#a fic a day in december

[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

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"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.

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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.

[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."

[sophiejanefostersilver]

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

[wowbright]

Chapter 13: Feeling

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

They didn’t end up at Garden of the Gods after their high tea. They toured the rest of Miramont Castle, Kurt expressing simultaneous delight and horror the building’s eclectic mishmash of Queen Anne, Romanesque, English Tudor, Venetian Gothic, Byzantine, and half a dozen other architectural styles. “I can't figure out any rhyme or reason to it. He just threw in whatever he liked with no regard for aesthetic unity. It's hideous. I love it! I mean, I could never live here. It's an architectural identity crisis. Two completely different styles of window in a single stairwell? It would kill me. But the audacity! The chutzpah! I hate his vision, but at least he had one.”

Just listening to Kurt made joy bubble up inside Blaine. Kurt was a delight. A force of nature. Blaine imagined how much more entertaining his visits to Turino and Vancouver, Tokyo and Sapporo and Nagano, Paris and Goyang and Gothenburg would have been with Kurt in tow, providing color commentary on all the sights and sounds and smells of each city, relishing even in the things that repelled him because their newness was enough to cause delight. He wished Kurt was going with him to Sochi. It was beautiful and strange and tacky and sad and utterly fascinating. Kurt would be so alive in it.

Almost a week later, they finally made it to Garden of the Gods. It had been a long week, the excitement of the looming games overshadowed too often by dull meetings, bickering between Sue and Sebastian, and that annoying young punk Sam Evans, who refused to let Blaine forget he had been named to the first spot, while Blaine only made it on the roster this Olympics because the third choice’s hip injury flared up after the nationals championships. Blaine tried to act like the adult he was and overlook the “gramps” and the “old man” and “Jar Jar” (because the first thing he’d said to Blaine upon arriving in Colorado Springs was “You’re kind of like Jar Jar Binks, though, aren’t you? Because nobody actually wanted you in the sequel.”) He kept telling himself that Sam was a kid who was clearly overcompensating for his insecurities about launching his senior career with the eyes of the entire world on him. Blaine had been sixteen once, and just as insecure.

On the other hand, Blaine hadn’t been an asshole. And he had never, ever thought it would be a good idea to waggle his hips on the ice like a second-rate nightclub stripper to a weird, saxophone-heavy instrumental mashup of Justin Bieber's greatest hits. When Blaine had politely suggested Sam tone down on the thrusting, the kid had come back with, “You’re not my coach, gramps. Sex sells. You’re just jealous because you’re an old geezer whose lost all his testosterone and his sex appeal.”

The kid was horned up and classless and, worst of all, rude. How was he competing for a spot in the team event with this brat?

But no. Blaine was not going to think about that. It was a perfect, sunny day, the light of the winter sun sloping through the red rock formations at low angles that painted crisp shadows against the snow.

Even better, he was here with Kurt Hummel: beautiful, delightful, amazing Kurt. They hadn't gotten nearly enough time together since the high tea—which means they saw each other every day but not all day, Blaine visiting the costume studio even when it wasn't strictly necessary, and Kurt hanging out at practices even when he might have been exploring the tourist spots, and eating meals together when they could (but very often not alone, thanks Sue and Sebastian and the entire U.S. figure skating team), and Blaine even inviting Kurt back to his apartment only to find that Mike and Kitty had formed an encampment in front of the television for a marathon session of watching the routines of every single competing pair they would face in Sochi. So he and Kurt had joined them instead of enjoying a quiet dinner like Blaine had planned and maybe, if Blaine was allowed to dream, enjoying each other in a different way that Blaine had to stop himself from imagining every time Kurt helped him remove the latest iteration of his costume.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Kurt said as they made their way down the trail between two towering pillars of vividly striped rock. “I never would have thought to come on my own.”

“No?”

Kurt shrugged. “City boy. I forget it can be nice to be out in nature. I mean, I could do without feeling like my nose is about to fall off my face, but it really is pretty. And quiet. And …” he sighed contentedly.

