#a fic a day in december

[skyrigel]

Simon who's known for his dry sarcasm and bland remarks, it doesn't matter what one says to him. It's his natural instinct at this point — to jab back or give a solid burn.

So it happened like this, he was injured after one of the mission, minor wounds, one misplaced bone from wrong landing, but it was the hollow eyed look, the roughed up and neglected state that made you double take over the lieutenant.

“Oh god,” you muttered under your breath, pressing the syringe up in air to check its ejection, “You look terrible !”

The last part was directed on him. Simon whose eyes were pinned on your back moved ever so slightly when you turned around.

“So do you.” He said like the words were placed on his mouth tip and were uttered as soon as his lips parted.

The statement wasn't wrong entirely, there has been shortage on staff and so it's only you and a handful of other nurses over the double hour shifts.

You glanced back at him, regarding, and assessed the minor wounds and some of which were not at all minor whatever the Lieutenant Riley had insisted on to the poor Doctor who was very happy leave him at that and assign the rest to you, a count of stiches and tablets and x-ray sheet rolled through your mind, unaware of the way Simon was biting his lips and looking very alerted. Like he was practicing something in his head.

“I didn't mean it.” He said quietly.

“mmm” You sat beside him, looking for the certain nerve and angling the syringe carefully over the pale wrist.

“I didn't mean it,” Simon said again, all hesitancy gone now replaced with a blazing edge, dragging his gaze along with you.

You could've laughed upon the urgency he said it with, the desperation came off in supersonic waves.

“I know, Simon.” You smiled kindly to his sincerest eyes. The sharp tip penetrating under his skin and emptying transparent vitals into his body.

“I think yer very gorgeous.” He blurted out and was torn between looking away or never letting go, at last he lowered his eyes where you applied little pressure oved his hand to redirect the circulation.

You pressed the gauze with eyes only on him, a sweet shy smile blooming across your exhausted face. “alright, rest now.”

And he did just as he was told. Probably the first time ever.

The last time he'd said, “I would rather rest in peace, than here.” And the doctor who had just dropped the bullet back on grey tray was horrified enough to ask whereabouts of the anthesia guy ASAP.

So if a certain nurse happened to smile throughout the thirteen hour shift, and if a certain soldier was thinking of ways he could end up in medical infirmary again. Then it was purely coincidence.

Masterlist

[midnight-mourning]

Under the Lights

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 2❄️❄️

Gahh, late again, my bad y'all

But hey! Here now, and I hope you all enjoy, this was something that was SO cute and sweet, though i did add the tiniest bit of angst (to enchance the sweet dw), have fun!

Prompt: I'd like to request dca seeing christmas lights for the first time. like full on, bright, colorful, possibly in shapes lights, those houses that go all out style. when I was a kid my family used to go on nighttime/ dusk-that-turned-into-nighttime walks in the cold, sometimes with hot cocoa, to see what people in the neighborhood did. something with that kinda feel, y'know? that'd be so sweet.

Word Count: 1889

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Starshine, hurry uuup," You hear Sun's voice from the front hall. "We're going to miss them!"

You laugh, from in the kitchen, "Sun, the lights stay on all night. At least I think so." You cringe, probably not great for the environment, but you were just as guilty, having prepared your house just a few days ago. 

Another groan on anticipation. You hear footsteps stomp down the hall, his face appearing in the doorway soon thereafter. 

"What could you possibly be doing?"

You beam, holding up your thermos, "Making hot coco! Which I just finished mind you. Now, grab the marshmallows for me. They're on the top shelf."

"Is that what you've been waiting on? Why didn't you say anything sooner!" He shoos you out of the way, opening the cabinet with a tsk, "Who would put them there of all places?"

"Sunny. That was you. You were trying to regulate my sugar intake."

He pauses, bag in hand, "Oh, right. Sorry."

Sheepishly, he hands it over and you dump a large handful into your thermos, "I'll forgive you if you ignore this."

"Trying to." His rays twitch as you added a few extras for good measure. 

You tighten the lid with a smile, "There! Now I'm ready. Let's go."

"Finally! I was starting to lose hope." With that, Sun takes your free hand and leads you out of the kitchen and out the front door. Thankfully you were already dressed for the weather, or you wouldn't have stood a chance against his determined march. 

"At least let me lock the front door!"

It's right around dusk currently, and the lights have just begun to turn on around the neighborhood. There's only a few families out and about currently, most wouldn't come outside until later. 

Your breath clouds in the air, and you huddle into your coat tighter. One hand however, is occupied holding Sun's, his grip tight, but not harsh. 

He leads you around the neighborhood, hitting all the spots with lights currently on. Which admittedly, aren't a lot. Still, it's enough to please him. Taking in every display, no matter how big or small, with a sense of genuine curiosity and wonder. 

Prior to now, you had no idea how much of the holidays and Christmas he and Moon had knowledge of. 

It was apparently, not a lot. 

"Oh! This snowman has pipe! But wouldn't he melt?"

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Why is that reindeer's nose red? Does he have a cold?"

"Oh! The, the snowman and the reindeer are... friends?"

This went on at pretty much every house you stopped by, and each time, you explained the lights or decorations on displayed. You truly didn't mind to, you think his interest was incredibly cute. 

To Sun's dismay however, as it grew darker, more lights began to come on, but it wasn't enough for him to stay out. You're soon joined by his lunar opposite.

Moon, while much less talkative, still has a great interest in looking at the lights. And despite having seen some displays through Sun's eyes, insists on doubling back multiple times. 

"Perhaps there's something we missed."

You scoff, "We've looked at Frosty and Rudolph three times now, Moon-man."

"I just find the mechanics of their movement to be fascinating." He bends down so he's eye to eye with the reindeer made of lights, who's head moves back and forth every so often. "Simply a string of lights and a motor."

You watch as he pokes the display's nose. 

"I'm just glad this isn't, you know, painful for you." You shove your hands in your pockets. 

You'll admit you'd been a bit worried about how this would all go. With the inconsistency of the lighting, there was the concern of the two AI constantly flipping back and forth out of their control. And while you knew the light didn't exactly hurt Moon, it was uncomfortable, from how he'd described it to you in the past. Especially back during their days in the Plex. 

It felt like ages ago now, your time spent together then. You were different, they were different. In some ways that was good, in others... 

You shake your head, letting the memories come, but pass you by. Things were better now, good. And you truly cherished that. Being able to see them happy, content, it's all you wanted at this point. 

Plus, the bonus of seeing them in casual clothes like their current sweatshirt and pants made you feel like you'd domesticated the attendants. A thought both incredibly humorous, and comforting. 

Moon stands, turning to you, "It isn't. This has been nice so far. Thank you for doing this for us." He takes your gloved hand then, holding it up his smile before releasing you. 

Your face feels hot, you cough, avoiding eye contact, "You're um, you're welcome." Your gaze falls on a random house, where an old couple is standing outside, passing out snacks. "Hey, let's go check out that place next. The Kline’s always have a cute display."

Before Moon can respond, your stomach growls, causing you to become more embarrassed. 

He laughs, following after you as you start to head that direction in front of him a few steps, "I'm sure that's your only reason, Star."

After a quick snack break of chocolate covered pretzels and popcorn, your continue to move through the neighborhood. Your stretch of the street was filled with more of the easygoing type folk. Some had a few bigger displays, but nothing over the top. There was a softer, calmer, type of feel to things. 

The other end of the block, not so much. 

You don't know what started it, but for as long as you can remember, at the other end of the street seemed to have it out for each other in terms of trying to see who had the most extravagant lights on display. 

It was a slow transition, houses soon becoming completely covered in lights, framing every window and roof line. Then came the yard lights, the giant inflatable snowmen and Santas, and the music. Oh, the music. 

Before, someone might've been playing a tune on a radio, drifting out amongst the chatter on the street. Over here, you had people blasting 'Carol of the Bells' at full volume. And while you didn't mind the song on a normal day, it was almost unbearable. 

You came across two houses that were obviously trying to outdo each other, houses shining so bright you could probably see them from space, their entire yards covered with—in your opinion—gaudy decorations made of cheap plastic. You flinch at the conflicting music between the two, not even able to decipher the difference between the songs.

The problem however, arouse when the displays start flashing, making cool looking, but nauseating patterns play out on each house. It was disorienting enough for you, but when you glance to your left and one moment see Sun, and the next Moon, squinting against the visual assault, you can only imagine how the experience is for them. 

After a moment to collect yourselves, you exit that section of the neighborhood, finding the other side of that chaos to be more like your comfort level again. 

