#polkaberry

I love da ge! He just didnt get as much screentime but i headcanon he's as smart as he is fierce, and he loves his younger brother and he died way too early uwu :( i want to marry nie mingjue cos i want to be a BAMF nie woman!

I would’ve loved more screentime for him :( I think he’s very smart too! Huaisang is like the... nature kind of smart I guess, understanding nature and art, living things, Mingjue is smart in a strategic, logical way and maybe even in a kinesthetic way, knowing his body and how to train it well. Imagine how powerful they could have been had they just... combined their smarts sigh!  He loves Huaisang so damn much and I will never get over it! He really got a half brother and said this child is now the most important thing in my entire life and i will protect it with all i have... get you a brother like that i love him so damn much :( icb I’ve seen Cao Yuchen complain about Jin Zixuan dying too early on in the drama but Wang Yizhou has never mentioned anything about Nie Mingjue dying too early as far as I know... ok he never does interviews or vlogs but still The things I’d do for more Mingjue... I just want to know more about him! Just those few glimpses in the drama and then fatal journey was not enough! Give me more Nie bros!! I wanna be a Nie lady too!! I get u!! But I’d be happy to just be Mingjue’s personal bodyguard. I may be small but I’m fierce, no touching my man!!

To: @polkaberry

From: @lonnielei

Alexander Hamilton was lying down on his hard wooden floor, legs up against the brick wall of his home. The fireside was blazing bright, but he wasn’t feeling any of its warmth. How could he when he had the unshakable knowledge that everyone else in the New York colony was feeling the warmth of a family, probably with whom to drink toasts to the Revolution, and he was reduced to dealing with his angry ache over the British army in unwanted solitude? He wistfully looked up at his fireplace mantle, inhaling deeply and seriously considering sending up a prayer to his mother. That is, if the afterlife allowed such things.

He heard a knock at the door. Who could it have been at this ungodly hour? Figuring it was some seemingly unsilenceable British crier making their Christmastide rounds, he reluctantly got up to answer the door, all the while mentally preparing some bitterly harsh words to say. His jaw nearly dropped when he saw who he could swear was Elizabeth Schuyler, except bundled in a mountain of scarves, shawls, and classy hats that only the extremely wealthy could even hope to buy. And holding some kind of box. “E-Eliza?” He stammered in surprise that she would come out to see him. “What are you doing here?”

Eliza lowered a scarf that was covering her blue lips. “I… umm… had something for you. I’m so sorry it’s late, Father would never have approved if he knew I was giving gifts to any men besides him and my brothers.” She handed Alexander the box. “But… I’ll leave now.” She started to turn around and walk away.

Alexander watched her walk away, looking down at the big green and red box he had just been given and then at the one who had given it to him. “B-Betsey, wait,” he called out to her. “Please… stay with me. It’s dreadfully miserable here by myself.” He bit his lip. Now he just sounded vulnerable, but he hoped it would get her inside his home. After all, it was true that he could use some companionship. What better companionship could he get than that of the woman he loved?

Eliza stopped to consider the fact that everyone in her home, even the servants, were all asleep. Surely they wouldn’t mind if she stayed behind at the house of George Washington’s secretary for a little while. Especially when he needed someone the most. “Alright, alright,” she turned around and replied, pretending staying with him was such a big burden on her schedule. “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” She dashed into Alexander’s house, delirious with excitement to see him open her present.

They sat together face-to-face in front of the fire. Alexander’s eyes glowed as he watched the box just sitting there, hands tingling with uncontrollable glee. “Well,” Eliza teased, “I don’t have all year! Open it already!”

He gulped. “Will you open it with me, then? This is the first present I’ve ever gotten from anyone, and I want to share it with you." 

Eliza looked back down at the box, trying not to show that she was blushing aggressively. She looked back up at Alexander. "I don’t see why not,” she quipped playfully. “Ready?”

Alexander nodded vigorously and crudely attempted to untie the green bow that was holding all the shopping paper together. Eliza couldn’t fight back giggles, no matter how hard she tried. She took his hands, which were still fiddling with the bow, and guided them through untying the bow in a… neater fashion. “There you go.” She said, chuckling at how she just helped one of the Continental Army’s most venerated troops accomplish such a simple task like untying a bow.

