#i absolutely think he does come like the 50s husband and complain about all of them

[barnbridges]

these two are my girlfriends.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 07 part two

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Lantern Lighting

Now we have the famous lantern scene, where everybody gets to express their character and have dates, ranging from disastrous to delightful, with the objects of their affection. 

Wei Wuxian continues to be ridiculously good at drawing. 

We’ve all seen Lan Wangji’s lovely first smile in the show a million times, so...let’s look at it again!

This scene is important not just because of the smile, but because there’s a distinct shift in the way they talk about their growing relationship. In the pond, it was “come visit me” and “never!” “I want to be your friend” “No need.” Basically Lan Wangji firmly saying no to Wei Wuxian’s offers of friendship.

This time, Wei Wuxian says “let’s do this together” and Lan Wangji says “I’m used to being alone,” which is not actually a No, just an explanation. And WWX says, you can change that. And then Lan Wangji DOES change it, sharing the lantern and the promise with Wei Wuxian.

Whoever painted this flower is even better than Wei Wuxian at plein air painting. 

(more after the cut!)

Everybody’s wishes

Nie Huasang makes a practical wish. Wen Qing prays for her brother and Jiang Cheng notices how she’s like Yanli. Jiang Cheng isn’t very intense about Wen Qing, which could be a sign of his shyness but could also be a sign of his gayness or aceness. After all, later in life he’s an apparently wealthy clan leader who is hot as fuck, and needs an heir, since his nephew is a Jin. But he’s still not married, 16 years after breaking up with and uh, helping to kill and cremate, the girl he liked in summer school.

The Promise We Made Together

Wei Wuxian makes an ultra-idealistic wish/promise while Lan Wangji watches and falls the rest of the way in love with him, and silently makes the same pledge inside his head. Later they will each refer to this as a promise they made together, which is a really super high level of face-reading by Wei Wuxian, to understand that he really is speaking for both of them here.  While making this promise, Lan Wangji brings out his Yin Iron Magic Bag and waves it around in front of everyone, but nobody notices. 

Let’s take a moment to consider *why* this moment is so powerful for Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji is a boy whose emotions are always on the boil. He’s 100% upset all the time, at this age, and he keeps it clamped down all the time. His cultivation level is probably as high as it is partly because of all the work he does in emotion regulation. (note: if you haven’t read all the meta at @howpeacefulislwj​ , go read it; it’s awesome and hilarious)

Wei Wuxian doesn’t GAF about emotion regulation; he just expresses what he feels, all the damn time. 

He is openly bored, lusty, playful, hungry, whiny. He straight up tells Lan Wangji “you’re boring and you have a stick up your ass” as part of saying he wants to be friends; no deference and also no falseness.  

And he can see right through Lan Wangji’s reserve, barging into his loneliness and isolation without any regard for all of his wards. Wards are made to be broken.

(Unrelated note: Young Lan Wangji's rare moments of contentment seem to come from looking at something beautiful--the moon, falling petals, these lanterns, his mirror.)

But Wei Wuxian is also good. Lan Wangji desperately wants to be good. And here’s Wei Wuxian embodying this awful, amazing, tempting alternative path, in which all the interesting things in life get explored thoroughly, all the sweetness and beauty gets consumed unreservedly, all the pain and ugliness gets confronted and endured without hesitation. 

In this moment, Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji “you can change,” and then offers up this prayer/promise that is just pure chivarly, speaking straight to Lan Wangji’s heart. Very simply, I want to spend my life doing right. Not 3500 rules; just one.

This infuriating boy, who breaks rules and who flirts indiscriminately and who pushes and pushes and pushes, reveals himself in this moment to be a hero at the beginning of his journey, and Lan Wangji sees it, and his heart goes right over the cliff.

The Girls’ Room

The girl cultivators all rush over to Yanli to get in her business about her betrothal, inspiring Jin Zixuan to act like a jerk to her and get even further onto Wei Wuxian’s bad side. 

Talk Shit, Get Hit

Yanli’s wish was that Wei Wuxian would grow up and be good. He promptly launches his own personal Sunshot campaign, punching her fiancee so hard that the sun falls out of the sky and the previously well-lit scene transitions to full night.

So, in English, “don’t mention it again” is really mild, akin to “I don’t want to talk about it.” Wei Wuxian’s reaction makes it seem like Jin Zixuan said something really shitty, like “don’t you dare mention that woman to me!” So I’m assuming something is being lost in translation. 

Lan Wangji tries to calm him down. He grabs Wei Wuxian’s sexy arm muscle and basically holds it until the Jiangs exit the scene. 

Nie Huaisang has placed himself between the opposing factions, which is unusually direct of him. In the future he’ll stick to being an unindicted co-conspirator when Wei Wuxian starts trouble. 

Ants in my Pants

Lan Wangji thinks kneeling can make Wei Wuxian cry, which is adorable of him. 

He really relishes this opportunity to be a pedantic tool to his new boyfriend that annoying boy he hardly ever touches, and it really doesn’t work out for him, poor lamb.

Jiang Fengmian stops by to show exactly how deep his affection for Wei Wuxian runs, and to give him whiplash from constantly changing parental expectations. In a couple of hours he’ll be laughing over WWX & JC’s hijinks.

Wei Wuxian takes this opportunity to fantasize about bad things happening to the other boy in the fight, which is in no way foreshadowing of anything.

Douche Dads Conference

We now convene this meeting of the douchebag council. Jiang Cheng is also invited even though he’s a prick, not a douche. <--important distinction

This is our first time meeting Clan Leader Jin Guangshan. He's actually the most sensible and best parent in this scene, but his smug self-satisfaction hints at his true nature. This actor, Shen Xiaohai, has been active in cdramas for a long while now. I wonder what he looked like 15 years ago?

...Holy mother of god.

Jiang Fengmian is the worst dad and the worst husband here. His clan believes in letting children do what they want - uhh YOUR child wants to marry Jin Zixuan. “I wrote a letter to her mother, who arranged this marriage.” Uhhh she arranged for her sickly, low-cultivation-level, sweet and vulnerable child to marry the heir of a rich and powerful clan, with a powerful mother-in-law who’s looking forward to loving and protecting her. Basically she’s guaranteed her daughter’s safety and comfort, and even potential happiness, since her husband may learn to appreciate her (and in fact, does, thanks to soup and repeated beatings from WWX).

Mom worked hard and probably spent a fair amount of social capital to achieve this. And you’re going to toss that aside because the boy thinks he’s too good for her? What the everloving fuck, how are you a clan leader in the first place? 

You can see that Jiang Cheng understands all of this and what a terrible choice his father is making here. 

So do the other adults in the room.

Jin Guangshen: our wives are going to kill us

Lan Qiren: I'm looking at a couple of dead men

Jiang Fengmian pointedly won’t listen to Jiang Cheng or let him speak, showing that all his talk about being free is actually bullshit, that only applies to other people’s children.

Jiang Chang vaults off of the deck to tell Wei Wuxian about it. Hottt

Sorry Sis

Wei Wuxian goes to Jiang Yanli to sorta-apologize and sorta ask to be let off the hook for fucking up her engagement, which he absolutely did. He knows it, which is presumably why he bows to her in paperman form while hiding outside.

At no time has Jiang Yanli indicated to anyone that she doesn’t want to marry Jin Zixuan, as far as I can see, or said she wanted to be defended from insults with punching. Look how good SHE is at defending a person from insults, for comparison.

Yin Iron Blah Blah Blah

The senior Lans meet with Jiang Fengmian  to talk about the Yawn Yin Iron. Yawn. 

Jiang Fengmian addresses Lan Xichen as Lan Gongzi, which is adorable, since he is a big boy to everyone else. His family calls him Xichen and other people call him Zewu-Jun.

Farewell and Fuck You

The three Jiang kids come to say goodbye.

Lan Quiren says goodbye with a heap of criticism for Wei Wuxian and the horse he rode in on, and Jiang Fengmian basically says, yep, that’s what he’s like, all right.  

Good thing Wei Ying gets so much verbal abuse at home he doesn’t take it very hard when he finds it in the field. 

Wangji doesn’t say goodbye properly, which will be a recurring theme for the two of them.

I don’t know if this is because he has a problem with goodbyes, or is just being a jerk, or because he’s so bad at lying he doesn’t dare talk to Wei Wuxian lest he reveal his travel plans. 

Indulgent Dad Continues to be the Worst

Jiang Cheng complains at Wei Wuxian for wanting to say goodbye to Lan Wangji, and WWX says he likes him because he is equal to WWX in fighting, whereas JC sucks. JC hits him tries to hit him--gosh, he DOES suck, comparatively. 

Yanli, who has been keeping these boys in line all summer, sighs deeply at her Dad’s tolerance for their hijinks. OP has five brothers and this sibling-hijinks behavior is 100% accurate, except for the part where it is happening at someone else’s house in front of the hosts. 

WWX pretending to be Lan Qiren where Lan Wangji can see him doing it, in front of Lan Qiren’s colleague and supposed friend, and just earning a laugh from the patriarch? Good lord.  Dad Jiang tolerating this is shocking, particularly in the in-show culture where corporal punishment is as common as tea. 

We’ve tried Nothing, and we’re all out of ideas!

Uggghh why are you like this?

Here in the real world, OP uses “positive discipline” with her child, and encourages other parents to consider it, particularly if your child is neuroatypical or asynchronous.  That said, JF should be punishing the crap out of both boys for this behavior every time it happens, or should quit being a clan leader.  He’s relying on Jiang Yanli to keep them in line while he gets to just be amused by them. And he’s letting Lan Qiren discipline Wei Wuxian instead of doing it himself. He suuuuuuucks. 

Lan Wangji watches all of this. Lan Xichen reminds Lan Wangji that without Wei Wuxian, he’s completely fucking miserable. Lan Wangji still doesn’t plan to bring him along on his trip, though.

Time to return to our lives of crushing loneliness

Rabbits

At this same moment when Lan Wangji is staring down the barrel of future loneliness, Wei Wuxian is already deciding to leave the (forbidden) rabbits in Cloud Recesses “In case Lan Zhan gets lonely.”  This small decision by Wei Wuxian - breaking the rules of Cloud Recesses for the millionth time - is kinder than he knows. Because what is the job of these rabbits? Let’s have a desaturated flashback. 

Lan Zhan spent 3 years in the ice cave. The rabbits kept Lan Yi company in the ice cave. So...did the rabbits sneak in to keep Lan Wangji company in the ice cave as well? I’m going to say yes. By ep 43 they are following him to the gate of Cloud Recesses so they are very attached to him.  Well done, Wei Ying.

Where my bitches at? Seriously, our warren needs bitches

(Is Watership Down still a thing people read? If not, just go ahead and assume all of OP’s rabbit jokes are about Watership Down because OP ain’t going to stop making them)

While Wei Wuxian annoys the bunny he has a flashback to the scene that happened 4 minutes earlier. The Untamed editors assume the viewership has the attention span of a goldfish, and I personally appreciate that they understand me so well.

Wei Wuxian figures out that Lan Wangji is going on the road alone, and tells the bunny immediately. The bunny is very concerned.

Writing Prompt: What do next-generation cultivators Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi wish for at lantern-lighting time?

[juhakn]

Spring Had Just Ended

Words count: 7.5k

Theme: Slowburn, angst, fluff, established friendship

Pairing: Ten Lee and reader

summary: this summer is not what you expected when your childhood friend is back in town for a month break from college. the same person, the same feelings

You lost your cat.

Well, rather, she was the one who got lost but for some invalid reasons, your family blames you for the incident. May I remind you, an incident you clearly do not have anything to do with.

So here you are, with your friend Ten; whom you consider is very useless in your journey of finding the cat. I am a cat person, he states. You cock my eyebrow at him, completely disagreeing with his statement. He hops on the rocks, the wet rock that lives in the shallow river. It used to be your hiding spot-your cat, Thian loved to follow you here.

But college got you two caved in.

The both of you forgot to keep each other updated as he studies in Thailand, his home city while you're stuck here, in a town you're getting tired with. He would always nag every chance he gets about how you're wasting my intelligence over a small town that doesn't offer great majors.

"It holds a special place in my heart," is what you'd say.

Right now, you feel like dropping.

Holding your phone, you continue to follow wherever he goes-except Thailand. Maybe you shouldn't have brought him with you, maybe both of you shouldn't have decided to come back here in summer. He stops, "hey remember this?" he grins, his hand grasping a rock, carved with his initial and yours. Your lips couldn't help but lift themselves into a gentle smile, "yes I do, idiot."

"I remember you telling me a cat person should be able to attract cats within 50 miles away- which is complete bullshit by the way-and I somehow wore a fucking cat ears just to prove you I am one, in Halloween." He looks at you with an idiotic smile on his face. The same old smile that always makes your heart do laps.

"for the record, we were 13 and yes, a cat person should be able to attract cats within 50 miles away. You were just in denial like you are right now," you scoff.

You're the one who's in denial.

[23:17]

The quest in searching for your family (and yours) beloved Thian was a fail.

But somehow, Ten did end up in your house, eating dinner with your mother who keeps complaining about how he doesn't remember her anymore (because it's his first time visiting her in three years). You're fiddling with the spaghetti you're trying to find interesting.

Ten was a friend you met during high school, he moved from Thailand to your small town- something you're intrigued by. Why would someone ever fly all the way from a beautiful country that has little bits to everything to a small, secluded, town that absolutely doesn't have everything?

My parents wanted somewhere closed off, he would say, with a shrug followed by.

He wasn't your neighbour, or at least in your point of view (you think neighbours are the ones who lives beside, not in front of two houses by) he was a classmate.

You couldn't speak Thai, but Ten still would talk in his native language with you. Slowly, you would pick up some words but that was after he rushed to college. You never had a chance to show off your skill. Not that he's here...you feel off.

Ten was just like anyone else, he showed no interest in learning but is forced to. He once confessed about dropping school so he could become a performer.

In which he left you, for a dance major.

For his dream.

You once watched him dance. It was the month before he left for Thailand, chasing his dream. He let his warm hand slid into yours, gently grasping your fingers and stroking your hand with his thumb.

"I wanna show you something." And he did, he tugged you to your secret little space by the stream.

You watched him take off his shoes, switching them with his ballet ones. He had a big grin plastered on his face, "okay, I'm not that good so...please tell me how I did." As his toes pointed to the ground, he took a deep breath and twirl with passion.

He was a ballerino and you were falling.

[10:44]

"Do you think she'll come back?"

It was a question you loved to ask yourself. It was winter and you were lost. You still are, but you think you're getting back on track now that he's here.

Both of you decided to catch up with life, drove to the city and hang out in a newly opened cafe. There's no talking, but it's not awkward. Rather, it's comforting. You stop picking with your vanilla cake.

You look at your friend's eyes, oh-you could stare into those beautiful brown eyes of his for god who knows-you sigh, "I don't know Ten, I don't know." And it isn't a question, it's a dilemma.

Should you tell him how you feel or should you not?

You clench your teeth, the bitter taste on your tongue stayed. You just want to dance with him, you want to tell him, take your hand and wish he'd take it like his life depends on it. But that's okay, you think. But that's fine, you think. But that's nice, you think

But that hurts, you smile.

"Does Mrs Millers still sell her cherry ade? Man, I miss those days when we got them for free. I never understood why she didn't want to market it. She could be a millionaire for all we know." Ten huffs, his palm resting on his chin. He had always had pretty features, a button nose, big doe eyes, beautiful tanned skin and long eyelashes.

You couldn't bring yourself to think about his lips, you're scared you might jump onto his pink ones.

He looks at you and you reply with a shriek, "she doesn't sell them but she does still give us them," you pause, "free of charge."

Ten hums, eyes darting away from yours.

He looks at the pedestrians crossing the street, the woman walking her raging chihuahua and a man beside her with his golden retriever. The old grumpy man wearing a checkered patterned flat cap, thrusting his hands into his old, thorned brown leather jacket. Those girls chatting while eating ice cream in the hot summer wearing a matching strawberry dress.

You chuckle softly, the old man must love his grandchildren to death. You wonder if he even does have one.

In your small town, they don't have a cute modern cafe but an old vintage one. It's a cute, small building that has gone old, probably more than two decades. Its owner is an old lady named Michelle Suh whose husband is far below 6 feet in the ground. She's a sweet lady who'd give the two of you free sandwiches after school ended.

She has gotten old, the cafe would probably be closed by a few months.

Ten's eyes wander off to the old couple swinging their hands sweetly as they cross the street, adoring each other lovely.

"I wish that could be us..."

The cream tastes awful.

[11:15]

"Have you two lads date already?" Is the first greeting Mrs Millers asked. She doesn't hesitate to express her feelings (which you do admire), it just slips off her lips.

You choke on the carbonated cherry flavoured drink, your cheeks heating up with the same colour as the deep red cherries. Ten laughs freely, brushing off the old woman with his hands jokingly, stating, "I don't think we don't suit each other."

You look down at your shoes, they're sandals with a huge sunflower on each to add more aesthetical pleasing. Or maybe you're looking at the shattered pieces of your heart.

The old woman with a cherry apron sighs, "I was wishing you two could get married after my son." She smiles bitterly, disappointed that her favourite ship is sinking.

"Oh? Jungwoo's getting married?" Her son perks your interest, you haven't seen him for years after he went to boarding school. He's a couple of years younger but he's handsome.

You noticed how Ten's face dropped after you changed the subject to Kim Jungwoo; the high school student you had a crush on. It was a phase, you say. Mrs Millers is Jungwoo's foster mom, after his parents couldn't afford to raise him so Mrs Millers took him into her family's warm embrace.

Kim Jungwoo still keeps in contact with his biological parents. You knew because he accidentally overshares about his family issues when you found him crying by the river after school. You knew because the two of you would hang out by the river before Ten came. You knew because Jungwoo was your friend.

"Jungwoo's engagement was off last minute. He's here but he's a guy with a broken heart. The love of his life left him and he's a human." You pity both Mrs Millers who's forcing her lips to smile and Jungwoo...who's overwhelmed with sadness.

"Can I talk to him, Mrs Millers?" You raise your hand, asking for her consent. She nods weakly, "you can, but I'm not sure if he'd answer." And you understand, because he hates it when someone sees him at his weakest.

Once again, you knew because he told you when he cried on your shoulder when his dog died. Tuu, a white Samoyed, was his emotional support (besides you).

You sigh, thinking of all possibilities Jungwoo might make them happen. "It's okay if he doesn't, I just miss him...I want him to know that I'm here, always."

Ten flinches, but no one noticed.

Mrs Millers walk to her fridge and take the cold ham sandwich before giving it to you. She softly whispers, "can you please bring this to him, (Y/n)? He rarely goes out these days."

You nod.

You left Ten and Mrs Millers talking to each other, completely in their world. You take a deep breath, "I hope he's okay..." And walk upstairs, carefully, without making too many noises.

You knock on Jungwoo's door, softly asking his permission for you to enter. There's no response. Twice, nothing. Thrice, still quiet. You knock aga-

Jungwoo opens his door. He has eyebags under his red, dull eyes. His skin looks lifeless, he looks lifeless. Like a zombie who has nothing to do with life. No passion, no motivation...no Kim Jungwoo.

His lips quiver seeing you and you mind yourself to not squish the cold sandwich when hugging him as you slowly take him into your arms. He sobs into your chest and you coo, "there, there, my pretty boy...I'm here, jungwoo. I'm home." You pat his back with a steady rhythm.

You gentle sway your bodies into his room and closes the door by kicking it with your toe. You caress his soft brown locks, still cooing his sweet words.

For a solid 10 minutes, his sobs have stopped. You look down at him, your thumb lifts his chin for him to connect your eyes. He looks miserable, heartbroken.

You stroke his cheek gently with your thumb, "whoever did this to you, they don't know you deserve more. You deserve better, my love." You give him a sweet longing kiss on his forehead. One that screams "I miss you!".

"Now don't cry anymore, you look like a lost sad puppy." You playfully squish his cheeks with your hands, drawing circles on his soft cheeks. His lips inch for a smile as he looks at you.

Plopping down onto his bed, he follows by resting his head on your lap as you brush his hair. It used to be a hobby of yours when you two were still in high school. You think the habit might come back.

"They said they love me," Jungwoo starts. "And I believed them..." His voice shakes, his heart couldn't bear the past. "They left me, saying we were just never meant to be...it hurts knowing that I still love them. For 4 fucking years, (Y/n)," he halts.

"For 4 fucking years, we were in love and they ended it. I left after that. I left Paris and got lost. But I'm here." He cries.

His sobs get louder when hides himself in his palms. You sigh deeply, your shaking hands' pats his head. "I know that feeling," you whisper.

You do? Jungwoo asks. For 6 years of friendship, you never talk about your love life to him. He thought you were just aroromantic, so he never really cares.

"Yeah, I do." You answered his question.

"That feeling when you're just not meant to be and now you're regretting taking their hands into yours, regretting being there for them when they're sad, regretting loving them because-"

"-they left." Jungwoo continues bitterly. You nod out a yeah, you don't mind if he interrupts, it's Jungwoo and you're willing to drop the whole world for him. You stop playing with his hair and take a moment before continuing, "or maybe you don't regret loving them. You think they're the right person, but as soon as you do...they just left."

"You wanna think it's a mistake, a mistake that they leave. But it's just regret." You playfully Boop his cute nose and he scrunch it. It's cute, you think.

"I guess we're the mistresses who fell in love with married guys." Jungwoo pouts, and you nearly squish him to death. He's adorable and you're this close to snuggle him to death.

"Except that they're not." You emphasis. "And I was going to." He says as he rolls his eyes.

You interlock your hands with him, rubbing them against your cheek. "We make mistakes but I don't know if it was ever a mistake," Jungwoo confesses rather timidly. And you know he's lost, just like you.

Two friends lost in love.

Jungwoo laughs with a thin line of sadness lined in between his sweet voice. "I think they were the ones who made a mistake for leaving us, don't you think so?" He looks up at you, eyes wide open as he asks curiously.

You hum, "in your case, yes. How could a little pretty boy who deserves the whole world got left?" You say as you bring your hands to cradle his cheeks and squish them together. You earn a lively laugh from him and honestly, that's all you ever wanted. For a moment, the two of you stare at the sunset. Into different worlds, the two of you are still able to communicate with each other. He's on his own and vice versa. It's a quiet time where you both enjoy the silence in each other's warmth. The cold sandwich has already gotten into Jungwoo's stomach and he quote, "cold ham sandwiches are superior."

Jungwoo realises about what you said so he asked, "how about yours?"

"It was my choice."

[14:54]

Ten is intimidated by Jungwoo's height but he could never bring that up or you'll tease him till death. By the time you wave at the mother and her precious son, he drags you to his bike. Ten never liked cars, he fancies bikes more than them, you recall.

"What did you guys talk about?" He asks carefully with a straight face while helping you with the helmet. You shrug, "We just talk and cuddle. That's it."

Ten halts, but quickly hops onto his bike. You watch him throwing a small tantrum-by pressing the bike's gear, creating a very loud noise. As he drives you to your house, he whines quietly.

"Cuddles? Seriously? What is he? A toddler who needs cuddles to cheer up?"

As he drops you off, he runs off-without saying goodbyes. You throw your head back, stressed over your bottled up feelings for your hot friend. Ten is hot, you admit.

For anything, he's so hot you remember thinking about him in a suit during prom in the exam that you forgot to answer the exam paper. It was embarrassing and nice. He's unbearably hot that your coffee was overflowing all because you're too busy staring at his new haircut. He's too hot that you nearly missed a traffic light while driving because you were thinking about how good he could be with you.