"That was, certainly something." You take a sip of your hot coco, which is about half gone by now. The marshmallows helping to make it last a little bit longer. 

Moon's hand is to his faceplate, and blinks hard a few times before shaking his head, "I believe 'something' is the best way to put it."

You frown. He doesn't sound happy. Not angry, just, annoyed, dazed. You start to feel guilt sink in. 

"I'm sorry, I, I should've realized how bad that would have been for you two. We could've found a way to go around, or something."

He looks to you then, "Why would you apologize? It's not your fault."

"Still,"—you shake your head—"Are you alright?"

Moon chuckles, setting a hand on your shoulder, "We're fine, Starlight. We've faced far worse than a barrage of flashing lights,"—his hand moves to your cheek—"You know that."

You wince, "Yeah. I do." 

Despite Moon's reassurances, you can sense a bit of tension in him. Seems he's trying to hide that they're still recovering. 

You take the chance to check the time on your phone. You'd wanted to save this for later in the night, giving plenty of time to see the full neighborhood, but decide that this is the perfect opportunity. 

You take his hand, and start to lead him to your new destination, "Come on, I want to show you both something."

"Is it more lights?" Moon asks. 

You turn slightly, small smirk on your face, "A little more than that."

You head back down the street, past the battling lightshows, and past your own house. You walk to the park located at the end of the street, an open, sprawling place, filled with lights of its own. Between displays, kids play out in the snow, their parents watching nearby, chatting. 

You make it to your goal, the large tunnel of warm, white lights in the center of the park. As you enter, Sun appears, face turned up to admire the archway. You think you might even hear him gasp in admiration.

Located at the end of the tunnel is a gazebo, decorated with the same soft lights. As you were hoping, it's unoccupied. Otherwise this would be a bit awkward. 

Once you’re up the steps and in the center, you stop, turning around to face Sun. 

He tilts his head, "This is pretty, Sunbeam, but is there a reason why you brought us here?"

"There is." You take a deep breath, "Listen, getting to have you both in my life, every day, it's not something I take for granted," You take both of the attendant's hands in your own, "I know how much I could've lost. How differently things could have turned out. And I'm just, I'm really glad they didn't."

Sun chuckles, squeezing your hands gently, "Oh Star, we're so happy to have you in our life too!"

"No, you don't understand." You sigh. Now or never. "I love you. Both of you. I, I don't know what I'd do without you."

Sun freezes. Once fluttering rays now stock still. 

"It's okay if you don't feel the same! Either of you. You, you don't have to. I just, wanted to let you know, yeah?" You're fumbling over your words now, heat rising on your face again. 

Again, no response. 

"Well um, that's um, all I had to say—"

You're interrupted by Sun pulling you closer, and pressing his smile to your lips. At first you were afraid of a very specific, humiliating, scenario happening, but thankfully, his faceplate is quite warm against the cold. 

After a few moments, he pulls away. 

"I love you too." A pause, "So does Moon, but he can have his chance to say it later."

You laugh, joy filling you instantly. The noise is cut short as Sun leans in again, kissing you once, twice, three times, you start to lose track. 

So, there you stand, kissing—one of—your loves in the glow of the holiday lights, appreciating it all just that much more. 

And you still had some hot coco left.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

hehehehe, I told you it'd work out. Thank you @juukai for the request! it brought back some of my own personal nostalgia for this kind of thing and was very enjoyable ^_^

If you'd like to request, you have until 12/13 OR until all slots are filled, currently 11 of 31 are taken! See here for more details, thanks for reading!

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

[esilher]

Art: @esilher  Fic: @mynonah Thank you so much @bossymarmalade for the quick beta reading! <3 You can read it on AO3

Andersons’ Bakery Kurt stopped in front of the shop and looked up at the sign above the door. On the black glass, in gold letters, was the name of one of New York's most popular bakeries: Andersons' Bakery. It was a long shot, he knew, and for a moment he wondered if he should go home instead. 

"If you never try, you'll never know." His father's words rang in his ears. He took a deep breath to brace himself and reached for the door handle.

As he stepped through the door, the smell of freshly baked pastries immediately hit his nose. Behind the counter, one of the Anderson brothers was restocking the shelves with freshly baked baguettes. There was a small line, as always, but no one seemed to mind the wait. It was worth it.

"Welcome to Andersons' Bakery. What can I get for you?" The man asked and Kurt realized that it was finally his turn.

"Oh, I... Hi, um. I'm here to apply for the job. I saw that you…”

"You're looking for Blaine," he interrupted Kurt with a smile. "I'll let him know. You can wait over there," he gestured to the other end of the long counter, and by the time Kurt looked back to thank him, he was already gone.

Kurt walked over to where the man had directed him and stopped in front of the pastries. As he studied the assortment, he nervously adjusted his bag. Pies, donuts, biscuits, muffins, croissants - the selection was impressive, but that shouldn't intimidate Kurt. There was nothing here that he hadn't baked a hundred times before. Still, he was nervous.

"Hi, I'm Blaine," a new voice interrupted his thoughts. "You're the one here for the job, right?"

"Yes," Kurt answered, smiling at the man on the other side of the counter. "Kurt Hummel," he added quickly, extending his hand to Blaine.

"Blaine Anderson." The man smiled back as they shook hands. Blaine's mouth opened again, but suddenly he wasn't sure what to say. Beautiful eyes, Blaine thought. But maybe that's not the right place to start. "May I have your resume, please?"

"Oh, sure," Kurt replied, then pulled out the zipper on his shoulder bag and began to rummage through it. "Sorry," he mumbled nervously. "I'll have it in a minute." 

He pulled out some papers one by one, but those weren’t what he was looking for. Some notes from college, some sheet music, a new cheesecake recipe he'd written down two weeks ago, some drawings of how he planned to redecorate his apartment, a few pages torn out of a fashion magazine... more college notes.

"I know I put it in here... It's just…” Kurt glanced up at Blaine, smiling nervously. “Just a minute.”

"Take your time,” the man tried to reassure him.

"No, I mean... it's here somewhere. Where the fuck did all these college notes come from?” He snapped suddenly. “Can you believe I've already graduated? And I'm carrying all this around with me. Fuck. Oh God, I just said fuck," he said, covering his mouth with his free hand. 

"Actually you said it three times," Blaine added, clearly amused by the scene.

Kurt's eyes widened. "I'm so sorry. I don't usually swear, I just... I mean, I do, everybody does, right? But not here. I mean, not like that. Anyway... Sorry, I... I know I put it in here," Kurt said again as he began to frantically flip through a folder.

"Hey, don't worry! Maybe you can just email it to me and then next time…"

"No, no, no…” Kurt shook his head. “It's here somewhere, I swear."

"Okay, then... Maybe in the meantime you could tell me about your work experience...? What bakery did you work at before?"

"Well, it's... it's a little... So I don't really have any experience, at least not the kind you're thinking of. But I love to bake. I've just never worked in a bakery before."

"You've never worked in a bakery before." Blaine repeated in shock and Kurt dumped the entire contents of his bag onto the counter for the third time.

"No," Kurt continued, oblivious to Blaine's dismay. "But I've been baking since I was 6. I started with my mother's recipes. I did it with my mother, of course. I actually have a lot. I mean, recipes, not mothers.” 

Blaine bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Thank you for clearing that up.”

“My family and friends say I bake pretty well. Of course, they love me, so what else would they say..." Kurt suddenly froze. He looked up at Blaine. “God, that sounded awful, didn't it? Shit," he muttered and went back to his bag. Blaine couldn't help but chuckle.

"I FOUND IT!" Kurt exclaimed, clutching a folder as his bag landed on the floor with a thud. He pulled the sheet he was looking for out of the folder and handed it to Blaine with a triumphant grin. Blaine took the paper, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him.

"You're hired," he said.

Kurt's jaw dropped in shock. "What? I mean... really? But you haven't even read my resume."

Blaine looked down at the paper in his hand, his eyes scanning it quickly. "No criminal record, you’re from Ohio too, your family loves your cookies..."

"So do my friends."

"So do your friends." Blaine repeated, looking up at Kurt. "That's more than the last two applicants can say for themselves. You're hired."

Kurt let out a squeal and with a sudden impulse, he leaned over the counter to hug Blaine. Blaine froze for a second by the unexpected reaction, but his arms instinctively tightened around Kurt.

-

"We have a new baker," Blaine called to Cooper as Kurt left the bakery.

"So I heard. You two weren’t exactly discreet." The older brother walked over to Blaine and took the resume out of his hand. His eyebrows furrowed. "You hired an ACTOR?"