Alexander couldn’t help but chuckle a little as well at his own clumsiness. He peered inside the box. “A wreath!” His eyes lit up brighter than the fire itself as he held it up. He scanned the wall for a place to put it. “I can’t wait to hang this… somewhere.”

“You don’t have to hang it anywhere,” Eliza replied, taking the wreath from him, “but here!” She placed it on his head and beamed. “Do you like it?”

Alexander looked up and giggled, pulling Eliza closer to him in a tight hug. “I love it.”

Eliza took off one of her scarves and wrapped it around his neck. “Take this, too. For keeps.”

Alexander gave her a shocked look. He took the scarf off and held it back out to her. “I could never take it. It belongs to you.”

“That’s why I want you to have it. You’ll need it more than I do when you go back to fighting tomorrow.” Her eyes sparkled with sincerity as she pushed it back toward him. “Please take it.”

“I don’t fight, Betsey. I just man George Washington’s diary. Besides, even if I did fight, I wouldn’t have anything to give you in return for all the things you’ve given me.” Alexander sighed guiltily.

Eliza’s mouth was creased with solemnity. “Promise me you’ll do your best at manning General Washington’s journal, and that’ll be the only present you ever have to give me."  

Alexander looked down. He looked deeply into Eliza’s eyes, almost as if he intended to pierce through them. "Cross my heart.” Staying inside a tiny tent and writing about the war rather than fighting in it was the last thing he wanted to do, but he would do it for Eliza.

Eliza’s face lightened up and she gave him a kiss on the forehead. Alexander rested his head on her shoulder, yawning and feeling worn-out but not wanting to let Eliza know. “Tired?” She smiled over at him as if he were her young child and she was his mother. He nodded pitifully. She wrapped an arm around him. “Close your eyes if you’re tired. I’ll stay for a while. Everyone in my house is sleeping at the moment, they can’t miss me too much, can they?” She winked at him. By the time she actually got a look at him, he was fast asleep.

“Sleep tight, Colonel Hamilton,” she whispered playfully, wrapping one of her coats around him. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

From: @polkaberry

Movies:

Lin suggests that Pippa come over and watch Valley Girl at his place because he’s got a ton of ideas to rattle off.

Lin relates Alexander and Eliza’s courtship to that of randy and julie; he reasons that Alexander is like Randy - an outsider to the upper crust of philadelphia/new york society.

“So Randy is definitely like Alex, right? He has no money, does what he can to get by, and crashes a party full of snobs and meets Julie, who is like Eliza, and it’s like, instant attraction.”

“Yes, I see that. But Alexander would never hide in a shower for hours just to get a glimpse of Eliza.”

“They didn’t have showers then!”

Punk:

It’s Halloween, there’s a cast party at Jasmine’s.

Daveed makes his way through the door, ducking his head to avoid messing up his hair. He gives a wave and everyone goes quiet for a minute.

“Damn, Daveed, did you get hit by a Hot Topic on the way here?” Anthony pipes up. “You look really good as a punk.”

Daveed smiles, reaches up to touch the glued-in spikes of his hair. Okay good they’re still in place.

“Thanks, man.”

Everyone takes selfies with punk Daveed. He’s wearing a studded belt and a rancid t-shirt, as well as plaid pants. He’s endlessly asked why.

“It’s not baggy clothing, which y’all have hardly seen me in. Also, Bay Area spirit.”

Feels:

It’s Christmastime and there’s little bits of decor strewn throughout the Rodgers: garland taped to door frames, strings of lights around mirrors. Some cheeky soul had even taken the time to affix mistletoe to various doors in the theater.

Anthony catches Jasmine under one such door. He adjusts the Santa hat on his head before pointing up. Jasmine follows his hand and laughs.

“You choose this door on purpose.”

“Gotcha.” Anthony smiles and leans in to give Jasmine a peck on the cheek.

Javier walks into the hallway at that moment, spots the two of them. “Ahh, you kids. Giving me the feels. Is that what the kids are saying these days?”

