#bea’s 1k

[caribaheine]

i just hit 1k so here’s a little follow forever/mutual appreciation! thank you so much to all my lovely followers and mutuals, i can’t believe it!! i’ve tried to include as many people as i can think of but so sorry if i’ve missed anyone ♡

+ moots can send a 🌸 for a blog compliment!

a b c d

@aimlocked @aino-minakos @allidoistry @another-aveng3r @anyataylorjjoy

@arobarbie @backmygirlhood @bella-not-swan @bhxrdy @blackpink

@blueslemonade @blushingallthewayhome @b0lter @brittritz @bruceewayne

@burkleswinifred @cheekymcgrath @chjhiro @claudiasjessies @cleveris

@clubglee @cressida-cowper @daisyjohnsn @danielsousa @davidfinchrr

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@dragonss-in-the-north

e f g h i

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j k l m n o

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p q r s

@peterfelicias @pinksvenom @quitebewitching @radicaloptimisms @raisy

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@slvrroses @snowbairdd @someoneoffthestreet @stararry @stardustandors

@starswerealigned @sunsetskys

t u v w x y z

@taylorcardigan @taylorsabrina @taylorswiftsthighs @therealwitch @timelesstaylorsversion

@tisdae @trainingseasons @usereste @vorpalinas @whenhewaswickeds

@williamprvtt @youareonyourownkid @yourfreezing-hands @yournowheregirl @yuiaka

@zensdaya

[gregorovitch-adler]

Translation: Junior, I have told you several times that Lily prefers to be single, remember?

Lily is the new aroace icon. That's all.

[portraitdelajeunefilleenfeu]

@metaldamage ! #Avatrice #WarriorNun #SaveWarriorNun

[smokestarrules]

this scene just makes me so insane, the way Michael is Right There and neither of them pay him any attention at all until he speaks up, the way they’re so attuned to each other. 

Beatrice having just gotten her back, holding onto her with both hands. 

[bereaving]

“I just... sometimes get the feeling that you don’t like it when I make new friends.” “That’s absurd.”

[beas-whump-blog]

@chrumblr-whumblr day 3! The prompt is "carrying".

Fandom: Epic (2013)

-

Ronin flew through the boggan base at speeds that would have impressed even Nod. Every so often he came across a boggan or two that spotted him quick enough to try and fight, but they posed no challenge. Or maybe they did. He was so focused on his mission, it was all a blur.

He hated Wrathwood.

He was heading for the lowest level of the enemy's stronghold, knowing that's where he'd find what he was looking for. It was a trap, he was certain, and he was walking right into it. He had to. Mandrake had gone too far this time.

Ronin finally jumped off his shimmering mount as he reached the lowermost level, not waiting for the bird to land before leaping to the ground.

“Nod,” he hissed, making his way down the long tunnel, peering into cells made of metal and rotting tree roots. “Nod, where are you?”

He was in such a hurry he almost missed the slight gleam of green armor in one corner of a cell, and a person-shaped lump in the other. He pulled out an arrow and used it to saw away at the weakest root he could find.

Crude, but effective.

He shoved the two pieces of root out of his way and rushed to the back of the cell, kneeling before a familiar figure.

“Nod,” he whispered, rolling him gently onto his back. “Nod, wake up. We have to go.”

The boy groaned softly, not opening his eyes.

“…Dad?” he mumbled, and Ronin almost smiled, brushing the boy's matted hair out of his eyes and wincing at the blue and purple bruises that marred his face.

“Not quite. Come on, we need to get out of here.”

Nod’s eyes cracked open, seemingly struggling to focus on the man before him.

“…Ronin? What are you doing here?”

“Saving your sorry self, what does it look like?”

Nod shook his head as he gained some clarity.

“No, you don't get it. You can't be here, Ronin, it's a trap. Mandrake doesn't care about me, he wants you!”

Ronin just looked at him.

“Are you done?”

“Ronin, I'm serious! You have to believe me, you-” he stopped as he understood Ronin's unfazed expression. “You knew.”

“I didn't earn the rank of Commander by being an idiot, Nod.”

“No, just by being cozy with the queen,” he retorted. “But then… why are you here?”

“See, that's why you quit the leafmen. You have no concept of anybody caring for anyone other than themselves. Well guess what kid, I lost your father in this hellhole and I'm not about to lose you.”

Nod was silent for a moment, then grinned slightly.