"What?" Blaine grabbed the resume back from Cooper and for once actually started to read it.

"You didn't even read it??"

"I'm reading it now."

"Are you crazy? This is a bakery, Blaine."

"Yeah. I noticed that," Blaine mumbled and put the resume down. "Did you see his eyes, Coop?" he asked.

Cooper blinked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“He has beautiful eyes,” Blaine added, as if that was an acceptable explanation.

"Cool. That's a big help when you're working with dough," his brother replied sarcastically, shaking his head in disbelief.

Blaine sighed. "I'll train him."

"You better, little brother." Cooper said pointedly before heading back to the customers.

His brother turned back to Blaine who was looking at the resume again.

"You don't look like you regret it," he said, smiling fondly at him.

"I don't. He starts tomorrow." Blaine winked at his brother and disappeared into the back of the shop.

[serotonin-dose]

[...] and there was something so unmistakably different about the way she looked at him, with rosy cheeks and bright eyes [...]

Fanart of Arten's Sweet Dreams Are Made of This ( 1 | 2 )

[pearlynia]

I need a fic rec, that has

jegulus and marylily raising baby harry

Wolfstar and rosekiller as cool uncles

Dorlene and Pandora as the cool aunts

And DRAMAA. ANGST. FLUFF.

And happy ending cuz I can't handle sad endings

[enjoythesilentworld]

sunday snippet 🎄

Wille opened his mouth to answer, but Simon was reaching up to his hair, and when he pulled back, he was holding a plastic plant twig. 

It must’ve gotten stuck when he was in the attic. Ever the opportunist, Wille chirped, “Mistletoe,” grinning dumbly, and leaned forward to kiss his sweet boyfriend who he had missed very dearly. 

“Nu-uh,” Simon pressed a hand to his chest. “Spill, Wilhelm.” 

[chrollogy]

step on me, fatui harbinger!yue 🙏🏼

[yujeong]

Me being totally normal: I can surely figure out what page he's at if I stare at it for too long

Also me, staring at it for too long: Wait...is he reading....the foreword...? I can't believe it took me this long to realize Vegas is reading the first page here. It might not even be the foreword, it might be info about the author, it's so funny. But don't worry, the good news is that he's actually reading the book in this scene:

which, of course, you can make the claim that beforehand, he was not in a good mental state (Vegas? not being mentally well? No fucking way right?) so he was trying to distract himself from whatever the fuck the whole thing he's doing at the safehouse is, but after him and Pete talk and bond and all of that good stuff, his mind can focus and actually read the damn book. Sidenote Because I'm a bit insane and very committed in finding things to obsess over with my hyperfixations, I estimated the possible percentage of the book he might be currently at, then went to the appropriate page and found this line there: "He felt very gay and light-headed, and quite forty years younger, as he walked to the door."

I swear to God, it was there, and I laughed so hard they must have heard me over in Thailand.

[lady-divine-writes]

"Taking the Plunge" (Rated M)

On their first day in Vail, on the last-minute vacation of a lifetime, Blaine has come up with a surprise for his husband that's equal parts horrifying and confusing. (1461 words)

Read on AO3.

"Tell me why..."

"Ain't nothin' but a heartache..."

"Stop that," Kurt snaps.

"Oh, uh..." Blaine bites his lips together, stifling a giggle. But more importantly, stifling the next verse of the song. "Sorry."

Kurt breathes in, cold air shooting straight to his lungs and freezing them solid. 'This is it,' he thinks, shivering so hard his body vibrates, scooting him a foot to the left against his will. 'This is how I die. I become a human popsicle. Maybe they can preserve me, revive me in the future. God...' He glances up at the dreary sky, his view obscured by his bangs, holding their height remarkably well against the blistering breeze. 'I hope my hair keeps up.'

When they had arrived in Vail and checked in, Kurt immediately threw on his swimsuit at Blaine's request. Personally, he'd been excited to get the debauchery started! It had been too long since they'd taken a proper vacation. Yes, they live alone together and can have sex freely on every piece of furniture they own. But there was something about taking their carnal escapades to a different locale that got Kurt's blood pumping.

What can he say? He loves to travel.

After Kurt suited up, Blaine tossed him his parka and boots, then ushered his husband past the cozy lodge, with its heated mineral spring pools and five-star restaurant, to this foreboding body of black, ice-filled water. They'd stopped at the banks, joining a swimsuit-clad group already gathered and intent on jumping in. Kurt thought Blaine had dragged him there for a laugh - watch the tourists freeze their asses off before they themselves retreated to the soothing waters inside.

It horrified Kurt to no end that Blaine looked eager to take the plunge, too.

When they had planned this vacation together on their sofa in Manhattan, Blaine made no mention of participating in the Arctic Dip. But that must have been his plan all along.

Surprise!

Kurt didn't think he could find a place colder than Ohio in December.

Staring into the water in front of him, ice bobbing at the surface, he knows he's about to be proven wrong.

Everything from his nuts to his nose shrivels at the thought.

"Explain to me again," Kurt starts over, choosing his words carefully so as not to stumble upon the lyrics of another catchy boy-band earworm, "why we're about to do this."

Blaine claps his hands together, rubbing them hard to warm them, and beams ear to ear. "Because it's exhilarating!"

"Your definition of exhilarating and my definition of exhilarating are vastly different then." Kurt pulls his parka tighter around him, attempting to trap whatever heat he has left underneath. It pains him to do it, though. He is certain he has pulled most of the seams loose by now.

A group of older, less dressed gentlemen stroll by as if it's a sunny spring day and not 80 degrees below, laughing at their own jokes and nodding at Kurt and Blaine as they pass. Blaine politely adverts his eyes.

"At least we're wearing bathing suits," he kids.

"Speedos. Which you had me pack under false pretenses."

"No! No false pretenses!" Blaine pleads, hoping his plans haven't lost him access to his husband in a Speedo for the rest of their trip. "They're for the jacuzzi in our suite. I swear."

"Which we haven't even seen yet! You dragged us straight here!"

"We want to take the plunge with everyone else! Before the ice melts!"

"Do we, though?" Kurt whines.

"Yes! This is the highlight of this resort! That's why I chose it! I've been looking forward to this!"

Kurt scowls. "O-kay. If you want to do this, fine. But why can't I wait on the sidelines with a sherry and a smile?"

"Because it's a bucket list item. And we do bucket list stuff together."

"But it's on your bucket list. Not mine. Nowhere on my bucket list does it say freeze my balls off!"

"I was hoping you'd do this with me as a favor? Be supportive of my eccentricities?"

Kurt tilts his head at Blaine, carefully examining his suddenly sullen spouse. "Why do you sound embarrassed about that?"

"Because it's..." Blaine chews his lower lip, trying to avoid the inevitable reveal. But he can't. He can't put this confession off any longer. "It's a... mid-life... bucket list item."

Kurt turns fully towards his husband, eyebrow arcing sharply. "You have your bucket list divided into age groups?"

"More like milestones."

"And you can't just dye your hair blond and buy a Ferrari like everyone else?"

"You mean like my dad? And my brother? Who got it into their heads that married life was holding them back, so they messed up the best things that ever happened to them?"

"I... guess," Kurt says, softening even though every outward inch of him has become rock solid.

"Yeah, well at least they waited a few decades, right? As opposed to me, who started in high school." Blaine chuckles bitterly. "Coop always said I was an overachiever."

Kurt sighs, releasing his death grip on his cramping elbows, and takes his husband's hands. "Honey, where is this coming from?"

"I don't know," Blaine murmurs. It's a knee-jerk answer but it's also a lie. He does know. They both do. Or, at least, Kurt can guess. It was either the invitation they received to Cooper's second wedding to his second wife, taking place in June (only a month after his second divorce from wife number one finalizes... the wife Blaine loves and adores like a sister) or the heads-up from Blaine's mom that his dad, who came back a year ago to joy and revelry all around, is eloping with his secretary.

His 20-year-old secretary.

Blaine's mom broke the news to Blaine over the phone at three in the morning, hysterically crying and sloppy drunk.

But it could also be the out-of-the-blue Facebook friend request Blaine got from Eli, their favorite lighthouse. Blaine had blocked the man on everything he could think of, so to see his name and picture pop up (real picture this time) had thrown Blaine for a loop.

He almost deleted his account.

Either way, that was a ton of emotional baggage for Blaine to deal with all at once. It's ninety percent of the reason why they packed their bags last minute and ran off to Vail. Blaine couldn't face spending the holidays with his family this year.