Saucy:

Jonathan invites everyone over for dinner. There’s copious amounts of pasta and just as much sauce. Literally. There’s seven kinds of sauces.

“Hey, Groff, what got into you? This is like happy hour for sauce.”

“I’m not sure. I was watching the Food Network and like, got this urge for sauce. So here it is, the pasta buffet.”

Someone makes a joke about taking breadsticks and leaving.

big boy.

From: @polkaberry

To: @fandom-weirdo1

Alex feels like he’s participating in an extended version of Chopped.

[gift fic for fandom-weirdo1]

Alexander has a distant cousin who suddenly passes away and leaves him a fair amount of money. He’s only met them three times, but family name had a higher card than personal familiarity, so that money had to stay in the family, hence his unexpected windfall.

He takes the money and rents a small restaurant space, gives it some TLC, and opens Sea Change Bakery.

Alex hires his closest friends: Lafayette is in charge of breads and savory dishes, John does cake decorating, and Hercules is the delivery driver and caterer. Alex is in charge of cakes and pastries.

It takes about two months for accolades from newlyweds and their wedding guests, as well as word of mouth from foodies, for business to become a steady thing.

Alex doesn’t think he could be any happier.

And that is when Eliza Schuyler walked into his life.

Eliza was in charge of ordering macarons for her family’s annual picnic. The theme of the desserts that year was floral. Alex takes the order sheet to the back, which causes John make a joyful noise that can be heard all the way up in the front of the shop.

Eliza peers past Alex as he comes back out to the counter.

“Floral design is John’s expertise. He hasn’t made a noise like that since I surprised him with a ticket to Sia for his birthday.”

Eliza chuckles. “He’s quite welcome.”

The macaroon order makes it to the picnic and are a big hit. After that, Eliza becomes a regular at the bakery - she comes in once a week for coffee and a pastry. She enjoys talking to Alex about all manner of topics.

She may have mentioned that to her sisters, who insisted on meeting this Alex fellow. Eliza tries to do damage control and say that Alex is just great to talk to, but her sisters demand to meet this man who was clearly interested in their dear Eliza.

Angelica and Peggy come with Eliza the next time she visits the bakery. They are quick to notice that Alex is giving Eliza big eyes while he’s talking to her. Eliza isn’t aware of this, though - she’s too engrossed in asking Alex about his method of making snickerdoodles.

Eliza squawks when Peggy swats her on the arm with a newspaper. She squawks again when Angelica writes her number down and catches Alex’s attention so she can give it to him.

“Angelica, please.” Eliza’s hiding behind the newspaper now to hide her reddened face.

“Alex, just give her a call. We can see that you’re clearly over the moon for her..” Angelica reaches over and pulls the newspaper away from Eliza’s face.

“You’re welcome, dear sister.”

Alex comes to work one morning and is greeted by Lafayette holding a folded slip of paper.

“Madame Angelica visited the bakery this morning and left this note for you. She says that you have a very colorful challenge ahead of you.”

Alex takes the letter from Lafayette, unfolds it, reads the contents.

“The Schuyler challenge - I have to prove myself to Angelica and Peggy through my baking. If I can satisfy their sweet tooth, I have their blessing to go out with Eliza. I have to serve one dessert every Friday.”

Lafayette beams. “We will help you in this endeavor. The men here, we see how you look at Eliza. You loooooove her.”

“Laf, please.” Alex blanches. “I don’t loooooove her. I really like her.

“Let’s get to work then. Gotta get that love train rolling.”

Alex gathers up nerve to call Eliza. She picks up on the third ring.

They exchange pleasantries before Alex tells her that her sisters gave him a baking challenge. She chuckles and assures Alex he’ll do fine, that her sisters have done this before to her previous suitors.

Alex coughs and asks how well the previous suitors had fared.

Eliza laughs, says they didn’t pass. She lets Alex in on a secret - her sisters like him already.

Alex musters the nerve and calls Eliza that night. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey. It’s Alex.”

“Oh hey. I was wondering when you would call.”