“Here. I wouldn't want your nose to disappear.” Blaine tugged his scarf from his neck and draped it around Kurt’s, folding it gently to form a pocket of warm air over Kurt’s lower face. It felt both bold and easy—easy because they had stood this close many times as Kurt measured Blaine’s body or draped fabric over it or adjusted this and that bit of his costume, so that sharing such a close space had become second nature; bold because it was now Blaine doing the reaching out and touching.

“Usually, I would complain about this not coordinating with my carefully curated ensemble. But it's Burberry. And cashmere. So I’ll make an exception.” Kurt's eyes danced above the fabric, a dazzling contrast of blue and green above the pale yellows and grays of the checked scarf. “But what about your nose?”

In answer, Blaine reached into his collar and pulled the fabric of this turtleneck up over his chin. It was long enough that he could cover his whole face with it if he wanted to. He had, in fact, chosen it in the very hope that he might lose his scarf to Kurt. “I came prepared for every possibility.”

Kurt smiled. Blaine couldn't see his mouth of course, but he could see his eyes and the way they narrowed as Kurt’s cheekbones lifted, the skin on the outer edges crinkling into deep, happy furrows.

“You’re …” Blaine started to say, but the words caught in his throat. That’s how beautiful Kurt was. It made Blaine forget how to speak.

“I’m …?” Kurt said—curiously, not flirtatiously. He clearly had no idea what was going on inside Blaine at this moment.

Blaine shook his head to loosen his tongue. It only half worked. He couldn't get the words I out that he’d meant to. But the ones he spoke were perhaps even more inspired. “I want you in Sochi with me.”

Kurt stopped in his tracks.

“I mean, if you're free. If you want to. If you—” Was this another case of Blaine diving into concrete? It had really looked like water to him. “I fully trust you can get everything done before we go, but I think … I think I would feel better having you there. You're the only one who—”

“—knows the costumes well enough to fix them if you need any last-minute repairs?”

That was not what Blaine had been trying to say, but it was true. “Yes. And you understand my vision. Besides … seeing you at Miramont Castle, I couldn't help but think how much you would enjoy yourself there.”

Kurt’s eyes went wide. “You’ve been there before? And it’s transcendently tacky?”

“Only parts of it,” Blaine chuckled. “It’s mostly because you appreciate things that are … different, or— I don’t know. You just appreciate things in a way I’ve never seen anyone do before. And I … I just thought, we really should have you there anyway, because what if something changes? What if I hear something or feel something new and I have a sudden fit of artistic inspiration and you’re not there to help me bring it to life? And then I go do my programs and yes, of course the costumes are beautiful, because you made them, and they say most of the things I wanted to say, but there’s something else and … ” Blaine looked down at the dirt peeking through the tracks in the snow. He was so frustrated with himself. He wasn’t making himself clear at all. He probably sounded crazy. A needy prima donna demanding too much. “We’ll pay you, of course. And flights and lodgings and meals. An interpreter if you want. I know it must be an incredible inconvenience. But you’re so inspiring and …”

Blaine looked up. And Kurt was there, looking back at him. Blaine saw the answer in his eyes. Kurt was right there with him. He didn't think Blaine was crazy at all. “I'd love to go,” Kurt said quietly, his voice gentle and reassuring like the waves lapping up on Cabrillo Beach at low tide. He tugged Blaine’s arm, and pulled him forward, and Blaine’s heart started to pound out of his chest because he wanted to kiss Kurt so badly but also maybe he should have had a Tic Tac first and also would Kurt think that his bubble gum-flavored chapstick was gross and also there was a group of gruff evangelical conservatives just 50 yards ahead, and the one who looked like he was in the military was loudly explaining how the sedimentary lines were all formed in the great flood of Genesis 6 through 9 and—

It turned out Kurt’s face was not the destination he had intended for Blaine. Because Kurt stepped forward too, or backward—well, in the same direction Blaine was moving, so that they stayed the same distance apart—and Blaine realized that they were not kissing in the brilliant winter sun of the Garden of the Gods. They were walking again.

“So,” Kurt said. “How many times have you been to Sochi?”

It took a moment for Blaine to regain his bearings. He had to replay the question twice in his brain in order to understand it. “I've been to the Russia lots. But Sochi only once. The Grand Prix was held there last season.”

