The chiricsanango, or yesterday today and tomorrow plant, has color-changing flowers that last for just three days: yesterday they were purple, today they are lavender, tomorrow they will be white, and then they will be gone.

Desire can't move past, only onward.

On Bazzard's first Christmas in London, the thorn of anxiety is keenly felt, and then drawn out a little.

Evening is the customary time for intercourse, David has helpfully informed her, but it makes no difference here. Nothing makes any difference.

Nightmares are rarely invented entirely out of whole cloth.

Luo Binghe looks at Shen Qingqiu’s face carefully for any sign of recognition but finds none. Instead, Shen Qingqiu looks impressed, like he can’t imagine it. Luo Binghe preens at impressing Shen Qingqiu and he chooses to take this as a win in the series of battles in the war to make Shen Qingqiu remember. Luo Binghe just hopes that the battles will eventually come to an end.

Silly little ficlet.

Tybalt and Mercutio were childhood friends, of a sort.

“Why do you wear your face like that?”

Nie Huaisang's hand comes up partway to Meng Yao's face before his fingers curl inwards. Meng Yao's eyes go wide and tremulous before the corners of his mouth curl into a small smile, like one of the soundless laughs shared between them in the midst of a banquet speech.

Tsukishima knew if he didn't look now, he never would, so he steeled himself. “If you want to show me, then show me, sir.”

Tsurumi kept one hand on Tsukishima’s shoulder and pulled away the headplate with the other, setting it down on the bedside table.