“Man, I knew you were getting old, but seriously? Ronin, what happened? You're getting emotional! I think it may be time you considered retirement.”

“You’re just asking to be left behind, aren't you?”

“Alright, sorry! Touchy subject, I see.”

Ronin shook his head.

“If you weren't as injured as you are, I'd smack you all the way to Moonhaven.”

“And if you weren't as old and weak as you are, I might actually bother to try and stop you.”

“Can you walk?” Ronin asked, electing to ignore that last comment.

“Hm? Yeah, yeah, I can walk. Just gimme a sec.” He tried to sit up and winced with a shout of pain.

“Oh, you can walk, can you?” Ronin couldn't resist asking.

Nod glared.

“I'll manage.”

“And waste time getting out of here? I don't think so.”

Ronin slid his arms under Nod’s back and knees and got to his feet, stumbling slightly.

“Hey, careful!” Nod exclaimed painfully. “I can do it, put me down!”

“No time,” Ronin said curtly, carrying him out. “What have you been eating, pebbles?” he asked when Nod turned out to be much heavier than he'd expected.

“You're hilarious, old man,” Nod said through gritted teeth, trying not to cry out in pain.

Ronin placed the boy on the back of his hummingbird, and he slumped forward as he climbed on behind him.

“Y’know… I didn't think you were coming,” Nod admitted as they took off.

“We're leafmen, Nod, we look out for each other. Not that you ever took that lesson to heart.”

“You don't get to use that anyway. I quit, remember?”

Ronin nodded.

“Fine, then how about you and me? We look out for each other.”

Nod was quiet, then nodded.

“I think I can work with that.”

[two-person-job]

alexis you have me writing essays and I couldn't be happier to do so

[letters-from-an-introvert]

-I'm gonna blow your mind right now. Wanna know how?- The pretty girl was asking something. Beatrice should answer, she knew that, but Ava was looking at her so intensely that Beatrice couldn't keep her gaze. Instead, she turned to see the wall that was still too white. Beatrice couldn't have expected what came next 'cause the cute girl in front of her was kissing her cheek. 

[daisychainsandbowties]

sometimes i’m like wow why am i such a slow writer and then i spent two hours writing about chocolate production in star wars for one (1) stupid gay detail in this fic and i’m like ooooh right that’s why 🫠

[masivechaos]

the same deep water as you - send me this -> i'll make a moodboard based on how i view you! (moots only)

:)))) ik we aren’t SUPER close buttt i feel like ive alr put myself out there enough already 😭😭

*ೃ༄ dal's moodboard!

-> cats. oversized jumpers. plants. earth tones. candles. converses. the scent of books. stars. painting and drawing. guitars.

[forlovvers]

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ten thirty six

pair: fling!sunghoon x gn!reader | genre: fluff ? angst ? | warning(s): kissing | wc: 600 | synopsis: in which you accidentally fall for your fling.

lynne’s notez🗒️: he’s a ten but he’s a man😞 for @jlheon ’s 1k event !! this was so hard to write idk why >< but hopefully i did bea and this event justice

“no strings attached,” that was the agreement when you first met sunghoon. but you find yourself in his room, your shirts in his drawers, your shampoo in his hair, your hands in his. flings are such a weird thing, especially when you know it’s not permanent. you know eventually he’ll leave your dreams and escape to the world stage where he wants to be. 

“you okay?” sunghoon stands in front of you, with dripping wet hair and a towel around his neck. his words are slightly disoriented due to the toothbrush held in his mouth. “you spaced out for a couple minutes.” his expression forms into concern as he steps closer to you. you can smell the faint scent of his cologne and your strawberry conditioner mixing together. 

“stop using my conditioner, i keep having to buy more.” you say, ignoring his previous comment and standing up to reach up and place your arms around his neck. 

“but it smells like you,” he smiles softly, leaning down to press a kiss onto your lips, only to leave toothpaste residue on your lips. 

“hoon!” you back up, wiping it off with the back of your hand. sunghoon lets out a laugh as he disappears back into the bathroom. 

you hear the sink start running again and sunghoon spitting out the last of the toothpaste. “we’re going out to eat tomorrow at that new thai place. wanna come with us?” sunghoon reappears from the bathroom and leans against the doorframe, studying your expression. he watches as you lift the sheets and vanish under them. 