“Ah,” Kurt said with a tone of—disappointment? Not in Blaine, but like he had made some sort of faux pas. “I should probably know that.”

Oh. Blaine didn’t like the expression on Kurt’s face. It was almost sad. He never wanted Kurt to be sad. He stepped a little closer to Kurt, let their shoulders brush. “I kind of like that you don’t.”

Kurt still looked kind of sad. But also curious. “Is it hard?”

“What?”

“People knowing so much about you before you’ve even met them.”

It was and it wasn't. Blaine had spent so much of his life in the limelight that he had become used to it. And it wasn't like he was Brad Pitt or Obama or the Pope. He didn't get recognized by every single person every single place he went. The times when it was hard was when people thought they already knew him—when they filtered everything he said and did through the picture of him they had already built in their minds based on public appearances and TV broadcasts and news clippings—when nothing he said or did could surprise them, because they had already decided not to be surprised.

“Nobody knows who I am before I've met them,” Blaine said. “Sometimes they don't even know after they've met me.”

Kurt was silent. Blaine listened to the sound of their shoes crunching against the snow.

“I hope I don't make you feel like that,” Kurt said.

Blaine’s campaign to cheer Kurt up was totally failing. He could do better. “You don't make me feel like that at all, Kurt. You make me feel like … Talking to you, it feels like … like I’m new. To you. And to me, too. And you’re new, and fascinating, and … it’s like I'm discovering a part of the world that was always there but I never knew existed. Even myself, when we talk, when you ask me questions and you listen—you really listen, Kurt, you make me feel like the things I say are actually interesting and surprising and even delightful—it’s like I'm remembering things I forgot about myself or never even knew.”

Blaine looked at Kurt, and for the first time since he had draped Kurt in his scarf, he wished he could see more of Kurt’s face. There was something in Kurt’s eyes that Blaine felt like he would be just on the edge of understanding, if only he could see more.

“You are interesting and surprising and delightful,” Kurt said solemnly. “And you make me feel that way too.” He glanced over his shoulder before giving Blaine’s hand a quick squeeze, then let go. In a low whisper, he added, “I want it to be out in the open, though. I might not have been a super fan who tracked your every media mention in elaborately decorated scrapbooks and curated Delicio.us lists. But I did have some preconceived notions about you.”

A tiny flutter like panic quickened in Blaine’s chest. What if they were bad? No, he was being stupid. He knew it was stupid. Kurt's tone was soft, silky, alluring. That wasn't the voice of someone who was about to say something mean to you. And even if Kurt used to think bad things about him, it shouldn't matter, because Kurt certainly seemed to like him okay now. But still— Blaine made a quick verbal counter turn. “Well, I had some ideas about you, too.”

“You didn't know who I was.”

“Not for as long as you knew about me, but I saw your portfolio, and it spoke to me. And Sebastian told me some things.”

“Oh, Christ on a cracker. That couldn't have been good.”

“Quite the opposite. He told me you were dedicated and hardworking and witty, and that you always stuck to your principles, and that I should trust you, because he trusted you, and he does not trust very many people.”

“Really? Sebastian said all that?”

“Really. It was so glowing that—” Despite the cold, Blaine felt heat rising to his cheeks. “I asked him if he had feelings for you.”

The scarf loosened around Kurt’s face as he wrinkled up his nose. “Oh. God, no. It's never been like that with us.”

“That's what he told me. I believe the exact words were something like ‘Don't get me wrong, I would totally bang him if he would just uncross his legs for two seconds and let me, but the difference between you and me, Blaine, is that I know the difference between romance and sex.’”

“Sounds like Sebastian,” Kurt said. Well, at least the Sebastian he had known all his life until the previous Sunday morning. Apparently for the new Sebastian, romance and sex were starting to overlap, at least a tiny bit. “And I'm sorry he told you so many lies about me.”

“You know they aren’t, Kurt. You're all that, and then some.”

“Well, then.” Kurt looked away, his eyes batting like Bambi’s. He was so adorable when he was flummoxed. “You subject me to all that overwhelming flattery, but you won’t let me tell you my preformed impressions of you?”