He wouldn't even know whose house to go to.

Kurt was fine with it. His family had headed off on another Country Music Christmas Cruise. Sure he missed his dad, his stepmother, and his stepbrother.

But Kurt had never declined an invitation so fast.

He had nothing against country music. He did have an issue with being trapped in the middle of the ocean with twenty-five Bluegrass bands and nothing to eat but BBQ for two weeks. Kurt and his father were going to have to have a serious conversation about his cholesterol when the man came back to terra firma.

Blaine shivers for the first time since they've been out here, and Kurt wonders if he's finally feeling the bite in the wind, or if it's from something else.

Something frozen deep inside, so cold that ice water is actually warm enough to melt it.

Kurt looks down at the still water, abyssal black and straight out of a horror flick, then back at his husband, eyes downcast to the snow, lips turning a subtle shade of blue. Kurt knows Blaine is rethinking this decision, and normally Kurt would encourage that. But this time doing what Blaine wants, what he needs, is more important than Kurt's comfort.

And possibly his health.

"Okay, okay. I'll do this with you," Kurt says, abandoning the escape plan he had been brewing in his brain - the one where he takes a step back as his husband leaps forward and books it for the lodge - and embraces the numbing cold. "Because you're my husband, and I love you."

Blaine peeks up at his husband and smiles, a small ray of sunshine in this oppressive chill. "Thank you, Kurt." He considers adding, 'You won't regret this,' after, but he has to be real.

Kurt regrets it already.

"But whatever happens," Kurt says, unzipping his jacket quickly like ripping off a bandaid, "you are responsible for warming me up, whatever that entails, and for however long it takes. Deal?"

Blaine's shy, apologetic smile transforms.

It becomes wolfish.

Through chattering teeth and hard-pinched lips, Kurt's flirtatious tone managed to squeeze its way back into his voice.

Perhaps Blaine hasn't lost access to his husband in a Speedo after all.

Now he has to work to keep it that way.

"Deal."

[wowbright]

Chapter 21: Picture, Again

Figureskating!Blaine/designer!Kurt Olympics AU for december klaine fanworks challenge. Also on AO3.

~~~

Blaine was warming up on the ice. He looked even more stunning as he moved than Kurt had anticipated, the costume highlighting the strength of his thighs, its blue bringing out the glossy blackness of Blaine's hair, the flared openings of the sleeves and ankles fluttering like wings as Blaine flew over the ice.

Sue was standing next to Kurt, scowling. Her hands gripped the railing. “I thought we were on the same page, Porcelain,” she said without looking at Kurt, her eyes fixed on Blaine.

“I know you usually prefer a more fitted sleeve, but I think—”

“I’m not talking about the costume. Your eye for design is flawless, as usual.” It didn't sound like a compliment. Sue’s tone was bitter. “But your behavior isn’t. You've gone against our agreement. You told me you'd keep your distance, and then the two of you come waltzing in this afternoon like Torvill and Dean.”

“I didn’t say I’d keep my distance. I said I wouldn't be a problem. And I won't.”

“Ha! You're getting him all hot and bothered for you, when what I need him to be hot and bothered for is winning. Cool off.”

“Maybe cooling off isn't what Blaine needs.” Kurt meant it factually, logically—a simple expression that people need different things at different times, and sometimes what they need is not what you expect. But the phrase cooling off triggered the thought of heating up, and then the sensation of Blaine’s chest against the back of his thighs, warmth radiating off his skin and into Kurt’s muscles, and the flames of desire spreading from Kurt’s center through his body, leaping from his fingers and toes back into Blaine, flickering up Blaine’s torso and neck and into his face, his eyes clenching with the heat of his orgasm, his muscles stiff, his mouth hanging open from an ecstasy so brilliant it was almost too much to bear, and again that same face this morning, impossibly intense and as clear as a picture, Kurt clinging to Blaine’s hips as he drove into him as deep as their bodies would allow, driven to madness by Blaine’s cries of yes yes I need you, I need your cock, give it to me Kurt, love me with your gorgeous gorgeous cock, oh yes oh yes love me, love me Kurt, love me with your big cock, I love your cock, I love, I love, I love—

“You played with his poodle, didn't you?” Sue wasn't watching Blaine anymore. She was glaring at Kurt, shooting arrows from her eyes.

They bounced off him like raindrops. “I don't know what you mean,” Kurt lied. He was starting to get the hang of Sue’s strange way of speaking. But he refused to acknowledge what was none of her business. “Blaine doesn’t have any pets. He travels too much.” Kurt turned back toward the rink, toward Blaine. “Speaking of distractions, shouldn't you be paying attention to him? He's about to start.”

Blaine was standing in the center of the ice now, the other skaters cleared from the rink. His head was bowed. His chest expanded as he inhaled deeply. He looked up and his eyes met Kurt’s. It was only for a brief moment, but Kurt felt a new kind of energy crackling between them. It wasn’t sexual—or if sex was part of it, it wasn't at the forefront. It was a new flavor of connection, an exchange of pride and hope and joy.

“You're distracting him again, Porcelain.”

Kurt didn't let the smile drop from his face. “Your harassing me is going to distract him. Stop scowling and give him a thumbs up.”

To Kurt’s surprise, she did exactly that as the music started up.

Blaine was beautiful. Of course he was. And it wasn't just Kurt’s hormones talking. It was objectively true. Kurt could see it in the faces of the skaters and coaches on the other side of the rink. He could hear it in the way Sue was breathing. Kurt had seen this routine before, but he'd never seen this level of passion in it. It looked effortless, almost as if it wasn't Blaine moving across the ice and through the air, but like they were the ones carrying him along: a bird catching the updraft.

“Goddammit,” Sue muttered under her breath when the music stopped and Blaine stood triumphantly at the center of the ice, beaming at the two of them. “That might be the best I've ever seen him.”

Kurt hooted and hollered and clapped as Blaine skated toward them. As soon as his blade covers were on, Blaine kissed Sue on the cheek and tackled Kurt, hugging him so tightly he almost lifted him off the ground.

Kurt watched as Blaine sat down to take his skates off and Sue hovered over him. They were murmuring back and forth in that secret way coaches and athletes have with each other. Kurt watched Blaine’s face for signs of conflict, but he just kept nodding and smiling—genuinely, his eyes alight—and Sue was smiling too.

~~~

The whispering continued as Kurt accompanied Blaine to the locker room. Kurt wondered if Sue was planning to follow Blaine in, like she often had back at the Olympic Training Center. Kurt wouldn’t love that; with Blaine’s meetings this afternoon and the opening ceremonies tonight, this was Kurt’s last chance to be alone with him today. Still, Kurt wasn't going to protest. Blaine was here to win medals, not to be on a honeymoon with Kurt.

Sue slapped Blaine’s back with a parting finality as they approached the locker room. “Remember, we meet in less than an hour with the rest of the team to go over strategy. Be there early.”

Blaine nodded. “Of course, coach.”

“And Porcelain—” She caught Kurt’s elbow. “—I need to talk to you for a sec.”

“Can it wait? I need to help Blaine with the costume.”

“It’ll only be a minute.”

Kurt looked at Blaine for rescue, but Blaine only nodded—reassuringly, but still—before disappearing into the locker room.  

“Sue, I don’t want to fight over—”

“Shh, Porcelain.” She pressed her index finger to Kurt's lips. Wow. This woman knew no boundaries. “I've spent the last two years giving Blaine my blood, sweat, and tears, trying to get him back to performing the way he did today. Jean—my sister—she kept telling me that maybe it was Blaine’s time to retire, that his body was done and could only go downhill. But I knew she was wrong. The problem wasn't physical. It was in his head. I did everything I could to put the fire back in him. You couldn’t expect me to just stand by and watch you ruin the tiny bit of progress we’ve made—”

“But I haven’t. You said yourself—”

“Shut up. I’m not done. Every man Blaine has dated, I have hated down to my core. Well, except for the one that tragically turned out to be straight. He was willing to put up with the kind of sacrifices an exceptionally talented person needs to make in order to succeed. He understood that, ultimately, there was only one person who could define Blaine’s purpose in the world.”

Kurt nodded in understanding. “Blaine himself.”

“No. Me. Sue Sylvester. That’s what made the others such losers. They didn't get that Blaine was put on this earth to obliterate the competition. And they made Blaine forget it, too. So you'll understand if I wasn’t happy with your blossoming romance. I'm used to him falling for guys who care more about what they want out of Blaine than what he was born to do. Who suck the life and creativity out of him. But you’re not like the others. If you were, he wouldn't have skated the way he did today. You, Porcelain, are not a leech.” Her voice was never gentle, but on this last sentence, it became more gentle than Kurt had ever imagined it could be. She set her hand on Kurt’s shoulder the same way she did when congratulating Blaine on a good job.

