nearly empty carton of milk out of the refrigerator. “A sight better than when you and Ron lived here, you mean?”
That fleeting smirk again, there and then gone. “Do you know our sofa broke in two when we tried to move it out?”
“That does not surprise me in the slightest.”
Ginny poured and they both chuckled. She passed him one of the mugs and the milk, remembering how he took it. She reckoned it was one of those things she’d never forget. Like the opening to her favourite Spice Girls’ song, or her childhood phone number, or the rhymes to bonfire night. Two plus two equals four and Harry took his tea with milk, no sugar.
He tipped a splash into his cup, seemed to hesitate for a second, and then burst, “I can get a room. There’s got to be a hotel open in Old Town–”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ginny cut across him, spooning a heap of sugar into her own tea. Again, she wasn’t quite sure why she was contradicting him, but she refused to chase the thought down, because then she’d have to acknowledge that somewhere deep down she wanted him to stay. 
“Ginny,” he croaked. “I can’t intrude like this. I’ll figure something out. I’ll go stay at Sirius’ place in the country, or–”
“Harry,” she interrupted him again. “It’s your house.”
He seemed determined to put himself out. “But I can’t just show up out of the blue and–”
“Luna took your old room–” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken.
“I mean, you pay rent!” Now he was just talking to himself. “I had no right–”
“And she’s obviously not using it–” Ginny reasoned, though the ramifications of what she was suggesting crept up on her in a gradual recognition of awareness. 
“I bet the Chisholm Hunter has rooms–”
“Harry!” she cut across him in humoured agitation. “It’s fine. Stay tonight, or the next few days, or a week, until you figure it out. It’s fine.”
He blinked, the furrow between his brows deepening in thought. “You’re sure it’s okay?”
“Yes,” she lied, like a liar. “It’s not a big deal.”
It was kind of a big deal, but she could handle it. 
“You said they aren’t letting people into London, right?” Ginny continued. “What are you going to do? Rent a room until they let you go back home? That could be months!”
He opened his mouth as if to argue, then shut it again and exhaled sharply through his nose. 
“Yeah, alright,” He conceded. “But only until I can get ahold of Sirius. Then, I swear, I’ll get out of your hair.”
The statement stung, just a little. As if getting out of her sight was vastly preferable than remaining in it. 
“Where is he?” Ginny asked instead, lifting her mug to her mouth as if completely unaffected. 
Harry pulled out his mobile and punched in his passcode. “Australia. Apparently their cherry trees don’t bloom until September.”
A scoff bubbled up in the back of her throat. “Lucky Australia.”
He muttered something that sounded like agreement and pressed the phone to his ear. As he meandered back into the sitting room, Ginny turned her cupboards in search of biscuits. Surely, she still had a package left somewhere. 
Harry returned within moments. “Didn’t answer.”
“Well,” she shrugged, “Isn’t it like three in the morning?”
Harry gave her a flat look. “It’s Sirius.”
She laughed. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.”
Something in his expression sparked at her reaction and it made the breath in her lungs go shallow. 
Just like his smiles, the flare of something was there and then gone in an instant. She tried not to feel the familiarity of it, really she did, but something hollowed out spread through her middle at the reminder of her nearly debilitating infatuation, and then its eventual collapse. 
Ginny cleared her throat, coming back to her senses. “So, you said it took you forever to get a train ticket. Have they decreased the routes?”
“Oh, erm–” Harry took a sip of tea that was clearly too hot for his mouth and he winced. “Yeah, and they’re checking into everyone who books.”
Understanding washed over her. “Right, so they make sure people aren’t…”
Great, now she was incapable of finishing her sentences. 
He looked to her uncomfortably. “I hadn’t actually ever seen my birth certificate, I just always figured I was a Beta. Had to have a Doctor check me over once to make sure I wasn’t — you know — that I hadn’t gone unidentified.” 
“Right, good. Nice.”
Why exactly was it nice? She should really stop talking. 
“Is that why you…” He gestured vaguely south with one hand. “Couldn’t…go home?”