And Ten still doesn't know about your feelings.

And you're getting pretty tired with all those butterflies that appear every time he texts you good mornings and goodnights. You're tired of those flips your stomach does whenever he smiles at you. You're tired of your heart running miles every damn time he laughs at your corny jokes.

You throw yourself onto your soft bed, head in the pillow, socks still on your feet, your sling bag somewhere on the carpeted floor and your necklace are still on.

Tomorrow's Monday.

And you have applied to work at the small cat book cafe with Sicheng. Sicheng is a friend of Jungwoo's you met during the middle school reunion. Sicheng never liked reading but he said that's the only job the town ever has. And you agree with the Chinese man.

Ten haven't met Sicheng yet, you think.

Why does every time you try to think about anything that doesn't remind you of his gorgeous self, you always find a way back to thinking about him? It feels like he connects your universe (which he does), and you will never get lost.

But you feel as if you're disappearing in the forest of love. It's hazy, you feel dizzy. The fuzziness inside you never left and biology can't even explain the feeling scientifically. You're mad, mad in love with Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul.

You shout into the poor pillow, letting your feelings go around messing your room instead of your brain. You are tired and you have work tomorrow.

So you sleep.

Wearing earphones, sad playlist shuffles to help you lull to a deep peaceful slumber without Ten.

[19:13]

"(Y/n), (Y/n)!"

Sicheng snaps you from your daydream. You blink, twice. You still can't get him out of your head. He's just there, running through your mind, living rent-free. He should at least pay one dollar for every time he crossed your mind and you'd still get only one dollar because he never leaves.

Sicheng doesn't know who Ten is, at least visually/physically, but he knows you like the man. Sicheng could tell from the way your eyes are reflecting love or whatever that shit is. He thinks love isn't real and you do agree...halfway.

"I'm sorry-what were you saying, Sicheng?" You ask with a sheepish smile, your hand awkward scratches the nape of your neck. Sicheng pinches in between his eyebrow, forehead creasing. "I'm suggesting, (Y/n). Stop thinking about Ten!" He glares, and you absentmindedly take note of Sicheng's cuteness when angry.

"I wasn't thinking about him!" Your voice is an octave high, so it's a lie. You can't lie anyways, Sicheng's sun in the Scorpio allows him to read your mind. You don't believe in astrology-it's all just a big coincidence. Sicheng however does study astrology along with astronomy. He hates physics for that, but he believes in magical stuff and rituals.

Sicheng is a spiritual man.

He rolls his eyes, "whatever. I'm saying if we can put up posters about your missing cat around the town." You bit your lips. Ten had already done that the second he found out Thian went missing. "Ten already spread the news around. If anything happens, they'd call him before me." You sigh, Ten is a smart guy.

"He's a nice guy."

That's the problem. He's a nice guy and you're pushing him away. You're the stupid one for not getting him, not confessing to him. He could be the one, he also could be a passerby.

You want him to be in your life, not just a passerby who watches your life from afar. Not just the star who appears only when you need him. You want him to be your love, always there even if you don't need him.

Maybe just maybe, he can be your Juliet-without the tragic death event(s).

Sicheng goes back to pet the fat orange cat on the counter whilst looking out for customers. He tends to keep away from rumours about him slacking off. He leans in against the marble counter, smirking, "you know, if you keep thinking about him, I'm afraid he might show up." Sicheng snarky comment make you feel less nervous.

"You attract what you fear," you warm him. You walk back to cleaning the windows, way too occupied with talking to your handsome co-worker. Sometimes you wonder what could you have done to be blessed with attractive people in your life. You're lucky to live in the same realm, era, area, with them. And the fact that you know them...personally, is, really wholesome.

"No wonder he's here." Sicheng comments and you nearly slip. A what feels like an electric shock makes your body slightly imbalanced from the slippery tiled floor.

"Oh, shit-" you brush off the stain on your shirt. You look around, there's no Ten.

Sicheng laughs as you feel your cheeks warming up. You grasp the dirty towel and throw it onto Sicheng. You don't aim for his face because he's so pretty it hurts...yet it ended up flying directly to his forehead.

You burst out bubbly laughs, holding your stomach while Sicheng picks up the dirty towel with disgust. Sicheng looks at you and looks back at the towel. "Now, would it harm someone if I throw this to someone?" His lips curl up into a vicious smile.

You notice and quickly run between the books. You know Sicheng wouldn't dare to throw it- he might ruin the vintage. And he loves them. Summer is when we read books with cats, he states.

As the two of you continue playing around and bickers about the towel, the bell door rings. A customer has entered. Your eyes dart to the door and your knees wobble. A very, attractive young man whom you assumed is probably a graduate is greeting a calico cat named Hana. "God...why do such men always surround themselves in our lives?" Sicheng bites his lips.

"I don't know, but he is damn hot." You whisper, eyes still glancing at the stranger. "Hey, you have Ten! Enough collecting!" Sicheng flicks your forehead and you swear you heard a loud smack. You heard a soft chuckle behind you. "You know Ten?"

You turn around, dizzy. The man has a sharp nose, a defined jaw and big eyes. His cheekbones are visible and that makes him more...hot. however, hot is not the right word to describe his attractiveness. Perhaps, gorgeous does. You stutter over your words, "Yes- yes I do know Ten!" You cringed at yourself.

The man's eyes gleam under the light of the cafe upon hearing your answer. "Do you want coffee?" Sicheng interrupts, finding excuses to get away from the eye-gouging scene. It's exaggerated, he knows. The mystery man simply nods and asks for a cup of iced Americano. Sicheng's breath hitch, "basic bitch."

He doesn't mean it in a bad way.

Sicheng sets his foot to the coffee maker. The mystery man looks back at you, his charming smile never fades. He slowly leans in and whispers, "please do something about Ten. We're getting a bit annoyed by his rants." Your eyes widen, taken aback by his sudden action. The man simply takes a step back and winks, "the name's Hendery. We'll have lots of meetings from now on."

"I'm...glad?"

"Here's your coffee!" Sicheng suddenly appears and Hendery pays for it. He points his index finger to your lips and puts it on his own before mumbling about what you think is, "secret."

Hendery walks out after he pets all the cats in the cafe (which takes him around 10 minutes because they're 10 cats). Sicheng nudges your elbow, "what was that all about?" You shake your head, "I don't know but I do know he's handsome."

Although, handsome is an understatement. Hendery is...heavenly charming. Yeah, you think he suits heavenly more. However, Ten is still on top of the list. Because ten is hot as hell.

[07:27]

Spending time with cats is never on the summer bucket list but you think it completed the summer itself. You can die happily now. Not to mention now that Ten is here, summer is a bit warm for you now. Warm because you're currently holding his hand tightly-as if you'd let him go any second, on your way to watch a play.

Few hours earlier, he had invited you to watch his friend's play, Hendery, together. At first, you didn't think plays are for you. Heck, that thought never once appear in your mind. But seeing Ten was so desperate for you to be there with him, you thought, why not? It could never harm anyone.

Your heart feels giddy and fuzzy. As soon as he shows the tickets to the security, he pulls your hand excitedly. Perhaps he's just giving his friend his support.

Joy overtook you as he continues holding your hand even during the play which makes your focus on him, not the play. Though the only thing you remember is the title of the play; "Charming Lady." It is not a traditional play, Ten whispers.

It's my original idea, he grins. You scrunch your nose in confusion, plays requires money, you remember. So how in the world-oh...

It's my original idea, he grins. You scrunch your nose in confusion, plays requires money, you remember. So how in the world—oh. Ten's a famous chef's son and yet, he still doesn't know how to cook rice...for some reason (he has his mother why would he cook?). He's rich as hell, for crying out loud. Everyone would sacrifice themselves just to be served by his family. Their speciality in cooking raised everyone's standard on one's tasting buds whether by the texture, presentation or the taste itself. You once tried their signature, pineapple crab curry, cried and you swore to never discriminate food ever again.

"This...is voluntary. You could say I just want to share my world of arts with people for free. The tickets are exclusively given for people with love for art. I did some research of them...and it's intriguing." Ten lay back on his seat, careful not to spill his coffee onto the floor.

Coffee and plays, a combination you never know you need. It goes well together. The bittersweet longing taste of espresso laces within the dramatic plots of acted out scenes. Truly, a masterpiece.

[00:58]

Charming lady is a rather cliche story, you must say.

Charming lady is based off a woman's dream of becoming a wife to a rich man and travelling the world. And sadly, the man she loves moves away without her as he finds more opportunities in other countries. She would cry herself to sleep every night, wishing-maybe God would help.

Poor soul, you think.

Just like you.

Hopelessly in love with a man you know you would never have chance with. And to every each day you wish for him to look at you, may if it's just seconds, may if it's just a short while. You hope those twinkling eyes of his would shine seeing you, but you could only hope.

You hate fate.

As the story progresses, hendery is the protagonist, the villian or whatever Ten said. Now, Hendery's role is the most crucial affect to the whole plot. He thicken the play by simply pursuing the woman-a whole cliche, likewise.

But you know how it feels.

To see someone who's in love, but not you. You're desperate, you're selfish for wanting him. But how could the little heart of yours endure such a burden in the name of love? Whether it'd be yours or his. As you grew up, you understood the villain more this developing a hatred passion towards the selfish hero(es).

You couldn't shed a tear but something break your heart there.

You know Ten will be leaving again.

His love for dancing wouldn't get him anywhere if he stays here.

After the two of you watched the theatre, Ten suggested a cafe that sells good sweets. The evening is quiet beautiful today with the clouds blushing on the horizon, the sun spreading its last shiny crown for today. You look at the menu, chose one portion of banana milk smooth and a red bean flavoured bun while Ten orders Chai Tea for himself.

"Hey! I've been calling your name for 3 minutes now!!" Ten's voice sorts your thoughts back to reality. You whisk your head to look at him and apologize. "I was way in my mind." You rub your arms softly, the cold night of summer is a hassle. You may never feel his warmth again after this.

He makes an annoyed expression, "here's your smoothie. Banana. And that's probably the only thing I hate bout you, hoe." You snicker, "it's just a smoothie, Ten! You're just getting on your own nerves!" You let out a big laugh, one that make your stomach flips.

"Ew, we're definitely not soulmates." Ten says with a disgust, his tongue poking out and his eyebrows furrowed. He takes your hand in his, grasping it lightly as if you're as fragile as a glass. Your lips reach for the cold blended beverage and slowly sips. Ten watches is disbelief, his eyes narrowed-he's not a fond of fruit, his mother said 6 years ago.

"You know, that play was a first. I really appreciate it when you said you could come. I know it's not that great to you...because you've always hated love and stuff...but seeing my best friend showing up to give support is nice." His ears are red as a cherry, you noticed. Your breath got heavier as your chest thumps vigorously against your ribcage, begging to burst out.

Honestly, you don't really mind if he views you as just a friend. You are far more happy to be on his 'my loved ones' list. If you're able to make him happy, that's all that matters.

You sigh deeply, "what can I say to my parasite? I have to give everything of mine or you'd die." You ruffle his hair, smiling from ear to ear. Ten grins, like a cat, and your heart did a back flip.

"Let's go home."

Ten shakes his head upon hearing your suggestion. "Come on, (Y/n). It's been two weeks and we ever did was going to a cafe, work and sleep. Aren't you getting bored?" The man wiggle his eyebrows playfully and you know where is this going. You laugh, "Ten, I have work tomorrow and I can't afford to sleep late today."

Tomorrow's Tuesday and by now, you've just realised how time flew so fast. It feels like it was just yesterday Ten moved to your neighbourhood. It feels like it was just yesterday the first time the two of you met. It wasn't even special or dramatic like anyone's first loves, but...it is special at least to you.

Little things pasts like the waves. So you want to cherish everything before the end of the world. You are afraid of not completing the role of yours before you die but your mother always warn; "never rush into life or death will move forward." You look up, the soft night breeze softly gust onto your cheeks. A little goodnight by them. The stars are laid across the black canvas of the so called night sky.

Ten looks up too, "who said that?" He closes his eyes for a second, enjoying his youth while he still can before adulthood reaches his time. He continues, "anyways, I was going to tell you to let's go rob your cafe."

This caught your attention—he always does nonetheless. Your eyes widen as saucers, breath hitched, cheeks flushed from the cold,"are you crazy?" You stressed. Ten shrugs his shoulders and meet you in the eye. "For the cats, (Y/n). Think of the cats!" He exclaims dramatically—and you like that about him. He always care for little things, he's attentive of others. Ten may deny all of your sweet statements of his but you know better.

"You're still not over by that?" You roll your eyes and if not, you want to show him your eyeballs fall out of the sockets then put it back in. Just to show him how "annoyed" you are.

On his fourth day of vacation—1 summer free of notifications of "new assignment posted"—you had told him about how Mrs. Suh loves the cats but not enough to let them into her house. She said it reminds her of her late husband. "No, how could they let the cats caged overnight? That's like...a devil's son."

You turn to Ten, "Oh Ten, they're fed. They also will go to walk every morning. It's not like they're dying!" Your feet starts walking to its own pace on the concrete path. The city is quiet, peace and calm. Ten follows. Just like he always does and now, to you, it's time you go on your own paths for the sake of yourselves.

"Fine, fine. I admit I'm exaggerating." He thrusts his cold hands into the pocket of his denim jacket. Ten has things for fashion. Occasionally, he designs for small companies for savings or charity. You flash a grin,"do you still want to do it?" And Ten nod enthusiastically, excited.

You think for a minute and, "race you to the cafe!" You grasp onto your banana smoothie cup firmly, it's only half full. He seems to be taken aback, nonetheless, he starts chasing, shouting, "hey, that's like 20 miles on foot!"

Breathless, still on the run, you turn,"then you better get your foot on the damn pedal!"

Does Nakata ever cares about others? The outcome is a big fat no in red. But even for cats, there are some exceptions and Ten is the exception. The Siamese cat doesn't like anyone unless it's Ten Lee. But fuck the world for having only one Lee Yongqin.

[00:13]

Ten decide to only let Nakata out to avoid getting you fired.

He gently stroke the purring cat.

Oh, to be a cat is a blessing. To be pat by a man named Ten Lee is a blessing. You look in awe, "See, Nakata? I told you you're a 'tsundere'."

The cat glares, then proceeds back to enjoy his little massage therapy. He's too tired to argue you (or he just simply loves ignoring people). You chuckle, turning to Ten. "Do you want some coffee?"

Ten shakes his head briefly. "I don't want an adrenaline rush." You shrug your shoulders, his lost. "Oh please, as if college students aren't caffeine addicts. I'm dialling the pizza." You say, phone on your hand, dialling the local pizza. When you were a kid (actually still till this day), you develop a fear of ordering. And you absolutely hate it when your mom left you alone at the cashier because apparently she forgot to grab the sugar.

You had no money and you were nervous seeing the line had shorten up.

You ring up, and order one box of pepperoni. Classic choice. Nothing goes wrong with classics. Ten sighs, sinking into the torn couch. "Seriously, I live off pizza and coffee. Kun probably hates me for that." He smirks, remembering a friend from college. "There are so many reasons to hate you, darling. Hey, isn't Kun a music major?" You smirk.

Ten once told you about Kun, his roommate. Ten is the epitome of party of life and he could never turn down alcohol for God's sake. Because God forbid him being sober. And one time, he knocked out himself and Kun had to dragged his ass back home. Kun was mostly mad that he had to be responsible for Ten (because the lecturer would ask him about Ten's whereabouts). The whole campus knows they're roommates.

Ten's famous, it's expected.

And you somehow still remember it because 1)if you were to be in love, you will make sure to remember everything. 2)he complains about how kun sounds like his mom a lot—and you could never be anymore happy knowing there is someone taking care of him. 3)kun told you too. He also figured out on how much you're in love with Ten and quoted, "it's as if he's your world—no, your entire universe." And you couldn't agree more. You and kun are secretly friends behind Ten's back.

Preferably because you two gossips about him in the chat...a lot. He said they're for blackmailing if Ten ever threatens him. But you just answer, drop a basket of fruits on the welcoming mat, monotonously.

"Yeah, he always nag how we don't take care of health. Calories and whatever. Sometimes I wonder why he just don't take nutritions."

""Yeah, he always nag how we don't take care of health. Calories and whatever." Ten huffs, watching the cat jumps off his lap and dissapear somewhere between the wooden shelves. "He sounds like Winwin. That guy always nag about people's taste in coffee. He hates it when they order iced Americano because apparently, that's basic." You say with despite, because he did judge you for just ordering iced Americano. It isn't your fault for getting overwhelmed by the sudden tick of anxiety.

That was a year ago, the night you met Sicheng. It was Christmas and he was desperate to close the cafe and barely even got the cats into the cage.

Ten rolls his eyes, "tell me about it." But in the end, he knows you have a soft spot for Sicheng (though he never really know who is this man). That man is cute and has a thing for astrology? Sign (Y/n) the fuck up. Ten is still busy catching up with other people and it's selfish of you to think he'd give up his time just for you. You wish you're his only friend but Ten's an extrovert. He greets everyone and anyone.

You decide to take a bold step forward, "how's dancing?" The topic still hurts you a bit but maybe it's time to move on. What happened already happened. He looks at you dead in the eye. "You know, why can't I just dance and drop the history in dancing? Why do we have to use our brains too? It's exhausting!" He throws his arms into the air, letting out a wail. His focus now on you, he asks, "how about you?"

The question is blurry. The answer is ambiguous. Is he asking about how are you doing? Should you answer with, "oh I'm in love with you and it hurts when you weren't here," or "oh, everything's okay, even if my heart aches like shit and I nearly died from the butterflies you gave me," and you choose neither.

Instead, you reply with, "journalism is still shitty. But Miss Dahlia is shittier. She thinks the whole world revolves around her." You say with despite lacing between your teeth. You hate her with a passion for asking you to write an essay about inspiration. To be decent, you entered journalism to write articles about true crime stories.

"Elaborate."

"Please allow me to jump out of the window and bury myself into the ground."

"Straight to hell." He offers his first bump. And gladly greet him back.

"From, hell."

The doorbell rings. The pizza has arrived. You walk towards the door and grab Ten's wallet from his coat that's hanging at the door. He scowls, loud enough for you to know. You brush it off. Ten has been loving off you so it's time he returns the favour. He signed up the friendship contract, nonverbal, and it clearly states, "always feed your best friend." You smile to the delivery man and wave goodbye.

You take steps to the carpet and put the box of pizza on the coffee table. You pull your knees near your chest, taking a warm slice of pizza to relieve your hunger. "How are things for you?" You start.

"Well, my life is cool." He replies, toneless. Your question make him pursue his lips, recalling everything he has done in life. The question is subjective yet he feels as if you're slipping through the cracks of his fingers—and he is beyond fucking scared to lose you. But he knows that's selfish of him.

"No potential lovers?" You yawn, sleepiness has been taunting you for the night. You can't afford to sleep here or you're getting fired. And Sicheng will kill you for leaving him alone dealing with impatient customers who doesn't know how to appreciate baristas that works hard to serve the best beverage. Being a barista is hard but falling in love with Ten is harder.

Ten stretch his arm, "not really, college is hectic for love. Too hectic." You could see his bruises on the legs as his jeans rolled up a bit. Dancers has them and he always said that it's fine and normal. Since dancers uses their bodies a lot, it's almost a routine for bruises to come along on the way.

"Have you ever been in love, Ten?" That caught him off guard. Not once you have asked him about love. It comes naturally to him. To him, love is something he wants to feel and share. That's the reason he chose dancing. To share people about his love for art performance by simply moving his body with the music. It's like fluid. You go wherever music takes you.

You take a deep breath. Love to you is completely selfish. You have no idea how to pursue love in any ways.

"My friends there...they're in love. They found someone to cherish romantically. They found someone to love and sometimes...I feel left out. They hang out with their partners on holidays and I can't really expect them to be free always." So you let it out. Those hidden feelings everytime you felt around your friends. You don't want to say you're desperate to be loved, rather you want someone to love.

After all, love is the reason of existence. To be a human is to feel emotions, to be hurt and to hurt, to make mistakes and be one sometimes.

Ten is silent. And you don't really mind, at all. So you continue, spilling your emotions and left no crumbs."My family keeps pestering me to find someone. You know how I am. I don't believe in love at first sight. I want a love that starts from a relationship. Trust is earned." He agrees by nodding silently. He doesn't need to say anything unless need to be.

"I wish I could live in a cottage with cats." You let out a breathless laugh, tears threatening to spill like pearl beads falling. He joins in,"oh, to live in a cottage core aesthetic," draping his arm over his forehead and clutch his chest.

"Sometimes, I wish I have someone too." You confess, looking away from him. Gazing at the stars, your cheeks flushed. You have no intention of hinting on him but hey, we live once. So fuck it.

Ten murmurs under his breath, "what if they're close?" He decides for himself. He's a grown man and Sicheng thinks—for some reason—fate holds everything and Ten thinks otherwise. As if the stars had written for him to be in love with you, then so be it. If he loves, he loves hard.

"Wha—" you don't have enough time. Ten says that a lot because he thinks you're going to drift away once again so he crashes his lips onto yours.

The kiss isn't the one you'd call a great one. However, it's the kind of kiss that would still leave butterflies in your stomach. The two of you are still new about this, he doesn't ask you to define and neither do you. The kiss sent sparks all over your body, he doesn't really know how to lead. But it's okay, kisses can wait to be perfected —with practice.

Everything is hazy and love is still unfair. Love is still a question no one could ever answer, playing with every human beings feelings. But that's okay because you can take slow steps with Ten, to define the journey. But you know he's going to be with you till the end of the world. Because he passed his awkward angsty teenage hears with you, he was there when you pulled your wisdom teeth out, he was there when you lost Thian and helped you to move on from it (hopefully the cat is fine wherever he is).

The spring ended and it's time for a new summer full of hope and sparks of potential love.

[franniebanana]

CQL Rewatch - Ep15

I forgot this guy’s name, Yao or something? Honestly, I don’t care enough to research this, like, at all. I hate this guy. My friend and I now refer to him as the Hype Man, so I might just call him that from now on. But I wanted to say that I didn’t realize he was in it so early, so when I saw him, I was like, “That fucking guy!!” And I also totally missed that the point of Jiang Fengmian leaving was to take this worthless piece of trash somewhere. I wish he’d died haha. But then I guess there’d be less reason to hate him, and I enjoy hating him.

I can’t believe this is the first paragraph that people are going to see. If you’re reading this now, you’re like, why do I want to read this crap? And y’know what, I can’t blame you. The next few episodes are gonna be rough. I don’t even know if there will be much to say on my end. My friend, after watching these few episodes commented something like, “Huh, that really dragged.” I could only agree, pulling my hair out from the headache these few episodes were giving me.

Okay, but seriously, Yao is so pathetic here! Talking about how he never thought they’d end up like this, and, “Oh, we were just a small clan, woe is me!” It’s amazing that he turns into the biggest prick, always right there hyping up the scapegoat-blame game rhetoric. Sorry, I hate this fucker.

A rare nice moment from Madam Yu. It was sweet having her show a caring side, packing medicine for her husband, snacks for her daughter. But of course, it was because Jiang Yanli had come to say goodbye to her earlier. Jiang Cheng is really like his mother—they can’t do anything for kindness’s sake, there’s always an obligation to the kindness.