“I don't know how you did it,” she continued. “Whether it was your costumes or your ethereal good looks or biting charm or your penis. But whatever it was, you reminded Blaine of who he is. His fire is back. I envy your power.”

“It wasn’t my—” No. Kurt was not going to legitimize her mentioning his penis by repeating the word. “Those feelings have always been inside of him. I didn't create that.”

“Of course you didn't. I did. But he’d buried them deep enough that I couldn't pull them to the surface anymore.”

Obviously, Sue was deluded in thinking she’d created Blaine’s sense of self. But in terms of his skating, she had done something just as important. “You’re the one who’s kept him going all these years, Sue. You pushed him to get better even when he didn’t care. He told me. And there's no way I could do that. If he looked at me with those sad puppy dog eyes and told me he didn't feel like doing something, I’d surrender in a split second.”

Sue shook her head. “That much is apparent. Even my threatening you with a kitty cat failed to fortify you against the power of those amber orbs. Good thing I'm immune to emotion.”

“I still don't understand how the kitty cat thing is a threat.”

Sue looked Kurt up and down, her eyebrows scrunching together as if she were trying to assess his sincerity. “Really? You don't seem like someone who would be that slow on the uptake.”

“Really.”

She leaned in and lowered her voice, as if sharing a powerful secret that could be misused in the wrong hands. “Porcelain, you're obviously someone who likes to be in control. But you can't be in control with a kitty cat. The kitty cat controls you.”

~~~

“What did Sue want to talk to you about?” Blaine asked when Kurt found him in a secluded corner of the locker room, the closest human off in the showers singing “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid in a language that sounded like German, still far away enough that Kurt only caught half the tune. Blaine turned so Kurt could unfasten the zipper hidden in a back seam.

“You don't know?”

“Not really. I mean, I figured she wasn't going to eat you alive, or I wouldn't have left you out there alone. But she didn't tell me what she was going to say.”

“She didn't eat me alive. I think she gave us her blessing?”

Blaine’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Well, she said I'm not a leech, and I haven’t gotten in your way. Those are compliments coming from her, right?”

“Glowing ones.”

“And she seems to think I’ve helped you get your fire back.”

“You have.” Blaine’s voice was soft and full of conviction. He blinked, his mascara-heavy eyelashes fluttering pleasantly as he peeled off the top of the suit, revealing his broad shoulders and the various bundles of back muscles that were merely an undifferentiated mass in most people. “In more ways than one.”

Kurt wanted to plant a line of kisses from Blaine’s eyelids to his neck and across that beautiful back. But this wasn't the place for it. Instead, he held a sleeve in place so Blaine could wriggle his elbow free. “I can't take that credit. I'm glad to be of service, of course, but the talent and the vision and the work you've put in—that's all you, Blaine.”

Blaine met Kurt’s eyes. His own were filled with steady conviction. “Maybe both things are true. Maybe it all comes from inside of me, and maybe knowing you helps me express it. Maybe the sum of us is greater than its parts.”

Kurt's heart swooped. Seriously. How had Blaine ever thought he was bad at romance?

Kurt's body buzzed with it, urging him to curl his hands around Blaine’s jaw and press him against the locker with his kisses, convey them both back to the deep intimacy they had known in his hotel room.

Instead, Kurt sank to his knees to begin gently peeling the costume further away, uncovering the tops of Blaine’s statuesque buttocks. It didn't lessen his desire, but it gave him something else to do with his hands.

“She said something to me, too,” Blaine said. “She likes you.”

Kurt scoffed. “I think that's going a bit far.”

“No, really. I mean, those weren't the words she used, of course, because she's Sue. But she does.”

“What exactly did she say?” Kurt wasn't sure he actually wanted to know, but he needed something to distract him from the incredible muscularity of Blaine’s glutes and thighs and the memory they evoked of their intimacy this morning, when those muscles squeezed around Kurt as Blaine rode him, murmuring praise to Kurt and his cock, wringing unimaginable pleasure from both their bodies.

“Um … I'm not sure me repeating the words would be helpful. A lot of what Sue says gets lost in translation.”

“You realize that saying that only makes me want to know even more.”

“Okay, but—” Blaine rested his hand on Kurt’s shoulder for balance as he stepped out of the costume, leaving him a naked Adonis except for the dance belt covering his genitals and splitting his buttocks into two perfectly risen buns. “—it's going to sound crass. But for Sue, it's a ringing endorsement.”

“You’re not getting out of this.”

“Fine.” Blaine grabbed a towel and modestly wrapped it around his waist before removing his dance belt, a courtesy that felt simultaneously merciful and cruel to Kurt. “She said she knew we were ‘making the beast with two backs’ but she wouldn't hold it against us if I kept performing like that.”

“Wow. Ringing.”

“It's a lot better than what she said back in Colorado Springs.”

“And what was that?”

“Nothing bad about you. Just more ridiculous. She was worried about us getting together before the Olympics because your testosterone might show up on my doping tests and get me in trouble.” Blaine giggled and rolled his eyes. Kurt was used to people who rolled their eyes having disgusted expressions on their face, or at least disapproving ones. But Blaine’s expression looked almost fond.

“What? That doesn't make sense.”

“Nope. But apparently she thinks semen is an illicit testosterone-containing substance and the testosterone somehow enters the bloodstream?”

Kurt burst out laughing. “Ah! So that's the real reason the Olympic Committee hands out condoms.”

“Apparently. I honestly think that was her main concern about us. Well, that and she thought you were the reason I forgot about that meeting on your last day there, even though I explained to her it was the stress of …” Blaine hesitated. “Of all the media interviews that day. Otherwise, I think she’s liked you from the start. You're the only guy I’ve dated she’s called handsome, unless you count Jesse. And all her nicknames for you are based on her favorite fictional characters and celebrity crushes.”

“Which one of those is the Pillsbury Doughboy?”

Blaine shrugged. He looked so comfortable, standing there in nothing but his skin and a tiny towel and sweat-damp swirls of dark hair across his chest and trailing down his limbs while Kurt was covered neck to toe in textiles. “Not sure, but she and her sister have been collecting the figurines since they were little. They have a case full of Pillsbury Doughboy collectibles in their house right next to the trophy case.”

“That … is not something I would have guessed.” Kurt looked down at the costume, paying attention to the way he was folding it as much to distract himself from Blaine’s gorgeous body as to protect the fabric from damage.

“She's often mentioned his stunning blue eyes. Maybe that's why you remind her of him.”

“And here I thought it was because I was pasty.”

“You're not pasty. You’re …” Blaine traced a finger along Kurt’s jaw, coaxing Kurt to look away from the costume and into Blaine’s beautiful brown eyes. “Alabaster and coral.”

“You're not allowed to flatter me when you’re naked except for a towel around your waist and there’s nothing I can do about it because we’re in a semi-public locker room.”

“I wish we weren’t, though. I could go for an encore of this morning. I’m going to miss you so much tonight.”

Kurt glanced over his shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to Blaine’s lips. “When the competition is over, we can shut ourselves in a hotel room for a week and do nothing but that.”

Blaine smiled. “Sounds better than a gold.”

~~~

Kurt loved a spectacle, so the opening ceremonies were right up his alley: floating landscapes, a flying girl, a choir of hundreds of singers in traditional garb ascending from the clouds. Kurt tucked his opera glasses back into his coat pocket and snatched the binoculars from Sebastian’s lap. He needed something more powerful to pick out the details of the singers’ costumes. Each was made of white fabric with gold trim, but every single one was different—different hats and headgear, different cuts and lengths, some with bibs or aprons and others without, each decorated in elaborate patterns sewn by hand. The costume budget must have been massive.

Kurt would have been enjoying himself even more if Blaine were there, explaining what the heck the floating armada and flying volcano had been about. Kurt knew little about Russian history beyond what he’d learned when costuming for Chekhov’s Three Sisters and studying Soviet realism in design school. For each cultural reference that confused him, he knew there were dozens more he wasn't even noticing.

“Do you understand any of this?” Kurt asked.

Sebastian looked up from his phone. He had been glued to it since before the start of the ceremony. That was the life of a manager, Kurt supposed—always on the phone, texting and sending emails, arranging appearances and interviews and lunches and who knew what else. It was getting close to midnight in Sochi, but it was still prime working hours in the United States.