“i don’t know, i always feel like i’m intruding or something.” you say, sitting up to get a better look at him. you always loved him like this—barefaced, messy hair and yours for the night. 

“you’re not. my friends like you, you know?” sunghoon slides into bed next to you, his head resting on your shoulder. “maybe even too much. just need you all to myself.” he turns to place frenzied kisses on your lips then your cheeks, and trailing down to your neck. you let out a giggle when his breath feels ticklish on your neck, and you can feel him smile against your skin. 

you find it scary how easy it is to fall into routine with sunghoon. how scary it is to be so accustomed to waking up next to him and having him on your arm, and being with him.  

“angel?” the nickname still makes your heart soar. “are you okay? you seem worried about something.” there’s more concern evident in his tone.

“i just—” you hesitate to continue and when you do, sunghoon’s hand finds yours, his thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your skin. “isn’t your tour coming up soon?”

his brows crease in confusion. “yeah it is. is something wrong with that?”

“i just don’t know if we should continue this if you’re gonna be away for so long.” when the words finally leave your lips, you can feel his gaze heavily lingering on you. 

“oh. i guess that is a problem.” sunghoon gulps unsurely and his grip on your hand loosens. it’s silent for a couple seconds before he speaks again. “maybe we should sleep on it, and talk again in the morning?”

your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you nod in agreement. he wraps his arms around you and brings you under the covers, making sure you get plenty of blanket. once the lights are off, he presses a small kiss to your forehead. “let’s just enjoy this for now.” 

[caribaheine]

congrats bea on your 1k ! ! ! 🌸 <3

hi simone, tysm!! i love your blog and mobile theme, especially your header, it’s so pretty!

[tyunni]

🦢̼ࣳ 10:36ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ( you're just a warm body to hold , at night when i'm feeling all alone )

Genre (𝐈): heeseung x fem!reader , angst , exes 2 nothing. Warnings (𝐈𝐈): toxic relationship , y/n is overly obsessed with heeseung , mentions of somewhat making out? not properly proofread so there might be grammar mistakes ! Word Count (𝐈𝐈𝐈): 1k+;

𝒜uthors note: 2 may posts in a row is absolutely mind boggling! this is for @jlheon 's bea event, very fun to write! (i'm not quite sure if I'm past the due date, if i am just consider this a normal drabble! today is my last exam so i was busy all day yesterday ㅠㅠ)

Laying in your bed at 10:36 PM, your eyes brimmed to the top with hot tears that feel almost as heavy resting atop your bottom eyelashes as the feeling of your sinking heart is when you finally realize that love is, indeed, pain.

You think about him. He and his beautiful, round, chocolate eyes that once looked at you so curiously despite the bags under weighing them down, how his slanted nose turned red when the cold air hit his face, how soft he felt under your fingertips when you traced each and every one of his features. Back then you felt as though every dent and imperfection in your fingerprints fit perfectly against the texture of his skin, connecting like puzzle pieces every time you stopped the motion of your wrists and rested your palm against his cheek, your own curious eyes greedily taking in every little detail about the boy in front of you. His ravishing, charming smile that would make its way onto his face when he caught you admiring the shape of his lips was far too alluring for you to notice the slight twitch of his eyebrows, a saddened expression replacing the one of mischief and genuine desire of fun.

That’s all you were to him, fun. But to you, he was everything. The way he would smile against your skin, his big hands resting on the small of your back as his guidance towards his lap ended victoriously, with you situating yourself on his thighs and giggling at the ticklish feeling of his dark locks dancing against your sensitive neck. The thought of that, back when Heeseung was still yours, usually made your heart flutter and your knees go weak, but now that it’s nothing but a memory, the same butterflies that would roam around your stomach happily now gnaw at the enclosure and slowly climb up your throat, your palm swiftly slapping against your mouth to stop them from escaping. Dizziness and nausea came naturally after your mind would get flooded with the thoughts of Heeseung, you felt every symptom of food poisoning in the wake of swallowing Heeseung’s rotten heart with a proud smile on your face. You felt sick, love sick.

After an hour of laying in bed, trying to drown your sorrows with your own tears, you decide to call him. The past month you had had your ex, if you could even call him that, on dial almost every night, his warm embrace like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. Your shakey digits press against the numbers on your screen, and with just one click you were officially crawling right back to him. Heeseung decline your call, which means he’s on his way to you, again. You need him, again. He’ll come over and lull you to sleep with his soft touches, again. Next morning you’re going to wake up to an empty bed and pretend this never happened, again.