I hate Wang Lingjiao, but I love her, and I love hating her. I’m conflicted. She’s just such a fun, evil character, more fun than Xue Yang in my opinion, probably because she actual interacts with the main characters in the story. It will forever annoy me that Xue Yang gets so much attention for appearing in a long-ass flashback (via empathy) and what should have been a flashback (Chang Clan) but wasn’t because they wanted it to be padding, I guess.

Anyway, Wang Lingjiao. She’s fun, she goes completely nuts—what’s not to love about her? She’s also someone who is so similar to Madam Yu, but because she also is ambitious and wants to take over Lotus Pier, Madam Yu wants her dead. Haha!

While Madam Yu is, objectively, a horrible person, I actually really like how her bodyguards aren’t treated like servants. I like that there’s mutual respect there, as there should be when you’re talking about protecting someone. Unfortunately, I think Madam Yu treats them better than her own family in most cases. It’s cool that the Jiang Clan doesn’t rely on servants to get food and tea and whatnot. These are things that the disciples and leaders must do for themselves. By contrast, the Jins have so many servants—it’s almost obscene by comparison.

Also I want to point out how hot-headed Jiang Cheng gets here, while his mother is just cool as a cucumber. It really shows you how unready he is to actually lead (which she points out). He’s so emotional, quick to anger, yet he has none of the foundations to really lead a group of people. Even when the disciples are explaining to them what happened to the kid and the kite, it’s Wei Wuxian who is keeping everyone calm and asking the questions.

I love that his first reaction here is to insult Wang Lingjiao’s intelligence. We’re basically getting a parallel to how he reacts to Wen Chao, which is fun because you can see how his behavior hasn’t changed at all. He uses his wit in both situations and is easily able to outwit both Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao. What’s kind of interesting is that Jiang Cheng will speak up now when he wouldn’t before. And I wonder is it because he is guilty for being silent earlier with Wen Chao, or is it something else? I think ultimately Jiang Cheng blames Jin Xizuan, Lan Wangji, and Wei Wuxian for what happens to his parents and to Lotus Pier. Even though, logically, it would have been destroyed anyway, he still wants to place the blame on someone who he can reach. All this is to say, I don’t think Jiang Cheng regrets not speaking up at the Wen Indoctrination. So I think he feels superiority over Wang Lingjiao really because he thinks she’s a stupid woman. And duh, she is not that clever. But she is smart enough to be able to use what talents she has to get ahead. She apparently is favored over Wen Chao’s own wife (who knew he was even married—not me lol), and you have to be ambitious and have some smarts to get that far. That’s not to say that Jiang Cheng wouldn’t treat a man this way too—I think he would. I think he picks and chooses who he’ll stand up to. He’s on his own turf, she’s an invader, she’s a woman—she only brought a few henchmen, right? He’s also been charged with watching over Lotus Pier in his father’s absence. Maybe he just wants to look big for once. Just a thought. Take it or leave it.

So, I think Madam Yu is enjoying this. She’s getting two things she wants: the Wens are going to leave and she gets to beat the shit out of Wei Wuxian. She doesn’t even have to be prodded to punish him, right? She barely waits until Wang Lingjiao has finished speaking. This has something she’s wanted to do for a long time. I think she’s hit him before, yes? But she can go all out right now, since Jiang Fengmian, his only real protector, is gone.

Also Jiang Cheng! Man, he’s torn apart! He hates to see this happening to Wei Wuxian—yes, he blames him for all that shit, but he doesn’t want to see this happen to him. It’s actually harder to watch Jiang Cheng in all of this than Wei Wuxian, who mostly remains as stoic as he could possibly be while she’s whipping the shit out of him. And again here, we get Wei Wuxian telling Jiang Cheng not to interfere, because the last thing he wants is for Jiang Cheng to be penalized too. He’s fine receiving this punishment because it’s a “better me than him” kind of a thing. It’s harder to watch someone else suffer than to suffer ourselves, right? I’m like that, idk if you readers are, but I think a lot of people are like that. I mean, I’ve always been that way, but it’s been amplified since I became a parent. And not only is he accepting of being whipped by Zidian, he’s ready to lose his fucking right hand. The hand that he wields a sword with. His dominant hand. He is ready to lose it with absolutely no fuss. That’s how much Wei Wuxian cares about Lotus Pier. His response is, “I’ll have to learn how to use my left hand.” It’s a passing line, a line when you can’t even see his face—but do you get how big that is? Jiang Cheng is up there losing his mind, completely emotional, crying, yelling at his mother to stop—Wei Wuxian is just silently gritting his teeth and taking it. They’re both brave (I would not want to stand up to Madam Yu), but different kinds of brave, y’know?

I do love this part. I’m not gonna lie. Seeing Madam Yu slap Wang Lingjiao around is something that’s deeply, deeply satisfying. I guess it’s just nice to see Madam Yu’s anger turned towards an actual villain, since up until this point, it’s been directly mainly at Wei Wuxian and her own husband. I think this part is forever tainted if you know how the story goes, because Madam Yu is just on fire! But if you’ve seen this series before, which hopefully you have (otherwise spoilers abound), you know it doesn’t end well for her. I like this plot device here, making you think that the good guys are going to come out on top, and then reversing it so quickly as soon as the Core-Melting Hand shows up. One minute, you’re cheering, the next, you’re…not.

I also want to point out how quickly things reverse here as well. Jiang Cheng is trying to protect and comfort Wei Wuxian throughout this whole scene, which is something we’re definitely not used to seeing. This has always (and I mean always) been more of Lan Wangji’s thing. But in kind of a nice twist of fate, we actually see Jiang Cheng caring for Wei Wuxian. But then, boy, do things change! We see a complete reversal of this behavior—first Wei Wuxian has to be there for Jiang Cheng’s emotional state, and then his physical one. And the man does not complain about it at all.

I want to say that I didn’t cry in my first watch of CQL until episode 50. That is 100% the truth, so help me God. However, when I watched this scene in the donghua, I cried like a little bitch. Cried probably isn’t the right word—how about sobbed. I sobbed. I think because I knew it was coming when I watched CQL, it didn’t really affect me (plus my husband was right there, not paying attention, but still on the couch with me, so I tend to not cry as much when he’s around. I like to cry on my own, okay?). Having said that, the second time I saw this scene, I fucking cried, and I really didn’t stop until after they told Jiang Yanli, because that sweetheart crying makes me cry, okay? I have a really hard time watching things about children and parents, because I always think about my own parents and my own kid, so it just makes me really emotional. The idea of never seeing your parents again, especially in such a traumatic situation, at the age of what—17? That’s something I can’t even begin to imagine. In a word, horrific. Traumatic isn’t even a strong enough word to describe the emotional and mental turmoil that a teenager would be going through. But I can probably ramble about that later.

And my heart breaks for Wei Wuxian here too. Even though she hated him, even though she treated him so poorly, I’m sure he still thought of her as something akin to a mother. She was the only mother figure he had in his life who was still living, so there was definitely an attachment there (and this is proven later). Even being acknowledged by her here must mean something to him. She may hate him, but she trusts him to keep her children safe and to protect them. It’s honestly so sad.

Ugh, this is hard to watch. As a mother, the idea of sending your kid adrift when you know you’ll probably never see them again is so heartbreaking. The connection you have with your children is something that no other relationship can match, whether you physically bore your children or not. They are a part of you. Like, let’s be real, raising children is difficult—they can test your patience, make you angry, make you sad and hurt (toddlers don’t care about you, yeah, I said it)—but you love them in spite of it all. And for me, I can never really hate Madam Yu. I can find her attitude and treatment of certain individuals deplorable, but at the end of the day, she loved her children. Was she a good mom? No, probably not. But I don’t think Jiang Fengmian was a good dad either (although I think he tried a bit harder). But I think she loved A-Cheng and A-Li, and I think she trusted Wei Wuxian to protect them. I think she gave him that shred of respect at the end.

In case you’re wondering, I fucking cried through to the end of this episode. I mean, Jesus, Yanli just gets immediately thrown into another boat and tied up with her brothers, after finding out that her mother might be dead already, and then her dad abandons them too. I just can’t.

I’m sorry this was short (maybe I’m not sorry, depending on how much you like the episode). I’m going to try and knock out more than one episode per week because I just don’t have a lot to say. These are mainly getting through the plot episodes, if you know what I mean.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |

[honeyoongiah]

Hoseok Pregnancy! AU

Pairings: Hoseok x reader 

Genre: Pregnant! y/n, fluff, smut 

Words: 1.4k 

Warnings: mention of body image, explicit sex 

Summary:

As soon as Hoseok entered your shared home, you felt the warm comforting energy in the room as usual when he surrounded you. "Baby? I'm back and I brought you your favorite ice cream!" You smiled softly and stroked your belly. It really got quite big, you were in your 5th month already and Hoseok couldn't be more excited to finally be a dad.

"Welcome back Hoseokie, we missed you a lot.", you smiled at him lovingly. He put down the groceries and hurried to you for a kiss. You chuckled when he pulled your shirt up to kiss your belly as well. "Hello baby, hello Noah." - "I'm sorry that I asked you to go shopping so late, we just reaaally needed this ice cream.", you smiled with big puppy eyes. "You're adorable, I can't believe I have you all to myself.", he grinned and kissed your head. "I'll prepare it for you, you can stay here."

You watched how he went out while humming a song and put the groceries away. Then he made you your bowl with your favorite ice cream with some chocolate syrup on top. This man really did everything he could to make this pregnancy easy for you and he never complained about it, not a single time.

Hoseok always massaged you, brought you snacks or prepared a bath for you, anything you needed and always with a soft smile on his lips. He told you he does it with pleasure, he just loved you so much that he enjoyed spoiling you and he was thankful that you carried his child under your heart. 

It wasn't easy at first, you had a problematic start and just couldn't get pregnant, no matter what you did. It took months and months but Hoseok never gave up or seemed disappointed in you. He stayed positive and lifted your mood as well. Just as you were about to involve doctors, one of your regular pregnancy tests got positive and your little baby that you named already grew and grew.

You got up and walked to the kitchen, you just didn't want to be separated from your lovely husband anymore. "Baby? Why did you get up? Go back I'm coming in a bit.", he said without looking up from the ice cream bowl. "Don't tell me what to do.", you pouted. "I want to be with you, fuck the ice cream." Hoseok chuckled when he felt your arms wrapping around his waist and your head laying on his back. "I just want to take care of you."

"I know and I love you so much for that.", you said and kissed his back. He smiled to himself and turned around with your bowl. "I'm done baby let's go to bed now." You nodded and walked towards the bedroom, him following your steps. He sat down and gestured you to sit between his legs, which you always loved to do. That meant you'd get a massage and nice belly rubs while you got to eat. Hoseok kissed your head when you leaned on his chest and you sighed in enjoyment. "You're tense baby, I'll massage you.", he said and started with your neck and continued on your shoulders and your back. You hummed and ate your ice cream, this was pure heaven for you. He was so skilled with his hands, everyone told him he could easily become a masseur. "Oh yes it hurts there.", you whined when he touched the right spot. Hoseok massaged it a little longer and kissed your shoulder. "How was your day baby?"

"I missed you when you were at work, then I was happy when you came back, then I missed you when you were grocery shopping, now I am happy that you are back." He chuckled at your words, the most beautiful sound to you, and kissed your cheek. "I missed you two too baby.", he said softly into your ear and started to stroke your belly. "Ah I got so fat.", you said with a pout. You could hear the indignation in his voice when he answered you.

"Why would you think something like that? You're not fat, not at all baby. Your belly is growing because Noah is growing and you look more beautiful every day. You could gain 50 more pounds or lose 10 I don't care as long as you are happy and healthy, I'd always find you and your body incredibly gorgeous." For you Hoseok always found the right words to comfort you. "Thank you." 

He continued to stroke your body and leave soft kisses on your neck. You closed your eyes and moaned softly when he sucked on a sensitive spot gently. "I love your kisses so much." - "I thought we can do a little more than just kissing.", he whispered into your ear and began to stroke your thigh. You smiled and turned around to sit on his lap. "Yeah? For example?"

"A little touching here and there, a little more moaning.", he said and left more wet kisses on your neck. "That sounds really good.", you answered and stroked his chest under his shirt before he pulled it over his head.

He helped you out of your own clothes as well and started cherishing every spot he could touch or kiss. "You're so beautiful", he whispered and massaged your sensitive breasts gently. You moaned softly, your hips starting to move against his uncontrollably. 

"I need you Hoseok, please.", you whined and he pulled you in for a long passionate kiss. While your lips were playing with each other, he grabbed your ass and lifted you up, his dick on your entrance now.

You had no patience for his teasing so you sat down, both of you groaning in pleasure. It didn't take long until you started to hold onto his shoulders and rolled your hips. "God yes baby, just like that.", he praised you. "You're doing so good."

"It feels so good.", you whined and your fingers found their way into his hair to pull it. Hoseok watched how your body moved for him, how he disappeared into you again and again. You loved how much he craved you and that you knew he never looked at anyone like that, so you smiled. "Don't smile at me like that, you know it drives me crazy.", he groaned and you giggled, at least until he started thrusting up into you. You moaned louder and digged your nails into his shoulders. "Ohgod Hoseok!"

It felt like his hands were everywhere at the same time, your head got blurry from the pleasure and you moved faster. You needed more of him, you wished this moment could last forever. "You're so incredibly sexy, God I'm so lucky."

His praises always made you blush but you loved them, he never failed to show you how much he loved every single part of you and made you feel good in your own skin. He stroked your sides up and down, kneaded your ass and kissed your whole upper body until he started sucking on your nipples.

He knew that especially since you were pregnant, you were really sensitive and it drove you absolutely crazy. "A-ah Hoseok! I'm gonna cum soon if you do this.", you whined and moved your hips faster and faster. He groaned and you could feel his dick twitching inside of you. "Me too baby, you just feel so good God cum with me.", he said while looking into your eyes and sent you over the edge. Both of you moved more desperately until you came on each other, making out deeply while riding out each other's orgasms.

Hoseok stroked your hair and helped you to lay down, put a blanket over you and pulled you close into his arms. You could feel his lips kissing your forehead and heard a soft I love you before drifting away into a deep sleep.

The next morning you couldn't see Hoseok next to you, but you didn't get to stand up because he entered the room with a plate of food. "I made you breakfast.", he smiled and you shook your head. "You're so perfect. You treat me so well I don't deserve it." - "I'll always treat you like this baby, you deserve to be treated like a queen." You smiled at him lovingly and kissed his lips. "We love you Hoseokie." - "I love you two too."

[appalachianwiine]

Swim - Chapter 7 - You’re Not Alone

I wanna roll up,

I'm gonna roll up my sleeves.

I'm gonna fight for you,

I'm gonna fight till I bleed.

So, listen to me now.

“You’re Not Alone” by Marie Miller

True to Dr. Rhee’s word, Lydia’s nausea starts that evening and even with zofran she’s up most of the night throwing up and dry heaving. The short clusters she does sleep are spent pressed against Daryl, his shirt tightly fisted in her hand almost in a panic that he might disappear. Daryl doesn’t manage any sleep himself aside from the occasional dose. 

By the time daylight seeps back into the room, dripping through the blinds and over the bed clothes, Daryl is exhausted. His back is killing him from holding Lydia propped up all night long, and the idea of coffee is very much appealing. However this morning Lydia is resistant to the idea of breakfast. Her stomach still feels bad, she complains and she wants him to stay with her. Finally after firmly telling her he hadn’t slept last night and needed to get some coffee, but that he’d be back in ten minutes, she relents. She climbs off his lap into the other half of the bed and nestles up with the pillows, falling asleep again in minutes. 

At the elevator, he finds Ezekiel stepping in, this time pushing a wheelchair. The boy inside it is a ghostly shell of the one who two days ago had been giggling with his daughter. Henry’s almost translucent now, and his eyes look dully ahead. Ezekiel doesn’t look much better, his ashen face betraying the exhaustion of the last couple of days. Evidently he hadn't been sleeping either. 

“Cafeteria?” Daryl asks, pressing the button for the floor. 

“Radiology.” Ezekiel mutters, reaching past him and pressing the button for the floor before the cafeteria. 

“Everything okay?” Daryl asks, the answer is a heavy ‘no’ that hangs in the air between them but what is he supposed to do? Pretend they’re not there. 

“I can’t poop.” Henry’s tiny voice speaks up from the wheelchair. 

“Yes, some, tummy trouble.” Ezekiel mutters. “They’re doing a dye with contrast to make sure there’s no blockage.” 

“Oh.” Daryl frowns. “Sorry kiddo.” 

“Yeah.” Henry mutters.

“How’d Lydia handle her first chemo?” Ezekiel asks. 

“She uh - she was up most of the night bein’ sick.” Daryl sighs. “Don’ wanna eat this mornin’ but I think I’m gonna pick somethin’ up fer her anyway.” 

“Try the waffles.” Henry mumbles. “No butter or syrup.” 

“Really?” Daryl frowns. 

“Henry has an easier time keeping them down then other things.” Ezekiel nods. 

“Thanks kid.” Daryl offers a smile. 

“Yeah.” Henry nods. The elevator doors open to the radiology floor and Ezekiel pushes the wheelchair out. “Tell Lydia i say hi.” 

“I will kid. Good luck.” Daryl nods, watching the doors slide closed again and cut off his view of Henry and Ezekiel. 

Lydia does manage to keep a few bites of waffle down, but whether that’s some magical waffle power or the medication finally kicking in he isn’t sure. Either way she spends most of the day napping and watching TV. Part of him is thankful for that, it lets him have some much needed sleep too, but another part is acutely aware of how out of character this is. In 24 hours from her first dose of chemo she’s gone from a rough and tumble kid to one who wants to sleep all the time. 

After a few hours awake in the afternoon, Lydia falls asleep after dinner - which was another few bites of waffle from the cafeteria - Daryl’s considering sleeping himself when there’s a light knock on the door. He jumps up to answer it, not wanting Lydia woken. 

Carol. 

Shit, the support group. 

“Oh shit.” He mutters. 

“I figured you either weren’t planning on coming or you forgot.” Carol says, holding out a coffee cup. “I’m not taking either for an answer.” 

“I - Lydia just fell asleep.” Daryl says, taking the coffee. “She’s had a rough night I can’t - I can’t just leave her.” 

“It’s an hour.” Carol says. “Trust me Daryl I know how hard this is, I went through it too, but you need this, for Lydia as much as for you.” 

“Who’s going to sit with Lyd?” He asks. 

“The nurses can keep an eye on her.” Carol says. “I’ve already talked to Sasha about it, she’ll check in every ten minutes.” 

“I don’t -“ 

“And I left her your cell number she’ll call if Lydia wakes up and then you can leave.” Carol insists. “Just try one meeting, we’re not all bad.” 

“Right.” Daryl sighs, looking back at his sleeping daughter. She was out pretty good, and if her last few naps were any indication she’d remain asleep for a couple of hours. “Alrigh’, but she wakes up an’ I’m comin’ back.” 

“Good.” Carol smiles. “Come on, the chapel’s this way.” 

“Chapel?” Daryl frowns. “‘S this a religious thing?” 

“Not really.” Carol says. “But the chapel is the best place for it, it’s a little more homey then the conference rooms and not as impersonal as some of the lecture halls.” 

“What about that room?” Daryl points to the one he’d signed the forms in. “It’s pretty homey.” 

Carol’s blue eyes dart to the door and then quickly away, she swallows hard. “Some of us… have bad memories with rooms like that.” 

“Wh-what d’ ya mean?” Daryl asks, suddenly uneasy, as they pass the door to the small suddenly ominous room, and stand in front of the elevators. 

Carol doesn't’ answer until the elevator doors slide open and she steps inside, pressing the button for the third floor. “That room… that room is usually used to deliver bad news. It’s - it’s the room where some of us learned our kids weren’t going to make it.” Evidently the horror is clear on his face because she offers a weak smile. “Sorry. I know they - they use it for other stuff too but that memory is… it prevails.” 

“Sorry.” Daryl says finally. 

“It’s fine.” Carol assures. “You didn’t know. But yes, the chapel is easiest, it fits us all pretty nicely too.” 

“‘s Ezekiel gonna be there?” Daryl asks. 

“No.” Carol shakes her head. “Henry isn’t… he’s had a rough day.” 

“Blockage?” Daryl asks. 

“Well No.” Carol frowns. “Just constipation I think, but they’re having trouble figuring out why. He’s on some medication to resolve it but it’s hard on him.” 

“Oh.” Daryl says. “I uh - I saw him this morning, with Ezekiel. In the elevator.” 

“Yea he Zeke mentioned it.” Carol nods. “Henry wants an update on Lydia later.” 

“Yeah he asked about her.” Daryl nods. 

“He’s a good kid.” Carol smiles a little. “He thinks of everyone else first, even in a place like this.” 

“He’ll be alright?” Daryl asks, stepping out of the elevator after her. 

“Maybe.” Carol sighs. He’s doing okay now, but there’s really no telling. There never is.” 

“Oh.” Daryl sighs.

“Just in here.” Carol pulls open a door and Daryl steps inside. 

There’s a circle of about a dozen chairs, occupied by a variety of different people, a girl who can’t be older than 20, a man in his 70s, a man in a priest's collar, a couple holding hands, and one rather ragged looking woman, with short choppy hair. 

“Not a bad turn out.” Carol smiles, taking a seat and motioning Daryl into the one next to her. Daryl sits down, looking around at the others. “So we have a new parent joining us today. Daryl why don’t you uh introduce yourself.” 

The last thing he wanted was to be put on the spot right now, but now everyone was staring at him, he shifted uncomfortably, taking a swig of the coffee before answering. 

“I uh - well ‘m Daryl.” He mutters. “My uh - my daughter was diagnosed with Leukemia 3 days ago. We uh - we don’t know what kind yet but uh, it’s just the two of us. Her mom - well she’s adopted. Her mom’s not in the picture, never will be and uh -  it’s hard to believe that four days ago the word leukemia wasn’t even one i thought about.” 

“It’s always like that.” One of the men says, his long hair tied up in a bun and a short beard covering his chin. He holds the hand of the man next to him, his husband Daryl thinks, a man with sorter hair and a thicker bearded. “The day before our Gracie was diagnosed… well there’s a saying here. “The day before my child was diagnosed i wasn’t a cancer parent either”. I’m Paul, this is my husband Aaron.” 

“Yeah.” Daryl nods. “That’s - that’s what it feels like. Almost like -“ 

“Like having a newborn.” The man next to him, Aaron, says. “You’re handed all this responsibility and someone who relies on you for absolutely everything and - and you have no idea what you’re doing.” 

“I guess.” Daryl shrugs. “But uh- Lydia was four when I adopted her. So I guess I don’t know about that. But she’s been through some stuff before, and this just feels… unfair.” 

“It is.” The old man says. “And that’s something that hasn’t changed in 50 years. I’m Dale, my wife and I - we lost our daughter to leukemia in 1970. The survival prospects were a lot worse then but - but it’s never been fair.” 

“Never will be.” Carol says, Daryl feels her reach over and take his hand, she gives it a squeeze, a gesture he’s not accustomed to but finds comforting. 

“So you’re all - all cancer parents?” Daryl swallows, looking around. 

“With the exception of Father Gabriel, and Enid.” Carol motions to the priest and the twenty something girl. “Enid is a cancer survivor.” 

“Non Hodgkin's Lymphoma.” Enid says. “I was 10 when I was diagnosed. I’ve been cancer free for 9 years and considered cured for 4. But the long term side effects are still there.” 