“The Russian landmass is fifty percent permafrost,” Sebastian said. “I think that's what the snow is about.”

“Very helpful,” Kurt said.

When Putin got up to speak, Kurt took the opportunity to check his vibrating cell phone. It was Blaine, who was waiting somewhere in the wings of the stadium and apparently had no interest in paying attention to Putin either. I can't wait until you see our uniforms. They will astonish you.

In a good way or a bad way?

You’ll find out!

Blaine was right. The outfits did astonish Kurt—with their hideousness. Ralph Lauren had been going down the tubes for a while, but this was abominable: saggy white athletic pants; a sweater covered with so many letters, numbers, flags, and logos it looked like a race car; and knit caps whose only saving grace was their size prevented the same excess of symbols that plagued the sweaters.

“Are you going to give me back my binoculars?” asked Sebastian.

“Nope. I’m trying to find my boyfriend,” Kurt said, not lowering the binoculars from his face as he reached into his pocket to retrieve the opera glasses and hand them to Sebastian. “You snooze, you lose.”

“I'm not sure why I thought Blaine’s influence would turn you into a nicer person.”

“It hasn't turned you into a nicer person, has it?”

“No. But I'm not sleeping with him.”

“Oh! There he is! Next to the giant!”

Blaine was cute as ever despite the abominable uniform, waving out to the crowd with a huge smile on his face as he walked between an equally bubbly Sam to his right and, to his left, Mike Chang with a ponytailed Kitty Wilde on his shoulders. She was holding her smartphone up to record the crowd, panning up and down the rows of seats, when she suddenly stopped, lowered her phone, and waved vigorously at Kurt and Sebastian before leaning over to pat the top of Blaine’s head and point him in their direction. He found them and his smile got even wider. He balanced on his toes and waved energetically.

“There's something wrong with these opera glasses. It looks like Blaine is having some sort of fit.”

“He's waving, dumbass.”

“And now he's blowing kisses! Let’s hope Putin doesn't arrest him for that.”

“Seriously, Sebastian. Do you have to ruin everything?”

“Yeah, sorry, that was … not funny. I only said it because I don't think there's any risk of him getting arrested for that. Does that make it any better?”

Kurt ignored Sebastian and watched Blaine turn the corner of the track. Blaine's back was to him now, but Kurt could catch the side of his face when he turned to the side with more waving and kiss-blowing.

“Ooh, Kurt,” Sebastian hissed dramatically. “You might want to look away. He’s blowing kisses to Billie Jean King now. Do you think he’s turned straight? Ow, the betrayal.”

“Oh no, a figure skater blowing kisses to members of the general public,” Kurt deadpanned. “Totally slutty and out of character. I'm devastated.”