After a while you can hear the creaking of your door, indicating Heeseung has entered your room and has returned to you.

“y/n,” you feel your bed sink as he sits right beside your balled-up form, letting out a deep sigh at the all too familiar situation. “We can’t keep doing this, y/n.”

He had said those exact words the night before, and the night before that too, but this time it feels different. This time you know he’s right.

“I know…” your croaky voice seems to be only tugging at your own heartstrings this time, only you feel sorry for yourself. Sorry for the sad, depressing joke of a human you had become after corrupting and molding yourself into nothing but a heart that beats for another, lungs that breathe for someone else, and a mind that slaves away only thinking about one person.

Heeseung kicks his shoes off, climbing into your sheets, body facing you, “this is the last time, okay?” his finger finds its way under your chin, tilting it upwards for you to face him. You look into his eyes, you see nothing. It’s empty, he has lost all feelings for you, even the feeling of pity that you were so desperately clinging onto, disgusted with the shell of a person you had become in the process. You had lost him, completely this time.

“‘Kay…” you sigh, the breath you let out a mixture of relief and sadness as you sink into his arms and feel your skin bleed into his own for the last time. For once, you don’t melt under his touch, for the little warmth he secretly held for you has now completely evaporated and instead replaced itself with the ice-cold wall he had put up between you two despite your bodies remaining pressed up against each other.

He kisses the crown of your head, leaving a light peck on your forehead right after. “Goodnight, y/n…”

You look up at him slightly, The lovey-dovey nicknames he once called you had completely left his vocabulary tonight, instead your name fell past his once-red lips that seemed to have turned blue under the low illuminance of your nightlight. You feel alone, even with the one you desire right in front of you. His arms wrapped around you hold no weight to them, only your blanket keeping your body warm. Yet you still hold on. You clutch onto him dearly, sobbing into his chest, your hands that had the hem of his t-shirt balled up into a fist now roam around his back as you pull yourself impossibly closer to him, your lips find their way towards Heeseung’s to capture them for the last time, desperately swiping your tongue against his lower lip for him to let you in and dance his tongue against yours, but he doesn’t.

And now you know, you understand, that you’re holding onto a pale, ghostly, blue corpse.

You pull away from him after you feel his almost bony fingers gently stroke your hair. He shushes you, pulling you closer to him and humming a soft melody that can only be described as the requiem of your love, with no one but you to adorn yourself with the color black, cry and pray for it, and watch its casket get buried six feet underground.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

[portraitdelajeunefilleenfeu]

@metaldamage 💋 #Avatrice

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hii!

I just came across your empress work with kylo ren and i absolutely loved it.

But i was wondering...

Could you maybe write something like that but with kylo marring a jedi reader to restore balance and peace to the galaxy?

Say That Again

"-- say it," Kylo mutters. His voice becomes shaky, "I want to hear you say it."

Kylo Ren x Jedi!Reader | 1k+ | cw: gender neutra!reader, implied kidnapping, violence/mentions of injury, lovers to enemies, pining, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: this req is remix of this anon's and @copiasratsstuff request where basically YN refers to Kylo with his first name and it makes him snap. also T_T i had to send myself this anon ask because i accidentally posted this WITHOUT ANYTHING on the post LMAO. i hope you enjoy it my loves <3 <3 <3 tbh I think this turned out better than what I had in mind slayyyyed

My heart pounds as I run down the halls. My hands were tingling and moistened with agitation. I huff when I catch sight of the space craft.

I swipe an arm and, using my Force, a pair of stormtroopers crash to the side, clearing my passage.

The footsteps thundering towards me grows louder when I get to the ship and pry the door open with my Force. Just as I'm about to get into the vehicle, a scorching blow hits my leg, then my shoulder. A loud cry leaves my lips before I can even think.

Similarly, I hear painful screaming from afar. "Didn't I say to hold your fire?!"

My panic heightens at the echo of that voice. Through the excruciating pain, I tell myself to push forward. This was it, after all, this was the opening to the freedom I was waiting for.

But the next thing I knew, a dark Force overcame me, and I didn't have enough strength to break free of it.

I thud into the arms of my captor, and whine in pain. I clench my jaw and slowly lift my eyes, glaring at him.