“But - but you’re doin’ alright?” Daryl asks, trying not to let hope seep in. “You’re okay?” 

“As okay as I can be.” Enid shrugs. “I’m in my junior year of college, premed.” 

“So your daughter, has she started the chemo yet?” Dale asks. 

“Yeah um yesterday, she’s having a day off today but we’ll get more tomorrow.” Daryl pushes his hair out of his eyes. “We should get her biopsy results back then too, so we’ll uh - we’ll have some answers.” 

“Good.” Aaron nods. “A treatment plan helps a little - at least it did with us, made us feel like we had some control. It opens up options for clinical trials too - if that’s something you want to do.” 

“Clinical trials, like - test medicine yeah?” Daryl asks. 

“Yeah,” Aaron says. “Ezekiel and Henry are here for one. I think Leah’s son is in one and Lucille your son was yeah?” 

“Yeah.” The woman with short choppy hair nods. “He was but - well the outcome wasn’t good.” 

“Is he uh…” Daryl isn’t sure how to finish the sentence and looks to Carol for help, but her blue eyes are focused on the woman. 

“Dead?” The woman says. “Yeah. Six months tomorrow. He uh - he had brain cancer. Was terminal from diagnosis. Good kid. Only seven.” 

“I’m -”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” she snaps. “Just hope like hell your kid doesn’t have to go through the same thing.” She crosses her thin arms and leans back in her chair. Daryl looks around the room, no one is saying anything, instead a few people glance at Carol. 

“Lucille,” Carol says gently. “Anniversaries can be hard. Is there anything you want to talk about?” 

“No.” Lucielle mutters. “Sorry I just - the last few days have been really hard. I uh - I’m trying to sell the house - I just can’t live there anymore and everyone who comes in asks.” 

“Ah.” Carol says, reaching across the row and giving Lucille’s hand a squeeze. “That’s not easy. It isn’t going to get easier either, I still have a hard time talking about Sophia.” 

“It’s never going to get easier.” Lucille nods. “But uh - I hope taking the dogs and getting out of the city will help. I’ve got a property up north, I’m using the divorce settlement for that and since he gave me the house I’m planning on using the money from that to build.” She reaches up to dab at her eyes with her sleeves. “I uh I’m sorry Daryl I- I” 

“‘S fine.” Daryl says quickly. ‘I uh - I can’t imagine what it's like losing’ a kid an’ havin’ a divorce.” 

“I hope you never have to know.” Lucille picks at her nails. “It’s not something i’d wish on anyone.” 

“You uh - you mentioned a clinical trial?” Daryl says carefully. “What uh - what was that like? The process.” 

“We pretty much had to go to a clinical trial.” Lucille wipes her eyes and takes a tissue from Carol. “His brain cancer was aggressive from the start and uh - it has a 0% survival rate over five years. At diagnosis we were told he was terminal, and we ended up going to Germany for a clinical trial. Instead of the 9 months survival we got about 18 months, but um, one thing we found was that our insurance would not cover the clinical trial because it was out of the country. We were lucky though um, we had a really good church and they fundraised for the trial.” 

Daryl’s stomach twists further. He hadn’t thought about the costs of clinical trials - or being declared terminal at diagnosis. Lydia couldn’t be that, he refused to believe that was even an option for her. He also hadn’t ever considered a clinical trial, would she need one? She couldn’t be one of those kids could she? The ones so sick that their only hope for survival was an experimental treatment? 

“Not all clinical trial is like that.” Carol says quickly. “Henry’s clinical trial is covered by insurance, and I think Matthew’s is.”

“Matthew?” He says. 

“Leah’s nephew.” Carol says. “She’s not here today, spiritual commitment. But he’s in the same trial as Henry. A little further along though. He just finished his second stem cell transplant.” 

“Oh.” Daryl says. “Is uh he one of Henry’s friends too?” 

“Um kind of.” Carol says. 

“He’s not really anyone's friend.” Paul says. “Leah keeps him… pretty isolated. They’re a little… weird to be honest.” 

“Paul,” Aaron says harshly. “Who are we to judge with how she’s handling her kid’s cancer.” 

“I wouldn’t judge if that sister of hers wasn’t being drug out of here high or drunk half the time he’s admitted. It’s disruptive and dangerous.” Paul snaps back. 

“They let that happen?” Daryl frowns. 

“Technically it’s her supervised visitation.” Paul says. “But it happens so often it’s a wonder she’s still allowed any.” 

“Parental rights aren’t that easy to terminate.” Daryl says. “Especially fer moms. Jus’ cut ‘er some slack. ‘S a hard enough situation t’ be in with a healthy kid.” 

“Grace requires nothing.” The man in the priest's collar says. 

“That isn’t always true father.” Paul says. “Sometimes grace requires a hell of a lot.” 

“Leah is doing her best.” Carol insists. “We all are, it’s all we can do, and we need to support each other. You know as well as I do that no one outside this room can possibly understand that.” 

“She’s right babe.” Aaron says, reaching for his husband’s hand. “No one else knows what this is like. Hell or highwater remember?” 

“Hell or highwater.” Paul mutters. 

“Well.” Carol says, glancing at her watch. “I think that’s about all we have time for today. Unless anyone has anything they would like addressed?” When no one spoke up Carol stood. “Thank you father for allowing us to use your chapel. Is the same time next week still okay?” 

“Of course.” the pastor nods.

“It was nice meeting you Daryl.” Aaron extends a hand as Daryl stands up. Daryl glances at  it a moment before taking it. 

“Uh  yeah…” He mutters. 

“We know how this can be.” Aaron says. “Our daughter is eight and a half. How old is your Lydia?” 

“She uh, just turned eight last month.” Daryl swallows.  

“We’ll have to get them together sometime.” Aaron smiles.  

“Yeah.” He nods. “Lydia’d like that.” 

“We should go.” Paul says, touching Aaron's arm gently.  

“Alright,” Aaron nods. “It was nice to meet you Daryl, I wish the circumstances were better.” 

Daryl is glad the man follows his husband out of the chapel then and he doesn’t have to answer. Not only was everyone in this room a cancer parents, but this wasn’t even all of them. There was at least one outstanding single parent he hadn’t met yet, and all of them had been where he was. 

“What did you think?” Carol asks, tucking her hands in her back pockets as she approaches him. 

“I uh - I don’ know.” He says. “‘F its fer me. Kinda… depressin’...” 

“Nature of the job,” she offers a weak smile. “Let me get you a coffee before you go back to Lydia?” 

“Uh -” he glanced at his phone. No missed calls, no texts. Lydia must still be asleep, and he can practically hear Lori’s voice encouraging him to go. “Yeah sure I guess. Just take out though I want to get back.” 

“Of course.” Carol says. “There’s a coffee shop right across the hall.” 

“So there’s uh - there’s still someone i haven’t met?” Daryl asks as they cross over to the small coffee shop. 

“Uh-huh.” Carol says. “Well a couple of people technically but most of the others don’t come regularly.” 

“Other single parents?” Daryl asks. 

“No.” Carol shakes her head. “Just Leah.” 

“Is she really that weird?” He asks, taking the black coffee Carol holds out to him. 

“Um.” Carol says. “She’s trying really hard for that kid, but some of the stuff… is a little odd I guess.” 

“What like - like oils and shit?” 

“Yeah mostly.” Carol nods. “But I try not to judge anyone for what they do with their kids during treatment. Even if they don’t work the placebo effect is strong. I remember when Sophia was sick she was convinced Vick’s vapo rub was the cure to her nausea so you bet that whole room smelled like Vick’s most of the time.” 

Daryl chuckles. “Sounds like my childhood.” 

“You were a vicks vapo rub fan?” Carol smiles, a sparkle coming to her eyes. 

“Oh Vick’s Vapo rub and Campbell’s Chicken Noodle are redneck healthcare.” Daryl grins. “I survived on that shit when i had the flu.” 

Carol laughs, a bright pretty sound, that makes even this place seem a little less dark. 

“What?” He teases. “Not all of us had parents who took us to the doctor.” 

“No no,” Carol says through the laughter. “It’s just - I was the same way as a kid. Vicks fixed everything.” 

“Damn straight.” Daryl grins. “Still does. Keep a jar in the cabinet just in case.” 

“Useful stuff.” Carol smiles. 

“I should uh - I should get back to Lydia.” Daryl says, glancing at the wall clock. “She’ll be up soon.” 

“Yeah.” Carol nods. “You get results tomorrow yeah?” 

“Should be tomorrow or the day after.” Daryl nods. 

“Give me a call?” She asks. “Please - I can come sit with Lydia if you need me to.” 

“I uh - i might take you up on that.” Daryl says. “We’ll have t’ get some more clothes an’ stuff at some point.” HE swallows. “You uh - you mind if I - if I call you with the results?” 

“Of course not.” Carol says. “I can answer just about any time.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Of course.” She reaches out and gives his arm a warm squeeze, the sensation lingering on him as he made his way  back up to Lydia’s room.

[dubersbutt]

He Doesn’t Have to Know - Nathan Mackinnon

Summary: Nate is a bartender working a slow shift when you walk in.

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: cheating, smut, the works

Tuesday nights. Nate had a love-hate relationship with the shift. On one hand, he mostly got paid to sit around and do nothing because hardly anyone showed up. On the other hand, few people meant few tips, and he got bored really easily.

He and Ej are messing around in the back when you walk in. He “accidentally” poured a glass of water on Ej’s chest which created a dilemma when your uniform consisted of a thin white dress shirt.

“Are you kidding me, man,” he says as he rolls his eyes, “you gotta take her, man. I can’t go out like this.”

“Are you sure?” Nate teases, “you might get a bigger tip looking like that, Magic Mike.”

“Shut up and go, dumbass.”

Nate laughs as he walks out the door. The first thing he notices about you is how well you’re dressed - which isn’t surprising considering everyone who comes here is rich and he assumes you’re no different. The second thing the notices is the gigantic ring on your finger, a ring that screamed “TAKEN” from a mile away.

“Evening ma’am,” he greets, “what can I get you?”

He watches your eyes travel up and down his body. Nate’s a good looking guy - played hockey when he was younger, goes to the gym every day - and his uniform hugs him in all the right places. Sure he could go up a size in shirts, but if he’s totally honest, he doesn’t mind the stares.

“Cosmo,” you say after a slight pause.

“Yes ma’am,” he starts on your drink and your smile. That’s when he notices, your nails, lipstick and dress are all the same shade of deep red that compliments your skin tone.

“Pretty lonely down here,” you say as he hands you his drink.

He shrugs, “I don’t mind. It means that I can talk with a pretty girl like you.”

So Nate flirted with married women every once in a while. He needed the tips!

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the ladies,” you reply as you bring your drink to your lips.

“Only the breathtakingly beautiful ones,” and he’s not lying. He doesn’t really flirt with anyone he doesn’t find attractive. And you were striking.

Just then, an immaculately dressed man walks in. His suit is some high-end brand Nate doesn’t know the name of but can recognize that it probably costs the same amount he paid for his car. His shoes are some soft leather without any creases and the face of his watch takes up his entire wrist. Dude was bougie.

He walks over to you and gives you a kiss on the cheek. So this must be the owner of the ring, Nate thinks.

“What can I get for you, sir?”

“Didn’t my wife already order for me,” he asks as he pulls out his phone and starts scrolling.

“No, sir.”

“Maybe you weren’t listening,” he replies as he taps his ear.

Nate takes a deep breath but you cut in before he can say anything.

“No, dear, your drink order changes every night, how would I know what you wanted,”  if Nate’s not mistaken there’s a slight bite to your voice.

The other man rolls his eyes, “scotch, neat.”

Nate takes a deep breath as he gets out the glass and realizes he never specified which scotch he wanted. He chooses the most expensive one and pours it into the glass. He slides it across the bar, which is the best part of his job even when the customers are dicks.

“I asked for this on the rocks,” he says he shakes the drink in Nate’s face.

Nate knows he didn’t but he’s also been doing this long enough to realize there’s no point in arguing and takes the glass to put one of the large round ice cubes from the freezer.

“Anything else I can get you?” Nate asks and prays that’s all you need.

“That’s all for now,” you say, cutting off your husband and Nate rushes to the back before he can say anything.

“Douchebag?” EJ asks while rubbing a towel on his still damp chest.

“Obviously.”

“You should have punched him.”

“I wanted to,” Nate replies as he runs his hand through his hair.

He and Ej chat for 20 minutes before Nate knows he should go out to check on you two. He tries to get Ej to do it but-

“I would rather stick my foot in the fryer than talk that man.”

And Nate would feel bad if Ej stuck his foot in the dryer because of him so he goes out instead.

When he gets outside his drink is relatively untouched and he has a stack of money in his hand.

“The cheque,” he demands and Nate walks over to the till to print it.

Thankfully he doesn’t have an argument about the prices - Nate really doesn’t think he can handle the “I just work here I don’t run the place” conversation right now.

“Are you coming with me?” he asks you after placing money in the cheque book. Surprise, surprise, he’s a lousy tipper.

“I’ve barely touched my drink.”

“Well I have to go, I’ll see you at home?”

You just nod your head and extend your neck for him to kiss your cheek. You watch as he leaves and as soon as he’s out the door you turn to Nate.

“I’m sorry about my husband,” you say holding a small piece of paper in between your fingers, “he’s a...difficult man. This should make up for his behaviour.”

He takes it and when he unfolds it he sees a 50 dollar bill.

“Are you su-“ he starts to ask but you hold up a hand, stopping him.

“Take it,” and so he does.

He starts to clean up your husband’s dishes, picking up the glass and dropping the contents in the sink. Such a waste of good scotch he thinks sadly.

“Now I hope you know that a 50 dollar tip means that you have to stay out here and talk to me.”

“I would’ve done it for free,” and he would’ve.

“It’s a small price to pay to watch your ass in that suit,” you say bringing your cup to your lips and smirking at him over the rim.

He almost drops the glass.

“Aren’t you married?”

You shrug, “he’s out right now parading himself with other women. He thinks he’s discreet but he’s not. If he can do it, why can’t I?”

Nate walks over to the bar to stand in front of you. He tries to think of anything witty to say at all but is at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” you say, “I never was good at holding my tongue.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so absolutely stunning,” he says with a slight shrug.

You laugh, “careful there, Nathaniel,” he assumes you read his name card on his chest, his boss doesn’t allow them to put nicknames on the card, “you’re flirting with a married woman.”

“You said yourself that he’s with other women, so what’s the harm in a little flirting.”

“What time do you end here, Nathaniel?”

“Not until 1 but I can probably get out of here sooner for you…”

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N),” he finishes, “give me a few minutes.”

He sprints to the back room and pushes open the door, startling EJ.

“Was she a dick too?” he asks.

“No, actually, she gave me a 50 dollar tip and invited me to her apartment so, uh, I’m gonna head out. You’ll be fine here right?” he says so quickly he barely understands himself.

Ej just blinks, “I’m sorry she what? Invited you to her apartment?”

“Yeah, or house, or whatever. She didn’t exactly explain what she wanted to do I just assumed she meant hooking up,” he says and realizes he might be an idiot.

Ej gives him a look, “what if she’s an axe murderer.”

“Well then I read the situation very wrong, but I don’t think I did,” he grabs his coat from the coat hook, “do me a favour though if I don’t respond to you by noon tomorrow then call the cops.”

Ej sighs, “fine but I get half your tips next time we work together cause you're leaving me alone.”

“Not half.”

“Fine a quarter.”

He really doesn’t want to do that but he really, really does not want to keep you waiting so he agrees and pulls on his coat as he leaves.

“I’m good to go,” he says as he hears Ej follow him out.

“Perfect,” you say as you down the rest of your drink and hop down from the barstool.

He follows you out of the restaurant, appreciating the way your dress hugs your body. If you turned out to be an axe murderer he was going to be so mad.

“So, uh where’s your apartment?” He asks once the chilly Denver air hits him.

“Patience, Nathaniel,” you say as you start walking, “can I call you that?”

He doesn’t usually like people calling him by his full name, but it sounds so good from you so he doesn’t mind it.

“I only ask because it’s a bit of a mouthful to scream, isn’t it?”

Nate has to take a deep breath to stop himself from pressing you up against the wall right there and then, “Nate, is good too.”

You grab his hand and lead him into your apartment building moments later. Your hand stays loosely attached to his wrist as you greet the security guard and walk into the elevator.

He’s taken by surprise when the doors close and you pull him close to press your lips to his gently. You’ve undone his jacket before he realizes it.

You take a perfectly manicured finger down his thin dress shirt. His breath catches in his throat when you pull him closer by his belt loops.

“This shirt is too tight on you, you know.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not at all,” you reply as to bring him in for another kiss.

He holds you against the wall, kissing you slowly until the elevator doors open.

When the doors open you’re greeted by a small fluffy black cat that runs into the elevator, purring as it rubs itself against your ankles.

“Hi, baby,” you coo as you pick it up and walk out, “the bedroom is the last door on the left. I need to check on her food, be naked by the time I get there.”

Nate follows your instructions and sure enough, the last door on the left is the master bedroom. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was expected but you have the biggest bed he’d ever seen. He strips out of his shirt and pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor. He lounges on the bed and, honestly, it’s so comfortable he almost falls asleep.

He hears the door open and then you’re stepping into the room and throwing yourself on his lap.

“Fuck you’re hot,” you say as you straddle his waist and lean down to kiss him, “but this is not naked.”

You snap his briefs against his skin lightly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

You hum against his skin as you trail kisses his down his neck. He lets out a small moan your teeth scrape against his neck. You slide down his body, kissing as you go. His dick is just trying to chub in his briefs when you settle yourself between his legs. He lifts his hips to help him shimmy out of them.

He’s not expecting it when you jerk him slowly, teasing him. You wrap your lips around the tip, looking at him as you suck hard. His hand comes to grip the back of your head. His hips come up to thrust down your throat but you push his hips down with your hands.

“Nuh-uh,” you say as you pull off his dick, “Be good.”

“What if I’m not?”

“Then I’ll spank you,” you wink at him before you take him back into your throat.

He can’t tell if you’re joking but the thought shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does.

He tries to even out his breathing when you push your head past the sphincter of your throat and his fingers are scratching at the back of your head. Your hands are still holding his hips, nails digging into them. He moans as your mouth gets more and more wet. He wants to buck hips but you keep him from doing so. Spit and pre-cum dribble out the side of your mouth. Your eyes water as you fuck yourself on his cock. He has to pull on your head to get you to stop before he blows his load.

“You could have cum on my face,” and Nate almost cums right then and there.

“As good as that sounds, I really want to fuck you.”

You let out a short laugh as you crawl up his body to kiss him. His hands come up to caress your body when he realizes that you’re still wearing your dress. He wants to rip it off you but it probably costs more than his rent so he asks you to take it off.

The second the straps fall from your shoulder, he’s reaching up to bite at the exposed skin of your shoulder.

“No marks,” you say while pulling on the short hair at the back of his neck.

“It looks like your cat clawed my hips,” he says as he helps pull the dress off your body.

You let out an annoyed huff, “That’s different.”

When the dress is off he flips you over, kissing the valley between your breasts. He reaches around you to unclasp your bra, unhooking it with practised ease.

“Got a lot of experience there, Nathaniel?” you tease.

He just smirks and slips his hand in between your legs, under the waistband of your thong. He finger dips between your folds and he lets out a groan when he feels how wet you are.

“All this just from blowing me?” he groans huskily in your ear, “I wonder what would happen if you sat on my face.”

You whine, “Fuck, next time, I just want you to fuck me.”

He pumps his finger in and out a few times before he lines himself with your entrance and pushes in slowly. You tap on his ass to tell him to move and he wastes no time, fucking you hard and heavy. Each thrust pushes a moan out of you.

“Nate,” you moan as he reaches up and grips the headboard for leverage. He can feel you clenching around him. He reaches down to rub circles into your clit which makes you wrap your legs around his body.

Another moan leaves your body, “Nate, Nate, Nate don’t stop.”

“Cum for me baby,” he groans in your ear. He can’t wrap his hand around your throat like he wants so he’ll settle for gripping your chin to kiss you furiously. He’s conflicted between wanting to hear your moans and wanting to keep kissing you.

Your hands claw at his neck and shoulders as you near your orgasm, dropping your head back to savour the pleasure.

“Come all over me, baby,” he grunts and that’s all you need before you come hard, jerking in his arms as your orgasm hits you. Nate can feel your juices coating his thighs and that’s what makes him lose it, fucking into as he cums. A shiver runs down your spins as you feel him spill himself into you.

It takes him a minute to catch his breath before he slips out of you and lays down beside you. You catch his chin in your hand and turn his head to so you can kiss him. He grips your hip and pulls you in by hiking your thigh over his body. The two of you make out lazily for a while before you untangle yourself from the tangle of limbs.

“Get comfy, I’ll be back in a while.”