Ah. So Kurt had noticed the counter turn. Apparently he was getting to know Blaine even better than Blaine had thought. Blaine momentarily closed his eyes against the bright sun and took a deep breath. “Okay, fine. Hit me with your worst.”

“Well, you're a wonderful skater, obviously. I mean, I know that can’t mean anything to you coming from me, I don't have the expertise to judge but ... I always feel something when I watch you skate. Figure skating doesn't always feel like art to me—maybe that's why I've focused more on costuming for ice dance until now—but it does, when I watch you. You have all this ... generosity and passion inside of you, and it spills out onto the ice. It's mesmerizing. And not just because you're incredibly good-looking.”

Blaine made a sharp inhale. “You think I'm good-looking?” He was not being coy. He was, on some level, honestly surprised. Even though they’d been flirting, even though he knew Kurt felt something about him on some level because he’d pretty much said so not three minutes ago, it felt revelatory. To have the words spoken—that made it real. Kurt Hummel, the most beautiful man the world had ever seen, thought Blaine Anderson was visually appealing.

Kurt laughed. “Well, yes. That's one of the other prejudices I might have brought into our first meeting.”

“I think I'm okay with that,” Blaine said, delight coiling his muscles. “Though you’ve seen me without make-up on now. And exhausted. And impatient with Sue. So I suppose I’ve managed to dissuade you a bit from your previous position.”

“Oh, no,” Kurt said—only it didn't really sound like words, but more like breath, or the sound of the air breezing through a crack in the rocks. “I find you quite attractive. Much more than I ever could have imagined anyone to be.”

[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!

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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.

[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.”

[duskspring]

A Picnic and Magic - Ghouls&Human Children

Domestic December- Day 19

Summary: The Clergy hosts a picnic to teach its children about the ghouls

Content (do let me know if I forgot anything!): No dialogue, they/them AND chronically ill Zephyr

Word count: ~1.2k

The Ministry saw a lot of new faces each year. Yes, most new recruits came with the success of the Ghost Project, but there was also a portion of children being born into it by Siblings of Sin. And although some new parents chose to leave the abbey after birth, others wanted their kids to grow up there.

The grounds housed a second, smaller building for families, one where children wouldn’t be exposed to some of the more egregious sinning by accident and where they could attend various classes.

Raising those kids at the ministry did come with a few challenges, mainly their understanding of the ghouls. At first, most kids either didn’t understand or flat out feared them. Thus, the upper clergy had to come up with a solution.

The plan was simple, on one particular warm summer day there would be a picnic for all to attend, where the ghouls would get a chance to interact with the children and try to win them over with the use of their powers.

Although not everyone got to attend. More stoic, quick tempered or sensitive ghouls had been kindly asked to not show up. At least not on that day, but maybe next time. The kids had to be eased into it, you see. Most of them didn’t complain, not minding the lack of responsibility towards the most frail individuals.

Another hurdle came with their masks. A real discussion was raised of if the children would be more afraid of the masks or their glamoured forms. Eventually it was decided into a split, where if there was more than one ghoul representing an element, one of them would be wearing their mask.

Different parts of the grass field were dedicated to said elements. Children were encouraged to visit them all by means of offering a variety of foods and games at each section, as well as a showcase of the ghouls’ powers of course. For every ghoul there was a sign with some basic facts about them, to humanize them further in the eyes of the kids.

At the water section it was just Rain. Although six more (partially) water ghouls walked the ministry halls, all had been deemed either too scary or too… Dewdrop. Still, he was excited to show off a bit, and most of his fellow ghouls came to stand with him from time to time. Especially Ifrit who also stood alone.

He was mostly in charge of keeping everyone cool by, when given permission, summoning splashes of water to spray people with. He did so mostly by conjuring it from his index fingers while he held his hands in gun gestures.

As stated, Ifrit was the second lonesome ghoul. Once again, the other fire ghouls were either too scary or too… Dewdrop.

He was acting like a firebreather, but mostly summoned shapes and letters of fire in the air, spelling out kids’ names, much to their amazement. Although he was the most directly dangerous, he made sure everyone stayed at a safe distance.

Omega and Aether worked together to represent the quintessence element. Phantom had been considered as well, since he mostly came across as harmless, but his packmates knew he would probably get overwhelmed very fast.