My expression is vaguely reflected on the Supreme Leader's black mask. He sighs before speaking, "you reap what you sow."

I growl and hiss, "and soon will you."

He carries me in his arms, all the way back to my prison cell. He sets me down on his bed l, and as he takes off his helmet, I fling him back with Force, making him lose his balance.

The man doesn't topple though. What only happens is his dark hair falls onto his face. He tilts his head, "childish."

I scoff, "I'm glad you're self-aware."

The Sith Lord says nothing in response. He walks off, props his helmet on his cabinet, and opens a drawer. He walks over to me with bandages and ointment.

I raise a brow as he sits on my side, "you're not going to heal me?"

"The pain will be good for you," he replies, grabbing my injured leg with little regard.

I whine and shift to lessen my discomfort. He begins to lather ointment on my laser gash.

As he does this in silence, and as I behold his profile, his nose, his lips, his lashes, I see flashes of the past from his face. I see a memory of when we were younger, both still under the guidance of our master, Luke. I see his sweet smile, hear his soft laugh, feel his tender kiss... my Ben.

Of course, we were young fools in love. Deep down, we knew we could never be; attachments were dangerous. And yet he promised me himself and I promised him myself, and somehow he believes that was the same as us being married.

That was why he captured me. That was why he was binding my wounds. That was why he was unwilling to let me go. According to him, I was the balance the galaxy craved, I was the balance he long yearned for.

"We are married," he says, a-matter-of-factly.

My face sours, "get out of my head."

"Even if you did, even if you managed to run," he turns to me, one hand gripping my knee, "you think I would just let you go?"

We stare at each other for a while.

"After all I've done to have you?" he narrows his eyes.

"You wouldn't be able to find me," I lean in as I retort.

He leans closer, "and yet you would eventually surrender because your heart is weak."

I whine when he pulls the bandage around me tighter than necessary.

"Your soft heart would not bear the destruction I'd exact on the stars to find you," he ties the bandage and turns back to me. He scoffs under his breath, "you and your empathy."

The last of what remained of Ben Solo stared at me. Perhaps I was the only one delusional enough to see it. He was barely there in face, and in soul, I fear he may be lost forever.

I turn away.

He releases my leg and grabs my arm, "take your top off."

I decide not to put up a fight, there was no point. I take my burnt top off so he could wrap the injury on my shoulder blade.

He moves me so my back is turned to him. He stares at my wound for a prolonged moment. I am tempted to look back at him when I realize he felt pity for me.

"You shouldn't have run."

I don't look back, "you shouldn't have chased after-" I hiss when he applies ointment on my burn.

"You shouldn't have run," he repeats, harder this time.

"Kylo, please-"

"What?"

I look over my shoulder.

"What did you just call me?"

His expression is that of shock and excitement. I quickly correct myself, "Ben. Your name is B-"

"That's not my name," he raises a finger, "that's not what you said-"

"That's what I mea-"

"Say that again, say it," Kylo mutters. His voice becomes shaky, "I want to hear you say it."

I clench my jaw and shake my head. "Your name is Ben Solo."

He releases a deep breath.

I grab his cheeks. It was the first time I had ever willingly touched him, and so tenderly at that, "that is your name. That is who you--"

"Ben is dead," Kylo grabs my wrists, yanking me away from him.

My heart races when I feel the hot air from his lungs.

"I am all that's left," he whispers, brows furrowing. His voice is shaky again, "Ben was weak. He could not even speak his love for you out loud," he shakes his head, "not me. I would make sure the whole galaxy knows my love for you."

I gasp when he grabs my face and kisses me. I immediately shove him away, and when I do, this man with wide, glassy eyes stares back at me.

For once, his face evokes something more than anger out of me. I see his desperation and it pinches my heart.

"Ben-"

"That's not my name," he blurts, snapping out of his trance and jumping to his feet. His moment of vulnerability was over. Staring down at me now was no one else besides the Supreme Leader of the First Order. He wipes his face and blankness falls on his features.

I mean to call his name out again but he speaks before I can.

"I will have a medic attend to your wounds," he says flatly, "don't think to flee while I'm gone."

I watch him walk out of the door.

[ninzied]

forever and

a firstprince new year ficlet. ~1k.

Alex loses him again, ten minutes till midnight.

The party has been, as Pez put it, positively smashing—hard to top last year’s but I had the utmost faith in dear Alex, well done.