“Yes.” He pauses. “So Angelica came by the bakery today and requested I agree to an extreme version of Chopped so that we can go out.”

Eliza laughs, a low throaty sound that resonates through the phone, warming Alex’s sense of hearing. “Dear me, that is a glaring mistake.”

“How so?”

“Angelica never requests. She demands.”

“Ohh.” Alex’s face turns red and he stares into the bowl of cake batter he was stirring. “I’ve already messed up.”

“No, no. Let the baking challenge speak for you. I know you’ll do great.”

Alex smiles wide, wishes Eliza could see it. “I’m glad I have your vote of confidence.”

“Of course.” A flurry of noise comes from Eliza’s end of the line. “Hey, Alex? I have to go. My sisters are home.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Totally.”

Alex presses end and sets his phone down next to the bowl.

“Hoo boy,” he says to the cake batter.

Alex and his crew undertake Angelica and Peggy’s baking challenge with gusto. They carefully craft seven desserts that would show off the full vibrancy of one color of the rainbow per week.

Red: Rainier cherry tart with latticework top

Orange: Orange marmalade filled macarons

Yellow: Lemon pound cake

Green: Key lime custard topped with candied lime peel

Blue: Blueberry cream pie

Purple: Plum pudding topped with lavender-infused sugar crystals

Alex clears a space in the front display cabinet so the weekly challenge is front and center for the sisters to see when they came in.

All three sisters come in the following Friday. Alex has just set the tart out when he hears the doorbell jingle.

The cherry tart is served with scoops of Lafayette’s homemade vanilla ice cream. The sisters eat in silence; all of the men watch from the doorway, nervous about the incoming judgement.

The spoons are set down and the sisters put their heads together to deliberate. Peggy stands up, looks to the doorway.

“You pass this one. We’ll see you next week.”

Eliza winks at Alex before closing the door. All of the men sigh in relief. Lafayette thanks his mother for her ice cream recipe. Alex smiles; he got through this round.

The next week, Alex makes a dozen of the orange marmalade macarons. John insists on taste testing the marmalade to make sure the balance of citrus to sugar is just right.

After three adjustments and four tastes, John gives the dessert his blessing.

Alex serves the macarons with orange pekoe tea.He excuses himself when he goes to address a call-in order, so he is not present when the sisters leave.

When he is finally free, he goes out to clear the table. There is a note, neatly folded and standing upright.

The impeccable script reads “You passed this week. We will see you next Thursday. - Schuylers 3

The lemon pound cake is served by Lafayette, who brings an extra level of presentation by wearing a lemon costume.

“Anything for a friend,” he says.

The cake passes with flying colors. The review note also gives a glowing review of the French Fruit of the Loom model who moonlighted as their waiter.

Hercules volunteers to wear a lime costume for the presentation of the key lime custard. All of the sisters groan and cover their faces when he comes out wearing that and holding the tray with the desserts and small cups of hot chocolate.

Peggy shouts for Alex to “go full Violet Beauregarde and rock a blueberry costume” for the following week.

“Alex, you really should wear the blueberry costume. Ladies’ choice.” Lafayette gives Alex his brightest grin.

“No. No no no no. I will not dress up. That is your wheelhouse.” He points to Lafayette and Hercules. “I’m taking this seriously.”

Alex does decide to participate in the fashion-adjacent presentation of blueberry cream pie. He doesn’t wear a blueberry costume, instead, he settles on wearing his best blue shirt.

Peggy frowns. “Aww, I was hoping you would do the Fruit of the Loom challenge too. Tsk.”

Alex smiles. “Unlike my friends…” he glances to the kitchen door, where the three other men are trying to look busy and not like they’re eavesdropping “I’m taking this challenge very seriously.”

Angelica nods. “You’re a good man, Hamilton.” She takes a bite of her pie, pauses to chew and swallow it, and licks the back of her fork. “Good pie, too.”

For the final challenge, all of the bakery’s employees participate. Lafayette is in charge of decorating the table: purple tablecloth, purple candles, bunches of lavender and pansies in the glass centerpiece. John makes the dessert - he insisted on doing the sugar crystals, thank you very much. Hercules does the presentation and serving again.