He hears the tap running in the bathroom, but he’s asleep before you return.

~~~

He’s awoken by you ripping the covers off him.

“Get up,” you demand.

He’s still half asleep, “What? What’s going on?”

“You need to leave,” you insist as you throw his briefs and slacks at him, “my husband is early. He’s going to be in the lobby and then up the elevator and if you’re not gone in less than  2 minutes, it’s not going to end well.”

Nate scrambles to pull his pants over his thighs and doesn’t bother to do up his belt. He’s reaching for his shirt when you take his hand and lead him through the apartment - er, penthouse, whatever. You’re going so fast Nate nearly trips over the cat.

“Here,” she says opening a door at the end of the hall, “follow this hall and there’s a stairwell. When you go down two floors you can take the elevator down - or keep walking, I don't care.”

You throw the remaining clothes at him.

“Wait-” the door slams shut.

[antiquecompass]

XiCheng, 7 or 50! 💙

Or both? Both is good yes? (Though I firmly believe all of their kisses are, like no. 50, out of love at the root of them because I am major sap, especially for these two.)

7. to shut them up 50. out of love

Jiang Cheng had heard many people describe his husband over the years, praising his patience, his kindness, his willingness to accept everyone, his warm smiles, his thoughtful words. All true. All accurate. All only half-correct.

Lan Xichen had a temper, a hard one to provoke, but a fierce one nonetheless. He actually did get easily annoyed by a few specific things, though he rarely let it show unless in the privacy of his office or home. He was a master at maintaining an absolute poker face in the midst of the chaos that came with running Lan Academy, and while most took that face to be the calm, accepting, mask of kindness Xichen projected, Jiang Cheng knew better.

Few things tempted Xichen’s wrath like the Lan Academy Board. And so, while he kindly wished them all a good night, the long meeting before the end of the quarter finally over, Jiang Cheng could see the signs of his husband about to snap. The tiny furrow starting to form between his brows. His jaw starting to clench. His posture getting ever straighter and tighter as he fell back on old Lan Family Practices to make sure he didn’t just tell the entire room to get the hell out.

Xichen held that perfect mask and posture until they were in the car and just past the school gates. Then he took one deep breath, Jiang Cheng patted his clenched fist until he loosened it enough so they could hold hands, and that was the signal.

Thus started the rant.

“I’m sorry that I have a heart and a soul and a conscience and do not believe we should immediately dismiss a scholarship student because they had one bad semester. That’s what academic probation is for, because we’re dealing with kids and teenagers and they’re dealing with life, and school, and hormones. Sizhui was harassed by a kid for years and they wouldn’t let us expel him because of his father, but one local kid, a member of our community, struggles with their organic chemistry class and we’re supposed to say ‘game over.’ Oh, no, oh hell no. Not at my school. Not under my watch. If Carol Sanderson really thinks I’m going to let that motion see the light of day, she’s got another thing coming. And what the fuck was that whole nonsense about the band uniforms? No problem approving the costs for our rugby team, but because our marching band isn’t nationally recognized, we’re supposed to cut the fund that helps pay for the uniforms? How does that help maintain our school’s mission? But no, no, of course, let’s worry about replacing the marble flooring in the PTA lounge.”

Jiang Cheng smiled to himself as Xichen continued on. It was always nice to hear his influence on his husband, even if the Old Goat would be horrified to know his grown nephew used such language.

“And did you arrive in time to hear about how they want to take away the unisex bathrooms? You know, the only three that exist on the entire campus? Because of ‘safety?’ Where is their compassion? Where is their humanity?”

Xichen was starting to go from venting to actually being upset, and that meant it was Jiang Cheng’s turn to settle him down. He pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park.

“And why do they always try to take away the lunch program? It’s such a small portion of the budget. I’ll pay for it out of my own pocket. We don’t need to cut it so that, I don’t know, we can have more of those foliage sculptures done. One thing is far more important the---mmfff.”

Usually it was Xichen’s job to kiss Jiang Cheng into silence, but on nights like these it was Jiang Cheng’s turn. And he did that now, cupping the back of his husband’s neck and feeling him slowly relax as the kiss went on. Nothing but comfort, freely offered and gratefully accepted.

“Hi,” Jiang Cheng said as he pulled back. He kissed the top of Xichen’s nose. “Better?”

“Yes,” Xichen said. He kissed Jiang Cheng again, this time just for them. To say hello. To say thank you. “I love you,” he said.

It’d been over a decade since he first heard those words from Xichen’s lips, and it never got old. He kissed Xichen’s forehead and then reluctantly went back to driving. Xichen slouched, resting his head on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, and while it wasn’t the most comfortable position to drive in, he certainly wasn’t complaining. They’d be back home soon anyway.

“I still don’t like that Sanderson woman,” Xichen said.

Jiang Cheng laughed. “It’s okay, babe, you don’t have to like everyone.”

“I want her off my Board.”

“I’m sure you can call your best friends and have them dig-up something to put her in her place,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Isn’t that a horrible thing to do though?” Xichen asked.

“She’s trying to take free meals away from at-need scholarship kids. She deserves it.”

Xichen tilted his head and kissed Jiang Cheng just behind his ear. “Thank you, my love,” he said. “For listening.”

[stereostevie]

A brutal childhood, a traumatic marriage, decades of racism: the singer has overcome it all on her way to the top. She lets rip about the people who have wronged her and the self-belief that sustains her.

It is a rainy Thursday afternoon and Mariah Carey is talking to me from her home in Los Angeles, her voice coming through my laptop. Is this the real life or is this just fantasy? (Sweet, sweet fantasy …) “Hello, good morning, good afternoon, this is a little unusual,” says a gravelly voiced Carey. You’re telling me, Mariah.

We are talking by video chat, but – as specified by Carey – without the video turned on, so it is pure chat. Despite her ability to hit the high notes, Carey has always described herself as an alto. Yet even taking that into account, her voice today sounds pretty husky. Is she feeling OK?

“It’s 6am here, and I’m awake in the bright light and it’s fabulous and I love it,” she says and makes an exaggerated groan.

I’m sorry you had to get up so early for this interview, I say.

“Well, darling, then let’s not book interviews at 6am if you’re worried! But please, it’s not you,” she says, and indeed it isn’t. The time and date of our interview have moved around so many times to accommodate Carey’s ever-shifting schedule that, for a while, it looked as if it wouldn’t happen at all. But at the last minute, it was decided we would talk at 6am her time, which I was promised would be fine because Carey is a self-described “nocturnal person”, so that would be 6pm for her. Alas, for reasons too complicated to get into, for one night only, Carey was a non-nocturnal person, so now 6am is just 6am.

“Typically I would have been working [all night] until now, but we had a situation and I couldn’t. Then I tried to get some sleep, but actually I watched the interview I did with Oprah. But it’s OK, it was just one night [of no sleep] and here I am,” she says. You don’t become one of the most successful singer-songwriters of all time – she has sold more than 200m records, and only the Beatles have had more US No 1 songs – without being a trouper.

Carey, 50, has spent lockdown with her nine-year-old twins, Monroe, named for Carey’s hero, Marilyn Monroe, and Moroccan, named partly for one of her favourite rooms in one of her houses, the Moroccan room, “where so many creative and magical moments have happened, including Nick presenting me with my candy bling”. Nick is Nick Cannon, the twins’ father, and “candy bling” is Carey’s term for her engagement ring, which Cannon hid inside a sweet before proposing. Carey liked Cannon’s proposal so much that she even wrote a song about it, called Candy Bling. The marriage proved less enduring and the couple divorced in 2016.

“Honestly, I don’t miss anyone outside, so I don’t care about lockdown,” she says with a throaty laugh. “But it’s difficult for the kids, because they’re used to three-times-a-year Disney World moments and stuff like that, and that’s just not the current state of affairs.” It is not. So Carey is conducting the promotional tour for her memoir, The Meaning of Mariah Carey, from her kitchen table, and if she has her way – and who would dare to argue? – this will be the last round of interviews she ever does.

“No offence to doing interviews, but what would be the point? I can’t articulate it better than I already have [in the book]. From now on, I’m like, ‘Please refer to page 29,’ you know what I mean?” she says. Carey’s deliciously shady put-downs are legend: her “I don’t know her”, when asked almost two decades ago about Jennifer Lopez is still the internet’s most beloved diss. Speaking of Lopez, her name is notably not in Carey’s memoir. Instead, when recalling the hoo-hah that led to their fallout, when a sample Carey had planned to use on her single, Loverboy, appeared on Lopez’s I’m Real, Carey refers to her as a “female entertainer (whom I don’t know).” So is her official position still that she has never heard of Lopez?

There is a pause, then stifled laughter. “Oh my gosh, can you hear that music in the background? It’s Sam Cooke! It’s fantastic!” she giggles.

Not only has Carey not heard of Lopez, she cannot even hear questions about her, it seems.

Carey’s memoir is about a lot more than score-settling (although she makes time for that, too.) “I don’t think anyone could have known where I was coming from, because I was always very, I don’t know if it was protective, but I was cryptic about the past, let’s say,” she says. No more. The youngest child of an African American father and a white mother, Carey was three when her parents split up. Her childhood was threaded through with neglect and violence, not least from her older siblings. When she was six, she says, her older brother knocked her mother unconscious; when she was 12, her older sister allegedly drugged her and left her with creepy men.

“I think my staying up all night started from having such a dysfunctional family. Oftentimes, whoever was in the house was doing whatever it was that they were doing, and that felt kinda unsafe to me, so I started staying up,” she says. Another legacy of this time is Carey’s obsessive adoration of Christmas, because her childhood Christmases were so miserable. When she wrote the monster hit All I Want for Christmas Is You, she wanted, she says in her book, “to write a song that would make me feel like a carefree young girl at Christmas”.

As a child, her biracial identity made her feel she did not belong anywhere: she was so self-conscious about not being black enough that she wouldn’t even dance, as she associated that with black culture; meanwhile, white girls at school taunted her with the N-word. In one of Carey’s – and my – favourite chapters, she describes how her mother did not know how to look after her young daughter’s textured hair, so it was often matted. Carey would look enviously at the white women in shampoo adverts on TV with their flowing hair. “I am still obsessed with blowing hair, as evidenced by the wind machines employed in every photoshoot of me ever,” she writes.

One of the most painful moments in the book comes in 2001 when Carey is having what the press described as an emotional breakdown. (Carey writes that she did not have a breakdown, but “was broken down by the very people who were supposed to keep me whole.”) During this episode, she rages at her mother, who calls the police. The police take her mother’s side: “Even Mariah Carey couldn’t compete with a nameless white woman in distress,” Carey writes. Is that how she experienced it at the time, or is that how she feels generally, that not even she is safe if a white woman complains?

There is the briefest of pauses. “Those are my words, so please refer to page 29,” Carey says.

Race is very much the running theme in Carey’s memoir. This might come as some surprise to those who know her solely from the mega pop hits such as Hero and We Belong Together, as opposed to the more revealing songs, such as 1997’s Outside, which addressed her feelings of racial ambiguity (sample lyric: “Neither here nor there / Always somewhat out of place everywhere”). “I can’t help that I’m ambiguous-looking,” she says, “and most people would assume that it’s been to my benefit, and maybe it has in some ways. But it’s also been a lifelong quest to feel like I belong to any specific group. It shouldn’t have to be such a freaking thing – and please edit out the fact that I said ‘freaking’. I’m not very eloquent right now.” I ask if she was at all influenced during the writing of her book by the rise of Black Lives Matter. She dismisses the question: “Interestingly, this book predates everything that’s happening now, and the book just happened to be very timely.” In other words, Carey hasn’t caught up to the times, the times have caught up to Carey.

Despite her omnipresence over the past three decades, it is possible that you have not thought about her ethnicity. This, Carey says, has been part of the problem: from the start, she was marketed by “the powerful corporate entities” in a way that played down her racial identity. What made this even more complicated for her was that the most powerful corporate entity in charge of her career at the beginning was her first husband, Tommy Mottola, then the CEO of Sony Music.

Carey’s discovery by Mottola is the stuff of music industry legend. The then unknown aspiring singer gave him a tape of her music at a party in 1988. Mottola tracked her down, signed her and, a few years later, married her. She was 23 and he was 44. Within just a few pages in her memoir, she goes from wearing her mother’s busted shoes to work to living in a $30m mansion with Mottola, which she decorated with enthusiasm: “Though by no stretch do I like a rustic look, I do have a preference for tumbled marble on my kitchen floors,” she writes. Adjusting to the high life was not difficult.

The hits – I’ll Be There, Emotions, One Sweet Day – were unstoppable. The Mottola-Carey marriage did not fare as well, imploding in 1997. Carey expands at some length on her previous allusions to Mottola’s controlling tendencies, claiming he would spy on her and that she was effectively a prisoner in the house. In his 2013 memoir, Mottola admits his relationship with Carey was “absolutely wrong and inappropriate” and adds: “If it seemed like I was controlling, I apologise. Was I obsessive? Yes, but that was also a part of the reason for her success.” Carey points out that she went on to have nine hit albums without Mottola’s controlling obsession. She writes that Mottola tried to “wash the urban” off her, recoiling at Carey’s increasing leaning towards hip-hop and collaborations with African American artists such as ODB. “I believe I said ‘urban, translation black,’ just in case anyone thinks I don’t know,” Carey corrects me. Does she think that was just for commercial purposes, or was something else going on with Mottola? “In my opinion there was a lot of other stuff going on there,” she says.

It must have been pretty upsetting to revisit that period during the writing, I say.

“Yes it was traumatic, but was it harder than some of the other things I’ve gone through? Maybe yeah, actually,” she says with a rueful laugh. “I don’t know if I’ll ever fully recover from the damage of that emotional abuse. But in my school of thought, you have to be a forgiving person.”

Carey is extraordinarily honest in her memoir, but the book is almost as striking for what she does not include as what she does. A lot of attention has focused on her confirmation that she did, as long rumoured, have a fling with the former baseball star Derek Jeter (“I’m not being shady, but he had on pointy shoes,” she recalls a little shadily of their first meeting.) But there is no mention of other boyfriends, such as her former fiancé, the Australian billionaire James Packer.

“If it was a relationship that mattered, it’s in the book. If not, it didn’t occur,” she says.

But you were engaged to Packer, I say.

“We didn’t have a physical relationship, to be honest with you,” she says.

And that is that.

Carey’s singing voice made her famous, but her penchant for being thrillingly, hilariously high-maintenance played its own part in shaping her legend. On an episode of MTV Cribs, she explained that she had a chaise longue in her kitchen because “I have a rule against sitting up straight”, and she has talked about bathing only in milk. Does she think she is high-maintenance – and, if so, does she think it is because she came from nothing?

“You know what? I don’t give a shit. I fucking am high-maintenance because I deserve to be at this point. That may sound arrogant, but I hope you frame it within the context of coming from nothing. If I can’t be high-maintenance after working my ass off my entire life, oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t realise we all had to be low-maintenance. Hell, no! I was always high-maintenance, it’s just I didn’t have anyone to do the maintenance when I was growing up!” she says and cackles with delight.

By now it is almost 7am for her and she is wide awake. I tell her I enjoyed all the references in her book to her enjoying “a splash of wine”.

“Oh, do you? Do you love a splash for yourself?” she asks, pleased.

I do, but I was intrigued by her description of a night out with her friends, including Cam’Ron and Juelz Santana, when they were all “high” on “purple treats”. What were these “purple treats”?

“A legal substance in California known as mari-ju-ana. It’s called purple because that’s the particular weed they liked,” she says.

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And did she like it?

“Are you enquiring for yourself or are you asking if I enjoyed it?” she says, mock coy.

I am asking if you enjoyed it, Mariah.

“No, I hated it,” she deadpans, then laughs. “I’m sorry, but it’s obvious!”

I have been interviewing famous people for a long time, but talking with Carey is the closest I have come to how I imagine it would have been to spend time with Bette Davis or Aretha Franklin. There are lots of ridiculous modern celebrities, but Carey is not like that. With her mix of slightly self-parodic ridiculousness undercut with no-messin’, true-to-herself honesty, she is a proper grande dame of the old school. A diva, in other words. It is a term she has laboured under throughout her career, and it is unlikely she will escape it, even if people now finally know where she is coming from. Does she mind the D-word?

“No! Who the fuck cares?” she laughs. “Honestly! ‘Oh my God, they’re calling me a diva – I think I’m going to cry!’ You think in the grand scheme of things in my life that really matters to me, being called a diva? I am, bitches, that’s right!”

The Meaning of Mariah Carey (Macmillan, £20) and The Rarities (Sony Music) are out now.

• This article was amended on 5 October 2020 to clarify that it is in the United States where Mariah Carey is second only to the Beatles in terms of having the most No 1 singles.

[go4blood]

taking orders // l.h.

Where you think you hate the new waiter at your job, but do you actually?

Yo! I’ve had this idea for a while so I hope you guys enjoy! this is my first time writing smut so spare me. Feedback is appreciated as always! 

Edit: I’ve decided to make a series called 9to5!sos where they have everyday minimum wage jobs, so this is the first one :)

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: smut and strong language

Pairing: waiter!luke x reader

Tense: first person

I buttoned my ironed, white shirt to the very top and tucked it into my black pants. I looked through my drawer and found the one tie I owned and tied it around my neck. God, I was running late AGAIN. Going ten over the speed limit wouldn’t hurt, right? I quickly grabbed my apron from my chair and ran out to my car. Nothing like working the brunch shift. Waking up at an ungodly hour to try and beat traffic. Snobby, rich old people getting tipsy off of the mimosas and holding a grudge if you ever take more than 5 minutes to get them another one. My favorite shift ever, isn’t it? Yeah, right. It sucks. Everyday I regret not doing better in school and getting a scholarship to go to college and actually be productive in life. Instead, I slave away every weekend and evening after classes to pay for college.

Lucky for me, I barely beat the traffic and make it to work with 2 minutes to spare. I parked in the back with every other employee and quickly go in through the back door. I greet the people I work with today and go to the computer to clock in. After that, I go to the hostess stand while I tie my apron around my waist and see what five tables I’m in charge of until 4 o’clock. Patrons start rolling in within ten minutes and it’s time to start working.

Suddenly, my boss walked to me with a pep in her step as she usually does. Violet was a nice older woman in her late forties with kind eyes and a way with words that could make anyone smile.

“Honey, I thought I should ask you rather than surprise you, we have a new waiter I just hired. He’s a nice young man around your age, I was wondering if you could train him tomorrow evening? It’s Monday, so it won’t be busy. I would never make you train someone on a day like today.” She was rambling, as per usual, and I interrupted her as I often have to.

“Yes, I can train him. It’s no problem.” I smiled and she let out a sigh of relief. Everyone always complained about training new people, but I was always happy to. Violet gave me a chance after I graduated and was desperate to pay tuition, so it was the least I could do.

“Thank you, sweetie. Okay, I won’t keep you. Don’t be afraid to let me know if you need anything!” And with that, she walked back through the kitchen doors and to her office.

I walked to my section and waited for my customers to arrive. Not long after, two of my tables were filled and I could finally get to work. I took drink orders and made brief small talk. Most of these people were actually pretty nice and patient, thankfully. It made my shift go by a lot faster.

—

My shift ended after a grueling 6 hours with no break. I went into the kitchen and clocked out, getting ready to leave until I was told Violet wanted me in her office. I went into her office, closing the door behind me to see her along with a guy around my age.

He had blue eyes that looked like tropical ocean water you could dive into. His golden curls fell below his ears and he was insanely tall. He towered over me and Violet. And, not to mention, he was extremely broad. He wore a button up shirt that looked to be silk buttoned quite low that was tucked into his tight jeans. He was gorgeous, I had to admit. But he didn’t look friendly. His eyes stared into my soul and when he shook my hand, it was too firm. Not a good firm, a ‘let’s get this over with’ firm. But maybe looks are deceiving. I silently hoped so.

“Hey, I’m Luke, the one you’ll be training tomorrow.” His face just screamed ‘get me the hell out of here’. It was quite unsettling.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” I gave an awkward smile. God, get me the hell out of here, “See you tomorrow night!”

And with that, I got the hell out of there.

—

“Ana, you will not believe what happened today!” I loosened my tie, pulling it over my head and throwing it on my desk and unbuttoning a few of the top buttons on my shirt.

My roommate, Ana, was lying in her bed watching Netflix. She was tall with auburn hair and brown eyes. Her eyes were like daggers, but her personality was far from that. She immediately paused her show and looked at me expectantly, “Tell me more! You can’t come in here yelling with a lame story so it better be good.”

“So this new guy got hired, and he is absolutely gorgeous. He is sent from the gods. Curly golden hair, blue eyes, tall, broad, blah blah blah, but! He has the personality of a fucking door. He already seems like an arrogant asshole. And I have to train him tomorrow! God, I am not ready for it at all. My boss said he has experience, so he probably thinks he’s so great, ugh! I already hate him.” I was pacing around the room, ranting, absolutely pissed. I was so unlucky.

“Maybe it was just an off day, y/n. He can’t be that bad already! Look on the bright side for once, let loose! Watch Stranger Things with me and forget about some stupid guy.” She patted the spot next to her on her bed, and I sat next to her.

“Steve is the only man who is relevant anyways.”

—

I clocked in for my shift, looking around for Luke. I spotted him in Violet’s office, so I let myself in.

“Ready for your first day?” I tried to sound enthusiastic, but it felt impossible. He silently nodded with an unamused look on his face, following me out of the office. This is gonna suck.

I led him to the hostess stand and showed him where our section would be, “So, right after you clock in, you’re gonna need to check in with the hostesses so they can start seating your section and so you know what tables are yours.”

“Mhm.” He was so unamused. He had no emotion. God, it was unbearable.

“After you get off of training, you’ll only get 3 tables for a week or two and slowly get more…” he nodded, still unamused.

One of my tables got filled. It was a couple in their late 40s or early 50s. This could be either great or terrible.

I went to their table and put on my customer service voice, “Hello guys! Welcome to Ophelia’s. My name is Y/N and I will be your server tonight. This is Luke, my trainee. He’ll be watching me tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Can we get a bottle of Hermann J. Wiemer HJW Vineyard Riesling 2016, please? It’s our anniversary.” The husband looked at his wife lovingly, thank god, nice customers.

“Of course! Would you like some waters as well?”

“That would be great, thank you so much.” I picked up the pitcher of water nearby, filling the glasses on the table, then leaving to go to the bar.

We walked back to the bar and I stopped just outside of the entrance of it.

“So, when someone orders alcohol, you have to tell a bartender. In the case of wine, they’ll just give you the bottle and the glasses so you can pour it at their table for them.”

“Yeah, that’s how it was when I worked for my dad at his restaurant. Nothing new.” His tone was flat. He was obviously ready for his training to end but he had 4 more hours of it.

“Okay, good for you, but I still have to tell you what we do.” I snapped, then told the bartender what I needed.

After receiving the wine and the glasses we went back to the table. The customer service voice was back.

“Here is your wine,” I set the glasses on the table, then opened the bottle of wine and poured it in their glass. I screwed the cap back on, setting the bottle on the table, “Are you two ready to order? Or do you need a few minutes?”

They ordered their meals and I led Luke to one of the four computers to punch in the order.

“This is where you punch orders in. You’ll log in and press the ‘take orders’ button. It’s touch screen. Type it in and specify anything that needs left out or added in. But I’m sure you’ve done this before, right?” My tone was cold. I was absolutely pissed at him. I quickly punched in the order and pressed submit.

“You know, it’s not my fault I could run circles around you doing the same job even though you’ve had it longer. It’s in my genes, sweetheart.”

I couldn’t even begin to think of what to say. I silently walked to my other tables with him following behind, having to pretend I wasn’t filled with rage.