Alex hasn’t been paying attention, because outside of the circle formed by Henry’s arms on his shoulders and Alex’s hands on the dip of his waist, he hasn’t really needed to know.

Now, he takes it all in, the dancing snapshots of bodies beneath the strobe lights, the bass thumping so thickly he can feel it in his sternum, and he registers none of it because none of it matters when he doesn’t know where the hell Henry’s gone.

“Have you seen my boyfriend?” he demands of no fewer than five people—Nora, Pez and June count as one—but nobody knows, or nobody knows what he’s even asking because most of them just grin and bob their heads even more energetically than before.

He hasn’t texted. He’s not in the bathroom, and he’s not at the bar—Alex has checked both places twice. He’s starting to feel panicked in a way that he hasn’t in a long time, worried that he’s done something wrong, that he’s hurt Henry in some way again without knowing.

The not knowing is the worst part. Not that he’d ever hurt Henry on purpose, but that he could still do it now and not even realize is so unbearable he might just throw up.

The thing is that Henry had looked happy. And Alex had teased him mercilessly for it (“It doesn’t feel like His Royal Highness hates New Year’s,” murmured into Henry’s ear as Alex pressed their lower bodies together), which Henry had flushed over while also setting his jaw and pulling Alex firmly in for a kiss, probably at least in part to shut him up already.

Alex thinks back to just moments ago, before he’d somehow lost track of Henry. There’d been champagne, which they’d forgotten somewhere in favor of dancing with Bea, a conversation with some TV actor Alex only vaguely recognized and couldn’t find a polite way to get rid of, and then…then what? He’d turned around and Henry had vanished.

He doesn’t fully mean to, but he ends up retracing his steps all the way back to this time last year.

The snow is not as densely packed underfoot as he shivers his way into the garden. A year ago now, he’d followed the same path to Henry, gazed at him beneath the linden tree, and felt so many things he didn’t know how to name or make sense of until Henry kissed him and made the world go blessedly still.

If Henry is there, he decides now, determination doubling his pace, he’s going to grab his beautiful face with both hands and kiss him like 1. there’s no tomorrow, and also like 2. there’s only tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, ahead.

Henry isn’t there.

Alex’s footprints are the only trail left in the snow, glistening in technicolor as the fireworks start up overhead, and fuck, fuck, he’s missed the whole countdown.

He’s missed it with Henry. Kissing him at midnight like they were meant to this year, without the uncertainty and miserable months of radio silence that followed. This was supposed to be a new beginning for them; he had plans, okay, and it’s—well, it’s kind of their anniversary in a way, and now he won’t remember it the way that he wanted to, he—

“Alex!”

He turns, and the man that Alex can only think about in terms of forever now is jogging toward him, all flushed from the cold but smiling.

“There you are,” says Henry, a little short of breath as he comes to a stop and reaches for Alex’s hand. His touch sends a shock of warmth through what feels like Alex’s whole being. Suddenly, Alex can breathe again. “You’re freezing, love. Come here.”

Alex opens his mouth to protest, because as relieved as he is that Henry is here and acting as though all is well, he’s also kind of mad about it.

But yeah, he’s pretty cold too, so he steps willingly into Henry’s arms, and—well, there’s no other place he’d rather be mad about not being ten minutes sooner.

And then Henry leans in, and kisses him so sweetly that Alex is really not mad at all anymore.

“Next year,” says Henry, a little entreatingly, “maybe consider not inviting Hunter if you can help it? He just trapped me at coat check for what felt like ages. I barely made it out with my life.”

Alex never lets a good opportunity to pick on Hunter go to waste, but he decides to let this one slide. “Why were you at coat check?” he wants to know.

“I needed to get something,” says Henry, like it’s obvious.

“But—you don’t have your coat,” says Alex, like it’s not obvious at all.

“You don’t miss a thing,” Henry murmurs, all warmth and affection as he pulls Alex close. Something round and hard presses against Alex’s thigh, and oh. He would know that shape anywhere, because it matches the box inside his own jacket. “Guess again.”

“Baby,” says Alex, and if his voice cracks a little because he’s smiling so hard, well, what about it? “Is that a rock in your pocket, or do you really, really not hate New Year’s?”

“I just really, really love you,” counters Henry. “Happy anniversary, darling,” and he kisses Alex, just a few perfect minutes past midnight, under the linden tree, under the stars, both of them thinking of only forever.