The sisters ask where Alex is. The guys say he wasn’t feeling well that day and sends his deepest regrets for not being able to be at the shop.

Alex was actually in the office, hiding out because he was so nervous. It wasn’t like him to be nervous, but. Eliza. She was something special.

After the sisters leave, Alex peers out from the door of his office. He waves until he catches the guys’ attention and gives the thumbs up or thumbs down gesture.

He gets three thumbs up gestures in return.

Eliza calls Alex three days later.

“Hey, are you going to be at the bakery tonight?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“I’m bringing some friends from school in to try some of your desserts.”

“Awesome. I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee so it’ll be ready by the time you get there.”

About an hour later, Eliza and five of her classmates come through the door. Alex gets them all sorted with desserts and coffee. He’s just gone back to his office when he hears a knock on the door. He looks up to see Eliza standing in the doorway.

“Hey. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, of course. I just wanted to give you something.”

Alex tilts his head curiously. “Okay.”

“I made these.” Eliza presents Alex with two cookies wrapped in plastic; one is a happy face and the other is a heart.

“Those look too good to eat.”

“Thanks. I made them myself.” Eliza grins. “How about we share them after our date on Friday?”

“Date? Like…”

Eliza nods. “You’ve passed the Schuyler challenge. We are all satisfied.”

fandom: marvel cinematic universe pairing: bucky/steve summary: When Bucky was in cryogenic stasis, his subconscious produced some of the steamiest dreams...about Steve. As he adjusts to freedom and the twenty-first century and reclaims his life, he remembers flashes of his dreams from cryo and finds that his relationship with Steve is coming to resemble the stuff of his fantasies.  word count: 3.2~ k warnings: SMUT AHOY! Also stuffing, chubby!Bucky, Bucky being aroused by his own weight gain, and some light consensual teasing. a/n: written for @polkaberry as part of the chubbystuckyexchange. Hope you enjoy! >< 

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It's 2014, Bucky reminds himself. His sense of time has been so confused throughout all those years under HYDRA's control, sometimes it's hard to remember where, and for that matter, when, he is, but he's making progress.

Right, so Steve’s mom used to always answer his inquiries with “We’ll see”. When he was little, he thought it was just one of those things moms do. It wasn’t until he was older that he realized it was because she never knew if he’d be healthy enough or if they’d have enough money to go to the beach or Coney Island or get pizza on Friday night or see a movie if she didn’t need to work an extra shift.

He got so used to hearing it that it became his default response, too. When Clint would ask if he wanted to go to this show or that party, he’d always say, “We’ll see.” It got to the point where Clint would ask and answer in the exact same tone and cadence as Steve would, so one day Steve switched it to French just to fuck with him. The look on Clint’s face! After he brought his brain back online, Clint laughed and dragged Steve to the party anyway. (Steve ended up making out with some beefy dude in the back yard, so you know, the French stuck around.)

They’re coming up on the end of college, Peggy and Steve with their art degrees (although Peggy is also a certified medical transcriptionist and phlebotomist, because everyone telling her “Art! How are you going to pay your rent looking at paintings!” and everything freaked her out) and Clint with his MBA, and Steve is all talk about opening his own shop. 

Everyone says he should, his work is amazing, and he’s easily the most popular guy at the shop he apprentices at, and Stark even offered to front him the money and fund it until it became profitable. But Steve’s waffling back and forth. Peggy asks, ‘Steve, it’s not going to cost you anything to try it. What’s the worst that could happen?” Steve says, ‘We’ll see.”

He’s still considering it, writing out pro-and-con lists, until one night he and Clint go out to a club (not Stark’s - it’s not open yet) and Clint’s dancing with his shirt off. Not unusual. 

What is unusual is instead of everyone admiring Clint’s arms because, damn, son, look at those arms, they’re admiring the new hawk tattoo Steve just finished wrapping around Clint’s bicep. And Clint’s giving Steve significant looks and at the end of the night he screams toward the sky, “STEVE THIS IS A SIGN FROM THE HEAVENS OKAY? What is the worst that could happen?” Steve says, “We’ll see.”