—

“Ana! He somehow got fucking worse!” I pulled off my uniform and changed into sweats and a t shirt, absolutely fuming.

“What did he do now?”

“He’s so arrogant! He kept disregarding everything I taught him, saying he already knew everything! He’s such a dick! I hate him!” I jumped face first into my twin size bed, groaning into my pillow, “why are all the hot ones shitty people?”

Ana sighed, squeezing beside me on the bed, “I wish I knew. But you know what you need to do now, right?”

“What?” At this point, I was desperate for answers.

“Make way better tips than him, give way better service, show him he’ll never be better than you! Make him come to his senses. You’re the baddest bitch I know. Act like it!”

I sighed, rolling onto my back, “I’m gonna be better than him. I am better than him.”

“Damn right you are! Let’s get drunk!”

—

A week had passed since Luke decided to ruin my life and start working at Ophelia’s. He was finished with training so he had his own tables now. It was my time to prove that he will never be better than me.

I checked on my tables frequently, making sure drinks stayed filled at all times. I constantly checked to see how far along the food was in the kitchen. I was on top of everything.

It happened to be Thursday, and my regular customers who always request me were there. I went over to their table to have conversation since I finally had a minute to breathe.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Fendel! How has retirement been treating you guys?”

Mrs. Fendel let out a sigh of admiration, “Oh it’s just lovely, I finally have peace. It’s really nice. How have you been honey?”

“Oh I’ve been okay, you know, college stuff.”

“What was your major again, love?”

“Forensic psychology, my dad did that, so I wanted to follow in his footsteps.” I smiled, clicking my pen subconsciously.

Mrs. Fendel looked over to the other side of the restaurant, “Who is that young man? I’ve never seen him before… the one with the blond hair?”

I knew exactly who she was talking about without even looking, “That’s Luke. He’s new.” I had a tone of disinterest in my voice. There was no way for me to show the slightest bit of interest in him.

“Well isn’t he a handsome young man?” She gave me the ‘why don’t you try getting on that’ look that old women give when they try match making. A look I knew all too well. But there was no way in hell that I would ever be caught dead trying to get with Luke. He was an asshole who only thought about himself. He was self centered and arrogant; I hate him.

“He’s just… not the nicest guy in the world. I’m gonna go check on your food, and I’ll be right back.” I forced a smile and walked away. God, it felt impossible to like Luke in any way, shape, or form. My thoughts were interrupted by a very late “on your left” and a tray of drinks being spilled all over me and glasses hitting the floor and breaking. My white shirt was covered in red wine and champagne. I looked to see who was the one who bumped into me with the tray, and to my luck, it was Luke fucking Hemmings.

“Are you kidding me!? You said you were coming out of the doors at the very last second!”

“Maybe watch where you’re going rather than counting on me to warn you! It’s common sense! But you wouldn’t know, would you?” He was picking up the shards of glass and staring daggers into my soul.

I didn’t even know what to say. I was unbelievably pissed off. I quickly walked into the kitchen, far away from him. What the fuck was his problem? Why did he feel the need to be a fucking dick constantly? I sighed heavily and walked straight to the bathroom, not even bothering to lend a helping hand to Luke. Once I was in the restroom I made sure I was alone before I slid down the wall inside the stall and started crying. ‘ I have to get revenge,’ I thought evilly to myself. Maybe Ana would know just what to do. Or maybe I could just kill him with kindness.

—

“Y/N, just ignore him! He isn’t worth your time and effort.”

“I wanna get revenge for his shitty attitude, Ana! He deserves a taste of his own medicine…”

She sighed, looking me dead in the eyes, “I have a few ideas.”

“Lay then on me. I’m open to anything.”

She hummed, closing the bottle of nail polish she was using and putting it on the floor, “Well, you could just be overly nice to him.”

“I want to scheme though.”

She sighed, “Okay fine… I have a great idea. You guys punch in orders electronically, right?” I nodded, eager to hear the rest of what she had to say, “You could delete the orders he puts in so the kitchen doesn’t get them, and then his customers will be mad at him for taking forever to get the food out. Little does he know, his order didn’t even make it to the kitchen. He’ll get in trouble, and he won’t be on his high horse saying he’s the best.”

Ana was a genius. I slowly smiled, I had my plan. This had to work. “You’re a fucking genius.”

“What can I say? I somehow got into college, so there’s gotta be a little bit of smarts somewhere in this brain of mine.”

“How do I make sure he doesn’t find out I’m the one doing it?”

She let out a chuckle, “Don’t get caught. Better get ready, your shifts in an hour and a half.”

—

I checked in at the hostess stand so my tables could get seated. It was Friday, so it was a little busier than usual. But not terribly. So it was the perfect day to sabotage Luke, if I went through with it. But my tables were first priority. Two of my tables got filled, so I quickly got their drink orders and had small talk. But as soon as I got the drinks to their tables I realized I accidentally gave the woman unsweetened tea instead of sweet, and as soon as she tasted it she had to give it back. I quickly went back into the kitchen, where I saw Luke’s stupid face.

“Can’t read the clear labels that say sweetened and unsweetened, sweetheart?” He had a sarcastic undertone with each word he spoke to me and had a stupid grin on his face. Asshole.

“Fuck off, asshole.”

“Well you’re sassy, aren’t you, princess?”

After this shitty encounter, I thought it was a good time to start sabotaging him. He walked out of the kitchen to take entree orders for a table of 4. He flashed a charismatic smile to everyone and walked away when he finished. Ugh, that stupid smile of his. Everyone just thinks he’s amazing, I hate it. He put in his order on the computer, walking in back to most likely get more drinks for one of his other tables. I quickly ran to the computer he just used and went to the ‘processing orders’ option. Lucky for me, Violet trusted me enough and gave me the login that gives me access to everything. I cancelled the order he just put in and logged out as soon as I finished. I wasn’t going to do this for every single order obviously, but enough to where Violet would notice and have to talk to him.

I went back to my table and took their orders as if nothing happened, like I normally would.

About twenty minutes passed pretty quickly, and I was going to the kitchen to see how far along the meals I put in were.

“What do you mean you didn’t get the order I put in? I put it in twenty minutes ago! It makes no sense. Fuck, now I have to somehow explain this. It was two pesto chicken pastas and two clam chowders. I need it as soon as possible, I’m sorry, it’s my fault I should’ve checked earlier.” Luke was visibly stressed out of his mind as he walked back to the table.

This would teach him. I only planned on doing it one more time, just to teach him a lesson. I walked back to my table with the water pitcher, filling the empty glasses as I eavesdropped on Luke’s conversation with his table.

“I’m so sorry for the wait, but our computer system glitched a-and your order got deleted so it’s just now getting started but I promise I’ll get it to you as soon as possible, um would you guys like an appetizer? For free, of course, on me.”

He was so stressed out, he desperately needed to be liked. He couldn’t stand the idea of anyone complaining about him. He thought he had to be perfect at all times, and it was refreshing to see him make a mistake.

The customers were very obviously frustrated, but took up his offer on the appetizer. When Luke walked away, worry was all over his face. He was stressed out of his mind. Maybe this would teach him a lesson.

I walked around my section, asking if everyone was doing alright and refilled drinks. A customer ordered a salad, so I had to go to the kitchen to make it for them. As I went to the salad station, I saw Violet talking to Luke in the corner.

“You cannot mess up this bad, Luke. It doesn’t make us look good at all. I know you just started, but with experience on your belt, I expected more from you. It happening to one table is an accident, but twice? You had to just not use the computer right.”

Luke was extremely upset, and he wouldn’t let her walk away without his side of the story, “I swear I pressed submit each time! Violet, I really need this job. This is the only thing I’m good at, I swear it won’t happen again. Just give me another chance, I’m so sorry.” He was desperate to keep this job. He was practically begging on his knees, proving he learned his lesson.

Violet let out a heavy sigh, “I’m not gonna fire you, Luke. But I have to write you up… I know you can be better. Prove it.” And with that, she walked away from him. I finally did it, I gave him the lesson he deserved.

“Y/N! Honey, I have a favor.” Violet’s distinct voice rang through the kitchen.

I turned around, the bowl of salad I just made on a tray in my hands, “What is it?”

“I need you to close with Luke tonight and tomorrow. After what he did, I think you need to teach him the right way to do things again.”

God damn it. I have to be alone with him. Fuck, shit. And I can’t say no either, “Yes, of course, no problem.”

Son of a bitch. Karma for getting revenge, I suppose.

—

“I don’t fucking get why she had to pick you to close with me.” Luke was fuming as he held trash bags in each of his hands.

I quickly ran up behind him and pulled the back of his shirt to make him turn and look at me, “I could say the fucking same about you, Luke! Listen, I get that you fucked up, but you could maybe stop blaming others for your mistakes!”

“Oh, cry me a fucking river! You just hate that I’m better than you! You can’t stand it!”

I could feel the tears coming, but I tried so hard to hold it in, “You’re a dick!”

“You’re a jealous bitch!”

“Fuck you, Luke!” The tears started streaming down my face, and there was no stopping them. I quickly walked away from him to the bathroom, locking the door and letting it all out. Why was I letting him get to me? I let out loud sobs that had no sign of stopping. He was right— I am jealous. I don’t want to be replaced because of him being better than me.

He knocked on the bathroom door, “Y/N? Please come out, I-I just want to talk. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings… if you want to come out, I’ll be at a table rolling silverware… I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it.” I heard his footsteps fade away, and I was contemplating leaving the bathroom. It was hard to decide. Eventually, I had to leave the bathroom, so I got up and left to go join him at a table.

I saw him in a booth across the restaurant and sat across from him. I started to roll the silverware silently, keeping my eyes glued downwards at the task at hand. Sometimes, I would look up at him, but then he would look at me so I’d quickly look away.

This continued for ten minutes, and it was extremely awkward.

He finally decided to break the silence, “So, um, Violet said you’ve worked here a year?”

You were surprised he was the one to start a conversation, but you decided you should be civil and talk back, despite the fact that he just made you bawl your eyes out in the bathroom, “Yeah, um, I was desperate to pay for college so she took me in. I’m practically her daughter at this point. So... she said you have experience already?”

“Yeah, my dad owned a restaurant, it was the family business. It was my great grandpa’s, then my grandpa’s, then my dad’s, and I was supposed to be next… but we went out of business. I worked there as soon as I turned 15. I was so excited to inherit it, but that’s not gonna happen now, so. It is what it is.”

I frowned, he had a lot more to him than I initially thought, “I’m sorry about that…”

“It’s whatever, I guess everything happens for a reason,” his tone was cold. He was extremely upset about this. When he would look at me, it was like he actually had sincerity in his heart, “I’m sorry for being arrogant and acting like I know everything. I’m just… still angry. I got cocky whenever my dad told me I would be getting the business once he retired. But then shortly after, business wasn’t booming anymore and he had to close the restaurant. I’m basically full of angst and take my anger out on others. It’s a bad trait.”

I instantly regretted what I did. It was wrong of him to be arrogant, but he was just angry at the world. He wasn’t just angry at me, “Luke, it’s okay to be angry. I would be, too.”

“You’re not too bad of a waitress, I guess you may be a little better than me,” He grinned, cracking the joke to lighten the mood, “I’m sorry for making you cry… I wish I could undo that. Let me buy you dinner? There’s this diner a few miles away open 24 hours.”

“Okay, sure. Let’s get dinner.” I smiled, and for the first time, I think he smiled back with sincerity.

—

Surprisingly, dinner went really well last night. Luke wasn’t as bad as he initially seemed to be. He was actually really funny, and pretty nice once you get past his built up angst. My phone lit up with a text message.

‘I had a really good time last night. See you at work tomorrow morning :)’

I smiled to myself, quickly replying and sitting my phone down.

“What are you smiling about?” Ana smirked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Oh… just, Luke isn’t as bad as I thought, actually. He’s kind of cool.”

“Is that so? He isn’t actually an arrogant asshole?”

I shook my head, “No, actually; he’s full of angst, though. But he’ll get better eventually. We work the same shift again tonight.”

“Don’t let him be mean to you again!”

“He won’t!”

—

It was extremely busy at the restaurant. I messed up drink orders more often than usual, and I brought the wrong food to the wrong table more than once. I was stressed out of my mind. I walked into the kitchen and made 3 drinks quickly; the kitchen was a complete madhouse. I put the drinks on my tray and turned around to see Luke, but it was too late to stop, causing the drinks fall to the floor.

He sighed impatiently, a look of annoyance painted all over his face, “Y/N, today is not the fucking day to mess-“ He saw me wince when he started to yell, and he stopped himself, bending down to pick up the cups and lowering his tone, “Hey, it’s okay, tonight is rough. Just take a deep breath. I’m sorry.”

“Luke! You’re not helping, please just give me a break!” I quickly remade the drinks and walked away, feeling like I was about to cry my eyes out. This shift would never end. There was only an hour left, but it felt like an eternity. The tips tonight weren’t as good due to the several mistakes, which didn’t surprise me. Everything was going wrong. I served my last table their meals and went to the now calm kitchen to take a breather.

—

Once everyone left, it was time to close the restaurant. The only people left were Luke and myself. I was silently sweeping the floor when I heard his voice from behind me.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you today, I was just stressed out.”

“Luke you just don’t get it. I’m not good at this job; you’re so much better than me. I don’t wanna lose my job, but I’m scared that soon enough I will. I need this job to pay for college, but I don’t even deserve it!”

“Y/N! You deserve it way more than me! What do you even mean you don’t?”

“You know, when you first got hired, I claimed that I was better than you. But in reality, I just didn’t want anyone to be better than me because I can’t lose this. After today, Violet was so disappointed in me! I just don’t know what to-“

I was cut off by him grabbing a fist full of my shirt and crashing his lips onto mine. At first, I didn’t move. He pulled away, looking me in the eyes, “Relax, babe. You’re not gonna lose your job. You’re way better than I’ll ever be at this job. You’re amazing, and I never hated you. I was just cocky and stupid, and I’m sorry.”

I kissed him, tangling one hand in his hair. He held my waist, pulling away to take me to the empty bathroom. He pulled his tie off, then started to unbutton my shirt, pausing to ask if it was okay. I nodded eagerly, also unbuttoning his shirt and taking his tie off.

“Needy much, darling?” He smirked, priding himself on his cocky attitude.

I blushed, nodding quickly, “I guess you could say that.” His knee found its way between my legs and I bucked my hips forward in an attempt to create friction.

He chuckled darkly, “I’m sure once I give you the real thing you won’t need to put in this much effort, love.”

I clenched my teeth, speaking between my teeth, “Then do it, love.”

“My pleasure.” He lifted me onto the sink, pulling my pants down and pulling a condom out of his pocket. He slowly pushed into me, trying to give me time to adjust to his size.

I winced and gripped a handful of his hair, hoping to God  I’d eventually adjust. With my other hand, I gripped onto his shoulder, pushing my head back and breathing heavily, “A-ah Luke-“

“Doing alright, darling?” He kissed up my neck, leaving small marks here and there. His voice was filled with lust, “You’re doing so good, baby, taking my cock so good, aren’t you?”

I moaned in response, hoping he wouldn’t stop praising me. I can’t lie- it turned me on. He picked up his pace, gripping my hip and biting his lip in concentration.

“Luke, I’m so close, faster!” He went faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Come on princess, hold out just a little longer for me. Can you do that for me? Can you be a good girl for me?”

I nodded quickly, eager for release. His hand made its way to my clit, and I gasped at the sudden pleasure, “I’m gonna cum, Luke!”

“Me too, fuck.” I gripped his hair in my fist even tighter, and my orgasm tore through me.

Luke was close behind, “God, you did so good, baby.” His movements slowed down, and he was catching his breath. He slowly pulled out of me and slipped off the condom, disposing it.

I looked at him, in a daze, “So, uh, what now?”

He hummed, “Well, I guess we should finish our closing work. And then I can take you to dinner if you’re up for it?”

I chuckled, “It’s the least you could do for fucking me before our first date.” I kissed him softly, smiling at him. Maybe he wasn’t just some angst filled waiter after all.

—

I woke up the next morning to a text from Luke.

‘I had a great time last night, can we get coffee like, as soon as you wake up?’

I smiled, answering immediately, ‘see you there in 30 minutes.’

I quickly got dressed and left to my car. I drove to the coffee shop and parked my car in a pretty close parking spot. I went inside and ordered an iced latte, dropping an extra dollar in the tip jar. I sat at the table, waiting for him to arrive.

He arrived shortly after, ordering an americano and sitting across from me.

“So, last night was… really good. I enjoyed it a lot.” He smiled at me, putting his hand on top of mine.

“I did too. I really did. You’re a better guy than I thought, Luke.”

“Do you want to, maybe, be a thing?”

I chuckled, “You mean date?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Oh I don’t know Luke… you’re kind of the worst.” I smirked and he rolled his eyes, leaning over the table and kissing me sweetly.

“But you love it.”

—

Taglist

@blahehblah

@i-calumhood

@angelbabylu

[saradamnnnn]

Headcanon: “Sasuke Uchiha Jealous? No way.”

A/N: Wherein dinner between friends end up with a game of Truth or Dare, aided by a bottle of Sake.

—

Sakura let out a sigh of relief as she finally reached her office. Three surgeries within the day, plus hospital rounds! She was beat.

She reported for hospital duty at 5 AM and now, if the sky were any indication, she guessed it would be sundown soon.

As she closed her door, she realized there was someone in her office. She recognized him right away.

“Anata,” she said softly. Just seeing him made her feel a whole lot better. Sasuke stood up to greet her, it took no more than three strides for him to get to her.

Almost instinctually, Sakura wrapped her arms around his torso. With his one hand, Sasuke returns his wife’s embrace, pulling her close to his chest.

“When did you arrive? It’s a shame, you just missed Sarada, she was assigned on a mission.”

“Ah. I heard. I’ll still be here when she gets back,” Sasuke said, leading his wife to the couch she had in her office.

He had noticed how depleted of energy she was the moment she entered the office. He knew his wife would just give him an earful if he told her to stop working too hard, so he did the next best thing: subtly get her to rest.

“Oh? How long can you stay?” Sakura asked. She was leaning on his shoulder as she drew circles on the palm of his hand.

“4 days. 5 at most,” he said. He leaned his head on hers. She smelled like strawberries and isopropyl alcohol, a smell Sasuke has come to love because well, it was Sakura.

They sat there in silence, just being with each other was enough. They felt at ease, content.

“Sakura, the dobe told me something about a dinner tonight,” Sasuke said. His wife was about to drift into sleep but he didn’t want her to skip her meals, tired as she was.

Sakura’s eyes suddenly popped open and she jumped in panic. “WAIT— isn’t the dinner on the 13th?”

“It is the 13th today,” Sasuke said, his eyebrows furrowed.

“No, that can’t be? I’m certain today still has to be the 12th,” Sakura goes over to her table, which was cluttered with paperwork.

She still had to tackle a tower’s worth. She grabbed the file, the most recent, on top and read the date on it.

13th.

“Shannaro...!” Sakura exclaimed weakly. She thought it was an extra long day at the hospital, turns out she’d been here for two days.

Sakura plopped back onto the couch, not even bothering to prop herself up properly. She felt disoriented.

“Sakura, don’t tell me you’ve been here for days and didn’t even know it,” Sasuke said in an icy voice.

Sakura gulped and scratched her head sheepishly. “Want me to make you your favorite tomato soup later?” Sakura said with a grin, attempting to deflect her husband’s reprimanding glare.

Sasuke shook his head at his wife’s attempt. “You’re annoying,” he said, but a small smile escapes.

Sakura couldn’t help but giggle. “Shall we, Anata?” Sakura said, standing up and holding her hand out.

Sasuke takes her hand. “Ah.”

—

“No.” Sasuke was watching his wife make bad decisions.

Sakura groaned in annoyance. She and Sasuke stopped over at the supermarket to buy something for the dinner, which was going to be at Sai and Ino’s home.

Sakura thought it would be a good idea to bring sake.

“Aw, c’mon, Anata. I bet the rest already bought meat and whatever else for the potluck. We’ll need drinks.”

“Last time there was Sake, you and Naruto took turns puking on me,” Sasuke said with no fondness of the memory.

“That Baka Naruto thought he could beat me in a drinking contest! I had to fight for my honor, Anata!” Sakura said, but slightly blushing because she didn’t realize Sasuke remembered — but of course he did.

Naruto thought it would be a good idea to have a Team 7 reunion. It ended up with Kakashi bailing when Naruto was puking into a water fountain and Sakura passed out on the ground, on the small crater she accidentally made when she tried to save herself mid-fall. Sasuke was left to babysit the usuratonkachi and his darling, drunk wife — who told him “I can hold a drink, I’m not weak!”

“No.” Sasuke said with finality. Sakura pouted but Sasuke didn’t let her have her way. When her back was turned, Sasuke let out a little smile.

They ended up buying meat.

—

Sasuke and Sakura got to their home around 6:40 PM, the dinner was not for another 50 minutes or so; they still had time to bathe and get changed. Sakura showered first.

Sasuke thought his wife would be ready by the time he got out of the shower but when he does, he’s greeted by the sight of his wife, sitting on the foot of their bed, snoring.

She was clutching onto two dresses, still on their hangers: the first was white with cherry print, and the second a plain navy blue.

Sasuke couldn’t help but snort. His wife always insisted that “I don’t snore, Sasuke-kun. Shut up!” Sasuke used to have a hard time sleeping because of her snoring but now he’s quite fond of it, it made him feel easy, it was a way to know she was there. He still teased her for it though.

“Sakura,” Sasuke gently prodded, poking her forehead. Sakura opened her eyes slowly and immediately turned red in the face.

“Why are you so close!” She jumped back in shock. Sasuke’s face was only an inch away from hers. She knew it was so stupid for her to shy away from her husband but she still very much had a crush on him.

Sasuke rolled his eyes, quite amused. He gently pats her head and says, “navy blue,” as he walks out of their bedroom.

“Shannaro! You’re so annoying!” Sakura throws her shower slipper at his retreating back. Sasuke smiles to himself. Sakura was so fun to tease.

Sakura was left in their room, her face heating up to what seemed to be a thousand degrees.

—

Sakura walks out their bedroom and Sasuke’s eyes are immediately drawn to her. The dress fell gracefully on her curves, the dress stopping just a little above her knees. She was also wearing the necklace Sasuke got her; a dainty little thing, an Uchiha fan pendant.

His wife looked gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Sasuke looked away, feeling a little embarrassed that he was staring a little too intently.

Sakura couldn’t help contain her smile. Her husband looked so handsome in his black button down. He could make such simple clothing look magnificent. She went over to him and gently combed her fingers through his hair to fix it. It was sticking out a little, reminding her of his porcupine hairstyle back in the day. Her heart swelled with nostalgia.

“Ready now?” She asked. “I wasn’t the one snoring,” Sasuke said with a smirk. Sakura’s smile turned into a pokerface. She knew it wasn’t something Sasuke would lie about be she swears, she doesn’t snore!

While Sakura went over the checklist in her head, Sasuke was already by their doorway, wearing his footwear.

“All appliances turned off, stove is turned off, all faucets closed properly, the meat, house keys, wait where are the house keys?” She thought out loud.

She went back into the bedroom and found them on their dresser. This is when Sasuke noticed something about her dress. His eyes widened a fraction. He didn’t realize the dress had been backless.

“Got them!” Sakura exclaimed, ready to go. “What about your coat?” Sasuke asked. He felt himself grow a little overprotective and this annoyed him. But outwardly, he looked like his normal expressionless face.

“It’s a short travel. It’s fine,” Sakura said, not noticing what Sasuke actually meant.

“Ah,” was all Sasuke could say. It was logical, he pushed his overbearing thoughts aside. He did choose the dress after all.

—

The walk to Ino and Sai’s, even if it was only 20 minutes away, felt long to Sasuke. They had taken a shortcut, through the town square. So naturally, there were lots of people.

A lot of them recognized the pair, Sakura would greet them back and Sasuke would just nod in recognition. Sakura noticed the slight shift in her husband’s mood — she guessed it was because he wasn’t a fan of crowded place. She didn’t think much of it.

Sasuke noticed men were gawking at his wife. Sakura, enveloped in conversation, didn’t notice this.

Sasuke didn’t know if these men were openly doing it or they were just doing a poor job at hiding it.

Suffice to say, this put Sasuke in an off-putting mood. Sasuke moved from walking beside his wife to walking in front of her. Without realizing it, Sasuke had begun glaring at the men, who immediately avertered their sights in fear of the Uchiha patriarch.

Sakura noticed that Sasuke was walking ahead of her now. He always did walk too damn fast for her, much to her annoyance. He was 6 foot 2 and she was a mere 5 foot 4. Sakura took this as Sasuke getting impatient with their pace.