Sebastian chuckled. But when Kurt turned to look at him, he saw that Sebastian was not laughing over what Kurt had said. He was looking at his phone again, grinning like the Cheshire cat as he thumbed a message into the screen.

~~~

Sebastian's texting went on through the entire opening ceremonies. Kurt loved his phone as much as the next person, but he was at least trying to enjoy the show. Besides, it wasn't like he could be constantly texting Blaine. It would look bad if, every time a rogue television camera landed on the section of the stadium holding the members of Team USA, Blaine was staring at his phone screen like a bored teenager. Meanwhile, Sebastian was thumbing something into his phone every five minutes. There was no way it was all work, because at least half the time, it was accompanied by the kind of giggling Kurt associated with chatting about celebrity crushes with Rachel and Mercedes in high school.

“I don't understand why you wanted to go to the opening ceremonies at all if you're going to spend the whole time on your phone,” Kurt said on the way back to their hotel. It was a rental car, and Sebastian was driving.

“I wasn't planning to be on my phone the whole time. It just … happened.”

“Work emergency?” Kurt knew that wasn't the answer, but sometimes guessing the wrong thing was the best way to get Sebastian to tell you the truth. Wrong impressions were like pebbles in Sebastian’s shoes. He had to get rid of them or they would drive him crazy.

“No.” Sebastian chewed on his bottom lip. “I … Okay, if I tell you, you have to promise not to be super gay about it. Because I'm driving, and that would be distracting.”

“What do you mean by ‘super gay’?”

“You know. Dramatic. Shrieking like a little girl.”

“Oh, Sebastian. Do we have to have another talk about internalized homophobia?”

“Just promise, okay?”

“I promise not to shriek like a little girl. I don't promise to not be super gay though.”

“Whatever. I … I met someone.”

Kurt inhaled sharply. He kind of wanted to shriek, or at least yell What? extremely loudly. But he had made a promise. “When? Wasn't it like, a week or two ago when you were crying in my hotel room about—”

“I thought we agreed to never mention that again.”

“You said not to mention it to other people, not you.”

“Fine. And yes, since then. Yesterday, to be exact. Or maybe this morning, if you want to be technical about it?”

“You met him last night and you already want to have kids with him?”

“I didn't say that! I just said ... I met someone. Who is interesting and that I actually like to talk to even when we're done fucking. I mean, usually after I have sex with someone I'm through with them, at least until the next time I want to have sex—”

“And you wonder why I never slept with you.”

“—but this guy … I wasn’t hurrying to leave the room. And it wasn’t just because you and Blaine were doing God knows what in our suite. It was … I don't know how to describe it. Like, the noise that's usually crowding my head was gone. I wasn't thinking about work or the things I would need to do today or going through a point-by-point postgame breakdown to compare him to my previous fucks or glean learning points for my arsenal of future sex strategies.”

“Were you high?”

“No! I wasn't high! I don't do drugs when I'm traveling in authoritarian states.”

“Just thought I'd check.”

“And he kept looking at my face, and I admit, I do have a great looking face, but usually it's weird to look at each other's faces too much when you're having sex—”

“It is?”

“—but it didn’t feel weird. Which was weird in itself. It was weird and it should have been a total turn off—”

“Really?”

“—but it just felt ... what's the word?”

“Good?”

“Something like that. So I … I stayed. And I fell asleep. And when I woke up he asked if I wanted to have breakfast, and I … I said yes. I've never said yes to breakfast. And I went back to our suite to change, which gave me the perfect opportunity to stand him up, but did I stand him up? No.  Because I … I wanted to talk to him. How crazy is that?”

“For you? It sounds pretty crazy.” Since Kurt had met Sebastian half a lifetime ago, he had come to rely on the fact that, no matter how many months or years passed between them seeing each other, Sebastian never changed. Now, suddenly, Sebastian was changing. Kurt wasn't sure what to do with that. “So, are you going to tell me anything about this guy? What makes him so magical?”

“No. I don't want to curse it. Not that there's much to curse. I mean, I've known him for less than twenty-four hours. And he lives on this side of the pond. I'll be lucky if this lasts the full two weeks of the games.”

“Still, that's new for you, wanting something to last even that long. You're a different man than the one I thought you were, Sebastian Smythe.”

“That goes for both of us.”

[sophie-jane-silver]

Neil died exactly 7 years before Walt Disney, and 14 years before homosexualty wasn't considered as mental illness

It is also international tea day

[midnight-mourning]

What's This?

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 4❄️❄️

Sorry for the lateness! Busy few days and then realized I needed to take some time for myself and make something I enjoy, so finished this finally.

Prompt: Maybe someone teaching Moon what christmas is? My moon just recently became 'sentient' and so doesn't understand alot of things yet! So he'd have no idea what christmas is! I think it'd be cute. Doesn't have to be my Moon, of course. Just the idea that Sun hasn't told him for some reason, so someone else has to!

Word Count: 1239

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"And put the tinsel here, here, and here!" Sun directs, point to various locations around the Daycare.

You chuckle, but follow his orders. 

The two of you were decorating for the holidays, and having found a box of decorations in the back of the Daycare's supply closet, Sun had gotten to work immediately. And had put you to work as well. Additionally, he had asked for you to order more supplies, wanting to spiff the place up as much as possible for the kids. He also mentioned wanting crafting materials for Christmas and holiday themed projects, so that was piled on to this order. 

You think his request for 30 boxes of candy canes was a little excessive, but the rest had all been reasonable and within budget. So, using what you had, and what you now had, to really go all out. 

You cut into another box, opening it to find fake holly and mistletoe, as well as a couple of wreaths. 

"So, any particular reason for this excess cheer this year?" You ask, taking the supplies out and setting them in a pile on a nearby table. 

At this, he clamps up for a moment, but then shakes his head. "Nothing specifically, it just seemed like a good opportunity! I needed ideas for the next few weeks for activities, why not do something to lift the holiday cheer!"

You think the answer was odd in its wording, but can't think of anything to say in response beyond, "Fair enough."

You're mid-decorating when the lights cut, as is usual for this time in the day. 

Without looking up from organizing colored paper and pipe cleaners, you wave in Moon's direction, "Hey, bud. You also in the Christmas spirit?"

No answer. 

You look up, and find Moon is entirely motionless. You would think he was powered off if not for the muted clicks and whirls you hear still emitting from him. 

You frown. "Moon, you alright?"

"I, what..." He tilts his head, and looks around. "What is all of this? Is something happening? Is there some, odd, birthday party occurring today?"

Your brows furrow, "Well, no. This is, these are Christmas decorations. I mean, holidays overall, but mainly for Christmas." 

He takes a step over to where tinsel is hung, picking it up between two fingers. His faceplate twists to the left, then the right. Then, he turns to you. 

"...Christmas?"

Now you're the one who's confused. 

"I, you mean, how do you—" You stop. "Moon, you don't know what Christmas is?"

He shakes his head slow. 

You clasp your hands in front of your mouth, eyes wide at the news. 

When you don't say anything, Moon seems to become apprehensive, chuckling awkwardly, "Should, should I?"

Realizing yourself, you shake your head slightly. Taking a deep breath, you break out into a grin, clapping your hands. 

"Oh, this is so fun! I can show you so many things and all the traditions. We can put up decorations together, watch movies, do some crafts, oh! We can bake cookies too! Though maybe that's not a good idea to do in the dark and—" You pause, noticing he's just staring at you completely lost. You clear your throat, speaking more slowly now. "Sorry, to answer your question, no not at all. I know you don't get a lot of exposure to everything, so it makes sense, though I don't know why Sun wouldn't—but ah, I'm so excited to tell you! If, if that's alright of course."

Moon tilts his head, and you're afraid you may have just overwhelmed him. You're about to apologize again when he laughs softly.

"I think I would like that, Star." There's a fondness to his words you can't place, it's gone when he seems to notice it himself. "If, you don't mind, that is."

You nod, eager, and can't help yourself as you rush over and take his hand, "I would be honored."

As you turn and lead him towards your grand pile of boxes and decorations, you don't know how fast his faceplate spins the moment after your hands make contact. 

You sit down and pat the spot next to you with your free hand, Moon following your lead after a moment. 

You shift so that you're sitting cross-legged across from him, and he does the same.

"Okay so..."

You start by explaining the origins of the holiday, what it means for different people, and how people celebrate depending on where they're from and such. You tell him all about every tradition you can think of, including the ones you personally do. 

Along the way, you notice Moon's body language shift from apprehensive and confused, to curious, to invested in what you say. It in turn fuels your own excitement as he asks you polite questions every so often, and you deliver every answer with as much detail as you can. 

You worry that you may be doing too much again though, so you mention such. "Sorry, I know this is a lot and I'm going super fast, I just, the holidays are really important to me you know?" Your voice grows soft and you look away, laughing shyly. "I um, I don't really get to spend them with many people anymore so I guess I just got super excited since we're friends and all. I'm probably boring you at this point aren't I? I can stop if this is a bit too much."

You start to feel embarrassment creep in. You'd been talking for ages now without stop, save for when he interjected every so often. For all you know Moon could be actually exhausted by how much you've had to say, it's kind of impossible to tell with that immobile faceplate of his. 

Color you surprised you feel a hand under your chin, turning your face back up to look at his. 

His eyes are narrowed gleefully, and his tone is soft as he gazes down at you. 

"You could never bore me, Star." He tilts his head. "You know that, right?"

Your eyes dart to the side, "I, um, I guess not, but still you must be—"

You suddenly find his face taking up your entire field of vision. And, after a moment's hesitation, he quickly plants his grin to your lips, then pulls back. "Whatever you may be thinking, it's quite the opposite. Seeing you so passionate it, it's contagious, and if I could I would ask you to never stop." 

Then, he looks away and folding his hands into his lap, making a sound similar to a cough. "Apologies I, I suppose I didn't know a better way to tell you then that. If you that was a step too far please, forgive me."

You however, are too busy trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck onto your face. 

You clear your throat. "Moon?"

"Hm?"

"If that's your way of explaining things, I wish you'd have started it sooner." Before you can think on it further, you reach up and grab his collar, pulling him back down to kiss him again. 

After a—much longer this time—kiss, you pull away, breathless. 

For a moment, Moon doesn't say anything. 

Then, "Perhaps now would be the time to ask you about hanging mistletoe around the Daycare?"

"I can think of a few good spots for it."

He chuckles, leaning in once more, "So can I."

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you to @zenkaiankoku for the request! I thought it was super adorable ^_^ Tried to do a mix of your AU with it (which is real cool btw, was reading through it like this 👀👀 the entire time lol) as well :) also had to make Moon a bit lovesick, I feel like suddenly becoming aware of yourself but having someone so willing to guide you would make anyone just fall in love hehe

If you're interested in requesting, you have until 12/13 OR until I recieve 31 requests, currently only have 13 total so plenty of space for more! See here for more details, thanks for reading!

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

[esilher]

Art: @esilher   Fic: @mynonah  Thank you so much @bossymarmalade for the quick beta reading! <3  You can read it on AO3

Winter Magic (Part 1)

“I think we have a problem with one of our customers, Boss.” Santana said to Blaine with a wry smile, leaning against the counter next to him. All the people waiting in line had finally been served and there was no one at the counter. Blaine continued to wipe the coffee machine without looking up at Santana.