“Oh, er-” Ginny resisted the urge to cringe. “No.”
In reality, she’d had plenty of time to book a train to Devon before they started restricting the passengers who were designated one way or the other, but she hadn’t had the funds.
Harry’s gaze sharpened in curiosity. 
“Do you want to put your stuff upstairs?” she asked brightly. “You must be knackered after travelling all day.”
~~~
Ginny retreated to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her and leaning back against the sink. Shortly after Harry had settled into Luna’s room, his old room, she’d heard his mobile ring. His muffled voice through the mostly closed door had been maddening, and nearly too tempting to eavesdrop on, so she’d escaped. 
She was half-torn. One part of her wished Sirius was offering up his country house to his godson immediately, and the other part hoped there was some flood, or fire, or other natural disaster that made it inhabitable. 
Because the prospect of spending time with someone, but especially him; to not be alone hour after hour and day after day, was almost too exquisite to contemplate. 
Christ, she was hopeless. 
With nothing better to do than simmer in her own thoughts, Ginny turned the taps to the bath and adjusted the temperature until the shower spray was borderline scorching. She spent an excessive amount of time washing her hair and scrubbing her skin. She didn’t bother trying to figure out if she was doing it consciously or subconsciously, but she did know she was avoiding the end of her shower. Because as soon as she left the bath, she’d find out if he was staying or going. 
Both scenarios felt too formidable to contemplate. 
Eventually, though, the water ran cold, and Ginny couldn’t hide any longer. 
After brushing her teeth, applying night cream, and wrapping herself up in her dressing gown, Ginny yanked open the bathroom door to find Harry standing directly in the doorway, with his fist raised as if to knock. 
“Oh, sorry–” He muttered, his gaze flitting down her body and back up again. His face flushed just enough to notice. “That was Sirius,” he continued. “I can stay at his place, so I’ll be out of here as soon as I can book a train.” 
Ginny pulled in a breath and did her best to keep it even. “Right. Good.”
She felt anything but good. 
Squeezing past him and into the hallway, she kept her expression bright and open until she was safe inside her bedroom. 
In her haste, she missed the way his eyes fluttered shut as she passed. 
~~~
That night was unseasonably hot. The forecast had called for it to be a mild week, balmy and temperate, so Ginny wasn’t sure why the air wafting in through her open window felt so stifling. As she tossed and turned, a light sheen of sweat clung to her skin, and she contemplated the merits of another shower. This time a cold one. 
She settled for a glass of water instead. 
Padding down the hall toward the stairs, Ginny skirted past Luna’s room as quickly and quietly as she could. However, in the end, stealth didn’t matter.  
Harry was already in the kitchen, propped up against the sink and looking pale. 
“You okay?” Ginny muttered, taking a tentative step forward. 
Clenching his eyes shut, Harry kept his head down and nodded. “I don’t know what’s happened to my stomach. Food poisoning or something–”
“I may have some Pepti upstairs?”
Harry nodded again. 
She took a step closer, reaching for a glass from the shelf when the scent hit her. It smelled like fresh spring mornings, and the citrus of Earl Grey tea, and the warmth of never being alone. It smelled like home. 
Every instinct she had screamed at her to take in more of it, to surround herself in it. Harry’s eyes met hers through the dim light and she saw him pull in a deep inhale through flared nostrils. 
In an instant, her mind was restless and her body uncomfortably warm. Parts of her she didn’t know could ache, gnawed and cramped in time with her too loud pulse.
She dropped the glass she’d been holding at the same time Harry lept backwards. 
In some corner of her mind, she knew what was happening. All of the doctors listed the same symptoms over and over; heightened senses, irregular body temperature, lower-abdominal cramps, increased libido. However, she was firmly ignoring the signs… especially the last one. It was much easier to dismiss her body’s immediate urges as coincidence. Otherwise, she would also have to admit what triggered it. 
For fuck’s sake, Harry triggered it. 
But that would mean he–
Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck.
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