“Anata,” she whined in a small voice, he caught this. One look at her and Sasuke knew. She’s always complained about him walking too fast, “little legs here!” It was one of their squabbles back when they were traveling together.

Sasuke wordlessly went back to his place, by her side. What was the point of backless clothing anyway? It serves no purpose. Stupid, he complained in his head.

—

“Sakura-chan! Sasuke!” Naruto drawled as he watched his two best friends enter the house.

Naruto went in to hug them but only Sakura returned it, Sasuke stepped out of the hug in his lightning speed fashion. Sakura couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hi, Hinata! How’s Hima?” Hinata had brought Himawari to Sakura a few days ago because she had a fever.

Sasuke took the available seat which was next to Naruto, who already began to talk his ear off. Sasuke sighed.

“She’s doing better now. I think Naruto and Boruto annoyed her into feeling better!” Hinata chuckles.

“Forehead! I haven’t seen you in forever. I thought you wouldn’t ever leave your hospital cave!” Ino went in for a hug, with Sai tailing behind her.

“Wow, you don’t look ugly today, ugly,” Sai says, this earns him a punch from Sakura.

Sasuke used to be displeased whenever Sai called Sakura ugly. But he’s come to realize it was just banter between two friends now. If he didn’t know about Sakura and Sai’s friendship dynamic, Sasuke would have been livid over anyone disrespecting his wife.

“Sasuke-kun! When did you get back?” Ino asked in excitement. It was always a treat to have Sasuke over at one of their gatherings since it was quite rare.

“Hey, what about me!” Naruto complained, pointing at himself. Ino waved him off.

“Nevermind you, I’m so sick of your face!” Everyone, except Sasuke who just gave an amused smirk, at the table bursts into laughter. Because he was Hokage, Naruto’s face was everywhere.

Temari and Shikamaru enter the home.

“Sorry, we’re late. Some people are such a drag,” Temari says sarcastically. Giving her husband a dirty look.

Shikamaru smiles sheepishly. He got carried away with a game of Shogi with Shikadai. Mendokusē, he thinks. “Hi, everyone,” he greets.

(They began catching up and chattering about. This is when Kiba arrives with Shino.)

“We got the goods!” Kiba yells, raising up a case-full of bottles of sake.

“I tried my best to stop this. My apologies,” Shino says.

Naruto, Sakura, Temari, and Ino clap animatedly. The rest, not that excited for what was to come.

—

They still had a bit of food left, which no one was surprised of. Choji couldn’t come so they were bound to have extra food.

“I apologize, I have to head out first. I have an early class to teach tomorrow,” Shino said.

“Stay for a little while, Shino! We rarely get together like this,” Naruto said, but also aware he had a ton of work to do at the Hokage’s office.

Shikamaru chuckles because he’s just read Naruto’s mind. There was more paper in Naruto’s office than actual furniture. The adult life was really something.

“Honestly, when it’s past 9, I already get sleepy,” Shino shyly admitted.

“Oh boy, we’re getting old,” Temari says, amused. She could relate.

“Not me! I’m still so youthful!” Naruto exclaimed, still the only one chowing down on the food. Hinata stared at him adoringly, Sasuke and Sakura shook their head. He was still such a messy eater.

“Can’t believe this idiot is the Hokage,” Sakura and Sasuke thought in unison, they look at each other as if to see if they were thinking the same, and one look from each other and they knew. Sakura giggles and Sasuke hides his smile as he drinks water from his cup. Ino notices this exchange.

“You guys are so cute!” Ino expresses in glee. Sakura blushes and Sasuke pretends not to hear.

“Don’t leave, Shino! I’ll be outnumbered by the couples!”

Shino looked at Kiba blankly. “You already are. They came in pairs, you are single. Akamaru doesn’t count.”

“Hey!”

“That’s because you don’t get sleep, Naruto,” Shikamaru chimes in.

“That’s because I don’t need it. Sleep is for the weak ‘ttebayo!” Naruto shouts with pride. He flings his chopsticks in the air as he does this, this causes grains of rice to fly.

“Naruto-kun!” Hinata scolds, Naruto realizes the mess he’s made and sheepishly apologizes. “Sorry, dear! Hehe.”

“Why are you apologizing to her? I’m the one who’s gonna have to clean up,” Sai deadpanned. This earns a collective laughter.

“You’ve trained him well, Ino!” Temari howled in laughter.

“Hey, I help around the house, too,” Shikamaru piped in. Temari rolled her eyes at her husband playfully.

“What can I say? He’s helpful and cute,” Ino said, patting Sai on the cheek affectionately. This makes Sai smile.

The rest of them made puking noises. “Should we leave?” Kiba asked jokingly.

—

“Let’s play a game!” Kiba says, hauling the case of sake onto the table.

The lot of them beamed in excitement, except Hinata, Sasuke, and Shikamaru.

Temari rolls her sleeves up her elbows and Shikamaru visibly gulps. “Mendokusē. I already foresee the disaster,” Shikamaru said, scratching his head. Sasuke and Hinata shared Shikamaru’s sentiments. They didn’t need their kekkei genkai to see this was indeed going to be disastrous.

“Let’s get this party started dattebayo!” Naruto claps excitedly. He produced shadow clones to help set the dishes aside.

“If you puke on the floors, I will personally use you as a mop to clean it up,” Sai told Naruto with a smile. Ino bursts into laughter, she knew well enough that Sai was serious — they just had their floors done and Sai was borderline obsessed with keeping them spotless.

“Me? Puke? As if. I can take my drink, unlike some people,” Naruto said the last bit in a whisper.

“Excuse me, what was that?” Sakura piped in, feeling her competitive side pique.

“Don’t provoke her, idiot,” Sasuke said. He still remembered the shock he felt when he found out Sakura accidentally reduced their home into rubble.

“You’re so biased, Sasuke!” Naruto exclaimed, childishly.

“It’s just facts, Naruto-kun. I can take a drink better than you,” Sakura said with a confident smile.

“It’s true. Women can take alcohol better,” Ino piped in and the rest of the kunoichi agreed.

“Ohoy! Is that a challenge?” Naruto exclaimed. “That’s just not concrete fact,” Shikamaru added.

“So I suppose we have to see. You ladies vs us men?” Sai said

“Let’s go!” Naruto cheered.

“This’ll be easy,” Sakura said, cracking her knuckles. She went over to the other side of the table, along with Hinata. They switched places with Shikamaru and Sai.

Naruto noticed Sasuke didn’t show any indication that he was up for the game — which by all honesty, wasn’t out of character.

“Hey, Sasuke. C’mon!” Sasuke looked at him and shrugged, “my wife’s not weak.”

Sure, Sakura could get into such a drunken state but Sasuke knew she was much tolerant to alcohol than Naruto.

Sasuke’s comment earned hollers from the men and gushing from the women, Sakura looked down at the table, blushing at her husband’s compliment.

“So whipped -ttebayo!”

(28 bottles of sake later...)

Only Sasuke, Shikamaru, and Hinata were sober. Sakura was walking the fine line of being drunk & being tipsy. The rest were outright drunk.

Naruto found his way over to Hinata, plopping himself beside her. He then began poking her cheek. “Hinata-chaaaan,” he drawled.

“What?” She asked her clearly drunk husband. “Hi!” At first Hinata found it cute, but at the 11th time he did it, she smacked him off the bench they were sitting on.

Shino and Kiba somehow thought it would be a good idea to play Tag. They ran to the Yamanakas’ backyard with loud chuckles. The both of them couldn’t agree on who would be ‘it’. In the end, they decided they’d let there shadows chase them. It made no sense but in a drunken thinkinf, it was the best idea ever.

Sai decided to play some music on “Karaoke!” He yelled, he was now standing on top of the table. Sai, Ino, and Temari began singing their lungs out and swaying to the music.

“You sound so good!” Temari told Ino, who then replied, “You do, too!” the kunoichis then high fived.

But in reality: Temari was out of tune and Ino was out of sync. Sai, dancing on the table didn’t match the song’s rhythm one bit.

Sakura was the only one who was still drinking. She chugged two whole bottles all by herself and then some. She was currently finishing up the 29th bottle they had.

“Shannaro! How can you guys be such weakshits!” She giggled, raising the bottle in the air like it was a trophy. Sasuke decided it was nearly her drinking limit — if her pink cheeks were any indication.

Swiftly and quietly as he could, he took the last bottle of sake and hid it. At this point, he’s moved seats and is now sitting next to his wife.

He was holding her head up because it would lull back and forth, ever so slightly, every now and then. Her exhaustion plus alcohol intake taking its toll.

“A-anata. Where’s the last bottle? I’m going to win this!” Sakura hiccuped, now resting her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“It’s gone,” Sasuke said, he technically wasn’t lying. Sasuke was a little relieved that Sakura still had some of bearings, she was still aware of her surroundings.

“Oy! You kids come back here,” Shikamaru yelled at Shino and Kiba. Who to his surprise, listened, he guessed following orders was basically a reflex action for ninjas.

The rest of the drunk people followed suit. When Kiba reached the table, he eyed the bottle that was in Sakura’s hand, thinking it still had some contents in it.

“Awww,” Kiba whined when he realized Sakura had emptied it.

Sakura sees Kiba’s sad expression. “Don’f be sad!” She stands up, and gets dizzy by the suddeness. Both Sasuke and Kiba hold her to keep her from falling. Sasuke gets a tad annoyed. He can take care of his own wife.

“Don’t be sad! C’mon let’s dance!” Sakura told Kiba. Sakura was naturally compassionate person and it heightened whenever she had alcohol in her. She could see a dog in the rain and she’d cry for a straight hour.

Sakura takes hold of Kiba’s hand and they join Sai. Kiba forgets about the sake and gets lost in the frenzy of the music.

Sasuke notices all of this, his annoyance growing. He watched as Kiba and Sai put their arms around Sakura as the three of them jumped in glee to the music.

He was pleased that Sakura was enjoying himself but Kiba and Sai could enjoy themselves, at least a feet away from Sakura, too, he thought to himself.

“You lot settle down, come back to the table,” Hinata said gently, the three of them obediently followed.

When Sakura came back to sit next to him, he tugs at her hand from under the table, inconspicuosly pulling her closer to him.

“Truth or dare! We have empty bottles to spin now!” Kiba exclaimed, taking one from the pile that’s accumulated from the floor.

“Yes, twenty-nine to be exact,” Shino said, counting the bottles, swaying at his step.

“Sasuke-kun! See? Missing one!” Sakura whined.

“Shh, that’s enough,” Sasuke whispered in her ear. Sakura pouted and rested her head back on her husband’s shoulder.

Kiba spun the bottle and it landed on Temari.

“Okay, Truth or da-“

“Dare!” Temari slams the table and stands up as she yells this.

“I dare you to tell us the most embarrassing memory you have with Shikamaru!” Kiba chuckles

“Oy!” Shikamaru complained, his wife was incredibly blunt when intoxicated. He tugs at her sleeve to get her to sit back down. She ends up sitting on his lap, she was too drunk to feel embarrassed about it.

“This idiot brought me to a hotel for what I thought was our first date! I thought he was some kinda pimp! Turns out he was asking me to help choose a gift for your wedding!” Temari says with a laugh, pointing at Naruto and Hinata.

Naruto was half passed out cold, resting his head on Hinata’s shoulder, his mouth wide open, drooling. Hinata laughs, mainly because Shikamaru has turned three shades of red.

“Mendokusē,” he groans. “Pimp!” Temari teases him.

Temari spins the bottle with such force that it teeters off the table. Shino retrieves another bottle. “Good thing we have a lot of spare.”

This time the bottle lands on Sakura. “Dare!” She says with energy but her heavy eyes say otherwise

“Was there a time you got horribly jealous?” Ino asked, her arm around Sai, who was still animatedly dancing in his seat.

Sakura chuckles and hides her face in Sasuke’s shoulder.

He smells so nice, Sakura thought. Sasuke didn’t show it but he wanted to hear her answer.

“Well, when we were traveling, there was this inn keeper who openly flirted with Sasuke,” Sakura said, wearing a bitter smile on her lips.

Sasuke didn’t recall any inn keeper. He looks down at his wife with raised eyebrows.

“She asked you out for dinner while I was right beside you, Sasuke-kun!” Sakura exclaimed.

“You can be so dense sometimes, Anata. Good thing you’re so cute,” Sakura giggles, pinching Sasuke’s cheeks.

“Woah!” The group was so shocked at the scene before them.

Sasuke Uchiha, one of the deadliest ninjas in the world was just called... cute and had his cheeks pinched... and he let it happen.

Even Naruto sobered up a little due to shock.

Sasuke was paralyzed, his face heating up. To make matters worse, Sakura gives him a smack right on the lips.

“Cutie Sasuke-kuuuuun!” Drunk Sakura drawled. Very unaware of the fact that her husband’s turned into the very shade of a tomato.

“I really am drunk, did that actually happen dattebayo?” Naruto asked, looking around if anything he was seeing was actually real.

Luckily for Sasuke, Kiba pukes at that moment — diverting the attention.

“NO!” Sai leaps to his feet.

From there, the dinner took an official close. “Don’t worry, they’re all too drunk to remember this,” Shikamaru told Sasuke who was looking at his smiling albeit drunk wife with a facepalm.

Hinata made a zipping motion across her lips, indicating, what happened would be kept secret. Sasuke nodded in thanks.

“What about you, Sasuke-kun? Do you ever get jealous?” Ino asks, face on the table, clearly dizzy.

Before Sasuke could formulate an answer, Sakura beats him to it. “Sasuke Uchiha jealous? No way!”

Sasuke scoffs.

List of my SasuSakuSara headcanons 

[renywrites]

I’ve been watching a lot of Mad Men because Jon Hamm and I cant stop thinking of like a sixties AU with Gabe and Beez, or just switching out broody Don Draper for Gabriel so could I suggest a domestic 60s set Ineffable Bureaucracy thing?

I decided to do 1968 because of the Apollo 7 mission (I think Bee is just a huge space nerd) and also because I have no idea what Mad Men is (thank you for giving me a new show to watch though, holy shit!! Jon Hamm is a gift). I tried very hard to do this in a 60s setting but it may come off more as 50s themed- I pulled some familiar stuff I know from The Help and read up on some careers before I hopped into this. Bee’s name is Beatrice in this because reasons.

*

Gabriel loved his life. He had a good job working as a Creative Director in a big advertising company, made enough money to be comfortable, got the weekends off to do whatever he pleased, and had a lovely wife to go home to. 

Wife. The concept was still foreign, still made him shiver and smile and feel mushy as could be. Bee would tell him to shove a sock in it, if she were here.

He and Beatrice Romanov had gotten married only a month ago, but only because she had insisted she was going to finish her college degree before he was allowed to strap her down. Gabriel would have liked to have married her the minute he had seen her under those trees in the college courtyard, but she had put her foot down. 

It took a lot more to court her than just a charming smile and a compliment, he had learned very quickly. In fact, the first time he’d done that, he’d ended up with a milkshake in his lap. 

“I’m not a cheap whore,” the soon-to-be love of his life had snapped, her dark eyes blazing with hellfire. “Don’t treat me like one.”

Gabriel had never been spoken to like that by a girl — or anyone — before. At first he was offended, so he made it his duty to try and outdo her in each of the classes they had together. Unfortunately for him, he’d found his match. She was whip smart, mean as a junkyard dog, and took shit from absolutely nobody. Many men had walked away with tattered dignity and a broken nose after attempting to tame this wildfire of a girl. 

He quickly found that instead of wanting to defeat her, Gabriel wanted to impress her. He wanted her to give him that sharp little smile she got when she won. He wanted to hear that laugh, wicked and graceless, that she would let loose on occasion when she was around her friends. He wanted those dark eyes to be on him, always. He wanted.

That wanting turned into a game of cat and mouse very quickly, both of them doing things that had society frowning and the other taunting them to continue. Heated looks across classrooms. Stolen kisses against the bookshelves of the library. His hand on her thigh, her back pressed to the cold stone wall of her dorm building. 

One night, Gabriel took the bait, and had his world shattered by his name broken on her lips, her body bare against his, those eyes looking up at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. 

Gabriel woke up the next morning with his vessel of hellfire next to him in bed, her inky black hair spilling over his pillow and tickling his nose. The sunlight streaming in the window made her skin look like porcelain, her body ethereal and too perfect to belong in even Heaven. The frustration and pent up tension that remained in him quickly gave way to something that melted his insides, took his breath, and made him pull her closer and press a kiss to her hair.

Three years later, he knelt in front of her with a small velvet box and watched those beautiful dark eyes glisten with tears and love and the promise of a future.

And now he got to go home to his future every single night.

“Leaving already?” Comes a teasing call as Gabriel packs his things up for the weekend.

He looks up, then gives his co-worker a polite smile. “Ah, Sandalphon. Yes, it’s my night for the dishes and Bee wants to watch the Apollo 7 launch with me.”

“You’re whipped, you know.” Comes the predictable laugh, accompanied by others in the office who were bad at pretending to not listen in on conversations. “That wife of yours has you on a leash.”

Gabriel shakes his head, unable to help his smile. “What can I say? I like a girl who takes charge. Evening, gentlemen.”

He leaves with wolf whistling and whoops following him out, but his mind is focused on calculating how much more time it would be until he got to go home to his wife. If he stopped at the supermarket and bought her favorite bottle of wine and some flowers, it would only add another fifteen minutes…

*

“You’re late!” Comes the call when he closes the door. He winces — he had been trying to be quiet so he could surprise her. Nothing got past Bee. 

“Sorry, my love.” He calls, slipping his shoes off and treading carefully into the kitchen. 

The sight that greets him is one he’d come home to for the rest of his life, but one that would always make his heart swell and his knees weak. 

His wife was standing at the stove, stirring what smelled like spaghetti sauce, a red gingham apron tied around her neck and waist. Her hair was pulled back from her face, piled messily on her head and stuck through with a knitting needle (his mother had gotten them for her, trying to insist she needed to be more ladylike. Bee wore them in her hair out of spite. Besides, they did well in a pinch).

“Hello,” Gabriel walks over, pausing to kiss her cheek before fetching a vase to put the flowers in. “I brought you something.”

Bee glances up, surprise flickering in dark eyes, before she smiles. “Sap. Put the wine on ice, we can have it with dinner. It’ll be ready in a little bit.”

“It smells good, Bee.” He does as he’s told, then pulls up a chair at the table to sit and talk with her while she finishes dinner.

His wife blows a stray hair from her face, her brows creasing. “Your mother sent the recipe to me. No, she showed up to my work to give it to me. Spent twenty minutes going on and on and on about how a good housewife always makes her husband’s favorite things…” Bee makes an irritated noise. 

“At work?” Gabriel sits up, frowning. “I’ll talk to her…”

“No need,” she says, with that grin she used to give him just before she dragged him behind a building at school and kissed him senseless. “I took care of it.”

“Bee,” he says, a rush of fondness and exasperation rolling over him. And maybe a bit of dread. “What did you do?”

“Oh, she’ll call you about it later.” She waves a hand, her smile growing. 

Gabriel didn’t even have it in him to be upset — his mother was insufferable about everything Bee did. About how she dressed, how she behaved, how she treated Gabriel. When Bee’d refused to marry her son in a church, that was when Gabriel accepted that he was going to be stuck in the middle of an eternal feud.

But watching his wife move around their kitchen and complain about her day, he found he couldn’t mind. It was amusing to see his wife come up with petty ways to get back at the people who annoyed her. It was definitely a good reminder that she would put up with none of his shit, not ever. 

“Are we watching the launch during dinner?” Gabriel asks when she turns the stove top off. 

She brightens. “Yes! And the newest Star Trek comes out tonight, too. You don’t mind if we watch both?”

Gabriel gives her a fond look, getting up to get them both some wine. “Not at all. Whatever makes you happy, darling.”

Bee grins, blocking his way and leaning up on her tiptoes for a kiss, her fingers snagging and wrinkling his work shirt. He bends to meet her, his hand resting against the curve of her spine and tugging her closer against him as their lips meet.

The chase had been well worth it, Gabriel reflects, as his wife hooks a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him down farther to her mercy with a wicked smile. He wouldn’t trade any of this for anything.

[nightofnyx8]

Robstar Day 3: Lost

Alright, this isn’t as fluffy as I would have liked it to be, but it was still enjoyable to write! Plus I believe I needed a bit of a happier oneshot after yesterday. Enjoy!

_____________________________________________________

It’ll be fun, she said.

The things Dick Grayson did for his alien wife. Of course, he was all for the idea of going to Disneyland for a family vacation, but Kory neglected taking a plane and opted for driving the entire way.

“But that’ll take forever!” He protested when she proposed the idea.

“Nonsense.” Kory said, packing their clothes into a large suitcase. “Garfield said this “family road trip” is a most delightful experience.”

“I really don’t think we should be using Garfield as reliable source material.”

“Oh, come on.” she bantered. “It could help us create memories with the children.”

“Kory, we’ve never been a road trip this long. Trust me, we’ll kill each other before we even get there.”

But her heart was set on it, always the one for “new experiences” as she called it. And after all her constant pleads and head-reeling kisses, he finally agreed to it.

And now they were driving along I-50, somewhere in Arizona. The heat sweltered through the open windows, making Dick sleepy and very uncomfortable.

“Daddy, I’m bored.” Mar’i complained from the back seat.

“I know, Starshine.” He called back. “We’ll be at the hotel in just a few hours.”

She slunk back into her seat, playing with her dolls without much enthusiasm. Jake slept soundlessly beside her.

“I believe we will be turning right soon.” Kory mused, searching the giant road map she had bought at the last gas station.

“No, we stay on this road until we hit the border of California. Dick countered. “Why did you even buy a map? We just follow the signs until we get there.”

His question went unanswered and Kory creased her brow. “Are you sure? The map says we take this exit in a mile.”

“Yes Kory, I’m sure. We don’t need a map.”

“Daddy, are we there yet?” Mar’i called out, now trying to wake her sleeping brother.

“No Mar’i, not yet. And leave your brother alone.”

The AC was blasting on high, but the car still felt like the inside of a volcano. Mar’i had stolen his phone a while ago and was now listening to the only downloaded episode of her favorite cartoon for the tenth time. They had been stuck in the car for two days straight, and Dick felt his nerves itching with irritation. How much longer?

“Richard, I really do think we should turn—”

“You want me to go right? Fine, we’ll go right!”

He swerved across three lanes of traffic and exited off the freeway, speeding into some forsaken town of tumbleweeds.

“Not that one!” Kory scolded. “You turned much too early!”

“Well maybe if you just let the driver drive—”

“Daddy, are we there yet?

“No, Mar’i.”

“We have to get back onto the highway.” Kory said frantically.  

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Dick exclaimed, not particularly focused on the turns he was making.

“Perhaps I should drive.”

“No.”

“We are clearly not going the right direction!”

“Yes we—Mar’i, if you ask me that question more time, you’re riding on the roof until we get there!”

Dick’s attention was now far from where he was going, and after half an hour the family finally stopped arguing long enough to notice that they were well beyond the highway. They were driving along some lonely country road, miles upon miles of nothing stretched out on either side.

“Uh, where are we?” Dick mused, trying to retrace all the turns he had made in his mind.

“I shall check the map.” She decided, but Dick snatched it away from her.

“Are you kidding? That’s what got us into this mess in the first place!”

She crossed her arms in annoyance. “Then perhaps we stop and ask for directions.”

“From who?” He demanded. “Oh wait, I think I see a giant station of nothing ahead.”

Kory scowled. “Then let us at least stop for a moment. I need to feed Jake.” She motioned to their son, who was now screaming in the backseat.

“Fine.”

They stopped along the edge of the road. Mar’i jumped out of the car straightaway and hovered slightly over the rows of cacti, laughing gleefully as she tried to chase the tiny wrens. Dick sighed and leaned against the outside of the car. He looked over the horizon, the sunlight fading fast into twilight.

He had absolutely no idea where they were.

Fantastic.

A little while later Kory came up next to him with a sleeping Jake in her arms. She leaned against the car as well and rested her head against his shoulder.

“We are lost, yes?” she asked with a small smirk.

Dick let out faint smile. “Completely.”

Kory shifted Jake onto her hip. “Is our GPS working?”

“Not without a signal.”

“What about your phone?”

“Mar’i drained it watching her show.” 

Kory giggled softly, surprising Dick.

"What's so funny?"

"All of this.” She replied. “It recalls memories of when we were stranded on that awful planet, trying to find our friends.”

“You mean when you completely ignored me because I said you weren’t my girlfriend? And my only response was ‘I like the way you shoot starbolts?’”

She laughed. “Yes, I suppose I was a little displeased with you then.”

“Look, Star.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I snapped at you back on the road. I was just frustrated, I guess. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “You were tired, Richard, as are we all. I think it best to stop and rest for the night.”

“What, here?”

“Yes! We have sleeping bags and a small tent in the trunk in case of emergencies.”

“We do?”

“Of course.” She replied, holding his gaze. “You taught me to always be prepared.”

She placed Jake in her husband’s arms. “You can set up here. I shall fly over to see where the main road is so we can start again tomorrow morning.”

 The fire they lit was reduced to only smoldering embers by the time Mar’i finally got into her sleeping bag. After five rounds of tag and hide and seek, she quickly fell asleep and snored softly besides her father.

“Poor thing, she’s exhausted.” Dick stated, stroking her hair.

“Yes, but rather content.” Kory bundled Jake up with all the blankets they had so he wouldn’t get cold. “I must say, I did not expect a camping trip on our journey.”

Dick laughed and allowed her slip under the blankets next to him, her warmth radiating against the cold.

“You know, this whole thing kind of reminds me of my days in the circus.”

“It does?” Kory propped herself up on her elbow to face him. “How so?”