“What do you mean?” He asked, although he wasn’t particularly bothered. Santana always had a problem with someone. She was an excellent worker, of course, otherwise Blaine wouldn’t have hired her to work in his coffee shop. Even though her attitude and manners could use some improvement...

“It’s Kurt.” Santana informed him.

“Kurt?” Blaine turned to Santana with a puzzled look on his face.

“Oh, come on!” She groaned. “You know exactly who it is. I’ve been watching you drool over him for months.”

“That’s not true, Santana.”

“You practically push me aside every time you see him waiting in line.”

Blaine gave Santana a disapproving look. “Do I have to remind you who pays your salary?”

“Your only condition was that I couldn’t be rude to the customers. Do you know how hard that is? But you’re not paying me to be blind.”

“Maybe I should.” Blaine retorted sharply.

Santana rolled her eyes. “Whatever. The point is,” she leaned closer, “there’s something wrong with him. You don’t think his orders are... strange?”

Yeah, well, Blaine thought... Some would call it strange. Blaine noticed it too, of course he did. He’d seen Kurt in his coffee shop before. Sometimes alone, sometimes with a very loud brunette. Yes, he remembered him clearly. Because regular customers were important for the business and because he was a good observer. Not because the guy looked gorgeous and always smiled so warmly at Blaine...

But for a while, Kurt had been coming in every day shortly after opening and always asking for the same thing. Their Winter Magic aka Rudolph’s Favorite specialty coffee, one of Blaine’s best-selling seasonal creations. He also asked for an espresso in a large paper cup and a glass of hot water. About 20 minutes later, he would order another espresso, this time decaf, and a glass of hot water. He would repeat his last order one more time before he left. Blaine assumed that Kurt added the water to the espresso, hence the large cup he always asked for. He couldn’t see it because Kurt always took a seat at the back of the shop. And even though the thought made him cringe (why not ask for a standard long black instead?), it wasn’t really any of his business.

“A bit strange what he usually orders, Santana, you’re right but…”

“Not usually, every day,” she corrected.

“But it’s none of our business,” Blaine shrugged.

Santana gave him a devilish smile. “Don’t be so sure about that, Boss!”

This time Blaine turned all the way to Santana, folded his arms and looked at her questioningly. He knew he wouldn’t get out of this pointless conversation until he heard what she had to say.

“I think he’s trying to steal your recipe,” she said excitedly.

“Excuse me?!” Blaine was shocked. He wasn’t expecting this craziness.

“As soon as he thinks we don’t see him anymore, he pulls a bunch of little jars out of his bag and a thermos with some whitish liquid in it. My guess is that those are spices in the jars and some kind of milk or herbal drink in the thermos," she said, grinning at Blaine.

“Could you please have a little less fun with your theory?” Blaine asked firmly.

“I’m trying, Boss, but it’s really hard. And it’s not a theory, I’ve seen it!” She replied excitedly before she continued. “Then, while sipping his Winter Magic, he starts stirring a brew. He repeats this twice more with the decaf espressos and then leaves. I suppose he does it without success for now, because he has always come back so far. So, Boss... He’s either mad and thinks he’s a wizard OR... he’s trying to steal your recipe.” At the end of the sentence, Santana had the biggest devilish grin on her face, obviously extremely proud of herself and having a really good time.

Blaine, on the other hand, was overcome with rage.

“Thank you, Santana,” he squeezed the words between his teeth and turned back to the coffee machine.

“That’s it?” Santana asked, putting her hands on her hips, disappointed. “No raise or anything?”

Blaine gave her a sharp look. “You can take the day off tomorrow,” he said, and the smile returned to Santana’s face. Blaine went back to the coffee machine and started to make a fresh espresso.

-

“Hi!” Blaine stopped by Kurt’s table a few minutes later.

“Hi, wow,” Kurt looked up at Blaine in surprise. “I was just about to ask for a…”

“Yeah, I know,” Blaine interrupted, putting the serving tray he was holding on the table. “Can I sit down?” 

Although Kurt opened his mouth to reply, Blaine had already taken a seat across from him before he could say anything. 

“Um... so I was just going to ask for some coffee…” Kurt started again, a little confused, but smiling.

“You know, that’s funny. I was about to ask you the same thing,” Blaine replied with a strained smile. He took the two glasses of hot water and the two cups of espresso from the tray and placed them in front of Kurt. “This one is the decaf,” Blaine pointed to the cup on the left, then leaned back and crossed his arms, looking expectantly at Kurt.

Kurt blinked at the two cups of coffee in front of him.

“I’m sorry, I… I don’t think I understand." He looked up at Blaine and tilted his head to the side.

“I want you to make me a coffee. Like you do for yourself every morning. In MY coffee shop.”

Kurt’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God.” He covered his face with his hands. “I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a total jerk.”

“I want you to make me a coffee.” Blaine repeated emphatically, and Kurt just noticed the man’s anger.

After a moment’s thought, Kurt started taking his equipment out of his bag; a thermos of warmed soy milk and the spices packed in small jars, even a shaker, and he started. When he was done, he pushed a cup of fake Winter Magic towards Blaine, who followed Kurt’s hands with a somber expression.

The barista stared at the cup for a while, motionless. Just as Kurt began to find the tension unbearable and thought about breaking the silence, Blaine finally reached for his drink. He took a sip of coffee and a humorless laugh escaped his lips as he placed it back on the table.

“So, where do you work?” He asked impatiently.

“What?” Kurt blinked at him.

“Where. Do. You. Work.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow, not understanding where this was coming from. Neither the question nor the attitude that seemed so out of character for this man. He decided to answer it anyway.

“At Vogue.”

Blaine blinked, confused. “Is that a new place?”

“Is that what?” Kurt frowned. “Vogue.com.” He knew he shouldn’t complain that the cute barista tried to talk to him, but this felt more like an interrogation. 

Then it suddenly hit him.

“Wait… You think I’m a spy?” Kurt’s eyes widened.

Blaine raised an eyebrow, and Kurt noticed the tension in Blaine’s body at the question.

“Aren’t you?” He asked harshly.

[aromanticasterisms]

the epic highs and lows of rereading your own writing to seek out parts you disliked and analyze Why you disliked them to do better in the future

[lulu2992]

Another “old” drawing!

John has something very important to say, something he hasn’t told anyone in years (or maybe ever; he can’t remember). It’s a short, simple sentence, but also a surprisingly hard one to say, so before Taylor actually hears it, he wants to practice...

Full story and context under the cut :)

So, basically, at this point in Taylor’s story, life is hard.

Because of the truce that was negotiated between Eden’s Gate and the Resistance, Hope County is now living in relative peace, at least for the moment. But for the Deputy who made it possible, that peace comes at a heavy cost.

The same people who used to sing her praises and count on her to make things better now (understandably) feel betrayed, hurt, and are angry at her for sparing John, so they either awkwardly avoid her and talk behind her back, or are openly aggressive and contemptuous. Some shame her for “using her body to buy peace”, even though that’s not quite true (they aren’t there yet in their relationship, and the cult has rules anyway).

And despite the fact that, because of the circumstances, she’s now closer to Eden’s Gate than she is to the Resistance, not all cultists trust her. Of course, they listen to Joseph, who said he had faith in Taylor, but some still (also understandably) remain cautious and are worried for their Herald in the Holland Valley. Is it safe to welcome the Deputy or does that heathen have ulterior motives? What if she’s only trying to use and pervert John so she can more easily destroy him and the Project?

For peace, the Junior Deputy had to sacrifice her reputation, has lost many of her friends, and now feels judged by almost everyone in Hope County, even some of those who still tolerate her. So yeah, life is hard.

But paradoxically, the more upset people are at her for growing closer to John, the harder their hatred pushes her into his arms. Soon, the Baptist becomes one of the few people she really trusts and feels allowed to be vulnerable around.

That afternoon, after a particularly difficult moment in Fall’s End, she drove to Seed Ranch, resolutely walked through the front door without saying a word, barely acknowledging the few cultists on her way, went straight to John… and burst into tears the moment she put her arms around him. After the initial surprise, he signaled to the confused guards that everything was okay, that they could leave the room, and just hugged her back in silence.

“Everyone hates me,” she said when her sobbing quieted down and she was finally able to speak.

“No… No, not everyone,” he replied. “There are... There are people who love you. You know that, don’t you?”

She loosened her embrace to look at him.

“That’s why you came here, right?” he asked, smiling tenderly.

She smiled back, but soon she noticed he seemed… uncomfortable. Powerless, even; unsure of what to say and how to deal with the situation. Suddenly, she felt guilty... She had come here because she needed a shoulder to cry on, but she hadn’t realized her sadness would affect him too.

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have come here and burdened you with that. I just- You probably have things to do, I should go...”

“No, wait!” he quickly responded, his hands tightening around her waist. “You can stay, it’s fine.”

She looked at him again, and he nodded before adding, “It’s fine. Really.”

She knew he wasn’t just offering her to spend the rest of the day at the ranch; he wanted her to, so she happily accepted.

That night, she fell asleep where she truly felt home: in John’s arms. Unbeknownst to her, for the first time, he told her something he knew he was ready to tell her, but not quite for her to hear yet; not before he was certain he could do it properly.

As she was peacefully sleeping, he whispered, “I love you.”

[star-named-riddle]

Day 30 - Dynasty

Lord Voldemort stood in Number 12, Grimmauld Place, contemplating an artifact he had heard about ever since he had entered Hogwarts, and joined the Slytherin table.

The Black family tree, magically weaved into a tapestry that had hung in this house for as long as the Blacks had lived in it. A proud display of their pure blood, scarred here and there by scorch marks. A dynasty, reaching back through time, to which every family worth of mention in Wizarding Britain was connected to.

The sons of Black carried their name, but it was their daughters that spread their blood, tangling everyone else’s into theirs.

He wondered if the Gaunts had ever owned such a thing, before their downfall. Not without disgust at what he had found his family to have become. A product of ill conceived inbreeding in a vain attempt to keep the blood of Salazar Slytherin pure. It had destroyed them, eating at both their sanity and their magic.

His blood boiled at the thought of what it had taken to produce a sane, magical Gaunt again. His eyes flashed red. He brought it all back under control.

There was another mind fast approaching. One he knew well, one who had sat through lessons with him. Orion Black.

“My Lord, the other guests have arrived,” he said, bowing only his head to him. “Would you follow me?”

It had taken him decades to be invited into the Black family ancestral home. Never as a school boy, never after Hogwarts while he worked at Borgin and Burkes. Only now, as an undisputed Dark Lord ascending, the Heir of Slytherin finally revealed to the pure blood elite, was he deemed worthy of being received by the Blacks.

Tonight, he was the guest of honour to a small group of wizards gathering for dinner. Tonight, his movement would start anew, bolstered by Orion’s blood and money.

As he walked side by side with Orion through the somber corridors of his house, his mind noticed others, keen on remaining undetected. He looked up as he walked past the staircase, and spotted five children spying him through the balustrade.

All heads recoiled back to the landing as his eyes met theirs. All but one, the eldest, a girl of large, hooded eyes and black curls. The oldest of Cygnus’ girls, he figured.

Lord Voldemort nodded discreetly to her, and only then did she retreat into the shadows.

A curious creature, undoubtedly drawn to the darkness, he thought. She was far too young, but maybe in a few years she would be willing to put the fervor he had seen in her towards his cause.

Later on AO3 (maybe tonight, if I wrangle the plot bunny of day 19 into submission)