Quintessence was a hard element to show off physically, so they mostly helped hurt kids feel better or read their emotions, in an attempt to impress.

Omega was already more well known, helping out families from time to time and having been there for the delivery of most of the children. Many asked to hug him as a familiar, which he never minded. He’d accidentally turned into the posterghoul for all of them; someone friendly and approachable, who would help you out in times of need.

Mountain and Pebble showed off plants and flowers they’d helped grow and even summoned some brand new ones on the spot to hand out. Most children, however, only focused on giggling about their height difference. The smaller of the two was not at all amused at first, but got less annoyed at it throughout the day, while the other kept awkwardly trying to laugh it off.

And finally there was air. Zephyr, Cirrus and Cumulus had been easy picks, since they were already known among adults as nice and calm individuals. As part of the older generation of ghouls, the only missing air ghoul had always been less concerned with being family friendly, although Secondo did drill into his mind that he should try his best not to scare anyone. Still, it was best for him to sit this day out.

The present three worked together very carefully to raise some of the children a little bit off the ground. Their small feet dangled maybe a few inches high at most, but every last one was ecstatic. Most of them ran to their friends afterwards, telling anyone who would listen that they had just flyed.

There was no representation for multi ghouls that day. Copia had tried to explain to Swiss as kindly as possible that his smile would probably scare the kids more than comfort them. And Aurora still hadn’t properly adjusted to interacting with adults, let alone children.

As the day progressed, even some of the more cautious kids had at least admired the ghouls from afar. All parents were very supportive of them, encouraging them to approach the ghouls and telling them they were all friendly.

Every last ghoul had been popular with someone throughout the day. Some kids had jokingly retaliated against Rain by getting their own water guns and it turned into a whole game of him versus the children, where they would oh and ah when he managed to stop a spray midair.

Some other kids had discovered Ifrit’s functionality as a jungle gym, and were climbing up to his shoulders and hanging from his outstretched arms. All the while he stayed very still, treating it as a work out to try and keep them all up.

Omega had already been liked, but when it got time for the kids to go home that sentiment had spread to Aether as well. He’d probably be able to help out in the family infirmary from that point on as well, something he felt immense pride for.

Pebble ended up getting his hair braided by two little girls, summoning flowers Mountain suggested for them to weave through it.

Zephyr had gotten quite a few questions about their wheelchair in the blunt, frankly rude way that children asked questions about those sorts of things. They’d answered them in as simple terms as possible, kindly correcting anyone who had accidentally said something distasteful.

Cirrus and Cumulus had started singing a few songs throughout the day, getting a small choir of children together and helping them sound their best. A few of them asked to receive vocal lessons more often, and although Cirrus was a bit nervous about interacting with such young kids so much, Cumulus was nothing but excited to make it a reality.

Eventually the time came for everyone to go have dinner. The ghouls all got a lot of goodbye hugs, and although the day was a fun success, they were all glad to finally get a break again.

Needless to say, the picnic worked wonders, with the Clergy already trying to plan the next one.

[My Main Masterlist | Domestic December Masterlist]

[hidey-writes]

wip wednesday

In the drifting silence of his empty apartment, Shen Wei presses the door shut, turns the lock. And then, like his body was waiting until he was alone, his legs give out. Shen Wei tips/topples against/into the wall, sinks down to sitting on the front mat/in the entryway. He sits there for a long time, curled into himself with his arms around his knees. The whole time, his body braced for the sound of Zhao Yunlan’s door opening, the sound of footsteps crossing the hall. Waiting, again, for Kunlun to return to him.  But no sound comes from outside his door. At last, Shen Wei tips his head back against the wall, lets out a soft, streaming sigh. The sound trembles in the still air. It’s the closest he’s come to crying in years, that he can remember.

from the up draft of the answer fic. im cutting it veryyyyyy close to the deadline this time ahahaha (nervous!) but the writing is going relatively smoothly (knocks on wood) and i think it'll turn out pretty delicious!!

[star-named-riddle]

Something wicked this way comes...

I have certain unfinished matters concerning December, and my plot bunnies have awakened.

[moregraceful]

winner's room harper is up 👍