“Oh you know, we used to drive for days when we traveled from city to city. My parents would argue too, and my Dad used to make me pay a nickel every time I asked where we were. I got so bored that I think I actually did ride on top of the roof once. But you know, looking back on it now, those really were good memories.”

Kory smiled, resting her head on his chest like a pillow. “And now we can make new ones. Lost in the middle of nowhere.”

Dick kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer. “We all know that I would be completely lost without you.” Kory hummed in response, both drifting off to sleep. 

“But seriously, next time can we just take a plane?”

[vinylexams]

INTERVIEW with Brian Cook of SUMAC, Russian Circles, Botch, These Arms are Snakes, and Roy 

Brian Cook of the MANY gnarly bands listed above took time to answer a bunch of questions that had been burning a hole in my mind for years earlier today. Did you know that aside from playing bass in some of the heaviest bands currently in existence, Brian is also an avid record collector and he also runs a very similar page where he posts all of his records and writes up a bit of history and personal context with each one? A man after my own heart! I’ve dropped a link to his Tumblr below and you’d be a fool not to go check it out and follow his work there.

https://bubblesandgutz.tumblr.com⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I really appreciated having a chance to talk to a very talented musician who also places a LOT of importance on physical medium and the recording process. All too often I get submissions from bands who either don’t know the in’s and out’s of the vinyl format or they took a lot of shortcuts and deprive their art a chance to really shine in the ways that vinyl allows. I picked Brian’s brain about his approach to creation of physical musical media as well as his history as a collector (and even tried to convince him to get These Arms are Snakes play my big gay wedding reception!). Thanks for taking the time to tell your story to us, Brian!

You've been a member of several incredible bands over the past few decades (Botch, Sumac, Russian Circles, These Arms Are Snakes), all of which have released pretty much everything they've recorded on vinyl. How important is the vinyl medium for you as a musician and creator?

Thanks for the kind words. It's really important to me for my music to have some sort of physical format. I realize that mode of thinking might seem sort of old school or outdated, but i've always been enamored by music as a kind of historical artifact. When I was younger, that meant it was important for me to have an actual Dead Kennedys cassette as opposed to a dubbed version from my friend. It was like the difference between owning a painting versus owning a xerox of a painting. When I became a musician, it was a sign of validation. By having a record with my name on it, I had created something that would potentially outlive me. And now in the digital age we've convinced ourselves that everything lives forever on the internet, but it's not true. Myspace just lost all their music. I've written for a lot of online music outlets that have closed shop or simply deleted old posts. Meanwhile, I have a trunk full of old zines that outlived the supposed permanence of blogs. So while the digital age is great for convenience and scope, creating a physical recording is really the more reliable way to make sure something exists for more than five to ten years, or however long it takes for the newest technological fad to become obsolete. Vinyl seems to be the longest lasting format, so it's my preferred medium. But if my music exists on tape or CD, that's fine too. 

Do you approach your recording and production processes with specific formats like vinyl in mind? If so, what do you do differently? Absolutely. The main concern is that we're dealing with the time constraints of vinyl. For bands like Russian Circles and SUMAC who have really long songs, it means we have to be careful how we sequence our records because we can easily exceed the 22-minutes-per-side rule. We've also been told by pressing plants that it's better to have long drones in the middle of an album side than at the beginning or end because there tends to be more surface noise at the beginning of a side and more warble at the end, and drones don't do much to mask these imperfections. But while one can complain about the limitations of vinyl, there are also issues with digital formats that can alter the way an album is put together. For example, the digital version of Empros has a longer drone at the end of "Batu" than the LP version, partially because of vinyl's limitations, but also because digital outlets like iTunes don't recognize records with long songs as full albums unless at least one track is longer than ten minutes. So we stretched it out on the digital version so that we'd be compensated appropriately for our work, but condensed it on vinyl so that we didn't compromise the sound quality.

Of all of the albums you've contributed to, which one stands out to you as the one you feel most connected to?

Probably Geneva by Russian Circles, if I had to pick one. We wrote that record over the span of several months at a house in rural Wisconsin. It was one of those ideal scenarios I'd always dreamed of---hunkering down in some isolated retreat and just immersing ourselves in the writing process. I've never walked away from an album feeling as accomplished as I did with that one. It just felt like we'd achieved something that had previously been out of my level of expertise. I think we've made better records since then, but I don't think I've ever felt as successful in making the sounds in my head translate to the recording. With regards to my other bands, I feel that way about Botch's We Are The Romans, These Arms Are Snakes' Easter, Roy's Killed John Train, and SUMAC's What One Becomes. But Geneva will always hold a special place.

How did you get into vinyl collecting and how does it play a part in your life?

I started buying vinyl around '92 because it was cheap. My first LP was Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet's Savvy Show Stoppers. I bought it for $2. Then I discovered 7"s, which was the dominant format for hardcore and punk bands at the time. Throughout high school, I mainly bought 7"s because i could buy 3 or 4 a week on my allowance. And let's be honest... most hardcore bands in the '90s had better 7"s than full albums. But vinyl was so dead at the time that you could also go to thrift stores and scoop up the entire Creedence Clearwater Revival discography for the cost of one CD. Even new vinyl was cheaper than their CD counterpart back then. So it's a bit of a drag now considering that vinyl is currently the most expensive format, but I still get a thrill from going to record stores, digging through crates, and coming home with a new LP. I can't say I buy that many 7"s anymore though.

What do you think about the relatively recent resurgence of large-scale vinyl production and collection?

It certainly has its advantages and disadvantages. I buy a lot of reissues just so I can have a clean, good-sounding copy, so I appreciate the resurgence in that regard. At the same time, the vinyl boom has made used record shopping a bit more of a drag. I don't know how many copies of Neil Young's Harvest I saw in used bins throughout the '90s and '00s, and then when I finally decided to buy a copy five years ago, it seemed like they'd all been snagged and the reissue was going for $50. When the Zeppelin discography got reissued a few years back, I mentioned wanting a new copy of Physical Graffiti to my husband. He went to our local indie record store in Brooklyn and asked the owner if they carried it and he totally balked at the question. "Why would we carry a reissue when you can buy a used copy of that in any record store for $5?" he said. My husband was like "every used Zeppelin record you carry is beat to shit and goes for at least $20... what the fuck are you even talking about?"

If you had to pare down your entire collection to no more than three albums, which would you keep?

What's the broader context? Like, are those the only three records I can listen to for the rest of my life? Or is it just a matter of only being allowed to own three records? If it's the former, I'd probably choose Bob Dylan's Blood on the Tracks, Miles Davis' In a Silent Way, and a Can album... either Ege Bamyasi or Soon Over Babaluma. Ask me tomorrow and I'd probably list off a different three. If it's the latter... like, if i'm merely holding onto records because the actual artifact means a lot to me but I can still listen to music in some other capacity, then I'd probably go with the His Hero Is Gone / Union of Uranus split LP, Undertow's At Both Ends, and Sticks & Stones Theme Songs For Nothing, just because those seem like a pain in the ass to replace and they're important records to me. I have records that are worth way more money, but I'm not someone who buys records because they're valuable. 

Do you have a "white whale" record you still haven't found?

Not really. For ages I resisted the urge to buy used records online, but I've since relented. The record that finally broke my ordering embargo was Hack's The Rotten World Around Us. They were a band from Adelaide, South Australia in the late '80/ early '90s who sounded like a grungier version of the first couple Swans records. Super heavy and scary. I got turned onto them through a 7" on Alternative Tentacles, but the LP was never available stateside. The first few times I toured Australia i went to every record store I could find in hopes of finding a copy. No one had ever heard of Hack. The singer was in another band called Grong Grong, and members of that band had gone on to be in King Snake Roost, Lubricated Goat, and Tumor Circus (with Jello Biafra on vocals), but no one had heard of them either. In my mind there was this rich underground of Australian noise rock from that time period that was still vital and valid, but the reality is that it was largely ignored and forgotten. I eventually found a copy online and bought it for $20. A year later i found a used copy in Boise. Oh well. I'd love to find Acme's To Reduce The Choir..., or an original copy of Popol Vuh's second album, or the Neu! 7", or the Greenlandic prog band Sume's Sumut album.

Hypothetically how much money would I need to raise to get These Arms Are Snakes to reunite to play my wedding reception? My family will hate it but my partner and I will be very happy, etc.

We still talk about doing some proper "farewell shows" since we bailed on doing them back in 2009/2010. Granted, now they'd be reunion shows, but in our hearts they'd be our proper goodbye. We're putting together a vinyl release of various odds and ends for next year, so maybe that'll give us an excuse to finally book something.

[retail-truestory]

True Story.

The other night I got called into work last minute. I spent the better part of my shift watching self scan; no surprise. I had just come back from my break so my coworker who was watching went to take her break; she'd come back and take over after while I finished the throwbacks. For the most part it was an easy enough shift, surprisingly. Until this lady and her husband showed up. She was trying to pay with food stamps and the pin pad rejected her card. That's nothing new; our self scan machines are well over 10 years old so sometimes it takes a few tries for it to read the magnetic strip. So I went over and did the old plastic bag trick. Worked like a charm. And everything seemed to be going fine... Until completing the payment came up. It asked her if she wanted to process the balance remaining, which was about 50 cents. Now I usually don't see this end at the pin pad because when it comes to paying with food stamps the customer does everything on the pin pad; I just wait for them to finish. So despite having done this for over 5 years I still don't know every step the pin pad gives for this form of payment. As a result when the lady says, "Oh so I just owe you guys 50 cents" I'm thinking, what? It says 'process remaining 50 cents'. So her wording doesn't sound right. But of course, The Customer's Always Right™ so I said "let's click Yes and find out." Because clicking No would have canceled the transaction and we'd be back at square one. The payment went through for exactly 50 cents. At first the lady was just confused, asking why that happened. Because she claimed she had at least $100 on her card that refilled last week. She asked if I could check the balance on her card, or if she could go to customer service. I told her that I couldn't log onto my register (as my coworker never signed out of it) but she seemed fine going to customer service. Fastforward almost 10 minutes later. I was still at self scan. Her husband was with their wagon of stuff, which he'd packed as she was scanning earlier, and fiddling on his phone. I happened to make a joke as I passed by him, "And to think I was gonna stay home tonight. Its never a night unless something happens here." And he was totally fine with my joking; he even encouraged me to look at it that way to lighten the mood. If only his wife could've been that way. Wife returned with my supervisor. Lady was going on and on complaining about how her card DEFINITELY had $100 on it, that it should've processed most of her order, that she shouldn't have even been able to pack everything if the machine was just going to reject her card, that she NEVER has this problem at other stores, ETC. Basically at that point, it was mostly about her card but it also became about EVERYTHING. My supervisor attempted to explain to her multiple times that it's how our store is. The machines don't know. This isn't even a machine problem, it's a card problem. "But it JUST refilled last week. I called about it this morning. It's THERE. I want my damn 50 cents back then." And she and my supervisor proceeded to go back and forth for at least the next 5 minutes. My coworker returned in the middle of it, having no idea what was going on. But it was easy enough for her to catch on because every other sentence out of this lady's mouth was the same. "I'm telling you, it has $100 on it." "It JUST refilled last week." "I want my 50 cents back." "Your machines shouldn't have even let me pack everything if it knew there was going to be a problem." "I never have this issue anywhere else." "This is all your fault." It eventually got to the point where my supervisor just snapped back at her. I don't even remember what she said anymore. But supervisor wasn't having any of it because she knew that no matter what she said or did, this customer wasn't going to be happy at all. So whatever she said, she let the lady have it. (Meanwhile her husband's still standing back with the wagon of crap just staying out of everything.) When my supervisor asked me to cancel the transaction I told her my self scan card doesn't have that capability. It's basically a function for employees who are either have experience watching the front end or have been theren 10+ years. Fortunately my coworker's card was able to do that. And it took her a few tries to get the machine to comply and refund. And even as she was trying to do her thing, this lady was STILL not shutting up and going on complaining about our store. She ended up leaving everything behind because without her card she could only cover a portion of her purchase. But after that she didn't even want the stuff she could pay for. She just stormed out. And I had to spend the rest of my shift putting the crap back on the shelves. I learned later when I came back to the front to clock out the reason there was a problem with the food stamps in the first place. Back in January, up until February 1, we had signs posted on every register, at self scan, customer service, and by the entrences that because of the government shut down customers' balance for February food stamps would come in January and they could only access it on X date. So the food stamps wouldn't refresh in February like they normally do. So basically, even though the lady swore up and down for the better part of 20 minutes that her stamps JUST refreshed the week before, in February, they couldn't have because of the shut down. Could my supervisor have told that to the lady when she had the chance? Absolutely. Would it have made a difference? HELL NO! And my supervisor knew that. She's been in this job for decades; she, as well as my self scan coworker, are fully aware of and able to recognize that there are some customers that no matter what you tell them they will find a way to complain about it and blame us. I have never been so happy to have that supervisor help take care of everything because if that customer lost it at me, I would not have been able to handle it. I am so fortunate that, at least as far as the night shift usually goes, I have coworkers and a supervisor who are willing to help out and that I think I have an overall great work relationship with. The customer environment is toxic to say the least, but it's these coworkers that make it tolerable on some level. So while this advice may vary depending on the relationship between coworkers I do think it's the best piece of advice I can share from this experience: Call over your supervisor. If you're near a coworker who's been at the store longer than you, ask if they know anything. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it, especially when dealing with a customer like that. And I say this is the best piece of advice I can give because, sadly, the most logical help I can share is something that we know will never happen no matter what. But I'll still share that piece of wisdom just for the hell of it: Customers - STOP BEING SUCH DICKS TO RETAIL EMPLOYEES.

[hellsbells91]

Avengers: Endgame, a day later

What an absolute ride. My brain hurts though. It’s a lot to unpack and this post/review/scrutinisation turned into a bit of a mini-essay.

Spoilers are all below the cut and they are detailed spoilers for the whole film, just to warn everyone:

An emotional rollercoaster that despite us knowing that time travel would be involved still had its moments that kept me guessing as to what could happen, or how it could happen. I still felt the joy and intrigue during the ‘time-heist’ and a moment of piercing dread when Thanos picked up the fully-loaded infinity gauntlet for the second time. 

I also loved how Endgame took the time to be immensely fun. Of course it had bleak moments, depressing moments, angry moments, but damn did it make me laugh. Korg, Frigga, OG Hulk, Loki... their presence, however short-lived or ultimately unfulfilling, was like a soothing balm for the soul and reminded us why we fell in love with these guys the first time around. How much charisma and charm can Tom Hiddleston fit into about a minute of screen time of Loki, also without speaking for most of it? A lot. He is on form as always and I’m glad for it.

Infinity War was of a much darker tone, I feel, and I very much enjoy the parts of Endgame that made me feel like we were in the original Avengers again (I mean aside from the actual time travel portions), recapturing some of that joy and excitement and most importantly hope that was a constant comforting presence in the first title.

The emotional beats with Clint and his family, Scott and Cassie and Tony and Morgan (and Howard) also in particular gave the film much needed time to breathe after Infinity War’s ‘GO GO GO crank everything to 11!’ pace, and were for me at least among the most heartfelt moments. 

I actually don’t have too much to say about Thor and Bruce, honestly. They were entertaining, I liked them, it was a bit of a shame we didn’t get more of Hulk and that Thor was made to be the butt of a joke for most of the film, but they both got pretty satisfying conclusions at least. I hope Thor shaves and gets a haircut though, I’m not digging the Volstagg look on him.

One sticking point for me was that Thor doesn’t even say Loki’s name once, not even to joke about him in the past or even glance at him in his cell on Asgard and this did slightly annoy me throughout the film, but I’m not overly torn up about it. Maybe they didn’t want to overdo the fact that in most of his films, Thor is grieving for Loki one way or another - we get it, he misses his brother. In the overall very long list of ways in which Loki’s character has gotten shafted in the MCU, this is one of the lesser things. 

At least Thor got to say goodbye to Frigga this time, and I couldn’t help but also be lifted (just as Thor was) by her words, As I mentioned before, this was one of those times during the film that I got to be filled with hope.

The supporting cast were also great, and I’m kinda happy that they didn’t give Captain Marvel a bigger role, along with a decent excuse for her not being there most of the time. I was worried that being a new character with an upcoming franchise, she would be made to outshine the others in Endgame and they didn’t do that. Keeping most of the focus on the original six made Endgame more of a satisfying conclusion to their stories, with just hints of what will happen now for everyone else. Point to Marvel. 

Onto fatalities:

So let’s start with the big one, Tony Stark. Iron Man was the first MCU film I watched and he’s been my favourite character (aside Loki) throughout the series. The world is a slightly duller place without him, but whilst it was undeniably upsetting and many tears were shed in the cinema and now while I’m writing this, it didn’t have the sour taste that Loki’s demise left me with. 

Because if you’re going to have to go, you might as well save the entire universe in the process.

As we passed over all the characters standing at Tony’s funeral, I was sad, but not enraged. I was struck with this sense of ‘none of them would be here without Tony’ and it left me feeling just bittersweet about the whole thing. And after a few minutes when Happy asks Morgan if she’s okay and she says she is, I know that the characters, and myself, and everyone else will be too. 

Of course we will be. 

What a wonderful, hopeful ending.

I was pretty satisfied with Natasha’s end also, to be honest. I didn’t always love her presence in past films, but I can appreciate that her story in the MCU has been all about trying to do what she thinks is right, even if it sometimes means going against allies. Her sacrifice is an act of love, and hope. It’s not done out of guilt, she’s not trying to make up for past mistakes, it’s not framed as punishment - she’s just doing what she can to ensure that everyone else, especially Clint, has the chance to carry on - just like Tony does. So, like Tony, I’m more bittersweet about it than angry. 

Loki on the other hand died brutally and needlessly - that whole opening scene in Infinity War caused so much controversy on how odd, cryptic, out of character and poorly edited it was that a lot of people straight up assumed that there just had to be more going on, there’s no way such accomplished filmmakers could be so sloppy! But like the other inconsistencies in Infinity War, Endgame offers no answers other than yep, the filmmakers really are that sloppy. 

So with the major deaths out of the way, onto some bad stuff. This film is excellent to watch don’t get me wrong, just don’t start thinking about the time travel implications for more than 5 minutes. Because whilst the film takes the time to establish its own (confusing) set of rules for time travel, it then proceeds to play pretty fast and loose with those same rules. 

Yes I’m going to complain about the timey-wimey stuff. 

It’s a shame that the film that takes such care in adding in so many references to the past films, would take such liberties in other areas. I joked with my friend that i’d need a diagram to work it out so that it makes sense, and that has not changed so if anyone here can explain it, please let me know because I’m not a scientist, time travel or sci-fi expert and I can’t wrap my head around it.

By the logic that Gamora is alive in the 2023 present and her death has been effectively erased, so must Loki’s, Heimdal’s and the other Asgardians’ deaths be erased. Gamora cannot simultaneously be sacrificed for the soul stone but not exist in the timeline that led her there. Despite the film telling us the past can’t be changed, it seems that past versions of characters can change their own future, but then also have that alternate future have no bearing on the original timeline.

Using that logic Natasha and Tony could simply be brought in from an earlier time. No one ever need die again because they can just be brought forward from the past without consequence to the current timeline. Maybe this will come up in the future again, maybe we’ll learn that taking people out of their timelines has severe personal consequences as they start to remember multiple lives and states of being, a bit like Nebula, which would then give a solid enough reason as to why people shouldn’t just be brought back and could inform the plot of Gamora’s new existence in GOTG3, along with Loki’s TV series next year. 

It still wouldn’t explain how Steve manages to pull this off without any consequences to himself and the fact that he lives in parallel to another Steve Rogers, but it would be something I guess? Even so, by going back to what appears to be the 40s/50s and staying there, Steve has also changed Peggy’s timeline (that’s one of those rules broken), and it would be a bit too dark for Marvel to link up Peggy’s eventual alzheimer’s with the fact that she has effectively led two separate lives, one with Steve and one with her husband and children - unless they’re gonna tell us that Peggy left her husband to be with Steve?? And are you telling me that Steve would sit back and not tell Peggy about HYDRA? Or help to free Bucky sooner? 

Also Steve must have re-infected Jane with the Aether. Nice one Steve. And this putting the stones back where they came from would have also meant having to avoid the time-heist troupe, lest they see Steve again and figure out they must have won.

Idk I’m thinking about this too much.

The Thanos who is killed at the end of Endgame (... ha) is the Thanos from 2014. He leaves his original timeline and doesn’t return (unlike the Infinity stones) so how is any of what he did between 2014 and 2018 possible? Is the film trying to tell me that Thanos can jump from 2014 to 2023 and be killed but somehow also exist up until he is killed by Thor one month after the snap in 2018?

The film tells us the past can’t be changed when clearly it can. Or is it that the past can be changed but it won’t affect the present? 

BUT HOW? 

Have multiple timelines been created or not? It’s suggested that by returning the stones, the new timeline that was created by removing them in the first place would no longer exist, reverting everything back to how it was. In Loki’s case, as much as it pains me to say it, as soon as Tony and Steve go back to 1970 for the Tesseract, the alternate timeline Loki made by taking it in 2012 would be essentially overwritten, reverting everything back to how it was before.

There’s a whole lot of maybe’s and what if’s circling around and I hate padding this post with ‘lol idk what’s going on’ but I went into Endgame expecting some answers but ended up just getting more questions.

Apparently the upcoming TV shows have close ties to Endgame, and how cool would it be to see a Loki series in which his 2012 tesseract-wielding-self grapples with knowledge of his own future and plans accordingly until he catches up to the present day?? Watching as this powerful agent of chaos takes a steaming dump on time itself by refusing to stay dead or be erased from existence. 

Something tells me though *cough*Marvel’s track record with Loki*cough* that this route will not be taken. 

GOTG3 will at least, hopefully, help towards sorting out this time travel mess.

So, ultimately, is Avengers: Endgame a satisfying conclusion to the series? Kinda. Just don’t try to sort out the timelines. There’s more to come yet for a good while, and maybe (there’s that maybe again) we’ll still get the answers we seek.

....

Bonus: I’m reaching higher than the moon here but until told otherwise, the ‘clink clink’ noise at the end is totally Loki getting his handcuffs removed.